this is really jarring if you watch the rest of the video

Anon: can you do an analysis on 2013-2014 ji/kook please? thank you!

Anon: Do you think there’s a relation between Jungkook’s change of behavior towards Jimin from when he was underage to when he finally turned 20??? I feel like after finally not being underage anymore, that’s when he really changed and got bolder, shy-less and stuff.. He wasn’t like this, and now he’s.. Well, basically killing us with everything he does.    

Anon: Do you think that Jimin’s fainting incident was a turning point for kook/min? I always thought that JK seemed to be a lot sweeter and softer with Jimin after that, but i could just be imagining things so I wanted a second opinion :) love you!!                    

Anon: you are my favourite kook/min blog!! kekekeke i was wondering what you think of tsundere!kook thinking that taking off his jacket for yoonji is cool when he did the same thing for jimin during their WoH shoot :))) 

That’s right: I’m going to answer all these questions and comments in one long essay. I’m not kidding. This is like.. really long. It’s Jungkook-centric and head canon-heavy. Bring your tinfoil hats.

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One Last Goodbye (Avengers X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Avengers X Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengera

Warnings: Death, mourning. 

SUPER SAD!!!!!!!

Request: hello! I was wondering if you could write a reader x avengers where the reader died during a mission. Fury give Tony a USB key and told him to watch the video with the rest of the avengers. on the video the reader is talking about how much she loved them and tells each avenger little facts that she loved about them and she thanks them for being her family. I don’t know if that make sense.. sorry I’m french :) thank you if you write my request. bye, I love you xx

Originally posted by captainbuckybarness

Originally posted by crimson-oceans

It had been a month.

You had gone on a mission alone. They didn’t have a specific time for you to come back, and you were undercover, so the avengers didn’t bat an eyelid when you didn’t call in and didn’t come back in over a month. But then they heard the news.

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We Can Feel So Far (From So Close) (2/2)

Waiting until your best friend left for a cross country tour was a fine time to realize you’re in love with him. Captain Swan.

Almost 3 months after posting the first part of this story, I’m finally here to finish it off. Believe me when I say I wasn’t planning to take so long, but a rough semester of school kept me from doing as much work on this as I wanted to. I didn’t think I’d be posting this today since this morning it wasn’t even finished, but somehow or another my heartbreak over Jen announcing her exit from OUAT caused me to throw myself into this. (I’ll be completely honest, the only time I haven’t been bawling my eyes out today is while I’ve been writing.) Also, a big thank you to everyone who have read and reviewed this story so far. You honestly don’t know how much the kind messages and reviews have meant to me over the past few months. I hope you enjoy the final part of this two shot as much as I enjoyed creating it. <3  

Part 1 | Rated T | Word count: 9,529 |Also on AO3 and

You could blame it on Neal, on her wavering self-esteem, or on a number of different things she’d been forced to deal with during her nearly twenty-eight years of life so far. Either way, Emma found it nearly impossible to believe that Killian could somehow be in love with her.

If anything, he probably viewed her as the sister he never had. And she’d seen enough movies and TV shows to know how situations like hers typically ended: awkwardly. It was just best all around if she kept all of this hidden, and hoped she would be able to act somewhat normally around Killian when he came back from the West Coast. (This causes her to wonder, not for the first time, if he’ll even be back for long at all once the tour is over with. It’s not likely that he’ll want to stay in Boston and work at the bar again when he’s guaranteed to have dozens of opportunities thrust at him.)

Their next Skype call takes place two weeks later on a Saturday afternoon (morning for him) when he’s in San Francisco, taking advantage of the wi-fi at a cafe near his hotel. Emma tells him he looks like something out of a movie, the outline of the Golden Gate Bridge even visible from a distance behind him. “I feel like you should be writing me a love letter or something with dramatic music playing in the background,” she tells him while she finishes off her second plate of pancakes. She quickly regrets the “love letter” part, and hopes he doesn’t read too much into those particular words.  

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BTS reaction to their s/o calling them oppa

“Hi there!! <3 May I please request BTS reaction to you calling them oppa for the very first time? Thanks a lot and take your time- Anonymous”

Yay! Another reaction request! Guys send in other requests as well. I do reactions and scenarios too! send in some reactions requests too Pretty please? Lets get on with this! I hope you like this anon <3 Again I apologize for the delay. 


He was sitting in the living room, flipping through channels. “Jin, can you please help me?” you called from the kitchen. That did not get his attention. “OPPA!” you screamed. As soon as he heard that word he was out of his seat and running towards the kitchen. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?” he asked. “I was asking if you could open this box for me, it’s shut really tight” you pleaded. “I will, if you call me oppa again” You sighed. In the cutest voice you could muster “Oppa, can you please open this for me” you said. “ He gave you a kiss on the forehead and proceeded towards opening the jar of cookies. (ignore the mic in the gif)

Originally posted by vmon


Yoongi was as usual taking a nap, after a hard day at work. He hadn’t eaten anything, and as soon as he came home he dropped on the couch and fell deep alseep. You did not want to disturb him, so you decided on cooking something for him, and in the meantime he could sleep. You crouched down to the level of the couch. “Oppa, wake up. I made you soup. Eat some and then go to sleep”. His eyes shot open. “Did I just hear you call me oppa?” You nodded while handing him the bowl of soup. He smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “You should do it more often” 

Originally posted by allforbts


He was practicing the choreography in the rehearsal studio. You brought a change of clothes and some snacks for him since he was working very hard. The music was loud. You tried getting his attention by calling his name, but he was too immersed in dancing. You turned down the music a little “Oppa, I brought your change of clothes and some food” He immediately stopped dancing. “He took the clothes from your hand and threw them on the floor. He grabbed you by the waist and gave you a sweet kiss. He then started jumping around in excitement “Finally, I never thought I would hear that word” 

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


Namjoon was cleaning around the dorm, when you came in. You felt bad for him since he usually had to clean up after the boys. His back was facing you, so you wrapped your arms around his waist and said “Oppa you work so hard all day, you should rest when you get home” He dropped the vase he was cleaning. He looked at you wide eyed. “ Jagi, thank you” was all he said and he planted a soft kiss on your forehead, before rushing to get the broom. “Watch out for the glass baby” he called out to you. 

Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon


Taehyung wanted to cuddle with you, so he was bothering you. Your exams were coming up and you needed to study, but Tae was being a distraction. “Oppa, I would love nothing more than cuddling with you, but I have tons of work to do” He stopped talking and went silent. “Are you okay?” you asked him in concern. “My dream just came true” he told you ina trance like state. “What dream?” “I dreamt for days that you would call me oppa, and you just did” he said (being extra as always) You just let him be, because he would distract you even more if you indulged in a conversation.

Originally posted by jmins


You and Jimin were out and about, shopping around for things. You were in a flower shop, and you saw the most beautiful chrysanthemum flowers. In excitement you called Jimin  over “Oppa! look at these flowers” you said in awe. Jimin simply smiled and kept on looking at you. His heart was beating really fast and he didnt think you could look any more beautiful in you awestruck state“Not as beautiful as you look right now” he whispered while kissing your temple gently. He then grabbed your hand and exited the shop.

Originally posted by yoonmin


Jungkook was in the dorm living room, playing video games. You were sitting on the couch next to him, reading a book. He looked over to you for a second and smiled to himself. You noticed and in your immersed state you said “ Oppa, stop looking at me like that. I need to read, you are distracting me” Jungkook dropped the controller from his hand. He turned to you and gave you an incredulous look “Ummm… jagiya its okay that you called me oppa now, but dont ever call me that again. Its very awkward.” “What so it was okay to be asking that girl in the Boy in Luv video to call you oppa?” you asked. “That was different, and it was in a song, and it was a verse I happened to sing” You sighed “Okay fine… I wont, and its awkward for me too” you replied going to back to your book.

Originally posted by junqkookied

I really hope you like it :) Have a good day!



Magic, The Kind You Get in Mushrooms

This is the first of a few little fluffy domestic!bughead fics I think I’m gonna write. I’ve had so many lovely dad!jughead ideas from the gorgeous @believe-that-you-can-my-friend that I’m just gonna have to write them all!

P.S. I realised that my anon asks have stupidly been off this whole time, but they are on now if you have any requests you’d like to send my way <3

Betty couldn’t stop her fingers from tapping against the worktop as she waited for her husband to come home. It was his turn to pick their daughter, Juliet, up from school but the time was dragging on as she busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning up invisible dirt and arranging the jars so that all the labels were facing forwards in uniform. 

The keys in the door sent another tingle of anticipation through her as she moved to the fridge, pulling out a little container of sliced fruit to give to Juliet as a snack, hearing the door open and her family bumble in. 

“…and she said that Elsa was the best princess but I told her that I liked Princess Peach the best because she has the pink motorbike…” Juliet’s little voice floated down the hallway and Betty chuckled, already picturing the proud smirk on Jughead’s face as their daughter talked about the video games he played with her. 

“You tell ‘em, Juliebee,” Jughead cheered, helping her with her things. “Ah, wait. Shoes off first,” he warned, biting his lip against a smile at the grownup way she sighed and rolled her eyes, something she’d picked up from her mother, looking the spitting image Betty in that moment. “And less sass, little lady!” he chastised, making her squeal as she tried to run away from him, fingers tickling her sides. 

“Mommy!” Juliet yelled, coming to grab onto her mom’s leg in protection, giggling as Jughead rounded the corner, menacing grin on his face. 

“Hey, lovebug, good day at school?” Betty asked, stroking the dark curls back from Juliet’s forehead and handing her the snack. She took it and started munching away, waiting for Betty to lift her onto one of the bar stools under the counter. 

“It was good. Lily said that Charlie couldn’t spin around for a minute and then walk in a straight line but he could. He’d just drank his milk though and he barfed everywhere!” she told her mom in excitement, eyes shining. Betty blanched, eyes flicking to Jughead, knowing that their daughter’s reaction to grossness was definitely his doing. 

“Lovely,” Betty settled on replying, trying to shake the image from her head while her own stomach churned slightly. Taking a deep breath she tried to focus on her own excitement. Catching Jughead’s eyes she raised her eyebrows in question. He responded with a nod, grin lighting up his face as they took their own seats at the counter. 

“Juliebee? Me and your mom have something to tell you,” Jughead started, drawing her attention away from the food in front of her - a difficult feat considering she was Jughead’s child. 

“What?” she asked, clear green eyes flicking between both of them curiously. When they didn’t answer her immediately she furrowed her brows, perfectly pink bottom lip pushing out slightly. “What is it?”

“How would you feel about being a big sister?” Betty asked, apprehension coursing through her body as the little girl stared blankly back at her. 

“That would be cool,” she said finally, nodding her head firmly as if she’d thought about this very seriously. Betty and Jughead laughed in unison, him leaning over to ruffle her hair.

“That’s good, because we’re going to have a baby,” he said smiling down at her angelic little face. 

“When are we going to get it? Today?” she asked, hope lighting up her voice. Betty laughed, enjoying her innocence. 

“No, baby, it’s in my tummy,” Betty said, resting a hand lightly over her abdomen. “They have to do some growing first.” Juliet narrowed her eyes, staring intently at the spot Betty’s hand covered as if she could see the baby if she squinted hard enough. 

“How did it get in there?” she questioned, tilting her head to one side, cogs turning in her head. Betty looked up sharply, wide eyes meeting Jughead’s, identical expressions on their faces. They had hoped they could skip this line of questioning but that didn’t seem to be the case. At Jughead’s panicked expression Betty smirked suddenly, wariness slipping onto his features at whatever scheme his wife was cooking up. 

“Um, your daddy is better at explaining things, he’ll tell you,” Betty rushed out before Jughead could protest, slipping off the stool and moving around the kitchen again, blowing a dumbfound Jughead a kiss over their daughters head. He narrowed his eyes at his impossible wife, heart still fluttering with how he got so lucky nonetheless. 

“Err, well you see…” he trailed off, wracking his brains. Suddenly an idea hit him. “You know how when we play Mario he eats the mushrooms that can turn him small or big or shiny? Well, Mommy ate a special mushroom and now she has a baby growing in her tummy!” he finished triumphantly. Ok, so it wasn’t his best lie but it was all he had. Betty coughed, trying to hide a laugh. Oh, she was in for it later, Jughead thought. He turned his trepidatious eyes back to his daughter, watching her work through what he’d said. 

“I don’t like mushrooms,” she finally said, scrunching her nose up delicately. Jughead couldn’t help the laugh that burst through his lips, throwing his head back at the ridiculousness of it all. He came round to stand beside her, kissing her on the forehead before picking her up and setting her on the ground. 

“Me neither, Juliebee, me neither,” he said, still chuckling slightly as he watched her run off to play. Betty came closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him, mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“Magic mushrooms? Really, Juggie?” she smirked. He slipped his hands around her hips, shaking his head at her. 

“Hey, if you’re gonna delegate the responsibilities you better be more careful about which ones you give to me,” he joked, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. She laughed against his mouth. The sound of tiny feet thudding against the floor pulled them apart as they turned to see Juliet standing in the doorway, breathing fast and eyes wide. 

“Sammy had mushrooms on his pizza today!” she yelled. Jughead’s mouth opened, no words coming out as Betty doubled over, laughing with abandon at the flaw in his explanation and their daughter’s panicked face. Maybe she should have done the talking after all. 

hi. hello. so this fic isn’t finished or even polished. this is really just kind of like a preview of a fic, i guess? but i’ve been working on it in the background for a while - it’s my “i’m frustrated with all of my WIPs so i’m going to work on this instead” fic, but i thought i would send the first couple thousand words out into the world and see if anyone likes them.

this fic’s working title is “kent parson’s imaginary cat (and other adventures)” and originally it was going to be a funny 5+1 thing about how kent’s cat is terrible and hates everyone, but then?? idek what happened. actually, i do know. what happened is that brevity is not my strong suit and also i started thinking too long and hard about what happened to the other friends that kent and jack had in the Q and what they thought about everything that went down. then i wanted to write about a former Q teammate being traded to the aces and re-uniting with kent. and also kit purrson being mean to said teammate.

okay, well anyway, please have this first chapter-ish of a troyson fic that i may or may not ever finish. (your encouragement would go a long way.) it’s really for @zimmermaenner :)

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etherealbatwing  asked:

Hello! May I please get some HCs for the chocobros and how they would react spending the night with their S/O for the first time? The thing is it was completely by accident that they end up having to do so~

OKAY OKAY, SO I’m bad at this s/o thing bc i much prefer character/character shippy things, so it’s very neutral and if you close your eyes it works for any ship really. BUT I did it?? I think? I DON’T KNOW GUYS. 

After being fussed over by royal attendants all day, then dragged around the Citadel to blocks of princely meetings he paid little mind too, Noctis only wants to feel some semblance of normalcy again. So when he’s had a long day, Noct usually finds himself making evening visits that end with him on their couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, suit jacket slung over the armrest and tie hanging loose against his chest. Popping a few of the buttons open on his dress shirt lets him feel like he can breathe again. He makes a passing mention of having a massive headache, but apparently finds himself well enough to stare at flashy pixels for the rest of the evening; he gets up to turn on the gaming console and grab the two controllers off the entertainment center, tossing the second one at them (the one that will give them the 2nd player screen, because even though it might be their house, he is the prince and he’ll use that as leverage— but only for important things, like making sure he’s got the 1st player, top screen view).

It’s a small activity, filled with sitting close enough to bump shoulders, playing dirty to get ahead, and cursing at each other with a smile on each of their faces, but Noct just wanted this. To come over, play some video games with his favorite person, and unwind— and he does. So much so that when they get up to grab something to drink from the kitchen, they return to find Noctis laying across the couch, controller loosely still set in his hands, head resting where they were previously sitting, out cold. In short, it ends up being an impromptu sleepover.

He’ll wake up, long eyelashes fluttering, with his head in their lap and their hand brushing through his hair. Noctis has a moment of tired deliriousness where he’s trying to figure why the ceiling looks nothing like the one in his room before he catches the other’s gaze. Oh. Right. He shifts in their lap and makes a move to sit back up, only to be gently kept against them. A blush rises against his cheeks as he tries to apologize, his voice a low, sleepy rumble in his chest. They can tell he’s trying to play it off with a cool attitude, but the redness tingeing his ears says otherwise. He’s probably asking a million self-conscious questions in his head, most of which come across as a blow to his imagined nonchalant-ness— he’s worried about snoring too loud, sleeping with his mouth open, drooling on them— but he manages to ask what time it is. 3am. With their hand still in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and his eyes closing as he tucks his face against their stomach and sighs, there’s no argument. He might as well stay the rest of the night.

With Prompto, accidentally staying over the first time is unquestionably because of an accident. This boy tries so hard to impress the one he likes and what better way to do so than help them make dinner? He comes over prepared: finds the recipe that morning, picks up all the necessary groceries, and arrives at 6 o’clock sharp to get started. He’s only a little mad at himself for forgetting his “Kiss the Cook” apron at home. Nonetheless, Prompto insists that he do it all himself, arguing that they do too much for him as it is—and maybe he feels a little guilty over the fact that they paid the quite substantial bill for their last diner date at Galdin Quay in its entirety. The least he can do cook a small meal for the two of them. Except it’s not small. And it’s exceedingly more complicated (and expensive) than anticipated; but it’s fine! He’s been watching a lot of cooking shows lately, that’s definitely gonna pay off tonight.

Except none of it is much help when he’s quite a bit flustered being around someone that makes his heart flip in his chest just from meeting his eyes, let alone actually laughing at his stupid puns (‘Penne for your thoughts?’ he said, pouring the penne into the boiling water. And they had actually giggled, like, a real one! Not out of pity!) But the combination of being nervous and jittery while trying to be a literal Bobby Flay, causes him to forget to put the lid on the blender. There’s a quick pulse, a decisively girlish screech, and then silence. There’s now homemade spaghetti sauce splattered over the walls, down the counter, and, mainly, all over Prompto. Down his chest, in his hair and across his face. He thinks for a moment that they’ll be peeved, but when he’s greeted with the sound of laughter and a finger swiping at the line of sauce down his freckled cheek to take a taste, he’s relived if not extraordinarily embarrassed. 

By the time they’ve got his clothes in their washer, him in the shower, and dinner finally done, it’s late; his clothes still need to dry and food still needs to be eaten. When Prompto comes out of the bathroom, hair damp and drooping without any gel, wearing some mismatched amalgamation of their clothes he borrowed, it’s natural to suggest that he spend the night. He agrees, perhaps a bit too eagerly, laughing and watching them break out a jar of spaghetti sauce to replace the one now slowly drying against the wall.

Gladiolus tends to pride himself on being smooth— in some part, it’s the charm that got him in this relationship in the first place— but, damn, is he so much more sweetly conniving than they initially gave him credit for. Usually he finds himself planning dates on the weekends, but when he calls them on a weekday to let them know he’s dropping by their place for a visit after work, they know something’s up. It doesn’t hit them until they’re cuddled up on the couch, hand-in-hand and stomachs full after a junk food filled night of Cup Noodles and a couple beers, watching the nightly news. “A strong storm front moving in bringing periods of light snow throughout the evening, ending in a combination of sleet and freezing ra—“ A dusting of snow had the entire city of Insomnia shutting down, let alone a whole inch. “It is advisable that people stay off the roads if possible and take caution to avoid—“

Gladio pulls them closer to kiss the top of their head and smiles into their hair, “Guess I’m spending the night then?“ And that’s all it takes. Honestly, how had they not seen this coming? He’d planned this since he heard the weather report two days ago; he knows what he’s trying to set up. They have to resist laughing with a roll of their eyes when he excuses himself to grab something out of his car and comes back with a small, pre-packed sports bag filled with spare clothes, a toothbrush, a razor… he is not trying to hide this at all. Talk about over-confident. Yet still strangely coy enough to have never outright asked to spend the night without an excuse? Cute.

The night is spent doing lot of shitty movie watching, finding the worst direct to television productions possible and binging them— everything ranging from one about supernatural sharks, to another about a scorned housewife that plays off like a daytime soap opera. Gladio’s infectious laugh makes them both more than giddy and they find themselves making fun of every little corny line and botched CGI until the credits roll then the early morning block of infomercials start playing. Gladio stands up, back and arm muscles pulling his tattoo taut as he stretches and yawns before hoisting them up too. Tossing them a wink, he declares himself ready for bed and saunters on into their room, shedding his shirt on the way. It’s like he’s lived there the whole time, like this wasn’t something new. The casualness of it all is more than welcoming. 

The shops began closing their doors and the plaza’s usual throngs of people were thinning when Ignis suggests calling it an evening; it’s getting quite late after a long night of a reserved, high-class dining and walking the city streets together, popping in and out of small boutiques and sitting on park benches, watching daring street performers make their living. It’s painfully obvious that Ignis doesn’t often find time to unwind— and, gods, does it take an hour or so to whittle the advisory persona down— but from the way his shoulders slouch far more than usual, the way his lips curve into a smirk instead of a tight line of concentration, the way he backtalks and quips, anyone can see the ease the night has brought him. Being nothing short of an extraordinary gentleman, he’ll offer to drive them back to their place. He outright refuses to let them take the Insomnian subway system at the dead of night.

So the plan was to end the night at their doorstep— walking them up the steps, leaving a chaste kiss against their lips with a promise to see them again soon— except when he retreats, leaving them floating on air in the doorway, watching him get into his car with an almost dorky wave goodbye, Ignis can’t get his stupid royal car to start. Gods, it’s making the saddest little stalling noise and it’s nearing midnight, and Ignis is a little panicked when the ‘check engine’ light turns on. When he’s asked to come inside their house to figure out what to do next, he agrees, a tad defeated. Once inside, they ask him to stay the night— not for sleazy intentions. It’s simply that Hammerhead is far away and overnight towing is expensive. Despite the fact that they know he can pay for it, it seems senseless. Stay the night and wait until morning? 

Ignis feels alight with nerves. He clears his throat and tries a few excuses as to why he shouldn’t stay— it’s not out of ungratefulness, he assures them. Most of what he says is trivial, nervous talking that stems from not wanting to sleep in his clothes, or not having clean clothes to wear the next morning, or disturbing their sleep. He plays it off as being a bother, but, really, he’s reluctant to let them see him not at his best; as if this will change their whole view of him if they see him so undignified in the morning, with his horrendous bedhead and un-pressed clothes. It’s a level of personal that Ignis is not used to anyone seeing. But when their hand is on his, and their waving off his excuses, he’s convinced to stay.

Regardless, they can’t stop him from being so apologetic for imposing on them, acting as if he sabotaged his own car. And, wow, he is so awkward when he crawls into bed with them, murmuring little apologies when his legs, bare from stripping down to his briefs, brushes against theirs. They convince him it’s more than fine by tangling them together to guide him closer into their arms, where he’ll find that he spends the rest of the night.

Sleep - pt 6

Originally posted by jminies

Jimin slammed the front door closed and walked straight into his room, without noticing that you were siting down in the kitchen enjoying some watermelon.

He obviously wasn’t in a good mood so you continued reading your book. A few moments later he came out of the room, towel in hand, and locking eyes with you.

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I have a confession to make: I’ve been slacking on the omgcp train because… I got a Nintendo Switch… and the new Zelda is just too good

It did get me thinking about how the Haus (really the frogs) would react if someone brought home a Nintendo Switch though. Probably Bitty (who’s in his senior year at this point)? As a gift from Jack, who bought it deciding he wanted to give it a try after a life of non-video gaming? The two probably had some fun playing Zelda and 1, 2 Switch in Providence but decided it was too much of a time-suck for the two of them (senior year, Bitty’s Samwell captaincy, NHL captaincy), so Bitty drags it along with him back to Samwell.

Of course, Chowder’s been keeping track of Nintendo stuff, and his family/friends back home have been posting on social media about it, taunting him, when he knows they’re sold out within a twenty-mile radius of campus, so the boy is DYING to play it. When he sees the Switch in front of the television downstairs, he lets out a squeal an opera singer would applaud at. Nursey and Dex are very confused.

Nursey and Dex have probably all played at least a few staple video game franchises in their childhood, but Nursey abandoned them kind of quickly in his attempts to “chill”, and Dex couldn’t really afford consoles as a kid, so he’s only really played them at someone else’s house or something. Chowder plays a bit of Zelda with them as witnesses, and they pass it off as “cool” and go on with their day. (Very reminiscent of a certain confession about someone dating a certain professional hockey player tbh)

Except they’re secretly fascinated by it. For different reasons. They sneak downstairs and swipe it to play for a few hours when they know everyone else is in class. Sure, they both know fuck-all about the plot, but they get the basic premise – walk around, explore, complete quests, kill monsters, stop Ganon – and that’s more than enough for them.

Dex loves it like he loves any good puzzle. An encampment of monsters hoarding a treasure chest to themselves? Obviously, it’s time to start a fire and ride the updraft it produces to get the drop on them. Enemy that’s way too big to take out one on one in a thunderstorm? Bait it with food and turn that sucker into a lightning rod by chucking something metal. Dex is all about this. (He does, however, wish you could repair equipment instead of passively watching it slowly get worn down.)

Nursey’s more into the exploration and the sights. He’s a hazard to himself, really. Chowder leaves off after the introductory tutorials and dungeons, and Nursey decides it’s a good idea to make a beeline for the castle swirling with black and purple clouds and a ravenous demon circling it. He dies. A lot. Until something pretty and glowing red calls his attention to the east, at which he point he turns his focus on it. And dies. Again. A lot. Even death in this game - in the form of crisp, deep red laser beams and soft blue, plush as hell explosions - is a thing to behold. There’s just too many beautiful sights and only four measly hearts to spare, but Nursey’s a trooper. Or a troubadour. Whatever. He perseveres.

And the game is great! What’s not great is the fact that, at least twice a week, the two of them have a similar gap between classes, and they are itching to play. They’ve only played individually though, and they’re probably not looking to share, until one day, Dex cracks and asks, “If I get the game for the first hour, you get it for the next, and we just trade off, okay?” Nursey’s indignant and puts on a front to make things difficult, even though it’s a pretty reasonable offer, but ultimately gives in. Dex returns with the Switch in his hands like a kid stealing a cookie from a cookie jar.

But playing/watching each other play is an exercise in restraint.

Dex wants to work through whatever obstacles and monsters are in his way and complete the main story, but Nursey keeps pointing out randomly glowing things off in the distance no less than twice a minute, and it drives Dex crazy. He blows himself up on his own explosives no less than twice the first time they do this. It’s hard to play while swatting Nursey’s grabby hands away from the screen. (He also gets his hands on some pretty swanky treasure and weaponry thanks to Nursey’s observational skills, but he doesn’t say anything about that.)

Nursey just wants to go climb those icy peaks with the three oddly conspicuous conifers all in a row at the top, or go wander deep into that forest with the monstrously large skeleton in the center as dusk falls, but Dex is just screaming at him and playing backseat Zelda player the whole time. “You can’t go up there. You don’t even have a jacket for the cold! You’re gonna die!” or “Exactly what part of traipsing over the corpse of a dead monster, in a forest where there’s nothing else but undead monsters, is a good idea, Nurse?” Nursey starts to listen after the (reanimated!) skeleton sits on him to death a few times. Dex gives him the idea to maybe wait until the sun comes up before approaching the thing again, and if Nursey waits until Dex isn’t in the room before he tries it, well, that’s just a coincidence. (A coincidence with some kick ass swords as a prize, but hey.)

The third week they do this, Nursey grabs the Switch first and tries to suggest something new. “Yo, instead of us just messing with each other and pissing each other off, maybe we can just, you know…” He waves a hand in between them, half-sure Dex is going to do that squinty thing with his eyes to tell Nursey he’s making no sense and say no.

“Yeah, I actually did some research on that skeleton that dropped its ass on you last time. It turns out it-”

“Wait, bro, are you saying yes to this?” A pause. “And did you seriously just call googling Zelda tips and tricks ‘research’?”

Dex goes red in the face, and Nursey’s almost sure he’s about to take back his tentative agreement until Dex, the dick that he is, makes a solid case for why they should be working together. “Look, the game rewards exploration, and you’ve clearly got some affinity for the type of shiny things game designers set up as bait, but none of the survival skills. We’ve got what the other lacks.” Nursey’s mouth splits into a shit-eating grin. “Just work with me, Nurse.”

Nursey turns his head up in mock reconsideration for a second before remembering he’s one who asked in the first place; he knows it’s fruitless to keep it up any longer. So, he just does what comes naturally and opens his mouth again. “Aw, Dexy, that’s probably the sweetest thing you’ve said to me this year.”

And so begin their new Zelda escapades, whereby Dex picks an objective related to the main quest, and Nursey points out things that might be worth checking out on the way to their destination. They still trade off every hour, but there’s a lot less dying, and a lot more sweet, sweet treasure.

Chowder gets back from class early one day, and considers giving himself some Switch time before he notices it’s not in the dock. He decides he’ll live and is about to turn down the hall to his room when he hears some very distinctive piano notes echoing weakly from the attic.

‘Those fakers,’ he thinks to himself. He creeps up the stairs and swings open the door at the top, a chirp on his lips when he sees them. The chirp dies on the spot.

They’re both conked out, and Dex is lying next to Nursey on the bottom bunk, his head most definitely resting on his shoulder. Nursey’s is resting on top of his, the Switch still in his hand by the floor of his bed.

Chowder just giggles and snaps a picture of them before turning back around and leaving.

(Blackmail, he decides, is an even better way to get Switch time.)

YouFood Roulette

Title: YouFood Roulette
Authors: @copperbadge and @scifigrl47
Rating: General Audiences
Summary: Steve and Tony get trapped in a foodie YouTube hole, but not before arguing about Tony’s definition of “medical attention”.
Notes: Set in Sam’s foodieverse with a cameo by DJ of Sci’s Botverse.
Warnings: Lots of talk of food, some of it kind of gross. 


“I’m Sam Wilson,” Sam said, beaming at the camera.

“And I’m Bucky Barnes,” Bucky added, not quite as naturally cheerful, but Steve could tell he always made an effort.

“And this,” Sam said, as if he was about to say the usual is Cheap Eats, but instead Bucky reached under the counter in front of them and lifted a laughing, squirming DJ up to shoulder-height.

“Is DJ’s Cheap Eats!” they chorused in unison.

“Yay!” DJ added, throwing his arms in the air.

“You realize we sent DJ out with two babysitters tonight, and we’re sitting home watching him on YouTube,” Tony said, curled up under Steve’s arm on the sofa.

Steve, a bowl of green-onion popcorn in his lap, turned his head to kiss Tony’s temple as the video played. “We hadn’t seen his video with Sam yet. Anyway, you miss him when he’s not around.”

“I won’t admit it.”

“He’s having a good time out with Sam and Bucky, just like he did for the video,” Steve pointed out.

“Thank God,” Tony said. “Where did they say they were going, anyway?”

“It’s a secret,” Steve told him, as the Cheap Eats opening animation ended.

“DJ is on loan to us from his dad, who’s a friend of the show,” Sam said. Bucky propped DJ on his hip, and DJ gave the camera an especially cute smile. “Because we know that often the people who need cheap, easy eats the most are the ones who are worried about providing healthy meals their kids will actually eat. So today DJ’s gonna help us make some really easy meals your kids will love.”

“Milk and anything in milk,” Tony sighed.

“Hey, I was a picky eater too, and I turned out okay,” Steve reminded him.

“You’re a supertaster.”

“And you know DJ has some sensory stuff going on.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony rubbed his face as Sam, in the video, started talking about how to select good breads from the grocery store and what to look for in a cold cut. “It’s not his problem, it’s mine.”

“It doesn’t have to be a problem at all.”

“I just hate that I can’t feed him better.”

Steve rested his chin on the top of Tony’s head. “You feed him fine. Look at him, he’s adorable.”

“The camera adds ten pounds.”

(There is a readmore below! Read more!)

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here’s some lance headcanons bc i have no sense of self control

  • watches youtube diy videos for things he’s absolutely not going to do
  • knows how to cook exactly three (3) meals
    • two of them are the same thing and one of them is coffee
  • decent at applying eyeliner but Ridiculously good at contouring
  • cutest hips on the team?? butt is debatable but best hips no argument 
  • there are no beauty products in space so he ends up making his own nail polish like three months in w/ the help of coran and a 3d printer
  • when he’s genuinely really sad he starts generating his own graviational field and everyone eventually forms a cuddle pile around him regardless of time or place
  • knows just enough about every Iconic™ pop culture movie to deflect questions and pretend that he’s seen them but is too embarrassed to admit he hasn’t actually sat down to watch some of them yet
    • has not watched a single spielberg movie. doesn’t actually know who steven spielberg is. it’s a tragedy
  • can quote every single line from the princess bride to the point of Absurdity 
    • there’s a copy of the script is logged into his head because it’s his go-to cry movie for some reason?? it’s not even that sad? lance. Lance,
  • would lay down his life for beyoncé. would probably hand over the position of blue paladin to beyoncé if she asked
  • likes pineapple pizza unironically and starts a war between everyone
    • has to explain to coran and allura the significance of siding with him and not these Heathens, these country rubes,
  • cries immediately when anyone starts yelling at him (+ pidge and hunk are Violently Protective whenever this happens and it spreads to the rest of them over time)
  • always has super cold hands and offers to put them on ur forehead when you’re overheating like a Sweetie
  • keeps asking to adopt every alien shorter than pidge
  • knows how to knit and stress-knits like a fucking Monster
    • those lion slippers might’ve come with the lions themselves but definitely makes more lion gear after every stressful encounter
  • used to take one a day vitacraves™ and thinks it’s ridiculous that the alteans don’t have an equivalent 
    • “what are you people. what are we as a culture without vitacrave gummies”
  • would rather eat his hands than interact with iverson ever again
  • just kinda. leans on hunk and expects to be picked up bridal-style 
    • keeps doing it to everyone until they learn that he won’t stop
    • he starts getting carried around by hunk or keith at any given moment and it turns into something endearing and comf ?? my boys
  • would lay down his life to listen to just one (1) pop song again like guys Please what does it take to get some nicki around here oh my god
  • asks pidge to install a radio in voltron so they can listen to orchestral action music while punching the shit out of misc debris
    • “how am i going to do that if i am in the robot, lance”
    • “you’ll find a way. i trust you”
  • there’s a douchebag jar
    • it’s not inherently mean or anything but he rolls his eyes and plonks a space credit into the jar every time he starts talking about marc jacobs 
  • zarkon: (shows up at the last minute)
  • lance: 
52 Stories in 52 Weeks // Week 4

Week 4: A story about three siblings
Stilinski Triplets AU (Teen Wolf x The Internship x The Maze Runner crossover)

Her brothers were the worst.

She decides that from a young age because she’s the only girl in a family dominated by men. And the men in her life felt the need to protect her very existence with each step she took.

Her father is the sheriff in Beacon Hills. The only daughter of a cop? Of course he would threaten any guy not related by blood with a .45 and a shovel if he got too cozy with her.

The eldest of her brothers is Stiles. Spaz extraordinaire, too smart for his own good, too sarcastic, and always brimming with comebacks. Other than their father, he’s the most protective of her. If somehow she managed to fly under his radar, he’d track her down easily, stalk her and her dates. If their father couldn’t threaten the guy, Stiles could with the family’s bat. Of course, the threats didn’t seem too impressive when it was Stiles.

Next was Stuart. Deadpan, sarcastic, forever on his phone. He was always the one to rat her out to the rest of the family. She couldn’t even have a burn phone because Stuart knew his technology and he knew her too well. If Stiles knew all of their dad’s passwords, Stuart knew hers. She had no privacy all thanks to him.

Finally, there was Thomas. He was the sweetest out of all her brothers, but still just as overprotective. He was the most athletic, mostly into track, which meant that if she tried to run, he’d easily catch up to her. While her father and other two brothers were hell bent on preserving her innocence, Thomas was the one who was focused on her well-being. He was always making sure she was okay, not catching a cold, adequately warm, that everything was in order before she graced something with her presence. If he wasn’t overprotective, he was just overbearing.

She loves her brothers because that’s undeniable. But as she stares at the scene in the kitchen, she hates them in that moment.

She had been doing a chemistry experiment with Liam for their class. She laid out eight glass jar caps on the island bar, each filled with a different powder and methanol. She and Liam were watching them burn a different color in awe, and the grin they flashed at each other was the first thing that Stiles saw.

And then proceeded to freak out.

Which pulled Thomas and Stuart into the room.

And caused Thomas to pull out the kitchen’s fire extinguisher (that she made their dad install due to one too many accidents) as Stiles tried to smother the flames with the blanket from the couch.

Now the blanket was black and charred, Liam somehow had a black eye, the extinguisher lay empty on the floor, Stuart was on the phone with the fire department, and her seething.

“I swear to god,” she growls. Her head whirls for the closest thing she can use as a weapon, and spots a frying pan on the stove. She holds it up for her brothers to see. “I’m going to kill the three of you.”

Stiles balks. “We were just protecting you!” he yells.

“From what?! A harmless science experiment?!”

“There were flames! You could have gotten seriously hurt!”

“The only one that got seriously hurt was Liam!” She gestures at her classmate’s grimacing face and the swell of purple that was slowly getting darker.

Stuart shrugs. “I have a video to prove that Liam put you in danger and deserved to be hit in the eye.” He holds up his phone. “I already called dad so he can take Liam’s statement in almost killing you.”

She circles the island bar with the frying pan in hand. They were twisting the story and making it more exaggerated the more they opened their mouth. “Stuart, give me your phone.”

“What? No!”

Thomas eyes her warily and nods when he catches Stiles’ eyes. He grabs her, shoving her away before hastily grabbing Stuart and running off. Stiles takes off in the other direction as Thomas yells out, “Run!”

She ends up running after Stiles, a murderous intent in mind.

They really were the worst.

anonymous asked:

If you really do think that Management or whoever fake the baby certificate and STILL forcing Louis and Harry to be closeted against their will, why don't you Larries actually do something to really help? Posting and reblogging stuff on tumblr is not it. Call the authorities. Actually do something y'know? I mean they fake a birth certificate, they could go to jail for that. Closeting them against their will, blackmailing are human's right issues. Hello?

I mean…I know I was just quoted in a magazine saying that I believe two closeted celebrities are communicating gay history to their fans through teddy bears, but you sound ridiculous. 

No one is going to jail for anything, okay? That’s not how this is going to play out because the people controlling it have a lot of money. If you want the source of the problem, follow the money as Deep Throat said in the film (but not actually in real life I found out the other week when I was watching an interview with Bernstein). 

This situation is unfortunate but not one that anyone is doing with a gun to their head. Whilst probably aggressively undesirable to everyone involved (besides the gold-digging™ women profiting from it), this is ultimately something that could have been avoided, but at a huge cost. 

Going back to our analysis of “What A Feeling” from yesterday, the lyrics are extremely important in the context of what’s happening right now.

If you believe, as I do, that there is a massive fucking piece of the puzzle missing here in terms of what the hell is happening behind the scenes then it’s important that you understand that “whatever change” is holding them back is something they believe in enough to be actively participating in these stunts. 

I do not log onto tumblr dot com every day to incite some kind of Gay Teddy Bear Revolution. Nor should people feel burdened with the task of “freeing” anyone. I don’t think anyone should feel any kind of self-importance in this matter because at the end of the day it does not come down to anyone but a couple of millionaire dudes who love each other trying to break free from another millionaire guy who is trying to ruin their careers. If they’ve got enough money to by a fuckin teddy bear a Rolex and an iPhone then I’m sure they have enough money to hire people who will properly advise them on what to do without anyone ratting out this sketchiness to the po po. 

And how would that conversation with the police go exactly? “Uh yeah, hi. Police? It’s me, a blogger from the world wide web. I just wanted to let you know that I have been analysing some badly photoshopped pictures of Louis Tomlinson and come to the conclusion that there is no way he put his p-bomb in a v-bomb and created a child so please go and arrest someone for falsifying a birth certificate and besmirching the good name of the Ventura County records office. Thank you, goodbye.” I don’t think so, pal.

I will blog about whatever the fuck I want to blog about be it Babygate, puppies or that hilarious video of the girl laughing at the article about a “satanic doll” that was actually Jar Jar Binks. 

Get off your fuckin high horse and wait it out like the rest of us. 

On Izetta and the impact of a scene

Ever since I first saw Izetta a single scene always stuck out in my mind. A scene that immediately grabs your attention and simultaneously makes you laugh and smile at Izetta and Finé’s antics and then brings you back down to the reality of their situation. However, the more I came back to the scene the more I realized just how well thought out and clever it was. It’s not even 2 minutes long but it manages to carry an overarching theme throughout: Izetta’s view of Finé and their relationship with each other. Everything that the scene does from its’s color composition to its camera movements, to its body language is set up to expand upon that theme.

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Monologues & Lines For Auditions


HAMILTON: In the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet. I wouldn’t know firsthand, as I’ve never been in the eye, just on the ever destructive outside. But they all say, you can Google it, that for just a moment, there’s silence and a yellow sky. The silence is suffocating, whether the hurricane is metaphorical or not. You know, when I was seventeen, a hurricane destroyed where I lived. And somehow, impossibly, I didn’t drown. I couldn’t quite seem to die, as odd as it sounds. I couldn’t stay any longer, so I wrote. A rather descriptive account of what happened in that horrid storm, a letter to my father, really. Eliza keeps it with her to read when she misses me. I remember all the horror and destruction I attempted to describe. It seemed as if a total dissolution of nature was taking place. The roaring of the sea and wind, fiery meteors hurtling in the air, the prodigious glare of lightning, the crash of the falling houses, and the ear-piercing shrieks of the distressed, were all sufficient to strike astonishment into Angels and fear into the hearts of the fearless. That’s almost a direct quote from the letter, for I can’t forget exactly how I got here. I just wrote all of it down, as much as I could bear, and when I looked up from papers and ink-stained fingers, the whole town had their eyes on me. They passed plates around, raising funds so I could leave. Their kindness is still astonishing to to this day– a group of total strangers who decided to help me because I wrote so eloquently. They raised enough for me to book passage on a ship that was heading to New York. I wrote my way out of a hell I thought I would have to live in for the rest of my life. I wrote my way to revolution, to being Washington’s aide de camp. I was louder than the crack in that goddamned bell. I got out of everything by using those passionate words that spilled out onto the page as though I’d tipped a jar of ink. I wrote Eliza love letters until she fell for me, wrote her pages upon pages of how she was constantly appearing in my dreams. I wrote about the Constitution that Burr refused to help with, fifty one essays of good defense. And in the face of straight up ignorance, I went to Eliza, and said, we’re going to have a financial system. And the next morning, after a night of writing, I gave Washington the plan for the banks. And when my prayers to God were unanswered, I picked up another damn pen, and I wrote my own deliverance!

HAMILTON: Sir, I don’t know what you heard, but whatever it is, Jefferson started it.
HAMILTON: There’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait.
HAMILTON: You’re an orphan. Of course! I’m an orphan!
HAMILTON: Sometimes I get overexcited, shoot off at the mouth.
HAMILTON: Hey, best of wives and best of women.
HAMILTON: Would you like to join us, or you could go back to doing whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello?
HAMILTON: My dearest, Angelica. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day. Certainly you understand my reference to another Scottish tragedy aside from myself, so I don’t have to name it? Well, I must admit, they do think me Macbeth, because we share the flaw of ambition, and I’m apparently a pain in the ass for Jefferson, or should I said Macduff.
HAMILTON: Angelica, tell my wife John Adams doesn’t have a real job anyways.
HAMILTON: Well, hate the sin, love the sinner, right?
HAMILTON: If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.
HAMILTON: I am not throwing away my shot!
HAMILTON: If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?


BURR: Love doesn’t pick its victims personally. It just consumes you whole, but we love anyways. And if there’s a reason I’m by her side while so many have tried and failed to make this work, I am willing to wait for it. I always wait for it. My grandfather was a fire and a brimstone preacher, but my thoughts don’t line up with his. There are so many things you can learn that all those hymns and homilies don’t teach you. My family…my mother was a genius, a composer of many manuscripts. My father commanded respect. He helped found Princeton University and was the first significant president of the college. When they died… they didn’t leave any instructions, or a how-to, or a guide to life. They just left a legacy behind that I need to protect. And just like love, death affects all. But we keep living, we rise, and we fall, and we make mistakes.(begins to get more agitated/upset) If there is any reason why I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died, then I am waiting for that reason. I can control that. I am the one thing in life I can actively control. I’m inimitable, an original… and no one gets that I am not behind in anything, I am never late. I’m running this race at the pace I want to go at. I’m not at any kind of standstill, I am lying in wait. But Hamilton… Alexander Hamilton.I know I always say ‘talk less’ and ‘smile more’, but I am beyond done with Hamilton.Here he is, facing this endless uphill climb, going so quickly like he has nothing to lose. And I don’t think he does. His pace is relentless. He doesn’t waste any time. Just like always, Alexander Hamilton is rushing past me with all these opportunities. It takes so much strength to tell myself to wait for it. My time will come soon. I can’t help but wonder… what is it like in his shoes?

BURR: And me? I’m the damn fool that shot him.
BURR: Talk less, smile more.
BURR: Hey, geniuses, lower your voices. Keep out of trouble and you’ll get even more opportunities.
BURR: I’m a trust fund, baby, you can trust me.
BURR: Now Lafayette, though we have our disagreements, you must admit we all do have one thing in common? We’re reliable with the ladies.
BURR: Here’s the pièce de résistance: no one else was in the room where it happened. No one else saw how the dirty deal was done. Think about it. You never really know how the game is played. You just assume that it happens, but you’re never in the room where it does.
BURR: Alexander Hamilton… what did they say to you to get you to sell New York City down the river? What, did Washington know about the deal? There was a presidential pressure to get it through?
BURR: The Schuyler sisters! You know, there is nothing like spending summers on the internet, but why aren’t you out in the city? Your clothing is impeccable, you clearly have money. So why slum it and make videos instead of coming out in the real world? Are you searching for the internet equivalent of a street rat to give you ideals?
BURR: How do you write like you’re running out of time? Are you running out of time?


KING GEORGE: Now, all you Americans say that the cost of my love is too high, and you aren’t willing to pay the price. But still, you lot cry into your tea when you watch me go by, you bunch of Anglophiles. By the way, it was totally rude when you chucked it into the ocean. Sure, you were upset, but that was uncalled for. But still, why so upset? Don’t you remember the arrangement we made when you went away? Now you’re making me mad! Please, remember despite our distance, I’m your guy. You’ll be back eventually. You’ll see soon enough that you still belong to me. You’ll remember how well I served you! We’ve stuck together throughout everything. And when push comes to shove, I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love for you! (hums a bit of the da da da’s from the song) You know it’s bullshit, right? You whine and cry about how our love is draining and you simply can’t go forwards! I promise you, you’ll be the one complaining when I am gone. But don’t you dare change the subject, cause you’re truly my favourite subject. You’re sweet, submissive… my favourite, loyal, little peasants, with me forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever… and you can’t deny that you’ll come crawling back to me, just like last time. I’ll fight the fight and win the war… for your love and praise, of course, what else? I’ll love you until I die! And when you’re gone, I’ll go mad. So pretty please with a cherry on top don’t just throw away this thing between us. And once again… when, not if, push comes to shove, I will slaughter your friends and family in cold blood to remind you of how much I love you! (begins to hum/lowkey sing the da, da, da’s from you’ll be back)Everyone’s with me now… or at least, you will be! (starts to hum again)


ELIZA: Hi, I, uh, don’t really know how to work this thing. Could I sound anymore cliche?. I mean, it is Angelica’s after all, and I really shouldn’t  be touching it. But it doesn’t matter, for now at least. She’s not here, she’s out somewhere with Thomas Jefferson trying to convince him to include women in the sequel, still have no clue what that means… and was I supposed to say that?  I don’t really think I should be recklessly announcing her plans, but she’ll probably have a new one next week so I guess no harm, no foul. Nothing against Ang, she’s my sister and I love her with every last piece of me, but sometimes, sometimes I feel like she’s always striving for something new, like nothing is ever enough and it never will be. While I, on the other hand, have finally found my enough. Well, I shouldn’t get too ahead of myself, it’s the person who I think can someday, somehow, somewhere could possibly be my enough. And that’s what, more like who, this video is about. Alexander Hamilton. Now, I know what you’re thinking, that he’s just some poor little orphan boy, trying to fight his way through the war just to make a name for himself. Well, though that isn’t entirely wrong, he’s also so much more. More than I could even explain. Just, well, the next time you have the chance to see him, look into his eyes, it’ll answer everything. They’re so deep, filled to the brim with endless dreams, you could drown in them, get lost in them, build an entirely new world in them. To him it seems that not even the sky’s the limit, because there isn’t anything he wouldn’t, or should I say, couldn’t do. And god, when I’m around him I can’t help but feel, well, helpless. But in a good way, well as good as helpless can get. My knees turn to jelly, acrobats take over my stomach and my heart races. I’ve only met him once and though Angelica doesn’t seem to believe in love at first sight and Peggy sticks to flirting even though she’s far too young to, I really think he could be the one. That night, it was like a page out of a fairy tale book. The Winter’s Ball, or what Angelica like to call it, a revel with a few too many rebels.

ELIZA: No. No more excuses, Alexander. For once in your life, can you just look around and put everyone and everything else out of your mind? Can you just realize how lucky we are? To be alive. To be in love. To be having a child, a son, our son. Shouldn’t that be enough?
ELIZA: Angelica, tell this man John Adams spends the summer with his family.
ELIZA: That was amazing, Angelica. I would say screw the revolution also, but, history is happening now. Just look at what you’re doing, look around at what’s happening in Manhattan! We’re so lucky to be alive right now, and I’m so glad I was alive to hear you tell him off.
ELIZA: Why do you write like you’re running out of time? Come back to bed, Alexander. That would be enough.
ELIZA: You and your words. You were always so obsessed with your legacy to the point where you weren’t making sense anymore. Paranoid in every paragraph on how the public percieved you, because that’s all you ever cared about.
ELIZA: Just for you to let me in. For real this time. We’re about to start a family and I need to know that you’re leaving more than just a chapter for me in the narrative we know they’ll write about you someday. I just want to finally have an idea of what’s really going on in your mind. That’d be enough for me.


ANGELICA: (notebook and pen in hand)
There has to be something here. (flips through, before pauses on a page), Well not this, (flips page pausing again) or that. Too cheesy, too dry, what was I even thinking? (continues to flip) Too funny, not funny enough, not funny at all, no, no and no (flips to a new page). Looks like I’m starting from scratch, again (begins to write). To the groom, to the bride. From, me, who has absolutely no clue on how to write a wedding toast. (tears out page crumpling it and throwing it) Wow. Angelica Schuyler has no clue how to do something, that’s a first. (looks up) And even better she’s recording this monumental moment, while talking in third person.It’s not that I can’t write. I write a lot and well, not like Alexander, but if I’m being serious, no one’s anywhere near Alexander’s level, much less pace when it come to words. I mean these drafts aren’t even that horrible, they’re just, not perfect. Which the toast needs to be and I will make sure of it, because this,  this needs to be the perfect toast for the perfect couple, who will have the perfect wedding and the perfect love story. One to go down in history. Because, if you haven’t heard, Alexander and Eliza are getting married a week, a week from well, now. Which leaves me with exactly 168 hours to put together that perfect wedding speech, because I, Angelica Schuyler, am the maid of honour. And Alexander, boy, he already left utterly large shoes to fill after proposing in the most  perfect way. How he manages to step up in every aspect of his life, I don’t understand, he’s even moved from one Schuyler sister to another, in a single night.. I know Eliza’s already accidently told the whole world about our night at the winter’s ball, but like we all know there are two sides to every story, and if she ever were to hear mine - she can’t, that’s all. And she won’t.

ANGELICA: I’m just saying, if you really loved me you would share him.
ANGELICA: In a letter I received from you two weeks ago, I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase. It changed the meaning. Did you intend this? God, one stroke and you’ve consumed all my waking hours.
ANGELICA: Three reasons. Number one: it would look super suspicious to Dad if all three of us were clustered in one room. Number two: aesthetic. Number three: I don’t want you in my room.
ANGELICA: Yes, but there are so many new ideas in the air! We can make this country greater than it’s ever been before. We can have equality for everyone! Just look around at what’s happening! Look around for these people that can change the world!


WASHINGTON: Alexander, there’s a genuine reason I haven’t given you a command yet. It’s not because I enjoy playing cat and mouse with you and constantly finding you writing endless rants about the people I chose instead. It’s not that you aren’t smart enough, not capable of doing so, or that I don’t believe in you. I put all of my faith in you when I first hired you,  Alexander, and I know that you know that, it’s just coming from fear. The only way to put it is that you remind me a lot of me when I was just younger. I wasn’t lying when I said I felt the same way as you did when you first came knocking on my door. My head was always filled with fantasies of dying like a martyr, like yours is. But I also wasn’t lying when I said dying is far easier than living. I thought you would figure that out with time, but it was rather foolish of me to believe that. The point of this, Alexander, is that I was only a bit younger than you when I was given my first command. May 24th, years ago, was when I lead my men straight into a massacre. We attacked a party of French soldiers. Killed ten. Though only now I realize how small that number is. They weren’t the only ones killed, some of my men died on the same soil they did, and it was all because of me. I was so blinded by the fact that I was finally being put into command, that in the meantime I made every mistake. I learned I had no control in who lives, who died, and who tells your story. With every mistake I made, the shame began to rise in me, the excitement replaced with fear and regret, because in that moment in time I realized history had it eyes on me. It was ready to trace every step, every decision, and every right and wrong that was ahead of me. It was ready to put my name down in the textbooks and have children dissect everything I did from that day on. That was when I realized that there was no turning back. I was far past the point of no return and had to either choose a position of power or forever be remembered as the one who wasted away. On that day I thought I was ready for battle, but I wasn’t. I had finally realised it was time for me to rise up and take the lead. I had to let my walls down and put the country and it’s people in front of me. I couldn’t make decisions for me but for them, because I had hundreds of people relying on me, a scared man with the blood of angry soldiers on his hands, who laid awake at night planning his days and regretting the past ones. That’s why I shielded you, Alexander, because I didn’t want you to become that man. I can’t protect you anymore, because then you’ll never be ready. The only way to truly learn is from experience. The troops are waiting in the field for you, Alexander, and if you choose to accept, from this day onward, history will have its eyes on you. It will be by your side everyday, analyzing your every move and mistake. But for now the pen is in your hand and you are writing your own history. For now you are writing your own story to be left on this very earth for as long as it lives. Remember, from here on in, the world is watching you and every single thing you do.

WASHINGTON: Frankly, it’s a little unnerving that you would let your ideals blind to you reality. Hamilton, if you could please start drafting a statement?WASHINGTON: I want to warn against partisan fighting… come on, pick up a pen, write it all down.
WASHINGTON: The people are asking me to lead. I’m doing the best I can to get everyone I need onboard, but I need to ask you— will you be my right hand man again? I know it’s a lot to ask to leave behind the world you’ve always known.


LAFAYETTE: The unrest in France will lead to onarchy. Onarchy? How you say? How’s ou say, anarchy!
LAFAYETTE: Et il dit qu'il est pas l'ami qui est comme une mère.
LAFAYETTE: What you’re missing is that the, in your terms, “shitty dude” was a minion of King George III, and he said that King George would come for you. LAFAYETTE: Femme la bouche, and watch it.
LAFAYETTE: As the kids say, let’s be real. No one bounces back as quickly or is such a practical and brilliant strategist as Hamilton, oui?
LAFAYETTE: Well, Alexander, don’t you think everyone deserves their five minutes of fame?
LAFAYETTE: I’m Lafayette, America’s favourite fighting frenchman, here with your favourite bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a scotsman… and a turtle lover.
LAFAYETTE: What happened to honesty being valued?
LAFAYETTE: Why is Burr here, again?
LAFAYETTE: You are the worst, Burr.


LAURENS: But we’ll never be truly free until those in bondage are equal to us! It’s do or die, just wait until I come over leading the first black battalion!
LAURENS: Look, when you’re living on your knees you rise up. It’s all you can do. So tell your brother that he’s gotta rise up, and tell your sister that she’s gotta rise up. When are these colonies gonna rise up?
LAURENS: I’m not your mom. If anything, Hercules is the mom friend.
LAURENS: Did you actually fall asleep at your computer though? Again?
LAURENS: Yeah. Last time, he had drafted a letter to me telling me he was going to buy me a turtle to proclaim his love, and when he fell asleep, his head hit the send button. And then, his friend Ned told me about the time he sent Congress twenty seven emails within an hour about the financial system of America, and the last one was a bunch of jumbled letters from when his head fell on the keyboard.
LAURENS: Raise a glass to freedom, cause they won’t ever take that away!
LAURENS: What can I say, man, I like turtles.
LAURENS: Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton College!
LAURENS: The revolution’s imminent, Burr, what do you stall for?


HERC: Tear this dude into pieces.
HERC: I am not the mom friend, I am the party friend. I just like making sure you guys are okay and that Alex here doesn’t mess up his neck.
HERC: Wait, again? He’s done this before? You’re going to give yourself arthritis!
HERC: Do you realize the amount of dirty jokes I could make right now?
HERC: Hercules Mulligan, baby. You knock me down, I get the fuck back up again.
HERC: You must admit he does have a point, I mean there are just so many to deflower.
HERC: Just shut up and listen to Laf.
HERC: Sarcasm, such a beautiful form a self defense.  
HERC: Ohhhh our boy’s in love!

Bestest Friend || Jack

Jack masterpost found here

Word count - 1,152

Summary - The one with Jack’s special princess.


Jack always did say he’d be the first one to settle down and have kids. He once said in a video with Mikey and Conor that he’d “find love” before the others did. At first it was a joke, but once he said it, the idea of getting married and starting a family appealed to him more and more. 21 at the time, he knew he still had a lot of growing up to do, but he began to wonder if looking for a serious girlfriend was more important than hooking up with a random every night he went out with the boys.

True to his word, Jack got married before any of the other members of the buttercream squad. He found love and settled down quickly before it slipped through his fingertips. Soon after getting married to you, you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.

Now, seven years later, you had a seven year old girl and a five year old boy, and you and Jack didn’t think life could get any better. Your children were well behaved, beautiful, and full of kind hearts. You were so proud of them and happy that you and Jack had raised them right. At only seven years old, your daughter Lliy already knew that it is more important to be kind and smart than it is to be beautiful. At five, your son Aaron knew that boys and girls should always be treated equally and that picking on a girl shouldn’t be how you show them you like them. You were raising two incredibly genuine children.

One day, you were arriving home from work. It was nearly 5:30 in the evening, meaning you’d have to get home and start dinner right away if you wanted it to be ready at a reasonable time. You had a simple office job. You worked in a cubicle and filed paperwork all day, answering phone calls and typing up important documents. It wasn’t a fun job, but it helped you and Jack pay the bills, and that was all that mattered to you. You entered the house, pulling your bag up to your shoulder and blowing some hair out of your face. “I’m home!” you called. When no one answered, you walked further into the house.

There in the kitchen was Jack and your two kids. They were all wearing their aprons as they cooked dinner. Lily and Aaron were on the counter top and Jack was standing beside them. “Mommy!” Lily cheered. “We’re making pizza!”

“Pizza?” you laughed, slipping off your shoes.

“Big pizzas!” Aaron said, extending the word big and stretching out his arms.

“It was my idea, Mommy,” Lily said proudly. “Daddy said we should make dinner because you work really hard all day. And I know you like pizza, so I said we should make pizza. You do like pizza, don’t you?”

“Of course, darling,” you said with a smile, walking over to them to place kisses to their foreheads. “This is lovely. Thank you so much.”

The kitchen was a bit of a mess. There was flour from the dough making all over the place and cans of tomato sauce were dripping onto the counter top. Somehow, you hardly minded at all. You turned to Jack and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” you said to him.

“That’s okay,” he smiled back. Before you could step away, he pulled you in for a short kiss on the lips which made Lily giggle foolishly. Just when you turned to look at her, a puff of flour was blown in your face. You turned to Aaron who had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Aaron Michael!” you said, trying to be stern but failing miserably. Lily, seeing what her brother had done, snatched a handful of flour from the jar and threw it at you and Jack.

“Oh no,” Jack said. “Is this a flour attack?”

Before you knew what was happening, your husband was helping your children fling flour at you. “No!” you laughed, holding your hands over your face. “You’re making a mess of the kitchen!”

Once you all cleaned up and put the pizzas in the oven, you all waited quite impatiently for them to get done. After eating around the table as a family, you and Jack gave Lily and Aaron a bath, put them in their pajamas, and decided to sit around and watch a film. Lily’s favorite thing to do was lay out big blankets and pillows on the floor and to have all of you sit in front of the TV to watch the film. So, that’s what you did as you sat and watched Zootopia together.

It was almost 8:00 and the movie was nearly done. Aaron was sitting on your lap but had fallen asleep ages ago. His lips were parted and one of his hands was grabbing at your fingers. You smiled down at him, brushing some of his dirty blonde hair away from his face, thinking to yourself how much he looked like Jack. When you looked up at Jack, he was leaning his back up against the couch. Lily was laying on him, her head on his chest and the rest of her body resting on his legs. She too appeared sound asleep. Jack was looking down at her fondly, rubbing small circles on her back. When he looked up at you, he smiled. “She’s not allowed to grow up,” he said. “I want her to stay like this forever.” He paused and his smile faltered a bit as he added, “Someday she’s going to hate me, but I always want her to be daddy’s little girl.”

You smiled at Jack and brushed your fingers through his hair. He looked at you, regaining a small smile on his face. “She’s never going to hate you,” you told him.

“Daughters always grow up to hate their dads,” he said, bringing his eyes back to the sleeping Lily on his lap. “They get distant and they crush on boys and they realize they don’t need daddy anymore.”

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding his face and urging him to look at you. “She is always going to need you. You’re her favorite person on the whole planet. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

Lily suddenly stirred and her eyes fluttered open, only halfway though as she was too tired to keep them open all the way. She let out a yawn, then said, “It’s true, daddy. You’re always, always going to be my most bestest friend.” You and Jack both smiled at Lily. She grabbed Jack’s chin in her pudgy hands and pulled his head down to hers. Then, she placed a small kiss on his cheek. “I love you, daddy,” she said before cuddling up to his chest and closing her eyes again.

Jack smiled, “I love you too, princess.”

Need You - Jack Maynard Imagine

Requested: Hi there! Could you write one where Y/N is a very stubborn and independent woman (does everything by herself, even stuff like carrying heavy things etc., doesn’t really need anyone’s help) and Jack always wants to help, but Y/N just politely says there’s no need to, so finally he says that it’s his job as a boyfriend to help with stuff like that and she finally agrees? Not in a mean way, just a sweet banter :)

A/N: Okay so I saw so much of myself in this character that I ended up basically writing something super personal and meaningful to me. It’s not really the banter you asked for but hopefully you still like it!

Warnings: Anxiety, panic attacks (kinda?)

“Do you need help with that?” Jack asked from his spot at the table. He’d been watching you in the kitchen, struggling to open a jar of pasta sauce for the past minute.

“No thanks, I got it.” You said politely, although it came out a little forced as you were throwing all your strength into twisting open the lid, but it still didn’t budge.

“Are you sure?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Really, I got it!” You said, moving on to plan B. You ran some hot water over the lid and pulled out a towel to add some friction. Taking a deep breath, you twisted the lid with all your strength until you heard a small *pop*. “See?”

Jack laughed at your proud expression. You were incredibly stubborn but it was one of the things he loved about you. He knew you’d try literally everything before asking for help, which sometimes led to trouble. You’d once needed to film a video using Jack’s equipment instead of your own and you were unfamiliar with his microphone. You spent an hour fiddling with the thing instead of just calling up your own boyfriend to ask for help. But in the end, you always figured out some way to make things work on your own. You were truly the most independent person he’d ever met.

That night, you and all the boys went out to a club to celebrate Joe’s birthday. You were having a great time, the club was extravagant and the drinks were super fancy. You had just stepped off the dance floor to get a new drink when you checked your phone and saw a text from your best friend.

“Just a heads up, I think Max is headed to the same club as you tonight…”

Max was your ex-boyfriend and your friend was still dating one of his housemates so she knew where he would be tonight. You checked the time stamp. 10:22pm. Twenty minutes ago. He was probably already here.

“Oh no…” You replied.

“Yeah I think he wants to try and talk to you.”

You’d had a particularly nasty break up with Max. Well, it wasn’t so much the break up that was nasty, more the relationship as a whole. He had been incredibly emotionally manipulative, and after the break up, you’d found out he’d been cheating as well. You were happy to be out of that toxic relationship and with Jack now, but you were still dealing with anxiety over what had happened. Of course, like everything else in your life, you were dealing with it on your own, and you hadn’t even told Jack about it. Besides, it had never been bad enough to actually affect your relationship.

After reading the text, you could feel your heart rate start to quicken at the thought of Max trying to confront you. You were determined not to let this ruin your night though, especially not on Joe’s birthday, so you took a few deep breaths, your eyes scanning the club. You didn’t see Max anywhere, so you told yourself you were just overreacting and made your way back through the crowd to Jack. When you got to him, you started dancing again, but you couldn’t take your mind off Max, and you kept on the look out for him.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” Jack asked, noticing your eyes darting around the club every few seconds.

“Yeah I’m fine!” You said to Jack. As long as Max doesn’t show up, you thought to yourself.

As if right on cue, you spotted his piercing blue eyes, staring right back at you. Your immediate reaction was to run but you wanted to be strong. You could handle a little bit of anxiety, no problem! Just like with the jar and the microphone, you’d pull yourself together and deal with it.

But you couldn’t really focus on your dancing anymore and you were suddenly finding it hard to breathe. You couldn’t understand where all this anxiety was coming from. This was literally someone you’d spent a year and a half of your life with and now the sight of him had you in a complete panic. But that’s the thing about anxiety. It doesn’t make sense. Max began to make his way over to you and your heart stopped.

“I have to leave,” You blurted out to Jack and turned towards the exit. You don’t really remember what Jack did or yourself leaving the club, just the overwhelming feeling of being trapped and needing to get out. Your vision was tunneling and you noticed the sweat on your hands the second you gripped the door handle, twisting it open as you practically fell out of the club.

“Y/N, what’s going on?!” You hadn’t noticed but Jack had been right behind you the whole time. He was now standing in front of you, looking possibly as terrified as you did as you propped yourself up against the wall of the club.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You replied, trying to shake off the panic, but your voice still quivered.

“No, you’re clearly not,” Jack said sternly. “You looked like you were about to have a panic attack in there. And you’re shaking!” He put his hands on your shoulders to try to calm you down.

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to explain things somehow.

“Max came out to the club tonight. Apparently he wanted to talk to me and… I don’t know, I’ve just been dealing with a lot of anxiety about that whole thing, I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” Jack asked, but he wasn’t angry, just upset because he couldn’t protect you from something he didn’t even know about.

“I thought I could deal with it on my own so I didn’t want to ask for help.” You explained, just as you had so many times before but the difference was those were all problems you could handle yourself.

“Y/N,” Jack said, taking your hands in his and holding them tight to stop your shaking. “It’s okay to ask for help. I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to help you with things like this.”

You avoided looking at Jack, still uncomfortable with the idea of actually needing someone else.

“Okay?” Jack said, ducking his head down so you had to look into his eyes.

You watched him, his beautiful blue eyes so different from the ones that had caused your panic only moments ago. Looking into Jack’s eyes reminded you of the ocean and you finally felt calm again.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath as Jack pulled you into a hug. You rested your head on his chest, feeling the fatigue of the past few minutes, and although there was vulnerability in needing someone else, you knew that with Jack, there would also always be comfort.

A/N: I tried really hard to make sure I wasn’t just romanticizing anxiety in this one! I think the reason I wrote it was partly for myself but partly to remind y'all that it is okay to ask for help when it comes to these things. And I’m always here if you want to talk!!

Sleepy Movie Nights (Phan OneShot)

Word Count: 1626

Type: Fluff, getting together, friends to lovers

Description: Dan and Phil need a movie night in and maybe just maybe, it’ll be different this time.

A/N: I started writing this as something else but it didn’t work so I cut that part out. I also am warning you, this might make you sleepy.


Dan had been editing for hours, trying to get the video done and up as it had been a while since he had last posted on his own channel. He’d just tweeted out the link and reblogged it on tumblr, finishing up for the day. Dan got out of bed, back aching from lying on it for far too long. Dan yawned squinting his eyes shut, pushing his hands above his head, stretching out his tight joints. He heard his door open, making him open his eyes to see Phil stood in his cookie monster pjs with his grey playlist live shirt on, getting comfortable for a night in. Phil smiled as he saw his best friend being all cute and tired. Dan smiled back, looking at his handsome housemate’s eyes, glad to see him in pjs rather than jeans, possibly wanting to go grab something for dinner.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a movie night.” Phil asked leaning against the now open door frame. Dan had to admit that Phil looked very attractive leaning on the door like that, but Dan knew that it’d never happen, nothing was going to change between them, much to Dan’s discontent. Dan beamed at Phil however, liking the prospect of cuddles for a few hours. Because in all honesty, these nights were more about cuddling then the movies, to both of them.

“Sure yeah let me get into my pjs, I’ll be right out.” Dan said turning around to get a pair of long pj bottoms and a black t-shirt that was used for lounging. Phil stood for a moment longer, watching as Dan went to his drawer to get some pjs. Phil would never admit to his slight, okay huge, crush on his best friend. He’d also never admit to hoping that tonight it would be different. Phil quickly darted away from the door frame before Dan could see him creepily watching him and his actions.

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but me, i’d rather be with you [bnha fic]


“I think we should try it.”

“…What?” Midoriya’s staring at him like a deer in headlights, slightly crumpled newspaper front page still clutched in his fist, and if Todoroki leans over he can read the headline: Former #1 Hero All Might and #2 Hero Endeavor Prodigé’s Secret Romance?!

“A date.” Todoroki says, more calmly and collected than he thought was humanly possible.

(or, in which Todoroki learns a little bit about his friends, himself, and his long time crush on Midoriya Izuku, not necessarily in that order)

read @ ao3 here 

(it’s over 28k, so just the first scene is here on tumbles!)

It all starts with one phone call, a crooked tie, and a misunderstood bouquet of flowers.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Dan teases Phil by walking around the apartment in just his t-shirt and lace panties

alright lil anon so hi my name is griffin and i will be ur server this evening we got a lovely lil sample platter of sin drabbles lined up for u here 2day!! we’ve got domestic af, kinky but cute, and p fuckin kinky enjoy ur reading! if i can be of service in any other way do not hesitate to call

*ps ur gonna wanna open this on ur desktop or using ur phone’s browser bc apparently mobile’s a lil shite so yeah just sayin*

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