why would you put this on the front page

not a crush

requested by: @tonight-couldbeforgettable

summaryYou and Peter are always in competition with one another to see who’s smart enough to come out on top. But once you get paired with your “enemy” for a large project, you find out that there’s way more to Peter Parker than meets the eye.

pairings: peter parker x reader 

word count: 1.7k 

a/n: this was the cutest shit to write y’all, i’m telling you. i missed writing fics with my precious peter in them. xx

You twirled your pen restlessly in between your fingers while listening intently for your chemistry teacher to announce who got the highest grade on the test last week. You had studied for hours, weeks on end, to come out on top of this one–you were not going to let Parker take it from you this time.

The two of you had all of your classes together, much to your dismay. You were always the best, always the smartest, until this semester started and this kid began giving you a run for your money. Every class became a contest to see who was better.

Your eyes flickered over to where he sat in the row next to you, and he was just as on edge as you were–his hands tightly gripped the edge of his desk. Before you could return your gaze to the front of the class, his eyes suddenly moved to meet yours.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I dont think MCU Tony realises he is werewolf AU's son now. He has no say in it he is THEIRS and they are going to spoil him and love him and send him cute dresses. Tony would be very confused by the dresses but they do look amazing so...

Lmao oh my God.

Howard: I’m just saying we could bring him here and he could be Tony’s big brother and it would be fine.

Maria: Jesus Christ his world needs him


Maria: *flails* You said he has a Rhodes!

Howard: Yes, they hurt him too.

bb!Tony: W-what? D: How–how could they hurt my friends???

Maria: Well now I have to kill them, Howard.


Rhodey: Delivery for Tony Stank lol

Tony: Are you ever going to let that go???

Rhodey: Lmao nah.

Tony: Aw it’s from Freakishly Protective Howard and Werewolf Maria. Aw! Little Tony sent me a drawing of him and me holding hands!

Rhodey: *has to struggle not to clutch chest, whispering* Fuck that’s cute.

Tony: … *checks the address* …Rhodey

Rhodey: ???

Tony: *holds up a red-polka-dotted summer dress* ???!??!!!!

Rhodey: …I mean. It would look good on you??

Tony: *scoffs* Of course it would. But why would they send it to me?

Rhodey: Holy shit Tones did you even notice that Little Tony drew you wearing a dress too or were you distracted by the hand-holding?

Tony: I though the was just terrible at drawing. Why… why would this fit me perfectly. Did Howard take my sizes at one point? What the fuck.

Rhodey: Wait it’ll actually fit you?? *lunges at him* PUT IT ON.


Natasha: *sipping tea* I saved the New York Times for you.

Steve: *suspicious* Thanks.

Natasha: I think you’ll find the front page very interesting.

Steve: *still suspicious, picks up paper* I don’t know what you’re planning, but–Oh my God.

Natasha: Yup.

Steve: Is this a dress? I mean–of course it’s a dress. On Tony. Oh. Oh my God.

Natasha: Twitter’s having a field day. I’m enjoying myself immensely.

Steve: *weakly* I… I can tell by the smile on your face.

Natasha: I’ll only judge you a little if you keep that. I will judge you more if I find it again.

Steve: *clutches paper, skuttles away in shame*

The Pumpkin Patch Network

The Pumpkin Patch Network is a network of some of the best and most dedicated Halloween blogs on Tumblr. I’m so excited to be able to start this mission to connect so many of the wonderful and amazing people running Halloween blogs here on Tumblr with each other and with anyone else looking for some great Halloween contact!

Who Can Join the Pumpkin Patch Network?

Anyone with a Halloween or Autumn/Halloween blog may join the Pumpkin Patch Network! Both year-round and seasonal blogs are welcome, but you must be truthful about which your blog is.

How Do I Join?

  • Please reblog this post to help spread the word and get as many people involved and connected as possible!
  • Send me an ask or a message telling me about why you want to be a part of the network and whether your blog is seasonal or year-round!

Following me or anyone else that is part of the network is not required, but it would be in the spirit of the network to follow everyone who is a part of it! You must be willing to put the network image/link somewhere visibly on the front page of your blog. Once you contact me I will give you the HTML code!

I look forward to connecting with and blogging alongside each and every one of you! Happy Halloween!

Low Battery. \\ c.t.h.

Word Count: 1,556 words

Frustrated? Yes. You were on the brink of a panic attack just watching your laptop’s battery dwindle down, the almost-completed essay due in exactly eleven minutes doing nothing to aid in your stress level. It wasn’t enough that any words that would normally flow right out of you, admittedly a bunch of bullshit but words to get those three pages completed nonetheless, but the world just had to bless you with a laptop that absolutely, positively hated you.

Sadly, you were yet another broke college kid who could already feel their bank account hating them just at the thought of buying another, newer laptop.

Lucky for you, you had come to the coffee shop well prepared with your laptop bag that just so happened to hold your charger in it. However, on the other hand, there was something a little more unlucky about the charger — it had to be plugged into an outlet. And, from what you could tell just by a quick glance around the place, the only one in sight was currently being used.

Your eyes nervously stared at the guy occupying the seat right beside it, slouched down in a chair and using his thumb to lazily slide it up the screen, scrolling through tons of things that you were absolutely, positively sure were far less important than the essay that might just make or break your grade.

To make matters worse, he was fucking hot.

Keep reading

"You're Irish"

“You’re Irish.”

Anti confusingly turned his head to his accomplice, Dark. The red-haired criminal sat at the foot of Anti’s bed, his laptop’s screen leaving Dark in its iridescent glow.

His companion, Anti, put down the book he was reading and sat up, moving slightly to rest his back on his bed’s head board.

“Pardon?” He asked, breaking the comfortable silence the two lingered in.

“You’re Irish,” Dark repeated. “Am I right?”

It took a moment for him a moment to process what his partner repeated, seeing as it was so out of the blue.

Once the words sunk in, Anti’s eyes widened. His heart began to beat faster, and his hands grew into fists. He suddenly felt as if he needed to run, or kill, or do.. something to escape the question.

No one was supposed to know that. Not even Dark. How did he find out? Was he a spy this whole time? Why confront him now? If he needed to kill him, he could’ve easily done that while he was asleep. How the fuck did he-

“Greenie? You okay?”

His partner’s soothing voice broke his thoughts. He took a deep breath and collected himself.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“You kinda.. Froze for a second.” His half-blind friend paused, his brows furrowing slightly. “Is there something you mind telling me?”

“No. End of discussion.” Anti was quick to grab his book from his bedside table and focus back on the page.

He tried to think back to every conversation that they had. Did he accidentally let slip about his origins? Of course not. He would never be that sloppy. Maybe his accent showed? He doesn’t remember. By all means, he’s trained himself to talk like an American ever since..

Anti got lost in his thoughts, his focus barely on the page in front of him.

“Anti.” Dark put his laptop beside him and reached his hand out to gently take the book out of his partner’s hand. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge.”

“I know you wont, but it’s not like that,” he said monotonously.

“Then why not tell me?”

No reply. The green-haired man just shifted further away from his companion on the bed.


Still no answer.

“Look. I told you everything about me. Every time you asked, I answered without hesitation. We’ve been partners in crime for what- two years now? And I barely know anything about you.” Dark moved closer to his companion, making him curl up against the headboard.

“So maybe,” he said softly, “maybe you could start opening up? To me at least.”

‘He has a point there,’ his thoughts said to him.

'Shut up, will you? Leave me alone to think,’ he said back.

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Dark did have a point. Anti was quite the curious little thing, always asking questions without clear reason. With Dark, he honestly thought that the red-haired man would call him out on it- hell, he thought that he’d leave him after the first few weeks.. but he stayed. Not just for a few weeks like they originally planned, but for longer. Much, much longer. Look at them. Two criminals with trust issues a two years later, living with each other, killing side by side, and watching each other’s backs.

It takes Anti a moment to process it all.

However, one question rang in his mind in that moment: “Why.”

Why did Dark stay. It was him who first suggested that, 'A month. I’ll watch your back for one month if you get me out of here.’ But after the final day came, he stayed. He didn’t even bring up the subject of leaving. In fact, neither of them did.

Silence lingered in the warehouse for a few moments, before a soft sigh coming from Anti’s lips broke it.

“How did you know?” He asked, relaxing his tense posture. “Rather.. How did you find out.”

He saw Dark reach for his laptop, grabbing it and flipping it towards him. He seemed to be reading an outdated news article.

'Relentless killer escapes Irish facility. 30 casualties.’

Anti flinched as he read the title. Memories of the day bombarded his mind. Scenes that he repressed long ago came flooding back.

“The government was supposed to wipe out all evidence of that.” He said through gritted teeth. “Where did you find this?”

“I did some digging.” Dark closed the laptop’s screen, placing it to the side as he moved closer to his companion.

“It cannot be that simple. Especially with you.” His tone was.. confusing. It sounded as if he was defeated- vulnerable, even. There was even a bit of fear that leaked into his sentence. Was he afraid of this conversation? For how long?

“Of course it wasn’t that simple.” Dark moved closer so that he was sitting right next to him, his back leaning on the headboard. “Last night, when you killed.. what was her name?”

“Aubrey Dentrid.”

“Yeah, her. You got carried away and I heard a bit of an Irish accent while you were mocking her.. y'know, before you landed the final blow.”


He took a breath. “And, I got curious. So, I tried to find out more. I searched for any mass murders in Ireland in the past five years- and nothing. Well, nothing that fit your profile.”

He glanced over at his companion. Anti’s gaze was fixated on the floor beside the bed. His arms wrapped around him in a position similar to a straight jacket.

Dark sighed, but continued.

“But I remembered what you said when you first met me: 'I’ve been doing this for seven years. What you’ve done is nothing compared to me.’ So I searched again. 'Mass murders in Ireland in the past ten years’ instead. There was a few.”

Anti scoffed, “I bet there are.”

“And then I remember seeing the bar code at the back of your left ear. It has the initials, 'I.U.F’. So I dug around and found a single article by an underground online newspaper regarding the massacre in the Ireland Underground Facility.”

“Hey Greenie, I’m busting for a piss right now. Are you done?” Dark asked, banging the bathroom door with his fist.

“Yeah, just drying up. The door’s unlocked; Come in.”

Dark smiled. 'About fucking time,“ he thought.

He turned the door knob and pushed the wooden door open. The first thing he saw was his companion half naked with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

To most people, this is a sight you’d kill for- both metaphorically and literally. To even dream of getting so close to the mass murderer as to see his pale, well-built torso, you’d have to commit a decent amount of murders to earn the criminal’s trust.

Seeing as they’ve lived together for a few months now and shared one bathroom, Dark was used to this. Sure, he hasn’t seen Anti fully naked, but the point still stands.

Anti trusted Dark to a certain degree, and Dark trusted Anti completely.

Dark casually entered the small bathroom, already undoing his zipper as he walked over to the toilet.

As he began to do his business, he glanced over to his relatively recent partner in crime. He had his head buried in a towel, his hands aggressively rubbing the towel into his green hair.

Then Dark spotted something.

Usually, Anti swept his hair to the left, causing it to cover his ear. However, this was the first time he’s actually seen his left ear.

It was pointed just like his other ear, but a bit of it near the top was cut off, like something was torn out of the skin.

Anti turned slightly to his right to dry the ear, giving his companion an opportunity to see the back of it.

In what looked like faded ink read, 'I.U.F’ followed by a a series of thin and thick lines.

”..Barcode,“ he said aloud.

"Pardon?” His accomplice turned around, hands still ruffling the towel against his head.

“Oh nothing, just..”

“Getting too into yer- your own head again?”

“Yeah.. yeah.” The red-haired man was quick to focus back on what he was supposed to be doing.

They settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, only the faint noise of a ruffling towel and a flush of the toilet followed after.

“And here we are.”

“Here we are.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Anti didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked content to just leave the conversation there.

The half-blind man cleared his throat. “So?”

“So what?”

“Are you?”

Dark tried to look his companion straight in the eye, but all the green-haired criminal would have non of that; Anti looked away.

He’d never seen him like this. Anti was usually the overly-confident, cocky, intelligent, precise killer who always knew what to say.

But now, he just looks like a scared boy.

Dark saw his companion take a deep breath in, his hands firmly placed on his knees. Anti’s face fell stoic. Like, the kind of face you’d see on a soldier after a battle. The expression of 'Ive been through some shit’ glazed over his entire facade. He sat up straight, hands tightly clasping his knees.

“…Greenie?” Dark asked, cautiously. A little spark of fear ignited at the back of his head. Had he gone too far? Did he strike something that should have been left to rot? Would Anti kill him right there and then? Despite Dark having the bigger build, Anti was quicker, more precise. Oh god he really messed up-

“Ah sher jaysus, ya fookin got me! That’s mah-ty fierce, laddie!” Anti’s usually serious and annoyed facade faded into this goofy, fucking hilarious side that Dark has never dreamed of seeing. The lips, that he was so used to seeing either with a sickly menacing grin or no expression at all, were curved up to his cheeks, forming the goofiest grin he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Ya look like yer about to get a baytin! Alright there, lad?” His Irish accent was exaggeratedly thick, his hands swung back and forth like those stereotypical leprechauns you see on tv.

The shift was so sudden and out of no where Dark was at a loss for words. All he could manage to do was leave is mouth gaping with a pointer finger up as if asking a question.

Anti chuckled softly, “Come on, Dark. I’m trying to be funny,” Anti said, a smile etched on his lips. He still had an Irish accent but it seemed more relaxed and.. casual? He would never associate the words 'Anti’ and 'casual’ ever before. But now.. It seemed right. Like the wall he was trying to see pass for months finally crumbled away.

“Dark?” Dear god the way his voice curved over the 'ar’. It felt so.. natural to hear.

“Hey, are you okay? Is this too much?” Anti, for the first time in so long, sounded scared.. insecure, even. “Come on man, I’m feelin’ a bit vulnerable right now-”

“Holy fucking shit.”


“Holy fucking shit!”

“Did I.. do something wrong?”

“Holy! Fucking! Shit!”

“Jesus, okay. Let’s just forget that this ever happened and go back to what I was before-”

Dark suddenly lunged towards Anti, their faces inches away from each other.

“Don’t you dare even think about putting up that wall ever again.”

“W-wall? What are you-”

“You actually sounded comfortable with me for once!” A genuine smile grew on the the red-haired criminal’s face. “If this is the real you, then jesus christ I do not want you going back to the stuck up, constantly frustrated bossy asshole facade you put up.”

“..You knew it was a facade?”

Dark sighed. “I spent years in a mental asylum, Greenie. I’m pretty good at figuring out if people are lying about themselves.”


“Oh indeed.”

Silence lingered over the two of them for. It wasn’t tension or comfortable. It was more or less because neither of the two knew what to say next.

The silence was broken by a slight chuckle from Dark’s lips.

“What so funny?” Anti asked, still talking in his native accent.

“I think that’s the first time you ever sounded human.”


'He said 'human’.’

'He called you, the labrat, 'human’.’

“Anti, you alright- oof, okay.” Before Dark knew it, Anti- the cold-hearted killer, mass murderer of thousands, the anonymous hired gun- was hugging him. He was taken aback.


“You don’t know how much that means to me.” His voice was quiet and genuine.

“O-Oh. Okay, uh.. Your welcome?” He awkwardly hugged back.

The two just stayed there for a few moments, embracing each other as if the other was the only anchor each of them had to reality.

They have hugged before, like the time Dark had to shield Anti from shrapnel, or the time Anti held him as they both fell from a crashing helicopter into the sea, but this time.. It was like they haven’t met before. This was not a red-haired, half-blind, mental asylum escapee, man-for-hire holding a green-haired, serial killer, mass-murderer, lab-experiment-gone-wrong. This was a concerned, caring man accepting his insecure, vulnerable friend.

When they finally released the other, Dark saw something that he swore will never forget.

Anti was crying.

“Oh my god, Greenie. Are you-”

“Yeah yeah. I am.” He laughed, but it came out as a choke. “God, I must look disgusting,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“No no, you look fine.” He said in an attempt to reassure him. “But I have to ask.. Why are you crying?”

A million responses filled Anti’s head. He could say it was because he finally trusts Dark, or because he’s was so sick of keeping up a wall of false identity up, or that he finally felt free. Maybe it was he felt so vulnerable to the point of tears or because someone knows his past. Maybe it was because a giant burden was finally lifted. Maybe it was because he realized that Dark accepted him.

Anti smiled and looked him straight in the eye.

“I feel human.”

anonymous asked:

Why do you think Paul always uses the excuse "oh if John was gay I would of known about it" or "he would of made a move on me"

since he knows that the homophobic media refers to john’s homosexuality/bisexuality as something scandalous and offensive, juicy stuff to put on the front page to sell money, he has to defend him, but he never forgets to mention them that even in their little stupid homophobic world, if John Lennon was gay, the first thing he would do would be Paul McCartney.

Exclusive Interview: Dustin Lance Black (and his husband Tom Daley) in Paris!

It was just before their surprise wedding, on May 8th: TÊTU met the director Dustin Lance Black and his fiancé, the diver Tom Daley.

Dustin Lance Black was the surprise guest of the Mania series in Paris. The filmmaker, Oscar winner in 2008 for the screenplay of Harvey Milk , came to defend When We Rise , his mini-series tracing 40 years of LGBT activism in the United States from the early 1970s to the present. On this occasion, TÊTU met exclusively the 42-year-old filmmaker to discuss his series, of course, but also the future of militancy and his next projects. While at her side, her husband, British Olympic diver Tom Daley, was watching …

TÊTU: Your series When We Rise is aimed at an audience that knows nothing about the LGBT movement but about homosexuals, right?

Dustin Lance Black: Together! The show has been designed for a large audience but LGBTQ community members do not know much about their own story! That’s why I said yes to ABC. In recent years, I have received several proposals from other networks to work on similar projects. We would surely have had more money, more time, but in the end we would have preached converts! We would have addressed a public already sensitized. For ABC, it was necessary to build a series that people who are not from the LGBT community are able to understand. That’s why When We Rise does not start with LGBT activism, but with young people who campaign in feminist movements, for peace or for civil rights …

You were not afraid that ABC, Disney’s chain, would water down the series?

DLB: I wanted to work with them! I heard a rumor that they were trying to develop a project around LGBT issues. I asked to meet with the leaders of the chain to see if they were serious. When I realized they were, I told them “I’m going to need a year of research,” which is very long for them. They said “no problem”. It was inspiring because ABC was the only channel I had the right to watch when I was a kid. I grew up in a Southern family: Conservative, Military and Mormon. ABC was the only channel my mother let me watch because it is a family network. This show is the opportunity to touch children who, like me younger, may feel alone in the world. It is even the only reason to do it! You know, Nobody makes money with this kind of project. If you do this job for big checks, go write movies where the guys wear capes!

You started working on When We Rise long before the election of Donald Trump and yet the series resonates terribly with what is happening today in the United States. Or with what could happen in France …

DLB: Or in the UK with the Brexit! (He turns to Tom Daley) It’s your fault Tom, you started this bullshit!

Tom Daley: I know! (Laughter)

DLB: More seriously, I started writing the series four years ago. At that time, we were experiencing a very progressive and exciting time in the United States in the evolution of LGBT rights. And already at the time, I was afraid. Fear because we, the people of diversity, had lost our connection to each other. Yet there was a time when we were all in solidarity. Not only the LGBTQ, but also people who pray for another god, people from other countries, people whose skin color was different, workers … But we ended up dividing. Thunderstruck by our own struggles. We have forgotten that we must also fight for our brothers, for our neighbors, as well as for us. To say that is not politically correct. It’s being smart! If minorities do not work together then we will be easily defeated! My series puts forward several ideas, but one of the most important is that each of us on this planet, in your country as in mine, we are part of a minority. It only depends on how you divide the cake. What you can snatch from your neighbor, you can get him out tomorrow. No one is a majority. This is what When We Rise is talking about , though it is seen by the LGBTQ prism in the United States, but we can also make a comparison with the struggles of diversity here in France or England. We are part of a minority. It only depends on how you divide the cake. What you can snatch from your neighbor, you can get him out tomorrow. No one is a majority. This is what When We Rise is talking about , though it is seen by the LGBTQ prism in the United States, but we can also make a comparison with the struggles of diversity here in France or England. We are part of a minority. It only depends on how you divide the cake. What you can snatch from your neighbor, you can get him out tomorrow. No one is a majority. This is what When We Rise is talking about , though it is seen by the LGBTQ prism in the United States, but we can also make a comparison with the struggles of diversity here in France or England.

Condensing 40 years of LGBT history in 7 episodes is a real challenge …

DLB: And if we remove the ads, there is only 6 hours of program! I have a lot of rushes, maybe one day I would make a director’s cut! (Laughs) But there are tricks to get by. The first is to be very strategic and very determined on the story we want to tell. The challenge is not to tell the life of every person in the LGBT movement, only a handful of them who created a family in San Francisco to survive homophobia. It is their history, their perceptual. There are other LGBTQ heroes whose lives have not yet been told, many struggles that have never been described. I heard the frustrations of LGBT people telling me “you have not talked about this person! From this place ! Of this struggle! Instead of annoying me, it made me very happy. I said to myself, "Okay, I laid a frame, your turn to tell these lives! People begin to understand the power of history. This is something we have not had so far in the LGBT movement: a popularized and easily accessible story.

Can we see your series as a response to Stonewall , the film by Roland Emmerich, to whom many have criticized taking too much freedom with the reality of the riots in New York?

DLB: Let me tell you one thing: Roland is my friend. He has donated a lot of money to a number of causes, particularly in favor of LGBTQ youth in Los Angeles. He saved heaps of lives and I love him. So I may not be the right person to ask this question … He made me read a version of his script and I told him what I thought. When I was researching When We Rise , I had interviewed Stonewall survivors. Two have since died. I sent the recordings to him and said, "These interviews are yours. You can do whatever you want. In a way, I see how he got closer to what I sent him but I also see how he got away from it … But in the end, it’s his film. I often tell my film students, When it comes to writing about a true story: each filmmaker must decide how much he wants to twist the truth before filming. I want to twist it as little as possible.

Is that why you want the activists whose lives you depict to be consultants on the series?

DLB: I try, as far as possible, to interview myself the people who have lived the things I want to tell. I do not like to rely on books or interviews. Interviews are often edited and a book is always the point of view of its author. When I write, I want to come closer to the truth to create an essential story. For opponents of equality will always try to say: "None of this has happened! And I refuse to give them that power. Even before the series was broadcast, American ultra-conservatives were already saying "this is all wrong! I was able to answer them: "The people who have lived through these events are there to tell you that everything is true. You will not snatch our history from us! ”

You wrote Harvey Milk , J. Edgar , Part 8 , Now When We Rise … Are you the one-man man: LGBT history?

DLB: I started as a screenwriter for series like Big Love , where I was mainly talking about my Mormon education. I’ve also produced, Prophet’s Prey , a documentary about the Mormon Church and I will soon begin a mini series with Ron Howard, Under the banner of Heaven . This is another side of me, which has nothing to do with my homosexuality but it remains related to my experience. To be an artist is to be endowed with a history. The more complicated the better! (Laughs) And the more one puts oneself in a narrative, the more it becomes universal. For example, at this time,

Why are you looking at Tom?

DLB: Because Tom is the symbol of romance! (he smiles)

TD: And I’m the star of his film!

DLB: Do not say that, it’s going to make the front page of all the English tabloids! I would like to make this film next fall. And I also work on a biopic by Byron Rustin (a close adviser to Martin Luther King), who was also gay, for HBO. There is so much to tell because LGBT history has been buried for so long. Women’s movements or for racial equality have had the right to films! And it gives people inspiration. Thanks to them, they feel less isolated. All this work has not taken place on LGBT history. Forty years ago, in the United States, you were at risk of electroshock, lobotomy or prison treatment just for writing this story. We lost time because at the time, to do what I do today, the price to pay was too high. And if my mission is to rectify that,

When We Rise episodes are available on Canal Plus Series

Harry’s brows knitted together in concentration as he continued to tick things off of his ‘Christmas clean-up’ list, flipping the red pen in between his fingers as he counted all the things that had yet to be put away. Sure, putting up the Christmas decorations was fun, but it just wouldn’t be right to be celebrating the New Years with a Christmas tree in the background! 

“Why can’t we leave them up till the end of the week?” You whined, unhooking the bauble from its place and dropping it into its designated box. (Harry had labelled all the cardboard boxes to ensure organization.) 

“Procrastination is going to take over, tha’s why. And don’ drop the baubles, Y/N, you might risk smash-” Harry didn’t get a chance to finish his little scold before he heard a clatter and turned to see one of the baubles shattered into tiny little pieces on the ground. He let out a small sigh and shook his head, crossing something out on his papers. “Never mind. Nia-” 

“Yeah, I got it, I got it.” Niall grumbled, bending down and sweeping the pieces of glass into his little dustpan. “I could be enjoying breakfast right now, but yer boyfriend has t’ pack everythin’ up immediately after Christmas.” 

“Sorry, Niall.” You laughed lightly, glancing over at Harry. He had always been a bit of a grouch when things weren’t organized, but at the end of the day, you had to be grateful. If you were in charge of the Christmas clean-up, the decorations would never disappear. 

“What’s next on your list? I’ve folded the stockings and put them away in their boxes.” Liam walked into the living room, dusting his hands off before looking at Harry expectantly. 

“Did yeh organize the stockings alphabetically?” 

“….I’ll be back.” Liam cleared his throat, walking back to re-organize the stockings. 

“Harry, don’t be such a grump.” You rolled your eyes, continuing to tend to the smaller decorations. (Harry didn’t want you to break anything else so he put Louis in charge of the tree.)

“I’m not being a grump. I jus’ want this house to be appropriately decorated when we have our New Years party.” Harry pursed his lips, licking his finger before flipping to the next page on his clipboard. 

“Hey, look what I found!” You grinned, padding over to Harry and standing in front of him before raising a scrubby little tuft of mistletoe above his head. Harry glanced up before looking down at you, unimpressed. 

“Why would you want t’ kiss someone under a parasitic plant? I don’ see the appeal, and I can think of a million things that are more romantic than kissing someone underneath-” 

“Just kiss me, you silly goose.” 


gif isn’t mine!

A Little Too Late Part 15

gif is not mine

Title: A Little Too Late Part 15

Characters: Gabriel x Reader, Sam, Dean, Castiel, Balthazar

Word Count: 1,012

Warnings: angst

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow American followers! If you’re seeing this, that means the queque worked! So here is PART 15! I hope you all enjoy this part!! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Soon Castiel, Balthazar, and Gabriel huddled around the three of you, reading the page you freaked out over.  You were worried that you had been overreacting.  However reading something like that both surprised and scared you.  You walked away from the group of men to sit down at the table farthest from them.  You rubbed your face in your hands.

Gabriel came up behind you, rubbing your shoulders with his hands.  The archangel pressed a kiss to your cheek.  He knew this had to be stressful for you.  It wasn’t every day that someone finds out they’re this special creation.  “I know this is all knew for you [Y/N].  You said we were doing this together, so that’s what we’re gonna do,” Gabriel promised.

Keep reading

mutual(s) pining

a work brought to you by bunfox productions, aka yours truly and @lesbianremus! you can also read it on ao3, right here. big thanks to the lovely @nachodiablo who looked it over for us!

this is a prompt fill for the weekly prompt at @introvert-club. this week it was “internet crush”. anyone is welcome to participate, and use the tag #wolfstar introvert prompt for us to see! enjoy :) 

Some days, scrolling Tumblr is pretty boring. A flower, a transparent backpack, a dejected joke about depression, a dead Soundcloud link, nothing to inspire. Sirius is hunched over their laptop, watching the screen with their chin resting on their hand. A long discourse post they can’t be arsed to read, gifs from a show they don’t watch, and then.

Inspiration strikes.

It strikes in the form of two selfies. The person in them is standing in a sunny garden, curls spilling out from under a snapback, and smiling with their eyes closed. You can see lilacs blooming in the background. The person has freckles and a t-shirt with a whale on it, featuring the text “I’m a little overWHALEmed”. Same, Sirius thinks.

They click follow without even looking at the blog.

Keep reading

BIGBANG Reactions to You Being Jealous


You stared at the front of the magazine. You didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t. You never believed in the stories the media had conjured up knowing that most of the stories were baseless and mostly fabricated to draw in readers. Even now, it wasn’t the headline that had caught your eye, but the picture of the girl holding your boyfriend’s arm as if she was his girlfriend, not you.

It hurt. It hurt like a bitch. They both seemed to be perfectly content walking together, him not even seemingly concerned with the way she was possessively holding his arm. You knew that the tabloids liked to take things out of proportion but you couldn’t deny the sting you felt when you realized they had photographic evidence of the two of them together. You drew your attention towards the headline, “BIGBANG’s Taeyang Caught Cheating?!?”, and, in a smaller font, “(see more photos inside)”.

Desperately, you flipped through the pages of the magazine to locate the page number that was listed on the front.

It was right there. There was no denying the fact that it was your boyfriend in all the pictures. You tore your eyes off the magazine, unable to look any longer. Why did you even look in the first place? You had already seen the cover and knew that more photos would only hurt you more. Were you hoping that it would say “April Fools! Just a prank lol” even though it was in the middle of fall with April months away?

You put down the magazine. You knew that you shouldn’t trust the tabloids but you couldn’t help the jealousy pulsing through your veins every time you imagined Hyorin clinging onto your boyfriend. Chances were that the pictures were completely harmless and meant nothing but that didn’t stop you from envisioning Youngbae enjoying all the time he spent with her, and not you.

Why am I being so irrational? Youngbae’s a great boyfriend. He’d never do something like that… right?

It wasn’t until later that night that Youngbae finally texted you.

Hey babe. Sorry I couldn’t talk a lot today, I got hung up at the studio.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he used being at the studio as a coverup for hanging out with her. Not trusting yourself to respond without sounding snide, you chose to pretend you were asleep and ignored his message, eventually actually falling asleep.

“Y/N is such a bitch.”

Hyorin leaned onto your boyfriend as they walked together down the street. Youngbae didn’t even bat an eyelash at the mention of your name.

“She’s not even pretty. You deserve someone a lot prettier than her, Youngbae,” Hyorin said as she flirtatiously glanced up at him.

“I think you’re pretty, Hyorin.”

You felt a pang in your chest but you couldn’t look away from the scene unfolding before you. They were both making their way towards you, but they were so enraptured by the other that they hadn’t noticed you yet.

As they got closer, Youngbae smiled fondly at Hyorin, completely oblivious to your presence as they walked hand-in-hand past you. He leaned down and pecked her on the cheek.

Just as they had passed you, Hyorin looked over her shoulder and gave you a smile that you could only compare to that of a snake that had captured its prey. You continued to watch as Youngbae looked at her with a gaze full of affection, not tearing his eyes off of the snake for a second.

You couldn’t remember the dream you had when you woke up, but it left you feeling like crap afterwards. You heard your phone go off but you weren’t in any mood to answer so allowed it to ring until the person calling hung up. You flipped yourself so you were laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Finally deciding to check who had been calling, you rolled over to pick up your phone, only to see Youngbae’s name flash across the screen along with three texts.

Good morning, beautiful! I hope you have an amazing day :*

Hey, are you busy today? There’s a new restaurant that opened up and I have connections to get us in :P

Uhm babe? Are you still sleeping?

Reading his texts, your mind instantly recollected what you had seen in the magazine yesterday. You knew it was illogical, but that didn’t stop you from quickly typing a quip back at Youngbae.

Jeez, maybe you should ask your new girlfriend? It seemed like you liked hanging out with her more than me anyway.

You put your phone on silent. Aggravated after having just woken up, you let out a sound of annoyance before throwing your phone back in your bed and getting yourself settled in for a night in with yourself.

You had been in the middle of the second season of Friends when a knock sounded on your door. “God, whoever that is better have a good reason as to why they’re interrupting Russ and Ross having a conversation,” you mumbled as you went to open the door. Swinging open the door, you found yourself face-to-face with a slightly disheveled Youngbae.

“Y/N, why haven’t you been picking up your phone?”

“Well hello to you too,” you muttered, annoyed at having been interrupted by Youngbae.

“No, Y/N, seriously. I’ve been trying to call you all day. Where’s your phone?”

You glanced around before remembering where you had left it. Trudging your way to your bedroom, you snatched it off your covers before making your way back to where your boyfriend was still standing awkwardly at the door.

“Right here. Is that all? Will you leave me alone now?”

You saw hurt flash in Youngbae’s eyes before quickly being replaced by something that seemed slightly frantic.

“Y/N, can I come in? I feel like we need to talk.”

“No, there isn’t. You found yourself a new girl. You don’t want me anymore so I’ll just see myself out of your life,” you said as you made a move to close the door.

Acting quickly, Youngbae pushed back open the door and took a step inside. “Y/N, don’t be stupid. You-”

“Oh, so now I’m stupid, huh?” You felt your eyes brimming with tears of frustration but you continued on. “You’re right, Youngbae, I was stupid. I was stupid to put my complete and utter faith in you. I was stupid to trust you. I was stupid to believe you loved me. I was stupid to think I was the only one in your life. And, most of all, I was stupid to love you.” A tear escaped you but you made no move to wipe it off your face. A traitor, just like the person in front of me.

There was no denying the pain on Youngbae’s face. Despite everything, you couldn’t bear to see that look on his face. You turned away, angrily swiping at your face to rid of the tears that continued to betray you.

“I think it would be the best for the both of us if you would just leave.”

There was a pause before you heard the door click softly shut. You collapsed to the ground, fully succumbing to the sobs that wracked your entire body. Within moments you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind.

“Y/N… please stop crying… just let me explain, please…” he choked out in a whisper in your ear. Not trusting yourself to respond and tiring of the games he was playing with you, you quietened your sobs and waited for him to continue. He pried himself off of you once he noticed you were waiting for him to begin.

“Y/N, I swear she’s nothing to me. I had been out at the mall and I went to go grab lunch when I bumped into her. I had only greeted her since this was the first time I had met her when she invited me to go grab something to eat. I wasn’t going to be rude and turn her down so I agreed. Those damn paparazzi probably took pictures when she was leading me to the cafe she wanted to go eat at. I swear, if you don’t believe me I can track down her number and you can call her. Please Y/N, please trust me that I’m telling you the truth.”

You still hadn’t turned around to face him, taking a minute to let his words sink in.

Sniffling, you asked “Wait, y-you don’t even h-have her number?”

“What? Of course not! I barely know her.”

You giggled a little. How had you come to be so jealous of someone who didn’t even have his number? Slowly, you rose from the floor and turned to face him. His eyes were searching your face for a confirmation that you believed his side of the story. That you believed in him.

You took a few steps towards him before throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“I was so stupid. Why would I trust tabloids over my own boyfriend?” you mumbled into his chest. “Do you think you could forgive me for being so irrational?”

“Babe, for you, anything.”

| T.O.P | Taeyang | G-Dragon | Daesung | Seungri |


Months after I posted T.O.P’s, the next member is finally out! I hope you guys like it!!!

~Admin K(onstantly thirsting)


If you only knew how shy I am

Robert Pattinson has captivated millions of ladies’ heart all around the world. Which he is still surprised about.

(This is one of those interviews Rob did at Cannes in May, with a French magazine, La Dernière Heure. There was a rough translation by Laura at RPWW, which I have cleaned up here. We’ve heard most of this stuff before, there are a few new bits, but as usual with some translated material, it’s good to take it with a grain of salt.)

In ‘Good Time’ by Joshua & Ben Safdie, Robert Pattinson is a loser who tries to find money to bail his disabled brother out of jail. Taking place in New York’s seedy underside, the sexy Brit did not hesitate to make himself ugly for the role. Ten years after the first Twilight movie, the ex-vampire reflects on his path, his life, his fans, women, his passion for Japanese toilets and just for us… his incredible hair style!

Nowadays, you’re a known and well-known actor. What do you miss the most since you’ve reached this level of notoriety?

Just being able to travel without it being for movie promotion or work obligations. Without me representing a project. It must have been ten years since I took a break! But the only person responsible for that is me. There’s still a part of my brain that pushes me to not take a break, to always read, looking for a good script. I tell myself: ‘Don’t say no! You could risk missing an opportunity that may never come back.’

Do you think there’s a place on earth where people don’t know Robert Pattinson?

One day, I had the occasion, while on a short break, to drive through New Mexico and Arizona’s deserts. I found myself in the middle of nowhere and I crossed path with people who probably did not have any phones at home! When they saw me arrive there, I felt like I was a stranger who just upset their daily routine. As I did not see them react to me or try to socialize with me, I did not see myself telling them ‘Hey! I am Robert! I’ve played a vampire once!’ (laughs)

Right, let’s go back in time then. Twilight on screen, it was ten years ago. They say when you auditioned for it you were about to stop acting…

I was in London when they made me an offer from Hollywood. It’s true, I was getting bored as an actor. I thought I had seen enough. So I invested myself in music thinking acting was behind me. Until one of my agents, based in the states, called me and talked to me about ‘Twilight.’ She had tried to convince me for hours to audition. I finally agreed without hoping to get anything. When I think about it, I was so casual, so relaxed, that I still wonder ‘how I did to get the job?’ (laughs)

But you admit the end of ‘Twilight’ was like a liberation for you?

Don’t be mistaken, I had fun being Edward Cullen. He was a character who was rich, complex, mysterious and with many different facets. We could have exploited the vein for a long time. Though in the end, I am not sure fans would have liked that. Nevertheless, there’s one thing I would never regret–leaving behind, those f***ing contacts and the white make-up which started to block my pores. I also admit I have never been able to get used to the ‘Twilight’ mums, you know, those housewives, often around 40s, who scream loudly as soon as you wave at them!

Overall, how did you manage this hyper celebrity?

Celebrity does not bother me, it’s more the way we are perceived as actors. You must stop believing that when I go home, all the doorknobs are in gold and that I pay someone to be sure my bath is at the right temperature. When I played Cedric Diggory in ‘Harry Potter,’ I experienced some hysterical scenes with group of fans which were crazy. To get a kiss, some hair, a piece of my shirt or something I owned, some fans would go batshit.

And what were the craziest fan requests you had to experience until now?

More than proposals or my personal phone number, some requests are really original. I will never forget this little girl in the middle of a New York shop, who just implored with me to bite her jugular! When I told her I was not a vampire she just said ‘Then prove it!’ (laughs)

You’re still overexposed to that all. How do you feel being seen as a sex-symbol?

Personally I find it kinda unhealthy to be perceived that way by 14 year old girls! This sex-symbol stuff is not something I control. And I would like to know their criteria. Who votes? How? On which conditions? They could just select it by eenie-meenie! (laughs)

Waiting for that, even on social media we don’t find a lot about your desire to be married. As if you could not share this happiness with us all!

Recently someone asked me why I did not like to talk about my private life. I answered this person that I was being interviewed to promote my movies and not to put my private life on the front page. I have always thought that talking about my personal life would just make it all about little old me.

In your opinion what is the biggest mistake people make when describing Robert Pattinson?

It’s when someone writes that I am a ladies’ man, a heartthrob. I am flabbergasted. If only you knew how shy I am! I have always had a hard time charming girls. I am awkward, I splutter, I don’t know where to start!

Did you live a love story which ate at you on the Inside?

Yes! I was 14 when I wrote about a girl I crossed paths with and who I was obsessed with in my diary. For ten years I wrote pages and pages about this beauty that I absolutely idealized but I have never talked to her!

Did the way people who knew you before becoming this improbable hairstyle phenomenon change?

Those who knew me from childhood, no. But there were people who did not speak to me when I was trying to be an actor and now they ask me to invite them to premieres. I was also beaten a lot at school because I was sensitive. Because I was different. Some days they stole my shoelaces. Another day they would throw mashed potatoes in my backpack. I was a pariah for some. I just learned to take a step back and not think about this painful time. And about success, I try not to change my life style. I still have the same apartment and when I see the state of my refrigerator, all rickety, I tell myself that I really need to change it!

In ‘Good Time’ you are unrecognizable. Beard, questionable hygiene, aren’t you afraid to disappoint young girls who have posters of you all over their walls?

I think it is a come back to basics. You know, before being Edward in ‘Twilight,’ I did not play good looking guys. The problem is, once you have been labeled, as soon as you change from what people discovered you in and liked you in, they just don’t understand why you are changing! How many times in my life, have I walked in the streets, with a not so fresh look and with not so clean clothes! We have to admit that there’s a loss of objective perception. Cinema is a media so powerful, it just catches the eye and make us not aware of what is the reality anymore.

How did you get into this ‘underground’ character?

I asked to be left alone for several weeks. I wanted to do this immersive job by myself. Without help from outside. You would not play this lost guy, burnt out if during the filming you live in a palace or a comfy trailer! For this role I lived in a building’s cellar in Harlem! This place was sordid. I took care to never open the curtains, I was constantly in the dark. So my complexion was instantly pale.

It’s truly disgusting what you are telling us right now…

Wait! It’s not the end of it. I’ve never changed the linens and I slept in my clothes. (laughs) For the little anecdote, the tenant who lived upstairs did not even know what was happening under her feet. For her, there was no doubts, I was a weird guy doing non catholic things in a cellar!

Is it true you offered $10,000 toilets because you lost a bet to Josh, one of the directors?

True! I have to explain how it happened. Six months before the Cannes Festival, Josh came to my house in Los Angeles. At some point he asked me to point out the restrooms. You must know I did point that out! (laughs). When he came back he was just so happy because he experienced my Toto.

Er… Who is Toto?

That’s the brand of my Japanese toilets. Wonderful ones. This is not the place to talk about it but those toilets have plenty of electronics. It was the first time warm air was blown on Josh’s backside. He must have loved it because he was really interested. So at some point I told Josh that I would send him a Toto if the movie made it into competition at Cannes. As it was included in the competition, I sent Josh the toilet.

In ‘Good Time’ your character Connie has a strange relationship with the character played by Jennifer Jason Leigh. He tries for example to get money from her.  We were wondering if Rob Pattinson has already done that with one of his girlfriends?

It probably happened at some point in my life. A time when I was broke and didn’t know how to make ends meet. The only difference is that Connie is really insistent in his approach. Saying this, a few years ago, I filmed a movie called ‘Bel Ami.’ That character was much worse, as he was sleeping with women to steal their money.

More writing tips: on inspiration management

Most of the writers and artists I talk to have a million ideas. In my experience, we all have way more ideas than time and energy to write them. I personally curate these ideas like they’re some kind of sapling hoard and since people seemed to enjoy my previous little guide on getting actual text on paper, here’s some suggestions on how you could do that.

Jot them down

Originally posted by mobpsycho100

Not sure if it’s like this with everyone, but I get a lot of friggin ideas, and they get IN THE WAY. It’s like those fat flies that crawl into your house and occasionally buzz by to bug you. It’s frankly impossible to concentrate while one is flying around, so I try to write them down fairly fast. That way at least, they’re quiet for a while and don’t clutter up your brain while you’re trying to concentrate on something else.
You can write these down pretty much everywhere. Mine show up in Skype messages, in Evernote, in notes on my phone, in the document on my laptop helpfully called ‘Ideas’, whatever I have handy.
That way, they’re nice and ready, waiting for you when you have time and energy to do something with them.

Perform triage

Originally posted by mobpsycho100

Look, not every idea you get is gonna be great. Or even workable. It’s ok.
That’s why we have more.
Every news room in the world has a meeting or list where they just put down everything that came in that day, from broken bones and idiotic politician gaffes all the way to major wars or epidemics. And then they decide which to put their limited resources into. They figure out the stories that get full front page coverage, they decide which ones get a little blurb and which would look better as a graph or a video.
When working with your own ideas, you can do pretty much the same thing.
You find the right format for each idea.

Archive the useless ones

Originally posted by mobpsycho100

You know the ones. Seems like a great idea at three in the morning on a friday night, but you look at it in the bright light of day some time later and its… nyeeeeeeh. It happens.
Maybe not because they’re bad ideas, per se, maybe they’re just not something you can do anything with. Because the style, the genre, the fandom doesn’t fit. A court room drama with ninjas or your favourite character as a caveman might sound quirky or interesting, but if you can’t find a good story for them, or don’t have the background knowledge to make them exciting, they’re not of use to you. Onto the archive pile they go.

Put out the quick ones

Originally posted by mobpsycho100

Some ideas have more story in them than others.
If anyone has ever wondered why I write so many au’s and one shots, this is the reason.
The 'what ifs’ can make for some really awesome worlds, but you probably don’t have time to write a full trilogy for every one of them. Imagining my favourite sports anime boys in the zombie apocalypse, for instance, makes for some gripping scenes, but not much more than that. So I just write those scenes and leave them out there for people’s imagination.
The same thing happens with short scenarios. A cute quirk, a single action can make for a nice scene or short story but, at that point, nothing more.
Writing these out is a form of practice that makes you feel good about yourself, because it’s fast, you accomplished something and you have something to share. A lot of people enjoy reading scenario’s and imagines, so you may also get feedback to keep you motivated for the bigger stuff.

Store and recuperate scenes

Originally posted by n5fw

This one might be a bit controversial.
Ideas come in many forms. Sometimes a paragraph writes itself in your head. Sometimes you come upon an alternate time line and spend the next six hours breathlessly chatting to friends about the many depressing things that this entails. Sometimes you just imagine your favourite character in a Napoleon era style military uniform and really dig how he looks in it.
Many times, I get more cinematic ideas. Basically: scenes. Someone walking through a fantasy version of Alexanderplatz, a guy playing basketball with his s/o, a particularly fluffy moment between lovers on a lazy Sunday morning.
Here’s the thing with scenes: they are the building blocks of stories, and you can slot them into different ones. If a particular scene is very vivid in your brain, just write it out and save it for later.
Some of my stories are basically scenes that I strung together and wrote out to make them coherent. The plot doesn’t always come first. Sometimes the scenes dictate the plot.
Also, I have absolutely written out scenes and later put them in another story when I decided the original au was going nowhere. This is fine. They’re your scenes and you can do with them as you wish. Pick out the best parts, dust them off, rewrite for the new reality and your new story quickly gets some more substance.

Pat attention to the strong ones

Originally posted by ergo

You can guide inspiration, but only so far.
The more I write fiction, the more I believe that a lot of the themes and scenes that pop up are basically things I myself am dealing with.
The strongest ideas are the ones that resonate the most with you personally.
We write about lovers because we want affection, we write angst because one way or another, this gives us catharsis. We write adventures because part of us wants to see the world, preferably without actually coming out of the couch.
We write because we want to imagine these things happening. As writers, we want to get lost in this scenario, and we want to take readers with us.
So pay attention to the strongest ideas.
These are the ones that keep popping up long after you’ve already made notes for them, the themes and storylines that show up in a million different ways in a dozen different character configurations.
They’re the ones that are, possibly on some subconscious level, the most important to you.
And if my personal experience is anything to go by, they’re the ones that make for the best stories.


Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Smut all smut!

Request: Congrats sweetie! Can I get 29“Are you seriously reading the Carver Edlund books!?” with Dean, NSFW, if it isn’t taken? Thanks!- @nichelle-my-belle

Prompt: “Are you seriously reading the Carver Edlund books!?”

A/N: This oh lord this one was steamy!

Originally posted by huntintrip

Keep reading

For You ~ pt. 26

| all parts up to date |

Originally posted by juenkook

~ Boiling ~

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” I jump startled from Lee’s voice.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been staring at blank space for a few minutes now.” She is frowning. “And you seem distracted today.”

“Do I?” I run my fingers through my hair with a sigh. “Sorry about that. What were you saying before?”

She stays silent and when I look up, I can tell that she wanted to push the subject but as always she lets me be. “I was saying how my idiot of a boyfriend keeps sending me images of your boyfriend.”

“He does?” I snicker at her expression. “What’s so bad about that? I wish someone would send me photos of him.”

“Please put yourself in my situation for a second, imagine Jungkook sending you photos of Joon. How would you feel?”

“I would…” I clear my throat because I would probably toss my phone out the window. “Yeah, OK, I get it.”

“See? Not saying that Jungkook looks bad in the photos, it’s just weird…” And then she mutters something about Joon being weirder. I laugh. “Anyway, how is he?”

Keep reading

The Maze Runner: Newt - Lonely Girl

DISCLAIMER: The song is called Lonely Eyes and they belong fully to The Front Bottoms. I didn’t put the lyrics in, so please read them on a different page when the inserts tell you to, thanks!

Prompt: A one-shot based off the song called Loney Eyes by The Front Bottoms. The couple being Newt x Reader.  

(Thank you for this request, and thank you for your compliment in you message. You are so sweet!)

Newt’s POV

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Minho asks as he wipes the sweat off his forehead from a long day running out in the Maze. “Staring at her all day does absolutely nothing.”

“Like you would know.” I fire back, clenching my jaw in frustration. Not with Minho but with myself, it seems.


I sigh and slump onto the bench of one of the picnic tables, it wobbles slightly underneath my weight so I make a mental note to mention this to Gally later on when he is in a better mood. “I just… I do talk to her.”

“Yeah, what about?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Whatever, really. But it’s never anything… connecting or meaningful –to me anyway. It’s always small talk. I feel like every time I talk to her is just me grasping at every little ounce of attention I can get from her.”

Minho puts a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to another leg, and looks out to where Y/N stretches herself out. All alone. “I don’t want to sound like a slinthead, but then again I usually do sound like a slinthead…” Minho sighs, “Do you only feel that you’re attracted to her because she’s the only girl here?”

Instantly I shake my head like an immediate reflex, “It’s more than that. I didn’t take much notice of her looks or anything really when she first came up in the Box, ya know? But over the past month I just… there’s something about her. I want to know her.”

“Then why don’t you get to know her?”

I turn to Minho, “You think that’s not what I’m trying to do?” I shake my head, “It’s hard getting to know someone when they don’t really know themselves…”

Minho laughs, “Please don’t put all of this deep stuff onto me…”

I frown, “No, I didn’t mean it poetically. We don’t know who we are, or at least we didn’t when we first came up in the Box. She’s only been here a month, it’s all too fresh for her. She wouldn’t know much about herself with all of her memories wiped.”

“Okay then, why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

“I don’t have feelings for her, Minho, it’s not like that. I barely know her!” I stand up from the bench again and walk a few paces, “It’s a need to become closer with her.”

“Well then how about you just talk to her about it? Say you want to be her friend or some klunk like that. She’ll eat it up.” Minho smiles as if he’s done a brilliant job at solving my problem.

“I can’t just…” I sigh and shove my hands into my pockets, “I just need to think about this for a while.”

“Why are you so interested in her? I don’t mean that to be rude or anything, she’s cool and all but… To experience that kind of feeling for someone amazes me.”

I look down at my feet awkwardly, I hate to say it, but someday I’ll have to, “She reminds me of myself… in earlier days especially.”

Minho sighs, “You know you can’t just fix her with a few words.”

I immediately snap at him, “You think I don’t know that? I know exactly what kind of state she is in right now.” I take a minute to breathe, “I know a few words won’t magically fix her which is why I want to get her to trust me.”

“Okay, okay.” Minho grabs his plate of food, “Just don’t… don’t expect much.” He heads off in the direction of the small crowd of Gladers sitting beside a tree. I take this time to muster up enough courage to walk over to where Y/N lays.

Y/N’s (Reader’s) POV

The smell of the Earth brings back some sort of feeling, some kind of memory. You don’t know what it is exactly but you can’t let it go either, there’s just something about the smell of the grass and the dirt that latches onto something buried deep down into your brain. It irritates you at the best of times but sometimes it makes you at ease, but you know it will always end in frustration.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You roll over onto your side and face the boy who called your name, Newt, and prop your head onto one of your hands. “Hey, what’s up?” You like talking to Newt, it’s comforting most of the time that he seems to like talking to you. Most times you feel rather lonely, you’d like to meet up with him more often instead of wishing that he’d walk over to you all the time.

“Uh… not much really. Just heading over to grab some dinner, you want to join?”

You smile, “I would love to but… I sort of already ate.”

Newt looks to his feet, “Oh, okay…” He looks back over to the Kitchen’s and then to you again, “I’ll see you later then…”

“Yeah…” You watch as he turns to go but, like some sort of sudden outburst, your voice speaks out to him before he can leave, “Newt, do you sing?” You can’t really explain it, but you had been thinking about it earlier. You don’t remember anything musical in your life so it would be great to hear someone sing before you now, just so you can remember. So you can feel the music again.

Newt looks back at you, his head tilted slightly, “I…” It’s as if a lightbulb appears above his head as his eyes flash and his face becomes somewhat excited, “I gotta go.” And off he limps towards the Homestead, his blond wisps of hair flying into the wind. Whatever you said got some sort of reaction out of him, not what you hoped but you are definitely intrigued to learn more.

Newt’s POV

I stare down at the piece of paper in front of me, having scribbled quite a few lines already made me feel somewhat proud but it wasn’t enough. Earlier I thought this idea was magnificent, brilliant in fact, but now it seems rather hopeless.

The door creaks open and in comes Minho, a messy black head of hair from restless sleeping, “What in the shuck are you doing up at,” He pauses to look down at the watch clasped around his wrist, “3 in the damn morning, shank?”

I smile nervously as my eyes flitter from the guitar I asked Gally to build me and the sheets of paper lying on the ground in front of my crossed legs, “Writing… a song?”

Minho looks at me dumbly, as if I am the most stupid person in the whole entire world. “And why would you be doing that?” He rubs his eyes sleepily and yawns for a moment.

“I…” I look away, my cheeks blushing a slight shade of pink, “I don’t really know.”

“You’re writing a song for her, aren’t you?”

I nod, “I feel like it’s the only way I can… is it corny?”

Minho chuckles, “Yes, it is very corny. But if you write it right, she might really understand you. You might gain her trust, like you want.”

I roll my eyes and set down my pencil, “That helps a whole bunch.”

“I wasn’t finished shank,” Minho yawns again, “I was going to tell you that you need not to worry because you’ve got this in the bag!”

I raise an eyebrow, “How can you be so sure?”

Minho smiles innocently, “I may have read through some of your… things?”

I breathe in and out again very slowly before taking another look at him, “Leave now before I freak out on you.”

“Will do,” He turns to go but before he walks out of the room he says, “And good luck. Or break a leg. I don’t know.”

I laugh and stare down at my sheets of paper again, maybe I can do this. Maybe, just maybe, Minho is right.

Y/N’s (Reader’s) POV

Dusk rolls by rather quickly, which is very unusual for you as each day in the Glade tends to stretch out forever. Maybe it’s because of your tendency to keep to yourself most of the time, and the fact that today you actually chipped in and did a lot of work in the Kitchens. Usually you’d rather lay around and hope something would come of the day, but Newt was right about keeping yourself busy, drowns away the thoughts and the worries.

You like the smell of the time of day when the day turns into night, so you decide to spend it outside. The Runners have come back and everyone is settling down to eat the meal you helped prepare, but right now you’d rather wait and have a few minutes to yourself. But soon, you are greeted with a familiar face.

You spot a guitar in his hands, “Gally make that?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Works rather well.”

“About yesterday…” You speak up, “I’m still sort of confused…”

Newt gulps and straightens the guitar while placing his fingers over the strings, “I’d like to play you something, if that is alright?”

You smile instantly, “Of course… sure. Go ahead.”

Newt smiles nervously before clearing his throat, by now a few Gladers have swarmed behind me in anticipation of Newt’s song. He plays the intro, his fingers strumming against the strings bringing the music alive. How someone ever creates sounds like that from a wooden object I will never understand.

His voice comes out instantly, surprisingly it is full of confidence opposed to the nerves in his eyes, *Listen/read first verse*

His voice fades away as he strums over his guitar strings a little more fiercely. *Listen/read second verse + chorus* 

As he sings you never really realised until now how well he observes you, how well he has taking an understanding to you. And even though the lyrics seem a little bit negative, it really gets you. And for some reason it makes you happy, that he can produce something as wonderful as this, but also that it has such meaning to it.

*Listen/read chorus again* The guitar plays for just a little bit more until it ends slowly, and his eyes wander up to yours. You hear the whole of the Glade practically behind you clapping in your ears, but you just stare at him.

“Sorry if it sucked.” He swallows nervously, and places his guitar down gently.

You smile, and pull him into a hug before whispering in his ear, “It didn’t suck at all, not one bit.” You pull away from him, your arms still resting over his shoulders, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you liked it.” He smiles again and it makes you smile even wider.

You let go of him, “Am I really your world?”

Newt shrugs, a blush creeps along his cheeks, “You could be if you wanted to.”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this one-shot, and hope you go check out this song! It’s really good, and maybe you might check out some more of their songs. Who knows, maybe they might become your fave band c; 

Plus, I am sorry that I couldn’t put the lyrics in but I believe that its not exactly allowed so… yeah, just maybe have it up on a different page or something!

Keep requesting!

Scripts And Stars - Part 8

Summary: AU: Dan is an actor, auditioning for a new role in a film written by a revolutionary young writer by the name of Phil Lester.

Words: 2.2k (done per chapter)

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of suicidal thoughts and self hatred.

A/N: uuuuuh



Keep reading

What ACD ‘Really’ Meant & the Problem of Authorial Intent-- I need to say a thing.

I rarely post my own stuff, mostly because lurking is fun and everyone here does a brilliant job of crafting adroit metas and textual analyses. 

However, one thing that I see crop up every now and again is the notion of authorial intent, or in layperson’s terms, “what the writer really meant.” I’m here to tell you it needs to stop. At its best, it is discursive and at its worst, its a detrimental impediment to fully accessing the possibilities of a text.

I know nobody wants a lecture on the theories of New Criticism or Deconstructionism, but suffice it to say, these are two foundational modes of literary criticism and both of them completely discredit the notion of authorial intent as important to a reader’s understanding or decoding of a text.

Some of you may be wondering: “Bitch, why should I care?” To which I’d answer: “Because, by virtue of your participation in taking in a text and engaging in analysis of said text, you are acting as a critic and, while you by no means need to know fancy jargon or theories to engage in this criticism, it’s important to orient your stance in the most credible way possible. It helps keep the argument cogent and your reader interested.” I’d then go on to add something about not referring to people as “bitch” right off the bat, but that’s for another day.

The other reason this is important to bring up is because authorial intent is so often used as a counter-argument against Johnlock. Anti’s love to strut around quipping that ACD either didn’t want his characters to be queer OR that we’ll never really know what he intended because he’s dead. These arguments make me want to punch puppies because they’re vapid and baseless and completely untethered from logic. Also, they’re lazy. The fact of the matter is that what ACD intended is bollocks, period, full stop. 

Once the act of thought is committed to the page via language, all we, the audience, have to contend with is what is on the page. That’s it. 

To ACD, or any writer, what is set on the page and put out in the world is what they meant, that’s why they did it. 

Imagine saying to a painter: “I see you’ve painted a house. Did you mean to paint a house? I mean, is it a house?” The painter would likely stare at you and try very hard not to laugh or cry because the evidence of his work is right there in front of your face. Asking him to explain anything outside of questions of process or inspiration is an insult to the painter. And it’s ultimately an insult to you, because you, likely, have eyes that can see the evidence for yourself. Also, clearly he meant to paint the house or else he wouldn’t have.

But I digress. Actually, no I don’t. That was an apt analogy. That’s a keeper.

Anyhow, in summation: authorial intent is bunk. Stop talking about it, stop bringing it up, stop giving it one ounce of credence. It is not a thing that has any place in literary criticism.

Bonus Mini-Rant:

Many are aware of this, but it bears repeating, especially in light of the notion of authorial intent being bandied about like it was worth something: The ACD canon has been interpreted as a queer and queered text for decades. Beyond authorial intent, the stories speak for themselves with regard to their subtextual elements of queerness. 

Thank you for your time. Enjoy your evening, etc.

serrice  asked:

for prompts: percy and/or vex -- reading by a fire?

Percy is amused when he comes in to find Vex on the floor in front of the fire; she is curled against Trinket, a book in her hands and a blanket wrapped around her legs. “There are chairs here, you know,” he says.

“Chairs aren’t as comfortable as Trinket. Also, it’s warmer down here.”

“It’s really not that cold.”

“Says you.” Vex makes a face at him.

“Just wait until the real winter kicks in.” Percy shrugs and joins her on the floor, patting Trinket as he leans back against the coarse fur. “What are you reading?”

She starts to pull the book away from him, then grins and holds it out. “I found it tucked away behind other books in the library. I wonder who put it there - your mother, your sister, some servant with very risque taste in literature?”

Percy raises his eyebrows and takes the book. He skims the page she’s at. “Well.” He coughs. “That’s certainly … descriptive. And I’m not sure that position is physically possible.”

“I’m certain it is.” She looks at him thoughtfully. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“Not in front of your son, no.”

Vex turns to Trinket. “Darling, why don’t you go down to the kitchen and see what kind of scraps the cook has from dinner?” Trinket grumbles, but gets to his feet and lumbers out of the room.

Vex follows him, closing the door behind him. When she turns back to the fire, her grin is positively evil. “I bet you twenty gold that we can manage it.”

“No bet. Besides, you already have all my gold.” Percy glances back at the book. “But I’m still game to try.”

“And that’s why I love you.”