full floor

The librarian leans in close. “Books… unavailable to the average citizen, warlock? I believe I can help you.” She leads you through winding halls until you come to a tiny doorway. Surreptitiously, she slips a small key into the lock and motions you in. Torches flicker, and as your eyes adjust to the light, you see that the room is full floor-to-cieling with… gnome erotica.

OC Challenge

Draw your OC:

1. Running
2. With a bloody nose
3. With a different skin tone
4. In a vehicle
5. With a dragon ( if they are already a dragon, with a human)
6. In a family portrait
7. In the 20’s
8. In the 50’s
9. In the 70’s
10. As an Alien ( if already alien, as a human)
11. With supernatural Powers
12. With horns
13. With their bad habit
14. Post-Apocalyptic
15. As your favorite book character
16. As their favorite book character
17. With a tattoo
18. On a rainy day
19. Dancing
20. With their sexuality flag
21. In a Hogwarts AU
22. In a Demigod AU
23. Lying on the floor (full body)
24. In Venetian carnival clothing
25. From an unusual angle
26. Posessed by a demon
27. In the clothes you’re wearing right now
28. Drinking their favorite drink
29. High Fiving their friend
30. Taking a selfie with you

Good luck with the challenge!

Barriscowest playing truth or dare
Iris: Truth or dare, Cisco
Cisco: Dare
Iris: Order me a pizza
Cisco: … Truth or dare, Barry?
Barry: Dare???
Cisco: Pay for the pizza
Barry:… Truth or dare, Iris?
Iris: Truth. Nice try though, honey.
Barry: *grumbles to himself as he brings out his wallet* 

based off this post.

Break Down

So here is a langsty idea: Lance finally breaking down but at something small 


-


Lance sits, cross-legged opposite of Blue. He was holding a paintbrush dipped in polish to her claws.

He diy’ed some polish and made it to be highly resistant to damage. Swords? Lasers? Bullets? Not a crack in sight. It was tougher than nails.

“If only it could help with my self esteem right, Blue?” She raises a mental eyebrow, unimpressed by the joke. He chuckles.

“A few more strokes…”

“…and…we are… done.

Lance leans back grinning as he admires his work. Nicely done. Sky blue was definitely her colour. Blue thrums in agreement.

Lance had waltzed into her hangar a few hours ago declaring that it was spa day. He had spent it repairing, cleaning, and buffing out the dents in Blue.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. They would usually do this every once a week or after a mission that leaves her badly wrecked.

He does it with joy. He does it remembering the days on Earth cleaning the heck out of his house with his family.

But today he was doing it as a distraction.

Blue knows.

“You are sad.”

A loud metal clang echoes throughout the room. Lance winces.

He was so caught off guard by the blunt statement that he dropped the metal lid used cover the container full of paint.

The floor was blue.

Why can’t you do anything right?’

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath. Everything building up from the past week spilled over at the minor inconvenience.

`Seventh Wheel.’

Fuck,” A tear threatened to fall, prickling at the corner of his eye. This wasn’t suppose to be a big deal. This wasn’t suppose to set him off. The lid rolled away from his grasp as he tried to pick it up.

‘You should be more like Keith.”

FUCK,” He gave up chasing the lid, choosing to slam his leg into the metal can and it flew into the air and across the room.

He could almost catch a glimpse of the bright sky back on Earth. It fell back down, wet against his face like rain.

The paint stung.

“Fuck.”

Every breathy gasp held frustration. He repeats the word over and over until the it was strange on his lips. He basked in the bittersweet relief it gave him.

“Lance,” something in Blue`s voice grounded him, A soothing hum reaches out, washing over him through the bond. “Breath.”

He stops.

Inhale. Exhale.

His pulse evens out

Lance paused for a good few ticks before proceeding to lie flat on his back on the floor. The only thing that reached his ears were the ocean waves hitting against rocks through their bond. He stayed like that for awhile; staring puffy eyed at the white ceiling. 

He shifts his body to the right, facing the lion.

“I deserve to die.”

Knitworthy

Prompt/Summary: A little something for all of my knitters out there (and crocheters)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff in a knit hat

Word Count: 1347

Author’s Note:

Originally posted by 13roots

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college gothic, pt. 2
  • there is a Starbucks on campus. you go there enough to have the employees’ names memorized, but there seems to be new people each time you go. this is your third venti latte of the day. you hand the cashier your punch card. they rip a new star-shaped hole with their nails. when you look at their name tag to thank them, all you see are chalk paint scribbles. it doesn’t matter. there’ll be someone new by the time you return in an hour.
  • you spend every night on the fourth floor of the library. there is only one room on that floor, full of windows. the rest of the floor is kept behind locked doors that claim to be “SPECIAL COLLECTIONS.” it is always just on the cusp of the sunset when you arrive to the fourth floor, and the sky darkens to pitch-black within minutes. you check your watch. it’s 3pm. the lights of the campus twinkle back at you. you drink your venti latte.
  • did you know you have an essay due tomorrow? you sit down to work on it. as you open your word document, a web browser video suddenly opens instead. you click it closed. it opens again. this time, it’s playing a new episode of House of Cards on Netflix. you’ve never seen this episode. you click it closed an hour later. did you know you have an essay due in an hour? you open your word document. 
  • “The student center will be under renovation for a while,” the chancellor announced with a close-lipped smile. how long? you asked. “Oh, you know.” they offered a vague hand waggle. “Probably a few months. Maybe a year? We’ll just have to wait and see.” they direct you to the architectural firm that will be handling the project. when you hunt down the building, a trio of dogs growl at you from behind a 6 foot fence. barbed wire sparkles like frost. all of the lights in the building are off, and grass grows between the cracks in the parking lot. you make a u-turn and head back to campus.
  • your bio lecture has 143 students in it, your teacher announced on the first day of class. when she uses the iClickers to take roll, you always choose B. there are 70 students in the class, your teacher announced a week later. only 35 by midterms. now it’s finals week. you can only see one other student out of the corner of your eye. there is something hungry about him. you don’t know if you’ll be able to press B again, next week.
Apartment AUs
  • “haha sorry for knocking at your door at like 6 in the morning on a Saturday but i’ve got a job interview in less than an hour but you happen to be right next door and my shower is broken so could i please use yours i smell like death” au
  • “so hey i heard the opening to my favorite show that i haven’t seen in forever playing somewhere in the building and i tracked it to you so can i watch it with you or what” au
  • “my cat ran in here at 3 in the morning and i’m really sorry he made himself comfortable on your face while you were sleeping but hey i guess thats what you get for leaving the door kinda open” au
  • “i was singing one of the cheesy duets from a Disney movie and i guess you heard it bc ur singing the other part so we’re both going with it ok cool” au
  • “you always ask me for book suggestions for some reason so one day i just grab ur hand and drag you to the library and we kind of have this thing of going to the library together every week from then on” au
  • “i accidentally broke into ur apartment bc i was hella tired this morning and i swear it was an accident please don’t call the police” au
  • “oh my god can you please not scream so loudly when you get mail like jeez you do that every day- wait is that a limited edition figurine lemme see” au
  • “ok so my dumb friends bet $2 that i wouldn’t ask you out and get you to say yes but i’m really desparate for some M&Ms from the vending machine downstairs and ur actually really cute so please take pity on my poor soul” au
  • “so its 1 a.m. and you’re prancing around my floor in full out cosplay and singing my favorite anime theme song in Japanese and I want in” au
  • “i kNEW YOU WERE THE ONE STEALING MY NEWSPAPERS EVERY DAY HAH I FINALLY CAUGHT YOU- oh man wait are you crying crap wait i’m so sorry please i’ll let you take all of my newspaper for the rest of our lives if you please please stop crying” au
• “I’m really sorry you had to see me like this stranger but would you mind helping me out of this trash can” AU
Big Fucking Mess

Everything is just turning into a big fucking mess for Harry and Y/N. Things were supposed to be complication free, right?

This was requested: Can we have a FWB blurb? plot twist your a virgin and just want a FWB fling with harry and soon you two developed feelings for each other. 

It will also most definitely have a part two up soon-ish (: 

My Masterlist

   Drunk. You were incredibly drunk. The world was spinning but in that nice, floaty way that made you smile at everything. Harry wasn’t too far behind you, his words slurring and his head resting on your shoulder every few minutes or so. 

   The bride and groom had already shared their slow dance together, and now the dance floor was full of people grinding and laughing loudly. You watched as everyone squeezed together onto the small space. Usually, you would be out there bumping and grinding like the rest of your friends, celebrating the brand new bride and groom to the fullest. Tonight, for some reason, you were perfectly, drunkenly content with sitting next to Harry in the large booth that was now abandoned by everyone except for the two of you. 

   You looked over to see him watching the people dancing as well. His green eyes were glazed over, and there was a smile at the corner of his lips. You poked the dimple that was subtly showing and he turned his gaze to you. 

Keep reading

Playboy

Originally posted by y-ta

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Johnny Seo x Reader

Word Count: 3,293 words

Summary: Johnny gets on your nerves. Of course, this makes Johnny want you even more.

You weren’t attracted to Johnny by any means. He disgusted you. He was a playboy, flirting with every girl he saw. You constantly saw him on campus, a new girl around his arm each time. You lived in the same dorm as him but if you lived on the same floor as the guys, you were sure you’d see a new girl leaving his room every other morning. Thankfully, you lived on the second floor.

It wasn’t that Johnny was ugly because he wasn’t. In fact, he was rather good looking. However, his personality was too much for you. He could be so cocky and there was nothing that you hated more than a man with a huge ego. He had the looks, the grades, and more. He could play the piano, too. But none of that mattered to you. He annoyed you. His very presence annoyed you.

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anonymous asked:

"Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”


“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

You look to your left and find Harry, one hand holding a glass, other hand tucked into the pockets of a suit. You don’t doubt it’s expensive, but you’re surprised to see it’s a solid color. His hair has grown since the last time you saw him and his face has thinned, sharpening the line of his jaw. There’s a bit of stubble spotting his upper lip and chin. He was never very good at growing it out.

“Sure,” you ascent with a quick skip of your heart, giving him a soft nod. He lowers himself into the chair beside you and sets his glass on the table, eyes roaming the room.

The place is decorated extravagantly, lights lining a full dance floor. It’s Niall’s birthday party, and apparently more people have showed than he expected. It’s true: every other table is full, and the extra people are either occupying the dance floor or hovering around the sides of the room.

“Yeh look nice,” Harry compliments, wiping his palms down the thighs of his pants.

“Thanks.”

“Yeh always look nice, though.”

A small smile finds its way onto your lips. He’s his ever-charming self. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard him speak and his voice still warms your insides.

Harry is your ex. The relationship was short, only a few months, but it was fast and happy and full of passion. You felt like you could map out his soul by the end of it. Things don’t always work out, though. The breakup was messy. It’s been nearly a year since that last fight you had, the one that brought everything to a halt. And now here he is, looking devilishly handsome and exuding confidence.

“You don’t look too bad, yourself. Solid colors suit you.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs. He looks relaxed, and you’re surprised to find you feel comfortable, like you never left his flat in a flurry of tears. Like you never screamed at him until your throat felt like sandpaper and he never spit nasty words at you. This is just like before everything collapsed.

“Don’ like the pa'erns, then?”

“Some of them, not all.”

“Ouch.” He flashes you that dimpled grin, the one that makes his eyes crinkle and your knees weaken. It’s all so simple, the way the two of you fit together. Conversation flows without effort, but there’s a reason you split up.

“It’s not like you’ll take my thoughts into consideration, anyway.”

Harry’s smile slowly fades from his face as he turns back to look out on the dance floor. Niall has had a few too many drinks and he’s making a fool of himself in front of a new girl he’s seeing. You can recall times when Harry was just a bit too tipsy, screaming lyrics to his favorite songs and dancing a little too enthusiastically. Memories like that used to make you feel like your insides were being shredded, but now it makes you choke down a giggle. You’ve healed.

“Listen, Y/N-”

He doesn’t get to continue as a presence appears at your shoulder. You turn your head to smile and then turn back to Harry.

“Harry, this is my boyfriend, Jack. Jack, this is Harry.”

Harry just stares up at him for a moment before rising from his seat to shake his hand.

“Hullo.”

“You’re Harry?” Jack asks, giving his hand a firm shake. “Y/N’s talked a lot about you. Plays your music all the time, too.”

You smile bashfully, twisting your fingers together in your lap. Harry glances down at you with interested eyes.

“Tha’ right?”

“Yeah. You’re album’s amazing, man.”

“Thank you,” he says with a heavy nod at Jack. “Better get goin’.” Harry leans down in front of you and presses a kiss to your cheek that makes your skin tingle. It’s a bit too long before he pulls away and lifts his glass from the table.

“Cheers.” He raises his glass at the two of you and then drains the contents, setting the empty glass back down and shoving his hands back into his pockets as he walks away. His heart is heavy. On one hand, he’s glad to see you happy. On the other hand, it’s torturous to know you’re not still as broken as he is. It’s unfair.

You watch Harry as he weaves his way through the room toward the exit. Jack sits down beside you and presses a gentle kiss to your temple.

“He’s a quiet guy,” he comments.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Your cheek still feels the pressure of his lips and your hand burns from where his fingers brushed your skin. His cologne lingers in the air around you. You feel a pang in your chest. Maybe you’re not as healed as you thought. There’s a brief moment where you think you might give it all up, everything you’ve done or accomplished in the past year, just to be back with him. To feel his arms around you at night, to be the one that makes his eyes dance with humor at your stupid jokes, to smooth out the crease between his brows when he’s stressed. But that chapter is over.

I can’t believe Stephanie Cordato Patrick accidentally ended up at a sketchy Halloween rave party in an abandoned warehouse without a floor.

I am incredibly interested in how she ended up there, especially considering she said you had to pay some guy on a street corner for a map.

queen | m

Originally posted by mvssmedia


Originally posted by bbcblackjack

◇ A queen must always prepared to do anything she needed to do in order to keep her kingdom thriving and growing. Anything.

◇ Himchan x reader x Yongguk

◇ plussized!reader

◇ mafia!au / crime!au ◇ requested by @smutfictionaddicted / @writings-by-cl; Hey Ali, so glad your requests are open! Can I please request some Himcham and/or Yongguk (BAP) smut (can have other story genres and any plot you want)? If possible (optional) could the OC be plus size (don’t need to, tho)? I’ll understand if you won’t accept this request, it’s kind of specific… Thanks so much, have a lovely day/night! Love, CL 💋 (from @smutfictionaddicted) PS: love your blog so much!

◇ aaaaaaaaaaa omg thank you for requesting bc im such a big fan and youre so cute im???? This was an honour tbh i hope i did this request justice… also, so no one’s confused; basically people think the mayor rules the whole city but the mayor and his people are corrupt and basically the whole city belongs to reader, himchan and yongguk — he only controls a tiny area — but no one knows.

•••

You woke up early, surrounded by lavish Egyptian cotton sheets and the scent of fresh lavender. The sun was high in the sky, the sound of birds chirping managing to reach you through your French balcony doors on the 98th floor of the most prestigious apartment block in the whole city.

The First Sector was only beginning to wake at the time, but already the streets were beginning to fill with people and taxis. Not as much as the central city, you were sure, because work never full started around here until 9.

A fluffy bathrobe was slipped over your full figure, the marble floors cold against your perfectly manicured toes as you patter to the bathroom and begin to fill a bath of crystal water and pearlescent bubbles. You were glad to have woken earlier than you usually did; maybe you’d have time for a walk or a coffee shop breakfast before you were rushed to work. It would be nice to relax today — especially because of the events that were to take place tonight.

The only sound heard throughout your apartment is the slump of your bathrobe into a fluffy heap on the floor, looking not unlike the cotton ball clouds outside your window. Carefully, you place one leg into the bath to test the water, and seeing as the temperature was just right, you fully submerge yourself in the warm water, letting your eyes flutter shut in relaxation.

Only a minute later does the silence get stiffling, and you reach a hand over to the wall to search for a song in the built in speaker system. Your breath comes out in a satisfied sigh as one of your favorites begins to play, the hum of violins and tinkering of piano letting your worries trickle from your brain.

•••

Autumn had always been your favourite season. Whether it was fashion-wise, or simply the atmosphere (there was always an air of excitement, and paired with the sunset shades of leaves falling from the trees and the permanent smell of bonfires in the air, it always calmed the most negative of moods), you didn’t know.

You inhale deeply, burrowing your hands deeper into the pockets of your coat. Your breath forms a swirling cloud of heat in front of you, and the child in you continues to exhale heavily to create more. The First Sector is almost fully functioning by now; there are cars everywhere and people bustling on the streets, all dressed fashionably as they pass between designer store to designer store.

You enter a Starbucks on the main street, the comforting smell of coffee and sugar invading your nose and almost instantly making you happier. It had been a while since you had had enough time to yourself to actually sit in a cafè and have a cappuccino or a slice of cake. It was all worth it though, you guess, watching as a small child and his mother walk in, the child smiling brightly and looking over the delicious cases of dessert displayed in front of him. The people deserved it.

You sigh, turning your head and peering out the window beside your table. Passed the main road sat the park, and from your seat you could see the playground; a shock of blues, reds and greens in an orangey-brown pool of colour. A child runs from the end of the slide to the start again, and even from where you were positioned you could see the joyful grin on her face.

She laughs as she slides down the slide once again, but instead of running once again to the beginning, she runs into the arms of a man who you can only guess is her father. She’s swung around, and then hugged tightly before she’s placed on the ground again.

What would it be like, you wonder in amusement, wistfulness creeping up on the tone of the voice in your head, to be so blissfully ignorant? To spend your days living in the best part of the city with the only responsibilities being paying rent and putting food on the table?

With a tired sigh, you turn your gaze from the window and back to the coffee in front of you. Thinking like that is dangerous in your line of work — thinking like that has gotten people killed.

But, you add quietly, as if someone could hear your thoughts, if only they knew about the dirty work that was put towards keeping their home squeaky clean.

•••

The walk to your workplace is shorter than you’d like, but you figure it’s because you’re well aware that the freedom you’d experienced this morning was never going to reappear any time soon.

Your building is on the main street of the First Sector; situated between a bank and the main road, made of glass and metal that formed a modern yet elegant frame. You operated under the cover of a shell company called Boulevard, and to anyone who wasn’t well informed, they would think that the building belonged to a company that specialised in insurance.

Couldn’t be further from the truth, really.

When you enter the building you’re eternally grateful to have woken up early and to have been able to go and get a breath of fresh air; as soon as you enter you hole yourself up in your study and immerse yourself in the numerous papers and documents that needed looking over.

Your workload was increasing with every day, and only because of one decision. You ruled the First Sector, one of the four sectors of the city. The Mayor that had been elected by the people — being the more politically powerful of all 4 rulers — had decided to decrease your territory — for what, you had no idea, but it seemed to give people the idea that you must be too weak to control the large area you controlled. This just happened to be the sole reason for the event taking place tonight.

It was a pity that most people were unaware of your power. Maybe then, they wouldn’t be so stupid and get themselves killed.

It was exactly 3PM when one of your workers entered, dressed in suit and tie, as per usual. He stands in front of your desk, hands behind his back and eyes trained above you. He, like almost every person you employed, had learned how to respect you — you made every person you encountered aware of the power you held and the limits you would go to.

“Permission to take out Secretary Zhang, mistress.”

You inhale slowly, running his words over in your head. In a matter of seconds, you went over every consequence and award the killing of the Mayor’s secretary would present. This was your job — very few people could make the decisions you make and live to tell the tale.

On one hand, the Mayor’s secretary was the most conniving, devilish, twisting woman you’d come across this far into your life. She was slowly yet surely worming her way into the Mayor’s head, and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was really her calling the shots.

On the other hand, the Mayor was infatuated with her. Despite the fact that he was married, it was obvious that his relationship with his secretary wasn’t strictly platonic, and with the recent turn of events, her death would immediately be linked to you. But you take into account that the Mayor is more frightened of you than not, and that his personality is weak and easily persuaded.

“Accepted, and with pleasure,” you finally say, a smile tugging at your features. “And do be quick, would you?”

He bows his head. “Yes, mistress.”

And just like that, the decision is made and he’s gone. At least you’ve gotten Secretary Zhang out of your hair. You feel slightly more at ease as you go back to looking through documents and accepting or denying the requests of every worker that comes to see you.

Drug exchange, 3:37 today at Avensbrooke Burrow.

Intercept and arrest every soul at the scene. Deliver the produce to Yongguk — tell him to consider it a… gift. A gift towards upholding the peace.

Multiple stocks of arms and ammunition have been found, mistress.

Keep half. The other half goes to Himchan. Tell him that he doesn’t owe me this time, would you?

You only pull yourself away from your work when the sky begins to dim, fading from its bright, cerulean blue to an inky indigo, illuminated by the white windows and street lamps of light. The clock above your door reads 7:30, and you realise with a start that you have to get ready for the gala tonight.

It was a gala auction, technically. The richest people in the country would be coming from near and far to gamble their money for antiques and precious items — but of course, that was only the cover up. The gala auction was taking place, of course, but the most important and suspenseful event of the night happened behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths.

So you pack up from the night, assigning some paperwork to a passing employee and making your way to your home again.

When you return home you’re immediately greeted by your maid-of-sorts; her name is Chaeyoung, and she’s the same age as you, and the only reason you hired her was because you’d seen her fashion sketches and she needed to get into college. She never really cleaned or cooked — even though, technically, that was her job — but she had become more than a maid to you, and you would happily call her your sister if need be.

“Go, go!” She shooed you into your room, pulling earrings and chokers out to accompany the dress laid out on your bed, “Did you have a bath today? Oh, of course you did, I can smell those fancy bath oils on you—”

You barely have time to breath properly before she’s shoving the dress into your arms, gesturing for you to slip it on while she finds you some shoes.

A flurry of outfit changes and an hour later, you’re in your completed attire; a sleek, red, sweetheart-neckline dress that reveals just a sliver of your skin through the slit on its side, gliding over the soft curves of your stomach and sides; a pair of black pumps with high, chunky heels; a golden choker embellished with diamonds and earrings to match. Your hair is pulled up out of your face, and the makeup is kept minimal. You didn’t need much to blow people away.

“You’re not gonna take anything?” Chaeyoung frowns as you slip your phone into the black clutch in your hand. “What, no knife? No gun? Not even pepper spray?”

“I don’t need weapons,” you answer with a sigh as you stand, texting your chauffeur to bring your car around the front. “I always have people watching, Chae. You should know that by now — saves me from getting my hands dirty.”

“But still—”

“I’ll be fine,” you smile gently, patting her head comfortingly. She walks with you to the door, a pout on her face. “You can stay the night, if you want — I’ll be back pretty late.”

She only nods, and you shoot her one last smile before you’re out the door, taking the elevator down to the sumptuous foyer and strutting out like you owned the place — which, coincidentally, you did. You didn’t offer the bell boy and the receptionist more than a delicate smirk; you were getting into character.

Your chauffeur greets you with a small nod, opening the door to the black Jaguar XJ and waiting for you to slip in before he shuts the door gracefully, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car up.

The journey to the National Museum was smooth and quiet. Luckily, the meeting would take place in the First Sector, which calmed your nerves the tiniest bit — you would be familiar with your surroundings, and that made you even more compelling than usual.

You stared out the window as you were driven, taking in the empire that you built from the ground up. You remembered when this was the most run-down area of the whole city; but now, the buildings were tall and modern, lit by sparkling lights. The streets were clean and still very much busy, even at this time. And to think, you chuckle, the Mayor is trying to take that away from me. Over your dead body.

By the time you pull up outside the museum, you’re fully in character and prepared to do what you have to do. The chauffeur opens your door and waits patiently as you step outside, rolling your shoulders back and taking in the tall building before you. Numerous people, all dressed as highly as you are, are entering the building, some loitering outside to be caught by the paparazzi. You don’t bother with them.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” You exhale, before you begin to walk up the front steps of the museum.

•••

The soft sound of classical music plays from the orchestra positioned beside the auction stage. It’s a lavish affair; waiters floating between the crowds with golden trays of white wine and champagne, the richest, most important people conversing between themselves, fake laughs and careful words, and, when they think nobody’s looking, a disdainful and narcissistic silent scoff at the person in front of them.

It isn’t hard to figure out where you’re supposed to be. You slip through the crowds, earning side glances and amazed stares and even appreciative looks at your body from the more… let’s say scandalous people present.

You take a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, not stopping your pace as you disappear from the throngs of people and into a less populated hallway to the left of the main venue. There are still a few stragglers, mainly drunk or seeking privacy — but as you delve deeper into the deserted museum, a few floors up from the ground, and there is no sign of anybody but yourself, you come across a room that’s guarded by two bulky men dressed in black. Himchan’s men, no doubt.

They say nothing as you take a small sip of your champagne, but as you come to a stop in front of them, the one on the left greets you with a deep bow and a murmur of, “Miss.”

The heavy ornate oak door is opened, revealing a room decorated with expensive antique furniture. The door is on the left side of the room, and opposite is a floor-to-ceiling window that gave a mind blowing view of your Sector — and standing in front of the window, taking in the view, were the men you were there to see.

“Boys,” you greet, a smirk painted on your lips as you bring your flute to them again. They turn slightly, drinking up your image. “Enjoying the view, I take it?”

“Of course,” Yongguk answers first, voice deep and smooth like usual. He takes a hold of one of your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of it, his dark hair flopping over his even darker hair.

“Beautiful as usual, ____,” Himchan comments, only placing a firm hand on your waist in greeting. His own glass of champagne is almost empty, and you suggest that they sit around the glass coffee table with you to fill up their glasses and discuss business.

“So,” Yongguk exhales, leaning backwards comfortably. His eyes focus on you, head tilted to the side as he takes his first drink of the alcohol in his glass, “You wanna tell me why I received multiple kilos of drugs at my HQ earlier?”

Himchan allows his lip to quirk up at the side, eyes lazily drifting over to you too. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to buy our cooperation, ____.”

You offer him a cheeky grin. “Never.”

“The multiple stocks of arms and ammunition delivered to my doorstep say otherwise, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You inhale, swirling the champagne in your glass before you stand, strolling back to the window. You hear the sound of their footsteps as they follow you; Himchan on your right, Yongguk on your left.

“Do you remember when I inherited the First Sector from my father?” You ask, the tone of your voice a mixture of nostalgic and serious. It was time for business.

“How could we forget?” Yongguk murmurs.

“You’ve come a long way,” Himchan adds quietly. You allow the ghost of a smile to spill over your lips.

“I built this place from the dirt up,” you agree, downing the last of your drink. “I made this place thrive. And now, the Mayor’s trying to take that away from me.”

Yongguk and Himchan show no reaction of surprise or immediate indignation, and you guess it’s because they’ve already been informed of your situation. Their eyes stay trained on the skyline.

“What do you need us to do?” Yongguk says a minute later, turning his body to face you. Himchan doesn’t object to his inclusion in the matter, and turns towards you too.

“I need support,” you answer, finally meeting their eyes. “The Mayor can’t deny anything I want when he’s against all three of us.”

Yongguk sighs, before he nods. “You have my full support, ____.”

Himchan remains silent, only giving his own nod in response as Yongguk finishes his drink and returns to the coffee table to refill, leaving you and Himchan alone.

“Now that business is over,” Himchan begins, a devilish smile tugging at his lips, “You don’t mind me complimenting you again, do you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all.”

“Because this dress—” he inhales, a hand looping around your waist and tugging you closer— “Is driving me crazy.” He bites his lip, his other hand travelling across the shape of your hips and the swell of your behind, drawing a shock of laughter from you.

“You know, Himchan,” you tease, drawing your lips closer to his neck, feeling his grip tighten on your waist, “I don’t think Yongguk or the National Museum would appreciate us fucking in this room.”

“I have a feeling that Yongguk wouldn’t particularly mind,” Himchan whispers as you draw back, lips inches apart — his words make you instinctively glance over to where the leader of the Second Sector is lounging; the dark eyes watching the pair of you makes you visibly shiver, and Himchan chuckles.

“Why don’t you go and keep him company?” Himchan suggests, voice a mere whisper in your ear. The assertive seductress in you is tugging the leash on your neck and telling you to not even move, but the breathy submissive that you had hidden deep inside of you was choosing the worst time to emerge.

You still manage to keep the sexiness in your stride as you saunter towards Yongguk, the smile growing on your face with every click of your heels against the floor.

“Ggukie,” you coo teasingly, watching as his jaw clenches and his brows knit together. The patronisation was purely to irritate him, because despite his job, it was well known that Bang Yongguk was a gentle soul. You didn’t need gentle tonight.

He sits back, drinking in your figure as you hike your dress up to your hips in order to straddle him easily. You can feel the heaviness of Himchan’s stare on you, on how Yongguk’s hands grasp your hips naturally — but Yongguk’s eyes are only on yours.

Slowly, just to wind him up, you draw your lips closer to his, feeling his breaths against your face before you finally close the gap between you two.

You’re uncertain, at first. You don’t know if you’ve made the right choice in doing this because the air has completely stilled and it feels as if years have passed before Yongguk moves his lips against yours, taking the lead straight away. A soft moan is drawn from your throat as Yongguk presses a hand to the back of your head, holding you against him so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

You restrain a jump when you feel cold hands on your shoulders, goosebumps following every touch placed on your skin. Himchan’s hands brush appreciatively over the soft curves of your shoulders, down the expanse of your back until his fingers caught the zipper of your dress.

In the mean time, Yongguk must sense that you’re getting distracted by Himchan’s hands, and decides to avert your attention back to him by dropping a hand to squeeze at your thick thighs, veering towards the lacy fabric of your panties. Chaeyoung’s choice — you had scoffed at her for making you wear lingerie (even if it was only underwear), but you didn’t regret it now.

The cold air makes your skin tingle, and with every inch of skin revealed with the unzipping of your dress, you become more and more excited, impatient to get friction where you need it most. You tear your lips from Yongguk with difficulty, standing to slip the rest of your dress off — you hear a low whistle come from Yongguk, and the sharp inhalation of breath from behind you is an equally as good sign.

“Fuck,” Himchan mutters softly, pressing his chest against your back, snaking his arms to your front and drifting his hands from the soft bulge of your stomach to the roundness of your breasts. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

“I know,” you answer cheekily, “But I can’t help but feel a little left out, you know. You’re both looking awfully overdressed.”

You drag yourself from his embrace and sit yourself opposite Yongguk, on an expensive piece of furniture that you’d surely be replacing for the museum tomorrow. “I’d appreciate if you’d both shed some?”

Yongguk shakes his head at your attitude but he contradicts his actions with the smile on his face, standing from the couch and throwing his suit jacket behind him. He barely unbuttons his shirt — only till his toned chest can clearly be seen — and busies himself with kneeling in front of you, dragging his thumbs over your knees and pressing kisses to your calves.

“Who would want to do that when you’re sitting here like this?” He raises an eyebrow, words muffled against your skin. In a matter of seconds, he’s grabbing your knees and pulling them apart, revealing your covered pussy. He doesn’t waste any time; your breath is wrenched from your lungs as he suddenly presses a hard thumb to your clit, pushing the lacy fabric into the bundle of nerves and using the underwear to his advantage.

He doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips against his touch, breathy pants filling the room and the pulsating burning in your lower stomach growing with every passing second. You almost can’t believe that Yongguk’s about to make you cum — and only from a finger on your clit through your underwear.

As if sensing your thoughts, he pushes your underwear aside so quickly you can barely register it; a swipe of his thumb at your entrance lubricates the digit enough for him to roll it against your clit, and as you sense your orgasm nearing you can’t help but bring a hand up to pinch and roll your nipple between your fingers. The collective sensations have you throwing your head back, your hips bucking and toes curling—

“Fuck, Ggukie—” Your gasp is cut short with the onslaught of pure white that your orgasm brings, pussy spasming and pulsating, hips rolling and riding you through the powerful sensation. Your breath is short and your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re sure that Yongguk’s ministrations have caused you to positively soak yourself with arousal — but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your eyes only flutter open a minute later when the last shocks of your orgasm wear away, instinctively catching Yongguk’s eyes. He has the nerve to smirk before he stands, his thumb slipping into his mouth to taste your arousal.

“She taste good?” In the flurry of movement you had almost forgotten about Himchan. While you were busy with Yongguk he had shed his suit jacket, too, but had unbuttoned his shirt fully and now stood in front of you beside Yongguk, champagne lifted to his lips and hand in his pocket. With any two other people, you would’ve felt cornered, trapped — but you’ve grown strangely comfortable with the boys that their close proximity doesn’t bother you.

“Delicious,” Yongguk answers, eyes still on you. They don’t make any move to rejoin you on the couch, watching as your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. Impatience courses through you as another minute passes and they continue to admire your body.

“I’m getting tired of waiting,” you groan, throwing your head back. You loop your fingers through your underwear and begin to drag the offending lace down your smooth legs. “Somebody come and do something…”

Himchan exhales a small laugh, setting the glass he was finished with back on the coffee table, and sits himself beside you. A few pats on his lap is all it take for you to turn and straddle his hips, shivering at the feeling of his bulge pressing against your sensitive pussy.

In seconds, Himchan has undone his dress pants enough to remove his cock from his briefs; and, mouth almost watering, you’re quick to grasp him in your hands, your touch cold against the warmth of his cock and extracting a groan from the man’s mouth.

“I thought you were tired of waiting?” Himchan muses, though his eyes are focused on the movement of your hands up and down his length.

You allow a sound of agreement to fall passed your lips, shoulders shrugging before you decide to get to the main event — you raise your hips up, running the tip of his cock along your slit with a sigh of pleasure before you begin to sink down on him, your walls burning slightly with the stretch. It had been a while.

You’re clenching around Himchan uncontrollably when you bottom out. He’s more thick than he is long, and your breath has become heavy with the effort of not moaning out at the fullness.

“Come on,” he grunts softly, rocking his hips against yours to start your pace. He places a hand on your hip, the other squeezing your breasts, “Get going.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you whine internally as you begin to move, alternating between slow, powerful grinds and short bounces but managing to keep a steady pace. The feeling of him sliding against your quivering walls, every inch of him sending your heart palpitating and mind fuzzy, was almost overpowering.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Himchan groans, removing the hand from your breasts and making you cry out when it begins to rub erratically against your clit. “There we go…”

You don’t bother holding any sound back, then: every gasp, every pant and cry, every moan and groan and grunt and whine fills the room, fueling Himchan’s desire and making his mouth fill with similar grunts. Your fingers dig into the back of the armchair you’re sitting on, your eyes clenched shut.

But the sound of movement not coming from you or Himchan compels you to open your eyes, and you come face to face — or, well face to crotch — with Bang Yongguk.

You manage a tired yet devious smile. “F-feeling — a-ah! — left o-out?”

“I see the attitude never leaves,” Yongguk murmurs, unzipping his pants and removing his cock from his briefs. He begins to pump his length, only centimetres away from your mouth, running his thumb over the slit and smoothing his precum over the head — and then, when he decides you’re ready, he grabs your chin, steadying you enough to sink your mouth onto his cock.

You begin to grind your hips faster and faster, while simultaneously focusing on running your tongue on the underside of Yongguk’s cock, bringing a shaky hand up from the back of the armchair to pump the remainder of his length that you couldn’t swallow.

Every sound you make vibrates onto his cock, and by the deep groans that are falling from his lips, you’d say he enjoyed the sensation — you point your tongue, rubbing it into his slit and pumping him faster and faster — the burning, electrifying pleasure that’s tingling through your entire body becomes stronger and stronger with every push of Himchan’s cock into your pussy and every grind of his thumb against your clit—

“Y-yes — Oh - Oh, my God—!” You let out a final shaky gasp when your orgasm hits you. Your limbs feel weak with pleasure and your lungs aren’t filling with air and everywhere is tingling and your pussy is clenching and pulsating around Himchan. The man in question has his eyes trained on your face, jaw clenched at the combined sight of your pleasure-filled face and the feeling of your walls massaging his length—

His hips thrust into you even when he cums, spilling himself into you and pressing his fingers into your waist. You’d surely be bruised tomorrow, but for the moment your attention is purely focused on making Yongguk spurt his cum onto your tongue.

“Come on,” you mumble against him, looking at him through your lashes. Your hand speeds up, twisting and tightening around him until he cums, a long, drawn-out groan filling the room and his cum filling your mouth.

You continue to pump him until you’re sure you’ve completely drained him, and swallow the white liquid that was deposited in your mouth with a happy hum.

Heavy breathing follows in the minutes after you’ve all finished. Tiredness is ebbing at your mind but you manage to pull yourself off of Himchan, wincing at the feeling of his cum beginning to trickle from your pussy and onto your thighs.

Luckily their had been napkins delivered with the champagne on the table, and you’re quick to clean yourself up while Yongguk and Himchan collapse on the armchairs, eyes closed and chests rising and falling heavily with exhaustion.

And when they open their eyes not more than 10 minutes later, they’re confronted by an empty room — you’re gone, and the only thing that assures them of their previous escapades is the napkin on the table with a red kiss planted on the corner.

You’re halfway across the First Sector when they wake up, tired yet victorious. You had secured the expansion of your kingdom, no matter the cost.

After all, a queen must always prepared to do anything she needed to do in order to keep her kingdom thriving and growing. Anything.

NewtXReader -Not a priority - Part 2

masterlist

Part 1 - not a priority

I would recommend re-reading part 1 again before              continuing :)

———————————————————————————————————–

The emptiness was always there. Although his sensitive nature made him feel even deeper he managed to hide it behind his reserved persona, however the feeling never completely escaped him.

It hid everywhere, the emptiness, in the closet, the cupboards. There wasn’t any getting away from it. Most days he worked endlessly in his case to the point of extreme exhaustion and stress. He just needed to feel something. To distract himself, from not anything else but simply himself.

Just as you had quote on quote hoped’, Newt’s book was an incredible success, but success was nothing to Newt if he didn’t have someone he loved to share it with. The recognition for his work seemed worthless without your opinion, your praise was the only one that mattered.

Had you even bothered to buy a copy of the book? Did you even think about him anymore? These where thoughts that often passed Newt’s mind.

As he aimlessly wandered around the apartment the two of you used to live in, a lonely tear rolled down his freckled cheek. It hurt him to stand where he stood.

Every inch of the room holding memories which the two of you had shared together. A little pile of your belongings still lay untouched in the corner, but little did Newt know their owner was standing outside.

You stood in front of the red apartment door, breathing shakily in. ‘Please be not here, please be not here’ you prayed.

You were scared. So scared. Every muscle felt tight, sprung for action. Even your face felt tight, like smiling just wasn’t an option today. Your body screamed for you to sprint down the street, for you knew that behind the door was the auburn haired man you once loved…and still, hopelessly loved.

Letting a nervous sigh out, you willed your hand to push down on the handle. As the door opened, daylight from outside shone central on Newt.

His appearance was unusually scruffy, as though he failed to see the point of looking presentable anymore. His bow tie hung slanted and his hair unbrushed. Upon hearing your footsteps his eyes nervously flicked to the door, a mixed look of guilt and relief on his face. His mouth hung over for a second as though he was trying to form a sentence out of the millions of words he wanted to say.

“Y/N….I-I didn’t m-mean it you know that right? I was just so s-stressed, I had no idea what I was saying” he pleaded, his gaze now full fixated on the floor.

“It’s ok Newt” you replied monotonously, not even a waver of emotion in your tone. You wouldn’t let him see you crack.

Shock emerged over his features as his eyes locked with yours, as it took a couple of seconds to process what you had just said.

“It’s ok?” He repeated, unsure if he’d just imagined it. Did you really just forgive him?

“Yes”

“So you’ll come home?” He hopefully asked, a longing look in his glance.

…..

“No. I’m just here for my belongings Newt” you sadly whispered.

At this Newt’s smile instantly dropped, a heartbroken expression replacing it. His eyes became glossy once again and his posture slightly hunched.

“Newt I forgive you for what you said… Merlins sake we all have off days” you laughed blankly ,“but this doesn’t change anything. Work will always take a priority in your life and I won’t ask you to change that for me. It’s just in your nature Newt. I won’t blame you for loving your creatures. If you want to out them first…then so be it”, your voice shook in places as you forced the words out.

Tears uncontrollably fell from Newt’s eyes as he attempted to defend himself, “Being a Magozoologist is hard work-”

Love is hard work”, you interrupted slightly annoyed, “I love you…but I can’t keep going on like this. I’m not one of your creatures who only needs food sleep and shelter. I need your time. I need you Newt”.

Silence hung in the atmosphere.

“I was doing it for you Y/N”, Newt declared quietly his voice slightly breaking, “I-I know you hate having to move constantly… Always having to find a new home and rent different apartments. I just wanted to finish the book so desperately so we wouldn’t have to travel for creatures anymore…so we could settle down” he finished heartbrokenly.

“Newt-” did he really work all those long nights for you?

“…My aim was to finish the novel, I swear neglecting you was never my attention. I was going to use the money from the book too buy us a home…..

…..our home

From his pocket Newt pulled a crumpled piece of paper. Shyly he placed it in the palm of your hand, anxiously waiting for your reaction. Unfolding the corners a picture of a beautiful little house with 'a for sale’, was printed. Studying the image you noticed that it was a spacious house which walls where laced with ivy, nearly a replica of the house you had always dreamed of.

You had often talked to Newt about how you would’ve loved to buy a home with him in the future. Room for the both of you and maybe…even children. However most of the time you brought the topic up, it was when you and Newt used to cuddle before bed. Although you had mentioned it to him before you never thought he actually listened as most of the time he was half asleep.

You knew he was content with just living in his case and had never really longed for the comfort of a proper home like you. But he was prepared to give all that up. To work to the point of exhaustion to fund your dream.

You wanted to speak but all you could do is softly croak, “our home?”

Simply nodding his head, Newt’s mouth painted a soft smile. The piece of paper fell from your hands as he paced towards you. The warmth of his body met your cold skin, his hands clasping around your lower back, the other running through your hair. With each soft touch more tears fall, tears neither of you wipe away. “I’m sorry Newt I didn’t know. I guess I kind of ruined the surprise, didn’t I?”, you playfully joked into his chest".

“I’m just want you to be happy Y/N. I'll promise I’ll cut back on my hours Y/N. Just as long as your fine with living from my case for a while longer?” Still enveloped in Newt arms you tilted your head up, locking your eyes directly with his.

Newt was your home. You didn’t need a dream house and Newt didn’t need to work endless hours. As long as you had one another, you were each others only priority.

———————————————————————————————————–

If you enjoyed feel free to give feedback, like, reblog and send in requests! Nearly 1k, I love all you hufflepuffs. Enjoy this beautiful GIF of Newt.

Originally posted by xoxoeddie

Sae Miyakawa’s full floor routine from the 2017 NHK Cup. The Chusovitina is a mess and the double layout is a bit low but the first pass is perfect and the double double is better than usual for her.

community college gothic

  • there are wi fi dead zones between buildings. silence falls in these areas. weather stops. the birds do not fly. the squirrels do not go there. the trees are judging you. humans do not speak. they know better.
  • the nursing students travel in packs. they do not look at other students. they do not speak to other students. they do not acknowledge the existence of anyone who is not also a nursing student. they exist in a parallel dimension that is slightly out of sync with ours. do not question this. they will recognize you as one of their own if you wear blue scrubs, but do not do this. do not attempt to make contact. you will not be heard from again if you do.
  • you will never see anyone making new graffiti, but it appears anyway. it becomes increasingly desperate. you will ignore it, but it continues to niggle at the back of your mind. maybe it is a call for help. there is nothing you can do for them now.
  • there are students you will see regularly who do not work or go to classes. they are not students, but instead manifestations of procrastination, appearing to remind you that there are better ways to spend your time than on assignments. pay them no mind.
  • nobody looks at the fish in the pond. it is forbidden.
  • the campus will seem to shrink as you become familiar with it. don’t be alarmed. the campus has gotten used to you and has shortened the distances of your paths so you will get to class on time. if you befriend the campus, it will show you the secret portals between buildings. this is the secret of the people who always arrive early.
  • there is a bathroom where the taps are always running. do not go in there alone. nobody knows why the taps are always running, but better safe than sorry.
  • there is another bathroom where sometimes, you walk in to find the floor is full of standing water. close the door and walk away. it’s not worth it to know what caused the puddles.
  • there is a flock of crows that live on campus. they see all. they know all. all fear the crows.

I don’t know why but photos/videos I’ve seen of bmc gives me this really weird sensation of like

when you’re at the mall and all the stores are closed bc it’s like 10 pm and maybe you can go into exactly one store (probably a used game store) and there aren’t any windows but the fluorescent lights are still on so you have a really bizarre perception of time and the place is practically abandoned