where is my brain right now


To be totally honest, the news hasn’t made it’s way into my brain yet, but I’m looking at these beautiful smiling faces around me… Faces of the ones I love. And I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. What makes this moment so much more poignant is that I’m in India right now. This enthralling country holds such a deep place in my heart, and it is where Saroo’s journey was born.

— Congratulations to Dev Patel, the 3rd ever Indian actor nominated for an Oscar for his supporting role in Lion!

I’m pretty sure Mei’s cinematic short made alot of us bawl our eyes out.

And then there’s this lil detail that I saw that I particularly liked but am not too sure on the accuracy of, and that is tea serving.

 In SG, we usually serve either rice wine or tea as a sign of respect to our ancestors during Qing Ming/ Grave sweeping Day to remember our ancestors and loved ones ( by placing three small lil cups of tea/ rice wine at the gravestone). 
At the same time, tea serving or 敬茶  is also a tradition that’s practiced during weddings where the newly weds serve tea to their relatives to acknowledge their new in-laws and new “brothers” and “sisters” and to pay respect to their current blood relatives.
Now I’m half drunk out of my mind and it’s late at night and @pentacass​ is half egging me on and I cannot brain properly right now, and inferring off the photo of Mei and her co-workers; they obviously seem like a close knit group of friends to her. 

I’m secretly half hoping/ imagining that those cups of tea she’s left for them is cause she’s acknowledged them as her brothers and sisters and served the tea to complete the tradition properly. 

Or to put it simply, She considers them as family.


On second thought, now that I’m slightly more sober.
Can you imagine the line interactions between Mei and Angela ingame?
How Angela asks Mei about how she stays looking so young?

Mercy: Mei, you haven’t aged a day. What’s your secret?
Mei: Cryostasis. But I’m not sure if I’d recommend it.

Can you imagine, how Mei must be hurting sooooo much inside, when Angela asks that question? Like she just nyooooms back in her head sifting and recalling memories of when she just came out of the chamber to prep tea and all that shit for her colleagues as if its just another regular day at work? I wonder now, does Angela know what really happened? 
RIP To My Youth

and you could call this the funeral

My first Jughead imagine, this is part one, if you guys enjoy it I’ll keep it going. 

Pairing: Jughead x Reader 

Description: Jug and the reader have been best friends since they were kids, but lately, things have changed, Riverdale has changed, Jug has changed and Y/N thinks maybe it’s time she changed too. 

Warnings: ANGST ANGST SO MUCH ANGST YO (maybe a couple o swears)

Word count: 2088

Part 2https://thatsadbreakfastclub.tumblr.com/post/158505761114/rip-to-my-youth-pt-2

It was getting to the point where I was having internal battles with myself every night. ‘Y/N he’s working on the novel and the newspaper, of course, it’s going to be harder for him to spend time with you’ versus ‘he’s moved on, he’s closer with Betty now, he and Archie are closer too, you’ve lost him, you’re irrelevant’. These were the thoughts that had been consuming my brain for the past couple of weeks. Jug was my best friend, right? Maybe I should text him? Maybe not. I started playing with my pale grey cap, my nervous tick of sorts. Jug could always tell when I was nervous because I would fiddle with the cap “Y/N” he’d say “spill it, you can’t hide anything from me, I can read you like an open book”. Thinking about this little memory was bittersweet. How can someone who’s practically by your side every day suddenly just have no real interest in talking to you? Ever since the murder of Jason Blossom, it really feels like everything in Riverdale has changed.

I glanced at my clock perched on my bedside table, 7:45 pm sigh. Maybe doing some homework will take my mind off all this bullshit, who’s idea was it to put me in advanced algebra anyway? Oh, that’s right my father, who I really wish was here right now and not away on some business trip. Tonight would have to be a lonely one. That’s when I remembered I had Jug’s math textbook, there it was sitting on my desk. I flipped it open and sure enough on the bottom left-hand corner was a small ‘property of Jughead Jones’. Perfect I could use this as an excuse to text him. 

Hey Jug, I forgot I had your math textbook? Want me to come drop it over? The two-hour wait to get a reply just built up more and more anger inside of me Hey Y/N, I’m working on an article with Betty right now, could you drop it off to me in the newsroom in free period tomorrow? This was it, this was fucking it, oh I would take his textbook to him tomorrow and I would also confront him about this whole thing, that’s what I’d do straight up ask him why I was suddenly dead weight, I’ve had his guys back for so many years and now I’m just nothing, I won’t have it. Will do I sent back, cool calm and collected and then I was going to give him a piece of my mind tomorrow.

Getting ready for school was never a difficult task for me, I pretty much did the same thing everyday. My Y/H/C was tied into a ponytail with the front strands falling onto my face framing it. I put on my classic ripped boyfriend jeans and a black t-shirt, accompanied by my army jacket. To finish off my classic look I added my signature grey cap and put on my favourite dark grey lipstick. I wasn’t the girliest of girls, that was for sure, but everyone seemed to identify me by my style and in this I found comfort. After giving myself the once over in the mirror I grabbed Jug’s textbook from my desk, shoving it into my bag and I set off for school.

The day dragged on and on, I had a tonne of classes with Kevin and Ronnie today so it was nice to hang out with them for a change. This was of course until Kevin pulled the “I haven’t seen you and Jughead together in a while, what happened you two are usually joined at the hip?” line “You guys are my otp, I hope there’s no trouble in paradise” Veronica added. “Ronnie we’re not dating, why does everyone always think that and honestly, I don’t know, I guess he’s been too busy with this whole novel and newspaper thing to remember me as well” I replied giving my best interpretation of a fake smile. Veronica and Kevin gave me sympathetic looks. 

As the bell rang, signaling our release I was packing my things together when Veronica grabbed my arm. “Y/N you need to tell Jug how you feel, I don’t know if you’ve even admitted it to yourself yet but it’s pretty obvious you’re in love with him, I can see how much not seeing him is hurting you and I think it’s best if you face this head on” I was so taken aback by this, I mean for years I’ve always had people ask if Jug and I were dating but no one had been this blatant with me. Was she right?, No he’s my best friend, I couldn’t be in love with him no way. I let out an awkward laugh “I don’t love Jughead, we’re just friends” It came out so defensive that Veronica raised both her eyebrows and folded her arms “the fact that you’re being so defensive about this just further proves my point” She said in a sing-song voice. “I gotta go Ronnie” I replied standing up from my seat and walking out the classroom “I only say this cause’ I care” she yelled after me.  

Making my way towards the newsroom, I’d never felt so nervous in my life, like get a grip girlie it was just your friend, surely this whole not speaking to me thing was just, not even a big deal and I was hyping it all up. I was still going to have a go at him though because he was angry when Archie ditched him and now he’s okay with doing it to me? Not on my watch.

I had the math book in my hand as I was walking up to the door of the newsroom, I had my best ‘pissed off face’ going on I was ready.

I had my hand almost on the doorknob when I took a quick glance through the doors glass window. That was when my stomach fell, my jaw dropped and my heart involuntarily shattered. It was just a glimpse that’s all I could allow myself to watch, but inside that dusty old newsroom was one Jughead Jones kissing Elizabeth Cooper. The feelings hit me like a truck, and then everything went numb.

I didn’t know what to do so without giving any sign I was there I dropped the math book and ran, I ran out of the school I ran past pops and all the way home. By this time the tears were free falling, I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t care. Once I was in the safety of being inside my house with the door locked I gave in to my emotions and just slid down to the floor.

Wow, I felt so stupid and so naive, why didn’t I see this coming, it all made perfect sense now. I guess this was me also coming to terms with the fact that as usual Ronnie was right, I was painfully in love with Jug and now I was too late to ever do anything about it.

The more I sat there and thought about it the more I came to realise that this was my fault. I held Jug up to this crazy high standard and just assumed it would always be him and me at the end of the day. I had sacrificed so much to hang out with him, to keep my “image”, I avoided making too many other friends, I avoided parties, extracurricular activities you name it I wasn’t a part of it. Now it was all going to change, it had to change. Maybe this was the wake-up call I needed. I had to work on myself, be better, be stronger. Most of all this needed to happen because this meant I could quite literally not be around Jughead anymore, I think seeing or talking to him would make me cry, something the new me will NOT be doing.

I picked myself up off the floor and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. “Get a grip Y/N, ” I told myself staring into the mirror. It’s like as soon as I come to terms with the feelings I think I may have had for years, I have to immediately try to get rid of them. I think this was a coping mechanism for me, and I think the reason I’ve never let myself admit that I had feelings for him before was because I fear rejection so much so very much, and I had to do what I knew would keep him around and that was to continue to be his friend. Well, little girl it’s time to grow up.

And what’s the best way to look more mature and confident, change your style. From what I’ve witnessed from the media, what you wear can have a profound impact on how people view you. This is what I had to do first, get rid of the “old me” look. This meant bye grey cap, bye dark lipstick ( I mean what was I even trying to do with that? Look like a corpse?) (oh wow corpse jokes really funny, maybe a bit too real in light of recent circumstances.) And also a very big goodbye to my jeans and army jacket, that would have to go too.

Looking through my closet it was apparent I didn’t have much to work with, I would definitely have to go shopping this weekend, I’ll bring Ronnie and Kevin along, they know fashion and are probably more than willing to help me out. AH HUH eureka! The dress I’ve been looking for! About two months ago I bought this really nice burgundy skater dress that I was planning to wear on a summer trip away, but when that got cancelled I never really had an excuse to wear it, until now. It showed a lot of leg, which I was surprisingly pretty comfortable with. The thought of people seeing me in this tomorrow made me feel a mixture of excitement and nausea.

The next thing that would change was the hair; no more would it be hidden by a cap and just randomly pulled back behind my face. I would wear it down and give it a curl. I think that would give me a nice elegant edge. God, I really don’t think anyone’s even going to recognise me tomorrow, kinda funny really. The next thing I had to do was go on to the school website and look for an extracurricular I would be willing to do. Hopefully, this would be a good way to make new friends and keep me busy.

I went and grabbed my laptop from my desk, as I did this I heard my phone vibrate, which meant I had a message. The name that made the screen light up made my heart skip a few beats, it was from Jug Hey, I just found my math book outside the newsroom? Why did you leave it there and not come inside? SIGH, reading that was like a knife to my chest, I immediately deleted the message, this may be immature but I needed time, I can’t bring myself to talk to him and if he can do it to me I can sure as hell do it to him. 

Shaking those thoughts away I was brought back to the task at hand. Logging onto the schools web page I found the list of extracurricular activities going on at Riverdale high. Chess club? Pass. Girl’s soccer? Hard pass.  Mathletes? No way in hell. Come on there has to be something here. After fifteen minutes of looking to no avail I scrolled past the extracurricular activities. Eventually I saw an ad posted by the she-devil herself Cheryl Blossom, apparently, one of the river vixens had broken her ankle and a new vixen was needed immediately, auditions were tomorrow after school. Hmm, could I do this? Maybe I could? The old me would never dream of being a cheerleader but the new me, maybe she could. You know what, fuck it. It was decided, I caught myself slightly smiling as I clicked ‘attend’ on the event. It felt like a breath of fresh air, tomorrow I would walk into school confident and new. I was going to cure my own broken heart. I just hoped a run in with Jughead wouldn’t make it all come crashing down.

The Arrangement

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

Summary: in an AU where the Winchester family owns a multi-million dollar company, Dean’s in a bit of a pinch. Grandpa Samuel is threatening to cut him off if he doesn’t straighten out and stop getting into trouble. Instead of taking some responsibility, Dean comes up with an ingenious plan: find someone to pretend to be his girlfriend. You and Dean have never gotten along, but a fake relationship seems to be beneficial to you both…

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,700

Warnings: language, general rudeness (from Dean), mild angst?

A/N: so this is my new idea for a series! It’s all my brain will do right now. It’s a little rough right now, but I’m hoping you guys like it. Also the title is terrible but it’s all I could come up with.

Keep reading

Last night I parked down a dark country road and watched the meteor shower by myself. I had such a nice night, I wasn’t lonely, there was no guy I was missing or wishing could be there with me. I was perfectly fine just laying there by myself, looking at the stars, thinking about life. I wanna make it very clear that I’m not glorifying eternal singleness. If that’s what you’re after then go for it but personally I would be sad to be on my own for the rest of my life. I believe humans need each other and that emotional connection is the fuel of a meaningful life.
But where I’m at right now, I’m staying connected with my friends and family. I’m helping people through what I do and the message I share in my career. I’m not desperate, I’m not sad, I’m not waiting around for someone to come make my life enjoyable. I LOVE my life the way it is. I guess now that I’m closer to 25 and my brain is almost fully developed I can just feel myself becoming more responsible with my choices.
It used to be that if I was attracted to someone I HAD to talk to them. It didn’t matter if I knew it was a bad idea, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve grown up so much in the last year and a half since I really started dating and let myself go down that road finally. I woke up and realized that yeah, if someone is blowing you off they’re probably just gonna keep blowing you off. If someone’s not giving you their time, they probably don’t really wanna be with you. If someone is putting in minimal effort, they’re probably not serious about you. I always wanted to be able to change people or “figure them out” and just say and do the right things and then hoped that somehow I could make them come around. I’m so done being that control freak. I can’t change anyone. I can accept people for who they are but I don’t have to let things drag on when they start to get stupid.
Things don’t feel like the end of the world anymore, I don’t feel like I’m gonna die alone and I’m finally starting to appreciate myself. I know I’m a catch. I know I’m a good person. I know I’m not some worthless lowlife who’s too crazy for anyone to love (literally how I used to see myself HAHA). I know I have a ton of good traits and a fascinating mind and a lovable personality, along with plenty of flaws that someone else will learn to accept as I learn to accept theirs in return.
I’m just at a place where I’m good. I don’t have a huge void to fill. If I don’t enjoy hanging out with someone more than I do spending time with myself, I’m out. I can take myself to the movies, I can look for shooting stars alone, I can take care of things just fine on my own. I have great friends and an incredible family and I don’t need someone else coming along and screwing up my life just so I can feel the “magic” of being jerked around and mislead for a month or two. That’s not worth my time anymore.
I’m looking for stability, dependability, loyalty and someone who’s actually serious about me. Someone who is going to for real take the time to get to know me and THEN decide if they want to date me.
I’m so sick of guys blowing me up cuz they think I’m cute and then peacing out once we actually start to get close. I used to take that so hard and think there was something wrong with me, like “once people get to know me they just leave 😪😪😪”. No Lisa, that’s called people who never wanted to know you, or anyone else for that matter, and can’t handle being close with other people in general. The only way I was the problem in that situation was the fact that I let them move in way too fast and act like a crazy person and take up so much of my time without ever even trying to be my friend. I’m finally over that game.
So yeah, that’s where I’m at right now! Haha I’m realizing the error of my ways, I’m feeling good about myself and I’m PERFECTLY fine enjoying my life on my own. If a real opportunity presents itself to get to know an amazing guy in a good situation, I will gladly take it. In the meantime I have an amazing opportunity to get to know myself and I am enjoying every second :)


Reader x Stiles Stilinski


Imagine: being in love with Stiles for ages but he never notices, until one day, after a run away from a party, he tells you how he feels about you and things get heated.

Warnings: SMUTTY (oh yeah) SIN, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, swearing and sex. Little bits of fluff.

Word Count: 3336

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anonymous asked:

Oh oh oh!!! Prompt! !!! Victor and Yuuri celebrateing their cat sons birthday!!! Happy Birthday Yurio!

((I’m kinda late with this, but oh well.)) 

“What are you doing.” Yuri deadpanned as Victor steered him by the shoulders from the doorway into the apartment when he arrived at noon. He barely had time to kick off his black boots before he was forced onto the couch by a rather large, exuberant poodle.  

“Nothing, nothing,” Victor dismissed, grinning widely at both Yuri and Makkachin.

He dug his fingers into the poodles fur, giving him a bit of affection. “I don’t believe you,” Yuri said slowly as he looked between Victor and where Yuuri was standing in the kitchen. He turned his head to hide the flush that appeared when Yuuri caught his eyes and flashed him a smile. 

“Don’t worry, Yurio,” the Japanese man said as he poked at something cooking on the stove. “We just wanted you over to have katusdon with us. Our little birthday present to you.”

Yuri perked up at that. Real katsudon made by Yuuri sounded fantastic. It was months since he’d had any. “Well…” he said, pretending as if he was being put-upon (it was better for his image if he resisted a little), “I guess that’s okay.” He paused. “But you two better not be fucking lovey-dovey around me. I don’t want to see that shit on my birthday,” he made sure to add with a glare directed at Victor.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yuuri said as he sauntered over. He rested one hand on the back of the couch, the other on Yuri’s arm. “Happy birthday, Yurio.” 

“Tch. Whatever.” He pulled Makkachin closer and buried his face in his soft curls so he didn’t have to look at the gentle expressions the other two men gave him. 

“I’m almost finished cooking,” Yuuri said as he leaned over and laid a small kiss on Victor’s lips. “Why don’t you get Yurio his real present. There’s no point in keeping him waiting.”

“Wait. What. You said it was just katusdon,” Yuuri complained. He didn’t like being surprised. Not by Yuuri at least. 

“I suppose,” Victor sighed and stood up, but there was a glint of something either excited or mischievous is his eyes. Now Yuri was worried. “Close your eyes, Yurio.”

“I’m not closing my fucking eyes,” he said defiantly and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Just do it,” Yuuri laughed as he walked back into the kitchen. “The sooner you do it, the sooner it’s over.”

“It better not be something stupid like a fruit basket,” Yuuri mumbled, but closed his eyes anyway. 

There were some hushed whispers from behind him and he desperately wanted to open his eyes. 

“I’m not going to do this forever,” he said with a frown. 

“Patience,” Yuuri called. 

Yuri huffed as Makkachin left his lap. He felt like an idiot sitting on the couch with his eyes closed. But, as strange as it was, he trusted Katsudon enough to do it. 

“Okay,” Yuuri’s voice came from beside him, startling him a little, “open them.”

He opened his eyes slowly almost expecting to see some kind of stupid gift like a giant stuffed poodle (although giant stuffed tiger might be okay). But he was not expecting THAT. 

“….Otabek?” Yuri said, mouth falling open. It was like a mirage - his friend was standing right in front of him. “What?” He blinked as his brain tried to catch up. Otabek shouldn’t be here right now. He was supposed to be at home in Almaty. That’s where he was last night when they had their Skype call. 

“Happy birthday, Yura,” Otabek said, holding his arms out.

Yuri got up off the couch immediately and took the one step forward to throw himself in a hug. “Oh my god,” he said in shock. He was vaguely aware that Victor was recording everything. “How did you-” He tried to ask. 

“Yuuri and Victor bought me a plane ticket,” Otabek said as he hugged Yuri tightly. 

Yuri refused to let go, but he turned his head to look at Victor. “Really?” He didn’t want to say it was too big of a gift because he was actually so happy, but he knew how much the tickets cost. He had been looking at them for months now. 

Victor shrugged. “What’s money to me if I can’t make my family happy,”

“We’re not fucking family,” Yuri protested, but it was half-hearted. He finally pulled away from the hug to smile at Otabek. 

“I hope this was okay,” Otabek said with a quirk of his lips.

“Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. It’s fine.” Yuri nodded. “Wait. THAT’s why you didn’t text me today?!” he realized and slapped Otabek’s bicep playfully. 

“I was on a plane all morning. Seemed a waste to text ‘happy birthday’ when I could do it in person.”

Yuri bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to stop himself from smiling too much. It wouldn’t do to give away how pleased he was. 

“Ah,” Yuuri distracted him, “lunch is ready.” He placed a couple bowls of steaming katsudon on the coffee table by the couch. 

Before he could chicken out, Yuri stepped around Otabek and pulled Yuuri into a hug. “You’re a liar,” Yuri hissed when they hugged.

“Mmnn,” Yuuri agreed, slow to return the hug, but responding with a tight squeeze. 

“I never though you’d be able to lie convincingly. ‘Just katsudon’ my ass,” Yuri grouched. 

Yuuri smiled, but didn’t say anything as they pulled apart. Victor’s love of surprising people must have rubbed off on Katsudon at some point. But if all of his surprises were like this one, then maybe Yuri shouldn’t complain too much. 

He grabbed a bowl for both him and Otabek and found a spot on the couch between Victor and his friend. This gift was so much better than a stuffed tiger. 

((Happy belated birthday, Yurio. 🎉 (Also, they can be any ages you want, but I was thinking this was a couple years down the road.)))

Bad Boy (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Excessive use of pet names, mentions of bruises and small cuts, oral sex (fr), unprotected sex, slight spanking, instead of his metal arm Buck-Buck has a full sleeve of tattoos, he’s hot. This is for the second part.

Word Count: 1336.

Rating: 18+


So I sent ans ask for @bucky-plums-barnes Sinful Sunday about Bucky having a full sleeve of tattoos and being the kind of guy your parents always told to stay away from, @ryverpenrad said they’d write another version of this, so I’m tagging them and my wives @sexylibrarian1 and @thecrownedrose Because I love them!

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UF!Sans x Reader

This is for my half of a fic swap with @skeletorific
The prompt was for Red fluff with him trying to gain the Reader’s attention while they’re studying.  

*I hope you like it! <3  I kept trying to reign it in from becoming suggestive. xD

Sans hated being ignored.

It wasn’t like he was attention starved and ran around, waving his arms and demanding everyone look at him.  On the contrary, he preferred it when he wasn’t noticed–when monsters looked away from his gaze, lest they garner the wrath of him or his brother.

That hadn’t changed when the Barrier broke and monsters made it to the Surface.  Red still didn’t want any unnecessary attention; he still wanted monsters and humans alike to avert their eyes in his presence, and if they did happen to stare, he tended to get grouchy and defensive.  

You, on the other hand, were the exception.

Ever since you had come into his life, after he drunkenly hit on you at Surface Grillby’s and talked you into dancing the night away, he had actually been enamored.  He craved your attention like he craved mustard; he could never get enough.  He needed your touch, your hands cupping his cheeks and sliding toward the back of his skull, your soft body lined against his as you both moved to the beat of the music…

He sought your attention outside of the bar, as well.  He never pictured himself as the type with enough energy to actively court someone.  One-night-stands, sure, he could handle those no problem, but romance?  A relationship?  That would involve work, pursuit, putting someone else’s needs before his own.  It had always sounded like a pain, but now that you were in his life, he realized it wasn’t that difficult.  

In fact, it was fun.

So it came as no surprise that when you actually gave him a key to your place, he started taking a ‘shortcut’ inside whenever he wanted.  Hey, if you didn’t want him to randomly teleport into your bedroom (and occasionally your bathroom–it was as if he had a sixth sense for when you were showering!), you shouldn’t have given him the greenlight to come and go.  While he still usually slept as his own place (he wasn’t moving away from the boss anytime soon), he enjoyed spending his free time at yours, where he could demand your attention.

Only… right now, you were holding out on him.

And it was irritating.

“just take a little break,” he murmurs next to your ear, his tongue manifesting to slide along the side of your neck.  Your brows furrows, and you lean away, wiping his red-tinted saliva off with the back of your hand.

“Geez, Sans, I told you I have to study!  Finals are this week, and I need every minute to cram all this information into my brain.“

"i’ve got somethin’ i’d like to cram in ya,” he remarks without missing a beat, raising his bony brows suggestively.  

Sans, I’m serious!” you shoot back, shrugging his hand off your shoulder.  He grumbles, his smirk fading into a frown.  "You should just go home so I can concentrate.“

"fine, sheesh, i’ll be quiet,” he grumbles, moving to sit on the edge of your bed.  You can feel him staring at your back, however, and it makes it difficult to concentrate.  It takes a good five minutes to be able to relax enough to try to forget he’s behind you, but just as you finally get into the groove of memorizing notes, you hear the rustle of clothing behind you.

You ignore it.

Five more minutes go by, and every now and then, you hear Sans shifting around.  For the most part, he’s staying true to his word and remaining silent, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets bored and decides to bug you again.   It makes it impossible to study, and you’re stressed enough about the upcoming final that you whirl around with the intent to insist that Sans go home for the night and just let you focus, but–

–you discover Sans lying on your bed, clad in nothing but his shorts.  

His ribs are on full-display, one leg outstretched and the other bent, while his head is propped up with his arm.  He’s smirking at your expression, watching the shock and disbelief fade to a reddish tint and shift into exasperation.

“enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart?”

“Sans, what are you doing?  I told you… I said… I…”  You trail off, stumbling over your words as he begins to sit up and cross the room toward you.  His smirk has shifted into something almost predatory–a look that never fails to turn you into putty in his hands.  When his gaze locks with yours, you can see the victory shining in his bright eyelights.

“I need… to… study…” you manage, your voice soft.  Damn, he’s distracting when he’s standing in front of you like that, exuding confidence and gazing at you with such adoration, as if you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“what ya need is a break, sweetheart. you’re stressed.”  His hands grip your shoulders, phalanges kneading your taunt muscles.  "just spend a little time away from the books and come back with a fresh perspective.“

Damn, he’s… he’s making sense.  Or do you really just want an excuse to let your resolve crumble so easily?  

Either way, when he coaxes you from the chair and over to the bed, you don’t offer any resistance.  Instead, you wrap an arm around his shoulders, lying back against the pillows while he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.  You can feel his ribs scrape against your arms, and your palms glide lightly along his scapulae.   "I’m just going to lie here for a moment.  That’s it,” you insist while he chuckles.  

“i know, doll.  i’m good with just stayin’ like this for a bit.”  He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, just barely grazing your flesh with one of his sharp fangs.  You shiver lightly, holding onto him tighter, and he chuckles again, his breath hot against your skin.  "ya'know… if you’re havin’ any trouble with math stuff, i can help.“

You snort.  "I’m sure your brand of helping won’t help.”

He actually sounds insulted. “hey! what’s that supposed to mean?”

“What was that saying in high school?  Add a bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and pray we don’t multiply?”

He pulls back enough to stare at you, slack-jawed for a moment, before he begins guffawing.  He actually ends up having to wipe red-tinted tears from his eyesockets.  "oh–sweetheart…that–“  It takes him a moment to pull himself together.  ”stars, that was good.  no, not that kind of math.  though, later tonight, i’d be game for an extra credit sorta deal.“  He smirks again, quirking a suggestive brow bone.  You just grin.  "i mean that i’ve got plenty of experience with equations and theorems.”  

“You do?”  It’s the first time he’s mentioned it; you didn’t take him for the type to care much about those kinds of things.  He seemed more inclined to go through the motions looking for shortcuts and trying to take things easy.  "Since when?“

"eh, it’s ancient history,” he answers vaguely, shrugging.  "but i can help ya if you want.“  His fingers skim across your arm, just feeling your skin.  

"Actually, yeah.  Sure.  It could help to go over it.”  And maybe he’d stop trying to derail your studying if you did it together.  

Sans grins, pleased. “every time you miss a question, ya have to take off an article of clothing.”

You chuckle and shake your head, trailing your fingers along his ribs.  He squirms a little, melting beneath your light touch.  "Nah, I’d get cold.“

"ok, fine. but if you answer enough right, ya get that extra credit lesson.”  Your fingers curl around a rib, and his breath catches.  "ah–or if ya keep doin’ that, you get it now.  whichever.“  

Smirking, you untangle yourself from him and sit up, sliding toward the edge of the bed while he tries to latch onto your waist. "Let’s save that for after.  Right now, let’s see if you really know anything about math, or if you’re just messing with me.”  

Sans sits up and follows you to the desk.  He’s wearing the same confident grin from before, only this time, it’s directed at your math book.  "sweetheart, prepare to be impressed.“  He pulls a seat up to your desk, and you sit beside him while he looks over your textbook.  

….You still can’t concentrate.  

”…And put on a shirt, you’re distracting.“  

He just grins.  "fine, but for every question ya miss, i’m takin’ off an article of clothing.”  He seems pretty adamant about turning this study session into a strip-game.


“ok, ok.”  His grins turns into a smirk.  "you’re right. wouldn’t want ya missin’ all the questions on purpose just to get me completely sans-clothes.“

You groan, and shortly after, he dives into an explanation of the part you were having trouble with.

To your surprise, he explains it perfectly.  

But, yeah, you’re still definitely going to want that extra credit lesson.

Can we talk for a second about Prowling Serpopard and how one key omission in its design has ignited a war between the Vorthos and Mel sides of my brain? 

It doesn’t have deathtouch. 

“So what?” you say. “Green only gets deathtouch at secondary, and there’s nothing about the design of this card that makes it lean towards having deathtouch. It doesn’t synergize with the other rules text, and with a power of 4, it doesn’t really need it. It would just clutter card space.” 

And yes, that’s all 100% true! But then I look at the art and… 

And here’s the thing. You see those stripes? In a discussion on snake identification, the specific order those colors appear in is significant. 

These two snakes are the harmless King Snake and the highly venomous Coral Snake. When looking at them side by side, the difference between them is fairly obvious, but they’re rarely seen side by side. And in the wild, if you see a snake with red, black, and yellow stripes, you probably won’t want to reach for a field guide to figure out what it is. (Admittedly, the best advice for either snake is to just leave it the heck alone, but that’s beside the point.) 

So these two snakes have given rise to a whole host of cutesy rhymes and mnemonic devices over the years to remember which is which. Like this one for example: 

So why does this matter? Because as a former Boy Scout, I had this information pounded into my head on a regular basis. (Never mind the fact that neither of these species is native to where I live, but again, that’s beside the point.) 

So when Prowling Serpopard was released, as soon as I realized it was a cat SNAKE, the first thing I did was look at the order of its stripe colors. And sure enough, it’s got red on yellow. DANGER!! 

So then I expect to see it has deathtouch or some other mechanical representation of its famed venom and lethality, but it doesn’t. 

And then my rational side kicks in and is like, “Yeah, of course it doesn’t have deathtouch. Look at the card. That wouldn’t make any sense, Dave.” And then I’m like, “Shut up rational side of my brain! Look at the stripes!! DANGER!!” 

And now we’re right back where we started. 

What is the point of all this? 

…I dunno. It’s just been buzzing around my brain since yesterday when I saw the card. So I figured I’d share. 

I was very very nervous about announcing the show’s hiatus, but everyone has been lovely about it, across the board–Procyoners, actors, and listeners. 

Here’s the thing: we will not have an episode for you by May 11th, as I previously said. In fact, right now, I don’t know when we will put out Episode 6.

I’d hoped that without the stress of a production schedule, I’d be able to return to my usual writing pace, but that was always only half of the problem. My depression has been getting steadily worse for a while, and the sad truth I’ve had to face over the past couple of weeks is that I’m just not in a position to produce creative work right now–certainly not creative work that I like. I’ve been depressed before–I’ve been in therapy for three years, and off and on before that–but being too depressed to write is a first for me, and a pretty damn scary one. 

Tomorrow I meet with a psychiatrist to try to get on medication. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t part of my brain hoping I will take one pill and be able to jump right back into the game good as new. But for every success story out there, there’s a story about months and months of experimentation with different medicines and dosages before any positive effects are seen, so who knows?

Please understand: I take this show very seriously. The main reason I’ve decided to try medication is because not being able to work on the show is nigh unbearable to me. But I can’t commit to a timeline right now. I don’t want to propose another date and then not be able to meet it. I already feel like I’ve broken a promise to you all; I don’t want to do it again.

I’m currently behind on Patreon donor rewards. I’m very, very sorry. Getting caught up on rewards right now is my first priority, since you’ve already been charged for them, and I swear I will do these things as soon as my brain is capable of it. If you really want a refund for the rewards I haven’t gotten to yet, message me on Patreon and I will Paypal your money back to you. 

In all honesty, this is kind of humiliating for me. But I worry that if I don’t explain where I’m coming from, it will seem like I don’t care, or that this has all been an elaborate con job or something. Also, mental health problems are a lot more common than most people realize, so let me take this opportunity to say: if anyone out there feels really really bad but is constantly asking themselves ‘yeah but is this actual depression or am I simply a terrible, broken person?please know that is an extremely common symptom of depression and it’s probably worth at least checking out!

I’ll be at it again when i can. Nobody out there wants Episode 6 to be ready more than I do.

Thanks so much for your understanding.

Love, Jess

‘out of context D&D quotes’ starters p.3

“Ironically, tasting this blood is the most legal thing I’ve done all day.”
“Stand back while I get touchy-feely with this door.”
“Goddamn it guys, you’ve been in this jungle for five minutes and you’ve already given the indigenous tribes alcohol and taught them about war!”
“Sir, if you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you about spiders.”
“I mean, I just want to kill Rudolph.”
“But I was screaming diplomatically!”
“So… How’s it feel to be outshined by a bird?”
“Okay, sounds like the lesbian power couple cover is a go.”
“Do not hotbox the sin cube!”
“Suck on that one, Anubis.”
“’Punched’ is one word. ‘Fisted’ is another.”
“Wow. Man arms. …. Marms.”
“You know, I seem to remember you being a lot more gung-ho about this before you were on fire.” 
“Wait, shit, are we a cult now?”
“My grandma fucked a dragon.”
“You can’t kinkshame me! I’m the storyteller!”
“From an architectural standpoint, we should set it on fire.” 
“How do you loose 10,000 oil-soaked rats?!”
“My mom said you’re not allowed to kill me tonight.”
“Not my brain! I use it to think! … Sometimes!”
“Ah, so that’s who the butt belonged to.”
“Spoiler alert, your parents are dead.” 
“You mean to tell me we busted a hole through the church for nothing?”
“We should invent Christianity!”
“We will get you tearaway pants. It’s just not our priority right now.”
“So… Why did we hire the bear again?”
“Where the fuck is the sexy tree?”
“PLEASE don’t open any Hell portals in the car!”
“Sorry ma’am, your basement is now cinders and a god of rats has cursed your family forever.”
“I will eat a human femur one day, but today is not that day.”
“It was in my chest cavity, I get to keep it!”
“Who wants to desecrate a corpse?”
“Goddamn it, you killed the sun.”
“You can’t just call dibs on someone’s body parts.”
“If we can fit five bodies in here, let’s fit five bodies in here.”
“We are not starting a weasel slave market.”
“I fell on a bullet that was going the speed of sound.”
“You’re an MFD? What’s an MFD?” “Motha fuckin’ DOCTOR.” 
“Candles are really cheap. I’d like to buy infinite candles.”
“Oh my god! They were alive when they were murdered!”
“Are those monkey eggs?”
“I’m going to punch the water! Fuck your hydrogen bonds!”

anonymous asked:

That scene is not about kim: “Every single article had these descriptions of my personality that were very different from my actual personality. My first reaction was ‘man that’s a bummer, this isn’t fun for me’. But my second reaction ended up being ‘hey, that’s actually an interesting character they’re writing about… like she jets sets around the world, collecting men and she can get any of them but she’s so clingy that they leave and then she cries in her marble bathtub surrounded by pearls’”

i was gonna ignore this, but i can’t bite my tongue. taylor and her director meticulously planned every single minuscule detail of that music video from the tombstone name to the dollar bill in the bathtub to the old school taylor outfits, hair, and makeup, and some of y'all really think that she was ignorant to how that scene with the jewels, the bathtub, and the mimed gun look. what must it be like to live in this bizarre fantasy world where taylor is one of the most shrewd and detail-oriented and intelligent business women in the industry right now, yet somehow her brain suddenly turned off and she (as well as her entire team) didn’t realize a scene in her music video for a song slamming kim and kanye had visuals that seem to allude to an incident where kim was threatened at gunpoint, had jewels taken from her, and was led to the bathtub by the thieves.

My Past, Present, and Future (Baekhyun)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Words: 5004

Request:  Can you please do a scenario where you and baekhyun are best friends,(but you have a secret crush on him) and you two became stranger after his debut. After 3 years, you two meet again as you got a job at SM. But for your bad fate he’s in love with someone. (at last he realiazed it was you he love).. I need a happy ending.. sorry for my bad english…

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this for the longest time, but I finally managed to get it done. There are some parts that I’m a little annoyed with, but it can’t be helped. I hope you enjoy.

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my adhd ass, all day, everyday
  • me: i forgot what I was just doing
  • me: what was i just thinking about
  • me: why did I walk into this room
  • me: why is this new tab open.......
  • me: why did I open the fridge???
  • me: i'm supposed to be doing something right now but I can't remember what
  • me: i lost something, i'm searching for it, but i can't remember what i'm searching for anymore
  • me: where's my phone
Dinner with a Stranger

Dinner with a Stranger
Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Warnings: mention of abuse, fluff
Word count: 1128
A/N: this has been rolling around in my head for most of the day, I just had to write it down! If there is interest, I’ll write another part and finish the story.

Originally posted by loptrlaufey

Y/N huffed her way down the street in London, more lost than she had ever been in her life. Nothing looked familiar, her phone was dead, and she had lost her map four turns ago, not that it was super helpful anyway. Turning down another row of houses, Y/N hoped to high heaven something would begin to look right. Her “alone-cation” wasn’t turning out so well. Behind her sunglasses, a few tears began to fall as she pushed herself to keep walking forward.

“Excuse me, are you alright?” a soft voice said from behind her. Turning quickly and stumbling, Y/N found her nose almost buried in a white button-up. Two strong hands grabbed her arms to steady her and then quickly released. Allowing her eyes to roam up the chest, she found a well shaped mouth, a thin nose, and concerned eyes of the most handsome man she had ever seen in real life.

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Massage Room (Ethan)

You sat quietly in the dimly lit massage room. Towels were rolled up neatly on the table, candles were lit, some nice plants were scattered about and all the oils were laid out on the table behind you. Since you had been stressed to the max at your new job, your wonderful friends thought it would be a great idea to treat you to a nice massage to try and ease some of the stress off of you.

Who were you kidding? Nothing could ease all the stress you were under. Being a first year intern had it’s ups and downs, you weren’t sure if you’d even survive to make it through the rest of the year. Everything nowadays was so cut throat and you just wanted to do your best to save your ass. Your friends couldn’t quite grasp that though.

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Now that I’ve gotten to hang out with the wonderful @stephrc79 in person, and let her read the paper copy of this first - here’s her brithday-also-yay-meeting-friends-in-person present! Pretty much just happy Stucky fluff, for a lovely person. <3


Steve watches Bucky sleep sometimes. Not all the time—for one thing, he’s aware it’s kind of creepy, and for another, Bucky seems to be able to feel eyes on him, that super-soldier prickling to awareness, an eyeblink to full alert. But sometimes.

Bucky in the early morning is beautiful, painted in shades of rose-gold and pale topaz and new dawn; he still isn’t convinced about the safety—Steve’s, that is—of himself starting the night right up against Steve but by morning ends up cuddled into shared warmth, tucked under an arm, and he always softens in sleep, soothed and safe, and Steve’s heart breaks all over again, yet another time, with love for this man.

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