try saying that five times in a row

Hold Back The River (Roman Reigns x Reader)

Context: Reader is best friends with Roman, traveling with him and valeting him to the ring. The two were inseparable. What happens when everything changes?

**A/N: ** Shout-out to @lclb13 because this fic is written based on a request from her imagination. I made this as true to the request as possible. Protective Roman is pretty cute. The song choice for this one: “Hold Back the River” by James Bay.

**S/B: ** Check out @thiickreigns for version two!


Originally posted by vaniwin

 **Tags: **@the-geekgoddes ; @caramara3 ; @lavitabella87 ; @m-a-t-91 ; @thiickreigns ; @kalliravenne ; @m-a-t-91 ; @crookedmoonsaultpunk ; @squirrel666 , @livingthestrongstyle   {anyone who I’ve tagged in other Roman fics got a tag in this one! Hope y’all don’t mind}

“Tried to keep you close to me

But life got in between

Tried to square not being there        

But think that I should have been…”

           It was a long day, a really long and tiring day. The flights, the interviews, the training: long, tedious and tiring and all I wanted to do was go back to the hotel and sleep. Instead, I was here in Orlando, Florida, sitting quietly in the stands of the arena an hour and a half before Monday night Raw began.

           “Hey, baby girl. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

          Roman’s deep, soothing voice from behind my row of seats caused me to jump up in shear surprise. I turned around with a scowl planted firmly on my face, trying my best not to smile at his apologizing pout. We’ve been best friends since we started out in NXT five years earlier. Now, we worked together for the same company and traveled together all the time. When I say I loved this adorable Samoan to death, I truly meant it.

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Did you practice today? Comment with 🙏 if you did. 💗
Day 12 is Tiryang Mukhaikapada Paschimattanasana. Try to say that five times in a row and you’ll have a mouth film of Sanskrit. While it might seem hard to see the benefits of this pose at first, the internal rotation of the hips helps release the sacrum and encourages a hollowing out of the pelvic bowl. The forward fold deepens the hip crease and facilitates entry into more challenging twists. But more than anything this asana is about imperfection because you rarely feel perfectly balanced. Don’t try and force it, just do your best and accept what is.
For more in-depth anatomical technique, join my all-new 16 class course on Immerse yourself in the Ashtanga Yoga method. Link in bio to sign up. Be sure to tag me and @omstarsofficial in all your posts. Remember to like and comment on eachother’s post so that we support eachother and create a virtual sangha.
#practiceandalliscoming 🙏 (at Miami Beach, Florida)

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just wanna get your attention


Excerpt: “Hey?” the boy asks, looking a bit confused, his brows pinching together under the feathery shield of his fringe, and Phil’s words fly out of his mouth without the least bit of permission.

“You look cold. Want to come home with me?”

“I―okay,” the boy says, sounding as if he’s never received a word of kindness in his life, and Phil’s heart skips a beat.

Based on this prompt. Title from Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) by Usher.

Beta: unbeta’d

Word count: 2581

Warnings: mentions of prostitution

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What Happened to Us? (Mark)

Submitted by @5months.

This won 1st place in the angst category.

GENRE: Angst, some Fluff
1,062 words

“Tell me what you want.”

You felt your chest tighten as you searched his eyes for the answer he wanted. What combination of words would lead to the outcome where you’re still together? What could you possibly say to make him miss you the way you missed him?

Those five words had a lot of history between the two of you. As you stood there trying to blink your tears away, your thoughts flashed back to the first time he ever said it to you.

“Tell me what you want,” you could hear his smile as he whispered into your ear. You looked up at him, his eyes glittering with excitement. His eagerness made your cheeks feel warm as you eyed the row of prizes. You didn’t think he’d win the balloon pop game, but he was so adamant about getting you something on your first date; when he won, that wide grin spread over his lips and you couldn’t help but swell with pride, thinking “Yeah, this is my boyfriend.”

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anonymous asked:

What if men has periods? These are the questions that keep me up at night

If Men Could Menstruate

by Gloria Steinem

A white minority of the world has spent centuries conning us into thinking that a white skin makes people superior - even though the only thing it really does is make them more subject to ultraviolet rays and to wrinkles. Male human beings have built whole cultures around the idea that penis envy is “natural” to women - though having such an unprotected organ might be said to make men vulnerable, and the power to give birth makes womb envy at least as logical.

In short, the characteristics of the powerful, whatever they may be, are thought to be better than the characteristics of the powerless - and logic has nothing to do with it.

What would happen, for instance, if suddenly, magically, men could menstruate and women could not?

The answer is clear - menstruation would become an enviable, boast-worthy, masculine event:

Men would brag about how long and how much.

Boys would mark the onset of menses, that longed-for proof of manhood, with religious ritual and stag parties.

Congress would fund a National Institute of Dysmenorrhea to help stamp out monthly discomforts.

Sanitary supplies would be federally funded and free. (Of course, some men would still pay for the prestige of commercial brands such as John Wayne Tampons, Muhammad Ali’s Rope-a-dope Pads, Joe Namath Jock Shields - “For Those Light Bachelor Days,” and Robert “Baretta” Blake Maxi-Pads.)

Military men, right-wing politicians, and religious fundamentalists would cite menstruation (“men-struation”) as proof that only men could serve in the Army (“you have to give blood to take blood”), occupy political office (“can women be aggressive without that steadfast cycle governed by the planet Mars?”), be priest and ministers (“how could a woman give her blood for our sins?”) or rabbis (“without the monthly loss of impurities, women remain unclean”).

Male radicals, left-wing politicians, mystics, however, would insist that women are equal, just different, and that any woman could enter their ranks if she were willing to self-inflict a major wound every month (“you MUST give blood for the revolution”), recognize the preeminence of menstrual issues, or subordinate her selfness to all men in their Cycle of Enlightenment. Street guys would brag (“I’m a three pad man”) or answer praise from a buddy (“Man, you lookin’ good!”) by giving fives and saying, “Yeah, man, I’m on the rag!” TV shows would treat the subject at length. (“Happy Days”: Richie and Potsie try to convince Fonzie that he is still “The Fonz,” though he has missed two periods in a row.) So would newspapers. (SHARK SCARE THREATENS MENSTRUATING MEN. JUDGE CITES MONTHLY STRESS IN PARDONING RAPIST.) And movies. (Newman and Redford in “Blood Brothers”!)

Men would convince women that intercourse was more pleasurable at “that time of the month.” Lesbians would be said to fear blood and therefore life itself - though probably only because they needed a good menstruating man.

Of course, male intellectuals would offer the most moral and logical arguments. How could a woman master any discipline that demanded a sense of time, space, mathematics, or measurement, for instance, without that in-built gift for measuring the cycles of the moon and planets - and thus for measuring anything at all? In the rarefied fields of philosophy and religion, could women compensate for missing the rhythm of the universe? Or for their lack of symbolic death-and-resurrection every month?

Liberal males in every field would try to be kind: the fact that “these people” have no gift for measuring life or connecting to the universe, the liberals would explain, should be punishment enough.

And how would women be trained to react? One can imagine traditional women agreeing to all arguments with a staunch and smiling masochism. (“The ERA would force housewives to wound themselves every month”: Phyllis Schlafly. “Your husband’s blood is as sacred as that of Jesus - and so sexy, too!”: Marabel Morgan.) Reformers and Queen Bees would try to imitate men, and pretend to have a monthly cycle.
All feminists would explain endlessly that men, too, needed to be liberated from the false idea of Martian aggressiveness, just as women needed to escape the bonds of menses envy. Radical feminist would add that the oppression of the nonmenstrual was the pattern for all other oppressions (“Vampires were our first freedom fighters!”) Cultural feminists would develop a bloodless imagery in art and literature. Socialist feminists would insist that only under capitalism would men be able to monopolize menstrual blood … 

In fact, if men could menstruate, the power justifications could probably go on forever.

If we let them.


Keepsakes - Egobang/ @keenveins Porn!Dan AU (this is before Arin finds out about the whole porn thing, but there’s an allusion to it so go read her fic after this and be in awe at how great it is)

Arin can never seem to keep his eyes off of Dan for longer than a few moments. There’s just something about his body - the way his shirts always find a way to creep up just a little to show the tanned belly underneath, the way his pants always sit just low enough to show the waistband of his boxers, the way his hands move when handling the game controllers - that just drives him up the wall. So when Arin is playing a Mario Maker level for the seventeenth time in a row, and Dan leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he can’t help but notice how Dan’s shirt rides up just a little more than usual, exposing a thick line of smooth skin and the navy blue waistband of his boxers.

“Ar, are you ok dude?”

Arin looks up from Dan’s side, only just then realizing what had happened. He was so entranced by the flash of Dan’s skin that he totally ignored the game and just died again. He tries to look at Dan, who was raising an eyebrow in his direction, but he couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Nah man, I’m all good. Just got a little distracted is all. You wanna give it a shot?”

Arin holds out the controller and Dan accepts it with a sigh, shaking his head and returning back to his hunched position. Arin is able to focus on the game for roughly two seconds before his eyes drift back to Dan. He could tell that Dan has been working out, his arms looking more toned than skinny. His eyes follow the curvature of Dan’s back, admiring the way his shirt fit - just a little too tightly. His eyes finally reach his lower back, and he has to hold himself back with everything he has, because all he wants to do is reach out and touch him, caress him, slide his hands up and under Dan’s shirt and feel him all over, feel the warmth of his skin on his finger-

“A picture’ll last way longer, you know.”

Dan’s voice interrupts Arin’s train of thought, breaking him out of the daze he was in. How long had he been staring at Dan? And more importantly, how long had Dan noticed that he was staring?

“Oh sorry dude I was just, uh -”

Arin frantically tries to think of an excuse, his face reddening visibly when he couldn’t think of one. Dan eyes him, giving him the same confused look as before.He puts the controller on the ground and gets up off the couch, stretching his arms above his head. Doing this reveals even more of his midriff, causing a small noise to escape Arin’s lips. He quickly throws a blanket across his lap, trying to cover up the ever growing bulge in his jeans. Dan luckily didn’t notice this.

“Maybe we should take a break, yea? You seem a little off and I need to get something to drink anyway. Want anything?”

Arin shakes his head, not even bothering to try and speak at this point. Dan leaves the room and Arin sighs, trying to calm himself down. Getting hard just by seeing Dan’s underwear? He’s seen all the NSP videos, which feature 90% more of Dan’s long, thin body, but it was nothing like seeing it in person. After about a minute, he’s calm again, and Dan walks back into the room, water bottle in hand. He sits on the couch and looks at Arin.

“You good now, buddy?”

“Yea man, sorry about that. Just sort of zoned out.”

“You know we have to scrap that whole recording, right? You didn’t say anything the whole time. Let’s put in a different game and try again yea?”

“Sorry, yea. Wanna throw in Kirby Dream Course or something real quick? Just to get in a goofy mood or some shit like that.”

“Sounds good to me, baby bear.”


After a few rounds, both of the grumps are in a better mood. They start the real recording session and get into their usual groove. When it’s Arin’s turn to take over - after Dan died five times in a row at the exact same spot - Dan takes out his phone and after only a few seconds starts giggling.

“What’s so funny, man? Did Barry send you a dick pic or something?”

“Oh Barry’s dick is no joke, believe you me. I was just looking on Facebook and passed this Buzzfeed article about men’s lingerie. Thought it was a little funny. I’m sure some guys can pull it off, but can you imagine someone like me in a lacy thong or a garter belt and thigh highs?”

Dan laughs but Arin has to stifle a moan, because he could imagine Dan in a lacy thong. In fact, that’s what he was doing now. The classic Mario death music chimed from the TV as Arin ran directly into a fireball. This causes Dan to laugh even more.

“Who knows, man. I mean, you look pretty good in a speedo and a full body spandex suit. Lingerie would probably be more comfortable, actually.”

Dan smirks at this notion, and chuckles softly, as though remembering an old joke.

“Next time on Game Grumps, Arin keeps fantasizing about me wearing a thong. Bye everybody!”

Dan tosses the controller on the couch and sighs, looking at Arin and smiling.

“I think that’s enough grumping for one day. I’m beat. Text me the time for next week, ok?”

Before Arin had a chance to respond, Dan had already left. Alone with his thoughts, Arin lets his mind wander back to Dan, as it usually ends up doing nowadays. The image of Dan’s long legs shrouded in thin black lace, meeting up with a garter belt and a sultry pink thong plagued his mind for what seemed like hours. After looking at his phone, he realizes it has in fact been a few hours since Dan left, and he decides to go home as well.

It’s finally time for the next recording session, and Arin has been trying everything in his power to keep his mind off of Dan and his gorgeous body. Unfortunately, nothing has been working, but he’s able to keep his composure when Dan walks into the room. He’s wearing an old Rush shirt and his usual pair of faded and torn jeans. Even in such normal clothing, Arin still finds himself thinking about what’s underneath, thinks about how nice it wold be to just lay down on the couch with him, to have Dan wrap his long, warm arms around -

“Hey, earth to Arin. You aren’t gonna start this shit before we even get one episode done, are you?”

Dan’s tone is playful, and Arin shakes himself out of his little fantasy.

“It’s all good, I promise. I’m on my A game today, no getting distracted.”

Dan smirks, just like he had at the last session. A knowing little smile with just a hint of deviance.

“Yea? If you say so.”

He takes his place on the couch next to Arin, sitting ever so much closer than usual, his right shoe touching Arin’s left one. Arin’s cheeks redden slightly, but Dan is too focused on getting the game started that he doesn’t notice.


“Hey Ar, can I get your opinion on something?”

Dan had been a little more quiet than usual for the first couple of episodes this session. Arin didn’t look away from the screen, trying to hold his concentration.

“Yea sure dude, what’s up?”

“Well actually, you might need to pause the game for this. It’s sorta a visual thing.”

Arin hears a light clinking sound and he looks over to Dan, who is undoing his belt. He can feel heat rising in his belly and face. His hands go limp and he drops the controller.

“Oh - uh ok. Barry, edit this out.”

Dan continues to undo his belt, making sure to look Arin right in the eyes as he’s doing it. Arin’s mouth goes dry and he can’t do anything but stare. Dan undoes the button on his jeans, that same smirk returning to his lips.

“It’s not my face that I want your opinion on. Look down, hot shot.”

Arin’s eyes turn downward, towards Dan’s hands that are slowly lowering his jeans, exposing the top of a hot pink lace thong. Dan tugs at a piece of the fabric with two of his fingers, pulling it up a few inches as if to show off the intricate design. At first, all Arin can do is sit there, mouth agape, staring directly at Dan’s crotch, his own jeans starting to feel a little tight.

“Where - where’d you get those, Dan?”

Dan chuckles, buttoning up his pants as he does so. 

“I’ve had em for a while, actually. I bought them for a uh, project back in college but I never ended up using them. Well, not this pair any way.”

Arin is still too dazed to move, not even making an effort to hide his very obvious erection, Dan looks him up and down, pausing at his crotch, and bites his lip.

“I’m guess guys like me really can pull off this sort of thing. Thanks for setting me…straight about that, Ar.”

Arin can’t even respond, his mind still trying to decide if this was really happening or if it was just another fantasy. Only one way to find out.

anonymous asked:

okay but considering this. the scooby gang having a mario kart tournament. who'd win?

i love this ask i’m going to go into detail with this ask

-buffy has no mario kart skills whatsoever and it frustrates her because she was expecting to be really good, but she can’t figure out how to steer for the first two hours especially since everyone else is doing better than her and it’s hard to pay attention to the game when that’s going down. 

-when she Finally gets a handle on it, she’s bumped off the road by xander. xander has literally never won any mario kart game because he’s too busy trying to sabotage everyone else. sort of an “i know i can’t do this so i’m taking you all down with me” kind of strategy

-willow is pretty good!! usually if it’s just the three of them she wins, because buffy and xander are getting fiercely competitive and trying to bump each other off of the road and meanwhile she pulls neatly into first place

-they drag giles into it and they’re all expecting him to be really bad, but he gets the hang of it unnervingly quickly and suddenly he’s destroyed all of them and won first place five times in a row. he still doesn’t get what’s going on. it’s just a fun little driving game why are buffy and xander so upset

-cordelia likes to pretend she’s too cool for video games but she’s really, really not and usually she and xander get caught up in trying to sabotage each other. these are the few games that buffy actually wins

-oz just watches and provides taciturn commentary

-jenny is very strategic. she doesn’t say a word about how far ahead she is and she lets the kids distract themselves while she pulls ahead of them. really it’s a competition between her and willow

-faith plays for fun and actually isn’t very competitive about it. she really enjoys messing with buffy and xander, and sometimes giles. she’s the only one who ever ran him off the course and he was so taken aback that he had to stop playing for a while 

-tara only really wants to play with willow because she knows how competitive the scoobies get, so usually she’s the one making snacks and giggling when buffy and xander yell at each other

-oh my god. anya. anya fucking dominates mario kart. they had to stop her from playing with all of them because she’s so good and she’s so competitive. she fights dirty. one time she tried to tickle xander while still steering her own car so she could distract him. anya doesn’t play to “have fun,” anya plays to Win

Brother's Best Friend

Hello :) Gonna try something new for the introduction.

Summary: You’re Luke’s little sister and he has a sleepover with 3 of his best friends. You all have a great time until you begin to feel attracted to one of them.


best friends blog which you should totally check out cause she’s cool


“Hey man!” Your brother, Luke, does a bro-hug with 3 other boys who were entering your house. A bright red-haired boy, an adorable one with black hair and a blonde streak, and then a cute curly haired one with glasses.

You slide past the reunion and into the kitchen to grab a water bottle.

“Who are those people?” You ask your mom who was making pizza.

“Some of Luke’s friends from school. He usually goes to their house, but I insisted they come here tonight.” She tells you, sprinkling on some cheese on the dough.

“Oh. I guess nobody thought to tell me, then.” You laugh, walking around and stealing a pepperoni.

“Mrs. Hemmings! I love you already!” The red-haired boy clasps his hands together and admires the pizza.

“Sorry, Michael loves pizza. A lot.” The one with curly hair laughs. His laugh is probably the cutest and most infectious thing ever.

“Okay, so this is my mom.” Luke announces, stepping through an opening between Michael and the black haired one.

“Oh, call me Liz! I’m not that old-fashioned!” Your mother walks over and hugs all of them.

“Yeah, okay, so this is Calum, Michael, and Ashton.” Luke points to each of them.

“Do you guys want anything to drink? Oh! And I made each of you a pizza base, you’ll need to add your own toppings.” She pulls out 5 pieces of dough with cheese and sauce. You grab the top one and walk over to the other side of the kitchen and grab some of your favorite toppings.

“YOUR MOM IS AWESOME!” Michael squeals, making everyone laugh.

“Yell if you need me.” Your mom calls to the boys, before patting your shoulder and smiling. You smile back as she walks upstairs.

“I need mushrooms.” Calum announces.

“Oh, sorry.” You say, walking over to the other side and handing him the box.

“And who’s this?” Michael asks, stretching out his hand.

You laugh and take it before telling him your name.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a sister?” Ashton questions, Luke rolls his eyes, while Ashton walks over to you and pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry, I prefer hugs.” He says while doing his adorable laugh again.

You smile at Ashton before staring at Luke, waiting for an explanation. You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrows. Luke pulls on his collar before sighing and explaining to you.

“Look, they, uh…. Oh, they’re just weird. And I didn’t want you to judge me even more than you already do.” He quickly states before walking over to you.

“Now, go get your pizza and bring it over here so you can meet your favorite brother’s best friends.” He says, pushing you over to where your pizza is.

You laugh and nod. Luke was your best friend since the time you were born and he was in diapers. Being only a year younger than Luke, you went to the same high school but never saw each other. It was a great situation, he couldn’t embarrass you and you couldn’t embarrass him. It was strange for him not to tell his best friends about you though. Luke was in almost all of your stories you told to your friends. You two were inseparable. Why weren’t you in his? You shrugged it off and brought your pizza to the island and stood between Luke and Calum.

“I want to apologize for my sister’s really weird pizza toppings.” Luke says as you sprinkle banana pepper strips onto your pizza.

“Hey!” You try and defend yourself, picking up a pepperoni and smacking him with it. You laugh before he eats it and picks up some cheese from the glass bowl your mother laid out and throwing it at your face.

The boys are laughing at you until Michael snaps his head up and realizes what’s going on.

“You guys are wasting all of this beautiful food!!!!” He gaps, looking around at the mess you made.

“Michael’s right.” Calum nods, picking up the food off of the floor.

“I swear if you eat that-” You begin before he puts it in his mouth.

“Luke, your friends are disgusting.” You say giving Calum a terrible look before walking into the living room and sitting on the couch.

“Hey! I’ve just been standing here!” Ashton calls after you.

You laugh and shake your head before turning on the tv.

“Scoot over, shortie.” Luke says, plopping down beside you. He constantly called you that, but in your defense you weren’t that short. He was just 6’2. Everyone was shortie to him. Except his friends, who were equally as tall.

Before you could even move, Ashton sits beside you with Michael on the other side of him and Calum beside Luke. The five of you were squished together like people at the front row of a concert.

“You guys know we have more than just a couch, right?” You ask, motioning to the multiple chairs you had in your living room.

“Yeah, we’re trying to get close to you, Luke’s little sister.” Michael says, clearly having forgot your name.

You open your mouth to tell him your name but before you can Ashton answers.

“Her name is (Y/N). Pay attention next time.” You laugh as Ashton smiles at you. He swings his arm around the back of the couch.

Luke rolls his eyes and turns to Calum, who was heavily invested in the show that was on the tv.

“You like Keeping Up With the Kardashians, too?” You ask, reaching across Luke and poking Calum to bring him back to reality.

He jumps and looks at you before looking at the other boys who were holding back laughs.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” He crosses his arms and turns his attention back to the tv. You laugh and get up, walking to the kitchen to help your mom with all 6 pizzas.

“Oh my Lord! This one weighs like 10 pounds!” She gawks, picking up Michael’s pizza. You nod and laugh before taking it from her and putting it into the oven.

“Do you like Luke’s friends?” She asks, handing you another one.

“Yeah, they’re pretty funny.” You smile, closing the oven after they were all in there.

“And messy.” She mutters, looking at the assorted toppings left on the counter.

“Hey, come clean up your mess.” You call, walking into the living room.

“(Y/n), I have friends over.” Luke sighs, turning his head to look at you.

“Yes, and you and your friends will come and clean up the mess that Calum didn’t eat.” You tell him, before walking upstairs to your room. One of the boys whistles and the others laugh before someone tells Luke he’s ‘whipped by his sister.’ You roll your eyes and laugh to yourself, then grab your laptop before going on netflix and watching your favorite show.

Someone barges in, laughing before his eyes meet yours.

“Oh my god, (Y/n), I’m so sorry, Luke told me the 2nd door on the right was the bathroom.” Ashton looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Ashton, you’re fine. Try the first door.” You laugh at him. He gives a quick embarrassed smile, but instead of walking out, he leans against your door frame.

“So, why don’t I ever see you around school?” He asks. Usually you’re the one asking questions, not answering them. So naturally, you got a little awkward.

“Uh, I’m in grade 11. So, I guess we just have separate classes?” You shrug your shoulders and he nods.

“Yeah, guess so. It’s a shame. I hate to cut this short, but I’m about to pee all over myself.” You laugh at him as he walks out of your room and into the bathroom.

You shut your laptop and walk to your dresser and picking up one of Luke’s old tank tops and a pair of leggings. You loved to sleep in oversized things and as soon as Luke outgrew something you quickly snatched it up. You assumed tonight the boys would sleep downstairs and you wanted to use the shower before them, in case they planned on taking one.

“You should come down here with us.” Ashton says, popping in once more.

“Oh, I think I’m going to take a shower then go eat. But maybe after.” You say, smiling. He nods and walks downstairs.

You try and compose yourself, but you couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him. Luke would kill you if you tried anything, though. He wasn’t the most accepting with your relationships. Granted, all the boys you’ve dated are jerks who only care about sex, so you usually ended up with your heart broken and Luke beating someone up.

Grabbing your pajamas, you walk to the bathroom and close the door. You grab your phone and play your ‘shower’ playlist and then turn on the water.

You begin to sing your favorite songs, a lot quieter than usual because of your brother’s friends downstairs, but then your current favorite song comes on and you can’t resist belting it out. Hoping they couldn’t hear you, you perform ‘Uptown Funk’, complete with dancing and the shampoo bottle as your microphone.

“Wow, I’m such a dork.” You mutter to yourself as you step out onto the rug and dry yourself off. You quickly throw your pajamas on and go back to your room to put on some fuzzy socks and a cardigan because it felt colder than usual.

You hum to yourself as you run down the stairs and into the kitchen where all of the boys were sitting and eating.

You slightly smile at them before grabbing your pizza off of the table and getting some more water. Planning on eating in the living room, you begin to walk out.

“Lovely voice you have, by the way.” Michael yells after you, making you turn around with your mouth hung open in embarrassment.

“I… I didn’t know I was that loud.” You admit before giving them a look a running out. Sitting your plate on the coffee table you put your head in your hands in sheer mortification.

“(Y/n), it’s okay.” Luke says, walking in while still laughing.

“It is not okay.” You correct with your head remaining in its place.

“Come here. It’s funny. They were singing along.” He tells you, sitting down beside you and hugging you from the side.


“Luke!” You squeal, hitting him in the chest.

“Hey, is that my shirt?” Ashton says, walking in and sitting beside you as he looks at the tank top you were wearing.

“This was Luke’s..” You say, looking down at your ‘You Complete Mess’ shirt Luke gave to you 3 weeks ago.

“Oh yeah, that is yours, isn’t it?” Luke nods.

“Luke, how could you just forget you didn’t buy this shirt before you gave it to me.” You ask, slightly irritated that you not only embarrassed yourself in front of a very cute guy, you were also wearing his shirt. Lovely.

“It’s alright, you look better in it than I did.” Ashton says, laughing a bit.

Your heart swells up and you begin to blush at this comment. You look at him and give a small smile, however Luke has a different reaction.

Luke’s head shoots up and he gives Ashton a dirty look. Calum does a low whistle before saying “The claws are out now.” And turning on the tv.

“How’s your pizza, Michael.” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“It’s great, thanks for asking. How’s your disgusting looking pizza?” He questions, snarling his nose up when you take a big bite.

“It’s delicious, thanks.” You say with your mouth full attempting to cover it all up with your hand so it was almost not disgusting. He nods and turns his attention to the tv.

“Where are you guys sleeping?” You ask, taking another bite.

“Probably in here.” Luke answers.

“Why? You wanna tag along?” Calum wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You laugh and shake your head no.

“Only in your dreams, buddy.” you say, getting up and patting his head before walking into the kitchen and putting away your dishes.

As you began to wash the ones already in the sink to help out your mom, you thought about Luke’s friends. You hoped they’d be over a lot. They were really funny and nice, unlike his other friend’s who didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You snap out of your thoughts when another plate is dipped into the water.

“Hey Michael.” You smile, scooting over so he’d have room to wash his dishes.

“What’s up, buttercup.” He laughs in embarrassment at his cheesy comment, making you laugh even harder.

After finishing the dishes you walk back into the living room and to the back of the couch.

“Alright I’m going upstairs for the night. Have fun.” You tell Luke before leaning down and trying to hug him, the couch getting in the way.

“Night, sleep well.” He says, not taking his eyes off the game he was playing until someone pauses it.

“Don’t we get a goodnight hug?” Ashton asks, looking up. You assume he was the one who paused it.

“No you do not. She’s my sister, not yours.” Luke eyes him before pressing buttons on his controller, trying to make it resume, even though he knew that would make no difference.

“Ashton, unpause it!” Michael whines, getting impatient. You laugh and wave goodnight to the boys, but the only one paying attention is Ashton. He waves back then you go upstairs.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, YOU -” Michael begins to scream but then stops. You imagine Luke slapping him and muttering something about his mom being home, making you laugh.

You get into bed and watch a few more episodes of your favorite show.

A few turns into about 6, and before you know it, it’s 3 am.

You curse under your breath, knowing your mother will be waking you up early tomorrow.  You get up and put your laptop in it’s place.

You suddenly realize that you haven’t had anything to drink since dinner and you have a craving for a glass of orange juice.

You silently tip-toe down the stairs, seeing Michael and Luke cuddled up together and snoring. You try to hold in a laugh, and quickly take a picture. Instead of a quick, innocent picture, your camera decides to shine the brightest light possible.

You jerk your phone to your shirt, trying to block the light. The boys stir, but thankfully none wake up. You sigh in relief before turning off your flash and trying it again.

“Much better.” You whisper to yourself, looking at the picture.

You walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a tall glass of orange juice.

“Nice flash.” You almost spit out your juice as you jump out of your skin. You turn around and see Ashton, who was trying not to laugh.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He says through chuckles.

“That’s alright.” You give a little giggle before finishing your glass.

“Why are you up?” He asks, stepping closer as you lean against the island.

“I got kinda carried away watching Netflix.” You admit. He smiles and nods.

“I can’t really sleep with Michael snoring like that.” He runs his fingers through his curly hair. You didn’t realize you were staring until he clears his throat. You quickly look away, embarrassed.

“Well, I should probably let you go to sleep.” You say, standing up straight and smiling at him.

“Without Luke here to stop it this time, I think I should get a goodnight hug.” He opens his arms and beckons you to step closer.

You laugh and shake your head before stretching your arms around his torso. He wraps his arms around you and rests his hands on your lower back and squeezes slightly. You can’t help but become infatuated with his scent. He smells like spearmint gum, soap, and you also detect a slight smell of pizza, which of course made sense.

You two stay like this for a minute before he slowly loosens his grip. You lean back and look up at him. Reluctantly, you pull your hands off of him and run your hand through your hair.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He admits before pushing you up against the refrigerator. He grabs your face gently and slowly kisses you. At first you are frozen in complete shock, but as soon as your mind registers what is happening you begin to kiss him back. The kiss slowly got more and more heated, until the lights are flipped on and you hear your brother’s unmistakable voice.

“(Y/N)!” You quickly push Ashton off of you and you both straighten up. Luke was staring at the two of you with his mouth wide open and eyes full of anger.

“Look, man, I couldn’t do it anymore. I’ve put my feelings aside for 3 mo-” Ashton begins but is quickly shut up by Luke.

“I told you no, Ashton. And you couldn’t respect that. Get out of here.” He growls, turning his attention to you.

“Luke, I’m so sorry, I, well, I’m so sorry.” You say, beginning to cry. You walk over to Luke to try and hug him, but he quickly moves away as you try and wrap your arms around him.

“Go to your room.” He spits, making you cry even harder. You quickly run up the stairs and into your room, collapsing onto your bed. Your bloodshot eyes are flooded with tears for the rest of the night. You seem to not be able to forget the taste of Ashton’s lips, the absolute terror you felt as the light flipped on, and the undeniable fury in Luke’s voice, as you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling with small tears sliding down your cheek.

For anon

“ANDY! Would you please put that stupid cat down and help me for five minutes… for once?”
He covers crows ears, and pouts at you,
“Crow’s not stupid, don’t listen to that meanie Crow, Andy loves you” You raise an eyebrow, and roll your eyes. He still doesn’t get off his ass to help you. He just sits and plays with that god damnit cat of his. You storm over, with hands that now smell of washing up liquid and Febreeze, and take the cat off of his lap. The shoe lace he was chasing lands next to your foot.
Andy looks up at you, with a frown. It’s a more than just a little annoyed kind of frown. He looks like he could punch you in the face, right now.
“come help me now Andrew.. PLEASE!”
“Y/N I was just trying to play with the cat for five minutes! I was on tour for so long and I love seeing you both, and I want to spend time with him too!”
“I know you do Honey, but I need your help right now.” That’s when he mumbles something that changes the game completely.
“Juliet wouldn’t have been this bitchy about it. Unless she was on her period”
Excuse me Andrew? What the fuck did you just say?”
“Juliet, was never, this, fucking, bitchy!” Somehow this little upset over cleaning the apartment had turned into this massive row, and you hate it. You hate arguing with him. Thinking about it, it has happened a lot lately, and he’s been very distant. When he was away, he was calling you much less than he used to, and he didn't always pick up when he promised he’d be there to do so.
“you know what? Andy? Maybe you should have picked up the phone for five minutes or bothered to leave a message!”
“Look I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. We’re done.”
“Andy- but I-”
“WE’RE FUCKING THROUGH!, Y/N!…I’m done with you, and your shit. ” You stand there, and watch him, as he stands up, with Crow under his arm, and walks out, 
“ANDY!” he slams the door behind him, and leaves you, stood there, breathing heavily, trying not to cry.

You decide, after pondering on what happened for a good hour or so, to call Jake and get out of that godforsaken apartment. He picks up after the second ring
“Hi Y/N, what’s up?”
“Listen… Andy and I… Can I stay with you two, for a little while?" 
"Y/N… Of course you can, are you okay?” You’ve been trying to hold it in, but you can’t, anymore. You trust Jake, and you don’t mind him knowing how upset you are .
“It was so stupid, I just wanted him to help me and he’s just been so distant and-” Your voice cracks, as the tears form. 
“Y/N, don’t cry, it’ll be alright in the end, trust me. Me and Ella have had our ups and downs, and we’re getting married. Give it time. Okay?”
“Yeah- um- I’ll see you in an hour.” You hang up, and make yourself pack enough for a week, and get in the car to drive.

You pull yourself together, as you knock on the door. Jake opens it to you, and leans towards you to give you a hug. You sniffle, as  you walk through the hall, and plonk yourself on the couch. 

Your cell starts playing that recording you had, of Andy singing the same song he always sang to you when he held you when you had PTSD nightmares. You remember him smiling at you, rocking you, singing Rebel love song, softly, before kissing you and staying with you all night. Through the nightmares, through the storms that kept you awake. You stare at his picture on your screen, remembering him yelling at you before, and how mad you are. You think about it, but you don’t answer it. But as soon as it goes to answerphone, it rings all over again. 

You distract yourself, trying to start a conversation. Ella notices you looking upset, and sits next to you. She elbows you, and you look up. 
“You know, all boys are idiots,” Jake huffs from the kitchen and you both laugh.
“I need to go and get some sleep, I’m all worked up,” she nods at you, and you go off to bed, knowing you won’t wake up until the morning now. 

You wake up, somewhere around 6am, to a knock on the door. You heave yourself up, and open it, to Andy. 
“God, Y/N I know you hate me. I was so stupid, and I just came to say I’m sorry, and- And I love you. So much.” You feel yourself tear up, and lean towards him to give him a hug, 
“Y/N? Am I forgiven?”
“Of course not, you’re an asshole. That, Andy, is not forgiven. But we can start again.” There’s a moment’s silence, before he says, 
“Hi, I’m Andy, I’m an asshole, nice to meet you.”

Dean can’t connect with his mother, not like Sam. The nostalgia fueled fantasy created by foggy memories and stories John told over and over about his late wife don’t mesh with now living person in the room down the hall.
It’s not the big things, but the little. Fantasies are usually better than reality anyway.
Sam has no memories and didn’t hang on every word his father spoke. For some reason Sam and Mary can talk for hours.
Dean can for a little while, but something always comes up, something to change a memory or one of his long held beliefs that he thinks make him who he is.
He sits and thinks on things too long, deep in thought at a table in the library when he should be sleeping.
He thinks about calling Cas again, knows he won’t be sleeping but knows that at 3 am most of the conversation would be about why Dean should be asleep.
He has been doing that more and more, talking to Cas, calling him for no reason or when he is unsure or feels out of place.
He knows there will be an adjustment period to having a mom, he just hopes it will be over soon and the feeling of home will seep in, like he always imagined it would feel to have a mother.
His phone glows in the darkened room, his resolve runs out and he hits the little phone on the screen then the 2 that speed dials Cas.
The ring only lasts a second before stopping and the scruffy voice on the other end answers, “ Dean, is everything okay, or are you unable to sleep again?”
“Hey Cas, I can’t sleep, everything is fine.” Dean answers looking down at the table,“ I’m just… I don’t know..”
“Thinking?” Cas finishes the thought for him.
“Yeah, maybe,” Dean leans back in the chair and looks to the stairs, wishing he could leave and go to wherever Cas is.
“Dean you should try and sleep, you’ve called the last five nights in a row. It worries me, you can’t keep going on so little.” Cas’ voice is quiet and sincere.
Dean thinks it and says the words at the same time before he can stop them falling from his mouth, “I miss you Cas, I wish you were here or I was there.”
The moment of silence from the other end has him squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of his nose, regretting the words.
“I can be there in an hour if I drive fast.” Finally breaks through the speaker. “I miss you too.”
“Please, if your not busy, if you’ve got something you need to do… I mean, I know your busy buddy.” Dean tried to sound indifferent.
“I’ll be there by 4:15, do you want me to stay on the line while I drive, I have questions about a few things I encountered today.” The door to the old truck closed in the background and the radio came on with the engine.
“Yeah what happened?” Dean relaxed and leaned on the table waiting to hear about the angel’s day.
“What does ‘bamf’ mean? I think someone referred to me by that today while I was questioning someone. I didn’t know if I should be offended.” Cas asked.
Dean just smiled and relaxed a little more, forgetting all of the worried thoughts he had been having only a few minutes before.

inspired by this prompt with a bit of a twist at the end uwu


Kurt doesn’t like the subway, thinks it’s crowded and smelly and hot and gross, and cabs are much too expensive for a student who barely earns enough to get a decent meal three times a day. So, out of practicality and convenience, he thinks that buses are much better suited for his needs. Granted, it takes more time for him to get to class that way, but it costs less and it’s much more sanitized. Well, he likes to thinks so, anyway.

Besides, it’s totally worth seeing that guy he’s been eyeing every morning for two months now.

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i want a story where some villain that is obsessed with genetic engineering. and then he discovers that Clint is the only true Human amongst main avengers. no suit, no serum, no wings, no powers. just a human with a bow.

they become obsessed with him and end up causing a massive accident and kidnapping clint and finds that old machine that Howard Stark used and puts him in it to inject him with is own “superior super serum”.

the avengers don’t get to him until right as he ends his dastardly monologue and barton is begging for his life.

but he flips the switch, at which point banner/hulk starts flipping tables.

they get too him but not before the injections start. just before they start ripping the machine apart tony stops them, points to a machine that is keeping track of his vitals. one of them is monitoring for anaphylactic shock. if they stop mid injection he’ll die of it. (there are like five rows of needles set to inject him automatically.)

so they have to time it just right in order to keep him safe.

but he’s screaming. natasha is trying to talk to him, even steve says something but he is just begging and screaming and it’s like FIRE in his veins. bucky has to cover his ear because it’s to familiar, it hits to close to home.

eventually the needles empty and pull out then the next round starts but before the needles can pierce the skin they manage to tear the machine apart. but he’s still screaming.

thankfully thor knocks him out.

when he wakes up next he’s in the tower, but retrained by god knows what metal restraints. when steve walks in he asks why didn’t they get him out sooner, he saw them he remembers that. and when steve tries to explain he interrupts and says “don’t you know by now that i’d rather die than be turned into a monster?”

steve doesn’t understand and he explains. “you said yourself, eckstein said that it amplifies what’s on the inside… steve i’m not a good man, i’m not like you. i’ve done things, things i’m not proud of. i don’t want to be a monster.”

steve tries convince him that he’s not going to be a monster, even if the drugs do something, that there is something intrinsically good about him, but clint won’t hear it.  he knows what kind of man he is. steve leaves and eventually bucky visits, checks on him, offers to take the restraints off but clint insists they stay on.

he makes bucky promise, that if he goes dark side he’ll kill him. he doesn’t care how, just finish him. cut up his body, shred it to pieces, burying him so far down that no one will ever find it. but most of all, lie. lie to laura. tell her he died a hero’s death. lie so that his kids don’t have to think about their daddy being a villain.

“i don’t want to be immortal. i don’t want to outlive my wife. i don’t want to outlive my kids. and i don’t want to be the next red skull”

and bucky’s mouth goes dry and he nods and clint  thanks him and when he leaevs he finds natasha sits down heavily next to her.

“he wants me to kill him if he goes darkside.”

when natasha jumps up he pulls her back down. “he’s not going to go dark side. because i definitely cannot kill him,.”

and it’s just about helping him. seeing if he is changed. helping his family. and you know…

just clint wanting to be human and GAH!

someone right this better than i can!!