because-I-love-it

bigwolfchef  asked:

Can you draw lapis and peridot fusion zone like in mindfull education?

Professional meep morpists like them would use those thoughts for inspiration

4

WTNV + OMGCP PART 3: MEET THE INTERNS!

[part 1] [part 2]

Nursey: I’ve got more rhymes than the Bible’s got psalms, 151. I’ve got 151 rhymes.

Some facts about the Samwell campus library:

-Its public computers are outdated and slow.
-The fatality rate is well above the national average for university libraries.
-The compulsory bloodstone library oven does not appear to have seen any maintenance or cleaning in some time.
-There are reports of a many-winged spectre moving about the Biology section, picking off lone browsers one by one with launched mini-pies. It calls itself ‘Holster’.

… Sharks. They are us.

~ So I ate a lot of biscuits and suddenly erupted into feelings on the subject of Awkward Darcy vs Arrogant Darcy. Ultimately though, if someone interprets a character differently and enjoys their interpretation, well, why not? This is just my interpretation, anything I state as fact is only fact to me. ~

~~~

My feelings are that Darcy’s rude and standoffish attitude when in public is not the result of awkwardness or uncertainty in how to behave, but is a deliberate choice on his part. He knows what would constitute polite and pleasant behaviour, and he has the ability to act agreeably if he wanted to. My opinion is that he simply doesn’t want to. 

My impression of Darcy when reading the book is that of someone clever, who usually has a good read on the social situation, and who acts arrogantly because he doesn’t think it worth his while to put effort into pretending to be interested. Bingley is polite and pleasant because he genuinely enjoys the company of those around him and likes balls, talking, pretty women etc. Darcy doesn’t enjoy these things in the same setting as Bingley, so to present that same level of ‘enjoyment’ would require him to pretend and he really can’t be bothered doing that.

His arrogance comes through in that he judges those socially below him as not deserving of his efforts. He can’t see why he should put in that effort and be polite to the people of Meryton who obviously (so he believes) can’t match his high standards of conversation, dress, beauty etc etc. He sees at Meryton “a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest”. The people at the Meryton assembly judge him “to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased”. Given that that’s just an impression from other characters, that doesn’t necessarily speak to the reason behind him acting aloof. However, Darcy himself refuses to dance as “at such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable”.

Darcy’s rude behaviour in interacting with others wouldn’t seem as arrogant if we didn’t have evidence that he’s quite capable of acting well if he chooses. Bingley and Darcy are good friends, presumably Darcy didn’t secure his friendship by ignoring him and refusing to speak with him. And there’s the Gardiners at Pemberley. For me, there isn’t a sense Darcy’s behaviour is prompted by uncertainty in social situations. Darcy is not wracked with nerves or awkwardness in admiring Elizabeth at the Lucas’, he quite freely admits to Caroline that he is admiring her. Regarding Caroline then teasing him about Elizabeth’s “fine eyes” it’s stated that “he listened to her with perfect indifference”. I find Wickham’s statement interesting, that:

“Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him, but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and, perhaps, agreeable, - allowing something for fortune and figure.”

Obviously Wickham is at the time engaged in some serious trash talking and has ulterior motives, so it depends on how much credit you as the reader are willing to give him for accuracy. Personally, I’ve never actually disagreed with this description. It fits well with the impression of Darcy gained from the rest of the book at the time and nothing appears to contradict it.

I get the impression that a lot of Darcy’s ‘awkward’ interactions with Elizabeth are the result of him trying to reconcile his attraction to her with the fact that she’s socially inferior, and therefore not usually worthy of his attention in this way. Combined with the fact that she doesn’t respond as he’s no doubt used to from someone of her standing. I do wonder at what stage Darcy decided he would go ahead and propose. He’s not trying very hard to win her over before Rosing, I’d actually say he isn’t trying to be charming at all. He’s feeling drawn towards her but isn’t committed to acting on it. He is described as being pleased when she leaves Netherfield because she attracted him “more than he liked”, and he is worried he might have given her “hope” in his behaviour (Darcy you peanut). So he definitely wasn’t trying to ‘woo’ her. When he proposes the first time he’s not awkward in aggh how do I approach her what do I do does she like me what do I saaaay. He’s like yeah. I know exactly what to say. This will 100% work because I’m socially superior and she will be saying yes for sure. He appears nervous and unsure because he’s proposing to the woman he likes and this is a deeply Unsuitable Woman, but his nerves aren’t stemming from a fear that he’ll mess this up and she’ll say no. Refusal was definitely not on his list of possible outcomes.

I find so much of the romance is in the fact that Elizabeth completely derails him. He’s going along confident in himself, secure in his ideas of society and the world, believing his ability to handle people and social situations is totally fine, and then suddenly Elizabeth is both socially inferior and clever, beautiful, and demanding respect. Shock horror. This works because he is genuinely arrogant and superior and rude. Elizabeth did misjudge him, but it wasn’t simply a case of her discovering the ‘real’ Darcy. The real Darcy was a dick. It was more her prompting him to be a better version of himself, and her realising that he was actually capable of being that better person.

“I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. …taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty, and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What I do not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

6

I… I almost got killed. The killer took a shot at me. He called my dad’s house, and I answered it. He showed up right away after a few minutes. I was running away from him, and he took a shot at me. I came here right before it hit me.

Imagine a huge smile appearing on Woozi’s face when he hears you singing one of Seventeen’s song to yourself.

So this morning I hit 250 followers it’s been like a month and a half omg! Honestly, I’m not one that obsesses over their follow count, but I was shocked because I never thought this little blog would even pass 3 followers. I would like to thank everyone who’s liked or rebloged my posts, followed me, or messaged me. I’m very grateful and it does not go unnoticed.

I hope that I’m able to get to know you all more and that you all become more comfortable with me. Thank you all once again. 

If anyone wants to message me, whether it be through my ask box on anonymous, or in the personal messenger, please feel free to do so! I enjoy hearing what you all have to say and meeting new people i have no friends is what im trying to say here get the hint please.

italicized= mutuals (thank you all, and I hope that we’re able to become closer as time goes by lmao chessy af :)))

bold= favorites (may or may not be following me but I really enjoy their blog I totally don’t stalk their blog everyday wAt and I hope others come to like it as well.)

Keep reading

6

Arashi Live Tour 2015: Japonism
└ MatsuJun Appreciation Post (1/?) ♥

  • TWD/FTWD Fandom:we want non white men who are allowed to have emotions and feelings, who are complicated and have demons of their own without demonizing them!
  • FTWD:*creates Chris and Travis Manawa, characters with emotional depth and struggles that don't necessarily make them apocalypse experts*
  • Fandom:oh ew not like that
A Chance Encounter

Submitted by @fanboyofallthingsfandom

Alfred sighed as he walked through the Hall of Omegas, his sapphire eyes scanning the various paintings and statutes of Omegas of great influence. He’d broken off from his small group, bored with Mr. Ford’s droning account of the Alphas that made history. Alexander the Great, King Arthur, Czar Nicholas, to name a few. His friend Ludwig was more than interested with the lesson, but Alfred simply wasn’t.

   Truth be told, the young Alpha was bored with the private school life. He hated that his parents had him in a school filled with nothing but Alphas. It was so… boring. Uniforms and wrestling clubs and classes teaching how to tend to and provide for Omegas, none of it was really Alfred’s style.

   Sure, Alfred wanted to be a respectable Alpha, with a cool job like a fireman or a cop or something really awesome like a superhero (despite Mr. Ford’s repeated insistence that superheroes were the work of “trite comic books”). But he also wanted to have friends that weren’t all Alphas. His baby brother Mattie (an Omega) had a Beta friend named Kiku who refused to speak to Alfred on account of his being an Alpha.

   And admittedly, Alfred wanted to know an Omega. To know someone who could at least give him a clue as to what to expect from a future life partner. Mattie wasn’t much help and neither was their mother when it came to Alfred’s wanting to get more knowledge on the subject of Omegas. Whenever he asked his mom, he said it wasn’t something a 7 year old should focus on, which Alfred thought was stupid because it was a matter of his future and adults were always going on and on about how important the future was.

   In his fit of frustration, Alfred was stomping through the hall and ran into someone, falling on top of them.

   “Oh, I’m sorry!” He offered as he got up, trying to find his glasses. His hands groped the floor, only for a soft hand to grab one.

   “Oh, it’s alright…” A timid voice offered, and Alfred’s glasses were placed in his hand. “W-What’re you doing in here? Y-You don’t look like much of an Omega.”

   “I’m not an Omega, I’m an Alp-” Alfred began, only to be cut off as he put his glasses back on, his sapphire eyes widening.

   A soft, concerned face stared back at him, pale blond locks neatly brushed out of eyes that could put emeralds to shame. The boy, who Alfred realized couldn’t have been more than 7, was dressed in a pair of tan khakis, a white button up shirt and a green sweater-vest as well as a matching blazer. Clearly a uniform for a private school. And, judging by the boy’s earlier statement, an Omega school at that.

   “You’re an Alpha?” The boy harshly whispered. “That won’t do, that won’t do at all. You’re not supposed to talk to me and I’m not supposed to talk to you. Go away, now, before someone finds us!”

   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Alfred asked, noticing the smaller boy clearly panicking.

   “My older brother Scott’s an Alpha, and he says Alphas and Omegas from private schools aren’t supposed to meet. It’s highly improper and it could land the both of us in trouble, now please leave.”

   Alfred frowned, adjusting his loosened maroon blazer, black khakis and white button up, a hand flying to his hair in attempt to soothe down the persistent cow lick strand. “What’s wrong with us talking? It’s not like we’re breaking the law or anything. I’m Alfred by the way. Alfred Fitzgerald Jones.” Alfred extended his hand, smiling slightly as the boy shook it.

   “Arthur Kirkland, and as I was saying-” Arthur cut off, his emerald eyes looking at his hand. “Oh dear! Oh dear! We just… I just… Oh the headmistress will have my head for this! Of all the improprieties! Holding hands with an Alpha!” Arthur wailed, his slight form trembling.

   Alfred’s Alpha instincts quickly took over, and without even thinking he quickly pulled the whimpering Omega into a hug.

   Arthur froze slightly, making Alfred worry he’d done something wrong. A second later however, the blond melted into Alfred’s arms and sighed contentedly, his frazzled nerves dying down as he returned the embrace.

   Alfred pulled away, surprised to hear a sound of disappointment from Arthur. Hoping to help ease the Omega’s withdrawal, Alfred wrapped his hand around Arthur’s, the blond returning the gesture with a slight pink tinge on his cheeks.

   “Why did you freak out so much?” Alfred asked as they meandered, looking at the paintings of Omegas long gone.

   Arthur frowned, sighing gently. “Mum always told me that an Omega can’t get far in this world. We’re considered to be little more than an Alpha’s mate and a mother for their children. We have to follow guidelines, if that’s what you’d call them, to ensure we get a mate and we won’t end up alone. Omegas who aren’t mated often don’t live happy lives. And for an Omega to have previous physical contact with an Alpha before mating with another, it’s considered inappropriate and it marks the Omega as somewhat of a pariah. So when you touched me, I-I panicked…”

   Alfred frowned. “Well that seems stupid. Why do Omegas have to follow all these stupid rules? Alphas don’t have to, and my brother’s friend Kiku, he says Beta’s don’t either.”

   “It’s just the way things are. It’s the way thing always have been.” Arthur offered, stopping to look at a painting of an Omega.

   Radiant as the sun, with skin pale from never knowing the harsh rays of the sun. Hair like spun gold and eyes a deep shade of forest green. An Omega, a Queen, in his finest dress, looking regal and lovely and angelic and pure and everything an Omega should aim to be. Around him, his children, all cherubic and perfect and never naughty.

   Arthur looked at the painting and frowned, his subconscious telling him he could never have something like that.

   “That doesn’t seem fair. I wouldn’t give my Omega a bunch of stupid rules to follow. I’d just want them to be happy. I’d be the best Alpha ever for them, I’d work and I’d bring home lots of money so we could have a bunch of kids and live in a huge house and-”

   “Is that what you think all Omegas want?” Arthur asked suddenly, seeming surprised at his own boldness as his brow furrowed. “Some perfect mate who will bring them home fancy trinkets and to wait on hand and foot and serve as a baby factory?”

   Alfred frowned. “No, I’d want them to be happy with what I bring them. I’d bring them gifts to show them how much I love them. And if they wanted kids, I’d be happy, but if they didn’t I’d be happy too. I just want someone who loves me and who I’ll love.”

   Arthur blushed slightly, embarrassed at his outburst. He was breaking a lot of rules and he was no doubt going to break more continuing to talk to the Alpha boy. “Alfred… if your mate wanted to, would you let them work?”

   “I mean, if they wanted to I would. It’s just my mom’s happy at home, he says he’s fine raising me and Mattie. But if my mate wanted to work, I’d be fine with it.” Alfred admitted sheepishly, hoping he wouldn’t offend the Omega further.

Arthur smiled softly. “Y-You would? You really would? You wouldn’t get upset and say that an Omega’s place is in the home and that they don’t belong in the work force?”

Alfred frowned. “Why would I say that? That’s just mean, and my dad told me never to be mean to Omegas, that they’re just as good as Alphas and Betas and they shouldn’t be treated like anything less.”

Alfred was about to ask Arthur what was wrong when the Omega tackled him in a hug. “That’s so perfectly sweet of you!” He exclaimed, his grip like a vice on Alfred.

“N-No problem.” Alfred offered, feeling his face heat up as the Omega remained close to him.

“Y'know, I think you’re the first Alpha I’ve met who treated me as an equal.” Arthur mused.

“Well, I’m a hero, I try to help people.” Alfred offered, grasping at straws for what to say. He mentally groaned at his lack of articulation compared to the Omega.

“You certainly would make a fine hero, Alfred.” Arthur smiled, blushing slightly. “I-I have to go. The other boys will be expecting me, I told them to wait for me…”

Alfred frowned. “But I probably won’t be able to see you again.”

Arthur frowned before perking up with an idea. Pulling out a piece of notebook paper, he quickly looked at Alfred. “What school do you go to?”

“Um, The Upperland Academy for Alphas.”

Arthur smiled. “Oh joy, your school and mine go transfer into the same high school! We’ll be able to see each other then!”

Alfred frowned. “But what about now? Seven years just to see you again?”

Arthur frowned slightly before his cheeks lit up. Before Alfred could ask, a soft pair of lips met his cheek in a chaste kiss. Arthur pulled away, his cheeks glowing pink.

“I-I hope that’s enough to remember me by?” Arthur offered, quickly pressing the slip of paper into Alfred’s hand before he scurried away.

Alfred turned back to the main hallway, seeing his group. As he rejoined the other Alphas, he looked at the paper and smiled at what it said.

Dear Alfred,
Please hold onto this paper for me. When we meet again, if the Fates allow it, show it to me so we might recognize each other. I’m anxious to see the kind of man you become, but I how you don’t change too much, because you’ve already won over an Omega. Seven years may seem long, but I do hope you won’t forget me. Perhaps we might be able to be more than friends at such a time?
Yours sincerely,
Arthur Kirkland.

A/N: I hope you like it, I figured if you wanted something done right, best to do it yourself.

i was an official city hall tour guide in montreal this summer and, as some of you requested, here are some anecdotes. get ready for a long ass posts filled with complaints. 

  • first of all, literally no one understands that ’hotel de ville’ in french means city hall. no one. they all assume it’s a hotel. people called to make reservations. they showed up with suitcases. they asked if they could visit the rooms. no one got it, which is one thing. but the worst part is that they would argue with us. like, oh french is so weird you guys should change the word. like yeah, we’re gonna change the whole french language because you’re all idiots
  • also, people do not read things. they just don’t. there’s a poster with the info on it ? people won’t read it. they’ll ask you about it. they will be annoyed if you tell them to read the poster. we had a big black poster with three things written on it : free tour, ‘meeting point for the tour’ and the schedules for the tour. i would stand next to it before the tour started and people STILL came up to me to ask bs like 'where do we meet for the tour ?’, 'how much does it cost ?’ and 'when does the tour start ?’. frankly, i was annoyed
  • this is very specific but a lady asked me if jacques cartier, aka the first european to set foot on the island of montreal in 1535, was the same cartier that makes the jewellery
  • i mentioned this before but an old dude had the nerve to tell i wasn’t dressed appropriately for someone who worked in city hall because the back of my high-neck knee-length dress was a bit sheer and you could see my bra
  • multiple people told me that quebec was stubborn and that we should stop protecting french and start speaking english because 'this is north america !’, 'this is canada !’ and other bullshit, as if we’re gonna turn our backs on thousands of years of history because the british felt like taking control 
  • old men would regularly hand me tips and say things like 'because you’re so darn cute’ or 'with such a cute smile, you deserve 5$’. my response was usually the same : 'keep it’
  • people never listened to the rules. you tell them not to touch the microphones, they will touch the microphones. you tell them not to play with buttons, they will play with buttons.
  • this is a funnier one. on our terrace we have some vegetables and herbs that grow, and we had huge zucchinis with the flowers, which are a popular delicacy in greece. so this old greek lady offered me 75$ for the zucchini flowers. i had to say no because we actually give them to a nonprofit organization, but i’m pretty sure she stole a few
  • so many people asked to meet the mayor. the mayor of montreal. montreal being the second biggest city in canada. sure, why don’t i swing by his office, he probably has a few hours to spare for a lady from denver who was shocked to find out that summers in canada are warm and that we don’t have snow all year long
  • people yelled at us constantly and for no reason. one time, i was about to start my 3:30 tour in french when a lady and her daughter came up to me with a paper in their hands, yelling that the 3:30 tour was supposed to be in english. i answered pretty calmly that no, it was in french and it had always been like that. the daughter asked if they could come back some other day with the same tickets. i was confused because we don’t have tickets. they showed me a paper which said they had to meet in front of city hall for a walking tour. i told them they weren’t in the right spot. they yelled at me that this was confusing. so i just told them that in front rarely means inside. they told me to change my attitude, so i called security
  • people snapped their fingers constantly to get my attention which imo is the most impolite thing you can do. like this is city hall. we have a strict security protocol. once i’m inside city council room, i can’t let anyone else in. but people snap their fingers at you because they want to join a tour even though they’ve missed half of it already. and then they get mad when you say no because 'who cares there’s just two of us’ um yeah no thanks i’d rather not get yelled at
  • so many annoying guys would take the tour and make inappropriate comments the whole and would basically just not listen and flirt with me. i bring people on a terrace where there’s a lot of wind. i usually wear dresses, so when i go on the terrace, i make sure to hold my dress. this one time, these three dudes were just yelling 'LET IT GO COMMON LET IT GO’ and i had to talk over them while starring at this little family from vancouver who just wanted to see the nice view
  • also, this one dude who wasn’t doing a tour just yelled 'NICE DRESS’ to me while i was speaking to tourists
  • a 14 year old teen starred at my chest for 40 minutes straight. kid never stopped looking. i was actually impressed to be honest
  • when you’re a younger tour guide, people will constantly try to trap you. they’ll ask question after question, to try to get you to say you don’t know. it got to the point where i would stay up in the evenings, reading about topics that didn’t even have anything to do with city hall because i refused to be humiliated
  • oh yeah, people blamed me for the construction. it’s obviously my responsibility. the 21 year old tour guide that’s been here for three months is clearly in charge of everything
  • no one knows anything about canada. no one. everyone thinks we’re nice, we like maple syrup and we’re kinda like the us. but they don’t know shit. they come to montreal, expecting it to be like chicago or something, and then they’re mad because we’re ‘too european’ or ‘nothing’s written in french’. they ask stuff like ‘whos the president’, not understanding that no, this isn’t france or no, this isn’t the us. they don’t know that we started out as a french colony and then became a british colony. they don’t know that we’re still kind of a british colony and that the queen is technically our political leader. people don’t know. it’s amazing. no one gives a single shit about canada basically. i mean i don’t blame them, we suck, but we’re also pretty neat.

so there you have it. a condensed summary of 11 weeks as a tour guide for montreal’s city hall. it was a fantastic job but people are assholes basically.

It’s time for me to tease you...

With fanfiction that is ;)

This is a little blurb from a Sabriel piece I’ve written, it was inspired by one of the September prompts for the @gabriel-monthly-challenge . (I’m SO EXCITED for the blog the prompts to be posted, I can’t wait to see what you all come up with. It’s less than a week away now! AHHHH!)

(That’s an actual gif of @waterkiss37 @ashiewesker and myself. I’ll let you guys guess who’s who. I’m George.)

The entire thing will be posted September 1st, but I wanted to give you all a sneak peek. This will also fit into my Sabriel In Color series as Blue. (Side Note: I already have Gold written, I’ve started on Black, and I have an idea for Orange but I’m holding them all for appropriate seasons. Yes, I know I’m a horrible person.)

Anyway, without further ado, here is your teaser for Blue!

*****

Sam was never a big car guy, but when he spotted that car even he had done a double take.

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Oh, you know, just something I snapped up along the way.” Gabriel huffed on his fingers and polished them on his chest, making Sam’s eyes roll. “You like?”

Sam stepped closer, bending himself in half to peer in the window. The car sat low and Sam looked like a giant next to it. “Who wouldn’t?”

Gabriel held out the keys, swinging them in looping circles over the tip of his index finger. “Wanna drive?”

Sam stood up to his full height and looked down at the angel. “I don’t think I’ll even fit in this car.”

Gabriel threw the keys, knowing Sam would snatch them out of the air, and he did. He sauntered around to the passenger side and slid in, the heavy metal door clicking shut. He didn’t bother to answer Sam’s concern. Sam would fit in the car, he’d make sure of it, even if he had to snap the car larger, he would.

He smiled when he saw Sam reach out, he heard the metal sound of the handle being pulled and then Sam slid his long frame behind the wheel. His legs bent at awkward angles, contorting their length as they fit the wheel between them, and then his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “Not as small as I thought it’d be,” his hands gripped the wheel, running around it before he slid the key in the ignition and turned her over. She purred softly back at Sam.

“Yeah, well, that back seat it pretty much useless. Don’t be planning on ravishing me back there, I don’t think we’ll fit.”

Sam chuckled as he slid the car into first gear and pulled her out on the road. “Shut up, Gabe.

Bliss (Lin x Reader)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT VERY SMUT, ANGRY SEX, cussing

Setting: Modern, smut (it’s my first smut heheheh)

Prompt: none

Summary: The reader is a fan of Hamilton and moves to new york with her friend Bryan, and they meet Groff and Lin, then Lin becomes jealous Lin and then boom smut

Words: 1,971

Notes: I have not been posting because of school, and I promise that I will write more soon, but I need to find the balance with school. Anywayyyy here is a smut to start off your weekend! Love you all!


The impact of your back on the concrete wall could have broken your spine and you couldn’t care less.

Lin didn’t give you a chance to breathe. He smashed his lips hungrily onto yours and ripped the stitching in your underwear. He tossed them into the trash.

“We won’t be needing those, now will we?”

___________________________________________________

“Bry, hurry up! We are going to be late!”

Bryan has been your friend ever since high school. You bonded over a mutual love for the arts, and nobody has been able to separate you ever since. You were on your way to the Hamilton stage door, where you would meet the cast after the matinee. I mean, you are going to, if Bryan doesn’t take so damn long to dry his hair.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)! I have to look good for Daveed. Ima get a PIECE of that ass.”

He strolled out of the bathroom with a confident stride and a beaming smile. “Well, how do I look?”

“Smashing, darling. Now get your shoes on and let’s go.”


It was so cold outside, you felt hot.

You and Bryan were waddling down the crowded street, arm in arm. Considering you both just moved here from California, it was a drastic change. This kind of cold surpassed the “I-can-see-my-breath” kind of cold. It was inhumane.

When you finally made it to the stage door, you were relieved to find that nobody was waiting in line to meet the cast yet. You sat down with Bryan and leaned with your back on the fence.

“(Y/N), do you think we are here too early?”

“No, remember the time we waited to meet Brendon Urie? We got there 5 hours early, and we didn’t even get to meet him. Besides, we are only here four hours early, not five.”

He huffed and brought his scarf around his mouth. He said something but it was muffled. He either said, “Fine” or, “Fuck.” You could have related either way.


About thirty minutes had passed until you heard a familiar voice talking to another. Where had you heard that voice before…

Jessie St. James. (aka Groffsauce)

Hi totally irrelevant but I just started watching Glee a few days ago because Jon was in it and oh my god it’s amazing. Please go watch it if you haven’t, it will bless you. I’m already on Season 2!

You felt a tap on your shoulder. You spun around to see Jonathan Groff leaning over the fence and facing Bryan, talking to him. More importantly, you met a pair of dark eyes with small snowflakes hanging off of the eyelashes. Lin.

“Hey, I’m Lin. Are you two here for the stage door?”

You kind of forgot how to speak at the moment, so you nodded your head.

“Four hours early? In these weather conditions?” John chimed in.

You and Bry both nodded.

“Well,” John protested, “It’s too cold out here. You could freeze in those paper-thin jackets! Come inside and warm up.” Lin opened the gate and held out his hand. He guided you inside with Jon and Bryan treading closely behind. The warmth of the theater overcame you. You could feel your nose again! Lin led you to a stairwell off the side of stage right.

“Go into the room upstairs, to your right, two doors down. It’s my dressing room and you can cool off in there.”

You and Bryan made your way up the stairs and into Lin’s dressing room. The walls were lined with fan-made art, books, photographs, trophies, dolls, cassette tapes, you name it. 


You ended up talking to Groffsauce and Lin for an hour. You told Jon about your obsession with Glee a few years back. You accidentally called him Jessie. Twice. Jon was occupied with Bryan, and you were talking to Lin. You talked about your hopes and dreams. You talked about the universe. Life after death. Childhood. You had a deeper connection with him in 30 minutes than you had with friends of 10 years. 

“In the Heights is what really got me into preforming. So, I guess I should thank you. If it wasn’t for In the Heights, I would have probably never found a state of mind that I felt so at home. It’s amazing what live theater can do to a person’s happiness.”

“Thank you (Y/N). It means so much to me that you think that way, but I have to ask.. Why did you like In the Heights so much?”

“It gave me a sense of passion and comfort, for when nobody was there to give me either of those things. Also, honestly, it might have been a contributing factor that I had the hugest crush on you as a teenager.”

Oop. Did you really have to say that.

Lin laughed and tried to hide his oh-so-obvious blush. He started playing nervously with the fabric of his shirt and looked down.

“Awwwwwwwwww!” Jon sung. “(Y/N) and Linny sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-” He was cut off by Lin’s razor sharp glare. Jon let his lower lip hang out. “What’s wrong darling, cat got your tongue?” 

Lin stood up and took your hand. “Let’s say we go on a tour of the set. You like that idea?” You nodded and followed him out the door.


The next few hours following that were even better than the last. You and Bryan went on a tour of the Hamilton set and met the rest of the cast. You even got to stay for the show. Well, you didn’t get to watch from the audience, but you got to see all the commotion backstage! You had a mini-dance party with some of the cast while The Schuyler Sisters song was going on! After that, Bryan pulled you aside. 

“(Y/N), did you see the way Lin was looking at you?”

“No, when?”

“During the dance party! He came out of the side door and he didn’t particularly like how… close you were getting with Daveed. He looked kind of angry.”

Then, you got an idea.


Bryan went out to lunch with Thayne and left you alone to fend for yourself. Thanks friend.

With or without him, It was time to put your plan into action.

You and the rest of the cast were hanging out on stage when Daveed invited you to sit next to him. You were talking with a bunch of other cast members, including Lin. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were relishing in every second. 

You gave Daveed light touches and leaned on him. When it was Lin’s turn to talk, his tone was cold and he only looked at the way you were holding onto Daveed. You had him right where you want him. He knew what you were doing. It was only a matter if he acted upon it or not, before Daveed could catch on.

(Y/N), I need to talk to you. it’s important. 

A chorus of “oooohs” and “girl you in troubles” filled the room. Lin grabbed your hand and brought you up to his dressing room. Dragged would be more like it. He slammed the door behind you and got in your face. You tried to stay as calm as you could, but a jealous Lin is a scary Lin.

“I know what you’re doing. You are just trying to make me jealous.”

“So what?”

So what? What do you mean by that?”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

He gaped at you for a few seconds, and then flashed a devilish smile.

“Is that a challenge?”

___________________________________________________

You winced. That underwear was fucking expensive.

Lin crashed his lips onto yours again and shoved a finger up into you. He held your shoulder to the wall and pumped in and out vigorously.

“I’m going to make you regret making me jealous.”

Two fingers. Your stomach tightened.

“Because when I’m jealous, I don’t play nice.”

Three fingers. You saw stars.

“You’re mine.” 

You couldn’t hold it anymore. You started shuddering and your breath became uneven. “Lin, I’m so..”

He pulled his fingers out of you. “I told you. I don’t play nice.”

He went to his couch and sat down. “Shirt off.”

You took your shirt off. He laid down and pointed to his face. “Sit.”

You stepped over to him and he grabbed your thighs. He hoisted you up onto his face and started licking your clit. He rolled his tongue around and pushed two fingers into you, pumping in and out. You rode his face and fingers, and he massaged your breast. You couldn’t hold it in. You felt a sensation in your stomach, and-

He lifted you off of him and set you down. Before he had the chance to say anything, you got on your knees in front of him and snapped off his belt. You wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and the elastic of his boxers. You looked up at him as if to ask permission. His eyes were dark and glazed over, his hair unkempt and chunks of spilling out of his ponytail. “(Y-Y/N).. please..”

You yanked his boxers and jeans to the floor, and revealed his size. He was.. to say the least, massive. You hovered over his tip and took it into your mouth. You rolled your tongue over it. He shivered at the feeling. You kissed his tip and started stroking his base. You licked up and down the shaft and contained eye contact. His chest started to rise and fall in weird patterns. You took him whole into your mouth and started bobbing up and down. He let out uneven, heavy moans. When he was about to release, you licked from the base to the tip, and sucked the tip. You felt a warm texture fill your mouth.

He sat up and hair was sticking to his face, and his it was no longer in a ponytail. You climbed on top of him and kissed him as he came down from his high. Once he came off, he seized both sides of your hips and laid you face-up on the floor. He planted kisses on all areas of your body. “You are the most beautiful woman ever. I want to be with you.” He sang you more praises as he traveled down your body, coursing electricity through your veins with each kiss. He positioned his hips at your entrance and looked at you. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I need you. I nee-”

“Are you sure? I mean, it really seems like you like Daveed.” he said with a grin.

“Lin, I need you..” you let out in a voice so soft and strained that you weren’t sure he could hear you.

“No misericordia.”

He plowed into you with his full length. You could swear there was nothing more blissful than this. He hit against your g-spot with every stroke. You ground on him and pulled on his hair. He grabbed the floor for support and hovered over you. You felt your impending release for the final time.

“(Y/N). Cum for me. Scream for me.”

You did just that.

Lin rode you off your high. You pulled out of him, got on your knees, and sucked him until he released. You laid on the floor for a few minutes, still calming down. You both got up and started dressing again, barely parting from kisses to actually put on your clothes. You finally finished and Lin turned to you with a face of pure joy. What a dork.

“I don’t know what to say, (Y/N). You are truly amazing.”

You beamed at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. He nuzzled into your sweatshirt and started playing with your hair. 

“I think I love you..”


Well hello fellow nasties

I hope you enjoyed this one!

~G

anonymous asked:

drones era is over

*puts earphones in* sorry i can’t hear you *turns volume up to max* HERE COME THE DR0O0OONES