yoga in the bathroom

playing footy

Yeah, yeah, one of what is sure to be many Captain Swan soccer AUs after today’s game. Featuring Elsa, since Georgina was also playing.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Elsa tossed her gym bag in the backseat and climbed into the Bug, pulling the door shut behind her, “Believe me, Emma, I will make it up to you, I promise.”

Emma threw the car into gear and started to back out, not even bothering to check for oncoming traffic. There was no oncoming traffic, it was six am on a Saturday and the streets were completely deserted. As well they should be, because who aside from her somewhat uptight roommate was up at six am on a Saturday? Emma hadn’t been, not after she’d only come home to their shared apartment less than five hours earlier after another fruitless stakeout for her latest skip. She’d been sleeping very well in her flannel pyjamas and the eyeliner she hadn’t bothered to wipe off when Elsa had burst into her room and woke her up, explaining breathlessly that her car wouldn’t start and she needed a ride. Elsa couldn’t drive stick, so Emma had thrown her hair in a messy topknot and swapped the pyjamas for yoga pants and a tank while Elsa paced outside the bathroom and called for her to hurry.

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50 Things To Do Between Your Study Sessions

1. Go for a walk
2. Get some snacks
3. Do some cleaning
4. Text someone you haven’t talked to in a long time
5. Call your parents/siblings
6. Get a coffee/tea
7. Read/watch news
8. Short dancing session
9. Draw random sketches
10. Work in your bullet journal
11. Plan out the next meal
12. Do yoga
13. Go to the bathroom
14. Watch one episode of your favorite TV show
15. Take a 20 minutes nap
16. Plan out the next day
17. Call a friend
18. Stretch a little
19. Go on tumblr
20. Watch YouTube videos
21. Make some funny snapchat pics and send it to your friends
22. Read some quotes
23. Write a blog post
24. Go grocary shopping
25. Water your plants
26. Write down 10 positive facts about you
27. Reflect on your week
28. “I’m grateful for…”
29. Post an instagram picture
30. Clean up your desk
31. Write a letter to a friend/family
32. Listen to audiobooks
33. Cook something delicious
34. Play a game
35. Make a new profile picture
36. Set the alarm for the next day
37. Fill out your habit tracker
38. Make a smoothy
39. Write a short story
40. Go jogging
41. Catch uo with your favorite blogs
42. Fine an outfit for the next day
43. Take a shower
44. Read
45. Look over old letters or photos
46. Reorganize you supplies
47. Make some new room decoration
48. Listen to music
49. Sing
50. Lay on your bed and daydream

hamiltonhistory  asked:


  • Who said “I love you” first (Johan)

Johan looks over at Usnavi doing one of those mundane house chores while the taller man lounges around. He takes it all in, how hard working his boyfriend was even when it was something as pointless as putting away the groceries. Slowly, Johan rose from his spot on the couch and walked over to the kitchen. He picked up one of the bags of groceries and started putting away alongside Usnavi.

“Well, well el vago mio is helping me?” Usnavi rolled his eyes, delicately putting things into the fridge. They didn’t speak, it was …strangely normal. As if they hadn’t just started living together, like they were a seasoned couple coexisting perfectly. Like…they weren’t kids playing house. This was real. Usnavi blushed, he felt silly for finding something is simple so heartwarming. He was just about done putting away when Johan kissed the top of his head.

“I love you.” He said nonchalantly. He watched as Usnavi froze in his place and chuckled a bit. “Sorry, too soon? It felt right. All of this and–” No more, Usnavi spun around and kissed him.
They were definitely not kids playing house anymore.

  • Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background (Both but different pics)

“Yo, primo, my phone died mind if I get it?” Sonny asked but was already reaching for the phone that sat, faced down on the top of the store counter. Usnavi was up on his ladder cleaning out the shelves when he heard Sonny. Immediately was about to deny him, when he saw his cousin turn his phone over and poke at the home screen button.

“ESPARA!” He wailed, forgoing his work and started stumbling down the steps. It was too late, by the time he got to Sonny they were both staring down at his lock screen photo. Johan, topless and slightly glistening with sweat as he sat crossed legged in his tight yoga pants. His eyes were closed and hair was up as if he was mediating. Shamelessly, Usnavi walked in on one of Johan’s yoga sessions and couldn’t help himself.

“It’s cool, I keep pics of Pete on my phone” Sonny smirked a bit as his cousin ripped the phone out of his hand. “But none of those pics are appropriate for a background~” That earned him a slap at the back of his head.

Meanwhile: Johan standing in line while someone approached him with a dinner and invite. “Sorry, I’m happily taken.” He took out his phone and opened to his home screen, being a selfie of him and Usnavi, Johan kissing Usnavi’s cheek as he smiled. “Isn’t he the cutest?”

  • Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror (Usnavi for important reasons)

Johan often leaves cute doodles on the fog of the mirror after his nearly two hour showers. He was surprised, one day after another especially long shower Usnavi had opened the door. “Babe?” He called out but heard the door shut immediately after. He figured Usnavi was heading out to man the store so the silence didn’t bother him. When Usnavi was in the zone, he was in the zone. Once he was done he was surprised to find there were words left on the mirror. And it read;

Amor, as much as I love and adore you, you don’t fucking pay for the water bill ok? You think the water is cheap, hijo de tu madre!! Take shorter showers JOHAN! … <3

Johan smiled a bit, a blush gracing his cheeks. “God I love that man.” He chuckled, taking his large hand and wiping over the message.

  • Who buys the other cheesy gifts (Usnavi 100%)

“So…” Usnavi walked in with a bag. Johan arched an eyebrow, it was not a plastic grocery bag or a paper bag from the store.

Johan slowly got to his feet. “Did you…” he gasped, “go shopping?” Suddenly his shock turned to a small pout. “Without me?! Navi how could you.” Shopping was one of Johan’s favorite things, though he was not a fan of the capitalist and consumerism of this counter. He did admire looking good, and if the said thing happened to be a hipster recycled, thrifted, worn, over expensive piece that he would only wear once…he wanted it. “Ugh don’t tell me you went to the 99cent store…those things get all of their shit from sweatshops in China.”

Usnavi fidgeted a little, he looked down at the dollar store bag and suddenly felt stupid. “Ah…fuck…” He pulled out a small snowglobe with a small Eiffel Tower inside. “…I know you miss France from time to time and I saw this and …sorry it’s stupid, I’ll return it.” He quickly shoved it back in the bag when Johan’s large hands ripped the bag from him. He tossed the plastic bag aside and held the snow globe in his hands.

“You got this for me?” He smiled a bit, shaking the globe so the sparkly white flecks were now raining down on the plastic tower. “Usnavi I love it.”
“Good, I won’t tell the sweatshop children that you love it too…” He frowned, noting to himself to stop purchasing his things from the dollar store.

  • Who initiated the first kiss (Johan)

Usnavi looked too good. His eyes fixated on the movie they were watching, their arms brushed up against each other. “This is the best part.” He whispered, not looking at Johan. He was so focused on the screen he didn’t notice, Johan wasn’t watching at all. Johan was watching Usnavi, his face completely focused on the scene playing out. While Johan couldn’t even remember what they were watching. Johan shifted his body a little, taking in how the light bounced off Usnavi’s face so wonderfully. How Usnavi watched intensely, his lips slightly parted.

“Hey…” Johan poked him a little, Usnavi turned his head and was met with a kiss. He inhaled sharply, letting the initial wave of shock wash over him. Immediately after, warmed soaked in through his lips and traveled down his body. He pushed back on those soft lips, melted into the kiss. Slowly Johan pulled away, eyes dilated with fear of what Usnavi would think. What he’d say…

Usnavi slowly touched his lips, they trembled, his eyes glossed over as he met Johan’s stare. “You missed the best part…” he mumbled, shifting closer to Johan. “You should have waited until the end…”

  • Who kisses the other awake in the morning (Usnavi)

“Fuck.” Not again, Usnavi felt the weight of his man on his body, arms clinging to his head, a leg around his waist. “Jesus!” He was up at the crack of dawn. His body a trained clock that someone could set their watches to. He shifted his weight and rolled to his side the best he could. He was face to face with Johan and that stupid eyemask. He sighed, another day he was set back a few minutes because someone hugged Usnavi like his life depended on it…Not that he complained. It was routine, Johan was now a part of it he was working with. Learning to make a routine around. Usnavi leaned in and placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s sleepy lips. “Good morning.”

“M…mmm…” Johan smiled a bit, usually a deep sleeper he was learning to wake up early thanks to Usnavi. Not that he liked it. “Nope, still asleep, need a few more of those.”

  • Who starts tickle fights (Johan starts but…Usnavi finishes them)

“You are so tense…” Johan had his body friend on his stomach, though no sex was happening. His large hands were working through years of tension built up along his lover’s body. “You need to learn to relax, babe.”

“Que relax? I’m relaxed!” He hissed, “I’m so relaxed right now.”
“Yes because relaxed people hiss.” He smirked, “you need to laugh more, you have so much pent up stress, let loose.”Johan ran his fingers down Usnavi’s sides, he tickled and proded at Usnavi but not sounds came from him. “…”
“I’m not ticklish.” Usnavi smirked, he sounded almost smug. He quickly rolled from under Johan’s hands now that he was taken back and pounced at his boyfriend. He ran his hands up Johan’s sides up to his pits and the tall man fell like Goliath and Usnavi was David. “But I see you are~” he smirked watching Johan’s frame crumple and his mouth wide, letting out wild peals of laughter.   

  • Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower (Johan but he doesn’t really ask)

“Babe I’m home from yoga, I need to take a shower.” Johan walked into the bathroom, finding Usnavi was already under the water.
“Too bad, I’m in.” He answered immediately. “And I’m not going to wait around for you to spend forever, our water bills are through the roof, Jo.”

Johan rolled his eyes, always about the bills this one, he thought to himself. “I have to shower, or else the bad energy will seep back into my pores.” Usnavi ignored Johan and began to whistle as he lathered himself up. He felt a cold wind against his body, he opened his eyes and found Johan, completely naked had pulled back the curtain.
“What are you doing!?” Usnavi gulped, red in the face and back against the cold, wet bathroom tile.
“Saving water for our water bills~”

  • Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch (Both)

“That was a great session ladies.” Johan smiled, he watched as his yoga class began to wrap up and he had another class starting in a few hours. One of the yoga students walked up to him and began to chat him up. She playfully slapped his arm and began to twirl her hair, clearly on the flirtatious front but Johan was blissfully unaware. His mind was more focused on food, his next session, going home to his Dominican lover. The door to his yoga class swung open and Usnavi stormed in. “Babe!”Johan smiled when suddenly a bag was shoved to his chest. “You got me lunch, how swe–” He felt the straps of his tank top get yanked down.

Usnavi planted a hard kiss on Johan’s lips and huffed. “Surprise, lunch date, lets GO.” He grunted, watching the woman slowly back off.
Rush hour was killing Usnavi. He rang up at least fifty people, working through his lunch hour so Sonny could yap on the phone. His phone had gone off several times but he had no time to answer it. Instead he learned to ignore the buzzing for now, focused on his work. He thought he had served just enough everyone when the store door chimed. He turned to greet who came in and smiled softly when he noticed it was Johan. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d ask you out to lunch but you didn’t pick up.” He pulled up a Whole Foods bag and placed it on the counter.

“Sorry I was busy…” he watched as Johan took out two salads, always thinking of keeping Usnavi healthy. Some fresh green looking juices and an electric, twist on candle. “How romantic.”
“Healthy and environmentally friendly, bon appetite~”

  • Who was nervous and shy on the first date (Usnavi)

“Navi’ you look fine.” Nina chuckled watching Usnavi pace the floor. It was his first real date with Johan. They were going to their first real date and it was a fancy dinner at a Tapas place. Johan had planned it all out and all Usnavi had to do was show up. Yup, show up, easy. No. “Usnavi you’ve already changed four times, you look fine.” She watched as Usnavi stopped in front of the mirror, he unbuttoned then rebuttoned the top button of his shirt. He fixed his collar three times and sighed. “Too casual…I should go with a tie, right? A tie…” He spun around feeling so…plain. A white button up and nice pants? Knowing Johan he was going to show up fashionable, dazzling…breathtaking. He started to break out in a sweat just thinking about how much of a drab disappointment he’d be. “Nina…call Johan, T-Tell him I’m sick.”
“Oh I will” Nina smirked, “Love sick. Usnavi chill.”

  • Who kills/takes out the spiders (Usnavi sorta)

“AHHHHHHHHH!” Johan screamed at the top of his lungs from the bedroom.

“QUE PASO?” Usnavi emerged with a baseball bat. He found his boyfriend in a small ball at the corner of his bed. “Babe? Baby…Jo what happened?” Usnavi was more than ready to kick ass and take no names. He watched as Johan pointed to a small, eight legged critter in the corner. “…are you fucking serious?” He dropped the bat and suppressed the urge to whack his beloved with it. “Johan…you’re parents were hippies, you were adopted into a tree cult when you were five, you use to camp like homeless people. You CANNOT be afraid of spiders.” He laughed a bit more exasperatedly than humorous.

Johan didn’t find it funny. “I got bit by a spider, and you know what my parents did when I got an allergic reaction? I spent five hours in a river with leeches stuck to my arm. I am not, getting bit by another spider AGAIN” He felt those old flashbacks hit him like wartime.

Usnavi honestly had no answer for him. He went over picking up a flipflop to end the creature when his boyfriend let out another heart wrenching screech. “CONO what now!?”

“…don’t…kill it just…take it out…please.” Johan muttered softly, his poor little expression. Usnavi sighed, putting down the flipflop he used his hand and cupped the spider, bravely, setting it out on the fire escape. “Thank you…” he smiled.

Usnavi slowly turned around and held up his now reddening hand. “Hey..uh…you think leechs will work or vics?” He blinked at his spider bite, while Johan screeched for a third time, reaching for the phone.

  • Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk (USNAVI DE LE FUCKIN’ VEGA)

Johan and Usnavi didn’t get out much. When they did they tried to make it an experience. Johan being new to New York City still and Usnavi, though a native, didn’t get out much. Something that came with their same sex relationship was the discovery of gay bars. Though Usnavi often said he didn’t really identify with gay. He was working through banishing gay man tropes he had grown up around, and the fact he was at one point very attracted to Vanessa. Usnavi was bisexual, and Johan-sexual if that was a thing. Gay bars were more Johan’s style, he shared a lot of similar interests, he knew how to work a crowd.

“So, did you come here alone?” A friendly stranger smiled at Johan who was temporarily alone at the bar. Johan had been working on his Bloody Mary after Usnavi downed shots like water. Eventually his boyfriend had to flee to pee and left Johan alone. “Someone as handsome as yourself can’t be single.”

He wasn’t, before he could answer from across the room emerging from the bathroom Usnavi wailed at the top of his lungs. “I LOVE YOU, JOHAN JOOOOOHNSON.” He swayed and stumbled over to Johan. “Mi amor, mi vida, mi carino, te amo, mi Jojojojooo~” He threw his arms over Johan and climbed on top of his lap. The friendly stranger took a few steps back as the small drunken man nestled himself on top of Johan.

“No. I’m taken.” Johan smiled, drinking his drink with one hand and patting Usnavi’s back with the other.

Tender Touches

Anonymous asked: bucky sees the reader doing yoga and has to go relieve himself??

A/N: Naughty naughty naughty

Warnings: Like… this is just pure smut. From start to finish, really. Hope you enjoy

Originally posted by marvxl-trash

Bucky Barnes liked you. A lot. It wasn’t just about your personality or your charm, though those were great traits you had, but he certainly didn’t mind looking at you. Ever since you showed up at the tower he has had a thing for you, and it started to get really bad one morning when he saw you bending down as you did yoga. 

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Beneath The Surface | 2

Originally posted by morekpopmore

Chapters: [1] [2] [3]

Pairing: Hoseok X Reader

Word Count: 2,253

Genre & Warnings: Not gonna lie, this chapter is pretty much just smut, even though I still don’t think I’m that good at writing it. And there’s some fluff. Next chapter is a ticket to angstville, so enjoy.

Note: I am pretty convinced that sex with Hobi would be loud as hell, and I love it. So I wrote a lot about that. Sorry, not sorry. 

You made your way up the steps to your apartment, Hobi so close behind that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. You couldn’t recall ever being this nervous to bring a guy home before. You didn’t know if it was just because he was an idol, or if it was because he was Jung Hoseok.

 Either way, you could feel yourself getting more and more anxious the closer you got to your place. As you reached the door, your hand shook a little as you tried to put your keys in the lock, and you ended up dropping them a couple times before you were finally successful. You swing open the door and drop to the floor to greet your Pomeranian, Momo. You can hear Hobi close and lock the door behind you, and you bury your nose into Momo’s fur, trying to calm your racing heart. Hobi drops down next to you and pats Momo’s head, and you both share a nervous grin.

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Daughter (Sherlock x Reader Imagine)

Title: Daughter

Pairing: Sherlock x Daughter!reader

Characters: Sherlock, John, Reader, Mary

Word Count: 1,554

Request: Hi I was wondering if I can request an imagine wherein reader is Sherlock’s daughter. Sherlock’s love interest died because of Moriarty and Sherlock’s too broken to take care of his daughter that John and Mary became her parents. Ending is reader has the deduction skills and deduced that Sherlock is her biological father??? If it’s not too much to ask. Thank you! Xx ~ Anonymous

A/N: First Requested Imagine Yay!! Feel free to request more! Preferably Sherlock but I might be able to branch out! Enjoy! Requests are OPEN, feel free to leave a request in my ask box or message me!


You had been born to loving parents who couldn’t financially provide for you. Your father had died at war, and your mother soon after. At least that was what you had been told, and you had questioned it every day of your life.

After you were born, you were raised by John and Mary Watson. While you loved them and they treated you as one of their own, you still felt like an outcast. You were the black sheep, the brunette in a house full of blondes.

Not only were you physically an outcast, but academically you thrived at a rate not seen before. You kept yourself busy, reading, exploring new sciences, but there was always one question eating away in the back of your mind… What happened to my parents?

John and Mary have always been suspiciously quiet about your parents, to the point where you had given up asking about them. You knew they were lying– the side glances, the nervous blinking, the sigh of relief when you left the room– but you needed to find the truth on your own.

One afternoon you hit your breaking point. After three hours of delving into hacked private records, you had found nothing. Nothing. Nothing to the point where it was suspicious. Even your birth certificate had been redacted. What kind of normal 18 year old has their birth certificate redacted by the government. Conclusion: You weren’t normal. Your parents, or at least one, was more important than John and Mary seem to let on. And at least one of them was alive. If they were dead there would be no reason to protect their identity by redacting it. There was also a chance that you had known them your whole life– someone important enough to redact would want to keep an eye on their child.

Three firewalls later MI5’s archives still came up empty. You were going to have to run your own experiment in finding your birth parents.

First: Woman or Male? Which one is still alive? A woman would be less willing to leave her child if she had lost her husband. They’re stronger that way, they want to hold onto that last piece of him. But if the woman had died, the father could have been more likely to give the child up to a trustworthy friend. Especially if their job was important or dangerous, they couldn’t possibly raise a child without a mother. Conclusion: Mother died, it was too much for the father to take, and you were placed in the hand of a friend.

Luckily for you, your parents didn’t have that many friends. And ones with important dangerous jobs narrowed down the list a little more too. First there was Lestrade, but his wife is still alive, though they’re going through a divorce so we can rule him out. There was Mike Stamford, though you didn’t consider a medical trainer a dangerous job. Mycroft? Talk about important there, but also very likely that he has ever had a romantic relationship of any kind. That left Sherlock. His job was dangerous, but you had many doubts about his romantic capabilities as well. As long as you had known him he had been cold and calculating… was this the effect of a lost love? You were going to need more evidence to come to a final conclusion.

You sat at the breakfast table with your dad, well, John. Mary was already at work and it was summer so you didn’t have school. Needless to say you were extremely bored and no number of books in the world could entertain you. John was reading the paper while you picked at your food.

“Did you read about this yoga teacher found dead in his bathroom, doors locked, candles lit, but died from–” John began but you cut him off.

“Asphyxiation. I glanced over it, bit obvious isn’t it?” You said casually.

“Obvious?” John lowered the paper.

“It was the flatmate. Read it again.” You instructed.

“Y/N Watson if you’re making this up–” John protested.

“I’m not! I’m just bored! Can we please go do something today, I can’t stay cooped up here all day I might go mad.” You begged desperately.

“We could go visit Mrs. Hudson, you haven’t seen her in a while.” John suggested.

“Perfect!” You exclaimed and rushed upstairs to change, making sure to add a few deductions for Sherlock to complete your plan. You had a hunch, and you just had to follow it.

After the short drive from your house to Baker Street, you slipped upstairs while John was helping Mrs. Hudson with the tea.

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, clearly just as bored as you were. He didn’t seem to notice you until you had sat in John’s old chair opposite him. He looked up to you and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his fingers steepled under his chin.

“We’re just stopping by, dad will be up soon.” You said, looking for any sign of change is his face when you called John ‘dad’. Nothing.

“I mean after.” He said, spotting your expertly placed deductions for him, falling into your trap.

“Oh, I’ve got a date later if that’s what you mean.” You smiled casually.

“A date?” He asked, raising his voice slightly.

“You know, where two people go out and have fun. I think you’d like him, he rides a motorcycle. Big, probably in a gang, full of sperm.” You said, and Sherlock jumped to his feet, anger in his eyes. As human error at it’s finest.

“What!?” He yelled.

“Jesus, I’m kidding, calm down, we’re just meeting mum for dinner later.” You laughed, and he sat back down looking you over curiously. He seemed to stare for ages, before your voice filled the silence.

“In a universal time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” You spoke.

“Sorry?” He asked confused.

“I don’t trust words, I even question actions. But I never doubt patterns.” You said and Sherlock raised his eyebrow.

“And what patterns are you speaking of?” He asked curiously.

“You.” You stated.

“Me?” He asked, sitting up in his chair.

“Yes, you. Ever since I can remember, every time our eyes meet, you look away. Like it’s too painful for you. It’s the one thing I can rely on every time I see you. But why would your best friends kid be painful to you? Another pattern, which I’m sure John chooses to ignore, is the fact that you’re always high on my birthday. I’m surprised you show up to the parties at all. See, I’ve been doing a bit of research, most of it inconclusive, hacking into MI5 just isn’t as fun as it used to be.” You began.

“Y/N…” Sherlock said.

“If my whole life has been a lie, I need you to tell the truth right now. Sherlock Holmes, are you my father?” You asked, a tear slid down your cheek and his eyes grew wide. Your head turned sharply when you heard a teacup shattering on the floor in the doorway. John stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“How long have you known?” Sherlock asked, not denying your question.

“I think part of me has always known, and I’ve pushed the thought away out of fear. Not the fear that it was true, but fearful of finally knowing why. Why you gave me up? How my mother died, assuming she is dead.” You said.

“Y/N, this really isn’t the time–” John began.

“It’s exactly the time! I deserve to know! I’m 18 for god sakes!” You yelled, standing to face John. You were angry, you hoped you had been wrong, that John and Mary were telling the truth and that maybe you just had an overactive imagination.

You felt a hand grab your own, and you turned to see Sherlock reaching out to you.

“Don’t take it out on him. This was my doing not his.” Sherlock said, sadness in his eyes. “You want the truth?”

“Yes.” You pleaded.

“I loved your mother, and when we had you everything seemed to be fitting into place. I never thought I could have a normal life, and I was right. Have you heard of a man named James Moriarty?” He asked, you nodded.

“The consulting criminal.” You answered and John looked to you curiously, “I read more than I should.” You answered.

“He killed your mother on your first birthday, and it broke me. I couldn’t raise a baby alone. John helped, then Mary came along and it just got harder and harder for me to see you. I mean, Jesus Y/N you look just like her. I got worse and worse, and no amount of narcotics could numb the pain. You were almost two when John and Mary took you in permanently. I was in no state to raise a child, I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I just wanted you to have a chance!” Sherlock cried and you looked up to him in awe.

You cautiously wrapped your arms around him. He held onto you tighter and continued to apologize.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m here, I’m safe, and I have three great parents.” You smiled, and you knew everything was going to be okay.

Lunchtime Drabble: Training the Inhuman (2/?)

Pairing: Avengers x Reader for now. Relationships develop as I go.
Word Count: 1058 (a little long today)
Warnings: short reader, fluff, fighting, a little angst.

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

Y/N found Bruce in his lab, head bent over a computer monitor in deep concentration.

“Hey, Dr. Banner,” she said softly, not wanting to jar him out of his thoughts. It didn’t work, he still jumped.

“Oh, Y/N, hey, what can I do for you?” he adjusted his glasses as he looked up and gave her a small smile.

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Think Quickly

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Word Count: 1,394
Triggers: Attempted suicide, drug overdose
Find it on AO3
Summary: Zoe has always been calm under pressure, which comes in handy when she comes home to find her brother having taken a fistfull of pills.

Zoe turned her key in the lock, swinging open her front door with force. She had planned to stay after school and do her homework in the library, but apparently the library was always closed on the first day. Just her luck. She, Zoe Elise Murphy, had managed to go through two fucking years of highschool without picking up on that. And, of course, they had told her this after all the busses left, so she had to walk all the way home. She flung her backpack to the ground with gusto and went into the kitchen to get a granola bar, but she stopped short when she heard something from upstairs. It sounded like something crashed in Connor’s room.

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First attempt at a Negan fanfic. Language and adult content (Smut). Please let me know what you think. 

@negans-network @neganmorgan @mypapawinchester @jeffreynegan 


Dark auburn curls fall down my back as I shake them free of the messy bun that kept them at bay. It had been too long since I’d been able to take the time to fully wash and condition my hair. But today, today I was taking full advantage of the freedom.

Negan had joined Simon and Dwight in dealing with the assholes who killed our people at the outpost. What kind of monsters would sneak in and kill people in their sleep? I shudder at the thought, now more thankful for the undead guards that loomed outside the Sanctuary walls.

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sometimes you can’t always eat healthy so swallow the remaining bites of the fast food and stop punishing yourself. you ate today. that’s enough.

sometimes you can’t always exercise or do yoga so thank yourself for walking the three steps to the bathroom or the kitchen before crawling back into bed. you moved today. that’s enough.

sometimes you can’t take a shower or brush your hair but you opened your eyes this morning and breathed. you’re conscious. that’s enough.

don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not “doing enough” for your anxiety or depression or any other mental illness you might have.

you’re surviving the best you can and you’re alive. that’s enough.

obscurebroadway  asked:

Connor Murphy Headcanons???. In freshman year, he had hair that was really long (like mid-back) and Zoe called him a dirty hippie. He wears it in a man bun sometimes. He shaves EVERYTHING (because he can). He has like 13 fidget spinners, all different colors. He uses a fidget cube in class. He was like 5′6 in sophomore year and then he just gREW

Connor Murphy headcanons are always wanted and welcome! And !!!!! THESE ARE GOOD SHIT 

Freshman Connor’s hair was. SO. long. I adore it. He would of kept it that long but it honestly got completely out of control especially since his hair has curl to it and Connor didn’t put enough effort into his hair to keep it from becoming a knotted mess. Larry wanted him to fully cut it, and Connor was ready to grow it even longer. Cynthia had to mediate, and they agreed to cut it a bit below shoulder length. Zoe and Larry still want to cut the rest of it off. 

And the man bun is DEFINITELY a thing and that always makes me happy. I’m convinced he always has two elastics on his wrist, so he has easy access to put his hair up. He puts it up when he’s driving, exercising, or just really trying to focus. 

And him shaving EVERYTHING isn’t something I’ve considered before but I love it??!! I can imagine him just feeling, uncomfortable when he’s not shaved. But because he has really long legs shaving his legs tends to become an event that involves inventing a few new yoga poses. On Connor’s better days you can sometimes find him in the bathroom humming along with some music as he’s bent in half to shave behind the legs. 

So. Many. Fidget. Toys. His favorite spinners are a dark purple one, a black one, and a blue one. And I imagine the fidget cube is black? Just because he’s got to keep up the aesthetic. He really can’t function in class without it because his anxiety is so bad. And part of the reason he has so many fidget toys is they keep getting taken away by teachers, and occasionally another student tries to take it from him.  (connor may have punched the student who tried to take his cube). 

And the last one just is??? So perfect???!!! And makes me really happy honestly omg this is my favorite thing. Sophmore/Freshman Connor is so short, and probably being self conscious about it too. But he just. SHOOTS UP. It’s a total growth spurt that nobody saw coming. Cynthia feels like she’s buying him a new wardrobe every other week. And Connor’s grumpy because god damn it he’s sore from growing pains. But one day he walks into school and realizes he’s looking down on people now and fuck this is great??? He really loves his new height, and everyone else is just shocked by it. 

Once a Frat Boy, Always a Frat Boy. | Calum Hood - Part 8.

Summary: In which a new student, (Y/N), finds herself becoming the toy to popular frat boy Calum Hood. The only problem is that (Y/N) was warned about Calum her first day on campus, and Calum just so happens to be dating (Y/N)’s best friend, Callie Mitchell. She hates him. She hates him more than she’s hated anyone ever before; however, she can’t help the growing feeling inside of her stomach after she finds out some very interesting things about Calum that no one had ever known before.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Calum/Reader (bonding?)

Requested?: Yes. :’)

A/N: This is more like a filler chapter. The next one will be better, I promise! Please keep reading, this series is close to half way over. :(

Keep reading

“It’s all in your head” false. It’s also in my stomach. And my bloodstream. And my entire body actually YOU SEE

I didn’t take my meds on time because I was asleep (common symptom of low serotonin) and the half-life is crappy and subsequently there are fewer serotonin and norepinephrine transporters in my brain inhibiting re-uptake of these essential neurotransmitters and resulting in less of them in my brain, which affects the overall chemistry of related neurotransmitters (such as closely related precursor dopamine, you know that one right?) and this deficit causes a wide range of seemingly unrelated symptoms with a neurological cause, and exacerbated by pre-existing circumstances, some of which I don’t even know about,

but thanks for your concern Kathy I’ll take your yoga advice to heart while I’m sitting on the bathroom floor for hours trying to force myself to shower and think of how good I’ll feel afterwards and oh my God dopamine is produced when doing rewarding tasks I haven’t showered in a week what is wrong with me why the fuck can’t I do this why am I still sitting on the floor what the fuck aaaaaaaaa

The Morning After

“Let’s go home,” she whispered softly as they walked out of the archives. She was lightly rubbing his back with her right hand and holding his left hand in hers, helping him remain stable as he walked.

“Thank you for your assistance, lieutenant. Although, I feel it is you who should be leaning on me for strength after your ordeal.”

“Oh, I will, Crane. You can count on it. But for right now, you need to get your bearings. My adrenaline will keep me going until we get to the house.”

“At least allow me to drive,” he said as he took the keys from his coat pocket.

She swiped them playfully from his hand. “Not a chance.“


They didn’t say much along the way, both satisfied with softly touching each other’s hands on the center console between turns. This is real. We are here. By the time they arrived at the house, her body was beginning to feel the need for the things it had been lacking for the past ten months. Food. Drink. Sleep. A shower. She was beginning to feel weak and achy. This time, Ichabod assisted her in the walk up the front steps and opened the door for her. He guided her to the sofa and sat next to her. She immediately rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. Silence. Sweet, comfortable, reassuring silence. This was truly home. Here. Together.

“Abbie,“ he whispered after a while. “What do you need? Shall I get you some water?”

“Yes, thank you. And maybe something to eat? Just something small.”

He rose and began to look around the kitchen.

“Apple slices…,” he announced as he took a ripe red fruit from the bowl on the counter, “and…" He searched in the kitchen cabinets. “Crackers.“ 

“Perfect.” She smiled. “Know what though, Crane? I really think I need a hot shower first.”

“Of course. Your sustenance shall be ready for you when you return.”


Abbie closed the bathroom door. She turned on the water. She felt the steam dampen her skin. She breathed it in. She took off her clothes and stepped in. Ten months. Ten months of isolation, fear, desperation all washing away. She cried. She cried out of sadness, anger, relief. And she cried because of Ichabod Crane. That strange man who showed up as a suspect at the precinct so long ago was now the most important person in the entire world to her. And the fact that she was here with him now was all she needed to feel whole.


He arranged the apple slices on a plate with some crackers, and a few pieces of sharp cheddar cheese. She needs protein. He brought the plate and a glass of water into the living room and set them on the coffee table. He sat. He looked at the food, the water, her shoes where she had kicked them off near the door. He heard the water turn on. She was truly here. She was home. With him. And he never wanted her to be anywhere else again.


She came out of the bathroom in a gray T-shirt, black yoga pants, and a thin, dark green zip-up hoodie, and fuzzy socks. His eyes widened as he smiled sweetly.

“You look rejuvenated, Lieutenant.”

“I am feeling a bit more like myself,” she smiled.

She sat next to him and curled her legs under her as he handed her the plate. They sat in silence as she ate a bit of everything he had prepared for her. After her third piece of apple, she set the plate down.

“Guess I have to start slowly with that. Stomach’s waving the white flag already. I have a feeling sleep will be much easier to readjust to.”

Ichabod immediately stood and helped her rise from the couch. He kept her hand in his as he began to walk her to her room.

“I could use more water, though.”

“Of course. You go ahead and I shall-”

“I’ll wait here for you.”

She squeezed his hand.

He smiled and nodded before quickly filling her glass. She put her arm in his as he walked her to her bed. He set the water on her nightstand and stood behind her, helping to remove her hoodie. She sat on the bed and tried to take off her socks, but her muscles were getting sore and she was having some trouble bending.

“Allow me. Please.”

Crane crouched down in front of her and took one petite foot in his hands. One hand slid gently up her calf and slipped the sock off. He softly caressed her foot for just a moment, then did the same with the other.

She slid back, slipped her legs under the covers and rested her head on the pillow. Crane covered her with the sheet.

“Blanket?” he offered.

“Nah, not right now. This is good. Thanks.”

“Good night, Lieutenant.”

As he turned toward the door, she stopped him.

“Stay with me, Crane.”

He turned to her, not saying a word, walked to the bed and sat beside her.

”I just, I’ve been alone-“

“Say no more.”

He took his boots off and she pulled the sheet back for him. He lay beside her and enveloped her in his long, sturdy arms. She rested her head on his chest and they both drifted off to peaceful sleep.


Abbie awoke to the sun streaking into her bedroom. She slowly opened her eyes and began to get her bearings. Where am I? She looked around. She was home. In her bed. Safe. And…not alone. She was lying on her side and felt a rustle in the sheets behind her. As she tried to turn, she realized Crane’s arms were still wrapped tightly around her. She wriggled around to face him, and just looked at his peaceful face for what was probably minutes, but it felt like hours. Eventually he began to stir and his eyes flitted open.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

She said nothing, but tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“You…you stayed here all night.”

“Of course.” He smiled slightly. “Had you awoken in the night and I was not here, I thought perhaps you would have become frightened or disoriented. And..”

“And what?”

“Had I awoken in the night in my bed, I surely would have found myself returning to your side.” He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "To make sure you were indeed here.“

The tears that had started to well began to streak down the side of her face as she looked into his eyes. Their faces moved closer and she touched her lips to his soft beard. Their mouths met. They kissed tentatively at first, with a hint of apprehension at taking this step. Quickly, though, their lips and tongues fell into an exquisite rhythm and they were completely consumed by the release of feelings too long held inside.



He pulled back slightly.

“Ichabod? Well, that’s new.”

Abbie bit her lower lip for a moment and whispered, “Yeah, well, it feels a little strange calling the man I love by his last name.”

He smiled and brought his lips to hers again.

“I love you, Abbie.”