you should just take it off

youtube

Worthy holding his bit in his mouth!
He has held the bit for a second before, but yesterday he just held it. It was so cool! I think the reasons why he held it are because he was very sleepy yesterday, he really likes this bit, and he’d had the bridle on for a while before I went to take it off.

@upcomingfarrierstudent and @themotherfuckingclickerkid I think you’d like to see this!

anonymous asked:

tumblr mom you went to college you know things can you give me advice pls? i’m questioning whether college is the best thing for me right now or even at all, i’m only at community college currently and it’s difficult for me bc of mental illness. i don’t know if i should take a semester off to try to learn to function a bit better or if college just isn’t a good fit for me period? i don’t really have anyone i could ask about this in person and i’m not sure what to do

hmm well maybe try slowing down a bit. Maybe only take a few classes rn, give yourself a happy medium. Take your time and do well and focus on your health, but dont stop completely?

if someone asks me to take off my headphones i better hear something useful next like “excuse me but your bag is spilling under the table, i thought you should know” or “it looked like you didn’t hear the announcement, but the library is closing in two minutes” if the words coming out of your mouth are anything like “do you have a boyfriend” those headphones are going right back on like i never saw you in the first place

youtube

Stephen Wrabel  has made a strong and beautiful anthem about transgender lives 

“This song is the most important thing to me that I have ever done and probably will ever do. It’s the closest thing to my heart,” Wrabel tells Billboard. (Photo above)

“I came out as gay around 23 into a church in Los Angeles that told me I could and should change; that I was unnatural and wrong. I hope this reaches anyone in need of it and makes them feel like they’re not alone.”

The main role is played by trans actor August Aiden.

I love this song!

Here are the lyrics:

No, your mom don’t get it
And your dad don’t get it
Uncle John don’t get it
And you can’t tell grandma ‘cause her heart can’t take it
And she might not make it
They say, “don’t dare, don’t you even go there. Cutting off your long hair. You do as you’re told.”
Tell you, “wake up, go put on your makeup. This is just a phase you’re gonna outgrow.”

There’s something wrong in the village
In the village, oh
They stare in the village
In the village, oh
There’s nothing wrong with you
It’s true, it’s true
There’s something wrong with the village
With the village
There’s something wrong with the village

Feel the rumors follow you from Monday all the way to Friday dinner
You got one day of shelter, then it’s Sunday hell to pay, you young lost sinner
Well I’ve been there, sitting in that same chair
Whispering that same prayer half a million times
It’s a lie though
Buried in disciples
One page of the Bible isn’t worth a life

2

I would like to take this moment to wholeheartedly appreciate what a Dad Move this is. 

Reigen dressed in (name brand?) athletic gear, showed up at his son’s Mob’s race, and proceeded to find & run alongside him with a freakin pacer just because he wants to help Mob achieve his goal. And it makes me so happy.

Reigen is THE dorky dad yelling his kid on at the sporting event. What a loser. My heart is full. 

So in light of all the crazy shit that happened to Akechi cosplayers at AWA this past weekend, I think it’s about time we all sit down as a fandom and have a serious talk. I’m not here to preach at you or tell you why bullying cosplayers is wrong. This is shit you should already know. What I would like to do is just sort of… raise awareness, I guess; remind everyone that if you see an Akechi cosplayer being harassed, you’re not powerless. You can help. All it takes is one person coming to somebody’s aid to change the outcome of these types of scenarios. Tell the asshole in question to fuck off or, if assault in involved, call the police. Because yes, we’ve gotten to that point in fandom now where legal action can (and should) be taken. Personal feelings about Akechi aside, we’re all human beings and we all love the same thing. This shouldn’t be guerilla-fucking-warfare. It’s a videogame. Goro Akechi’s a fictional character.

Spread this shit like wildfire, guys. Because this isn’t exclusive to this fandom, either. It’s becoming a serious problem.

4

Jun saw it coming, but it’s gonna bite back someday, Wonwoo. Took an entire year for him to take revenge on Dino though.

just rembering that dan still has the plushie that phil gave to him during their first Christmas in 2009 :(

Hunk: Oh geez, sorry, dude! He had a rough work day! I can take him off—

Keith: IT’S FINE!

Hunk: Uh…are you sure? I mean, Lance can be pretty heav—

Keith: I said it’s fine! *coughs* I mean…I don’t really mind…


Lance works a lot of part-time jobs aside from being Mr. Blue and often falls asleep at the oddest times. Meanwhile, Keith can’t fathom whether he should call himself lucky or not (because his heart rate keeps going off the roof). Hunk is just confused.

Mr. Blue AU (x)

His Warmth (M)

Word Count: 3532
Member: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: Cum-play, Biting, Lots of cute bc I’m in love with Jimin

It’s been two months since your boyfriend went on tour and you haven’t been able to see him, so when you unexpectedly wake up to him in your bed you just can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.

c.

Keep reading

3

always // panic! at the disco

everybody wants to love you!

anonymous requested: for the soulmate prompt thing at first i was like aww for number 18 but then i just imagined modern reddie and eddie has fucking all star by smashmouth stuck in his head who the fuck is singing all start oh it’s richie (also on ao3)

Everyone knew that if a song was stuck in your head, it was because your soulmate was singing it. Eddie had always thought it was cute until it began happening to him. Now the main reason he wanted to meet his soulmate was to strangle them for singing such annoying songs.

Eddie struggled to concentrate on the textbook in front of him. He groaned and closed the book, resting his face in his hands. Bill gave him a concerned look over his laptop.

“Something wrong, Eddie?” he asked.

The brunet looked at him in exasperation. “They’re singing again. Why do they always have to start singing whenever I’m doing something important!?”

Bill smiled sympathetically. “What is it this time?”

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me / I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed / She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb / In the shape of an “L” on her forehead

“Fucking ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth. I hate my life, Bill.”

His friend laughed. “You say that now but you’ll change your mind when you meet your soulmate.”

The hypochondriac rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Bill. You’re not the one with a soulmate that sings meme songs and weird indie shit. I wish my soulmate sang pretty songs like yours,” he grumbled.

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play / Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid / And all that glitters is gold / Only shooting stars break the mold

Eddie whined again and buried his face in his arms.

“I want to die.”

He shot Bill a glare when he laughed.

-

“Are we rehearsing tonight?” Bill asked the lead singer and founder of their band.

Richie groaned. “I don’t want to but we have to keep practicing that song we’re gonna cover for the show on Friday, which is two days from now. So yeah, we’re rehearsing.”

Bill snorted. “Alright, I’ll let Bev know then.”

He left to call their bassist and Richie leaned back in the lounge chair in the Student Union. He began to hum the tune of their new song. The trashmouth pulled out his notebook and scribbled down some notes and lyric ideas.

I come home in the morning light / My mother says when you gonna live your life right / Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones / And girls they wanna have fun / Oh girls just want to have fun

Richie smiled wide as he stilled his hand. He really wanted to meet his soulmate. From what he could gather by their taste in music, they’d be fun to be around.

“What are you smiling about?”

He looked up. Bill sat down across from him, eyebrow raised knowingly. Richie’s cheeks reddened as he looked back to his notebook.

When the working / When the working day is done / Oh when the working day is done oh girl / Girls, they wanna have fun

“My soulmate’s singing.”

Bill nodded, a smirk forming. “Beverly’s on her way,” he told him. “She’s bringing dinner, also.”

“God bless her fucking soul.”

-

Eddie watched as Stan threw himself dramatically on the couch in his apartment. He groaned loudly before regaining his composure and sitting up.

“Everything okay, Stan?” Eddie asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

The curly haired teen looked up at him. “Yes and no.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, I’m fine as in there isn’t anything actually wrong with me. No, I’m not fine because my soulmate won’t stop singing love songs.”

Eddie gave him a jealous look. “I’d take that over getting ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ stuck in my head every hour.”

Stan snorted. “I really want to meet them but it’s unlikely. I just hope the chances are good enough that we go to the same university.”

“I get what you mean. I want to meet my soulmate and beat the crap out of them for getting all those shitty songs stuck in my head, but yeah, I also want to meet them for the obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Eddie, but your soulmate sounds like a fucking nightmare,” his friend said. “Anyway, ready to start this dumbass history project?”

Eddie groaned and went over to the TV and turned it on.

“By the way, my roommate might be back, like, halfway through this documentary,” he explained as he inserted the DVD.

“I’m warning you now but history is honestly the most boring subject so don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep, which is very likely. Just pay extra attention,” Stan told him, pulling his feet up on the couch.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat with him on the couch, pressing the play button. He tried to focus but the dull voice of the narrator explaining the French Revolution was making it hard. That and the new song stuck in his head.

Your sister thinks that I’m a freak / She’s been ignoring my calls, we haven’t spoken in a week / I get so drunk that I can’t speak / Yeah, nothing’s working and the future’s looking bleak and I say

“Really? Now of all times?”

“Song stuck in your head?” Stan asked as he repositioned himself to lie down.

Eddie nodded miserably. “Yeah, and it sounds loud. You know what I mean.”

“No, not really.”

Three beers and I’m so messed up, get drunk and I can’t shut up / She says that I drink too much / I fucked up and she hates my guts / She says that I need to grow up

“It always happens when I really need to focus. I feel like they know,” Eddie explained.

“Well, block it out and pay attention. I can feel my soul dying as this documentary progresses.”

The hypochondriac laughed at his friend and drew his legs up on the couch so he was sitting crisscross.

I’ll drink ‘til I’m staring at the ceiling / I’ll be just fine I’m numb and losing feeling / I can’t tell lies anymore

“What are we even supposed to do for this assignment?” Stan asked, looking over at Eddie.

He shrugged. “I think we’re supposed to watch the documentary and then write some questions? Our professor said he’d pick the best ones and use them as essay questions for the next test.”

“Shit.”

I just don’t know what to do, I’m still fucked up over you / She says that I drink too much / Hawaiian red fruit punch / She says I need to grow up

“It shouldn’t be too bad considering the French Revolution is pretty straightforward,” said Eddie.

His friend groaned again, leaning his head back against the couch. “Kill me.”

True to his word, Stan fell asleep about ten minutes in. Eddie tried his best to pay attention, scribbling down possible ideas for questions, but four more songs came and went. The documentary had just ended when he heard the apartment door open. He looked up from the TV where he was removing the disc.

“Hey,” Eddie waved. “How was practice?”

Bill dropped his bookbag on the ground and headed into the kitchen.

“It was good,” he told Eddie as he poured himself a bowl of cereal before draping himself over the armchair. “We got a lot of stuff done and perfected the two covers we’re doing for Fridays show. Which you better still be going to.”

Eddie rolled his eyes when Bill gave him a pointed look. “I’m going.”

He grinned. “Good. Anyway, what the hell were you watching?”

“It was for a stupid assignment for my history class. Speaking of, Stanley, wake up! It’s over.”

He shoved Stan with his foot, jerking him awake.

“Okay, first off? Rude. Secondly, your couch is very uncomfortable, please tell me you don’t make guest sleep here.”

Eddie shrugged at him. “Do you wanna, like, stay and get take out or something?”

Stan stood up, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up a bit. “No, I should probably get back to my apartment and hope my roommate hasn’t burned it down,” he replied.

He seemed to just now notice Bill. “Oh, you must be Eddie’s roommate. I’m Stanley.”

Bill smiled at him and Eddie noticed Stan’s cheeks flush. “Bill.”

“Nice to meet you. Anyway, I should head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie said his goodbyes as he walked out of the apartment. He noticed how his roommate’s eyes lingered on the doorway.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, is he single?” Bill asked, looking back at Eddie.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head as he walked back to his room.

“What, Eddie? Are you going to answer my question or not?” his roommate shouted after him.

He ignored him in favor of his phone vibrating. He checked to see that it was a text from Stan.

[ from: bird boy ] Okay so uhh

[ from: bird boy ] Your roommate is hot as fuck

[ from: bird boy ] Like,, raw me please

[ to: bird boy ] never ever ever make me read those words ever again in my life

[ from: bird boy ] Pass the word on to him I’m begging you

[ to: bird boy ] im blocking you

-

“Is it okay if my roommate joins us for lunch? I promised I’d go with him last week but obviously forgot and then made plans with you. He just texted me asking where we’re meeting.”

Richie looked up and Bill and laughed. “Fine with me, Big Bill. You talk a lot about your roommate. I’m excited to meet him.”

Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Slow down, they don’t love you like I love you / Back up, they don’t love you like I love you / Step down, they don’t love you like I love you / Can’t you see there’s no other man above you? / What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you / Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Oh, down, they don’t love you like I love you

He cracked a smile. “I really want to meet my soulmate.”

Bill raised an eyebrow.

“Beyoncé.”

His friend snorted and rolled his eyes before returning to texting his roommate about his whereabouts.

How did it come down to this? / Scrolling through your call list / I don’t wanna lose my pride, but I’m a fuck me up a bitch / Know that I kept it sexy, and know I kept it fun / There’s something that I’m missing, maybe my head for one

“Okay, he’s on his way. I told him I’d order for him so let’s get going.”

Richie nodded and followed Bill into the restaurant. They ordered their food, with Bill ordering also for his roommate, before diving deep into conversation.

“Bill, I swear to god, if you ask about him again I’m going to kill you.”

A short brunet stopped abruptly behind Bill, unaware of Richie’s presence. He took this time to admire him. He was cute. Really cute. Richie grinned.

“Hiya,” he said with a grin, taking the newcomer’s eyes off his friend.

“This is my friend Richie. Richie, this is my roommate Eddie,” Bill explained. “He’ll be having lunch with us if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie gave Richie a quick once over and a small smile before sitting down next to Bill. Their food arrived shortly after and they began to eat.

“So, Eddie,” the trashmouth began. “Are you coming to our show on Friday?”

Eddie looked up, his look a bit skeptical. “Our show?” he repeated.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the band from Bill.”

“You’re in that band?”

Richie laughed. “Eds, I formed that band!”

He grimaced. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The dark-haired teen reached over and pinched his new friend’s cheek. “But its cute, like you!”

Eddie slapped his hand away, only looking mildly embarrassed. He glanced at Bill.

“Is he always like this?” he asked.

Bill looked at his friend and sighed. “Sadly.”

Richie placed his hand on his chest in mock offense. “You hurt me, Bill. This isn’t how you were treating me last night. Why do you always have to act so different when we’re in public?” he whined as he began to pretend to cry dramatically.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Richie grinned wide and pushed his chair back. “I have to go. You’d better be at that show tomorrow, Eddie, or I will be very sad!”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the exit.

“He didn’t pay,” he heard Eddie say to Bill.

“This isn’t the first time.”

Richie waved over his shoulder and blew Bill a kiss. He winked at Eddie, his grin widening when he saw him blush.

-

Friday finally rolled around and Eddie decided to invite Stan to Bill’s band’s show. He made sure to specifically mention that his roommate was in this said band because he knew Stanley would never go otherwise.

“Can you please stop talking about you and my roommate fucking,” Eddie pleaded, pressing his fingers to his temples. “And are you sure you still want to go? You weren’t looking too good earlier.”

“It’s the depression,” Stan replied, giving him a look. “But I’m okay now.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you want to leave at any time and we will.”

Can I get your number? / Can I get you into bed? / When we wake up in the morning / Will you give me lots of head?

“Oh, that’s nice,” Eddie sighed as they got closer to their destination.

“Another song?”

Eddie nodded.

“Me too. Or at least parts of a song.”

Everybody wants to love you / Everybody wants to love you! / Everybody wants to love you

They approached the venue, easily identifiable by music and cheering. They paid the entry fee and walked inside. Eddie was immediately greeted by sweaty, dancing bodies and loud music. He saw Richie up on stage, strumming a guitar. He spotted Bill in the back on the drums, and two other individuals: a girl on bass and a dark-skinned guy on another guitar. He couldn’t help but stare at Richie, who caught his gaze. The dark-haired boy grinned and winked at him before continuing with the song.

Will you lend me your toothbrush? Will you make me breakfast in bed? Ask me to get married And then make me breakfast again!

Eddie watched as the rest of the band joined in for the chorus.

Everybody wants to love you.”

He froze. The Richie sang the next part alone.

Everybody wants to love you!

Eddie felt as if his skin was on fire. His hands started shaking and checked his pockets, cursing internally because of course he didn’t bring his inhaler.

“Eddie!” Stan snapped him out of his daze. Distantly he heard the band sing another line. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

He could only nod. He didn’t think that he would react this way to meeting his soulmate. Stan grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd. He was dimly aware of the song ending and people cheering. He didn’t notice the look on Richie’s face when Stan pulled him into the bathroom. He turned the sink on and wet a paper towel, dabbing it on his face to cool himself down.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“The lead singer of that band? The one on the guitar?”

“Richie? Yeah, he’s my roommate and best friend. He’s also terrible. What about him?” Stan asked, genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

Eddie stared at him. “He’s your roommate? You live with him?”

“Unfortunate, I know. Wait, how do you know him?”

“Bill introduced me.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh, god. You’re the guy he’s been gushing on about for the past twenty-four hours. It’s disgusting.”

“Says the guy who won’t shut up about my roommate,” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, what does you almost having an asthma attack have to do with Richie?” Stanley questioned, crossing his arms.

“Well he’s, uh, he’s my soulmate,” Eddie confessed.

The curly haired boy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. How do you know? God, he’s going to be ecstatic when he finds out.”

Eddie reddened. “That song. It was stuck in my head on the walk over here. It sounded like it got so much louder when we came inside.”

Stan nodded. “Well, you have to tell him because he looked hurt when I had to drag you in here.”

“I literally only met him yesterday,” Eddie whined.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “Yet you like him! Man up and tell him that he’s your soulmate.” He gave Eddie a quick hug before exiting the bathroom.

Eddie took a deep breath. He moved to open the bathroom door but it was pushed open. Richie grabbed his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

He short-circuited for a second. “I have to tell you something.”

Richie rubbed his thumb over the palm, making Eddie shiver. “Okay.”

Eddie looked away, cheeks red. “You’re my soulmate.”

“What?”

“On the walk here, I had that song you just played stuck in my head and I’d never heard it before,” Eddie admitted.

“What did you listen to before meeting Bill for lunch yesterday?” Richie asked him.

“Um, I listened to Beyoncé. Lemonade specifically, but I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

Richie pushed him back against the bathroom wall and grabbed the sides of his face. He kissed him hard, hands moving from his cheeks to his waist. Eddie was thrown off guard but immediately regained his composure, kissing him back earnestly, his fingers curling in his shirt. Richie coaxed his mouth open, the wet sounds of mouths and tongues pressing together filled the small room.

“I can’t believe you just made out with me in a fucking bathroom. Do you know how germy and disgusting these places are?” Eddie panted as they broke apart.

“Relax, babe. It’s not like I’m fucking you in a stall,” he grinned and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “Unless you want me to.”

Eddie pushed him away. “Beep beep, Richie,” he used the phrase he heard Bill say yesterday to get him to shut up. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Richie laughed and kissed him again, this time gentler. He pulled back and placed a kiss on his temple, intertwining their fingers together.

“I gotta get back out there,” he said, pulling him toward the exit. “I’ll dedicate the next song to you, darlin’.”

Eddie smiled wide as his soulmate led him back out into the crowd. He’d strangle him for singing all those annoying songs another night. Tonight was all about them.

anonymous asked:

I don't understand this concept of "being barred" from progressing in a game, unless you've got a disability, there's nothing stopping you from getting better at a game or beating a tough boss, especially since the game isn't getting any easier after.

One of the common things I hear is that “Well, games are the only medium that prevent player progress. Books and movies don’t do that.” but there’s two issues:

a) Games aren’t books or movies.

People who unironically try to say one should be like the other are downplaying the uniqueness of those mediums and just show that they don’t appreciate it. Games are unique because they require active involvement from the participant; board games, card games, sports, the newspaper Sudoku, etc may have different methods of engaging the player but it’s still working under the same end goal of getting you involved.

John Walker from RPS tried drawing the comparison to wanting to add in the option to skip gameplay to people who want a burger but take off some of the toppings, the tomato. But that’s the problem: Gameplay is not inconsequential. It’s not added fluff that can be easily removed. It’s literally in the name of the medium. Gameplay isn’t the topping, it’s the goddamn meat itself! It’s because of nonsense like this why games journalists get laughed at on a daily basis: they clearly show they don’t appreciate the medium but are utterly stunned when there’s so much blowback from gamers. Gamers balk at dumb reasons like this because regardless of your age, your skill at games, platform of choice: the reason people drop $60 on a game is because they want to play it. Not to just look at pretty pictures and marvel at the scenery, which are the toppings on the burger.

b) Just because anyone can technically partake in passive activities like watching doesn’t mean that they’ll actually understand it or appreciate the creator’s intent.

Take David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive. I didn’t like the movie, in fact, I think I can honestly say that I hated it and thought it was a huge waste of time. But other people loved it so much that it’s gotten lots of awards and nominations and praise from film buffs and critics. Does this mean David Lynch should make his movies more straightforward for simpletons like me? No. If it was his vision to make Mulholland Drive a clusterfuck mishmash, then that’s fine. I may not like it, but other people clearly do, so instead of me whining for it to fit my tastes, I’ll just go watch Airplane for the 89798234759384th time since it’s a better movie.

There isn’t anything wrong with a game requiring more from the player to proceed because not every game needs to be “accessible”. Not every movie is “accessible”, not every book is an “easy read”: some things require more from the participant and that’s perfectly fine. Games don’t have to be designed for every person in mind and I will always prefer products with a specific niche in mind than ones made with the nebulous and vague goal of “mass appeal”.


These are also the same kinds of people that really push the “games are art” rhetoric, which makes their complaints ironic, because if they were truly serious about that then they’d realize that the value of art is something that varies heavily from person to person. People are unique and have their own tastes, ergo it would only make sense for art to exist to cater to that taste and that taste exclusively.

If game journos had any sense, they’d realize this but they don’t so they get laughed at 24/7 by everyone.

halloween sentence starters

Feel free to change pronouns or anything else !

at a party

  • “I love the decorations.”
  • “There are so many sexy kitties in here.”
  • “Am I the only one in costume?”
  • “I’m not sure if this room is full of strangers or if I just can’t recognize anyone because of the costumes.”
  • “Do I hear ‘Monster Mash’ playing?”
  • “Come on, let’s dance. Even the skeletons are doing it.”
  • “Did someone spike the punch?”
  • “I hate costume parties…”

at a haunted house

  • “This stuff’s for babies.”
  • “AAAAAHHHHH!”
  • “Hey, can we…go home? Not that I’m scared.”
  • “BOO!”
  • “Wait, are you actually scared?”
  • “FuCK NO–”
  • “That makeup is so realistic.”
  • “I paid $40 so I better die.”

alone

  • “You should hang out with me later. I’m gonna marathon a bunch of movies.”
  • “[text] Hey, it’s me. I heard banging noises and I’m terrified. Please save me.”
  • “Halloween?? With friends?? What friends?”
  • “[text] I just heard some weird noises. [text] No I’m being serious. [text] I need you ri”
  • “I’m probably just going to stay up all night so the ghosts don’t kill me.”
  • “I’ll just be chilling with the monsters under my bed.”
  • “Maybe I’ll summon a demon so I have someone to hang out with.”
  • “Do ghosts like Netflix?”

with kids

  • “Don’t eat all your candy at once!”
  • “Aw~ I love your costume.”
  • “And who are you?”
  • “Look, man. You can’t give toothbrushes to kids on Halloween.”
  • “Trick or treat!”
  • “Let me check those before you eat them.”
  • “UGH, why am I stuck with a bunch of babies?”
  • “I wish it was socially acceptable for me to trick or treat on my own, but it’s not, so.”

with friends

  • “We should egg his/her/their house.”
  • “Help me with my costume!”
  • “TIME TO GET SPOOKY.”
  • “Are you just going to wear a T-shirt that says ‘costume’ on it?”
  • “Should we be drinking this much?”
  • “The ouija board says you’re a little shit.”
  • “Let’s tell ghost stories.”
  • “Time to join the skeleton war, bitches.”

as a flirt

  • “You look so hot in that.”
  • “After being freaks, are we gonna get freaky?”
  • “[jumps into __’s arms out of fear]”
  • “Your outfit is scary…take it off.”
  • “I came in here expecting a trick, but you’re a real treat.”
  • “If I was in a scary movie, I’d want to be trapped with you.”
  • “You–uh–spooked…my heart.”
  • “I’d let you haunt me all night long.”

misc.

  • “Let’s carve a pumpkin!”
  • “I’d be a witch in another life.”
  • “I wonder if I still have that ouija board…”
  • “Do you believe in ghosts?”
  • “What costume are you wearing?”
  • “Let’s pull a prank.”
  • “I hate Halloween.”
  • “Can you tell me why you have an actual skeleton in your closet?”
“He’s everything- my everything, my only, my all.”

Requested by many people (phrase no. 8 from my prompt list)


Draco realized he was in love with Harry Potter when he was seventeen. On that day, in that exact moment, Draco was supposed to hate Harry Potter with more hate than he had ever felt for anything in whole life. He was supposed to sentence Potter to death. But when Draco stood there staring into Potter’s ever so green eyes, his face mere centimeters away from Potter’s - close enough to kiss, all Draco could feel was love. Draco felt sick to his stomach when he realized this, but he shoved all his emotions into the deepest, darkest part of his heart so he could deal with them later, just like he always did.

“I don’t know,” Draco said, and by doing so disappointing his family and betraying everything that he was supposed to care about.

But somehow Draco didn’t give a damn about these consequences. Potter was his everything now.


Draco did not let his love for Harry Potter resurface for five years. Even after Potter’s testimony at Draco’s trial, and Draco becoming friends with Granger in their Eighth Year at Hogwarts, and Draco running into Potter because of Teddy-related activities, Draco’s feelings remained suppressed. And that was okay, because Draco was perfectly fine ignoring these feelings, and he planned on going on ignoring them for the rest of his life, but then Potter had to fuck everything up by being an Auror and nearly dying on the same night that Draco was working in the Severe Spells and Trauma Unit of St. Mungo’s.

“What have we got?” Draco asked the mediwitch on duty as he slipped on a pair of Healing gloves, magically programmed to be impenetrable against germs.

The mediwitch forced her gaze away from the patients being carted into the Trauma center on flying gurneys and looked at the medical chart that an EMW (Emergency Medi-Wizard) had handed her. “Twenty two year old male, took a Spasmos to the chest and was Crucio’d for approximately thirty seven seconds. He’s been having seizures every seventy four seconds. He and his partner were on an Auror mission.”

Draco nodded in understanding. “Who’s got his partner?”

“That’s me.” called Healer Owens. Owens, known to Draco as Jasper, winked at Draco as he slid on his gloves and listened to his own mediwitch recite the medical information on Draco’s patient’s partner.

“Thirty year old female, hit with Petrificus Totalus and thrown against the wall when one of the criminals cast an Expulso. Possible paralyzation and many broken bones,” Jasper’s mediwitch reported.

Jasper grimaced. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

Jasper and Draco both headed in opposite directions to treat their patients.

The EMWs had just transferred Draco’s patient from the gurney to a bed when Draco reached him. The man’s tanned chest was bare and he was wearing only his trousers; the EMWs must have removed his robes when they realized his chest had been hit. Draco barely got to look at his patient before his mediwitch handed him the specially-modified Healer’s wand  and had to set to work, but one glance was all it took for Draco to recognize the man on the bed: it was Harry Potter.

Draco pushed his thoughts on Harry Potter to the back of his mind (he was quite good at it after five years of practice) and centered all of his attention on the injuries in front of him.

“His seizures are occurring more frequently now, only about sixty two seconds apart now,” his mediwitch chirped. “Forty three seconds until the next one.”

Draco nodded and waved his Healer’s wand over Potter’s - no, the patient’s - chest, and cast a spell to make the area affected by Spasmos glow. A small circle on the left half of the patient’s chest lit up in an electric blue color, and the color had spread across the rest of his chest in thin lines, like branches of a tree.

“Shit,” Draco muttered. One of the branches of light was dangerously close to the patient’s heart. Potter’s heart.

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honestly I remember once my mom told me growing up meant you went through phases. Of course she wasn’t talking about gender or sexuality, she was actually talking to me when dyeing my hair a bright color for the first time but she told me that kids need to be able to go through their phases and have support during them, because some things you wouldn’t expect will be permanent. So you might not be into building robots or play soccer or be goth or identify as something for the rest of your life or even for more than a year and thats fine.


growing up means exploring, and having things shoved off as “its just a phase” is absolutely ridiculous. Even if something is a phase a child’s parents should support them in whatever ways they can and let their child have as many experiences as possible. So please, even if its “just a phase” buy your kid books on the topic they like, take them to museums, let them cut their hair and go to concerts, call them by the pronouns they ask you to and support their identity, make sure they know you always have their back.

distance - klance season 4

(based on the beautiful art by @badenlily link here  that is sooo beautiful - that you should all marvel at before you read this!! - and this thing I wrote is nowhere near worthy of it, but thank you so much for letting me write it!! This is set somewhere in season 4, I assume? i also posted this over on my ao3 here

“It looks good on you,” Lance says, his elbow propped up against Red’s control panel, his chin held in his palm; looking at Keith in his video feed. “The hood, I mean, it makes you look all mysterious.”

“Hm,” Keith says, looking up from sharpening his blade; he blinks at him, then what Lance had said registers and his cheeks turn a soft pink. He reaches up and touches his hood, “Oh, thanks, Lance.” He hadn’t really thought about whether or not it looked good, he’d been more interested in the durability and practicality of his suit, and how/if the hood would help keep him disguised if he needed it. 

“The purple really brings out your eyes,” Lance says, settling into this, complimenting Keith with a hint of glee; his lips widening into an easy, possibly flirty grin. “It makes them pop.”

“Pop?” Keith repeats, raising an eyebrow. He sheaths his blade then, leaning closer to the screen to look at his own eyes and Lance looks at them too, they are really, really pretty eyes.

“Yup,” Lance says, not explaining further, “Pop.”

“Well, you look really good in your undersuit,” Keith says easily, without a hint of embarrassment at his incredibly embarrassing words. “It makes your shoulders look really broad.”

“W-what?” Lance stutters, his cheeks flushing; he can dish it out with ease, but can’t handle it when he gets it back in return. “Stop messing around, Keith!”

“I’m not,” Keith says back, indignant; confused by Lance’s refusal to accept his genuine compliment. “It looks good on you.”

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One Missed Call (Angst)

A/N: Prepare yourself. It’s quite a ride. This is my first time doing angst so feedback is definitely appreciated. Enjoy! 

After what feels like forever, the plane finally touches down in his home city of Toronto. Shawn lets out a deep, strangled sigh, rubbing his eyes. He’s exhausted from the extended time that he’s been away from home, but he honestly wishes he was still on the road for just a little while longer. He knows he should be excited; he should be happy even. Today is the day he will finally see her after months of being apart, but when she comes to mind, his stomach turns and he’s disgusted with himself. All he can think about is what he did. He shakes away the thought in his head and pulls his carry-on over his shoulder as he makes his way to his designated baggage carousel to collect his belongings. It takes him 15 minutes to find all his bags before he continues down the long hall towards the revolving exit doors. Geoff is outside the airport for him. His plane was early, but he didn’t want to bother her to take off work and have to come get him. He isn’t ready to see her just yet anyways. He just needs a little more time to think. He walks out the doors and props up his suitcase. While waiting for his friend to show, his eyes wonder upward, gazing at the black sky, contemplating what the hell he should do when he gets home. He can’t hide it forever; his guilt will eat him alive.

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