ask me how high am i

Day Ninety-Four

-A child told me that he loved his lanky polar bear. He then asked for his leggy man boy to not be put in a bag. He gushed to his father about how excited he was for his limping pollo loco. I am grateful to have been the one to bestow upon him his Lego Batman toy.

-A man came through with a camouflage bandana, a long-sleeved camouflage shirt, camouflage shorts, and pasty white calves. He is guaranteed to go unnoticed as long as he stays in knee-high coverage.

-I began my shift not in the happiest of moods. This all changed when a two year-old looked me in the eye and told me, “Myungh.” Children always know just what to say.

-Two three year-old twins took turns tooting on a toy trumpet together, absolutely tickled by how perfectly they could produce their one note.

-I watched on in fascination as a man in his fifties knocked over a sign at Starbucks and spent ten minutes attempting to place it upright again. He soon found his efforts to be in vain and instead attoted to slink away in what was ultimately the most noninconspicuous manner possible.

-A woman left in the middle of paying for her purchase to wait through the line at Starbucks and get a drink. I am beginning to understand how some may doubt my stories. I, too, cannot find any way to believe that this actually happened.

-A child ran towards me, shouting, “Daddy Two!” My plan is working flawlessly and my infiltration of his family has begun.

-A triad of men came through my line, looking like a hipster version of the Three Stooges, and living up to the reputation.

-A line of intimidating frat boys spent the duration of their time in my lane debating the best brands of “choccy milk” and their go-to shaking strategies.

i am holding hands with a girl at the pet store. i love how her voice changes when she speaks to different animals. round and bubbly for the angelfish, high and breathy for the calico kittens, sonorous and slithery for the python. she loves them all, even the great hairy tarantula that makes me cringe. 

i am holding hands with this girl whose halo of hair glows banana yellow under the heat lamps in the reptile section, who offers her index finger to teething kittens. she asks “can’t we have one?” in the voice she uses for only me. a voice i can’t describe without using her name, but i imagine joan of arc heard something similar the day she picked up a sword. she is still holding my hand, and i feel like i’d sink into cartoon quicksand if i let go. so i don’t.

“are you two… together?”

this is not unfamiliar, but the woman’s voice, the voice she has chosen, is angrily acidic. this woman has laced her tone with arsenic, without even a passive aggressive teaspoon of sugar to hide her poison. she inhales, puffing herself up like a frightened lizard before her final words. 

“there are children here, you know.” 

in the future, i think of a thousand things to say. we were children too. two girls holding hands after school. two girls holding hands at the movie theatre, two girls in a booth at tony’s pizza, two girls sharing awkward first kisses after two solo cups of wine in someone else’s backyard. two girls holding kittens at a pet store on a saturday afternoon. 

i know now that they see us through funhouse mirrors: distorted, disturbed, our monstrous bodies taking too much space, spoiling innocent spaces with our imposing sexualities. our innocence never ours to begin with.

even with this, there is nowhere i would rather be than holding hands with her in a pet store, with her voice like rain on a hot day, her peach lips blowing kisses for fish, her grip tightening as if to say “i dare you to take this away from me.”

Mom, my depression is a shape shifter.
One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear,
The next, it’s the bear.
On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone.
I call the bad days: “the Dark Days.”
Mom says, “Try lighting candles.”
When I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church, the flicker of a flame,
Sparks of a memory younger than noon.
I am standing beside her open casket.
It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die.
Besides Mom, I’m not afraid of the dark.
Perhaps, that’s part of the problem.
Mom says, “I thought the problem was that you can’t get out of bed.”
I can’t.
Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head.
Mom says, “Where did anxiety come from?”
Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out-of-town depression felt obligated to bring to the party.
Mom, I am the party.
Only I am a party I don’t want to be at.
Mom says, “Why don’t you try going to actual parties, see your friends?”
Sure, I make plans. I make plans but I don’t want to go.
I make plans because I know I should want to go. I know sometimes I would have wanted to go.
It’s just not that fun having fun when you don’t want to have fun, Mom.
You see, Mom, each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light.
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company.
Mom says, “Try counting sheep.”
But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake;
So I go for walks; but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists.
They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells reminding me I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness I cannot baptize myself in.
Mom says, “Happy is a decision.”
But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg.
My happy is a high fever that will break.
Mom says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat-out asks me if I am afraid of dying.
No.
I am afraid of living.
Mom, I am lonely.
I think I learned that when Dad left how to turn the anger into lonely —
The lonely into busy;
So when I tell you, “I’ve been super busy lately,” I mean I’ve been falling asleep watching Sports Center on the couch
To avoid confronting the empty side of my bed.
But my depression always drags me back to my bed
Until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city,
My mouth a bone yard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves.
The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat,
But I am a careless tourist here.
I will never truly know everywhere I have been.
Mom still doesn’t understand.
Mom! Can’t you see that neither can I?
—  “Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation” by Sabrina Benaim
  • My kid: I want to drop out of high school
  • Me: Let me tell u a story about this band
  • My kid: Uh okay..dont know how this is relevant.
  • Me: One guy in this band thought flip flops were thongs
  • My kid: How is this relevant to my question
  • Me: Let me finish, that same guy thought the possibilities were endless and the drummer thought tadpoles were baby turtles
  • My kid: Mom answer my question.
  • Me: They dropped out of High school. Dont become luke and ashton.
  • My kid: ill ask dad.
  • Me: He was in the band. He was the bassist he said some dumb shit to

anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

Stress Reliever-Ashton Irwin Smut

Could you do an Ashton smut where you baby sit his kids because he’s so stressed? Business man and wife left him. So of course he needs a stress reliever. And that’s (y/n). She’s a bad bitch😉👏🏻

Hey I’m so sorry this has taken me months to write. I’ve been super busy with school and I’ve honestly also been procrastinating. I hope this is what you were looking for and thanks so much for being my first request.

And please remember that I am open for requests if you have any, just don’t expect them to come out right away.


You couldn’t resist the adorable five year old child in front of you. The way her small lips would turn into a pout and her head would tilt slightly to the left made it practically impossible to say no to another serving of ice cream. You were weak, and she knew it too.

She clapped her hands and beamed up at you. Despite the pit in your stomach telling you not to give the adorable devil another serving, you reluctantly handed her another bowl, slightly smaller than the last, filled with chocolate ice cream.

As she scarfed down her second dessert, you checked your phone to see if her father, Ashton had texted you. You had immediately volunteered to babysit his daughter after his job started picking up it’s pace.

He was childhood friends with your older brother so when he complained to your brother about needing a part-time nanny, you actually raised your hand like a school girl. Not only did you love spending time with Ellie, you also needed money for food, being a junior in college.

Although Ashton had a beautiful child and a decent job, you always felt bad for him because he had to grow up faster than anyone you knew. Getting a girl pregnant at age eighteen takes a toll on people. Especially when the girl you impregnate leaves you with a two week year-old baby because she “couldn’t handle being responsible for another human being.”

“I’m tired,” Ellie whined, reaching her hands up to rub her eyes. You quickly snapped out of your daze and picked her up.

“Bed time story?” you asked the sleepy toddler. She nodded quickly which made you smile at her eagerness.

Just as her eyes closed you let out a sigh and had just started cleaning up the mess she had made the past few hours when you heard the front door close from within the apartment.

You walked out into the living room to see Ashton looking down at the bills strewn across the kitchen table. “Hey Ash, I just put her to bed.”

A light smile grazed his lips. “Thanks, (Y/n).”

With the small smile on his face you recalled just how attractive he was. His sandy brown hair was long, but still a reasonable length and his light green eyes were always warm. You hadn’t told anyone this, except for your best friend back in high school, but you had always found him attractive.

“Do you want to stay and watch a bit of TV for a little but because I technically said I wouldn’t be home for another thirty minutes. O-or if you have to go that’s fine too,” his face grew slightly red.

You laughed, “Yeah sure. How was work?” you asked, moving to sit crisscross on his couch. 

He sat down close to you and sighed, “Actually insane. I feel like I’m in high school all over again. Whatever papers that they give me to complete, they just seem to go unused. It’s like the busy work Mr. Greene would give us. Did you have Mr. Greene?”

You nodded as he grabbed the remote for the television. “Of course. I don’t remember anything from his class because his voice would just put me to sleep,” you both laughed.

“Exactly. That’s like every meeting that I am forced to go to. My boss is practically Mr. Greene and I can never focus because his voice makes me want to fall asleep.”

Deciding to be bold, you placed your hand on his knee and rubbed it soothingly, “Why don’t you just quit? You’re obviously not enjoying it.”

He didn’t seem fazed so you moved your hand up a little further, “Because I need the money. It’s the best job that offers no college experience required.”

Your hand was now slowly caressing his mid-thigh over the pants to his suit. “W-what are you doing?” he asked suddenly, looking down at your hand.

You shrugged and brought your hand up a little higher, “You just seem so stressed and I thought I could maybe help you a little.”

His breath got caught in his throat, “Y-yeah?”

Slowly nodding, you brought you hand on his quickly growing bulge. “Yeah.”

With just the slightest of touches, he quickly inhaled and closed his eyes.

Because he wasn’t denying you, you applied pressure to the tent in his pants which made him groan. 

Slowly, you reached for his zipper and tugged it down achingly slow. “Is this okay?” you asked.

“Yes, fuck, yeah,” he whimpered when you palmed him over his boxers.

A small smile stretched across your face as you crawled off of the couch and lowered yourself between his legs.

He visibly gulped, “W-what about your brother?”

While you pulled down his boxers you kept eye contact with him and shrugged, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

When his almost fully-erect member was released from its confines, he let out a long breath of air. Without hesitation, you gripped him and slowly tugged upward until he was a moaning mess. “I should come home stressed more often,” he laughed, shakily.

You bit your lip and looked back up at him to see he was staring down at you with hooded eyes. Boldly, you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock which caused his eyes to roll back. “Oh shit. Baby, your tongue feels so good,” he whimpered.

Just the sight of him, hair matted, crisp, white shirt with only a few buttons still buttoned, made you wet.

You latched your lips around his tip and wasted no time before sinking your head all the way down his length. He wasn’t the longest you had ever had, but he was definitely the thickest.

His mouth widened considerably at the sight of his member down your throat. “You’re so hot when you suck my cock.”

You moaned at his words, the awkward Ashton now completely gone. The vibrations from your moan caused him to buck his hips. When your throat clenched around him he let out an exasperated grunt.

“I’m so close, fuck!” he moaned when he hit the back of your throat again. “I want to be inside you. Please,” he begged, tugging on your hair to pull you up.

“Are you sure?” you asked, surprised that he wanted more than just a blowjob. He nodded frantically and you stood up and walked towards his room. It took him a second to understand what your were doing, but he was soon on your heels.

Once you and Ashton entered his room, you hastily discarded your shirt and leggings. “Lie down,” you demanded.

He obeyed immediately and climbed onto his bed, only wearing his shirt. Your legs quivered at the sight of his member sticking straight up.

When he noticed you looking, a cocky smile spread across his face. “Enjoying the view?”

You rolled your eyes and tugged down your underwear, “Shut up, Irwin.”

His eyes widened when you moved to straddle him, “What’s wrong? Do you not want to?”

His head shook quickly, “No, I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been intimate with anyone since…” he trailed off.

“Since Ellie came?” He nodded. You leaned down and kissed his lips slowly. “Want me to be slow?”

“Fuck no,” he whined before lining up with your entrance so you could sink down.

Your mouth widened at his width. “Ash,” you moaned. You felt him sit up and lean against the bed frame.

“You feel so good, (Y/n),” he whispered, moving his hands to unbuckle your bra. He hummed when your boobs spilled out of their confines.

Slowly, you raised from his shaft and then quickly sunk back down. “Oh my god,” Ashton whimpered.

You started to grind on his cock, earning more moans from the two of you combined until he forcefully gripped your hips and continuously pulled you down on him.

“Ashton!” you yelled, forgetting about the five year-old not too far away.

He could hardly form a coherent sentence and mostly released loud moans and groans of pleasure.

“You’re so thick, Ash.”

He hummed at the feeling of your chests pressed together. “You’re so fucking tight, Jesus.”

“Are you close?” he asked, bringing a hand down to rub figure eights against your clit.

You clenched around him and nodded, “Yes.”

“I could fuck you all day,” he said, bringing his other hand to slap your ass.

Your mouth dropped as that sent you over the edge. You screamed his name repeatedly as the knot inside your stomach burst.

He continued to move your hips until he came in four, hot spurts.

When you had both settled down, he stopped your motion and rested his head in the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses in his wake.

“What does this mean?” you asked him, feeling a little guilty for fucking up your friendship because you knew that after the sex you had just had, you wouldn’t want to remain just friends.

He moved his head to look you in the eyes, “What do you want this to mean?” he asked.

You thought for a minute before responding, “I want this to not be a one-time thing.”

He smiled, “Thank god, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know what to tell your brother when he comes over in a couple minutes to see his baby sister naked, and still on my cock.”


Would ya’ll possibly want a part two or nah?

POPULAR TEXT POSTS + ASK MEME  (  PART 3  )

❛ i need a reasonable paying job, something like $2,000 an hour. nothing too wild. ❜
❛ idc (i do care) ❜
❛ ‘are you taken?’ yes bitch, taken for granted ❜
❛ half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half is, well, an asshole ❜
❛ you’re yelling? at ME? the one person who has never done anything wrong ever?????? ❜
❛ you will find your home, you will find your place. you will find your people. give it a little bit of time but it will happen. ❜
❛ in order lead a happy life i’m gonna have to disappoint my parents a bit. ❜
❛ any body else here not good at anything??? ❜
❛ you can’t force people to appreciate you. ❜
❛ *puts on baseball cap* i am the dad now… ❜
❛ i fake smart.. like i’m honestly a dumbass idk shit but i know how to seem like i do.. i’m smart-passing.. ❜
❛ every straight woman who ever called her platonic friend her ‘girlfriend’ owes me $50 ❜
❛ i am a professional at misreading tones and overreacting to problems that most likely don’t exist ❜
❛ honestly if i survive the next 3 years of my life, i will be impressed with myself ❜
❛ you can’t cure sadnesses with a shower but honestly there is no purer place to suffer ❜
❛ patiently waiting for a kind soul to come along and make everything a little softer, brighter. ❜
❛ honestly i don’t even play an active role in my life, shit just happens and i’m like oh this is what we’re doing now? ok ❜
❛ no offense but if i die and no one uses a ouija board to keep me updated on memes i will literally haunt you all ❜
❛ imma start charging people for hurting my feelings $3 an hour ❜
❛ i have finally reached the age of most young adult protagonists yet my life is still uneventful??? where is my cool story??? my cool talents??? @ universe i’m pissed ❜
❛ hello, police? i accidentally stepped on my cats foot and need to be arrested ❜
❛ *tries to watch 45 minute episode in 20 minutes ❜
❛ please don’t just come in my life, take my heart and leave. please don’t do that. ❜
❛ concept: me, 10 years from now, living in a pretty house with my love, sipping a hot cappuccino on a rainy autumn afternoon. our dog curls up next to me in the window bench while our cat snoozes on the bed. i’m financially stable and i’m never tired anymore. the bees are safe. ❜
❛ i can’t believe what walkie talkies are called ❜
❛ the gorilla could have died and been done with in like a week but none of you know how to be normal ❜
❛ me: *is bitter but is also right* ❜
❛ just saw a girl in high heels long boarding to class. godspeed, my queen. ❜
❛ i’ve never belonged anywhere, i’m always just in between ❜
❛ too young for unnecessary stress, i gotta live ❜
❛ i may not be beautiful but at least i know a lot of useless information ❜
❛ i’m like always sleepy. i feel like i should be used to this by now and stop complaining about being sleepy but i can’t. always, i’m sleepy. ❜
❛ lmao no offense… but what’s the point of being mean to people for no reason ❜
❛ drunk me is the me i really want to be. confident, hilarious, and most importantly, drunk ❜
❛ “alcohol isn’t supposed to taste good” buddy watch me drink the fruitiest/sweetest shit i can find and enjoy it because i don’t hate myself enough to even begin to consider drinking like.. beer ❜
❛ tfw you’re already fully aware of the unnecessary self destructive bullshit you’re doing but you can’t bring yourself to do anything to stop it ❜
❛ hey sorry for not replying i didn’t want to ❜
❛ honestly how am i gonna make it in the world???? i get a little teary eyed any time someone compliments my personality ❜
❛ true bonding is when you and your friends are all angry about the same thing ❜
❛ *touches your hand and looks seriously into your eyes* i am a piece of shit ❜
❛ lets play ‘how rude can i be until you realize i don’t like you’ ❜
❛ i love drunk me but i don’t trust her ❜
❛ hate when i am wearing makeup and still look shitty like what else am i supposed to do? get enough sleep? eat right and exercise??? as if ❜
❛ i’m not on a high horse. i’m not even on a horse. i’m face down in a ditch on the road of life ❜
❛ i hate when people ask me what i would do in their situation because 9 times out of 10 i would literally never be in that situation in the first place ❜
❛ i barely remember the last 6 months honestly like am i even alive ❜
❛ you had me at ‘hello’ and lost me at ‘i think your friend is cute’ ❜
❛ i’m pretty sure by now ‘tired’ is just a part of my personality description ❜
❛ wow i really liked that song now i think i’ll listen to it another seventy times in a row ❜
❛ ‘shit it’s 2 a.m.’ i say every day at 2 a.m. as if i’m surprised ❜
❛ i’ve been stressed out since like the third day of second grade ❜
❛ telling other girls they look pretty is like cracking a glow stick full of positivity and female friendship ❜
❛ i want to be sun kissed and also people kissed ❜
❛ about me: glowing, eating peaches, drinking wine in lingerie, not texting your desperate ass back  ❜
❛ i highly recommend never having feelings ❜
❛ due to unfortunate circumstances, i am awake ❜
❛ i’m gonna solve mysteries so fucking good ❜
❛ what did people even wear in 2008 ❜
❛ i’ll just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  my way through life ❜
❛ you know what sucks? everything bye ❜
❛ me? overreacting? probably ❜
❛ people asking me what kind of music i like is such a stressful experience ❜
❛ honestly if i survive the next 3 years of my life i will be impressed with myself ❜
❛ if you listen carefully you can hear me whisper ‘shut the fuck up’ at least once every five minutes ❜
❛ any time you like a boy just know you played yourself. always keep that stored in your mind for later ❜
❛ hopeless romantic with trust issues and a sex drive out the roof ❜
❛ what i lack in personality i make up for in…….. nothing ❜
❛ me? cancelled ❜
❛ an app that tells you how raven something is ❜
❛ be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but takes care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that’s you ❜
❛ i love the infinite multiverse theory because that means there’s a universe where i’ve pulled every single fire alarm i’ve ever seen ❜
❛ name a more iconic duo than the lengths i’ll go to both get attention and to avoid it… i’ll wait ❜
❛ i just want to be treated very gently and smell like vanilla and wear only matte dusty rose lipstick ❜
❛ 2017 is going to be a very healing year because it’s going to force us to accept that 2007 was ten years ago not three and i think that’s the root of our collective issues ❜
❛ i just wanna do cute things with you like crush the patriarchy, fight for gender equality, and help to destroy racism ❜
❛ i may not be that funny or athletic or good looking or smart or talented… i forgot where i was going with this ❜
❛ how is 2016 already almost over?? like this bitch came in, fucked us up, then left like she gave us a gift ❜
❛ supercalifragilisticextentialcrisis ❜
❛ stop breaking your own motherfucking heart ❜
❛ co-napping is a beautiful thing. knock out with me so i know it’s real ❜
❛ *on the verge of tears* ok not that i care, but ❜
❛ it’s not you…. it’s your zodiac sign ❜
❛ i want to be loved so bad it’s pathetic and embarrassing ❜
❛ my heart is filled with hate and swag ❜
❛ ‘i don’t care’ i say, caringly, as i care deeply ❜
❛ i highly recommend never having feelings ❜
❛ we all ugly to somebody, don’t trip ❜
❛ do i have a crush or am i just idolizing this person for being vaguely nice to me? ❜
❛ my parents were arguing today and my mom said that justin timberlake wouldn’t treat her like this ❜
❛ kissing is hella rad but no one is kissing me so that makes me hella sad ❜
❛ everyone’s having their mid-life crisis at like 19 ❜
❛ there are just people out there that are the embodiment of the sun like the things they say do light up the world and make you feel warm they are human sunshine ❜
❛ dermatologists HATE me… everyone hates me. i’m so alone ❜
❛ you know when you realize and you just… realize ❜
❛ a girl can respect herself and still take booty pics wtf y’all talkin about ❜
❛ i’m not badass i’m sadass i cry about everything ❜
❛ inspired by animal crossing, i’ve started doing this thing where i mail my best friends a framed picture of myself and then never speak to them again ❜
❛ i didn’t know double texting was such a big deal?? i have a lot to say ❜
❛ can someone please just be proud of me like fuck i’m trying ❜
❛ cosmo sex tip #367: when you’re in the mood, tell you partner ‘my spidey senses are tingling’ ❜

(  you can find the other popular text posts memes on my old blog: 1, 2 )

Some Beauty and the Beast things

-When Cogsworth tried shushing Lumiere during Be Our Guest and Lumiere responded by obnoxiously singing louder.
-Pere Robert being the real MVP
-Disney made me watch Lumiere fucking DAB. TWICE. WITH MY OWN TWO EYES.
-Prince “How many towers can I climb to get high enough to catch one last glimpse of her” Adam
-The Beast going from “a creature like me” to “I am not a beast”
-“Was that a joke? Are you making jokes now?” “…….Maybe.”
-The Beast scooting closer to Belle during dinner
-“There’s a beast running wild, there’s no question; But I fear the wrong monster’s released.” b r u h
-The expression The Beast makes after Belle asks him if anyone could be happy if they aren’t free, and the subtle nod that follows
-“Poof-poof”

#43: You're Special To Me // Jeff Atkins

Request: Hi! Can you do a JeffxReader with numbers 38, 43, 48, and 56, please?

Requested by: @newsameoldmistakes


Friday’s were everyone’s favorite day. It was the beginning of the weekend, all of your worries went away, and responsibilities were forgotten until Monday.

You were in your last class of the day with only ten minutes left until the bell rang. You heard laughter behind you and you turned cautiously to see what all the commotion was and you saw Montgomery and his group of friends looking at you. You rolled your eyes and turned back around trying to ignore them. They were always annoying and disrupting the class so you figured it best if you just minded your own business and focused on your work.

“Hey, Y/N.” you hear him call and you turn around to see what he wanted.

“What do you want?” you sneered.

“Rumor is Jeff has found a new piece of ass to chase.” he snorted and your eyes widened.

“What are you talking about?” you ask and try to keep your neutral as to not show him that he was getting to you.

“Apparently him and some freshman on the dance team were seen getting a little too close today in the back of the library.” he explained and your stomach dropped.

You knew that you two weren’t exactly exclusive but you’ve been on a few dates. He even told you that you were the only one he was seeing and interested in. Apparently that wasn’t true. You turned back around and tried to focus on the assignment but your brain just wouldn’t let you. Would he really fool around with a freshman in such a public place?

You shake your head as you realize how dumb that sounds. This is Jeff, he wouldn’t do that. Besides wouldn’t he tell you things weren’t working out? He didn’t seem like the type to just lead girls on.

The bell soon rang and you grabbed your things quickly and bolted out the door and to your locker. You were trying to get in and out quickly so you wouldn’t have to see Jeff. In an attempt to shove all your books in your bag you lost your grip and dropped everything.

“Fuck.” you grunted and kneeled down to pick up your things. Soon you noticed a hand grab your chemistry notebook and you look up.

It was Jeff.

“Thanks.” you muttered as you grabbed it and stuffed it in your bag, standing up.

You shut your locker and started at the doors. You felt a hand gently pull you back and you turned around.

“Hey. Why are you walking away? You didn’t even let me say hello.” he rubbed the back of his neck and you sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really ready to go home.” you explain and he nods.

“I feel you. I love Fridays.” he smiles and you awkwardly nod and look around.

“Well I’ve got to get going so I’ll see you around.” you say and start to leave when he stops you again.

“Wait. Do you wanna come to dinner at my house tomorrow night? I kind of mentioned you to my mom and now she really wants to meet you. I know we aren’t really official or anything so it’s okay if you say no.” he reasons and your heart melts. He mentioned you to his mom? The thought makes you smile until you remember what Montgomery told you.

“Are you sure you want me there? Why don’t you take your new friend instead?” you sneer and he looks taken back.

“What new friend?” he furrows your brows and you scoff.

“The freshman? The one you were getting all friendly with in the library.” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. He looks confused for a second until realization hits him and he starts to laugh.

“I’m glad you think this is funny.” you scoff and turn to leave again when a hand grabs your arm again and pulls you back. You were shocked as you felt his lips against yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. You mentally kicked yourself at how easily you gave in.

“That friend is my little sister. She hasn’t been having the best time adjusting to high school so I hang out with her sometimes.” he explains and your eyes widen.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry.” you apologize, “Monty was telling me all these crazy things and I believed him and I should’ve just asked you instead of assuming and getting upset.” you look down, ashamed.

“Hey.” he says and puts a finger under your chin to get you to look at him, “You’re special to me. I wouldn’t throw away what I have with you for some fling. Okay?” he asks and you nod giving him a small kiss and smiling.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” you admit.

“Yeah she’s always busy with dance practice so I don’t see her much until she gets home.” he explains and you nod in understanding.

“You’ll get to meet her tomorrow if you decide to come?” he asks again.

“Yeah definitely. I’d love to. But only if you refer to me as your girlfriend.” you negotiate and he laughs.

“Deal.”

GOT7 react to their s/o who loves wearing heels but doesn’t because if she does she will be taller than them

 A Request from:


Mark - “Babe, if you love wearing them, just wear it. Don’t mind me.” 

Originally posted by holyfuckmark


Jaebum - “Just like how you let me wear my bucket hat, I am not going to stop you from looking even more beautiful in those heels.”

Originally posted by saranghaeyojw


Jackson - He would stare at you for a whole minute before asking, “How high are we looking at here?” 

Originally posted by memeslutbutt


Jinyoung - “It’s your feet, and it’s your heels. Wear them before it gets spoiled and ugly. Plus, you won’t be that tall.” He quickly added, “Unless if you wear 10 inch heels.”

Originally posted by jypnior


Youngjae - Being irrelevant and the worried sunshine that he is, he couldn’t help it but blurted out “What if you fall and break your ankles?” 

Originally posted by doteyoungjae


Bambam - “Why aren’t you wearing the heels I bought for you?” He asked. After knowing the reason, he laughed “Babe, I bought them for you to make you look extra gorgeous and fabulous, okay? Don’t worry about the height difference. I doubt that you’d be taller than me.” 

Originally posted by chattyang


Yugyeom - “Omg! I remember this line from She’s The Man.” and he proceeds to quote the movie “Heels are a male invention designed to make a woman’s butt look smaller. And to make it harder for them to run away.”

Originally posted by yugyeomism

anonymous asked:

Hi for fic recs I'm good with anything I just am in a slump trying to find some good Granada style fics and so I thought I would seek the help of an expert xD Maybe some fluff or h/c preferably 1k+ words

Originally posted by jeremyholmes

Oh good! let’s do this :D

Particular Pecularity by saavik13m, 43k, Mature: “How high is your regard for me, Watson?” He asked abruptly, his eyes still trained on the fire. “If I were to confess my darkest secret would you leave? Would you abandon me here to my melancholy?”A case forces Holmes to reveal the truth to Watson and risks both their reputations and their liberty. Just how understanding is John Watson?

Since First I Saw Your Face by Stavia_Scott_Grayson, 42k, Mature, Holmes POV, wip: During the Great Hiatus, Holmes, studying in Tibet, reflects on his first meeting with Dr John Watson. Full of historical references, with a hopelessly in love Holmes, beautiful writing, one of the best fics of the moment. I can’t recommend it enough, it’s so good D:

Le Beau Gent sans Merci by SweetSorcery, 2k, Teen: News of Captain Jack Croker and Lady Mary Brackenstall start Holmes and Watson talking about the perfect relationship.

All the Makings of a Great Romance by fleetwood_mouse, 12k, Explicit, Holmes POV: Sherlock Holmes lays down his account of the events of The Adventure Of The Empty House, the years leading up to it, and the night that followed.

Notes On A Love Story by A_Candle_For_Sherlock, 4k, gen: Watson finds a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray in Holmes’ room. Or: what happens when a queer novel upends Baker Street.

Hidden Depths by Susannah_Shepherd, 7k, Explicit: Watson inadvertently lets slip that his war injuries are far more extensive and crippling than he has formerly admitted. Holmes encourages him to confront his fears and find new hope.

Lesson Learned by Shadowycat, 9k, Mature: In which, Holmes makes a discovery, Watson makes a decision, and Holmes learns a lesson (or two) he never thought he’d want to learn. (Alternating Holmes and Watson POVs.)

Rubicon by Janeturenne, on livejournal, 4k: “One minute we were both on the deck, and the next minute we were both in the river…“ after an explosion while working on a case, Holmes and Watson think they’ve lost each other.

and, if you haven’t read all of Katy Forsythe, you should ;)

Happily translating Skam

So Skam S4 is coming as we all know and I would just like to tell you all that I’d be HAPPY to translate the new clips for you all. All I would ask for is for someone else to download the clips and send them to me cause I am not sure how to do that even though I’m very good at all that computer stuff I do not know how to download from a site like NRK so yeah if someone would help me out with that I’d be glad.

Please note though that I am Swedish so this means I am not fluent in Norwegian but since both languages are Scandinavian meaning Swedish is related to Norwegian I understand it to a high level. Also I’m good at languages so I guess that makes it even better.

Ps. I cannot tell you how blessed I am to be Swedish in this fandom and understanding Skam cause it is basically the next best thing to being Norwegian. 💓

February: The fall starts easy. I took baby aspirin, and a rusty spoon to my head, and smoked the stale weed my brother left in a broken vase before he left for college. Night comes fast, and tells the creation story. I ignore her this time. I don’t give a fuck about how I was made anymore tell me how I fall apart.

March: Nobody can ever find the raw spot on their leg until they start itching. I remember 6th grade when the mosquito bit my calf. Larvae and laps on the soccer field in early spring. He is oozing into my shoes with the mud.

April: My mother buried my rusty spoon, and took my brown hands. the clothesline was dripping carbonated orange soda sun, the wind was soft, the mice were sleeping warm beneath the floorboards; she spread my tarot on the floor with the forever broken and gnarled thumb she stuck in a blender when she was 5. That spring I walked home alone some nights, the heatwaves followed me like the labored breath of drunk men who don’t take no for an answer, I turned over The Devil and someone dropped a wine glass next door, she gasped, white eyes, the mice began to scrape and scream, the heatwave killed their children like it split my shoulders open and ate the youth inside.

May: The month of falling out of trees, junior high was gonna shipwreck any day now. There is a fast food place where the milkshakes taste like cough syrup and the skater kids cheat death on 3 feet of concrete stairs. There is a crack in the sidewalk in front of it, and he kick flips on it to break the back of the mother who left him at 13, he breeds violence between his fraying vans and then something in his ankle snaps, my oxygen goes tar black. He bleeds, he. Makes this sound. Like a dog when you step on its foot. I want to hold him, put a butterfly on his cheek, give him a band aid, something, God, something. He looks like he’s in pain. I want to. I don’t know. Help.

I walk away trembling and put my head between my knees behind a dumpster full of shitty milkshakes.

June: The neighbors fuck like rabbits while I’m trying to cry to joy division. I pray for a lightning strike. This type of poetry is for pretty girls, anyway.

July: my birthday flies into the glass of my bedroom window and breaks its neck. mom said the only things you can grow in summer that won’t die are grapefruit and hair, and I made a garden, I cut my chest open for Demeter each full moon. These locks were watered with gulf stream sea spray. I fed them bludgeoned daydreams. I threw my head against church doors trying to send Jesus some red flowers for his funeral, or maybe his birthday, doesn’t really matter, we celebrate both.

August: I got kicked out of high school knocking myself out on my desk. People carved hearts into the enamel, I carved my heart out of my chest and turned it in for my midterm. I slam dunked my skull into the bleachers on game day, and when the bleachers fell, into my history textbook, and when the book was mushy with blood, into the track field. I’m grinning ugly, dancing to the 80’s synth in an empty gym after homecoming, with a nosebleed dripping love songs down my yellow teeth, like words on old gravestones: here lies a moontoothed lover who will never rest in peace, every night she claws her grave and hears the call of western waves.

September: I’m high on concussion flavored car races in a stolen low rider, bluebirds fly in circles around my head after we crash, I wrote a song on a 5 dollar bill called blunt force trauma and it is about skater boys with broken noses, snarls of shaggy Jew fro his friends make fun of, and hands. that graze los angeles highways while he rides asphalt waves, slam his locker, and give the finger to the education system he keeps tripping over like untied shoelaces. he pricks those hands sewing together the lackluster parties private school kids throw. he puts his dewy rose bud lips to the jack daniels bottle, and kicks the drum kit over, gives it mouth to mouth, pump his fists into someone’s chest, gives it a pulse again. hands big enough to steal grapefruit with, the size of my swollen heart. I didn’t know it could get that big but he bumped into me, buzzing like a light saber, sky walking out of the grocery store with a grapefruit. with my heart.

October: do you have a girl do you? have a lover? Jupiter is orbiting around whatever this emotion is called, the rollercoaster one. when you look at me. We spend Halloween turning into werewolves at the library, you were moshing in the kids section, bleaching your hair in punk rock, I was banging my bruised and knuckleheaded love poems into a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet, brushing my hair with broken glass. That was the first day the blood on our hands was not our own, she shushed us and we laughed. High on Shakespeare and Jupiter gas, we dug our fangs into the dewy decimal system. You ask me my name, I tell you, you smile. We had matching bruises and I floated home.

November: You make me. Feel. You make me feel like I can speak to snakes. You make me feel like my hips have a purpose besides balancing bins of laundry, and bowls of fruit. You make 17 stop feeling like a suicide note no one will read. you make me banshee scream and lick like fire against young pines, when you. dance. when you. kiss her, let her ride your double dutch hips, and your skateboard. She is a new coin, tangy on his numb tongue, and he tucks her in his pocket, his lucky penny. I’m the bubblegum he scrapes off his sneakers and throws into a storm drain.

December: I still cower into my pillow and smile a crooked smile, and go red at the cheeks, you. You put the red in my cheeks. I’m here, I’m exploding, why can’t you see me? Just put the bottle down, take your hand from your eyes, I won’t ask you what happened to your face, or how you got that scar, I will just like you and like you. we can buy angels wings in Hollywood, make an apartment out of crumpled homework pages at the bottoms of our dirty backpacks, we can drop out of high school, I will like you and dissect your sadness like frogs in freshman biology I am used to the rotting smell in your ribcage, I reek of it too. I will like you. until I know how to love you.

January: I switch schools, I cut my hair, bleach what little is left. It makes my mother unhappy, she thinks my spirit world is severing ties, she thinks my planets are discordant. I ask somebody back home about him, she says he dropped out and started working on cars.

I come down. Softly.

February (again, again, again): He was born to a rabbi and a beauty queen. I was born to a chemist, and a witch. Ammonia, bleach. Don’t mix them unless you want someone to die. Blood, adolescence, summer saltwater. Don’t mix them unless you want to make somebody wish they were dead.

—  2. a crush. and nothing more.
Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: The Sexuality Crisis

Magnus had never been attracted to boys before, only girls. He could appreciate the aesthetic of them, but never before had he wanted to date one. He was as straight as a rod-always had been, and always will be.

So it wasn’t gay of him to think Alex was cute. She was cute on both her female days and male days. It wasn’t gay at all.

Right?

Or: Magnus has a crisis over whether liking Alex is gay or not and everyone else is facepalming at him.

Read it on AO3 and FanFiction

Magnus was straight.

Sure, he had that period of time where he had questioned his sexuality after learning that heterosexuality wasn’t the only one, but everyone went through that. And by the time it was over, he had decided that he was nothing other than straight. The thought of being anything else never crossed his mind again.

But just because Magnus was straight didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the aesthetic of other guys from time to time. He wasn’t blind, he could tell whether people were attractive or not. And sometimes, those guys were pretty nice to look at for a moment or two longer than necessary. But he never once felt the desire to do anything romantic with them, because he wasn’t attracted to guys. It was as simple as that.

“See something ya like?”

Keep reading

You’ll Be Fine

Request: hello friend!!! Could you please do a sister!reader fic where Sams in college and reader is about 15-16 and its it first day of highschool. Shes like really nervous and dean conforts her and stuff. She find a quick salt and burn with the guy she sits next to? Idk i thought of a whole story but i think you could write it better, thanks soooooo much!!! @rosiesstanderds

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I have been dying at college. I hope you enjoy this!! And again, I am sorry I have been dead to the world for like months.

Characters: Dean x Sister!Reader, John Winchester, OC, Sam (mentioned)

Warnings: swearing, angst, violence, mention of blood/gore, sadness, let me know if i missed anything!

Tagging: @percussiongirl2017 @leenasleena-blog @winchesters-favorite-girl

Originally posted by dontlookatmeitwashim

Another stupid day. Another moment where you wake up and forget for a second that Sam is gone, that he left you and Dean, and won’t even answer your texts or phone calls. Another stupid hunt. Another week or two of wondering if Dad is okay, if he is alive. Another stupid school. Another month of hearing Dean complain that Dad left him behind on this hunt to watch poor little old you.

Keep reading

elements1999  asked:

"You can trust me." - DJNoir (reveal?)

::Cackles in glee:: Yeeeeeessssssss Ninoir! 


“Come on this way,” Nino shouted grabbing the frantic looking boy by the hand and practically dragging him towards a small storage closet across from the library. They ran, both conscious of the high pitched beeps signaling the final minute. 

Nino through open the door to the closet and Chat Noir dove inside, slamming the door behind him just as a flash of brilliant green light burst out from the crack at the bottom of the door. 

Nino slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the closet door and his breathing heavy. That had been close. 

“You ok in their dude?” he asked between gasps. 

“Yeah, thanks,” came the nervous reply from the other side of the door. The voice sounded softer somehow. Probably a result of the lack of transformation. 

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t try to look or anything,” Nino said, “you can trust me.” 

“I know,” Chat Noir replied. Nino flushed with pleasure at the indisputable certainty in the heroes voice. 

“Can I get you anything? Some water maybe,” he asked, tilting his head towards the door even though there was no way his companion could possibly see him. 

“Get me some cheese,” a different voice whined. 

“Plagg stop being a glutton for two seconds will you?” 

“But I’m hungry!” 

“Who is that?” Nino called curiously through the door. 

“Oh… it’s… well it’s Plagg. He’s my kwami. It’s sort of a long story.” 

“Is he like your superhero sidekick?” Nino asked excitedly. 

“Sidekick?! I am an immortal demi-god I am no one’s sidekick,” the high pitched voice shot back at him, “without me there would be no Chat Noir. If anything the kid is my sidekick.” 

“Oh,” Nino replied soaking up the information. Alya was going to be so jealous. 

“Now bring me some cheese, puny mortal, before I perish from starvation! preferably some well aged Camembert.” 

“Plagg!” the boy who was Chat Noir groaned, clearly embarrassed by the demi-gods demanding attitude. 

Nino couldn’t help but smile. How cool was this guy that he could be so chill towards an immortal being that grants you super powers? 

“It’s too bad my boy Adrien isn’t here,” he laughed as he pulled out his bag and began rummaging through it, “I swear he is obsessed with that stuff.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” the strange creature replied with a sly tone, “I bet your friend wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave all of his delicious camembert locked away in his bookbag instead of carrying it around in his pocket where it belongs.” 

“Plagg I swear to God-” Chat Noir growled, and Nino couldn’t hold back a small choked laugh. 

“Hey,” he cried triumphantly pulling out a small snack bag his mother had once again snuck into his satchel, “it’s not camembert, but I do have some Brie and-” 

Before he could finish the sentence a small black blur shot out through the door and landed on his knee. 

“Hand it over kiddo!” the tiny catlike creature purred, tail twitching in anticipation. 

Wordlessly Nino held out the small container full of grapes, crackers, and of course the coveted cheese. 

“So,” Nino called to Chat Noir as he watched the little god happily nibble on his treat, “does this happen often?” 

“Does what happen often?” he called back. 

“Getting stranded without your powers?” 

“Sadly more often than I would like,” he admitted, “its pretty rare that I am not the first one to use my powers but I can’t exactly just ditch My Lady in the middle of a battle. It’s a bit rough but I’ll take a few close calls if it means I keep the people I care about safe.” 

Nino grinned again. God this guy was cool. 

He wondered if anyone had ever given much thought to this particular dilemma Chat Noir faced. So much attention was given to Ladybug because of her amazing powers. Not that he thought she didn’t deserve the attention, but Nino had always felt that a lot of his friends undervalued how important Chat Noir was to the dynamic duo. Where others saw weakness- namely Chloe and Kim- he saw sacrifice. After all, how disastrous would it be if Ladybug ever fell under the influence of an akuma? Nino spent enough time hero chasing with Alya to know that most of hits Chat took were for the sake of his partner. Perhaps it was his devil may care attitude, or perhaps it was that unspoken knowledge that his powers were actually pretty terrifying, but not a lot of people seemed to give Chat Noir the kind of appreciation he deserved.

“You know,” Nino said careful, “no offence to Ladybug, but you’re my favorite.” 

“Really?” he replied sounding more than a little awed. 

“Yeah. I mean it’s a lot easier to be the hero when you get all the praise and the cool finishing move. It’s a lot harder to be the person who’s job it is to soak up the damage, you know?” 

“Thanks. I… it’s really nice to hear you say that.” 

“How old are you anyways? I mean if I’m allowed to ask.” 

“I just turned 16.” 

“Dude! You’re my age, that’s crazy!” Nino said with a chuckle. “How do you do it? How can you stand going out there every day knowing that any second you could be fighting another monster? Doesn’t it get exhausting?” 

“Sometimes. But it’s worth it. If it means I am protecting people like you, it will always be worth it.” 

Nino felt his cheeks go scarlet. “Wow man… thanks.” 

“I mean it,” Chat Noir said, his voice barely audible through the door, “you help make this fight worth fighting. You are brave and loyal, and don’t need superpowers to be one of the most heroic people I’ve ever met.” 

Nino’s breath caught. “I… jeez… what am I supposed to say to that?” he joked weakly, “Chat Noir is calling me a hero.” 

He heard a small scoffing sound from the little being still perched on his leg gobbling up the last of the cheese. “You’re little blogger friend was right. You two really are one of those obnoxious lovey-dovey couples.”

“What?” 

“Plagg!” 

“How did you- she was talking about-” 

“I swear to God Plagg, you are not getting another bite of camembert for the rest of the month.” 

“ADRIEN???” 


fic: No Strings

title: no strings.

genre: smut/humour

word count: 3000

description: Phil really misses sex and it turns out that Dan really misses sex, too. So…they just decide to have sex together. No strings. FWB minus the usual dramatic storyline that follows. Hilarity and #bants ensues.

“Just sex?” Phil repeats, “No strings?”

“Yes,” Dan nods, “that’s generally what no strings means,”

“Literally just sex?”

“Fucking hell. Look, Phil, I can spell it out for you or you can put your dick in my ass - it’s totally your choice. Have sex and be satisfied or wank alone to a Muse song again. What’s it gonna be?”

a/n: this is obviously smut but it’s actually funny too i promise, and it’s not like super graphic smut where you’ll cringe or whatever it’s…well, you’ll see. just read it and trust me.

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anonymous asked:

If you want a writing prompt maybe kirk discovering a cluster of freckles on the nape of spock's neck?

ah hopefully this fit your prompt well enough!!

Constellations (find it on ao3 here)

“Spock?”

The dark silhouette remained still, framed in the doorway to the fresher. Jim blinked, then reached out a hand, making his voice softer, more honeyed.

“Spock. Come on, sweetheart. Come to bed with me. Please.”

Spock finally moved, walking towards Jim and settling on the edge of the bed, keeping his face turned away. He took off his socks but made no move to remove the Vulcan robes he had been wearing during meditation. Jim frowned a bit, catching the end of one of the trailing sleeves. A few weeks into their relationship, Spock had discovered just how comfortable Jim’s old loose t-shirts were, and refused to wear anything else to bed. For Spock to not take off his robes to sleep… well, it certainly planted worry in Jim’s head. “Aren’t you gonna take this off?” He asked, keeping his voice soft in the dim light.

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My Jared photo op story!
This was my first ever convention. I am so so pleased with everything. Thank you Jared so much for this experience.
——–
I was waiting in line, so super anxious and tearing up. It was like everything was hitting me at once. I was seeing Jared posing for all these cute pictures with fans and I was just so excited. I was about to meet my biggest inspiration and hope. I continued to repeat what I was going to say in my head to make sure I made this time worth while, because I was really scared it was going to be super rushed (but it actually wasn’t!). I’m also pretty sure Jared was looking at me through the line, probably because I looked like a wreck and wanted to make sure I was okay 😂. I was almost next and the staff took my ticket. She said “don’t cry yet! It’ll be great, you can cry after” so that made me laugh and feel a bit better. The girl in front of me got her picture taken and I was finally able to go up to him. I said hi and he goes “hi how are you!” He then realized me tearing up so he bent down gave me a hug and I was able to whisper in his ear. (Well I was more like screaming so he could hear me cause they had music playing so loud!). But I got to tell him some personal things, how much he has inspired me, and how I couldn’t do it without him. He immediately turns to me, face light up, gives me a high five, grabs my hand and says “wow! I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud.” I said thank you and started crying again. He gave me another really tight hug, looked at me with the most sincere eyes and said, “I know that’s not easy, I know. But that is so fucking awesome. I am so proud.” He would not let go of me, and we still haven’t even taken the picture yet! But he waited to make sure I was okay before rushing anything. I told him thank you and how much he has inspired me, he had the kindest smile the whole time and just kept repeating how proud he was. I handed him the flower crown and asked if he would wear it. He said of course and put it on. He looked at me for a little bit, raised his eyebrows and said, “look good?” And OH MY GOD HE LOOKED AMAZING. at this point I was finally able to stop the tears, and I had the biggest smile. He noticed, smiled back and asked what I would like for the pose. I asked if he could hug me from behind. He smiles, nods, and says, “of course!” He pulled me in closer and wrapped his arms around me. I smiled so big. I was so happy. After the picture was taken he gave me another tight hug, continued to say how proud he was, gave me another high five and held my hand to make sure I was okay. And he still had the flower crown on! I told him how thankful I was and also how proud I am of him. He gave me a very sincere smile. One of the staff members came and took the flower crown off his head, cause it was looking like he wasn’t going to! 😂 and she handed it back to me. As he gave me another hug goodbye, another staff member held my hand. As he let go and I walked off, she continued to talk with me and hold my hand. She said “I know it’s hard to let go of Jared’s hand and not have another hand to hold.” I told her how thankful I was and continued to tear up again. She told me the picture looks so cute and walked me out of the room to make sure I was okay and found my friend. As soon as I walked out I stopped and broke down. My friend ran to me and gave me a tight hug. I was able to tell her a little bit of what happened. A sweet couple behind me came over to me and told me how cute of picture it was and how Jared was smiling. That made me so happy! Another girl waiting in line saw me crying and said, “are you okay? It’s good, girl! You did it! You did it!” Everyone was so nice. It was an experience I will forever cherish and be thankful for, all because of Jared Padalecki.