yes i even liked the bag

yo skip this if you dont wanna know a bunch of random things about me

my babe my mate my dude @niqhteyes tagged me in another thing and now i’m gonna annoy you all here we go

Rules: answer each and then tag 15 people (lmao fifteen. sure)

Keep reading

iliad characters as rupaul's drag race quotes
  • agamemnon: i am trying to bring attention to one of my favourite causes which is me
  • achilles: the hardest part of this challenge was not telling everyone else that i was going to win
  • odysseus: the dog is looking at me like “get me the fuck out of here”, i’m looking at the dog like “get ME the fuck out of here”
  • helen: i don’t have a sugar daddy. i’ve never had a sugar daddy. if i wanted a sugar daddy, yes, i probably could go out and get one because i am what? SICKENING
  • patroclus: i feel sexy in anything, even a body bag
  • paris: my mom sent me to military school in the hopes that she'd get a little soldier. needless to say, she got a drag queen.
  • hector: just fyi for all you girls up there, i don't want to hear any goddamn excuses. be prepared! make it work! make it work! fucking make it happen! i don't want to hear any GODDAMN EXCUSES any more!
  • andromache: "i'll win for you." ohhh, that's sweet. he's not going to win.
  • nestor: i'm just under three hundred years old, i know some things
  • (not-technically-iliad bonus round) eris: i just honestly thought y'all were all boring and i was trying to turn the party
Human Cuisine Vs Aliens

From a bit in Voltron: Legendary Defenders and other sources, what if humans are weird in being the only species to have created cuisine.

Not just roasting and/or cooling food, but baking, sauteing, deep frying, etc. are wholly unique to humanity. we don’t slap a full potato on cow meat and call it good, no, we mash and grind that potato to a fine paste, add condensed cow milk (butter) and other small spices…

OH GOD SPICES, WE FOUGHT TRADE WARS OVER THOSE

But yeah, we take a specific part of cow to selectively heat in so many variety that we have a list of options for that, so that we can specifically enjoy that part of cow.

Peas are simple somewhat, we just need to choose whether or not we want them in their pod or not. But then again, humans are weird and can prepare even the basic pea with our witchcraft cooking.

So imagine if the first time a human visits even an alien ship for food after basic relation have begun and we come to a casual meal and we find what we consider ration food handed to us.

“Oh, I’m sorry to intrude Salir.” John apologized.

“Why is that John?” Salir had learned a first name basis was a sign of comfort among humans.

“You just seem to be short on food right now is all.” John hesitantly smiled, confusing Salir a bit.

“Not at all, we have plenty more, though I thought we would have a small meal.”

“Small?!” John seemed to be outraged. “This is naught but a freeze dried steak and a hand-full of carrot bits!”

Salir processed the analogs of their meal to human food sources. “Yes, that would be an ample meal.”

“Oh no man, I may not be any chef, but even I can do better than this.” John stood to move to his bag. “Get me a pan and a fire, you’re lucky I carry some spices around for something like this.”

instant gratification (m)

Originally posted by pjmksj

fuccboii jk x cheerleader! reader ft sex in an instant photobooth

7k, smut

WARNING: this is just pure smut no plot whatsoever lmao and it’s filthy as hell read at ur own risk


11.57am [Jeon Jeongguk]: Quad. Now.

The brevity of his text should annoy you, but it only ignites a desire that burns insistently till it’s quenched. With your screen brightness turned down this low, it should be hard for anyone but you to decipher the words on your screen, but you still jump in surprise and guilt when your roommate, Sejong taps you on the shoulder.

“Hey, don’t forget practice is at 12.30pm today, don’t be late!! Coach already seemed near the end of her rope the last time and the team sure as hell doesn’t need her cracking down any harder. Got it?” Sejong might be your dearest roommate, but as captain of the cheer team she definitely takes her duties very seriously.

Swallowing back nervous laughter, you attempt to flash her an easy smile. “Yes, I promise I’ll be there on time!! It won’t happen anymore, I swear.”

You quickly stash away your phone in your bag and finish adjusting your knee socks before standing and bidding her a hasty goodbye.

“Wait, you’re leaving now? There’s still like half an hour before we start!” Sejong narrows her eyes at you just as your hand lands upon the door handle. Even facing away from her you can feel her scrutinising gaze on your back, and your urgency to leave the room increases.

“Uhh… yeah, you said my splits needed some work last time right? I think I’m gonna go in early and get some practice in.” To your own ears your excuse sounds flimsy and coupled with the slight tremor in your voice, you’re almost definitely sure that Sejong will call you out.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Is there a bag of mix gummy fazbears? Because I think all the Bear Animatronics are all true gummy bears in the world! :D

…………..yes

anonymous asked:

"I bought you a cat" Bucky

I gotta admit, I died laughing when I saw this.

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

Bucky stared back and forth between you and the small plastic crate. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head in confusion.

“Why?” He asked blinking at you.

“I went to a shelter today to do some volunteer work and I met this little guy and he reminded me of you so I got him for you.” You smiled at him.

“A cat, reminded you of me?” He tilted his head the other direction.

“Yes, he’s anti-social just like you. You guys should get along great. I even bought you a litter box and toys!” You held up the plastic bag in your other hand.

You set the crate down and opened the door so Bucky’s new little furry friend could explore the room. He poked his little black head out and looked around before gingerly stepping one paw outside then darting under Bucky’s bed.

“See, he’s already making himself at home!” You took out the supplies and set everything up as Bucky just continued to stare at you. “Have fun you guys!”

- One Week Later -

“How’s the cat?” You looked at Bucky from across the counter before taking a sip of your coffee.

“His name is Sam.” He didn’t bother looking up at you.

“Why?” You tried to hold back a giggle.

“Because he’s an asshole.” Bucky replied.

Nat spit out her coffee all over Steve as you died laughing. Sam threw his hands in the air, clearly offended by Bucky’s statement. Bucky nonchalantly cleaned up his plate throwing it in the sink before walking off to his room, Sam right on his heels.

“That’s not cool man! You can’t do shit like that!” Sam yelled.

“I’m gonna train him to hunt Red Wing next!” That was the last thing you heard before Bucky’s bedroom door slammed shut.


1.2K DRABBLE CELEBRATION

‘The tavern where adventurers all meet to begin a quest’ - prompted by @neverwhere

I can confirm that is run by Fry Guy, but isn’t owned by him and he hates all the regulars.

Bitty works there as a cook. He knows how the magic in the tavern works and he’s always amazed to watch it.

(Basically it will put together an unlikely group of people for quests that seem impossible, he’s seen it happen a few times.)

Jack shows up like once a month, harassing Fry Guy about all the available lone jobs *not* posted yet on the boards, then leaving with the hardest one. He never orders a drink but does leave a tip, however the amount of people who later come to complain about Zimmermann getting special treatment is just not worth it.

Shitty is always in the tavern, he’s loud and has a lot of opinions about everything. He knows a lot about a lot of random things and would be a good person to have in a quest for the value of his knowledge alone if he wasn’t so annoying sometimes.

Lardo is a badass and pretty ok actually, but she always has paint in her hands or glitter, so it takes ages to clean up after her.

Random and Holster are never seen without each other, they are actually one of the tavern success stories.

Bitty can totally tell by the magic in the air that the tavern will do its thing soon, and it starts with Lardo showing up and sitting with Shitty, a scroll in her hands. Shitty looks interested and the two speak for a really long time.

Holster and Ransom arrive, and zero in on Lardo who apparently won the scroll from them in some sort of drinking game. They don’t seem mad just very impressed. They sit down and order drinks.

Jack shows up, and before he can get to the bar, spots the scroll which Shitty is holding up to the light. Jack joins their table. They talk for a while before he pulls out a key, their group starts to whisper in excitement and then they fall into the usual negotiations when it comes to group quests.

The group orders pie, and Bitty goes to serve them since they are short staffed that day. He peers curiously at the scroll.

“Samwell?” He reads out loud curiously, and blushes when they all zero in on him. He knows it was rude of him to try and find out details about a quest to he apologises, but Lardo grabs him by the arm and makes him take a seat.

“You can read it?” Jack demands.

Bitty looks around the expectant expressions and oh, so this is why the magic felt kind of heavy today. Shit. “…yes.”

Bitty really tries to get out of joining their quests. “I am but a simple kitchen witch!” He complains loudly, “I don’t even know how to use hexes or use swords! I can only make pies appear.”

“You can make food appear!?!?? Like that’s so damn useful, we have enough people with fighting skills around.” “It’s decided you are coming with us!”

Bitty despairs. He really is just a simple kitchen witch with no interest on adventure.

“That means you are the main character,” Johnson, the owner of the tavern tells him cheerfully while giving him a packed bag.

So off they go in their quest. Jack apparently to reclaim his kingdom which has been cursed and hidden from him till now. Shitty in search for rare knowledge that is said to be only found in the library. Lardo for inspiration. Ransom and Holster for a cure to free people from the LAX plague. And Bitty who is just being dragged alone since he’s the only one capable of reading the map.

“4 gold coins that he discovers his inner strength and true love on the way,” Johnson bets Fry Guy.

“No bet, you are a seer,” replies Fry Guy cleaning a mug and thinking how peaceful it’ll be around the tavern with all the annoying regulars gone.

“Call me a frog again to my face!”
“Frog!”

Then two guys start fighting, while a third one tries to stop them. Fry Guy sighs, spoke too soon.

Unusual Ingredients For Love Spells

I find myself getting tired of using the same ingredients for spells over and over. Of course these staple items have been used so frequently by various people and traditions for a reason, sometimes I think it’s just fun and helpful to grow your practice by changing it up. So, here are some things I have used in works that aren’t typical in love magick. 

1) Strawberry Leaves- I find these especially helpful in spells that are trying to attract NEW love to a person. Strawberries are associated with love, playfulness, and innocence and although you may be trying to cultivate a romantic/sexual relationship, the foundation of long-lasting relationships is friendship, which strawberry leaves are great for!

2) Kool Aid- Yes, I actually mean Kool-Aid. In love spells flavors to be used could be cherry, strawberry, or even pink lemonade. Similar to strawberries Kool-AId is associated with innocence and childlike love. If you are interested in drawing a partner to you that is playful and able to laugh at themselves this could be a great thing to sprinkle onto your candles or put in your mojo/spell bags. It also could be used like I mentioned before to ground a relationship in friendship and childlike purity.

3) Cotton Candy- Need to sweeten someone up? Cotton candy will do it for you. Using this in a work could be as complex as melting it down and using the syrup for various bottle/jar spells, or even as simple as putting it on your tongue, letting it melt, and commanding someone to be sweet to you. This could be used for new love, rekindling love, or even just keeping someone around.

4) Maraschino Cherries- These things are super sweet so using the cherry or the syrup could be used to sweeten someone or something to be swayed in your favor. Cherries are also associated with sexual desire and could be used in spells associated with that.

5) Chili Peppers- Use this one with extreme caution. I would not personally advise anyone to use these when doing one for new love but they definitely could be used to speed something up, or spice ip a relationship if things are getting dull.

Playing Twister :D Black Hat/ Flug
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b></b> I'm making an english version of these one so...don't use the translator xD<p/><b>Dementia:</b> WHO WANTS TO PLAY FUCKING TWISTER?<p/><b>Flug:</b> Dementia, language.<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> What is this Twister thing?<p/><b>Dementia:</b> Oh, it's a game where you put your left hand for example in one spot of color and all the players do the same. You get it?<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> Obviously, who do you think I am? A moron?<p/><b>Flug:</b> *whisper* Maybe...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> WHAT?!<p/><b>Dementia:</b> LET'S PLAY!!!<p/><b></b> *After putting everything in order*<p/><b>Dementia:</b> Flug, put your left hand on the red spot.<p/><b>Flug:</b> This hurts...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> WEAK!!!!<p/><b>Dementia:</b> Ok boss, your right leg on the green spot.<p/><b></b> *Obviously they continue playing until they end in a very compromising situation*<p/><b>Flug:</b> Ah...Sir...I think that you are tired...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> NONSENSE. I LOVE THIS GAME. DEMENTIA WHAT'S NEXT?<p/><b>Dementia:</b> Flug, your right leg on the blue spot, between Black Hat legs.<p/><b>Flug:</b> Eh...it can be different? I-i mean, can I put my leg in other side?<p/><b>Dementia:</b> No. That will be against the rules >:v<p/></p><p/></p><p/><b>Black Hat:</b> ARE YOU AFRAID TO LOSE?!<p/><b>Flug:</b> Maybe ;-; ...Well yes.<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> DEMENTIA CONTINUE!<p/><b><p/><b>Dementia:</b> Black Hat put your right hand on the yellow spot, next to Flug's head.<p/><b>Flug:</b> *sweating a lot*<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> What is it, doctor? Maybe thinking in something "special"~<p/><b>Flug:</b> No sir, n-nothing...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> Well...that's being unfortunate...<p/><b></b> Suddenly all the lights are off. Flug can feel the touch of skin pulling away a piece of his bag, exactly where his mouth is...Then the softness of some lips on his owns. Moving in circles and asking for permission to enter.<p/></p><p/><b></b> He opens his mouth slightly...The lights return and Black Hat is not on top of him or even in the room.<p/><b>Flug:</b> What happened?<p/><b>Dementia:</b> I dunno...well yes but I don't want to tell you xD<p/><b>Flug:</b> Black Hat just kissed me?<p/><b></b> He touches his lips, waiting for some signal there, saliva, a little bit of blood...nothing.<p/><b></b> That night the scientist decided to pull of his bag to do a little check up in his face.<p/><b></b> Like manually he check his lips. A smile is forming, there are sharp forms of tooth.<p/><b>Flug:</b> Boss...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> You were calling?~<p/><b></b> _—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—<p/><b>SPANISH:</b> <p/><b>Demencia:</b> ¡¿QUIEN QUIERE JUGAR AL PUTO TWISTER?!<p/><b>Flug:</b> Demencia, esa boca.<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> ¿Qué es el twister?<p/><b>Demencia:</b> Oh, es un juego, donde por ejemplo, pones tu mano derecha en un color indicado y todos hacen lo mismo sólo que en diferentes colores y con otras partes del cuerpo ¿Entendiste?<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> Obviamente ¿Qué crees que soy? ¿Un idiota?<p/><b>Flug:</b> *susurro* tal vez...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> QUÉ<p/><b>Demencia:</b> JUGUEMOS<p/><b></b> *Después de poner todo en orden*<p/><b>Demencia:</b> Flug, pon tu mano izquierda en la mancha roja.<p/><b>Flug:</b> Esto duele...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> DÉBIL<p/><b>Demencia:</b> Ok jefe, su pierna derecha en la mancha verde.<p/><b></b> *Continúan jugando y obviamente todo termina en una situación comprometedora* (todos terminamos así en twister)<p/><b>Flug:</b> Ah, señor, creo que está cansado...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> TONTERÍAS. AMO ESTE JUEGO. DEMENCIA ¿QUÉ SIGUE?<p/></p><p/><b>Demencia:</b> Flug, tu pierna derecha en la mancha azul, entre las piernas de Black Hat.<p/><b>Flug:</b> Eh...¿Puede ser diferente? Q-quiero decir ¿Puedo poner mi pierna en otro lugar?<p/><b>Demencia:</b> No, eso va en contra de las reglas >:v<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> ¡¿TEMES PERDER?!<p/><b>Flug:</b> Tal vez...bueno, sí ;-;<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> DEMENCIA CONTINÚA.<p/><b>Demencia:</b> Black Hat, pon tu mano derecha en la mancha amarilla, al lado de la cabeza de Flug.<p/><b>Flug:</b> *suda bastante*<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> ¿Qué pasa doctor? ¿Pensando en algo especial~?<p/><b>Flug:</b> No señor...n-nada...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> Bueno...eso es ser desafortunado~<p/><b></b> Las luces se apagan de la nada. Flug puede sentir el tacto de la piel al levantar un pedazo de su bolsa, justo donde está su boca.<p/><b></b> De ahí la suavidad de unos labios contra los suyos, moviéndose en círculos y pidiendo permiso para entrar en la boca ajena; Flug separa los labios ligeramente, sintiendo la humedad de la lengua contraria al rozar con la suya.<p/><b></b> Las luces vuelven y Black Hat ya no está sobre él, ni en el cuarto.<p/><b>Flug:</b> ¿Q-qué pasó?<p/><b>Demencia:</b> No sé...bueno sí sé pero no te wua a decir :D<p/><b>Flug:</b> ¿Acaso Black Hat me besó?<p/><b></b> Se toca los labios, esperando una señal, ya sea saliva o un poco de sangre...nada.<p/><b></b> Esa noche, el científico decidió retirar la bolsa para una pequeña revisión al rostro.<p/><b></b> Como algo manual, se revisa los labios, una sonrisa aparece, puede ver la marca de unos dientes afilados.<p/><b>Flug:</b> Jefe...<p/><b>Black Hat:</b> ¿Llamabas~?<p/><b></b> -----------<p/><b></b> Pos sí, ambas versiones, quería utilizar el tema del Twister porque cada quien lo juega termina en una situación/posición rara.<p/><b></b> Además no me sentía muy bien por temas con mis amigos y la familia; y escribir me hace feliz... así que disfruten, supongo...<p/></p>

anonymous asked:

can you write a lil bit, like head canons, or whatever form takes your fancy, on autistic kara?

eliza doesn’t know what she’s facing here, other than a small alien girl who clings to her cousins hand.

her cousin, who didn’t even stay to help her settle in.

he had called ahead, asked them to take her and as soon as the girl - kara, the only word she responds to - had taken a step toward them, toward the house, he had flown away.

eliza understands, in a way. but her understanding is only a very small part of her, and the rest is so angry on kara’s behalf. because kara never gets angry. she just stares around with wide, solemn eyes and accepts whatever happens next. sit here, stay there, move here, don’t do that…she just nods and follows the directions and eliza is afraid to push because this girl witnessed something that eliza cannot fathom. but something clark said had stuck and eliza can’t help but want to figure it out.

“it wasn’t supposed to be this hard,” he had said over the phone. he sounded exhausted, upset yes but so exhausted. “it wasn’t - she’s not like me. it wasn’t like this for me, i don’t know how to help her. i don’t know how to reach her, make her understand. please, will you help me?”

help, at some point, evolved into “take her” and then she’s sitting at the end of the bed they squeezed into alex’s room, hands folded on her lap, bag at her feet.

he hadn’t even come inside.

she flinches every time someone takes a step and when jeremiah pushes open the window, the hinges screech and kara is gone. she’s so fast that eliza stands dazed until she thinks to look for her and they find her on the opposite end of the house, pressed into the corner, hands balled over her ears.

“ah jeez,” jeremiah sighs, and eliza leans back into his warm side, stares across at her. “what are we going to do?”

“whatever we can.”

he nods after a moment, wraps an arm around her waist. “introductions first?”

kara has eased her hands down and she stares at eliza’s feet when she steps forward. when eliza crouches in front of her, she stares at her own feet.

“kara.” she rocks back on her feet. eliza quietens her voice as much as she can. “my name is eliza. do you understand?” she waits, and waits, and when the floorboards creak under her husbands feet, she shakes her head and he doesn’t say whatever he was going to say. they wait a little more and then, finally, kara meets her eyes.

“eliza. jeremiah.”

her voice is thin. a whisper, but if a whisper had less heft.

eliza counts the introductions as a victory, again when kara says “alex” without prompting when she walks into the room, and they celebrate with cookies because eliza doesn’t know any thirteen year olds who don’t like chocolate chip cookies.

//

“alex,” kara says when she steps into the room, and alex rolls her eyes.

“still haven’t broken that habit, mom,” she calls out, and eliza looks up from the dining table, pages strewn across it, and nods. “are we going to work on that or what? time to deprogram the bug.”

“while i am very pleased to see you’re learning something useful at school, kara is not a robot, alex, so be nice.”

“she’s kind of a robot. follows specific orders, organises stuff, talks weird.”

“if you can’t be helpful, alexandra, you can go to your room.”

alex falls silent. eliza returns to her work. jeremiah steps into the room and kara says “jeremiah”, and eliza looks up to meet her daughters rather insistent ‘i told you so’ eyes.

//

“i don’t know what to tell you, dear,” martha says. there’s a cow mooing in the background. eliza stares out at the beach and reminds herself, even when one daughter can crumble the beach rocks to sand with a too strong sneeze and the other has taken to moods and glowers, that things could be worse and she could live on a farm. with those plastic boots. and cows. “clark was never like that. oh that poor dear, i can’t imagine…”

“but his powers, he didn’t get them until he was older,”

“he was always strong and remarkably resilient. always good for a new mother,” martha chuckles. “but around, oh, ten? he lifted the tractor up for his pop and things haven’t been the same since.”

“do you think she’s having trouble because it’s so new?”

“it’s possible. she did lose her family too, dear,” martha reminds her. “trauma like that does funny things to a person. but clark took to it all so easily, ‘cept for a few broken windows and scares. all this with your kara…i’m sorry it’s so hard, what with dealing with her little quirks,”

“sorry, martha,” eliza cuts her off. “i have to go - alex is using kara to weed the garden, this can’t end well.”

it doesn’t end as badly as she feared, but one of the bigger trees has been uprooted too, alex is grounded, and kara…kara doesn’t look upset at the idea that she did something wrong. she looks terrified. and she disappears, slowly, into the basement and curls her hands around her ears and it’s a very long time before she even seems to hear eliza, let alone listen to her.

she thinks about martha’s words when her knees click and the basement floor turns freezing and promptly ignores them. it’s no harder raising kara than it is with alex, just different. and she doesn’t want to speak ill about the other woman, clark is a good man, but he’s also a man who abandons his little cousin at a strangers house.

eliza wraps her arm around kara’s shoulder when she is allowed to, and presses a kiss to her head.

//

“they called it uwe wegh,” kara says softly to eliza one afternoon. alex is at a summer school - it involves a lot of dissection and playing with chemicals and alex comes home smelling of sanitizer even to eliza’s nose. she hopes it’s not why alex does it, but kara keeps her distance from alex when she smells so strongly.

“what was that, dear? pass me the bread tin.”

kara’s hand hovers over the baking tin and, when eliza nods, she passes it over.

“uwe wegh.” she looks very serious and the words are clearly kryptonian so eliza lays her spoon down on the counter and turns to face her. kara sucks in a breath. “it means…to have a brain that,” she frowns down at the recipe book. slides her finger down the page, runs her thumb over the side so the paper ruffles. “is a different brain.” the worried wrinkle appears and she looks over at eliza. “thats not right. it was more…doctor sounding.”

“like a diagnosis?”

“it’s not a disease.”

“i didn’t say that, sweetheart,” eliza soothes. not that kara sounded angry, she never really does. just reserved. “did you, have that?” she asks, a little awkwardly.

kara nods. “they followed me around for two days and then told my father. they asked a lot of questions.”

“like what?”

she shrugs. “what i like to eat. and wear, and listen. what i like to do. my favourite toys to play with.”

“what did you tell them?”

she shrugs again. something she learned from alex. eliza doesn’t mind: she would stand out more if she didn’t shrug or roll her eyes. “i was little. i don’t remember.”

“okay.” eliza picks up her spoon. “thank you for telling me, sweetheart.”

kara nods.

when eliza scoops the batter into the tin, she gives kara the bowl and the spoon to lick.

“i thought you should know. because i’m not like clark. and it’s harder with my quirks,” she says, which means she definitely heard the things eliza didn’t want her hearing. “and it’s not,” she touches her ear and then her glasses nervously, doesn’t even try to say anything about her powers. “it’s just me. it’s my brain.”

“thank you for telling me,” eliza says again. “would you lay the table?”

//

they have to have a proper discussion about it but it had to wait for later because what kara told her finally clicked a few pieces into place and eliza does three days worth of research before she carries a large book to the dining room table and calls kara softly to join her.

she scoots their chairs close together, wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“autism, the autism spectrum,” she says, and kara leans forward to read. when she’s done, she’s stiff and quiet, and then she leans into eliza’s side and looks up at her when eliza brushes the hair out of her face. “i think this fits, sweetie. what do you think?”

kara shrugs.

“it doesn’t have to mean anything, but it can’t hurt to know a little more. and it’s given me some ideas about how we can work on making you more comfortable.”

“i’m fine, eliza,”

“alright.” she hands over the notes she made, and kara folds the pages three times and hides them in between her hands. “you read them for me, okay? and we can talk about it whenever you like. now it’s your turn to pick dinner,”

“noodles,” kara says immediately, unsurprisingly. it’s the same dinner she’d picked four times in a row and eliza nods. same foods. she’d read that somewhere.

“noodles it is.”

anonymous asked:

Would you write a jooheon neighbour AU for me? Please please please I'm just imagining this boy as a neighbour and it would be so perfect if you'd put it into some words!!! + how are you? Does everything work out good in college,? 😚

ofc!! im ok, college is tough - but im gonna make it!! we all are ^^
find wonho (here) + kihyun (here) 

  • only keeps one part of his apartment clean: his desk 
  • everything else is,,,,,,,,as you can expect,,,,,,,mismatched pairs of sneakers, t-shirts lumped together with socks, comic books and wrappings from snacks, and the occasional crumpled up paper from lyrics that he tried to write but ended up hating
  • has a dart board near his desk and will pin up bad lyrics and throw darts at it until he gets out of writers block LOL
  • (sometimes he puts up a pic of his companies ceo but shh let’s not tell anyone that) 
  • he doesn’t really use his bedroom, sleeps in his chair or manages to throw himself across his sofa in some uncomfortable position
  • like minhyuk has come over to find half of jooheon’s body sliding off the couch,,,,drool on his pillow,,,,no blanket except like three hoodies he threw over himself for warmth
  • it’s cute though he has a bunch of like action figures from marvel and dc around his desk and instead of actual books on the shelves it’s like action figures and different games
  • like,,,,he’s got 5 different versions of monopoly 
  • friday night monsta x comes over and they play settlers of catan or something LOL
  • has an old shoe-box full of the first cds he ever bought as a kid, most of them are ying yang twins, common, 50 cent,,,,
  • you know jooheon because no one else in your entire apartment building wears supreme and stussy as much as him,,,,,,,and also no one else but him gets a subscription to comics
  • so when you see the bundle outside near the mail you’re like “oh,,,,,that has to be jooheon’s.” 
  • but really, that’s all you know. he has expensive clothes and likes comics,,,,,,other than that you aren’t really sure about what kind of job he has or who he is as a person
  • and you’re not itching to find you either,,,,,,,,not until you get a knock on your door at 8 am and you’re up for one reason: you were gonna get a snack and then go back to sleep till noon
  • but you open the door, fully expecting the mailman or someone
  • but instead it’s?????? jooheon and he’s frantically looking around and you’re like uh,,,,,,,,,,,,,yes?
  • and he’s like “i have a flight in an hour and i havent packed and i forgot to buy an extra toothbrush do you have a spare???? and also toothpaste????? and like possibly a pair of socks???? also sunscreen?????”
  • and you’re looking at him like,,,,,,,well he just requested you give him a literal itinerary of things ??? things you pack in ADVANCE
  • and you’re like wait. when is your fligh-
  • and he’s like “an hour,,,,,im,,,,,,,,,,,,sweating”
  • and he isn’t lying. he’s sweating you can see his forehead glistening and you’re like ok ok give me a second to check my bathroom
  • and jooheon is in luck you have some brushes and paste still in packaging and your sunscreen is used, but only halfway and you’re like “this is what i have and socks,,,uh here you go-”
  • and you hand him the first pair, they have little cats on him, but jooheon has no time to complain and he’s holding all the stuff in his arms and you kind of feel a bit bad,,,,so you’re like “do you need help,,,,,,,,,,,,packing?”
  • and he looks at you like you’re the damn Sun and he’s like pleASe,,,,it’s 30 min to the airport so,,,,,,i need to run
  • and you end up in his apartment for the first time, navigating the mess on the floor, to help get all the basic nessecities he needs into a beat up looking duffel bag
  • and you’re like “where are you even going?” and he’s like “thailand,,,,so don’t pack any jackets.”
  • and you guys finish, but it’s not the best,,,,,,,,,,,but he’ll survive for the week he’s gone
  • and as he’s dashing out the door you’re like “lock your door!” and he throws you the keys and he’s like “please do it for me!”
  • and with that he’s down the stairs and you’re standing there with his keys and five minutes later you’re like WAIT HOW IS HE GONNA GET BACK INTO THE BUILDING WHEN HE COMES BACK OH MY GOD JOOHEON
  • and you run downstairs, but he’s gone and you’re like oh my god,,,,,,,,,,,,
  • and as the week goes on you try to figure out what the best solution is: ask the landlord for jooheons number? well he’s overseas,,,,,,,he might not want the data charges. wait for him outside the building every night until he returns? no too much work,,,,,,,
  • so you just shrug and decide he’ll figure out someway to get to you
  • and he does,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,except it involves literally throwing pebbles at your window like this is some corny 80s romance flick
  • and it happens at like 3 in the morning too and you wake up like whAT the HELL is that annoying sound but you go to your window and look out and there’s jooheon standing at the side of the building waving with his duffel bag over his shoulder
  • and you signal for him to give you a second and you’re in your damn pajamas with the worst bed head and some slippers and when you let him inside he’s like “,,,,,,,,i realized when i got on the plane that throwing my keys to you wasn’t a smart move.” and you’re like hUH YOU THINK
  • and he’s like “im sorry for bothering you so much,,,,,,,,,,sometimes i don’t have it all together you know.”
  • and you soften up, even though he woke you up in the dead of night, and you get on the elevator with him and he’s like “oh, by the way i needed to thank you so i got this.”
  • and he pulls out a souvenir from his bag and hands it to you,,,,and you smile a bit,,,,,,even blush because well here’s this (cute. very cute) boy giving you a present
  • and you’re like “oh,,,,you didn’t have to,,,,”
  • and jooheon sees your blush and also starts stuttering and he’s like “i just - i - you were very nice to me - i - w-want-ed to- uh - repay,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and the doors open and you both go to your respective doors and you’re like rIGHT, and you drop the keys in jooheon’s hands
  • and he’s like “WELL good night,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like yes,,,,,,,,,
  • but neither of you go inside and jooheon clears his throat and is like “i,,,,,,,i didn’t mean to be weird and get you the present i just,,,,,,,,,didn’t know if you’d be ok with just getting that or if i should instead just take you to dinner as a thank you,,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like oh,,,,,,,i have that choice?
  • and jooheon scratches his neck and looks away but mumbles that yeah,,,,,,,,you do
  • and you look at the souvenir and you’re like “if i say yes, do i have to give this back?”
  • and jooheon snaps back to look at you,,,,,because he didn’t think you’d actually be interested in the dinner option but his cheeks are pink now and he’s like no no you can keep it and um,,,,,,dinner,,,,,,,i,,,,,,,can pick you up tomorrow - well today - night? 
The Stupid Bag (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Rriipppp

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and turned just in time to see most of your books cascade to the floor. It was the fifth time in three days that this had happened and he honestly didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just buy a new bag. Instead, you insisted on repeatedly casting Reparo multiple times a day. Talk about a waste of time and magic. He watched in disdain as a group of sixth and seventh year boys began to crowd around you eagerly trying to offer you their assistance. His eyes narrowed at a particularly bold one who actually dared to put a hand on your arm.

“Keep that expression on your face and you’ll get permanent wrinkles, you know.” Pansy said from next to him. He leveled a glare at her before smoothing out his aristocratic features. “Malfoy’s don’t get wrinkles.” He sniffed while Pansy merely rolled her eyes in boredom. “Come on, class starts in five.”  She said pulling on his arm. “And stop pining after her for Salazar’s sake, it’s unbecoming of you.” She smirked. Draco’s protests were lost in the crowd as their professor arrived just in time to usher them into Transfigurations. Pining? Since when has he ever pined? He doesn’t pine. Pansy can shove it.

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We need to talk about Belle’s pockets.

The 2017 and 1991 Beauty and the Beast  is set in 18 century France. This is seen in the architecture and clothing and even some of the mannerisms of the characters. (It’s not 100% accurate because it is a Disney Fairytale and liberties were taken.)

Now about the clothing. I’ve been doing some research for some unrelated things and I found a cool video on clothing in the 18th century. (You can watch it here.) The most intersting thing I found was the pockets. Yes, POCKETS. Ladies actually had pockets in their dresses back then!! This is the even cooler part. They were more or less small bags that hung at the hip. They were worn under a couple of layers and all of those layers had slits in them to allow access to the pocket. 

Heres whats so cool about Emma Watson’s Belle. She wears her pockets on the outside of her dress. Not only are they accurate to what pockets looked like in the 18th century, but they are seen. At the time, pockets were a very private thing. They were often stolen by being cut off a lady- thus you wear them under so many layers. It was also one of your only private places to hide things (small houses or maids poking around). Belle is making a pretty big satement wearing her pockets outside of her dress. 1) she has nothing of great value. 2) she trusts her fellow towns people not to steal what she does have. 3) She doesn’t care that people can see her pockets (I mean she also has her skirt tucked into her waist band so…) 4) She has no secrets. She’s an open book. ;)

So there you go. Bravo to the costume designer, Jacqueline Durran!

How Do Ya Like Them Apples?

Sure, Derek heard the familiar sounds of Stiles’ Jeep pull up outside his building and the steady, but slightly-too-fast beating of Stiles’ heart getting louder and louder the closer the elevator got to arriving at his floor, so it wasn’t really a surprise when Stiles came bursting into his apartment moments later. But what was a surprise, was the words that came spilling out of Stiles’ mouth as soon as he entered and laid eyes on Derek, where he was perched at his kitchen counter with a book in front of him.

“I got in! I got into NYU, Derek!” Stiles exclaimed excitedly, and then, with a look of determination set into his features, he added “and you’re coming with me!”

Derek’s whole body kind of… spasmed a little. The book he had open on the counter top fell shut when his fingers involuntarily twitched out of the way. He recovered fairly quickly, but not fast enough that Stiles didn’t notice.

“It wasn’t a question dude,” Stiles continued as though Derek had protested. “I know you only had 2 years to go when you followed Laura back here and I know they kept a spot open for you for next year. And you’re going to go back and finish your degree and you can show me around campus and we can get an apartment together and it’ll be awesome.”

Stiles grinned at him, tried to look eager but relaxed about what he was saying, but Derek could practically see the anxiety buzzing through him and sense his trepidation. Derek meant to say a firm ‘no’, if for no other reason than because Stiles was telling him what to do and Derek resented that, but instead what came out was “How do you know I was at NYU?”

Stiles gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m more than a little offended that you don’t instantly recognize my superior detective skills at this point.”

“I didn’t ask them to hold my place. I can’t just go back to classes like I never left, Stiles,” Derek continued quickly.

“Yes you did. Well, as far as they’re concerned you did. You formally requested an extended leave of absence months ago and they accepted your request to resume classes with the new admissions next year,” Stiles’ face was twisted in smug satisfaction, even with the undercurrent of anxiety still running through him, as though he simply couldn’t help himself.

Derek sighed because he’d done no such thing.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” he murmured.

“Me either. You should know me well enough by now, dude. I made sure you were re-enrolled as soon as I sent my application in. Also, your signature wasn’t even a slight challenge, dude. After forging Dad’s monstrosity of an autograph on all my detention slips and grade reports through the years, yours was a piece of cake. You should probably work on that.”

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When you wanna join a fictional team

But the game developers don’t let you, even though Team Skull specifically asks at Po Town if you’re there to join them.

GIVE ME THE OPTION TO SAY YES! Why did you have them ask it if you weren’t going to give the option??? I really liked those losers by then.

I wanted to do something about the plot at that point. I was so tired of bailing Lillie out and her whole ‘GET IN THE BAG, NEBBY!’

I wanted the chance to cause mayhem and minor destruction with my children. I wanted to have Guzma send me on missions with Plumeria, because he knows that your 11 year old protagonist ass is far more competent than any of the other grunts in his team put together. So why can’t I go and choose to be a bad guy and decide to not go through with the rest of the trials, just to see what the end result would be?

I wouldn’t care about who the champion would be, because I’d be too busy hanging out with the other Team Skull grunts, arguing over stupid things and playing late night wii tournaments.

The whole Lusamine thing would still have to be addressed somehow but still-

Take my money for this kind of thing, Nintendo/game freak!

Let me play as a bad guy for once! Better yet, make it an option that you can battle real players on wifi who choose not to go the bad guy route! Let me take their in game money when they lose and 'steal’ a Pokémon until they are able to defeat me to get the Pokémon back (don’t worry; it’d be hanging out in Po Town- Team skull aren’t monsters-they’ll even groom and feed that Pokémon in the meantime)

*yells into the void* Let me live the bad guy dream as a Team Skull grunt!

interrupted (m) part VI


pairing: reader x ???

genre: angst. so. much. angst.

summary: part 6 of this trash i call a series.

word count: 3.1k (specifics: 3,095)

warnings/triggers: drinking, swearing, violence, blah… you know the drill

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anonymous asked:

could you do 52 "i don't think he loves me anymore" with some angst? + andreil

Dan gets home late from her coaching gig on Tuesday night, and they eat thai takeaway over styrofoam containers and cheap wine.

The TV’s the only light in the room, and it’s almost like the flicker of a fireplace, if they don’t look at it directly. Dan’s laughing and smooching stray noodle off of Matt’s cheek when there’s a knock on the door.

They make faces at each other. “It’s 10 pm,” Dan says. “This had better be life or death.”

Matt groans. “Don’t tempt fate.” He struggles out of the couch and passes his ginger beef off to Dan. “5 bucks says it’s Allison back from Guadala-whatever. Timezones mean nothing to her.”

“Bet denied. You know gambling isn’t the same when we have a joint bank account,” Dan complains and Matt laughs, dodging their side table and heading for the front door. He busily cracks open all of their locks and rattles the door until it unsticks.

“Hey!” he says, surprised. Neil’s scuffing their doormat with the toe of his shoe, dressed in old PSU colours. “A house call from Neil Josten, what an honour,” he jokes. Half-jokes. A visit from Neil is a confession that he missed you enough to actually do something about it.

Neil looks up at him blankly, and something is so obviously wrong that it shakes Matt. He takes silent note of the bag slung over his shoulder, the mottled redness of his eyes and face.

“Allison?” Dan calls, and Matt shakes his head without thinking.

“Neil,” he replies softly.

“Get out of town,” Dan says, voice getting louder as she floats towards them. She appears at Matt’s shoulder and grins. “Well if it isn’t our favourite competition.”

Neil usually says something obnoxious about Matt’s team not even counting as competition, but this time his mouth stays thin and snapped shut. Matt and Dan exchange a loaded glance.

“I need to ask you a favour,” Neil says finally.

“Anything,” Matt says.

“I need to stay somewhere,” Neil says, and Matt watches him gather himself like he’s finding his balance on a slick of ice.

“Where’s Andrew,” Dan says slowly. Neil looks at her, and then at Matt. He hasn’t seemed quite this small since he first showed up at the foxhole court with all his lies clenched between his teeth.

“I can find somewhere else,” Neil says, already turning to go. Matt catches him by the strap of his duffel.

“Oh no you don’t. We’ve got a couch with your name on it.”

“If Matt hasn’t destroyed it with peanut sauce,” Dan chirps. Neil looks back and forth between them again, his face in knots. Matt bodily pulls him over the threshold.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. We get how it is.” He looks over at Dan and she’s already nodding.

“Thanks,” Neil says, and he drops his bag heavily just inside the door. He eyes the TV. “What were you watching?”

“Not exy,” Dan replies. “You might have heard of it.” She flops back onto her side of the couch and tucks her feet under herself. Matt settles down opposite and watches Neil perch on the armchair like it’s made of something sharp.

“We can change it?”

Neil shakes his head, and his eyes drop. Matt feels metaphorical eggshells crunching under his heels. It’s never been this uneasy with Neil, even when they first met.

Neil picks at his armbands until he seems to realize what he’s doing, and he reaches under the sleeves of his hoodie to peel them off altogether. Dan shoots Matt a frantic look.

“Not to pry,” Dan starts, “but do you need us to call anyone?”

He looks up. “Like who?”

“Like…” she looks at Matt. “Your coach? Nicky, maybe? Kevin?”

“How would they help me?” Neil says flatly.

“Man, your Andrew impression is killer,” Matt grits, nerves pricking with frustration. Neil’s expression goes tight, distorted like canvas stretched to fit an oversized frame.

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Forgiveness

Word Count: 4519

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Mentions of suicide (Not major character), Deaths

A/N: Written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog ‘s trope challenge. My trope was pretend marriage. This is also my first long fic in…awhile. So I apologize for the horribleness of it in advance. 

Thanks to @nichelle-my-belle for being my awesome beta and extra extra special thanks to @chaos-and-the-calm67 for helping me come up with a plot. There would literally be no fic without her. 


You pulled up in the scrapyard next to the black Impala and threw your black ‘65 Challenger in park. You were half hoping that Sam would have come alone to work this case, but no such luck. If that car was here Sam definitely wasn’t alone. You’d have to deal with him. “Thanks for comin’ so quick, kid.” Bobby opened your door and pulled you out and into a hug.

“Anything for you, old man. You know that.” You giggled, breaking the hug and letting Bobby lead you to the door. “So I take it Dean’s here?”

“Yeah…we need to talk about that.” Bobby hesitated, opening the door and letting you in. As soon as you saw Sam propped up on the couch with his leg in a cast you spun around.

“No. No fucking way, Bobby!”

“Y/N…”

“No! The deal was I’m supposed to be fake married to Sam and he clearly is in no condition to work this case and I know what you’re about to say! Can’t we find someone else?”

“Come on, Y/N, I’m not that bad.” Dean rounded the corner, staring at you with that stupid smirk on his face. “Besides, it’s not like I really wanna be fake married to you either. Living in a house with you for as long as this case takes?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice increased in pitch as you whipped around to glare at Dean.

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anonymous asked:

What do I do if someone tries to steal my art?

Do you mean, what do you do if someone tries to take credit for your art, like if they post it on their page and claims they drew it?  Or do you mean, what do you do if someone reposts/uploads it elsewhere?

If they claimed they drew your picture, report them immediately.  They know what they did and they did it anyway.  (Same goes for tracing, IMO.  Traced art should NOT be posted online; that’s plagiarism)  

For reposting (aka. someone else uploading your art onto a different website such as Instagram) you should first decide what your reposting policy will be.  

  • Some artists allow people to post their art on different websites if they ask for permission.  
  • Some artists don’t require people to ask for permission but ask that they credit/link back to their website.  
  • Some artists only allow reposting on certain websites, but not others such as Youtube, which can be used to make money off of others’ artwork.
  • Some artists want their work to stay on their own website only, and don’t want other people to post elsewhere. (aka no reposting, period)  

One thing you will want to do is make sure you write down your reposting policy on your blog, somewhere easy to find, like the front page, or on your About Me/Info, etc.  

Another thing is SIGN YOUR ARTWORK, it is soooo important!  People aren’t always going to follow the rules.  They might have a repost of a repost of a repost they saw on Google somewhere and they won’t know where it originally came from because most people don’t bother to check. 

Large signatures/watermarks can be kind of an eyesore (plus you’ll feel kind of bad you have to “ruin” your artwork), but you have to make sure it’ll still be visible enough even after the quality of the picture is turned to crap because it’s been screenshotted like 20 bajillion times on instagram.  

Also, “unsightly” signatures/watermarks can help protect your picture from people using them in more nefarious ways, such as trying to sell t-shirts with YOUR design, or tote bags, mouse pads, etc.  Yes, they can still try to Photoshop them out, but if you put them somewhere difficult to remove then they probably won’t do a good job and it’ll look ugly.  So it’s worth a shot!

(I actually really love seeing watermarks/signatures because then I know where to go visit the artist and give them love directly)  

Anyway, I hope this helps!

anonymous asked:

31- things you said while I cried in your arms in kic verse please?

31) things you said while I cried in your arms

“Victor, it’s—”

“Don’t you dare say it’s fine.”

Yuuri sighs, stroking Victor’s hair as the man continues to cry in his arms. He needs him to calm down soon; it’s only a matter of time before someone walks by and spots them folded together in one of the plush armchairs in Yuuri and Mila’s office area. The editor-in-chief sobbing into his secretary’s chest—Yuuri shudders at the rounds of gossip that would provoke. The chat channels had just started to die down, too.

“People make mistakes,” Yuuri says gently.

Victor sniffles. “A mistake is pairing a thick belt with an A-line skirt. A mistake is wearing tweed and wool and flannel. Wearing zebra print in the middle of summer? That’s a mistake. But this,” he says tearfully, pointing an angry finger at the catalog that’s now been thrown on the floor. “This is a tragedy. Disrespectful. Assaulting.”

“I want to sue,” Victor continues. He gives Yuuri a pleading look. “Can’t I sue?”

“You can’t sue Balenciaga for having a bad design, Victor,” Yuuri reminds him.

“A bad design,” Victor repeats, wiping at the corner of his eyes. It’s not fair, Yuuri thinks absently. Even when he’s distraught, he’s so pretty like this. “That’s not a bad design. It’s not even a design at all. It’s a fucking IKEA bag—why are you looking at me like that? Shit, did I ruin my mascara?”

Yuuri startles, swallowing because his throat had gone dry. “No, no. Er. You’re good.”

Victor sighs forlornly, just as Chris walks in. The creative director looks distressed. “V-Victor, did you see the—”

“Yes, can you believe—”

And that’s how, later, Mila finds Yuuri’s arms full of both men sobbing into his neck, looking both anxious and apologetic about the situation. She’s tempted to join them because she’s seen it too, eyes still burning from the after-effects of it, but there’s work to do and deadlines to meet.

“Honestly, Yuuri,” she huffs, pulling all three of the men to their feet.

(based on this actual catastrophe)