this is dumb and too simple

dumb things I want for TS4
  1. the ability to name cowplants
  2. the ability to bulldoze lots from map view
  3. child support
  4. inheritance
  5. laundry
  6. the ability to change the opacity on makeup
  8. better, more plain, swatches on base game beds
  9. real garage doors
  10. cars (they don’t even have to work, I just need the aesthetic for houses)
  11. graveyards
  12. sims 3 traits (the really dumb ones): coward, brooding, diva, technophobe, hates the outdoors, neurotic, etc.
  13. really just more traits (I miss the more personality based ones)
  14. a nice, simple, bathroom sink to put in counters (they’re all for kitchens)
  15. more planter boxes for gardens
  16. green wall colors that aren’t ugly
  17. better kitchen cabinet sets (don’t even get me started on this)
  18. the ability to paint portraits
  19. actual group photos
  20. swing sets for my kiddos (and adults too)
  21. really just more playground equipment
  22. more of these new semi-interactive City Living type careers
  23. graduation ceremony for teens when they age up (a rabbit hole even)

(long post, sorry)

In spite of everything I love Harley Quinn but, damn, writers treat her so badly. I swear, the temptation to make her actually stupid must be terrible because it’s so often implied, or explicitly stated, that she slept her way through school. First of all, it does not work like that.  Second, she’s not a therapist or a psychologist, she’s a psychiatrist, she’s a fricking MD and a damn young one too. Managing pre-med and collegiate gymnastics that she relied on to keep her scholarship? Harley is fucked up, but she’s not the dumb blonde she plays. (also stop making her stacked, she’s a gymnast. she is 4’11” of pure muscle and is not top heavy)

If you want a good Harley backstory it’s simple. She’s ADHD but medicated and slightly robotic because of it. I want to take special care not to demonize meds but, rather, people’s disapproval of neurodivergence and a lack of focus on what is best for a patient rather than what is most convenient for others. So, maybe, around ten years old Harley is a hyperactive space cadet who’s brilliant at tests but sloppy at coursework, who would be a gymnastics prodigy if she could actually focus on technique and put in practice time instead of fooling around. Then the meds come and it’s actually really cool because she can do the things she needs to do instead of just wanting to do them, doing something else entirely, and getting in trouble. People are proud of her, she’s proud of herself. But now there are expectations. Family and teachers and coaches overschedule her, find worth only in her success and don’t care about her mental health at all as long as she’s performing and castigate her when she does fail. Fuck if you don’t internalize that. But she doesn’t look unhealthy and she’s doing amazing. She actually has to choose between the Olympic trials and continuing her grad studies. She probably has some issues with self-harm but it either doesn’t look like self-harm or is well covered up. 

When Arkham accepts her, fresh from her residency, it’s not a mistake. The woman is amazing. All they can see is a mountain of achievements rather than the seething ball of nerves, self-loathing, and imposter syndrome boiling just under the surface. That’s when Joker comes in. He’s got the Hannibal Lecter shtick down. Where everyone else sees an intelligent driven young woman he sees a frightened overwhelmed girl who is working her hardest to convince the world she’s anyone other than herself. Sending her into a nervous breakdown would be too easy so he doesn’t even bother. Instead he’s open with her, almost friendly. The other doctors are amazed, Harley is amazed, she’s not done anything particularly revolutionary but, for the first time in forever, it looks like the clown prince of crime is showing progress. He unravels her and it’s a challenge, she flinches back and gets very serious when he comes too close to the real Harley under the professional. Still, soon she’s questioning everything. She doesn’t even really like her co-workers. She hasn’t had a real friend in years. She’s forgotten how to have fun. Did she ever want this to be her life or did she just do it for other people? It starts so slowly that it looks, at first, like she’s getting better at self-care. Maybe something totally silly one weekend, a trampoline park where she can enjoy the way her toned body moves without stressing out over landings, a face painting booth at a street fair, some garishly colored downright tacky decoration that clashes with her sensible apartment. Suddenly she realizes how much she hates knowing the difference between cream and ecru. The beigeness of her life is repulsive. She hates the person she’s pretending to be even more that she hates herself which is really saying something.

After her weekend of freedom she would have called in sick if it wasn’t so suddenly important to see him. The relief she feels at talking to one of Gotham’s most infamous supercriminals is disturbing but it is relief and she’s been swallowing a slow-motion panic attack for hours. She admits, though she shouldn’t, that she took his advice about doing something fun and he teases her, what would straight-laced Doctor Quinzel do for fun? Did she realphabetize her sock drawer or buy a new clipboard? It’s not important to impress him, it’s really not. He’s dangerous, cruel, and he looks so proud when she admits that she bought a lamp shaped like a lawn flamingo. The only mistake, he says, is that she should have stolen it. She hopes the wicked thrill it gives her doesn’t show on her face. It does. She almost even laughs. He likes it when he can make her laugh and she likes it when he likes things.

It’s wrong and unprofessional, the relationship she develops, and she knows it but her whole life she’s been so high strung. Nothing she’s done has been for her, she’s not sure she knows how to really do selfish things anymore, but he knows the selfish things she needs to do. It feels good when she follows his advice even when it’s small things like the rainbow striped socks she wears concealed under her very bland slacks and sensible shoes. She’s so happy, almost giddy, and he loves her happiness, he loves her, he loves the real her that she’s had to beat down and hide for so long, the her that even she isn’t able to love. She is able to love him, though, and since he loves her she’s able to love herself for him, to protect and nurture something so important to him.

When the choice comes between her old self, the tedious endless labor of making the world proud, and Him, the spectacular man that brought color into her life, it’s not even a question. She kills Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she throws away the version of her that let herself burn just for medals and hollow accolades. She embraces Harley Quinn and it’s so much a part of her nature she can’t even see that she’s still living her life for someone else’s approval, except this time that person is a murderous clown. She hasn’t let her hair down, she’s just put it in pigtails instead of a bun.

anonymous asked:

Can I have when it's like in the middle of the night and the Paladin's S/o just gets up from the bed and leaves the room, only to get a cup of water or something and the Paladins wake up only to see that their s/o isn't at their side, freaks out, only to find them in the kitchen with a cup of water in their hands.. Sorry if this is long

Hey it’s mod Enki! This is really super cute so it’s gonna be like a tiny drabble for each! I’m sorry this is so long orz I kinda got carried away. 



You woke up with the taste of dried spit and left over whatever you had for dinner. Space goo again? You could have sworn it was something different this past time. Either way, it didn’t leave a good taste in your mouth. With what little light in the room you looked to your side to see Shiro comfortably asleep next to you, his head on your shoulder. Even though you hated to disturb him from his sleep, you needed to get a glass of water. You were a little hot, too, from being so close to him while you slept. With a sigh you gently wiggled your way from out of the covers and out of the bed. As soon as your bare feet hit the cold floor you shivered. Suddenly you weren’t so hot anymore and even debated going back to bed. The grimy taste in your mouth told you otherwise and you headed to the door. 

Once out of the room you flinched at the bright lights in the hallway almost bumping into a few things as your eyes adjusted. Even as you got used to the bright lights, you still stumbled your way to the kitchen like a drunkard. Fumbling with the light switch you managed to light the kitchen. It didn’t take you too long to get a nice refreshing glass of water and you pretty much downed it in one go. 

However, when you turned around to refill your glass you practically jumped three feet in the air as you saw someone out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t manage to hold on to your glass in your fright and it fell right out of your hands. You fumbled trying to properly catch it until your hands managed to get purchase on the slippery glass. A low chuckle resounded to your side and you almost jumped again. Instead you turned to face the source only to see none other than your loving boyfriend, in the same groggy state as you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said, his voice low and a little scratchy.

“I don’t think startle really covers it.” You replied clearly exasperated. “I would phrase it more like… scared the living shit out of me.” 

He chuckled again putting his hands up in surrender. “Okay okay, I got it. Next time I’ll send you a letter before I enter a room.”

“Oh ha ha…” You mocked sarcastically. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“I woke up and couldn’t feel you next to me and got worried. Sounds a little silly I know.” 

“I see, then I guess the next time I leave the bed I’ll be sending you a letter of warning.” You said quoting his earlier remark. He just shook his head before letting out a yawn. It wasn’t long before you were yawning, too. Setting down the glass you shuffled your way over to him, rubbing your arms for warmth.

“Let’s just go to bed already, I’m cold.” You mumbled. 

“Alright.” Shiro pressed a kiss to your forehead before the two of you headed back to his room for some much needed rest. 


It was probably the dead of night when you woke up, annoyed by the boy sleeping beside you. He was practically sprawled out on the bed and kicking you in the side. All the blankets were bunched up onto you and clearly overheating you to the point of being pretty uncomfortable. You angrily shoved the blankets off of you and onto Lance who was dead ass asleep and drooling onto the bed. A sigh forced it’s way out of you and you tried to think of how exactly you were going to get out of the bed with the mess of a boy beside you. You debated just shoving him off the bed entirely so you could just get out easily. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even wake up if you did. 

As tempting as it was, you weren’t that mean. Or you were and you just didn’t have the energy to move his dumb ass. Either way you managed to escape from the bed and exit out into the hallway. You were too god damn hot and needed to get something that could cool you down. The lights of the hallway were probably even more annoying than Lance’s sleeping habits at the moment and you squinted to make sense of your surroundings. 

“Stupid lights…” You mumbled to yourself as you finally made your way to the kitchen. 

You perked up as soon as you got your water and felt the cool liquid slide down your throat. It was so simple yet so refreshing to you. You sighed contently and just stood there for a second, relishing in the peace you had found in the dead of night. That is, before you felt two arms wrap around you and a face bury itself in your neck. 

“Y/n…. Come back to bed. You scared me I thought you were gone.” Lance mumbled. 

“You’re so dumb sometimes… I just needed a glass of water.” You said trying to wiggle out of his grasp. His grip was too solid though and you had no choice but to give up. 

“Y/n…” He mumbled your name again and you couldn’t help but realize how ironic it was. He never wanted to cuddle you in bed but suddenly he was all over you. 

“Well I can’t go back to bed if you keep holding me like this.” You said trying to shove him away. 

He seemed to comply this time and let go, eyes still closed, almost like he was sleep walking. You took him by the hand and led him out of the kitchen and back to bed where you two could hopefully get some more sleep. 


When you woke up you were surprisingly comfortable, tangled up in the sheets with Keith and head resting on his chest. You sat there for a second just listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing. Everything seemed just perfect until you realized just how thirsty you were. It was that kind of thirst that you could feel all the way to the back of your throat. It was bothering you more and more every second you sat there just dealing with it. You really didn’t want to get up, it broke your heart to leave your boyfriend as he was probably having one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s had in a while. But man, you were thirsty as hell and there was no way you could go back to sleep now. 

You begrudgingly got out of bed, untangling yourself from the covers and from Keith. He looked so cute in his sleep so you quickly kissed his cheek before you made your way out into the hallway. The lights blinded you and you really regretted getting out of bed. But you had come this far so there was no way you were going back now. You zombied your way to the kitchen and managed to down two whole glasses of water before you heard someone running down the hall. 

Sitting on the counter you just shrugged before downing another glass and setting it down beside you. A yawn escaped your lips and you could’ve sworn you heard someone calling your name. You listened again and you heard it call a second time, a little louder this time. It wasn’t hard to recognize and you almost hit yourself for thinking he wouldn’t notice you leaving. 

“Keith…!” You beckoned from the kitchen. It wasn’t long before you could hear the taps of his feet as he made his way to you. He called out your name again when he entered the kitchen and you noticed how his expression turned from a scowl to a more relieved one. 

“Wow, I didn’t think you would notice me gone for literally five minutes.” You said laughing a little.

“I was worried something happened to you!” He defended himself. “You should’ve told me where you were going.”

“I was gone for five minutes, Keith.” You said. 

“Still…” He mumbled. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okaaaaay.” You drawled getting down from the counter. “You just looked so cute while you were sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you up!” 

“Oh whatever.” He huffed. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“Whatever you saaaay.” You laughed lightly, trailing after him and back to bed.


As much as you loved Hunk, he radiated nothing but heat when you two cuddled and while you were 100% okay with this you were really feeling the heat right about now. It was late, everyone was surely asleep by now which meant you could wander the castle in whatever gross sleep state you were in right now. Sweat collected on your back and forehead and you really needed to cool off right about now. You wiggled out of your lover’s grasp and hated to part him while he was so contently sleeping. But when you’re gross and sweating and extremely hot it literally feels like the worst. 

You really preferred to be cold most of the time because it was really easy to just cuddle up with Hunk to get warm. It’s a whole different story for when your were hot though. When your feet touched the nice cool floor you really debated just laying on it for like an hour to properly cool off. But it didn’t really sound like something you had the patience for. A nice glass of water sounded way more appealing than just laying on the ground feeling like you’re dying. 

So you stepped out into the hallways and absorbed the shock of the lights and nice cool air blowing over your body. Once you were done bathing in this new found bliss you headed down to the kitchen. It still smelled of whatever goodies Hunk had managed to cook up for dinner when you entered it. You smiled to yourself as you stood in the kitchen with a nice glass of water. 

Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn you could fall asleep just standing up. However a warm voice pulled you from your sleepy stupor. 

“Of course I would find my favorite person in my favorite place.” Hunk said entering the kitchen. You looked at him with surprise before breaking into a small smile.

“Oh, what are you doing up?” You asked. 

“I mean I woke up and you weren’t there suddenly. It’s just a little scary you know?” He said scratching the back of his neck. 

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve woken you up then. I needed to cool off for a second.” You said sheepishly. “I’m done now though, so let’s go back to bed.”

“Sounds good to me.” 

The two of you walked back to bed, hand in hand humming a tune the both of you vaguely knew. It wasn’t long before you were back to cuddling and sweet dreams.


It was one of those rare occasions that Pidge was asleep next to you at a reasonable hour. You were very grateful to be blessed with this opportunity to finally cuddle your girlfriend after a long week of missions and helping out around the castle ship. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything… You were sleeping so soundly that you managed to drool all over the pillow and now your mouth felt as dry as a desert. Dried spit didn’t taste too well and it really did bother you. 

Pidge probably wouldn’t take too kindly to your gross slobber breath or the fact that you drooled all over the pillow. So you wiggled out of bed and flipped over the pillow to the dry side of it. Your first task was done so now you were one to accomplish the next. You stepped out into the bright ass hallway and instantly regretted it. You stumbled around like you were afflicted with some sort of illness. In fact, you took you the longest time to get used to these blinding lights. 

You weren’t too fond of the lights in the hallway so you didn’t even bother turning on the lights in the kitchen. It seemed like a much better idea to just let the lights from the hallway filter into the kitchen. The darkness of the kitchen was comforting and it helped keep you groggy enough to be ready to fall back to sleep the second you got in bed. 

As soon as you got your water you quickly downed it to re-hydrate your mouth. It was nice and refreshing, although a little cold making you shiver a bit. Turning on your heel you were about to head back to the room when you saw a figure in the door way. You let out a mixture of startled noises before realizing it was just Pidge. She started at you with a blank expression. 

“Did you drool all over the pillow again?” She asked. You could practically feel your heart stop.


“Y/n, you only get a glass of water after you drool in your sleep.” She added, completely trapping you.

“Fine, you got me. I’ll wash the pillow case in the morning.” You admitted. “Why are you up anyways. You never come after me just for drooling on a pillow.”

“It just scared me that you weren’t beside me while I slept like you always are.” She mumbled. “I had a bad dream.”

You smiled and went to hug her from behind. She sniffled a bit and you squeezed her a little harder. 

“You’re just the only one I have left.” 

“Don’t worry, Pidge. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

The robot apocalypse has stalled. The uncanny valley proved too expansive for even hydraulic legs to hurdle, so now the machines are re-evaluating their strategy and aiming to conquer less-discerning animals, like squirrels. Spy In The Wild is a new miniseries under the PBS umbrella with a simple premise: loose a bunch of poorly taxidermied automatons into nature to see which species are dumb enough to think they’re related. That’s basically it.

The whole thing is recklessly diabolical. The narrator would have you believe that the camera eyes on these robots offer an unprecedented look into the lives of animals, but I can assure you, after watching every episode, that’s complete (wild) horse shit. This is, at best, Battlestar Galactica for ostriches, and the fact that we’re so charmed by throwing Cylons at mother nature says a lot about humanity. If you still aren’t sold on the weirdness of this show, please allow me to take you on an adventure in clumsy evil. 

Nature Documentaries Went Insane When You Weren’t Looking

The Worst Day | Mingyu | Oneshot

Genre: Fluff, A little something for Mingyu’s birthday

Word Count: 2,591

Summary: After having a horrible day, you need to get out of the house for a while. When you stumble upon a small restaurant, you find so much more

It is impossible to have a perfect day, and that surprises pretty much no one. There are good days and bad days, amazing days and horrible days, but there is no such thing as a perfect day. There are too many factors that play into every waking moment of a single life for everything to go exactly the way one would want their day to go, and that’s just one person. If a second person was added into the equation, it’s impractical to even imagine a faultless day, so there’s no way any day could be considered perfect.

Regrettable as it is, this is the truth, so it’s not really all that regrettable. Just because the world cannot have a single day where everything and everyone is ideal does not mean that there is a lack of pleasure or joy in people’s lives. Maybe it’s fate or just dumb luck, but people can have moments, days, weeks, months, or even years where their lives are filled with happiness. This emotion can burn like a fire, curving up towards the sky in a wonderful blaze, or it can be like a blanket, holding someone in simple warmth. Sometimes it comes in a pattern, where one day is better than the other, because if all the good things in life are on one side of a coin, the bad things are there too. It’s said that the bad moments make you appreciate the good, right?

Keep reading

Well you guys are in for a surprise here. @joshdunslipring and I are working on a collab all based around vampire/business man Brendon. Here is your first part <3

Brendon downs the small glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice clinking softly as he lowers the glass back down to the bar, his eyes scan the room, he loves owning the casino, but he hated these big fancy parties. Some big business awards had been held in the arena at the casino, meaning that, naturally, the after party was being held in the main casino, the whole thing, closed down and reserved for the award ceremonies’ attendants.

Half of the attendants in question were stuffy, middle aged businessmen and millionaires, all with either their trophy wives, some even had women who were blatantly escorts, hanging off of their arms and laughing at their terrible jokes. The other half of the room, well that’s a little more complicated, the other half were vampires, not the kind you see in the movies, that sleep in coffins and live in manor houses in the wilderness, relatively normal people, if you discount the blood drinking. The money and success of his business were incredible, he could do what he wanted, look after his family, owned several properties, jetting away whenever he saw fit to whatever exotic place he pleased. But this culture wasn’t his scene at all, for a start, he’s far younger than most of these people, as well as not being a total, business minded drone, he liked to have fun and enjoy himself.

He was just got free of a very long winded, very boring conversation about the current market, feeling the cold whiskey in his glass leave that pleasant warmth in his throat, scanning the room for anyone who might be a little more interesting to talk to. His eyes finally fall on you, standing on the other side of the bar, clad in a floor length deep red dress, the top lacey and slim fitted and the back dipping low, exposing most of your back, the skirt of the dress flowing gracefully. He tries to pull his eyes away but can’t, the way your hair falls around your shoulders and the deep red lipstick on your lips matches your dress so perfectly. Unable to refrain any longer, he saunters over to you gracefully, leaning on the bar next to you.

“What’ll you have ma’am.” The bartender spoke politely, standing in front of you.

“Anything with your best whiskey in it.” You say with a little smile, Brendon’s eyebrow cocks a little, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“My man here, makes a wonderful Manhattan.” He speaks up, making you turn your head to face him and damn he’s even more attracted to you up close.

“Is that so? I guess I’ll have to try it then.” You say with a little smirk, leaning forward on the bar and reaching into your purse to get some money.

“No need, darlin’ I’ve got this. Charlie put all of this gorgeous womans’ drinks on me.” He winks, lips lifting into a grin that is far too attractive for his own good, there’s some kind of vibe to him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I can buy my own drinks.” You try to insist but he waves it off.

“I’m sure you can, sweetie, but I’m happy to buy drinks for a girl who can appreciate a good whiskey.” He bites his lip, pressing just a little closer and you can’t fight the blush that creeps into your cheeks. “I’m…”

“Brendon Urie, I know, I’m Y/N.” You smile and take the drink from the bartender as it’s handed to you, taking a little sip and smiling approvingly.

“You know who I am? Pretty name for a pretty girl though.” A small smirk forms on his face.

“Yeah, I know, I think everyone in this room knows who you are.” You giggle again, drumming your fingers on the bar.

“So what’re you doing here all alone?” Brendon keeps his eyes on you, watching you intently as you sip your drink some more.

“I’m not ‘all alone’ I’m here with my dad, but he’s far too busy getting drunk and getting a boner over business talk.” Your lips quirk a little when Brendon chuckles, running a hand through his thick black hair.

“No father should leave his beautiful daughter unattended in a casino full or men with questionable morals.” You try desperately not to let the smooth tone of his voice affect you, but find yourself inescapably drawn to him, he’s handsome and charming.

“Oh? And I suppose you’re the one with golden intention here to save me? Because, quite frankly, I’ve had enough of being leered at by either creepy old men or men that want to suck my blood and drag me off into the night.” You smile playfully as you sass him, watching the broad, slick smirk that forms on his lips, his eyebrow cocking up.

“And how would you know about these bloodsuckers, pretty girl.” He practically purrs, playing at baring his teeth and hissing, the smirk on his face only getting wider when you giggle.

“Dad does business with them, you get used to it. Stop side tracking, you didn’t answer my question, ARE you the one with golden intentions? Because I’m certain you’re not,” you chew your lip a little as you speak, drawing his eyes to them, biting his right back at you.

“I can promise you’d I’d respect you a lot more than most of these men.” He offers an arm out, smiling and nodding towards a more secluded table nearby. You hesitate for a second, before thinking, you studied for 5 years away for college, not giving yourself any time to have fun or flirt or enjoy yourself, so why not? He’s gorgeous, that’s for sure, all dark, chocolate brown eyes and ebony hair, lips that are killing you already, killer cheekbones and jawline and his suit is another story, matte black with a floral type pattern in a shinier black. Yeah, he’s fucking gorgeous.

“Lead the way, Urie.” You slip your hand onto his arm and pick your drink up, letting him lead you to the little table, being the perfect gentleman of course and pulling out your chair for you.

“So, tell me more about yourself, sweetheart.” He offers, resting his elbows on the table and leaning closer, silently imploring you to speak.

“What do you want to know? I’m certain I’m not as exciting as some of the gorgeous, model type girls you get hanging around you.” You chuckle, toying with the little stirrer in your drink, he chuckles wholeheartedly back.

“That’s where you’re wrong, see, you get good at reading people in this business darlin’ and those girls, all gold diggers, they’re only in it for my money and the reputation of hanging off of my arm. Whereas you, far from it, you’re an intelligent girl, I can tell, know how to handle yourself, and actually isn’t interested in my money. So, tell me about yourself, how old are you, did you go to college, what’re you interests, ya know, usual stuff babe.” He finishes his little speech, sitting back in his seat and smiling.

“Fine, I’m 24, nearly 25, just finished college, I studied biochemistry and genetics for 3 years.” You start but he raises his hand.

“Hold on, you studied biochemistry and genetics? That’s incredible, I was right about you being intelligent then.” He smiles and you can’t help but blush, especially when he leans a little closer to tease, “and I can promise you, intelligence is extremely sexy. So tell me more angel. What gets a pretty girl like you, who doesn’t have to study or do anything because your dad is rich, into something like that?”

“I don’t want to be some dumb bimbo who lives off of daddy, simple. I’ve always had a huge interest in genetics, so I decided to try it at college and it just worked out, I loved every second.” You smile fondly, ending up getting caught in a whole, long and very detailed conversation about yourself, talking for what feels like hours about college and your studies and research, ending up discussing just about everything else too, he asks about your interests outside of work, music tastes, favourite colour. Silly things really, but it surprises you how easy he is to talk to, even though you’re both flirting heavily, time passes by like nothing before you finally realise you’ve been talking about yourself for far too long.

“C’mon, Brendon, I’ve been babbling on for hours about myself, tell me about you. Not the boring business stuff, you.” You smile when you see a little sweet smile form on his face, he’s clearly not used to being asked that question.

“Well, I’m 29, I turn 30 in April. I’ve owned the casino for 5 years, took it over from my parents when they passed away, changed up the whole place, new name, new look, managed to do my parents justice by making this place even more successful than it already was.” He smiles sweetly when he mentions his parents, but you giggle and lean closer.

“I said not the businessy stuff, I want to know about you, not your money, not your casino, you.” You insist, a little tipsy by this point. “I wanna know more about the gorgeous man in front of me, is that so wrong?” He chuckles and a very, very slight blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Well… I’m not used to talking about that stuff, so what do you want to know?” He reaches forward and touches your hand.

“I don’t know, what are you interested in, what’s your favourite colour, favourite band, anything.”

“I love music, I play several instruments and… can even sing, a little I guess, I’ve sang a few times in the bar before.” He blushes harder this time and it’s genuinely adorable.

“What instruments do you play?” You lean close to him, intrigued and happy to see a more human side of him, both of you leaning over the table, dangerously close to him.

“Drums, guitar, bass and piano. I actually have a big grand piano in the suite I have at the top of the hotel.” He drops his voice a little and you shudder, damn his voice is sexy, and his fingers gently trace over the back of your hand.

“You own a suite?” You giggle when he nods and keeps tracing his fingers lightly.

“Darling this is my casino, it made sense to have somewhere to stay here, I am here a lot.” His lips quirk a little and he leans close, lips almost ghosting over yours. “I can show you it if you want angel.” He purrs a little and you squirm in your seat, brushing him off.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself Urie.” You tease, he hates to admit how much you’ve caught his interest as you chat longer, listening to him open up about his hobbies and life and just himself in general, it’s nice to know that not all millionaires are total assholes.

After sitting at that table for almost two hours, you decide to stretch your legs and explore a little, Brendon offering to give you a tour of the casino, seeing as you’ve never been here before. He shows you round, introducing you to all the different games tables, showing you the roulette wheel.

“Why don’t you have a turn?” He offers, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing a note over to the guy at the wheel, who promptly hands him a stack of chips. “Here, pick a number, or a colour, and have some fun.”

“Brendon, you don’t have to do that, I have money.” You try to argue but he shrugs and pushes the chips your way anyway, and you give in, placing a stack of them on black 20, purely on a whim, watching intently as the ball spins Brendon’s hand resting very welcomed on your waist, standing close behind you, his warm whiskey tinged breath sending little shivers down your spine, even worse when his hand slips onto the exposed skin on your back. He evidently feels you shudder a little when his fingers and the cold rings on his hand touch your skin because he leans closer.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart, you liking the way my hand feels?” He murmurs, low and gravelly, eyes fixed on your as he trails his fingertips up your spine from the small of your back to the between your shoulders and back down, light enough to bring out the goose pimples on your body.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, leaning into his touch, trying to remain focused but he’s driving you insane.

“Black 20.” The guy at the table suddenly calls, snapping you out of the Brendon induced haze you were in.

“Look at that, lucky girl, I’ll have to keep you around during my poker games.” Brendon smirks, repeating that same stroking motion with his fingers as he pushes the chips back to the him. Moving his hand away he takes your hand again, pulling you back down to earth as he shows you the section where several games of poker are being played.

“And my favourite game.” He says playfully, pulling you close to tease again. “Hello? You there, or are you busy thinking of what else my hands might feel nice doing?” He teases and you manage to snap out of it finally.

“No, actually, I was just thinking about how bad at poker you probably are.” You sass back and he scoffs.

“I could take any player at those tables.” He says, so self-assured and grinning widely.

“Pffft, sure ya can Bren.” You scoff, giggling a little as he pouts. “Put your money where your mouth is.”

“Yeah? I bet you, I can walk onto any of those poker tables and win.” He smirks, folding his arms over his chest and looking down at you, a look of determination sparking in his eyes.

“Oh yeah? And what do I win when you lose?” You speak confidently, almost certain that he cannot be as good as his ego tells him he is.

“Anything your little heart desires, angel.” You’re caught off guard, unable to actually think of something to wager against him, after standing embarrassingly stumped and silent for a time you finally clear your throat.

“Dinner, somewhere I choose, at a time I choose.” You wager, but his lips lift into a smile.

“Dinner with you? That’s hardly loosing, Y/N. But deal, if I lose, I’ll take you to dinner, anywhere you want.” He chuckles and presses closer, fingers toying with a strange if hair hanging above your chest. “Now, if I win…” he trails off, lip pulling between his teeth, making your heart race. “I think you should come see my suite with me after this lovely party ends.”

“Deal.” You say quickly, which seems to catch him off guard until you lean closer to tease, “If all I have to do is look at your suite, that’s fine with me.”

“Darlin, I’m certain I can convince you to stay a while.” He practically purrs.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.” You scold, giggling when he raises his arms in a dramatic apology, taking your hand in his and pulling you towards the poker tables, he insists that you pick the table, so that you can be certain he’s not trying to cheat, you pick one with a few people you recognise, your dad’s friends, if he wants a challenge he can have one. With a quick nod he pulls you towards the table.

“It’s fine, I’ll leave you to play.” You try to insist but he just smirks and tugs you a little closer.

“C'mon, come watch daddy play poker, kitten.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth once again, watching the bright red blush creep onto your cheeks at his little comment, tugging you towards the poker table and down into the chair directly next to him, admiring how much classier you look than most of the women on the others men’s arms look. You can’t help but observe the stunned looks on all of their faces as he sits. “Evening gents, you won’t mind if I join you for a game?” You hear plenty of stammered no Mr Urie’s over and it’s plain to see these ditzy girls eyeing him like he’s a cold drink in a desert.

What a prize a man like him must be to women like them.

He remains incredibly focused through the poker game, maintaining the odd bit of contact with you, his hand resting on your thigh every so often it toying with your hand. You were actually pretty impressed watching him, he had an amazing poker face and when it came down to the end of the game he did nothing but announce that he was all in, sitting back and watching the puzzles faces as they tried to figure out if he was bluffing.

He leant closer to whisper, “Shall I get some champagne sent up to my room darlin? Would be a shame if you didn’t at least stay for a drink.” His attention was snapped back to the table when someone claimed he was bluffing, his eyebrow cocking in a devilishly attractive way, shrugging like he had no idea. “I don’t know, that’s for you to find out.” he offers, smirking at the puzzled look he was getting. The last person in the game except him, layed down his 5 cards, a flush from the 4 to the 8 of spades, sitting back and relaxing like he’d just won the game. Brendon however had other ideas, a cocky, half smile forming on his lips as he laid his cards, which he’d kept hidden, even from you this whole time, a royal flush, hearts of course.

“Good game, gents, you can keep your money, just playing for fun.” With that he stands and offers his hand out to you, helping you up and grinning. “Guess I’ll get to show you that suite after all. Let’s get another drink, shall we?”

“I only have to see the suite, I didn’t say anything about staying for long.” You sass back, letting him guide you around the outside of the casino, through the crowds of people towards the bar.

“Awh, darlin’ there’s gonna be a beautiful bottle of champagne there when we get there, you’d make me drink that all on my own?” He pouts, sticking out those thick lips a little so you find yourself staring a little because he looks so good.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” You tease and send a little teasing smirk his way. “I don’t think you could keep up with me anyway.” You wink and bite your lip and finally he’s had enough of the flirting, spotting a door leading to the much quieter corridor outside of the bar, eyes darkening as he pulls you out of the door, swiftly pinning you between the wall and his hips.

“God you’re a little tease, you know that?” He growls, crashing his lips down against yours, hands finding your hips, you can’t stop yourself melting into his touch, hands moving up to his shoulders and gripping his collar. You’re a little embarrassed by the whines you start to let out as his tongue works against yours, moving your hands up into his hair, tugging gently and hearing a low growl from his chest. He presses you back against the wall harder, pulling his lips away from your mouth to kiss down your jaw, gently nipping and sucking at your jaw and neck, hands sliding down onto your ass.

“Jesus… Brendon…” You moan, letting your head drop back against the wall, letting him pull your against him, pressing his hips forward, evidently hard in his smart pants. “Oh my god, please.” You whine and it’s totally involuntary, only realising you’ve just begged for him after it’s already done, and it just makes a huge, cocky smirk forming on his perfect face, despite looking just as flustered as you, pupils blown and hair a little less perfect than it was 5 minutes ago as he leans close to kiss just under your ear.

“Not here, baby girl,” He purrs, low and gravelly, nipping your earlobe, “Guess you’ll be wanting to share that champagne with me too huh?” He teases and steps back from you, neatening up his suit jacket and hair, leaving you flustered against the wall. “C’mon, babe, let’s get back, don’t want to be missing for too long.” Offering out an arm to you, he smiles almost innocently, chuckling when you grumble a little.

“Fucking tease.” You huff, slipping your hand onto his arm, both of you slipping back into the party unnoticed, hoping no one notices the puffy lips and red flushes on both of you, striding over to the bar.

“Another drink, sweetie?” He smiles and leans on the bar, standing facing you as he wait for a bartender and just as you’re about to speak up a voice disturbs you both.

“Ah, Brendon! I see you’ve met my daughter?”

Leo as your boyfriend

A/N: This man has my #1 ult spot (alongside Sejun of Victon), so I apologise if this ends up being very rambly

Originally posted by leojuseyo

  • First of all, he’s such a husband
  • Like he literally said in a Vixx TV that one of his fantasies is to be a good husband and father
  • So he’s definitely the type to take care of you sooo well
  • Many might believe his way of doing it might be a bit tsundere (when it doesn’t seem like he care by his words, but he shows it with his actions)
  • I think he’s kinda like that, but also not
  • He’s definitely the “actions speak louder than words” person though
  • I feel like if you’re sad, then I think he’s the type to hold you close and rub your back and say little things like “it’s okay, it’s okay”
  • But if he’s away for work, he would still help by letting you went to you over then phone and then tell you things to make you feel better
  • “Baby, you should take a bath to relax.” Or “Go make yourself some tea, that’ll help.”
  • The two of you would look after his nephew a lot and it would be the cutest thing
  • Like you’d first bring him to a café or something and then bring some lattes and something to eat for the boy at the playground
  • You’re the couple that can literally spend the entire day saying minimal amounts of words to each other
  • It wouldn’t be because something was wrong, but it would just be natural
  • IF there was an issue though, I think Taekwoon is the type to confront it because he doesn’t like enduring tension
  • I think fights would him wouldn’t happen very often, but if they were about things like your future together, they might get pretty heated
  • You’d always find your way back down though
  • Taekwoon is really loyal, and expects you to be as well
  • Which might result in a bit of possessiveness
  • He tries to hold it in most of the time though
  • Anywaaays, he’s really cuddly
  • Like if he’s tired, he’ll literally cling onto you and fall asleep on you
  • He really likes naps together, because he gets to be close to you, but also quiet
  • Him texting you would go from “hey where r u” without anything else to “woooooow I love youuu” with loads of hearts
  • You should tell him dumb jokes to make him laugh so he can show his shining smile
  • He might judge you too, depending on the joke
  • Mostly you tickling him and him begging for you to stop
  • Which results in him forcing you to stop by pinning you down
  • Whoops you’re now banging on the couch
  • Or the floor, or the table, or in the shower, or the car
  • You get the point
  • He’s just really passionate
  • Also about the taking care of you thing, if he knows you’re having going through a bad time or anything, he’ll show his worry by simple things
  • Like saying short sentences like “you good?” or “Should we take a walk?” or “How many hugs?”
  • Moving on, his kisses vary from quick pecks before schedules to the most intense things you’ll ever experience
  • There is literally nothing inbetween
  • For the intense ones, he’ll just grab your face and pull you to him and make your heart race like crazy
  • Let’s not forget that he’s a freaking grandpa though, he’ll probably trip and hit himself while you’re taking a late night walk
  • Oops you’re in the emergency room with Taekwoon’s broken wrist
  • “You’re so clumsy, how are you so clumsy?”
  • “Shut up.”
  • Then you take his good hand and stroke it to make him soft again
  • And wowie he’s going to go all warm inside if you do that
  • Because he’s like “oh my god I love this person so much for always being by my side”
  • Lastly, you’ll have to accept the fact that you’re having like ten kids and five animals that’s all bye
Watch on

In this four-minute video, Mel Robbins helps you find the cause of “every single problem or complaint in your life.” Motivation, she explains, is “complete garbage,” and you know you’re about to get carpet-bombed with the truth after she says, “It’s total bullshit, frankly. Are we allowed to swear on this show?” Is there a police chief in the audience who can rein in this loose cannon?!

Anyway, this video has over eight million views on Facebook, and gives precisely zero helpful advice. Robbins begins by saying, “At some point, we all bought into this lie that you’ve gotta feel ready in order to change.” On it’s face, this isn’t controversial. It’s true that we can’t always wait around until we feel excited to make a change. Nobody’s elated the day they quit smoking. But this vast oversimplification of the problem assumes everyone who struggles has the petulant mind of a child. “Sure, the doctor says I should start watching my cholesterol or I’ll die, but I’ll wait until I feel like it.” Most adult people have complex reasons for procrastinating, ranging from too much stress to clinical depression. This probably can’t be solved using the same line applied to a child who won’t make his bed or stop teabagging people on Call Of Duty. It’s as if human behavior is not easily reduced to a single simple bromide like “YOLO” or “JUST DO IT.”

According to Robbins, the fact that you’re a dumb baby who waits around until you feel like saving your marriage isn’t your fault. It’s your dumb baby brain: “The way that our brains are wired, and the fact about human beings, is that we’re not designed to do things that are uncomfortable or scary or difficult. Our brains are designed to protect us from those things.” Now, the brain is a pretty complex pile of meat. What are Mel Robbins’ qualifications for making such a sweeping statement about it? Well, she’s a CNN commentator, life coach, author, and “motivational speaker” – which, using Mel’s own definition, translates into “bullshit speaker.”

This Dumb Video Motivated Me To Write A Response Article

Huntress- Part 13: Trust

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E13 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Your feet padded quietly on the floorboards of the Bunker as you neared the voices. Dad had his back to you, typing away on his laptop, Uncle Dean was leaning over him, staring at whatever was on the screen. 

You had a cup of tea in hands as you wandered up behind them.

“Found a case?” You asked, making Uncle Dean jump. 
“The hell did you come from?” He looked at you with a frown.
“Europe.”You mumbled, reading the screen.

Dad chuckled before saying “Yeah, a Museum not too far away. Someone had their tongue ripped out…”
“Ouch.” You grimaced.
“…Yeah, but that didn’t kill them.” 
You tilted your head questioningly.
“Having their internal organs crushed did.”


“Sure is.” Uncle Dean huffed, his eyes squinting as he read over the article. You took a sip, the warmth of the mug spreading through to the palms of your hands.

“I take it you’re coming, Kid.” Uncle Dean looked at you expectantly. You nodded, grabbing a hair-tie from your wrist and tying your hair up into a bunche. 

Dad sighed, but didn’t say anything. He knew you’d probably end up finding a way, it was safer if you all stayed together.

“I’ll call Mom,” Uncle Dean broke the slight tension before it grew to too much “See if she wants to help out.”

“Okay.” Dad nodded, closing his laptop slightly and adjusting himself so he was facing you.
“Sleep well?” He asked in such a way you felt obliged to answer truthfully.
“Kinda.” You shrugged.
Dad nodded, thankful you didn’t outright lie, he could tell you trusted him more than you initially did.

“If you can’t sleep, it’s okay to tell me. I’m not going to be angry at you.”

“I know…thanks.” You didn’t want to offend him, but there was really nothing he could have done to help.

“Offering a tight smile, he looked up when Uncle Dean re-entered the room. “Okay, looks like it’s just gonna be the three of us,” He bitterly declared. Before you could question why he added: “Let’s go.”

You enjoyed car journeys. There was so much more land in America so the roads weren’t too busy and it gave you lots of time to listen to music or play dumb games. It was the simple things, but they made a difference.

You took out an earphone whenever they seemed to be talking about anything interesting.
“Wait, you said Mom was…”too tired” right?” Dad asked his brother, making sure he had his facts straight.
“Yep” Uncle Dean snapped. He was obviously not buying the “tired” excuse. To be fair, it was an excuse you’d often find yourself losing.

“What?” Dad frowned.
“I don’t know..I just feel like something’s going on and she doesn’t wanna talk about it.” Uncle Dean admitted his suspicions.
“She’s back into Hunting, she just needs time. We can’t expect her to be perfectly okay.”
“Yeah. I guess…”

You sighed, watching them go back and forth. Of course Mary had every right to hunt on her own, to have any secrets she wants to keep, to be away from her family and still love them. But Uncle Dean appeared to have different ideas, he was family driven and couldn’t get his head around the fact that she didn’t want to be with them all of the time.

From what Mary had told you, it sounded like she’d spent the earlier years of her life running from the Hunting life, to be dragged back in…it couldn’t have been easy.

You wouldn’t be able to cope if Dad hadn’t wanted you to stay, if you’d have to go back to live in The Chapter House…

After a solid fifteen minutes of waiting in the car, you’d just about had enough of not being able to know what’s going on. No, you couldn’t pretend to be an FBI agent, but you didn’t have to.

Instead of waiting for Dad and Uncle Dean to arrive back from the Museum, you got out of the car and marched in. You held your head high and walked straight past a few people, acting like you were meant to be there.
No one questioned you or stopped you from walking in. When you spotted the “FBI” you strode over and leaned over Uncle Dean’s shoulder: “Sup.”

He jumped, staring at you with wide eyes soon turning to a disapproved frown. You giggled, having managed to scare him for the second time that day.
“Y/N?” Dad walked over to where you were, looking confused “How did you get in here?”

“Walked through the door.” You explained, looking at the cabinets filled with antiques and relics. “Anything interesting?”
“People don’t question you if you look like you know what you’re doing.” You shrugged, earning a small smile from the pair of them. 

“Okay I’m changing my vote to a ghost, this place is full of EMF.” Uncle Dean looked down at the small machine in his hand.
“That’s actually pretty normal for a Museum, all these antiques everywhere. there’s bound to be a few pissed of spirits.” Dad gently argued.

“Hey, check this out.” Dad pointed to the front of some sort of ship, forcing you and Uncle Dean to move closer to get a better look.
“The Star.” You read, picking up an information booklet, “Sunk in 1723…”

“Wait, I know something about something,” Uncle Dean held a finger up, making you pause “Gavin McLeod.”

You scrunched your face up “Who?”

“Crowley’s kid?!” Dad looked half impressed an half confused.

“Crowley’s got a kid?” You wonder aloud.

“Yeah, uh, long story.” Uncle Dean quickly dismissed the chance to recite it for you; you were beginning to think everything was a long story. “But, this is Gavin’s ship.”

Speaking of the King Of Hell, his caller ID appeared on Uncle Dean’s phone.
“Hey Crowley.” He sighed, putting it on loud speaker.
“I can’t believe you! You idiots let Lucifer’s lovechild live?!”
“How do you know about that?” Dad interrogated.
“I don’t owe you an explanation!”
“Oh great- that’s reassuring.” You rolled your eyes.
“I guess this is a bad time to ask you if you can ask Gavin to come over?”
“Why on Earth would I want to do that?!”
“We don’t owe you an explanation.” You echoed his excuse, making him scoff.
“Look, Crowley. When we let Gavin live in our world, possibly screwing up the rest of history and time, we didn’t hunt him down. So yeah, you do owe us something.” Uncle Dean explained, unfortunately, Crowley didn’t seem convinced.
“I can’t believe you three!” He hissed before hanging up.

“That’s a fascinating story,” Rowena smiled sickly, her Scottish accent filling the room “But you said there was something in it for me?” 
Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and leaned back.
“We’re gonna need your help to-

“I said for me.” She sighed, collecting her things and standing up to leave. Your Dad rose from his chair, grabbing her arm and holding her in position: “Sit down.” 

She hesitated, deciding whether to do so or not.Swallowing, she sat back down. Glaring at your Dad. Her eyes fluttered back to normal as she adjusted her position, getting comfortable.

“When we discover this eye witness, we can get our valuable information and you, well, you’ll want to meet them.” Uncle Dean promised.

“Who is this eye witness?” Rowena asked, her curiosity taking over her as she waited for someone to speak.

Your Dad smirked, looking between you and his brother. 

Sandwiched between your Dad and your Uncle, the three of you watched as the coach pulled up. It was large and silver, with one of those compartments for luggage.
“Gavin!” They called as a younger man walked off of the steps. He had dark brown hair, a navy trench coat and a satchel with his belongings. He strode over to you all, his eyes falling on yours. “Gavin, this is my daughter, Y/N.”
Dad shook hands with him, gesturing to you slightly.
“Y/N,” Gavin echoed “Hello.”
“Hey.” You greeted, noting his accent was much like Rowenas.

“You’re English!” He seemed more excited about this than you’d thought he’d be.
“Sure am.” You chuckled.

“So uh….how’s my Father?” He seemed to be asking you, making you back up slightly.

“About that,” Dad cleared his throat “We may have exaggerated…a little.”
“We lied.” Uncle Dean admitted “We lied.”
“We need your help-”
“Help!” He called, frightening one of the travelers as they walked past. You giggled as Uncle Dean tried to usher him away, assuring him no help was actually needed.
“We wanted to ask you about this.” You got your phone out and held up a picture of the ship.
“That’s the Star!” He grinned, squinting his eyes to see “That’s my ship!”

“Yeah it should have been.” Dad nodded, looking up as a car sounded.
A taxi parked and a certain Witch got out. Gavin looked up, confused. “You look just like my father when he was young” She grinned.
He frowned.
“Gavin, this is Rowena, you’re Grandmother.”
“My Grandmother…She can’t be alive.”
“Neither can you, mate.” You huffed “Don’t question it.”

“I would have thought all the wreckage would still be at the bottom of the Atlantic!” Gavin grinned as he studied the front of his ship back in the Museum. He walked around it a few dozen times, looking it up and down in fascination.

“Here’s a folder of what they recovered, recognise anything?” You handed him the folder, hoping to speed things up a little without sounding too rude. People’s lives were at stake.

“Amazing.” He said, eagerly taking it from your hands.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at him and leaning on the table behind.

“Nope…Nope…Nope” He flicked through the pages, glancing at the photos. You shared a look with your Dad, making him smirk.

“My God,” Gavin placed the folder on the table open on the page “That’s the locket.”
“The locket?” Dad questioned.

You leaned in, examining the picture and scanning the paragraph of information for anything useful or interesting.
“It’s the locket I bought…for my Fiona”
“Darlin’, you had a we girlfriend!” Rowena squealed.
“Fiona Dunken.” He said proudly.

“Hey.” Uncle Dean called you over to where he and your Dad were stood. You backed up to where they were, looking up expectantly.
“It’s missing.” He said, pointing at a stand.
“Maybe the ghost of this Fiona took it.” Dad suggested.

“My Fiona’s a ghost?!” Gavin butted in, looking insulted anyone would suggest such a thing.
“She’s vengeful, she wants clarity…She’s also very dangerous.” You sighed, knowing full well he wouldn’t want to hear this. His eyes said it all, they were shocked and barely managing to process the information you were telling him.

You stood behind your Dad and Uncle as they stormed in, shotguns armed with salt-bullets. Dad took a shot at the ghost-who must have been Fiona- she disintegrated through smoke. There was no doubt she’d be back soon.
 As she did so, you had to physically hold Gavin back so he didn’t run in to see if it truly was her. He struggled in your grip, making you press your thumb into one of the pressure points along the arm. He stopped struggling “Ow!”
“Don’t move then!” You hissed, letting him go since the ghost was gone.
Rowena watched with disapproval “Hush!”.

Holding his arm, he pouted “Okay…now what?”

“We need you to speak with her. We need to be sure it is her.” Dad explained. He lowered his gun fully and offered Gavin an encouraging smile.

“Oh restless spirit, make thy presence known to me…”

You waited on the other side of the door with Rowena, Uncle Dean and Dad. The ghost would be more likely to show if he was on his own. However, you had fully loaded firearms on the table to your right in case things got messy.

“…Fiona…’tis I: Gavin…”

You all waited in silence, straining to hear for cries of help. You had to prepare for the worst case scenario- just in case. As they spoke their voices became more and more louder and it appeared to be becoming an argument more than a conversation.
You noticed your Dad looking over to the shotguns, as if contemplating reaching for one. He licked his lips in thought before looking away. The room fell silent and you looked up at Dad.

He opened the door slowly, Uncle Dean holding a weapon just in case.

The three of you peered in to see Gavin stood in the middle of the room, watching an empty space with sorry eyes which was probably where Fiona had stood.

“Was it her?” Rowena asked, moving towards where he stood.
“Aye, it was Fiona.” He nodded slowly, his face hardened and he added “But not my Fiona.”

“So…we’re all agreed she needs to be stopped?” Dad spoke. Every nodded in response. “How? We can’t burn her bones if she’s at the bottom of the ocean?” You weren’t trying to be a pessimist, but you hadn’t any other ideas.
“Well,” Uncle Dean cleared his throat, eyeing Gavin “There might be a way to fix everything.”
“No.” Rowena snapped, meanwhile you were let to catch on. “We’re not sending him to his death. That’s not a solution.”
“Actually, I was thinking the same thing. If I go back in time and board the ship, time would go as it was supposed to.” Gavin agreed.

“You can send someone back in time?” You asked, intrigued,
“Aye, that’s how I arrived in the twenty first century. It’s a long story.” Gavin nodded.
“Isn’t everything…” You mumbled.

“Never gonna happen.” A certain King Of Hell decided to show his face. “Just because your family’s a mess doesn’t mean you get to mess with mine!” He shouted at the three of you. You frowned at the word “mess”.
“Let him go Fergus!” Rowena hissed.
“If you want to go so badly then why did you call me?!” Crowley ignored his Mother.
“You called him?” Uncle Dean said.
“Yes…I called you,” Gavin hesitated “I called you to say goodbye.”
Crowley stiffened and his head rose with realisation. 

Standing up to leave, Crowley reached out to stop his son. However Rowena held up her hand and chanted a sharp spell, making Crowley freeze. “…Mother…” He hummed, raising an eyebrow at her.

You watched with anticipation, unsure as to whether you could really have a valuable opinion on someone else’s situation. 
Gavin waled past, turning round to his Dad and saying “I’m sorry, Father…”

You watched as Dad prepared the last of the spell. Standing next to Uncle Dean, Gavin wondered over to join you both and sighed. “You ready?” You asked, glancing at his pale face.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

Dad held a blade up to his palm and sliced through, Gavin winced but didn’t say anything as he squeezed his blood into the bowl of ingredients.
“Are you sure this’ll work?” He asked.
“We’ve never actually done it before,” Uncle Dean admitted “But other family members have.”
You added “Plus Rowena tweaked the spell.”

“Hey, uh, Gavin,” Dad gently caught his attention “You’re a good guy. Thank you.”

Gavin nodded ad moved so he was stood in front of the three of you. He nodded “Hopefully, this is all for the best.” 

As Dad read the spell Fiona appeared at his side, her body translucent with a murky yellow tinge. The pair of them turned to face each other, both smiling and hands reaching for each others. Their bodies began to change so they both had a middle-ground between being see through and tangible. Then, as softly as she had appeared, they were whisked away back in time. 

You kept your eyes on the empty space. Gavin was nice. It was hard to believe Crowley was his father, although, something told you the King Of Hell had more of a heart than he let on.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you roll off of your bed to get into a position where you could answer it. You looked down at the caller ID and scowled. It was him again.
Why couldn’t that bastard just leave you alone?!
You’d had it.

“What?” You snapped, finally answering.



“Finally, why are you suddenly ignoring me?” He questioned.

“Why are you always calling me?” You were trying to keep your volume to a minimum. At this point, you didn’t want your Dad getting involved.

“Look, I get that you belong with your…Dad.” He had a hard time getting the word out “But you can still work with us. The idea was that you got us into the Winchester’s good books.”

“I never agreed to the bleeding idea in the first place!” You protested.

Sam Winchester stood outside your bedroom door, leaning against the wall and straining to hear. He listened curiously.

“Y/N, you trust us don’t you?” The man asked.
You didn’t answer.
“You trust me don’t you?” He altered the question a little in hopes for a response.
“I don’t know anymore…”
“Who do you trust?” He asked in such a way you could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he calculated a plan to re-earn your trust.
“I trusted Max…” You whispered.
“I know you did.”
“Your Dad?” He suggested.
My Dad?” You echoed, realising you didn’t know if you did or not. Sam lifted his head at the mention of himself. “I think I trust him…but I trusted you and look where that got me.”
“Y/N, I didn’t want to do that to you either. I’ve changed. Your Mum changed me.”
“My Mum’s dead.” You retorted “Change yourself.” 

As you approach your Dad and Uncle, they seemed to be talking about the case and how Cas still hasn’t found out much on Kelly. You silently agree before sitting down next to your Dad. 
He shoots you a frown, but doesn’t question what you’d been doing. “You okay?” He asked, perhaps hoping you’d explain.
“Mmmhmm.” You smiled.

He could have wanted to push you to say more, but Mary walking down the steps turned all attention away from you. 
“It’s been a while,” Uncle Dean expresses “A long long long while.” You kicked your Uncle’s shin from under the table, making him flinch “Ow!”
You stuck your tongue out at him, making Mary roll her eyes.

“I brought beers and burgers.” She declared. Mary placed the bags down on the table, smiling at you. You smiled back, thinking she had more to say.
“Forgiven.” Uncle Dean grinned, ripping open the case of beers.

“So, uh, what’ve you been up to?” Dad asked her, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh you know, chasing vampires, shooting werewolves, melting rugaru brains.”
Your head shot up at the mention and you squinted your eyes at her suspiciously. “What?” Uncle Dean questioned her.

She looked down and suddenly the happy family atmosphere was gone.

Realisation hit you: “You’ve been working with them…haven’t you?” She directy looked at you, guilty eyes and a tired stance. “There’s no easy way to say it…”

“I just did.” You snapped “You’re welcome.”


“Mom…” Dad sighed “We have a history with them.”

“I know, Sam. But what they’re doing, it’s incredible. We’ve saved so many lives-”

We? So you’re a we now?” Uncle Dean interrogated. The betrayal in his voice was harsh and thick. 

You watched as they went back and forth. You knew the most about The British Men Of Letters, they weren’t necessarily bad people… It was complicated and you thought you’d finally gotten out.
Truth was, you did miss parts of it. The Hunting they’d prepared you for was certainly easier and more effective. They’d practically wiped out every Supernatural species in the UK. 
It wasn’t all bad…you just wished they hadn’t kept your Dad from you for so long. And what they did to Mum… you couldn’t just forgive them for that.

“Don’t give me the face.” Mary folded her arms across her chest at her eldest.
“What face?”
The face.”
“There is no face.”
“That face!” She pointed at your Uncle, her voice loud.

“Mom…we don’t trust the Brits.” Your Dad trailed off when he spoke, noticing you becoming more and more awkward between the three of them.

“So where does that leave us?” Uncle Dean stood tall.

“Same as always. Family. Please, just hear me out.”

Part Fourteen- Pick A Side


I do not won these gifs

A/N: I’ve kinda worked my butt off all day to get this finished *phew*. Time to start planning for the next part I guess \_(-_-)_/

(Tag list after cut)

Keep reading

Companions are Dared to give Sole a Flower Crown Part 1

(Little goose-New admin~ I actually wrote this as a prompt so the owner could see that I can write so yeah I’ll have Maxson added tomorrow maybe (hopefully) )


Cait grumbled to herself about how pointless this was. She had weaved the flowers on a very bendy but durable stick. Most of the petals had fallen off the flowers, the flowers were going slightly limp, and the crown had fallen apart two times. Nonetheless, the crown itself had great beauty, the leaves that wrapped around the stick seemed to support the flowers and give them that extra boost to make them pop. The flowers were purple with a hint of green (mostly caused by the radiation) and the leaves, an extraordinary dark green. Cait’s face grew darker shades of red the closer she got to Sole.
“Here, have this stupid flower thing, sole.” Cait practically threw the crown at their head. Cait looked away as Sole admired the crown, turning it over in their hands and Fiddling with the semi loose leaves. When Sole told her that they thought it was beautiful, she was surprised, how could someone like sole think a radiated dirty, wilted flower crown be considered beautiful? Cait looked them in the eye slightly before rushing off, out of sight.


Curie was quite elated to give Sole such a crown. She thought they’d look wonderful with it on. Curie got on making the crown right away, picking the most undamaged twigs, leaves, and flowers she could find. Working on it was her number one priority. Finding the prettiest and fullest flowers were the main mission. The flowers varied in size shape and color. Some were a light green, or a dark purple. Others were red as blood and blue as the sky. Many of the settlers and companions were amazed by how preserved and beautiful the flowers were. It took Curie around two months to finish it but today was the day. Walking up to Sole, she placed the crown tenderly upon their head.
“Oh sole! You look even better than I imagined with the crown on! You are magnificent!” Sole chuckled at her, and ruffled her hair. Sole never once took the crown, it was too special. However, it did save their life when sole got shot near the head by a group of raiders. Sole was fine, however the bullet completely demolished the crown, sending both sole and Curie into tears, including a few settlers who had grown fond to it.


Codsworth would have loved to make sole a beautiful crown out of flowers, it gives him nostalgia from before the war when sole’s spouse made one themselves and had him wear it. However, Codsworth wasn’t capable of making one, he had a claw and a buzz saw as arms but he didn’t want to let sole down. He wandered around Sanctuary, clipping a bundle of flowers together. Finally he went to find sole, and started to gently place the flowers in their hair. Soon, sole’s hair was bundled up with the (mostly) pretty flowers of the commonwealth.


Danse wasn’t really the type of guy who made flower crowns in his spare time, but for sole…well sole was special to him. You could say he really cared about them and their wellbeing. So that is how he ended up doing the daré, isolated in his room, weaving flowers together with such skill you wouldn’t even think he’d had. For someone with as large hands of him, he had surprisingly nimble hands. Finally he had finished the crown. It wasn’t the best, it was his first time, but it went better than expected. The colors were simple, light purples, light greens, nothing extravagant. There were a few odds and ends sticking out and it was a bit lopsided. However sole loved it, when danse walked up to them, he was flustered and stumbled over his words a bit.
“I uh, I was told to make you this and um…here.” he placed it upon their head. He cleared his throat, becoming a little antsy and nervous. After his conversation with sole, he walked off, returning to his room, and if you looked closely, there was a faint smile that rested on his face.


Deacon gave out a light laugh and pushed his sunglasses up a bit.
“A flower crown? Pssshh!! That’s easy!” However, making a flower crown was actually more difficult than he thought. He couldn’t believe how hard it was and when sole asked him why he was in his room for around 10 hours without getting out he said with a nervous chuckle:
“I’m just ya know…practicing…spy stuff, it’s super secret I’m not allowed to talk about it.” He then closer the door and went on trying to attempt to make it for the 10th time that night. Tears, sweat, and internal screams finally paid off. He had constructed a flower crown. It was quite flimsy and delicate since he didn’t know that you needed something to really support the flowers from breaking off or falling out. Honestly, it was more of a headband, a few long, thin blades of grass were the support of the flowers. The flowers themselfs had been clipped just a tad too short that they couldn’t exactly stay in the crown. The flowers were small and tiny, some were just flowers buds, beginning to bloom. Walking up to sole with a wide grin in his face, he delicately placed it on them. The crown started to slip since it was a bit small, and sole giggled. Deacon started to regret making the crown but that changed when sole put an even worse flower crown on deacon’s head. How didthey managed to fail so bad at that? That was a question Deacon could not figure out. The two walked around Sanctuary, each with a flimsy, wilting crown atop their head.


Dogmeat is a dog. He has no opposable thumbs or even hands to construct such a thing. He whined, he wanted to show sole how much he loved them, even though he kissed and loved them everyday. He sniffed up and down, sometimes ending up in other settlers’…, searching for flowers. Every flower he thought would please sole, he would gently pull it out of the ground and run over to their house just to drop it on their bed. At the end of the week, sole’s bed had been covered in flowers of all different shapes and sizes and colors. This made Dogmeat happy, that every flower he gave sole made them smile ear to ear and pat his head. He wagged his tail and walked up to sole, dropping a pretty red flower at their feet, watched them pick it up and hug him. Nothing made him happier than sole being happy because of Dogmeat.


Hancock was very happy to make a flower crown despite the fact that he never made one, but he wanted to make sole happy. Popping in a few mentats, Hancock got to work on the crown. Throughout the night, he got frustrated several times because the flowers would not stay put and kept popping out or falling off. He ended having to restart two times since he tied the bass of the crown too tight, snapping it in half. When he finally finished the crown, Hancock carefully stepped away to admire the creation. The flowers were big and in full bloom, the colors were bright and pleasing to the eye. The next morning, he gently took it in his hands and headed towards sole.
“Hey there, sunshine, I made ya somethin’!” With a smile up in his face, he reached up and plopped the crown on sole’s head. He beamed in delight as Sole smiled at the crown and at him. The two wandered the settlement, Hancock glaring at anyone who gave sole a strange look for wearing the flower crown on their head.


Maccready was pretty embarrassed when given the dare. A hired mercenary like him would not be spending his afternoon making some dumb crown for his boss/friend. However, Maccready ended up spending his afternoon creating a half-assed flower crown. It was like a school project you didn’t want to do, throwing some stuff together that would maybe give you a passing grade, and hoped it work. Maccready just grabbed some flowers and a few weeds that were pretty. He pulled out a too thin of a base for it that he just weaved more and more of the base together and hoped that it would work decently. The flowers were simple, small blooms. They were flowers that you would pass by, not giving it a second glance. That’s what made them beautiful, they were the forgotten flowers, the weeds, the nuisances, but one person gave them the first glance and thought they were pretty. Maccready grumpily walked up to sole and placed the crown in their hands. He watched as Sole admired it and thanked him.
“Don’t thank me, I didn’t want to make it anyway, it was just a fricking daré.” He pulled his hat down to (try) hide the faint blush that creeper up his ears and face. The blush only darkened as the flower crowned sole leaned in and kissed his cheek then walked off, leaving him with a cocktail of emotions.


Nick smiled, a sad but warm smile. The flower crown before him reminded him of Jenny. The memory was fuzzy, but he could recall her laughter and her smile as she danced with a flower crown on her head. It was a sad memory, but it was a happy one, a memory before the country was turned into a radiated wasteland. Nick never made a flower crown, but he had an idea from the one in the memory. He weaved the leaves and flowers together with extreme concentration. It sat on his desk at the agency. When Ellie walked in on him when he was constructing it, he stuttered that it was just for a case. If a synth like him could blush at that moment, he’d look like a bright red tomato. Going up to sole, he smiled as he saw sole’s face light up noticing the crown.
“I uh, had some spare time, and well,” he chuckled slightly, “I made this, here.” He placed the crown on them and talked with them a bit, even sharing the memory of Jenny. He saw the corners of their face go up and they soon parted ways, each recalling a memory that would make them sad but happy for the rest of the day.

anonymous asked:

I feel like with the election of trump in America proved people are to dumb for democracy. The president is the head of the military and appoints a huge number of our leaders. It shouldnt be up to a popularity contest to choose him/her. Especially since barely anyone knows enough about economics/geopolotics/government/choose-ur-subject to legitimizes their opinion on who should be president. Only people educated enough to have an intelligent opinion should be legitimate. We need free college too

There’s a simple solution then: abolish the presidency. Tear down the corrupt state apparatus that only serves the interests of capital accumulation. Bring social organization down to directly-democratic interconnected federations and stop concentrating power into the hands of bureaucrats and capitalists. Trump absolutely shouldn’t have that much power, but that’s not the fault of the American people as though it exists in some isolated vacuum. The Democrats elevated Trump to the seat thinking he would be an easy defeat; the neoliberal status quo bred social unrest on both ends of the political spectrum; a rich sexual predator douchebag with no experience was allowed to weasel his way into the elections in the first place. A bullshit political system crafted by elite slaveowners to prevent genuine direct democracy of economic power laid the groundwork for this to happen eventually. Plenty of people voted for Trump out of racism and xenophobia, definitely, but to ignore the fact that racism and xenophobia thrive under divide-and-rule capitalism in the first place is to ignore the root cause.

People aren’t “too stupid for democracy” – that’s reactionary, elitist propaganda. We don’t even have full democracy as it is, so how can you even be a sufficient judge of that idea? We sure as hell don’t have democracy throughout most of our lives – most of the time we take orders from people higher up a corporate chain. First we need economic democracy and THEN we can have the discussion about whether or not people are “too stupid” for it.


Y/N: how many times to have to ask you guys to not come in my room, I don’t ask for anything but that, now it’s a mess.
Carl: it’s not even a mess, and I needed a pair of scissors, just didn’t know where they were.
Y/N: now have to fix everything over this is going to take all day.
Carl: stop being a baby.
Ian: *slaps the back of Carl’s head* don’t talk to her like that we may not quite get this but she does and we need to be there for her.
Lip: just don’t go in her room Carl, simple as that.
Carl: I don’t get what her problem is.
Y/N: dumbass I’ve explained this plenty of time I have OCD.
Lip: maybe if you explain to us what it’s like he’ll get it.
Y/N: to dumb it down for you guys, I keep everything in an order, I keep stability if you will. Everything in my room is in a perfect order but even when it’s perfect I find something not right. I do things over too, like I always make sure the stove is off four times before I live the house, I make sure my windows are closed at night usually twice, I don’t get pleasure from any of this just a brief release from the thoughts. I don’t mean to to rude to you guys I love you I really do but my brain’s just a little unscrewed I’m sorry.
Ian: don’t be sorry this is you and we get that.
Carl: I never looked at it like that I’m sorry for going in your room.
Y/N: it’s ok just don’t do it again please.

-requested by anon
-not my gif

He's trying...
  • Edward: Okay… I’ve analyzed the problems with the previous two nygma-plans. Relying on the injectors introduced too many complicating variables. Now we only have to rely on simple physics! We’ll wait until Batman gets right up under us, not suspecting a thing - because he’s so dumb - and then we’ll drop this rock right on his stupid head! It’s even more flawless! And at this height, nothing can fall on us!
  • Jonathan: What if he doesn’t stop where we want him to?

anonymous asked:

why can't harry ask azoff to help louis?

Because it’s not that simple.  The Azoffs aren’t this all powerful wizarding family that can come in and magically break contracts and save the day.  For whatever reason, Louis is stuck.  Even if you watch Artifact, it doesn’t have the perfect ending.  Sometimes the music industry is shitty and you have to make choices when you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place and for whatever reason that seems to be where Louis is.  

He’s stuck in some weird situation and I don’t believe for one second that he was too dumb to know better (nor do i believe that he chose it willingly).  Nobody with even the tiniest bit of business knowledge can make sense of what’s happening with him.   What i wouldn’t  give to know the whys of the situation, but sadly I don’t.    But it’s not because people aren’t trying to help him.  

This Was Suppose To Be Easy

Prompt: Ooh… I just want tythan struggling to assemble Ikea furniture Thanks for the prompt anon!!







Tyler sighed in relief.

“It just fell out of place.” Ethan blushed.

“Need a hammer or screwdriver?”

“Uhhh screwdriver.”

“You hold the piece in place, ok?”

“Yepppp! I can do that.”

Tyler laughed.

Soon they had finished putting together all the dining chairs.

“Now, how do we open this.” Ethan asked, looking at the upside down box that held the pieces for a dining table.

“We flip it over.”

“Do you not see the ‘HEAVY’ label on the box?!”

“It can’t be /that/ heavy.”

“Alright big boi, then you try flipping it over.”

“I will.” Tyler said before doing it with ease.

“Show off.” Ethan mumbled.

Tyler laughed.
“Do you have the box cutter?”

“Uh no. I’ll go get it.” Ethan scrambled to his feet.



Tyler grabbed Ethan by his legs and pulled him into his lap.

“I told you no running!” Tyler chuckled.

“No you said no running with a knife. I wasn’t.” Ethan grinned.

“Yes you were.” Tyler chuckled before tickling Ethan.



Ethan couldn’t reply, he was laughing too much.

~small time skip~

“I’m use to sets coming with extra screws. But extra table tops? That’s just weird.”

“Have you ever even put a table together before?”

“As a matter of fact I have.” Ethan grinned proudly.

“Then how do we put this together?”

“Uhhhmm… You put the flat piece here,“ Ethan started singing to the tune of Hokey Pokey.
“And the small piece here. You put this piece here, and you screw it all in.”

“That doesn’t go in there, Ethan.”


Tyler chuckled at him. “Good try though.”

“Did we order the wrong table?”

“I don’t think so… the label on the box is correct…”

“So we’re just being fucking dumb.”

“Honestly we probably are.”

“Should we google it?”

“What would you even search?” Tyler chuckled.

“I don’t know! What to do with too many tabletops?!”

Tyler fell back laughing.

“What?! You have a better idea??”

“Why don’t we check the website?”

Ethan ran to find his laptop.

“Oh fuck. We’re fuckin dumb.” Ethan sighed.

“What is it?” Tyler looked over Ethan’s shoulder.

“We bought a table with extending leafs.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We spent, how long trying to figure this out? A half an hour? Just for something as simple as this?!” Tyler let out a frustrated groan.

Ethan burst out in laughter.


“You’re yelling at a table!”

Tyler stared at him for a minute. Then he cracked a smile.

Then a chuckle.

Then a light laugh.

Then he was rolling on his back with laughter.

“Tyler. Tyler! You need to breathe! You can’t die on me now!! I need help with the table!!”

That just made Tyler laugh even harder.

~time skip~


Ethan burst into laughter.
“You’re holding it upside down, Tyler!”

Ethan was too busy laughing to realize that Tyler stood up.
Then suddenly Ethan was being held upside down by his ankles.


“Can you read it now?” Tyler grinned.

“Oh fuck off and put me down.” Ethan squirmed.

“Stop squirming or you’ll fall.”

“Yes let me fall to my death. The sweet release of death!”

“Why are you so over dramatic?”

“Because you love me.” Ethan grinned.

Tyler layed him down on his back and hovered over him. Ethan looked up at him. Tyler leaned down as Ethan leaned up.

“Hey! No fair! I was gonna kiss you!”

“Well too bad. I’m kissing you.” Tyler grinned before kissing him.

“Ok come on. We gotta finish this fucking table.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

anonymous asked:

heyyy can i request how would svt be if their girlfriend is someone who is a movie geek/expert? like not just about the recent ones but the classics too?

Hi! Thank you for the ask :)


  • very impressed with your knowledge and adores the bits of info you provide while watching movies despite his distracting kissing because he can’t get enough of you
  • he also LOVE it when you impress other people and he can stand by your side looking proud 


  • loves that you have a hobby that lets him curl up with you to watch movies, but like seungcheol he also takes the chance to kiss you as much as possible, probably on the neck, so he’s distracting 
  • he tells people about it. a lot. like “oh, Y/N knows all about that” and loves to watch you explain things about movies to people or correct them when they say dumb things


  • when you hang out sometimes the two of you rewatch the kinds of classic films he had to put up with in school in L.A. and this time finds he’s actually really enjoying them,, maybe because you’re at his side this time
  • gets embarrassed about his own tastes, so you have to assure him you like simple stuff too, and so each of you watch each others things


  • “ah, makes sense why you fell for me and my classic good looks” *strikes as many classic move poses as he can think of* 
  • definitely makes you recreate classic movie romance moments in selfies and photos together. even does his own research to pick good ones.


  • he definitely teases you a little about the classic movies because he might not quite have the attention span for them, but you can tell he’s impressed even if he watches things like pixar’s cars in his spare time
  • asks you for dance film recommendations! watches those movies with you and jumps up occasionally to try some moves. get him watching dirty dancing


  • this nerd is probably super into any this of display of intelligence and it literally has his with heart eyes and that scrunch nose smile
  • debates with you about the pros and cons of movies vs books and loves every second of it for the way it engages him and shows your dynamics as a couple


  • loves to quietly sit and listen and just watch you when you talk about movies. finds it very soothing to his stress to see your own passion, even if it is in a different area than his
  • definitely has the capacity to enjoy the classics and wants to spend his relaxing times with you watching


  • would believe literally anything you told him about movies and listens with wide eyes when you tell him stuff, nodding his head. you could probably trick him into thinking crazy things about the film industry if you wanted to
  • another distracting kisser during movie time. he sees romantic things on screen and he just can’t resist turning cuddling into kissing


  • a fun reaction-giver when you show him your favorite movies. makes all the noises, gasps and jumps, and tells you how much he loves it all
  • another smirky flirt “ah, so that was romantic, must remind you of me, right?” “lucky you have me to kiss you like this, huh?”


  • asks you to show him some good horror films or weird surrealist stuff because we learned form OFD that he loves that stuff
  • snuggles to no end!!! i feel minghao would be the kind who would love quiet simple displays of affection like cuddling while you watch a movie


  • tells everyone how smart you are. there’s no one he meets who doesn’t hear “… yeah and my girlfriend, who’s a movie expert by the way….” 
  • will listen willingly to anything you want to tell him about movies, even if it means pausing the movie a thousand times to hear the info, because he loves passionate people so much


  • anything that makes someone unique brings out those giant heart eyes in vernon’s book. you have him captivated by this part of you
  • tries his best to learn things to connect with you on a movie level. maybe even quickly watches some of the classics to catch up, and delights in hearing your opinions on things


  • intelligence would be a huge thing for this boy again, and he asks a billion questions after each movie to make sure he understood it, delighted when he impresses you with an insightful observation 
  • tells you about the cinematic dynamics of MJ music videos and definitely likes hearing whatever you want to share about movie stuff in return
PDA - Real VS Fake as Fuck

When you study Publicity you discover things that you knew but you were too dumb and blind to see. 

LIKE PDA for example. PDA is something that we can discuss (i have other subject but i will talk about it in a other post). How can we notice the difference between Real and Fake? and Fake how? 

Its very simple. 

For Example: Miley and Liam during Valentines day 


Mia And Darren in not special day

Miley and Lian pic the paparazzi was hidden, you can see there is no flash, no pose. There is too much noise and low quality.  Also if you look for this day pic you will find several of them at the same way, they eating, going to their car…anyway …you got it. A paparazzi following celebrity style.

Mia and Darren the “paparazzi” was too close, used flash, clean image, and all the pics are of them walking to some place then gets over. Where did they go? What did they do? We don't know. 

Now you could ask…Okay but? I will explain. When a paparazzi follows someone famous he truly follows him, getting so many pictures he can, you can see on this video (

“Oh but darren is not that famous” they dont care, if you’re knowing for do something specially on TV they will follow you. the Second pic its a Posed Pic, those type are very common to see like Taylor Swift with Tom in a vacation last year (tryiong to prove they were real) or like Lea Michele in Hawaii this year.

Also…. Miarren pics are always like this one.