cutoff shirts

I want to see Greek gods in the modern era.

I want to see Zeus in a tailored suit and shaggy beard, a walking disparity of the loud, brash, post-graduate frat boy variety who can’t pass a woman on the street without catcalls, who has more one-night stands than he could possibly keep in his head, for whom adultery comes as naturally as the weather he predicts on the Channel 4 News—with startlingly accuracy, and an endless wealth of charisma.

I want to see Hera walking tall, six-inch heels and not a wrinkle in her skirt, knowing her boyfriend is cheating, and knowing with equal certainty that she is better, stronger, fiercer than he will ever be, a wedding planner with an eye of steel, spotting vulnerability, slicing it open, teaching every woman who crosses her path to value themselves over any mistake made in the name of men and love.

I want to see Poseidon in Olympic prime, a gym rat who skives off class to shatter backstroke records, who spends his summers lifeguarding at the city pool, who keeps an ever-expanding aquarium in his bedroom and coaxes all the pretty girls up to visit his fish, his charm as impressive as the earth-rending temper he generally uses to fuel his competitive nature.

I want to see Hades, big, hulking, quieter than his brothers would ever think to be, who dresses in neat dark clothes, and polishes his boots, and spends more time reading than fighting, who debates eventuality and ethics, who stoically reminds everyone how enormous, how terrifying, how inescapable a thing like silent inevitability can be.

I want to see Hermes in a beanie, with watercolor splashes of tattoo crawling up his arms and holes in his Chucks, a bike messenger with no helmet, no regard for the rules of the road, all cataclysmic laughter, lock-pick tricks passed along to every kid who thinks to ask, thumbing through his iPhone without a care in the world.

I want to see Athena with reading glasses pushed high on her head, six books in her bag and a switchblade in her back pocket, her clothing as neatly ordered as her mind is feverish, brilliance and temper clashing and blending, doing her best to look dignified—even when her brain chemistry rockets ahead of her well-intentioned plans.

I want to see Apollo splattered with acrylics, board shorts and Monster headphones and a beautiful classic car, busking on street corners, not because he has no choice, but because the sunlight catching on a sticker-patterned acoustic is summer incarnate, because music is blood, because the act of creation is the ultimate in sublime.

I want to see Artemis in ripped jeans and haphazard topknot, star of the soccer team, the track team, the archery team, who rides a motorcycle, and keeps a tribe of girls around her at all times, and does not care for men, for expectation, for anything but volunteer hours down at the local animal shelter and falling asleep under the stars.

I want to see Aphrodite in sundress and scarf, homemade jewelry and lavish amounts of bright red lipstick, who is excellent at public speaking, at theater auditions, at soothing bruised egos and sparking epic fights, who kisses as easily as she breathes and scrawls poetry onto bathroom stalls.

I want to see Ares all but living in the boxing ring, cutoff shirts and sweats, red-faced under a crew cut as he punches, punches, punches until the noise in his head dims, a warrior with no war, all crude jokes and blind fury, totally incapable of understanding what it is to sit, think, plan before running screaming into the fray.

I want to see Demeter with the best garden you’ve seen in your life, with a lawn care business she runs out of her garage, a teenage prodigy grown into a joint-custody single mother, who teaches her carefree daughter all she knows while scaring off the hopeful neighborhood boys with the pet python draped across her shoulders.

I want to see Dionysus with a joint in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, baggy hoodies and three-week-old jeans, who brews his own beer in his basement and greets all visitors with a fresh pack of Oreos and half-stoned theories of the universe, of birth and death and partying mid-week, because why not, man?

I want to see Hephaestus with a workshop taking up the majority of his house, whose kitchen is overrun with blowtorches, whose bathrooms are home to all manner of hodge-podge invention, who walks with a cane and forgets his laundry for weeks at a time, and strings together the most beautiful steampunk costumes at any convention at the drop of a hat.

I want to see wood nymphs fighting against climate change, waving their signs and pushing for scientific progress. I want to see epic heroes sitting down to Magic: The Gathering tournaments, poker brawls, Call of Duty all-nighters with beer and snapbacks. I want to see Medusa working a women’s shelter, want to see Achilles training for deployment, want to see Prometheus serving endless community service stints for what he calls providing necessary welfare with stolen goods.

Give me modern mythology. I could play for hours in that sandbox.

Nico coming out to Hazel

Art + Fic because I’ve had this small fic sitting around in my drafts for awhile and felt like publishing it. Thanks to everyone who came to my stream!! Drawing this one was a lot of fun.

“Yeah, I uh…” Nico’s gaze was faraway, and he began to twist at the ring on his index finger. Nico sighed and looked away. “Forget it.”

Hazel stuck out her lower lip. “Nico, what’s been eating at you?” She murmured tenderly. Hazel took a step closer to her brother, and Nico shuffled his feet in response. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you disappearing again.” She blinked slowly, not looking away from Nico’s dark, hollow eyes. He wouldn’t meet Hazel’s gaze. “C'mon, sit down at least.” She reached out and gave a little tug to Nico’s wrist.

They sat down at the base of a tree and gazed out at Camp Half-Blood’s morning-bustling troopers. They were far enough away, though, that they couldn’t hear more than an occasional pegasus whinny from the stables or giggle of the naiads in the nearby lake. Nico stayed quiet, and the two siblings sat in silence, listening to the stream.

Hazel shuffled through the river rocks at their feet and handed Nico a smooth, flat one that. “Here, watch me.”

Nico tossed his gaze over at Hazel, then at the rock before taking it from her hands. He followed Hazel’s lead when she threw the stone into the river, except Nico managed to skipped his three times.

“If there’s… Something you want to talk about, I’m all ears.” Hazel spoke quietly.

>>The rest of the mini fic under the cut:

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Photo Quest | On AO3
Word Count: ~7000
Warnings: None

Summary: A ficlet based on an old Imzy prompt. Steve loses a wallet, where he keeps a secret picture of Tony. His team of heroes is of no help, but hey, Thor’s roommate Daryl has some strangely insightful advice about ham. 

Also for STONY Bingo Square S4 - ‘Pining’

Captain America didn’t panic. Serum-enhanced national treasures usually didn’t, and good for them because Steve Rogerssoldier, punk, plucky kid from Brooklyndefinitely was. Panicking, that is.

He thumbed tensely through the video feed on his Starkpad. A panoramic view of every common area in the Tower was right there at his fingertips, and some not-so-common areas were just a passcode away. In addition, he had access to satellite feeds and other methods of surveillance that walked a thin line Constitution-wise, but none of them really solved his problem.

“Anything?” he asked FRIDAY.

‘Negative,’ replied the AI.

“Oh jeez, still?” Steve asked in a voice that might have been called a whine if someone who was not him were describing it.

“Captain, I’m doing my best,” FRIDAY protested. “A full building scan takes time, y’know?“

“Limit it to my recorded locations.” he commanded brusquely. “Last 48 hours.”

“You didn’t authorize me to record your movements within the Tower,” said FRIDAY, and Steve figured he probably deserved the smug undertone behind her serene professionalism.

He closed his eyes and slumped back in his seat anyway. “Goddamn it.“

“Woah, language.”

Steve snapped his eyes open at the wry tenor, instantaneously flipping the Starkpad over. He found himself face to face with Tony, much like a deer in headlights. It was not a good look on him, and Tony’s brow rose in predictable confusion.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, and lightweight that he was, Steve could already feel his face grow warm.

He made a valiant effort nonetheless. “Nothing.”

“Oh, because it totally sounded like you were arguing with my AI,” Tony folded his arms now. He loomed, and Steve really had no other choice but to notice how he was dressed to spar— cutoff shirt, hand wraps, trunks that hugged his waist just right… “And losing.”

While Steve battled his sudden case of dry mouth, Tony continued. “Come on, what’s making America’s golden boy swear in the presence of a disembodied lady?”

“I lost my wallet,” Steve admitted.

Tony looked skeptical, but didn’t actually say anything about it. He rattled commands off to his AI instead, “FRIDAY, order replacements for Cap’s charge cards and report his IDs as lost.”

“Already done, boss,” FRIDAY replied, more pleasantly than she’d done for Steve.

“Done,” Tony echoed. He flashed Steve a thumbs up. “Mission accomplished?”

Steve tapped his fingers on the Starkpad. “My wallet is still missing, so no.”

“Then, let’s order a wallet. You ok with leather?”

“Tony, no.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t want a new wallet, I’m going to find my old one.”


And that’s the thing about Steve: he may be a terrible casual liar, but he was made to get out of potentially ruinous situations that might threaten the very structure of the team.

He stood and clasped Tony’s shoulder. “Because I’m a weird old man, remember? Let me live.”

Steve managed to pull off a mostly casual stroll to the elevator to head up to his suite. He smiled genially at Tony through the doors while pressing the button to his floor, and Tony stared back at him with undisguised suspicion.

Steve held his smile for the eternity it took for the elevator doors to close, and slumped back against the wall as soon as they did. Why was he like this?  

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Punk/Tattoo Shop HCs

(It’s been too long since I did any “original” content so like take this and run with it I guess?)

-Mark is COVERED in tattoos
-probably wears a “tattoo daddy” cutoff shirt
-not so much that he doesn’t have any bare skin left or anything but, two full sleeves, a chest piece, both hands and knuckles are done, he’s got a back piece started and a few scattering his legs
-he’s also got a septum piercing, small gauges and a few other piercings in his ears, along with his tongue. He’s also got his bellybutton pierced because he’s fucking adorable okay? And of course, his nips are pierced
-working in a tattoo shop, he’s the best in the shop with script and with portraits, but is good at other kinds of tattooing as well
-quiet but will talk to you if you talk to him when he’s tattooing
-loves opening up guest spots in the shop whenever possible, always leaving room for Felix to come when he wants to, always an open door for the Swede and his girlfriend

-no tattoos because he’s not super crazy about them on himself, funnily enough, and also because he doesn’t want to chance anything with his kidneys
-he’s got a few piercings, though
-he had his eyebrow done and his nose done, and he had one little stud on his lower lip
-he’s the house piercer and has most of his clients in and out in under twenty minutes
-he’s very talented at doing black and grey tattooing
-some people scoff at him, because he doesn’t have any tattoos but people rave about his work
-but when they see him bang out some of the most intense tattoos they’d ever seen, they gained the utmost respect for him
-talks quietly to you while you’re getting pierced or tattooed, but is generally pretty quiet

-Jack has that hipster tattoo artist style
-his throat and his chest are covered and his hands and knuckles are brightly colored
-constantly trying new local coffees from family owned shops around the tattoo shop
-always loud and talkative when he tattoos and has his clients laughing and talking back to him
-he’s got the hollows of his hips pierced and he’s got a cheeky tongue piercing and a dermal under his eye on his cheekbone
-loves doing anything neotraditonal and anything referencing movies or pop culture

-apprenticing under Mark
-is only allowed to do very simple, small pieces because he is still learning
-he’s very quiet and careful when he’s tattooing anyone outside of his own circle
-because with his own friends, if he’s shaky on his linework or shading, he knows he’ll be able to fix it for them once he’s got the practice and knowledge
-but it’s a totally different story on his clients
-the rest of the guys don’t haze him too much, but they still tease him at most opportunities

-both of her arms are spattered with different pieces from everyone at the shop
-she’s got a cute nose ring
-she and Kat are basically the receptionists, but they help the guys in between appointments to strip down their chairs and sanitize them
-constantly taking pictures of the guys and their works so that she can keep their social media updated

-always goes on food runs and drink runs
-definitely knows the best places to get the best deals
-doesn’t have too many tattoos yet, something cute on her wrist and her ankle and she’s thinking about getting the tops of her feet done
-nicely turns down Ethan when he begs to tattoo something little on her because she’s not really sure what she wants done yet
-keeps the boys in line when they rip on Ethan a little bit because she knows when that blue boi gets upset but doesn’t want to say anything
-her cat is always at the shop with her, and nobody really minds all that much because it’s not hurting anything

My Ultimate Weakness:

Cutoff Shirts….Specifically Black ones

Warning: Arm porn Ahead

The Usos

Pete Dunne


Enzo, Cass & Finn

John Cena

Dolph Ziggler

TJ Perkins

Seth Rollins

Dean Ambrose

Apollo Crews

Corey Graves

Nick Miller/Mikey Nicholls

Shane Thorne/Shane Haste

Tye Dillinger

Adam Cole

Johnny Gargano

Kenny Omega

Mark Andrews

Tommaso Ciampa

Noam Dar

Roman Reigns

Baron Corbin


The Young Bucks

Zack Ryder

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. 

“Baby, I’m hooooome.” Lin was practically singing as you heard him shut the door. Wrapping the towel around your body tightly, you smiled to yourself, calling to him.
“I’m up here, Lin!” You teased, hearing his footsteps come ever-closer. Leaning against the open doorway to your post-shower steamy bathroom, you watched the shock of black hair move into your sightline. You could see his eyes light up when he saw you, slowing his pace until he had you pinned against the doorway, his fingers curled into your hips.
“And how’s my gorgeous wife today, hmm? Naked under that towel, are we?” He mused, taking the time to plant lingering kisses to your lips, jawline, neck… A freaking tease.
“Yes, sir.” You hummed, planting a kiss to his neck, squeaking in surprise as you felt your towel ripped away. Reaching quickly for the fallen cover, you found your wrists bound- captured in Lin’s. Pinning your arms to the frame above you, you could see every expanse of muscle in his arms- the cutoff shirt supplying you with a spectacular view.
“Uh-uh, why hide a beautiful body like yours, baby? Fuckin’ gorgeous.” A filthy grin appeared on his face as you feigned shock. You knew at that point you were headed for the bedroom at lightning speed.
Whining softly, you arched out your chest, longing to feel him, to have him touch you more. His lips traveled along your chest, simply dragging his lips along the skin. His touch was barely there and soon enough you found the expanse of your skin covered in goosebumps.
“Lin- oh, Please!” You moaned, squealing when you felt his teeth nip at the bottom of your breast.
“Bedroom… Please.” You breathed, watching his eyes light up at the prospect.
Soon enough you were on the bed, wrists bound to the headboard. The rope scratched at your wrists and you wriggled under your husband’s gaze as he admired his handiwork. He stepped away from the bed, and you watched, transfixed, as he peeled away his shirt, his skin so soft and glowing in the low light. His jeans were slipped away, along with socks, leaving him in some black boxer briefs, outline evident.
Pacing to the edge of the bed, his gaze slowly inched down your body. You found yourself holding in a breath while he bit at his lip, taking in your exposed form.
“Baby… How bad do you want this?” His voice was barely above a whisper. Ice-cold fingers met your skin between your breasts, taking an eternity as they dragged down, stopping shortly below your belly button as he waited. “Well?”
“Lin, sir, I want you so badly. Just take me already.” Your voice was whiny with desperation. Wriggling your hips, you attempted to bring his fingers closer to your heated core, but to no avail.
“Mmm, I think we better wait a while, boo.” A single finger trailed down your body as you shivered. He dipped a single digit to your core, running it along your slit as you let out a slight moan. “Oh, honey- you’re absolutely soaked.” He purred, lifting the single finger to his mouth, his tongue moving to lick a stripe up the side before slipping it into his mouth, cleaning the rest off quickly.
He was a fucking sight, with the wild red hair, those devilish eyes transfixed on you. The erection he had was more noticeable than ever, straining against the fabric.
“Touch me, please.” You breathed. Your body was in a frenzy, every last nerve on end as he just smirked, running the tips of his fingers along your sensitive skin, the goosebumps rising faster than ever. The touches swirled their way around each of your breasts, one at a time until your nipples peaked.
He was so close, but nothing would bring him closer and you reveled at every touch. By the time both his hands felt their way smoothly along your sides, you were nearly ready to peak, writhing under his touch as you moaned out his name. His hands travelled to your inner thighs, the touches light as ever, teasing the skin so close to where you wanted him.
Within an instant, your legs were spread completely, shaking slightly. You could feel yourself begin to sweat, nearly ready to burst when he began purring in your ear again, leaning over the side of the bed to whisper, his hot breath adding yet another sensation to your overwhelmed body.
“Shit, Honey… You look like you reaaaaally want me now.” His hand travelled to your core, but instead of relieving any pressure, he simply cupped your heat, a large hand hovering over just where you wanted him.
“Lin-Manuel, please… I’ll do anything, just let me cum, sir, please!” You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut. Trying to grind into his palm, you were met only with frustration, his skin always a slight bit away. Your hips tried every move in the book to reach him, arching desperately. Straining your wrists against the rope, you nearly began to cry. The sexual frustration was entirely too much, and you could stand being teased any longer.
“Y/n, baby, look at me- look at me.” Lin prompted, smiling at you as you flicked your eyes open, seeing those brown eyes blown with a lust the likes of which you hadn’t seen before. Quickly, he moved his hand to plunge a single finger within you, watching a vague sense of relief wash over your face as you whined, your body nearly vibrating as it attempted to gain friction.
As soon as the relief came, it left again, Lin withdrawing his finger. Through half-lidded eyes, you could see as he stripped off his boxers, climbing to position himself atop you. He rested single forearm for support, gripping his dripping erection with the other.
You felt your thighs tremble as he guided himself to your core, running his cock along your swollen clit. Every sensitive nerve hit before he began to tease your entrance, completely turned on as you let loose beneath him, on fire with the pleasure such a simple move brought you after teasing you nearly to the edge.
His cock glided in with ease, the full length filling you completely as you wrapped your legs around his body, knowing your finish was right around the corner. As soon as he began a slow rhythm, you became a complete moaning mess beneath him, screaming his name as your orgasm hit.
You found your legs trembling so hard they dropped away from his body as he continued. His speed picked up tremendously as you felt wave after wave of pleasure roll from you, your now extra-sensitive insides tingling as he worked. Chasing his own finish, he cursed, pounding in as hard and fast as he could go as you squealed beneath him. You tried snapping the restraints, wrists struggling so desperately to release themselves just to clutch at that wildlong hair dotted with sweat.
“Oh… Fuck, y/n!” Leaving himself buried deep inside of you, you knew he released. The face you knew all too well had completely morphed, the expression of pure pleasure and satisfaction contorting his features. He was panting hard as he released inside of you, keeping still as he collapsed, falling onto your chest.
Exhausted, you lay there for awhile, sweat-slicked skin sticking together as you cooled down, recovering. Through the haze in your mind, you managed to have a revelation, nearly screaming at the thought. You felt your heart kick up speed as your mind reeled.
“Lin! Lin! Get up!” Your voice was anxious as you attempted to sit up, wiggling on the soaked sheets. Snapped out of his daze, Lin jumped up, finally pulling out and rolling onto the floor with a dull thud, reaching around for his underwear.
“What is it?” His voice was groggy, as if he was unable to hide his confusion about your sudden alertness.
“Lin…” You were breathing shakily, pulling your weak knees beneath you to prop yourself up a bit. “Lin… I- I stopped taking my birth control a month ago and I know you didn’t use a condom just now.”
His eyes grew only a bit large as he stared up at you, jaw only going slightly slack as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I- well, I could go get a pill-” he stuttered, shaking his head before you cut him off.
“I’m ready, Lin. I’m finally ready… And if this doesn’t work out, we’ll try again.” You breathed shakily, letting out a nervous laugh. Biting your lip softly, you locked eyes with him, the both of you nearly amazed by the idea.
“I’m ready.” He grinned, leaning up from the floor to kiss you tenderly before realizing you were still tied up. Quickly undoing the knots, he wasted no time in pulling you to your feet, holding you close.
“We can do this. We can do this… And have fun trying.” He murmured softly, letting out a little huff of laughter as he planted sweet kisses to your hairline. “But first- another shower.”

Landslide: Part Two


Dayton White (Logan Lucky) x Reader

When a tragic accident happens in the heart of your hometown - you’re forced to go back to the countryside you’d sworn to forget. In the midst of your world turning upside down you find yourself in a state of panic when the familiar face returns in your life, Dayton White. From the time you were young he was labeled in your mind as the man who got under your skin, with the past brimming to the surface - will you be able to fight off the landslide of love?

Word count: 4,142

Notes: Cursing, tension.

Let me know what you think! :) also my lady parts may have cried when I first saw this in the trailer

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Creepypasta #1299: Wanna See Me Take It All Off?

Length: Long

Some boring backstory about me: I’m a 19 year old guy in my first year at college, a CompSci major. I’ve never posted a story myself before because as you’ll be able to tell, I can’t write for shit. Pretty active in the comments though. You’d know my username if I told you it. Maybe. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and I’m a nobody.

That’s how I feel a lot of the time; a nobody. I’ve had precisely one girlfriend, in freshman year of high school. It lasted all of three months. We never got past second base. I work at a chain store where I’m just a faceless shelf-stacker drone in a blue waistcoat. At college I have friends, sure, but I’m kinda like the tag-along to an existing friendship group of guys, and boy don’t I know it. They’re welcoming, sure, they’re really nice to me, but it’s painfully obvious that I’m not really one of them, y’know? I think they assume I have other friends outside of their group, but well, offline anyway, I don’t.

When I came to college, I wanted to present myself as this cool kid, a smooth and seductive ladies’ man who was a little dark and mysterious. I know, I know, I sound like a pipe dream douche. And I am. Was. The fact I can barely talk to girls without stammering and making an ass of myself kinda put paid to my plans. Hey, at least I acknowledge it now.

My buddies joke that I’m just sexually frustrated and need to get laid, but it isn’t that, honestly. At least, not just that. I mean sure, I do want to, but I dunno, I’m a dreamer and a hopeless romantic I guess, I want to meet a girl who’s like my best friend, but we also get up to bedroom stuff. Y’know? Someone I can be equally comfortable nerding out over gunpla with as I can, well. You get it.

So yeah, I’m lonely. Which maybe explains why I paid more attention than I should’ve when I got a message on here with the subject ‘Come flirt in my PMs ;)’. The username was (redacted), someone I’d never seen around here before so before clicking I assumed they were a spam-bot or something. Not so. They’d posted a bunch of comments and even a couple stories over the months, just the usual stuff. So I read the PM.

‘Hey, seen you round (my username), you make me laugh. Tbh I’m kinda hot for you.’

I wrote back: ‘Haha, orly?You a chick? Kinda only into chicks.’

Her: ‘Haha, yeah, don’t worry (my actual name).’

Now, as much as I crave female attention, I kiiiinda did want to know what I was getting myself in for.

Me: ‘Prove it ;)’

She replied with an imgur link to a picture of a chick who I could only describe as smoking hot. Petite, short dark hair, a cute cutoff shirt, black denim cutoff shorts, converse…

Me: ‘Wow. How’d I know that’s really you tho? ;)’

She replied again, this time with a picture of herself doing the AMA thing people do, holding up a sign saying the date and time and stuff so I knew the photo was taken just then. She had different clothes on, but it was most definitely her.

Me: ‘u kno what I look like?’ - I have a Twitter and an Instagram that aren’t too hard to find, so it wouldn’t be weird if she did.

Her: ‘Yeah. ;) You’re a cutie.’

Me (blushing furiously IRL): ‘So uh, you said something about flirting in your PMs? ;)’

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amayzing-mayzie  asked:

newsie christmas oneshot where you're race's sister and he takes you into brooklyn for the holiday, not knowing you're dating spot?

“So, (y/n), ya been talking Brooklyn before?” Race asks, smiling down  at you.

Many times, you think, smiling tof yourself at the thought. But you only respond with: “A couple of times.” As cold wind blows across the Brooklyn bridge, and you grasp your brother’s arm for warmth. “So what are we doing today? How’d you get off work?”

Race grins. “It’s a surprise. But I will say it’s tasty. And all of da boys agreed you needed this for your Christmas gift.”

You smile to yourself. “I love the boys.”

“They love ya too.”

The two of you walk in silence the last half of the bridge, simply enjoying each other’s company and the warmth that your linked arms bring despite the cold day. But the second you step off of the bridge, everything goes wrong.

A red blur flies in out of the corner of your eye, and suddenly you find yourself spinning away from Race and onto a sheet of ice that immediately sends you onto the ground. The rough ice scrapes your hands, and you look up to see a burly boy dressed in a red cutoff shirt despite the cold and dark gray fingerless gloves pinning your brother to a lamppost.

“Is dere a reason you had your hands on my goil, Racer?” your boyfriend growls.

“Spot!” you yell, pushing yourself up and fixing your dress when you do. “Let him go, you-”

“What are you talking about ‘your girl’, Conlon?” Race growls, blue eyes blazing with fury. You give him a look that says “not helping”, but he ignores you.

Spot leans closer into Race’s face. “You even look at her again, I swear I’ll-”

Stepping forward, you place your hands on Spot’s chest and shove him off of your brother. “Enough!” He goes back in to get back on Race, but you stop him again by putting your hands on his chest. “He’s my brother!”

Spot finally pulls his eyes away from Race to meet yours. “Your brother?” You nod.

“(y/n),” Race starts, stepping forward closer to you, glaring at Spot, “how do you know Brooklyn here?”

You sigh to yourself and move your hands off of Spot’s chest. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Race’s jaw drops, blue eyes widening in shock. “Your what?! When did this happen?”

“About a month ago.” Race continues to glare at Spot, who stares back calmly. Your heart sinks. “Oh please tell me this isn’t one of those newsboy rivalries.”

Race shakes his head. “Na, Manhattan and Brooklyn are good. I’m just not sure ‘bout dis.”

Yout turn to Spot. “We still on for tonight?”

He nods and smiles softly down at you-the smile he only reserves for you. “Yeah.”

You nod and kiss his cheek softly. “See you then.” You turn back to Race and take his arm. “We, however, are going to finish my Christmas present day.” Your brother trails behind you, and you know he has more questions, but you’d rather answer them without the tension that comes with the two newsboys together.

“So how’d you two get together?”

You sip your mug of peppermint hot cocoa. You were expecting the question, but still didn’t want family tension the week before Christmas. “He saved me from some gangsters the first time I came to Brooklyn, and walked me home after.”

Race’s eyes are wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You give him a pointed look. “Because I knew you’d react how you did today.” He goes to speak, but you hold up a hand. “ and I’m not breaking up with him. He’s good to me, and he makes me happy in a way that a brother and his friends can’t.”

Race smiles sadly but nods. “ I don’t want you to break up with him. I’m just glad your happy, and deep down, I know Spot’s a good guy.”

You smile and reach across the table to squeeze your brother’s hand. “You know I love you, right?”

Race smiles. “I love ya too, little sis.”

A Girl Like You - Theo Raeken Imagine

Author’s Note: This is not a request. This is something I came up with on my own. Easton Corbin released a new single and I’m obsessed with it. I had it on repeat and eventually I had an idea for a Theo imagine for it. I hope y’all enjoy what I came up with. 

I do not own the lyrics to the song. All rights go to Easton Corbin.

Word Count: 1,365

Listen to this song: “A Girl Like You” by Easton Corbin

My Teen Wolf Master List

Originally posted by sterek-hale-obrosey

It was a typical Saturday night at Hillbilly’s in Nashville. Almost everyone in town was at the bar with a cold beer in their hand or line dancing on the dance floor as the live band played a little out of tune. Theo’s eyes scanned the crowded bar and noticed a guy trying too hard to get a girl’s attention, a couple of sleazy guys who had no chance of going home with any of the girls tonight, and a lot of friends and couples having a good time. He turned around and saw Y/N standing by the window, talking on the phone with one finger in her ear, trying to drown out the music. A smile tugged his lips as the neon light in the windowpane glowed and showed off all of his favorite features of hers. He knew he was lucky. There wasn’t a guy in this bar that had a girl like her.

Theo moved to Nashville shortly after graduation. He needed to escape the town where everyone knew the mistakes he made. Although it took a while for his friends to forgive him and gain his trust back, he needed to start somewhere completely new and fresh. Originally, he wasn’t planning on staying in Nashville. It was actually just a stop he made while traveling around the country to see what place felt right for him. The night he met Y/N was the night he knew he was meant to stay in Nashville.

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Opposites Attract

My brain was working again and I thought about fresh-out-of-college Lance meeting bad-boy Keith after he moves into a new apartment and keeps losing his cat only for Keith to find and these happened:

  • Lance moves into a new apartment complex after getting a job out of town thanks to his college degree
  • It’s not the most expensive place, but it’s close to his work and seems pretty save
  • His neighbors are nice, welcoming him and helping him carry boxes from his car to his room
  • Everything is going wonderfully, and his cat, Blue, seems to be settling in nicely
  • He has a small balcony over a quiet street that he keep a few plants on
  • Sometimes Blue will chill out there too whenever the weather is nice
  • Which is odd since Blue isn’t much of an outdoor cat
  • One day Lance comes home to find Blue missing
  • He isn’t too worried until it gets to be later in the evening and he has looked under every piece of furniture he owns and there is no sign of that cat
  • Then Lance hears a knock at his door and answers it
  • There’s a man
  • A man holding his cat
  • A man with dark, unkempt hair and tattoos and piercings and wearing ripped jeans and combat boots, holding his cat
    • “Uh… is this yours?”
    • “Is what mine?”
    • “… the cat?”
  • Lance apologizes for his cat and takes it back, thanking the mystery man for finding her
  • He nods and walks down the hallways towards the elevator
  • Lance closes the door and curses under his breath bc DAMN that guy was HOT he probably just made a fool out of himself
  • Lance tries to keep an eye on Blue, but she escapes almost every other week for what feels like months and hot punk dude brings her back
  • Lance has no idea who this guy is or where he lives or why Blue visits him so often
  • It isn’t until one day Lance is watering his plants that he sees a familiar face across the street
  • Punk dude is leaning against the side of the garage of the mechanic shop, chewing bubble gum and watching Lance water his plants
  • He has ripped jeans and boots on, a greasy rag tucked in his pocket and a cutoff shirt that showed his toned arms and intricate tattoos
  • Once their eyes meet, he smirks and blows Lance a kiss with a wink
  • Lance’s face turns bright red and quickly goes back instead bc omfg that guy is hot
  • Lance goes to visit Hunk at the cafe he owns and complains about that guy
    • “He’s such an asshole!”
    • You’ve never had a real conversation with him…”
    • Just chewing his gum with his tight jeans and messy hair and muscles!”
  • The next time this guy comes back with Lance’s cat, he has on a v-neck that looks a size too small and a studded leather jacket
  • He leans against Lance’s doorframe and bites his lip and looks Lance up and down
    • “Hey, I’m Keith.  I noticed that you-”
    • “Hi!I’mLance!It’snicemeeting!Bye!”
  • Lance slams the door in this guys face and slides down the door until he sitting on the floor
  • He then realizes that he not only likes his Keith guy, he’s so head-over-heels in love with him

That’s all I have for now, or at least what I can put into short phrases.  I am considering making this into a full fic, which is probably a poor choice considering I have too many started.  Depending on how quickly I get it written, I may or may not continue this list of HCs.  We shall see.


a/n: basically there is never enough fratboy!5sos so here I am contributing to this movement. i’m trying to get back into writing so feedback is highly appreciated to help me improve and give you the stories you guys want to read!  let me know if you want more of this because I’m thinking of making it a series…anyways enjoy

requested: no
word count: 3,802

Alpha Kappa Psi. You’d only been on the college campus for a few days now, but you’d already heard the name being tossed around by just about everybody you’d met. They were all talking about who was going to the fraternity’s “kick off the school year, goodbye summer!” party on Sunday. Even your roommate Mae was talking about it, how excited she was to finally meet some cute fraternity boys. According to those you’d talked to, Alpha Kappa Psi was not only well known for being home to some of the most competitive business majors at the university, it was also notorious for throwing the best parties.

Still, you were hesitant to go. It’s not that parties weren’t your thing. It’s just that, the idea of showing up to your first day of classes tired or potentially hungover was not the most appealing. And you didn’t really fancy the idea of grinding up against drunk, horny frat boys all night. Not to be pre-judgemental but they didn’t seem like the most respecting of types. You’d have to be careful.

However, after some careful persuasion on behalf of your roommate, you found yourself walking up the the front door of a very large, very daunting house that particular Sunday night. The party was already in full swing by the time you and Mae arrived. People were standing outside on the wrap around porch, drinking beer out of plastic cups, a few people were even passed out on the front lawn already. Music was blaring through the open windows and doors, the bass nearly making the house shake. Carefully stepping around a couple of boys sitting on the front steps, you managed to make it inside.

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Sanver Week Day 2: Nerd Girlfriends

In which Maggie Sawyers is a gigantic, smol, squishy nerd and Alex fucking loves it.

Alex had gotten hints of it before. She saw it in the way Maggie’s brow creased in concentration during her faceoffs with Winn during the videogame portion of Game Night. She saw it when she overheard Maggie’s debates with Winn over the abilities of various superheroes, real and fictional. And it didn’t escape Alex’s notice that the sci-fi section of Maggie’s movie collection was the largest and the only genre in alphabetical order.

It was fairly obvious that Alex Danvers’ girlfriend was a huge nerd.

But this… This was a whole different level.

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