good god yes its that time of day when i torture myself

anonymous asked:

how about MC couldn't get a present for the twins (probably because they didn't tell her it was their birthday), so MC puts on a bow and tell them she will be their gift? it's up to you if this is smutty or not?

Countdown to the Cake: 2

MC as a bithday gift


“Oh MC~~ you missed a spot!” Saeyoung points and smiles teasingly.

“Saeyoung, I’m tired, I’m hungry, my clothes are wet and I look like a mess. Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“MC… I’m kind enough to help you clean my babies in my birthday and that’s how you pay me? Oh… I guess people like me aren’t meant to have a happy birthday after all…” he says dramatically, you roll your eyes.

“You’re just taking advantage of me! I told you I was gonna be your gift, not your maid or…” oh no, you should not have used that word, you look at him and his eyes gleam mischievously.

“Yes, you’re right… and your clothes are all wet, maybe you should change? I might have some spare clothes for you…”

How did you end up here? Oh yeah…  it was this morning, you dropped by to grab the HBC bags he promised you and smelled something burning in the kitchen.

“Shit! My birthday cake!”

“Why were you doing birthday cake?”

“For my birthday, obviously!”

“Your birthday? When is your birthday, Saeyoung?”

“June 11th

“Do you mean today?” he nodded, then sighed in frustration, looking at the amount of black burnt dough. “Now what will I have for my birthday?”

You felt bad for him… “Well, you…  you can have me!” you stated, smiling nervously and hoping he wouldn’t take this in the wrong way… “I’ll be… you birthday gift! We can do whatever you want!”

When you said that, you were expecting he would want to hang out in the amusement park or in an arcade, how could you imagine he would want you to help him wash his cars? And how could you imagine he would turn into this sadistic evil little monster throwing water in you on purpose?

So now, here you are changing to a freaking maid costume, of course those would be the only spare clothes he would have for you! You just hope he doesn’t ask for nothing weird like speaking in a French accent or something like this.

“Come out, MC! I wanna see you…~” he smiles teasingly, but his smile fades away as you timidly step out of his room. “MC… you look…”

“Pathetic, I know.” Not what he was thinking of at all… oh god… you looked adorable and… sexy… and the tiara with a little bow on it made you really resemble a birthday gift.

He looks away, blushing. You look down, feeling ridiculous. Why this silence right now? You two never have a problem finding interests in common and subjects to talk about, the deepest and meaningful conversations or the silliest and weirderst ones, you two can always feel a true connection.

“Can we finish polishing the cars?” you ask, finally gathering some courage to look at him.

“Y-yeah, le-let’s do it…” he doesn’t look back at you.

The polishing is torture, he is trying to focus, but it’s impossible as you bent down in one of the cars to polish its hood, your skirt is so short! His hands works in circles, but only then he realizes there is no car, he is polishing the air, looking at you, his mouth ajar.

“I finished this one, Saeyoung, do you want some help?” he is still staring and doesn’t answer. “Saeyoung?” you look at him, curious.

“It’s good, MC… you did a great job… you look… great, you… are… great…” he gulps when you start walking towards him.

“I… am?” you tilt your head and smile. “Saeyoung?”


“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday before?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m just very used to spend this day alone. I… didn’t know if I could tell you, I still have these habits of not telling much about me to people I… like.” your heart flutter, is he trying to confess? Oh… You knew there was more behind this tease sadistic side of him.

“You could have told me. I would have known what to do for you.” You come really close, he can feel your breath against his face.

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing right now, MC.” He says, his eyes following your lips with lust.

“Only if you know what to do next.”

He smirks before attacking your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you even closer. Your tongues dance together as you two trip in your own feet till the back of your knees meet the car’s hood, making you sit.

His tongue travels down you moth to your jaw, making you spread your legs to bring him closer as he kisses your neck, the hand which was holding you tight against him goes a little up, reaching for the zipper in the maid dress.

“H-Happy birthday, Saeyoung…”

“Oh, for the very fisrt time in a long time, it will be…” he says breathlessly, making you lie in the car’s hood as his body keeps pressed against yours.


Saeyoung was busy for the day and asked you to pick Saeran in the therapy. He usually would get back quieter than usual after the sessions. Although it concerned you and made you wonder if the therapy was really helping, you wouldn’t say anything in order to get him even more nervous.

“Hey, how was it?”

“Fine.” Yes, that’s what he usually says.

“Okay, wanna get some ice cream?”

“No, not today.” Oh… that was weird… he never turned down ice cream.

“Okay… so I’ll take you home.”

“I wanna go to your place.” He says, looking away, you can’t help feeling surprise. “What? Something wrong?”

“No, not at all. It’s just… you never want to go to my place without Saeyoung.”

“Today it’s different.” Then he looks at you, and even though you don’t know why, how can you say no?

You get home and tell him to make himself comfortable. He sits in the couch and starts messing with his phone.

“So, uhm… your therapist… how is she?”

“She’s okay, I guess. Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s just…  I don’t know much about her, that’s all.”

“She’s fine, she says some weird stuff sometimes, but I don’t hate her.” Wow, okay, so maybe he likes her, that’s good. “Do you have cupcakes? I want cupcakes.”

“I don’t, but… maybe I can try to make a few. Do you want to help me?”


You put on your apron and help him with his, he looks slightly embarrassed when you almost hug him as you tie a bow in the apron. You start working on making the cupcakes, and and now you are waiting to take it out of the oven.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking, why cupcakes? Why not ice cream?”

“She says I need to do different things in special days, so I can feel the difference and know what’s special and what’s not, some bullshit like that.” Some bullshit he’s listening to.

“Oh… so today is a special day, huh?” why could that be?

“Yeah, Saeyoung even got me a present. Though he’s always giving me presents, I don’t know what changes just because it’s our birthday. Can you put sprinkles in the frosting? Will you do some frosting?” you blink a couple of times, staring at him. “I guess not, then…”

“Saeran… today it’s your birthday?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, it’s just… I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t, I didn’t tell you.” Well, yeah… that’s the point. You look really embarrassed, clearing your throat and avoiding his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“I… nothing. I… am sorry, I didn’t know, I… didn’t get you anything. I thought this was just a regular day. I mean, I’ve been wondering when your birthday would be and what could I get you, but… I could never imagine it was today…”

“It’s fine. So, uhm… what did you think about getting me for a gift?”

“I… here’s the thing, I… couldn’t think of anything, so I was… wondering about offering myself as your gift. You know… going to anywhere you want to go, do what you would like to do for the day, stupid cheesy things that, now that I come to think of it, are awf…” he grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

“I’ll take it.” You blush, so does he. Now you wonder how long it’s gonna take for him to let you go and get all flustered and weird, but… he doesn’t. He keeps looking at you, and his face is getting closer, and closer… you close your eyes in anticipation and… the timer dings, indicating the baked cupcakes are ready.

You two get away from each other, both really embarrassed and giving these quick glances to each other. Well, maybe this is a sign to not make bold moves like that, he’s not ready for this kind of relationship.

You two start working on the frosting, he’s so focused and dedicated, it’s absolutely adorable. He looks at you, mimicking everything you do. It’s been like this in almost everything, he’s always looking up for you in order to act as normal as possible. Your eyes lock to his, and you’ll think t’s going to be one of those moments, but he starts chuckling, you look at him confused.

“It’s just… you have something in your face.” Oh yeah… there’s some frosting in your cheek, you didn’t bother to clean because you were trying to finish this. “Let me get that for you.” You think he’ll wipe it off with his fingers, but your breath hitches when he leans closer and licks it off your face. “Yummy” he says, smiling softly. Today really is a different day, huh?

You can see the other days here!

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Four)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?


“Jen, love?”

I started and jumped from the pillow in the dark, my whole body seizing and splintering wi’ panic—

But it was only Ian, of course, half-asleep at my back. He pulled me closer against him and kissed my shoulder.  “Yr—tossin’ and turnin’ about like—S’matter?”

“Nothin’…Nothin’, only somethin’ I ate,” I whispered, tryin’ to catch my breath.

“Get—ye somethin’?” 

“Nay, lad, I’ll—I’ll do,” I panted, my blood racing and pounding. “Go b—back to sleep, mo ghriadh.” I pulled back the quilts and made to sit up. “I’ll—go take a turn— settle meself.” Nearly midnight, it must be. 

Ian groped clumsily for me and caught my hand. “Lov’ye…”

Tears prickled in my eyes, sharp and hot against the air of the night. God, the tenderness of him—the sweetness and care and love this good man lavished upon me, always

“D’ye think me a good person, Ian?” I whispered into the dark between us. 


My throat felt sore, the words as raw and frail and desperate as my pathetic heart. “Am I truly good? Or have I only been good at pretendin’ to be…while I’m no more than the verra worst kind of filth?”

The question rang out into the silence; unanswered. He’d have reassured me, had he actually heard, had the soft, familiar whiffle of his snorin’ not already resumed. It was as well not to be coddled wi’ comforting lies. I kent the truth well enough. 

Oh, but how I ached to wake him, to tell him at least of Claire and the evil that I’d done; to let him hold me tight and safe while I wept into his chest; let the comfort of him surround me, soothe me, as he convinced me wi’ gentle kisses and soft words that all would be well, that he’d carry the burden wi’ me—that I wouldna be alone, ever.  

Alone like Jamie. 

Alone like Claire.

This was my penance: this coldness—this regret—this utter, writhing, blistering shame. I’d taken away any chance for their happiness, so for the rest of my life, I had to bear it; to atone, myself, however I might. Emptiness, carried alone: a fitting punishment for my crime. 

I kissed Ian’s brow, slipped out of bed, found my shawl, and made my way down the stairs toward the study. I reeled a bit on the treads, my head achin’ and spinnin’, and small bloody wonder, for I’d drunk heavily all the evenin’. 

At first, it were only that I was preparin’ myself for the task at hand, hopin’ the drink would brace me, give me courage for when I found the right moment to face Jamie. Every time I looked at him, though, the gentle hunger in his eyes that lit over bein’ wi’ family; the smile on his face as he played with the wee bairns, as he joyed in the balm of home—of love—God, my coward’s heart had bucked and fled, at every opportunity. 

And by the time I might have finally confronted things, the drink had taken hold, bringing my fears to bear, and I’d staggered up to my bed long before anyone else, and dreamt of screams of pain—and sorrow—and—

Now, I was surprised and relieved to find as I reached the bottom of the stairs that I was hardened, a wall of conviction slowly rising up around me, protectin’ me. Jamie need not know; Jamie must not be told. It was too late, after all; Claire was too far gone. I’d done wrong, to my everlasting shame. I’d committed a terrible, cruel evil against them both. But what good would it do to torture him wi’ that knowledge, now? When he had no chance of findin’ her? None. T’would be only agony to him, that wisp of hope, now vanished by my hand. 

No. He couldna ever be told. It was the kindest thing I could do, now, to keep the secret from hurting him further. 

All that remained was for me to find a way to live wi’ myself—drink and distraction; and there was always a good decanter of whisky in the study along wi’ the books. I pushed through the study door and was no more than two steps in before I collided wi’ something solid and—



My candle was somersaulting through the air and onto the good rug, and just as suddenly, quick fingers snatched it up again before it could catch.

“I’m so sorry, Jen,” Jamie was sayin’, settin’ the candlestick on the table next to one of his own before turnin’ back to grin at me, all sheepish in only his shirt. “I couldna sleep and came down for a dram and was looking at the books just there by the door, and—” He stopped and blinked, surveying me in alarm. “Lass, you’re white as a sheet and shaking like— Are ye hurt, dove?”

“No, its—I’m fine—” I shrank back from his touch, from the heartbreaking sweetness of the endearment.

Tell him.

Only—agony to him, now. 

It’s far pa—past—(breathe)—too late—damn me to hell for it. 

I turned hastily for the door. “I didna mean to intrude upon your quiet, Jamie, I’ll just—”

“No-no-no, dinna be daft,” Jamie laughed, eagerly, stepping swiftly around me to block the door. “Stay! Sit wi’ me a time—have a drink.”

“No, really, I should—”

“Jen, we barely got to speak all this evening,” he said, and there was more than a touch of hurt in that soft voice, those soft eyes. “Please? Stay wi’ me?”

Brother, if ye only kent what I was, you’d cast me out into the cold this moment, and have me walk until the very sea swallowed me up. 

And I’d deserve it. 


“Come on, wee fool,” Jamie said, gently, but in truth, he was begging. He wanted her to stay. He needed her to stay, to help drive this terrible sadness away, tonight. 

At last, she relented, and let him close the door. He held out his arms to her, and after a very long moment, she came to him. “It’s very glad I am to see ye, lass,” he whispered into her hair, trying not to let his voice crack with just how glad he was of it. 


Lord, why did she sound so tentative around him, tonight? She had been cool toward him all the evening, busying herself with the meal and with clearing it, and with taking another whisky, offering him one, but then bustling onward to the next task and retiring early before they could exchange more than a dozen words. 

“Tell me true.” He gently took her by the shoulders and held her far enough away to look her in the eye, beseeching. “Have I done something to wrong ye, lass?” 

She gaped at him, going even paler than before. “Wrong me?” 

“I dinna think I’m mistaken in noticing you’re no’ pleased to see me, this visit. So I’ll ask again….Have I done something that’s wronged ye?” Even moments ago, she had seemed barely to touch him as he embraced her. “I’ll do anythin’ I can to make it right, I swear it.” 

“Never.” To his astonishment, her face fell, and she made a little sound almost like a sob as she at last hugged him tight, a real embrace. “You would never do anything to wrong me, Jamie.” 

He held her close, the sense of home finally settling around him. His blood—his sister. 

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” she said, muffled into his chest, “I am glad to see ye. I’m just—no’ quite myself, tonight.” 

“Is something amiss wi’ ye then, dove? Are ye feeling ill?” 

“No, I’ll do.” He could have sworn she shuddered, but she pulled back and put her hands on her hips to study at him with brows drawn, as she always did, the dear, wee busybody. “Lord above, you’re too thin, ye great toad.”

“Are great toads typically thin?” he laughed, placing a kiss on the top of her head and moving to settle onto the plump cushions of the settee.

“Aye, and your voice all scratchit like one, to boot,” she laughed with something like her usual fire, curling her legs under her on the armchair facing him. “But truly, do ye get yourself fed at all, in Edinburgh?”

“Aye,” he said, passing her a whisky glass, “not grand fare, mind,” he winked, or tried to, “but dinna fash: I make it a special point of policy to eat every day.”

“Well, that’s good. Do it more, aye? You’re—” She shook her head, looking actually pained as she took him in again. “You’re….wasting away, Jamie.” 

He waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s why I must visit my sister, whose excellent cooks will always get me fattened up again.” 

“I must thank ye again for seeing my wee Ian safely home to me.”

“’Course, Jen,” he murmured, “happy to do it. The lad continues to be quite the handful, I see.” 

“God,” she groaned, “I’ve not the faintest idea what’s to be done about the wee eejit. S’like tryin’ to trap a breeze upon a mountaintop. I’m sure he’ll ask to be allowed to go back wi’ ye wi’ our blessing this time, but—” 

“I’d no’ mind it, owermuch” He tried to sound casual, not as desperately eager as he felt. “In fact, I verra nearly let him talk me into letting him stay, this time.”

“Wheedles something fierce, does wee Ian,” Jenny agreed ruefully. “I suppose ‘tis good for his hope of catchin’ a wife one day. A boy that’s so plain best ken how to wield charm to his good uses, at least,” she said with a grimace and a deep draught from her glass.

“Aye, that’s so,” Jamie laughed. “He can argue the black off a boot. Though, it was less to do wi’ him than me,” he added quietly, a moment later. 

“How’s that?”

“I’d have been happy for the company.” He shrugged, trying for nonchalance, but it was a shrug of unease. “It’s quite lonely, there in the shop.” His emptiness rang into the very corners of the room in the saying of it. 

Jenny heard it too, and put on a cheery, winning manner as she scoffed, “Nonsense, you’ve got Fergus, aye?”

“Fergus is a great help, true, and an even greater comfort to me,” he agreed. The boy—Christ, he was fifteen years or more past being a *boy,* but Fergus would always be so, to Jamie—was his pride and his right hand. 

“But, of course, ye may not ken how often Fergus is gone from Edinburgh seeing to—other business. Scarce half the days of the month, do I see him, in fact.” He shrugged. “And of course, I’m alone in my rooms, after the shop closes. Wi’ only myself for company, the conversation tends to be a trifle repetitive.” 

He meant it as a wee jest to lighten the mood. It didn’t work, for either of them. There was a fair-sized lump in his throat. Jenny’s hands were tight around her glass, her eyes down. He knew he shouldn’t speak so, so wretchedly self-pitying, but damn him, he needed to have someone hear him and understand.

“Sometimes, I go an entire week or more wi’out anyone—not a soul— speaking to me as if they knew me. And it can be longer, even, wi’out anyone saying my real name to me….In Edinburgh, ken, I’m Alexander Malcolm.” 

She gave a weak smile, whispering, “Sawney.” 

“Aye. And folk smile and bow and say, ‘Good Day, Mr. Malcolm.’….‘Shall we see ye on Saturday, Sawney?’….’When are ye thinking of taking a wife, Mr. Malcolm?’” 

The empty glass shot from Jenny’s hands and spun ‘round on the carpet. Neither of them moved to pick it up, and Jamie found he couldn’t stop talking. 

He swallowed. “Before the cave—prison—England——”

Lord, that he might be safe. 

“—I didna truly ken how much it meant to me to be….known. MyselfAnd after everything that’s happened these twenty years, I now find most days as though—” He shook his head. “—as though I’ll just fall away and vanish into naught, from lack of it. I havena….” He dropped his eyes, too ashamed to look her in the eye as he spoke the darkest desolation of his heart, “I can hardly even name the broken pieces of me, any longer…..let alone hope to put them back together.” 

Jenny blinked hard as though holding back tears. Lord, no, there were tears in her eyes, to his shame. He wasn’t saying these things for pity. It was simply the truth of his heart, and it was a true gift to be given the grace to say it aloud, rather than having it tear him apart in the quiet of his mind, day after day. And yet it pained him to grieve Jenny so, to give her any more reason to fear and fret for him. 

He started to say so, but she suddenly blurted, “Maybe—” She was pale, and Jamie could swear she was trembling. “Maybe ‘tis time to—to come back to Balriggan.”

“No,” he said at once with half a laugh, standing and walking over to one of the bookcases.


“No, I said.”

“I ken things wi’ Laoghaire—”

“There’s no’ moving me on this,” he said, more sharply. He had no desire for her to dream up another scheme for rehabilitating his personal happiness. “I’ll continue to do right by them, of course, see them taken care of but…No. I’ll no’ try to find comfort, there, again.”

“Jamie, mo chridhe, please just listen—” She was right on the verge of weeping, from the sound at his back. “I ken she’s not—that she’s… what she is…but I dinna want—” There came the sound of Jenny throwing up her hands in desperation, “—Ye shouldna spend the rest of your days alone, Jamie, wi’—wi’ no JOY! The thought of—”

“There is no joy to be had at Balriggan, sister. Not that kind.” 


He turned to her and gently grasped her shoulders. “You’ve known me all my life, Jen,” he said softly down into her face, contorted as it was with shockingly-vehement feeling. “I’ve been wrong about many things; been hasty and reckless and a fool, when my emotions got ahead of my better judgment, or before I kent proper facts—” He cupped her cheek, his voice hoarse. “—but trust me to ken my own heart, at least: to be alone, to be empty, is better than—than that; to lose what pieces of me still remain to—anger…bitterness….”

She stared up into his face, lips pursed, eyes red and glistening, voice trembling uncontrollably. “But can ye no’—?”

He released her and kissed her cheek, putting all his self into being strong and brave-faced once more, as was his duty. “Dinna fash yourself about me. I’m sorry I let myself carry on down such a maudlin road, this night.” 

Jamie smiled, as warm and broad a smile as he could, as he walked past her back to the settee, meaning to sit. “But it means a great deal to me how much ye do trouble yourself for my sake, truly. I ken ye always mean the best for me, Jenny, and I’m—”

The sob burst out of Jenny like a cannon blast in the night and Jamie whirled, reaching for an absent dirk. “Jen, WH—”

Her face was a broken thing behind her hands. “I’m so—sss—so SORRY, brother.”

“Sorry?” Jamie felt as though he’d been hit by a charging horse. That wasn’t pity in her ‘sorry’: it was true apology. “Whatever for??”

“For the fool that I am,” she sobbed, the tears flowing over her fingers. “After all ye’ve been through—your own sister ought—OUGHT to—Christ, Jamie, I’m so—ashamed.”

“Jenny, dove, mo chridhe,” he whispered as he reached for her, “what on earth  are are ye going on ab—?”

“Wait here—” she managed to choke, already staggering for the door. Her eyes were wild and she put out a staying hand as she went. “Dinna move, just—Just—wait!!”

Too stunned to do otherwise, Jamie stood unmoving on the study rug, mind racing, absolutely at a loss to guess what had come over her. 

When at last she came back through the door, she was white as death, a paper, or envelope, perhaps, clasped against her breast. 

“Jenny, you’re frightening me. Tell me at once what’s happened.” 

“I’ve done—” Her chest seemed to cave in around the envelope, wracked with her sobs. “I’ve done a terrible wrong against ye, brother.” 

“Nonsense,” he vowed, moving toward her to sort things out. “Whatever’s the—”

Don’t,” she hissed, halting him with a frantic shake of the the head, her teeth gritted. “Just—stop.”

He raised both his hands to her in desperate plea.“I dinna understand, Jenny.” 

She closed the distance between them with halting steps and forced the envelope into his hands, holding her own tight around them. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face, for it was an expression he’d never seen there—absolute anguish and absolute shame. 

His eyes dropped to his hands. Aye, a thick envelope, the face bare and unmarked. 

He turned it over and saw the single word there written:

J a m i e

He might have been screaming—he might have been crying—he might have fallen into a dark pit, with the earth closed in over him.

He was on the ground, his leg aching from where he’d fallen against something. The envelope stared up at him from the floor and he stared back. 

those five letters 

written in Claire’s hand

a thin interlace pattern pressed into the blood-red seal.

Jenny was sobbing. “She was here— Claire was here, Jamie—”

“Claire’s gone—” he was screaming or whimpering, “Claire—is—GONE—”

“She came back.”


“No, she came for ye—CAME here

Nothing made sense

“—And I did such grievous wrong by ye in the things I said to her.”

There was no damned SENSE in the words that she—

C l a i r e

Jenny kneeling before him. 


Jenny, grabbing his hand, hard. “She said it would give ye peace, what’s inside.” 

CAME for’—?

Jenny, pressing the packet against his chest wi’ his own hand, holding it there, tight. 


Jenny’s face, mere inches from his, breaking apart with weeping—all but mute from the violence of her pain. “I'm—so—sorry, Jamie.” 

A kiss on his cheek, and then she was gone.

Watching like one paralyzed as the envelope fluttered once more to the ground onto its face. 

J a m i e

…his real name. 

He lunged, but he couldn’t even lift the envelope. His fingers felt like claws—lacking thumbs—lacking everything except brute force. He managed to rip off the seal and force open the pages, but he could only press it flat onto the floor with both his hands, hunched over it like a starving beast over its kill. 

And though he’d feared it some nightmare, his soul burst like the lungs of a drowning man as he read—as he believed— the words beneath him:  

“My own Jamie,” 

Host with the Most - Chanyeol  (EXO)

Originally posted by dulcetyeoll

Prompt: My friend dragged me to this party and I wound up talking to you about how much I didn’t like being here and you start smirking at me and suddenly my friend came up to me and introduced you as the host of this party and now I’m freaking out because I’ve just been telling you how awful it was for the past ten minutes. 

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Author’s Note: Even after writing this, I still don’t know what I would do in this situation. Hope you enjoy!

“Lizzy, I’m not doing this!” you whined from your place on your bed. Your best friend was currently raiding your closet, picking an outfit for you to wear.

“Oh yes you are!” she demanded, looking at a blue dress. “You haven’t left your apartment in two weeks except to get food!” 

“I’m not ready to be around people yet…” you started. “I’m still hurt.” You were an introvert as it was, but at this time you especially did not want to socialize. 

Lizzy sighed, then sat next to you on your bed. “Y/N, I know that you and Kijoon had a really serious relationship. But just because he hurt you doesn’t mean you have to torture yourself watching ‘The Notebook’ under your covers all day sobbing over an empty tub of ice cream. He was a jerk, and you deserve better.” She patted your back.

“Thanks Lizzy, but I’m still trying to figure out how to go on with my life. When I found out… I felt like collapsing…”

“Look, I’ve never been through the pain of being cheated on, and I can’t pretend to imagine it. All I know is that it completely sucks. However, I can tell you that the answer is not at the bottom of that bucket of cookies and cream. Why should you cry for someone who’s not crying over you?” she asked. 

“That’s true…” you told her, wiping your tangled hair out of your eyes. “Maybe you’re right… I just need to force myself to interact with people this once, and then I can go on like normal.”

“Well that’s great, because you’re going to be the prettiest jewel there!” she smiled, whipping out her phone. “We’re getting a licensed expert’s help!”

“Lizzy, that’s a little extreme.” you laughed. 

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll make this more special for you! If you look good, you’ll feel good! The party is at this guy’s HUGE house, and he’s pretty popular, so there’ll probably be a lot of people there. It won’t hurt to step it up a little.” 

“Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress. Jeans are an essential.”

“You’re gonna wear a skirt then!”


“Just a little sweep of highlighter…. and…. done!” Nana smiled, setting down her makeup brush. “Go ahead and take a look!”

You walked over to your full length mirror. “Oh wow…”

Nana certainly was a miracle worker. The makeup wasn’t overdone, it was tasteful and refreshing, with peachy blush over dewy skin, shimmery eye shadow, thin eyeliner over natural eyelashes, and a little touch of red in the center of your lips. Your curled hair was textured and accessorized with a teal head band tied into a bow. The cream colored skirt and floral top that Nana picked out was certainly pretty, but not an outfit that you would pick for yourself.

“Oh my goodness, good work Nana!” Lizzy encouraged, smiling at her friend. “My Y/N looks so alive, you’d never even know a break-up hit her!”

“Thank you Nana. I must say, you do have great taste!” you told her. “I’ve just gotta grab some shoes and then we can leave.“

“Let me help you with that.” Nana said following you into your closet. “No client of mine will wear converse to a party!”

“Oh my goodness, there’s Sooyoung, she’ll kill me if I don’t say hi!” Lizzy told you as you stood together in the corner of the crowded room. “I’ll be over there for a few minutes.” 

“No no no, Lizzy, don’t leave me!” you pleaded, but it was too late. She had abandoned you. An introvert’s stability relies on their extroverted friend being with them at every moment in new social situations. 

You looked around, gripping your cup in your hands. You took a sip to refresh your dry throat. God, you felt so awkward. You didn’t know anyone here.

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice said. You whipped your head around, letting your hair fall over your shoulder. A tall and attractive man stood in front of you. You quickly examined his appearance. He looked really soft, but handsome at the same time. He had a friendly smile and bright eyes, which went well with his nude sweater and jeans ensemble. “I’m Chanyeol by the way.”

His warm vibe made you feel like it was okay to talk to him about your true feelings. “If I’m being honest, I’d rather be enjoying a large pizza on my couch and watching a drama right now.” you sighed, looking at the ground. “And I’m Y/N.”

“Are large parties not your thing?” he asked. You took notice of how his eyes seemed to assure you that he sincerely cared about what you had to say. 

“Parties in general.” you told him, rolling your eyes. “They’re really dumb. Everyone crowded in one place making meaningless small talk over cups of beer.”

“Really?” he inquired, still looking interested in your conversation. “I love parties. Free food, new friends, fun times…”

You scoffed. “Oh come on. Look at this place, I get dragged out my house and get dressed up all nice and what am I offered? Generic corn chips and pretzels.”

He gave you a smirk. “So you don’t like it here?”

“I mean sure, its really cool big house, but I don’t see how people have such good fun here. I don’t feel anything but awkward.”

“How can you feel awkward with all these people here with you?” He asked, smile still wide on his face. He had a certain glint in his eyes, which confused you.  

“You must not be an introvert.” you told him, looking in his warm brown eyes. “I’m wearing a skirt and frilly top when I’d rather be in comfy jeans and a two sizes too big t-shirt. Gosh, everyone can probably tell how out of place I am…”

“I don’t think so.” he told you with a small smile and a caring sparkle in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else than right here, with me.”

You blushed, opening your mouth to continue talking to him, but were stopped by a hand placed on your shoulder. You turned around to see your best friend’s familiar face.

“Oh good, you two have met!” Lizzy exclaimed, glancing from you to Chanyeol. “Y/N, this is the host of the party!” 

All the color drained from your face as you widened your eyes. You gulped, slowly looking back at him. 

“I must say Y/N, you’re unlike any other girl that’s walked through the doors of my house.” he smirked, walking away from your corner of the room. “Quite a mystery…” and with that he exited the room.

You smacked your palm on your forehead.

“Y/N, what the heck happened between you two?” Lizzy exclaimed, looking back and forth between you two.

“Oh, not much. I just ranted for ten minutes about how much I hated his party.”

So for the remainder of the night, you stayed attached to Lizzy’s hip, fearing another doomed social interaction. The party went just as you expected. Aimlessly wandering into different rooms to talk to strangers about work and school, cars and bills, you know, adult stuff. You watched others get drunk as they participated in games, shuffled through a lit up dance room, avoided getting hit by the beer pong ball, and as a cherry on top, almost got bulldozed by a passionate couple making out on the couch you were sitting on. Yeah, a real fun time. 

“Can we go now?” you pleaded, throwing another cup of punch away. 

“I guess I’ve forced you to be around people long enough.” she chuckled. You both linked arms and began to make your way towards the door. 

“Wait!” someone yelled out. You looked over your shoulder to see him again. Chanyeol.

“Oh…” you started. “Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier, you really did have a nice party, it’s just that I’m-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he interrupted you. 

You almost choked on your own spit. “Um, I, ah, I just-”

“She does not actually, she’s single.” Lizzy finished for you, smiling at Chanyeol in happiness. 

He smiled, looking at the ground. “Do you want to go out with me sometime then?” 

“But… I thought you said I was too different than all the other girls you knew… a mystery…” you stuttered, furrowing your brows.

“Yes… different than all the fake girls who put on false smiles and try to get with me for my popularity… God forbid a human being honest and not afraid to tell a random stranger who they really are. Plus…” he leaned in really close and looked into your eyes with a smile. Just when you were about to touch, he slapped a piece of paper in your hand. “I like mysteries.” He gave you a quick wink and then turned around and walked back into the crowd.

You stared at his back in disbelief. “What the actual heck just happened…”

“I’ll tell you what…” Lizzy said, smiling at you. “You just got that guy’s number! I guess it’s a good thing I forced you out of the house!”

On the walk back home, you smiled to yourself as you thought of the guy that was interested in you. His cute smile, his shining eyes, his warm and caring nature…

Lizzy was right. Just when you thought nothing good would come in your life… that you were so hurt that you would never be able to see anyone ever again… you met him. Fate took your crappy heart break, and gave you a bright, shining, new opportunity.

It was at that moment that you realized that you can’t ever give up on everything based on one mistake…. just like a baker doesn’t give up when the pie isn’t perfect, and a writer doesn’t quit because of one period of writer’s block… you couldn’t give up on loving people because one hurt you. And that’s really something every human should know.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this scenario :-) Chanyeol is seriously killing me with that cotton candy hair! *insert heart eyes emoji* Requests are always open!


-Marie 💗

anonymous asked:


This. I can’t believe I did this. Basically 10k, and apparently I torture myself for fun. I bled for this thing like some Grecian slave about to get whipped by his master, good god, and I’m still not happy with it, but it’s done, and it’s out. I hope you enjoy. I really, really hope you do.

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.

“There have been cases where patients have died, yes.”

You can still envision the doctor’s face, drawn and tired as he delivered your diagnosis to you in an empty room that smelled of man and disinfectant. The first hint you’d received was how the doctor had handed you your new medication with the ease of a thousand-day’s repetition, and you knew you weren’t rare at all.

Looking none the worse for wear, you had made your way out of the flooded hospital feeling no more important than you were when you had entered.

Having this disease- having any disease- made work difficult, certainly. The punctures in your skin were awkward to explain at first, but your co-workers had gotten over their steadfast suicide prevention printouts when they had accidentally opened the door to your office one afternoon to find you keeled over and suffocating. The injection packets carefully placed in a drawer at your desk had transformed into a lifesaver in that instant, from its prior purpose for reminding you how damaged you are. And after you had taken the afternoon off to save everyone from the trauma of having to make eye contact with you for the rest of the day, they hadn’t bothered you about it since.

Keep reading

The Knight's Return

AN: Hi! It’s been awhile, so I hope this (rather long) drabble makes up for it a bit. I wrote it instead of working on my WIPs… (I do feel rather guilty about that). Anyway, it’s a Sherlolly Medieval-ish AU that has all the makings of a cheesy romance plot…I have no regrets. 

The entire kingdom was abuzz with excitement as the morning of the royal wedding dawned. Bakers and chefs were rushing about preparing the food for the enormous celebration feast and seamstresses and tailors were rushing to put the final touches on gowns and shirttails alike.

The castle servants were rushing about putting the final touches on the decorations and making sure each room was prepared for their guests.

Even the king and queen were a bit manic in their excitement, trying to oversee it all while welcoming their once-enemy kingdom’s royal family. Soon to be intertwined by their children’s union.

Yes, everyone was looking forward to the wedding.

Except, as it happens, the bride-to-be.


The princess leaned out her window and looked down upon the crowd below as the unfamiliar black carriages bearing the insignia of her future husband’s royal crest rolled inside the gates.

Her stomach roiled in fear and despair and she grasped tightly the ring that hung on a silver chain around her neck, praying for deliverance from whomever would grant it.

She had never met her betrothed and she was enraged that her parents had signed a contract of marriage without her consent. And to promise a wedding within 3 weeks of the agreement?! 

Call her romantic or fantastical, but she wanted to marry for love. To choose the man she would spend the rest of her life with, the man she would rule beside one day, overseeing their joined kingdoms.

She didn’t want to marry a stranger.

She wanted to marry her knight.

Her Sherlock. A knight as brave and honorable as she had ever met. She had give her heart to him almost as soon as he’d knelt before her father and sworn his fealty to the crown.

In only a matter of months, she found herself sneaking out of the grounds to meet him in the forest, their whispered words of devotion fading into the moonlit night. With a promise of love, he had given her a ring, crafted by his hand from the links of his armor.

‘So you know that wherever I am, a part of me will always be with you.’

But their time was precious and fleeting, for not a month after their first declaration, Sherlock was lost in battle against an uprising contingent. Molly remembered the devastating day the knights came back, bloody and exhausted, their victory marred by painful losses.

She had rushed out to meet them, ignoring her father’s order to stay back. She walked between the rows of knights, straining for any sign of her beloved Sherlock.

As the men thinned, she grew fearful. And then she saw John, Sherlock’s right hand and best friend. His face was pale and drawn. He caught her gaze and shook his head once.

Her heart had died that day.


The door to her chambers opened.

‘My lady, it’s time.’

Molly acknowledged Sir John’s announcement with a nod and tucked the ring into her gown. Unable to bring herself to smile, she accepted his arm silently and allowed him to lead her out.

Outside, the people were cheering and celebrating. But inside, the castle was as solemn as a tomb. Every servant was in attendance at the throne room, each knight and guest as well. Following weeks of endless preparation, it felt oddly calming to walk the stone halls in silence.

But each step closer to her bridegroom felt like a piercing betrayal to her love.

They paused outside the closed doors, behind which her future waited. Sir Gregory stood at attention, waiting for the signal of the bells to open the doors.

‘Do you ever think about him?’

Sir John stiffened slightly. 'My lady, surely today is not the day to dwell on-’

'Just answer the question,’ she interrupted quietly.

He sighed. 'Every day.’

'I wish…’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it, the words catching in her throat.

Sir John hesitated a moment before quietly admitting, 'If he were alive, you would most certainly not be wedding anyone else.’

Molly felt tears fill her eyes and she stopped to kiss John’s cheek. 'Thank you.’

'My loyalty will always be sworn to you, my lady. And I will always be there to protect you.’

Molly smiled for the first time that day. Turning back toward the waiting ceremony room, she braced herself. 'Then let us do our duties. For the kingdom.’

Sir John admired her courage and willingness to marry for the sake of her kingdom. But he cursed fate for tearing her true love away from her so cruelly.

‘For the kingdom,’ he agreed.

The bells rang out the hour and Sir John stepped forward to open the door to the throne room, Sir Gregory doing the same on the other side.


Every eye was watching as she walked toward the priest, her head held high. She kept her eyes locked on the cross hanging in the center of the priest’s chest. Beside him, with his back to her, was the prince. She avoided looking at him, knowing that if she did, she would abandon all hope of courage and flee.

She drew up to his side and accepted his arm as they knelt on the long cushion before the priest, his pristine white gloves stitched with black thread.

'We are gathered to witness not only the union between Princess Molly and Prince William, but the uniting of two kingdoms. Once feuding, now coming together as one.’

Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. She could feel the warmth emanating from beside her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Not when she desperately wished he was another man.

All too soon, Molly found herself promising herself to this stranger before God and man, for the good of their kingdoms. 'I solemnly swear so to do.’

And then the priest turned to Prince William, putting the same questions to him.

'I solemnly swear so to do.’

Molly’s heart stopped. That…it couldn’t be.

She slowly, hesitantly, turned her head. Staring back at her was a dead man, brought to life. She gasped as she took in the shorn curls, the tan of his angular face, and the unabashed love shining in his blue green eyes.

'Sherlock,’ she breathed in wonder.

He lifted her hand to his lips and smiled tenderly down at her. 'As if I would let something as ridiculous as death stop me from letting you marry anyone else.’

The priest was still speaking over them, but Molly cared not one wit for what he was saying. Instead, she pulled her knight, her beloved, into a kiss that went far in healing the pain of the two years they’d spent apart.

Behind them, their parents wiped tears from their eyes, their feud forgiven, as the crowd cheered.

'I love you,’ she whispered thickly when they broke apart. She couldn’t stop touching him, her hands caressing his tear-struck cheeks, taking in her resurrected love. 'I love you so much. But how could you have let me think- let us all believe-’

She pressed her fists into his chest in anger.

'A story that can wait for another day, my love,’ he promised, gathering her hands in his, and ran his gaze over her face as if she were a precious work of art. 'Today, let us celebrate the fact that a mission of intended espionage brought us together.’

Molly looked at him in question, but let it go when he kissed her once again.

The priest chuckled. 'Shall we consider the ceremony nearing its end and adjourn to the celebration posthaste?’

Laughter met his question and he quickly wrapped up with the announcement of the bride and groom. Quickly placing their new crowns atop their heads, the colors of their kingdoms woven together in metals of gold and black, the priest stepped back and announced to all who could hear:

'Long live the Prince and Princess. May their years of marriage be blessed.’

Sherlock helped Molly to her feet and they turned to face their people, hand in hand. 

‘And may they be many,’ Sherlock added softly, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. 


This was most definitely not how Molly ever imagined her wedding day. It was almost like a dream. 

The breeze blew through the room and she shivered, drawing her robe around her as she stared out into the starry night. 

Behind her, the door opened and her husband entered. She turned and tears filled her eyes at the sight of him. His tunic and boots abandoned in the outer chamber, he sauntered into the room in only his trousers and crown. His curls were browner than she remembered and he’d cut them close to his head, no longer dangling in front of his eyes. She hoped to convince him to grow it out once more.

‘I am most definitely glad that Sir John is on our side… for the most part,’ he grumbled, touching the tender bruise rising on his cheek. When she didn’t speak, he looked up at her in question.


She swallowed thickly. ‘I just still cannot believe you’re here,’ she whispered. 

‘I promise,’ he said, closing the distance between them. ‘I will never leave you again.’

Resting her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, she asked, ‘Will you not tell me why you let me believe you dead for these past torturous years?’

He sighed and rested his chin atop her head. ‘I was sent into your kingdom as a spy. No one would suspect the crown prince to take up such a role. It was when I saw you standing there as I knelt to take that oath of knighthood, that I realised you could put my entire mission in jeopardy.’


‘Yes, you.’ He leaned back and smiled at her. ‘And you did. Instead of gathering information, I found myself falling in love with you. By the time of my pre-planned extraction, I was prepared to do everything in my power to bring peace between our kingdoms. So I could be with you.’

‘Your extraction?’ 

His lips twisted. ‘The battle in which I supposedly was left for dead. I was only supposed to fake my death. But something went terribly wrong and I was taken in the chaos. I eventually escaped, but not without being grievously injured.’ He turned around and she gasped at seeing the ugly scar that crossed his back, from the top of his right shoulder and down to his left hip. The extent of the scarring testified to the severity of his wound. Molly reached out and trailed her finger along the jagged skin. 

‘Oh, Sherlock,’ she breathed. 

He turned back around and caught her hands. ‘Never you mind. I’m here, I’m well, and our kingdoms are at peace.’

Still struggling to make sense of it all, Molly latched on to a single thought. ‘So my parents knew who you were when they agreed to the wedding?’

'Of course,’ he chuckled. ‘It took some time to convince my parents to meet with yours without risking bloodshed. But once I confessed that we had fallen in love, everything else fell into place. They would rather see us happy, merging our kingdoms into one with as many heirs as we will give them, than continue wasting lives, time and resources fighting a feud that neither side remembers what it is even about.’

Molly smiled in wonder. ‘And about time.’

Sherlock agreed. ‘Indeed, but enough about that. I believe we were married today.’

‘Yes, yes we were.’ She smiled widely, her arms coming up and around his neck, as he leaned down to kiss along her jaw. ‘And about time.’

He laughed against her skin and she closed her eyes, wanting to remember this feeling of pure joy forever.

‘Now, my lovely wife, we have the rest of our lives to look forward to. And I fully intend to make up for every moment of heartbreak I’ve caused you.’ 

He started backing toward the luxurious bed, his hand trailing down her arm only to catch her hand and pull her with him. She laughed softly and followed all too willingly.

‘You’re doing a wonderful job already, my love.’


And so the two kingdoms became one. And upon the ninth month of their marriage, the Prince and Princess welcomed the first of what would be their four children. 

And they all lived happily ever after.

Preference 17: He dresses you up

Guyssss I finally had the time to write another entry to post here in tumblr. And yeah, I also finally wrote another preference bc I feel bad and all that I write is Brad imagines from requests xD. So here I am with the AC on, me in my Pikachu onesie (YEP) and writing this on my laptop, with a glass of pineapple juice on my side desk. Okay idk why did I just told you all of that…anyways here’s another preference.


“Wheeen will you eeever finish?” Connor exclaimed, plopping himself down on the bed with his arms held out. You laughed quietly. You and Con were invited to a birthday party by one of your friends who lives three hours away. Yes, what a long drive. Better get me some of that setting spray, Jeffree Star.

“I haven’t even got out my clothes yet, babe.” You purposely said, torturing him more. He let out a loud grunt which made you chuckle and followed with a laugh. “Stop laughing oh my god!” he throws his head back on the mattress.

“I mean it’s your fault finishing up so early. It’s like…still—“

“It’s freaking 10:48 AM and we need to get going at eleven and by two we need to be there!” he exclaimed, sitting up and ran his hand on his hair. Lol. “You know what, I’m gonna pick up your outfit myself.” What. “What?!” “You heard me. Since you’re still drawing a, uh, outline…yeah, outline on your lips and you still need to do your hair, I will be picking out clothes for you, mademoiselle.” You sighed. You actually need help right now but you’re not going to show it. “Sure, Connor. But can I trust you though?”

“Oh you better. Because once I’m done clawing through your clothes, you’ll look amazing on what I chose an I’ll be proud of myself when I look at you because, hell, I did that.” You scoffed and smiled at the same time. “Go ahead.” You gestured for him to go inside your closet and pick out the outfit, which he excitedly obliged.

After you’ve completely done your makeup and curled your hair, you checked inside the closet to see what’s going on. “Oh good Lord.” You whispered as you saw a the outfit laid down, across the little circular seat in the middle, with a pair of shoes on the side. “I know, pretty amazing right?” he chuckled to himself. “I must say, this is not bad.” You held out a white, floral Fawn Floyd dress, a pink bomber jacket, with your white flats. “I know, I know, I’m amazing and all with you staring at the outfit I’ve put together and yes I’m the best boyfriend okay but you seriously need to get ready now.” He jokes while putting his hand on his chest. You rolled your eyes playfully and receiving a kiss from him on the cheek. “Thank you baby, seriously.”

“No worries.” He replied while grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you once again for a kiss now on the lips.


“It’s one of those days again, Brad!” you shouted loudly enough so Brad can hear you from the living room. You immediately heard his footsteps getting closer to your shared bedroom and entering with a slightly confused face. “You have your, um, monthly p—“

“No! It’s not that!” You immediately cut him off before he could continue his sentence. “I don’t know what to wear…and that really leads to you picking out clothes for me, right?” You reminded him. This, situation, started when the both of you were going to his parents’ house for dinner and you didn’t know what to wear. You were stuck between keeping it casual but a bit classy and just classy. So he helped you eventually, and that became a thing. Its really been a long time since you’ve let him chose your clothes to wear, but today the both of you are going to Nat’s graduation (a/n let’s pretend guys cmon) and are going to have a little party after, and you need clothes to wear, obviously, so why not let him give you a hand

“I’m in that situation again, babe. Should I wear jeans or not?”

“Nah, I think you should wear a dress of some sort or something…” he slowly says while opening your closet. You see, most boys would be annoyed if their girlfriends ask the question of, “What should I wear?!” while already whining, but thanks to baby Jesus, Brad does not. He even helps you to pick out an outfit; what a good boyfriend he is, isn’t he?

“Well, I’ve got these pair of shoes, and I really like to wear them today. D’you that can help?” I say while holding up a white strappy-heeled sandals for him to see. He looked at it and back at me and smiled. “You really make my job much easier, Y/N.” You squealed and went up to him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much baby. You’re the best.” You mumbled against his skin with a smile. He replied with nothing but a kiss on the corner of your lips. He continued to scramble through your closet, having second thoughts about dresses he lifts up then putting it back on the rack.

A few minutes later he comes up to you while closing the closet with his feet, a dress having in hand. “Here—I think this goes well with that…I think.” He hands you this maroon, one-fourth-sleeved dress that ends right above on your knees with a zipper on the back. “Wow, I haven’t worn that in a while..” you whispered as you un-zipped the dress. “I know. I’ve been seeing that just hanging in there without you touching it while your choosing your clothes and just ignoring it.” He shrugs. You laugh while thanking him once again while undressing to your bra and undies, hiding from him but he wasn’t approving so you just basically stripped in front of him. You slipped your dress on with the help of him zipping up the back. “I think it’s my turn to pick out your clothes, huh?” You asked jokingly. “Now’s not the time, babe.” He said, but he clearly wanting to say, never.


“Thanks for coming, baby.” Tristan whispered on your ear while kissing your cheek after. “This thing better be good, Tris. I ditched my cousins’ birthday party.” You chuckled while fixing your hair up in a bun, getting ready to put on your makeup.

“Whatever, I think she doesn’t like you anyway.”

“Well…true.” You agreed.


“Tris, can you please get me my clothes from downstairs? I think I left it laying on the couch or something.” You asked while finishing up your makeup. He stood up from the bed behind you and walking to exit the door, “Thanks babe.”

A minute later he comes up back to the room, holding up the clothes you picked, laying on his hand while a sort of, confused face plastered on him. “What?”

“Are you seriously wearing a red dress and four and a half inched heels on a The Vamps rehearsal?” he asked, letting me see the clothes I have chosen for myself. You were offended at first, but also slapping yourself mentally for actually picking those clothes out. Of course you don’t wear a freaking thigh high dress and high heels to a concert, what the fuck. He puts the clothes back on the closet and walks over to you, putting the both of his hands in front of you, on the table, while towering his figure over you. “I’ll choose.”

“What?! My clothes? -chuckles- No way, Evans.” You snapped, standing up and opening the closet again. But he was fast enough to block you so his back was covering the clothes to choose from. “C’mon, just this time. Please? Trust me.” He begged. “You’re just gonna play games about it again.” You sassed, crossing your arms. “Noooo! I won’t! I promise, I promise.” He pleaded once again, pressing his hands together. You gave in, “Fine. Go ahead.” He let out a soft “Yaay!” while turning around and started to rummage inside your closet. You sighed and made yourself company and putting all of your makeup back in the bag and fixing your hair.

Minutes go by and he already handed me two items of clothing; black skinny jeans and an off the shoulder white top. “Ooooh!” You grabbed the outfit from his hands and looked at him in amusement. “See, I told you.” He said almost proudly. You laughed softly and thanked him. “And oh—“ he pointed to your black ankle boots, “Wear those too.” Was the last thing he said then walked out of the room so you can change. You smirked and shook your head to yourself, “I love how he acts like some kind of professional or something.” You laughed.


“Hmm…baby, I wanna dress you up.” He whispered into your skin, kissing your shoulder very delicately. You sighed into his touch, closing your eyes. “But baby, why d’you wanna do that?” you asked, pulling him away and looking straight at him. “I mean, aren’t we going to the shopping centre later? I want to look at you and remind myself that I dressed you up.” He chuckled at the end. You shake your head jokingly at his foolishness. “Okaaaay…—“

“Yay!” He cheered.

“But can I trust you though?” You pointed a finger at him and he just grinned and then winked in reply. You swear you think you just melted. “Okay then, come on.” You jumped out of bed with him behind you and you led him to your closet. You opened the doors and his eyes grew wide. “Okay I swear you only swear skinny jeans and a shirt on a day to day basis but, hell, I didn’t know you had this much clothes.” He admitted. You shrugged your shoulders and replied, “Well, I mean, I know, but you asked for it.” You heard his huff slightly besides you and forcing yourself not to let out a chuckle. “Come on now, love. We don’t have all day to choose clothes, now do we?” He didn’t reply. “Well, while you do that, I’ll just take a wee and do my makeup slightly.” You said while running to the bathroom, leaving him there to decide what you’re gonna wear. You trusted him, you knew that.

You decided that after you went to wee, you’ll go straight to putting on some makeup and keep the outfit he made a secret to yourself. Plus, he will have more time. You started putting on some primer then a thin layer of foundation, concealer and some powder to add some color on your face. You added some contour, eyebrows then eyeliner, and lastly some mint flavored chapstick. You fixed your hair up into a fishtail braid and then finally, you went outside.

Your lips already parted slightly and your brows were raised up to the sight of James holding up the outfit that he chose, proudly.

A white sundress with red roses prints in them and a denim jacket, with your white Chelsea boots placed just in front of the doorway. “I know we’re just going to do some groceries, but I think we should all dress up like it’s our last day here on earth.” He winked at the end, while dropping the clothes on the bed and walking over to you and giving you a kiss on the forehead. “I swear, McVey, if you don’t stop with all these quotes I’m gonna flip.” You shook your head but then grabbing the dress first to put it on. “Well, uh, I mean,” he brushed his hair with his hands, “Life’s just a whole big quote, isn’t it?” “Oh my God.” You both laughed.

Soon enough later you’ve got changed, and James couldn’t help but to stare at his masterpiece. He fulfilled his promise to himself; to look at Y/N and say that, “I dressed her up, my work of art.”

P.S: not spellchecked so sorry if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes that you may have encountered. 

Chaos Reigns Chapter 33- Affirmation

Trigger Warnings: Language, firearms, domestic disputes, smut mcsmut smut

Oh fuck those eggs are not sitting well, I think to myself as we sit around after breakfast. Joker’s gotten up, showered and dressed, before we reconvene to discuss where to go from here. Arkham was in shambles and God knows the finger was going to get pointed at me for blowing it, but surely by now they know this is not how I roll?

“CC?” Joker pulls my attention back to him, looking to me confused, “You ok, doll?”

“Mmm, my stomach is upset, anyone else’s eggs taste funny?” I ask the room. Everyone shakes their head no so I shrug my shoulders, before returning to the issue at hand. When Yari walks in.

“Honey, we got a problem. GCPD is out for you, they’re loyal hound Officer Gordon is back in town and isn’t too happy with what’s gone down. He’s coming to haul your ass in.” Well that puts a dampener on my mood… I sit in silence trying not to hurl my stomach contents up with a pout on my lips.

“You’re not going in.” Joker says, running his hand along my thigh in a show of comfort and support, taking a massive inhalation through my nose, I let it out as I speak.

“They don’t have anything on me, do they Yari?” He sits on the desk in front of J and I. He shakes his head.

“No sweetie, those security cam’s didn’t work allll night.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, “You ok CC? You looking a bit green around the gills there.” He queries and it’s enough to make me realise these eggs are not staying down.

“Nope!” Is all I manage before I do a mad dash to the bathroom, where breakfast makes its reappearance. I hear Yari behind me laughing, saying he’s got this, before he comes in to hold my hair out of the way.

Keep reading

quicklikelight: Think about Danny doing random room checks and walking in on Scott kissing a boy. And suddenly, Danny really wants to be the boy Scott McCall is kissing.


Danny fumbles over whatever he was about to say and backs out of the room before either Scott or his gentleman caller can react. Except he doesn’t do it so quickly that he misses Scott’s slow, deliberate lick of his lips, just a casual little post-kiss self grooming that umm. Does things. To Danny.

Who beats a hasty retreat to his room, where he stands in the center of it, frozen while his mind mentally revises years worth of interaction with his former classmate. Then, in a move worthy of neither his IQ nor his education, he dials Jackson on his phone.

Look, everyone has their own unique ways of self-sabotaging. Some people skip class. Some people party more than they should. Danny asks Jackson for advice. It is what it is. 

“What?” Snaps a groggy voice, answering the phone. Which is Jackson speak for ‘hello, I missed you.’

“Scott McCall kissing boys is a thing. Why didn’t you tell me Scott McCall kissing boys was a thing?” Danny demands in response. It isn’t really code for anything.

“You’re saying words, and I feel like I’m expected to know what they mean, but I don’t,” Jackson yawns. “Also, I don’t care. Can this wait until you’re coherent? When answering, keep in mind that I don’t care.”

“Scott McCall goes to UC Davis now. He lives in my dorm. I just walked in on him with his tongue down another guy’s throat. This is highly relevant information that would have been really helpful to know, there was that monosyllabic enough for you?”

“You started strong but then it got away from you at the end,” Jackson drawls. Faint pew-pew sounds from the other end of the line convey that he’s not paying this conversation the attention it deserves, and he still has terrible taste in video games. “Still not seeing the part that makes any of this something I care about. What’s your point?”

“My point is how come you never told me Scott was into guys? Aren’t you supposed to be able to smell that or something?“ 

“Maybe if I’d ever sniffed his underwear or something,” Jackson verbally rolls his eyes. “You realize I only ever got the Cliff Notes version of the How To Werewolf Good manual, and weirdly enough, how to smell where your loser classmate points his boner wasn’t a chapter heading anywhere in it.”

“Maybe I’d realize that if you ever bothered to tell me about any of this stuff. Instead of having to figure it out for myself while I was DATING a werewolf…”

“Oh my god how many times do I have to say I’m sorry - ”

“Once would make a good start.”

“Look, we’re never going to get anywhere on that front. Mistakes were made,” Jackson says magnanimously. No, its actually a hell of a concession, coming from him. And people wonder why Danny now has an actual, honest to god vetting process when making new friends. “Seriously though, what’s the big deal? So McCall looks both ways before crossing the street. Who cares? You’ve never been into gossip before.” 

“I never knew Scott McCall kissing boys was an option before,” Danny all but yells into the phone. “I now have to reevaluate every single time I’ve ever spoken to him….do you even know how many of those times might have been him hitting on me, in light of this new information? I don’t even know because I can’t count that high and I can count pretty goddamn high, Jax.”

“We’ve both been hit on by losers before, Danny. It’s not the end of the world. You’ll survive.”

“Why are you being like this? We both know that you’re not actually as oblivious as you pretend to be. There’s no possible way you missed that I’ve had a crush on him since sixth grade.”

“No, I noticed. I was just hoping if I ignored it, it’d go away. Like gum on the bottom of your shoe.”

“That’s not a thing that happens Jackson. Ignoring gum on your shoe doesn’t magically de-gum the shoe.”

“How the fuck would I know that? I don’t step on gum, it would ruin my shoes. It was a metaphor. Jesus.”

“Stop it.” Danny places a palm to his forehead, reflects on two decades of poor decision making, beginning with befriending Jackson on the playground first day of kindergarten. "Stop doing your WASP-y Whittemore boilerplate evasion tactic thing where you piss me off until I hang up on you, hold a grudge for several days and forget what I originally called you about by the next time we talk. This is happening. Me having a thing for your high school nemesis or whatever is a thing, him kissing a boy is a thing, and you getting on board and helping me is a thing so get on board, Jackson or so help me god -”

“I most certainly will not,” Jackson hisses dramatically. Its times like things where you can really tell the whole ‘he used to be part snake’ thing. “I have standards, and I won’t be party to some path-”

“I am cashing in my chips,” Danny hisses back equally dramatically, and he may not have ever been part snake but goddammit two musical theater electives have got to count for something.

“What chips?”

“ALL THE CHIPS Jackson. All the chips from being your friend and putting up with your shit for year after endless year and never asking for anything in return other than the occasional wingman at the Jungle and okay, you know what, so I do ask you for stuff and you’re not actually as terrible a friend as everyone assumes but there has still been some shit and I most definitely have chips and I am cashing them in, so here’s what’s going to happen.”

Dead air reigns. Then. Begrudgingly. As though being tortured: “I’m listening.”

“You are going to call Lydia,” Danny intones, holding up a finger that Jackson can’t possibly be expected to see, but he feels powerful, intoning while holding up that finger so he decides to stick with it. “You are going to apologize for the many, many things you have yet to apologize to her for. You are going to make it good so she doesn’t just hang up on you. You are going to grovel. And then, when she’s been entertained enough that she’s willing to listen to your obvious ulterior motive for finally calling her out of the blue after all this time, you are going to find out everything she knows about Scott McCall kissing boys. How long has he been kissing boys? How many boys has he kissed? Ballpark, I don’t need hard data points. Is kissing boys just a euphemism for other physical interactions with boys or the sum of his experience?”

He pauses for breath and Jackson seizes the moment.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just slip her a note that says ‘Does Scott like Danny? Check the box for yes or draw a frowny face for no.”

“I fucking hate you so much, I swear to god.”

“I’m just saying, I feel like you were less pathetic when you were actually twelve years old, and you were a pretty pathetic twelve year old.”

“I hope were-cheetahs eat your face.”


“Where the fuck did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” Danny sighs. “Look I’m in a very strange headspace right now. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Can you just do this for me? Please?”

“Fine,” Jackson draws out through obviously gritted teeth. “I want it on record though, I’m doing this under extreme protest.”

“Noted. Irrelevant.”

“Just saying. He’s beneath you.”

“Not yet, but give it til the end of the semester.”

“Eww. If I do this, you have to promise not to disgust me with references to McCall’s anatomy or anything you might do with him.”

“Too late. Negotiations are over, you missed your window.”

“Ugh, dammit. You suck.”

“And thanks so much for helping to facilitate my sucking of your most hated -”

“You’re such a shithead. I hate your guts. Don’t die because of werewolf drama, I’ll call you when Lydia tells me something worth passing along and I swear to god you better not be waiting by the phone when I do.”

“Aww, see you do care,” Danny manages to get in gleefully before a click announces Jackson’s hasty departure.

He flops onto his bed like the pathetic twelve year old he is, and wonders if they still made the line of Armani aftershave he wore while in high school. He was pretty sure Scott liked that one.

Plus its not like he can be accused of waiting by the phone when he’s out buying aftershave, now can he?

Obviously not.

anythingbutregular2  asked:

I really like your rants! They point out things I either missed and/or it's been so long that I don't remember it accurately. While I love your art, reading your ideas is just as refreshing! On that note, what is your opinion of spottedleaf (I haven't read spottedleafs wish but apparently it was really really bad)?

Thank you, I’m really happy to hear that. ^^ I admit, I do get nervous, like sometimes after making a rant I’m so “now I’m going to get hate, now I’m going to get hate” I’m just a little paranoid like that, I’ve always hated the thought of saddening anyone, hehe. So getting this sort of feedback is like a gift. 

As for Spottedleaf… oh dear. I have a lot of opinions on Spotty, and not all very good. I have -not- read Spottedleaf’s Heart, and I have no plans of ever touching it either, first of all because I want to spare myself the pain, and because I do not wish to read such a mangled piece of canon. Secondly, as an adult I am astonished the book was even published, given that its plot was very much not child-friendly, and should never have been accepted by HarperCollins in the first place. I could go on but this deserves its own rant so I’ll lay off for a moment. 

But ahem, I digress. Back to Spottedleaf herself. My opinion on her is about as parted as it is with Ashfur’s. 

… I’m gonna add a keeping reading link here cuz this turned into a real sermon. uwu;

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Malfoy was a kid, socialized since birth by death eater parents, and grew up as his parents expected of him. Snape was not. He chose to be a wizard nazi.

You’re right - Snape was not socialized by a Death Eater family because, wait, he wasn’t socialized by anyone. He grew up alone, and he was probably beaten and resented and belittled on a daily basis, so, sure - that’s the ideal background for a good choice of who you want to be later in life. Abuse and neglect - the bedrock of free will, as I always say. And, yeah - I was talking more generally about the family, not Draco, because, like, you never see that kind of vitriol and righteous rage against Malfoy senior either, or Melania-like Narcissa, but it’s funny who we consider kids and who we want to be accountable at all times, right? Because sure, you could say Malfoy was just a kid, but didn’t Harry make precisely the same speech about Dumbledore? How Dumbledore had fallen in love with Grindelwald and gone along with his ideas to take over the world while Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were the exact same age, were off sleeping rough and fighting the literal Antichrist or something? And did you side with Hermione there? Did, like, anybody? Or even, you know, just a kid - every single week I see something about the Marauders, and how Snape was the creepiest creep to ever creep, because apparently we can forgive Draco ‘Best Hairstyle of the Year’ Malfoy for literally joining a death squad when he was fifteen and keeping his classmates in a cell so they could be killed by Voldemort and whatever else, but God forbid we had some compassion for 1970s!Snape, who’d grown up without any of Draco’s advantages - no chiseled profile, no money, no family name, no parents who gave a damn about him, no friends at all.

So, you know - I’m not defending Snape, exactly. If you follow my blog, you know I’m very clear on who Snape was, and there’s definitely no excuse for him terrifying his students and hating the hell out of Harry and refusing to even try and become a different person. He was a broken man, and his brand of broken made him a pretty awful person. But still - you can’t seriously deny that we are much less willing to criticize and hate villains when they’re good-looking and, if at all possible, members of the aristocracy. I’ve never heard a word against Loki, for instance, who single-handedly tried to destroy our planet twice and caused thousands of victims - I’m guessing the fact Tom Hiddleston is playing him counts for something? Same thing goes for Auror Graves, one of the most unsettling and disturbing characters in children movies ever, now the happy star of raunchy fanart with the (underage) kid he abused - because Colin Farrell, of course. And let’s not forget ‘He of the Tragic Past’ Erik Lehnsherr - I’m following several Cherik blogs myself and I’d probably give up a kidney for Michael Fassbender, so I don’t exactly have the moral ground here, but, again, I see more drooling than rational assessments where young!Magneto is concerned. And perhaps the funniest thing about all this is that it’s actually a theme in the Harry Potter books - that in The Chamber of Secrets, Snape is deliberately pitted against Lockhart so readers will take Lockhart’s side, mainly because, my God, look at him! - and then at the end the message is, Ha! Guess what! The ugly, oily teacher nobody can stand was actually innocent, and the Brad Pitt lookalike was ready to kill and maim three students just to get out on top.

So, yes - in the end, that’s what bugs me the most when I see this endless run of posts complaining about Snape - not only that he’s the only one they ever complain about, the only person held accountable in any way, but that so many people have apparently learned nothing from those books. The fact Harry named his son after both Snape and Dumbledore, two people who are deeply Problematic, was significant and moving and so, so beautiful. And instead of wondering what that means, and try to unpack that message, many are simply happy to bash Snape 24/7 (but not Dumbledore, never Dumbledore, despite the fact what Dumbledore did was, in a way, much worse than anything Snape could ever have done) and even complain JK Rowling disregarded Harry’s abuse at his hands or some shit. Like, uh?

And also: yes, Draco was a kid. He was also surrounded, day in and day out, by people and books he could have listened to - stuff that could have changed his mind, made him doubt his appalling beliefs (like, I don’t see much compassion on tumblr for teenagers who make memes for the alt right and hate on BLM and take part in KKK demonstrations, but maybe I don’t follow the right blogs?). He was scared and alone later in the books, sure, but he also preferred the option of killing another student rather than seeking asylum with Dumbledore. And also: he stood there and did nothing when people (a former teacher among them) were being tortured and killed in his family house; he barely reacted when Harry and the others were imprisoned in his dungeon and five minutes away from a messy death; he fought in the final battle - for the wrong bloody side. He snuck into the castle with the deliberate intent of killing Harry, and to the end, he never admitted he’d been wrong in any way, remember? After that Room of Requirement scene, he simply slumped against a wall, exhausted and unarmed and probably in shock, never offering a word of apology to anyone. So, whatever. Yes, he was a kid. He was also in a position to reconsider his life’s choices, much more so than Snape, who was also a kid when his destiny locked him in - and, unlike Draco, Snape was a dirty, badly dressed, unwanted working class kid and he grew up to be an unpleasant, angry, ugly adult and that’s why - despite his tragic past and the doomed love story thing and his wit and sarcasm and the fact he could actually fly - nobody gives a damn about him: because everybody is accountable, but some people are more accountable than others.


Daemon!The8 | 13 Days of SevenWeen

Word Count: 1950

Genre: Fluff, Angst

It was another usual day in the Underworld. The night sky looked like a whirl pool of red clouds and black stars; very typical of the season. Minghao was going about his usually duty, rowing a black wooden canoe through the murky waters of the Oceanus river.

Minghao was like a personal assistant to the god of the Underworld, Joshua. Though, daemons by nature are never referenced in art or literature, so Minghao scarcely received any credit for his hard work. But that didn’t stop Minghao from trying his hardest every day, he was a loyal employee of Joshua’s, and didn’t mind being in the background. However, that isn’t to say that Minghao never got curious about what life would be like if he were the center of attention. He wanted to know how it would feel for his existence to mean something, instead of just doing mediocre tasks for someone else.

Just as Minghao started to drift out of reality and into his own thoughts, the side of his canoe scraped against the river bank. Hastily rowing back to the center of the river, he pushed through his own boredom, as he was on his way to pick up Joshua and escort him to Mount Olympus.

It wasn’t often that Joshua met with the other gods, but when he had to, Minghao was always his chauffeur. Charon, the gatekeeper of the Underworld, was always the one who got the credit for that job, but as always, Minghao didn’t mind. Charon was the one who knew the rivers of the Underworld best, so Minghao could understand why people made that assumption. But if there was one river Minghao knew like the back of his hand, it was Oceanus.

Oceanus was the river that encircled the Underworld, separating it from the living world. If ever Minghao had a day off, he would aimlessly row down the river and fantasize about the living world. It intrigued him, but he never had the courage to enter it, until that fateful day.

The canoe bumped into the shore once more, and for some reason, it seemed like a cosmic sign to Minghao. He decided that it was finally time to explore the living world.

Abandoning the canoe and its paddle, Minghao took the river bank, starting towards the living world, and not looking back once. The border between the Underworld and the living world was like a warped, clear wall. Souls usually entered through the main gate, so the border wasn’t normally talked about. Minghao was seeing it for the first time. It looked like a window, but on the other side, everything was different. The clouds were white, the sky was blue, the grass was green. Minghao had never seen anything like it.

He took one stride through, and crossed over to the other side. Immediately, his ears were greeted by some kind of ringing sound. It sounded like a high-pitched squeak being repeated over and over again. He turned his head, to see that the sound was coming from a bird in a tree. Though, the bird was a strange red color, at least it was to Minghao, since only ravens and vultures can live in the Underworld.

Studying his surroundings once more, Minghao realized that he must’ve been in some kind of town. But, he’d never seen a town like this before. The buildings were different colors, flowers hung in baskets from the lamp posts, the sun illuminated everything and filled the air with an alien warmth. Minghao strolled around for a bit, admiring the beauty of everything, when all of sudden, he felt something bump into him.

“I’m so sorry.” He heard someone say.

Turning around to face the person he’d collided with, Minghao was immediately mesmerized when he saw your face.

“It’s fine.” He replied.

You sent him a grin, as a response to his acceptance of your apology. Your eyes were sparkling, cheeks plump and full of life. Minghao could only stare in awe.

“Are you okay?” You asked, noticing his blank gaze.

Minghao snapped out of it, to reply with, “Yes. Absolutely. I’m great.”

“That’s good,” You said, “You looked a bit lost there.”

“Actually, I am lost. I don’t know where I am and I don’t have any money.” He stated.

“Oh no. Well, do you know how you got here?” You asked.

“Yeah, I just-” Minghao turned around, to try to show you the border of the Underworld. But, as he saw that the border wasn’t visible, he realized that the only way to the Underworld from the living world is through the main gate. Or, by Joshua’s golden chariot, but no daemon has ever ridden in it.

“You what?” You asked, interrupting Minghao’s thought process.

Minghao scratched the back of his neck, contemplating a way to explain his predicament without confusing you.

“I, uh, I don’t remember. Looks like I’m stuck here now.” He said.

You felt sorry for him. He was lost, confused, broke, and admittedly very cute. You decided that it was the right thing to try and help him.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Minghao. And yours?”


“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you. So, there’s this really nice cafe down the street, I know this is quite sudden but if you want, I could get you something to eat. I just… Feel bad that you’re all alone here.”

“I’m fine. You really shouldn’t spend anything on me. But, I’d love to see more of this place.”

You happily obliged and began taking Minghao on a quick tour of the town, walking by all the major landmarks and interesting destinations. Along the way, the both of you talked quite a bit. Minghao was very endearing and genuinely fascinated by the town, and by you as it seemed. But, as he told you bits and pieces of his own life story, some of it didn’t seem to add up. Every few details he’d explain would just sound completely out of this world. Although, as the two of you finally sat together in the cafe, he revealed that it was because he truly was from another world.

“You’re what?” You asked in disbelief.

“A daemon.” He answered, chuckling slightly, as he didn’t anticipate such a strong response from you.

“What is that?”

“I’m basically like an assistant to the god of the Underworld. I take him places, tidy his palace, and arrange meetings with his council.”

“No offense, but that seems very mundane for someone living in the most eventful place in the universe.”

“None taken, because it is, but someone has to do it.”

“Well, do you still have time to do other cool stuff?”

“Not really, since I’m always busy. But even if I do have a day off, the Underworld is kind of boring. Sure there are people there who torture lost souls or practice witchcraft, but I’ve never really been in on that excitement.”

“But why? Don’t you want to do some of that?”

“I do, but, daemons aren’t really… What’s the right word for this… Important enough to do any of that stuff. I mostly just do my regular duties and keep to myself.”

“Hmm, well, I think your job sounds very important. Without you, council meetings would never happen, the palace would be a wreck, and no one would be able to get anywhere. You should give yourself more credit.”

Minghao paused for a moment, just smiling at what you said. It was the first time anyone had ever told him that he was important. And he could tell that you meant it too. The both of you became silent, but luckily, a waiter delivered two coffees to the table before the atmosphere became awkward.

“Try it,” You said, taking a sip of your own coffee, “I guarantee they don’t have anything like this in the Underworld.”

Obeying your order, Minghao picked up the drink before sniffing it a bit, then taking a gulp. His eyes widened at the strange, new taste.

“Woah,” He marveled, “This is great.”

“I knew you would like it.”

“You know, (Y/N), everything in the living world is so much nicer. And for the first time, I feel like I have a friend.”

“Aw, well, I’m glad I could be your first. But, your personality is so kind and humble, I’m also kind of shocked.”

Minghao tried not to get flustered. As he felt a blush coming on, he simply let out an airy chuckle. You blushed as well, wondering where the surge of confidence that led you to say that came from.

“(Y/N), I’m really thankful for you, and this whole experience. No matter if I’m stuck here forever or I somehow manage to get back to the Underworld, I’ll never forget today.” He said.

You smiled at his sincerity, feeling touched that he had so much thanks to give you. And as a result, Minghao felt a surge of confidence too, and reached for your hand across the table. You couldn’t tell if it was romantic or platonic, but Minghao was genuinely the sweetest, most enchanting person you’d ever met, either outcome would’ve been equally pleasant.

For the next couple of hours, you sat with Minghao, having no shortage of deep discussions. The level of interest between the both of you seemed to grow with every story, every joke, every exchange. There was no denying you were attracted to him by that point, and it was safe to say that the feeling was mutual.

As things began to wind down and the cafe started closing, the two of you took to the streets once more, and talked even more as you walked. Minghao was so intrigued by you, this time he hardly ever stopped to see his surroundings. But once he did, it was outside a shop that had reflective windows. He expected to see his own reflection, but when he looked into the glass, he saw none other than Joshua, gesturing for Minghao to come to him. In that moment, your phone rang, and paused to answer it. Minghao took the opportunity to go a little closer to the image of Joshua.

“Long story short,” Minghao whispered sharply, “I met this human that I really like. And I know you’re going to make me come back to the Underworld, but, let me just say goodbye first.”

“Listen, Minghao,” Said Joshua, “I was almost late for the council meeting today and Seungcheol nearly beheaded me in front of everyone. I can’t have this problem again. Plus,”

Joshua’s hand came out from the glass, to plant itself on Minghao’s shoulder, perhaps in an attempt to comfort him,

“Humans can never sustain romantic relationships with any being other than humans. It’s simply too complex for them. Besides, you can see this human again once they die, so their soul can live with us in the Underworld.”

Minghao took one last glance at you, relishing your beauty for a moment before turning back to the window. You were still on the phone, and Minghao didn’t want to disturb you, so Minghao scratched a small message to you in the corner of the window, before Joshua opened up the border and Minghao stepped through it for the last time.

Once he was back in the Underworld, Minghao could only reflect on what had happened, and tried to honor you by taking your advice. He gave himself more credit for the seemingly mundane but completely necessary work he did, and began feeling more important overall. He felt bad for leaving so hastily, but the message he left you really summed up everything he wanted to say:

‘Til death do us wait…

-Written by Admin Cali

Every Freaking year…. air conditioning out 96 on the sun, still 87 out at midnight… gah
I’m outta here.

Sweltering, the word itself was oppressive, hot, sultry, horrible, but somehow that didn’t even manage to cover it. Somehow airless, breathless, stifling, broiling, scorching, sizzling just did nothing to bring to bear the actual feel of this heat. Yes, we saw the news where it had said it was a heat wave, and yes as Murphy loved me so dearly of his flock that he never lost an opportunity to show me exactly what devotion he holds for me. Gods know that I never was one of those old southern ladies plied with talcum to the point they were pressed and powdered teacakes by the afternoon. I am certain that the gods had designed my people for the cold. So, this was very nearly hell on earth, 100 degrees in the shade, heat index pushing it into the 120s and there goes the manufactured cool air that I had come to rely on for life. I laid on my back, stripped down to a white tank top and a simple cotton pair of panties, literally trying to slow my heart to cool my body, the fan blowing past a frozen water balloon that only served to make the air feel like the heat wash coming from the oven when placing a cake on the baking rack. I know drama, drama, but every soul has that one place that the straw sticks.
I was sticky sweaty felt more like a brazed pork roast rather than human and there he goes Life himself with his god damned “Rise and shine. What a great run!” I rolled my eyes, I have made it readily clear that the only way I run is if something dangerous is chasing me and even then after about 100 yards I would make a deal with the psycho killer that I would stop if he made it quick. Those were regular days ON this day with his overly jolly trotting and motion I found myself literally nauseous,
“Good Morning?? Rise and shine?? Its moments like this darling that I think to myself HOW LUCKY DEAD SOULS ARE! Now back to Hades where you apparently belong.”
He laughed walking through the room on the way to the shower. If I were still living I would be watching, mouth watering as he walked while stripping for the shower, all I could do is roll to my stomach and try even harder to slow my heart and stop breathing. I had nearly drifted off to sleep when I felt that cold dripping water hit my back. I growl, yes, as I had said before had I been human I might have laughed, I might have enjoyed, but right now I was just grumpy. I roll to my side cocked up on my elbow. Oh what caught my eyes, took my breath, so apparently I was still a little bit human. There he stood wide shoulders broad chest dusted lightly with a manly fuzz. He shook his hair over me sprinkling again. He only wore a simple red towel bound around his hips, strong legs still dripping with cool water.
“I knew you couldn’t stay grouchy at me.” He leaned over me his body cool to the touch to set down a glass of Iced water.
He settled over me kissing my neck, the ice cube on his tongue causing my breath to shudder in my chest, it was shockingly cold I expected to see a trail of steam rise from my skin. “I suppose I won’t have to kill you, today.”
He kissed my lips stopping any other words. God, he could kiss any trouble away. “I have an Idea,” and without another word he pulled me from that hollow I had created in the bed and pushed me into his shower. I thought my heart was going to stop, I stood under the stream of water unable to move, shoulders hunkered. The noise coming from me was like a scream but not by expelling air but taking it in with great billows making the noise sound like a wahh. Wahh. wahh. “YOU son of a bitch,” I finally get out as he laughs holding the shower door closed, peeking over the top I saw his eyes how they went from taunting to interested in how exactly see through a white tank top got in cold water.
He pulled the door open letting his towel drop. “Oh my Honey, I had no idea.” That bastard one-sided smile was irritating and sexy. “Let me help you.” He pressed that warm body close to mine, the cold the warm I loved and hated every bit of each. He came in behind me, his hands naturally reaching around for my breasts, oh a perfect fit in his large hands. His thumbs slightly rough through the ribbing of my tank top across the very erect nipples. His lips sliding across the soft skin of my neck, causing me to make small Mewing noises. One minute ago I was cranky and mean and just wanted something to sulk about, but now, I was almost human and I was loving this.
His hands his lips soft and supple and the cool water after the shock had worn off was divine. I turned my head to lick and kiss his Adams apple, it bobbed as he swallowed. Then he spun me in his arms pressing my back to the shower wall the spray hitting us both on the side. He kissed my lips and hunkered pushing me higher on the wall, his muscled thigh finding its home wedged between my own, finally when we are eye to eye, his looking me over. He kisses me I tasted heaven on his lips I drank deeply my tongue lapping up the flavour.
He was delicious, god, did I want him. He kissed me long and deep I moved against him the friction doing delightful things where our bodies touched. He pulled away and watched a surge of electric passion wash over his features like an ocean wave.
His beautiful lips hung so close to mine as his hands slowly glided down my arms. He laced his fingers through mine, pulling them above my head kissing me again. His thigh moved deliciously thrilling me body and soul. A frenzy of butterflies tumble through my body. He holds both my hands now in his one large hand, dangling from his grasp. He begins to coax and caress and keep me bent sweetly deliciously, eagerly to his will. My pulse surges as his lips dance along the skin of my throat, I feel the reaction of my body as I try to move against him. He slides that free hand its fingers deliciously languishing taking its time to reach exactly where I wanted them, god he was the master of this languished torture. Time is the longest distance between two places, and it took him forever to cares and hold. It is my nature to call out prompting and tell him what I want, but I love being at his will and that is really a hard thing to admit, I am not one to relinquish control easily.
He lifts my chin with reverent fingertips, tilting my head back. Gently, pushing my hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear, letting his hand slowly softly caress down my neck. Finally, I look up into his wide exotic gorgeous green eyes, he peers down into mine… into my soul, his holding a particularly delicious intensity that changed his from a tranquil sea to a raging surf. As those orbs meet mine, desire burning already deep in mine. He bites his lip dipping in for another kiss. I beat him to it, biting his bottom lip and pulling him to me. I barely stop myself from devouring him whole. When I finally let go he leans in close letting his shaking, raspy breath tickle my face, caress my ear. He whispers his every wanting wish close and low, dirty thoughts and unholy things he wishes that skin on skin contact could cause, the delicious rumble of his rolling thunder voice adding to the evocative monologue. I feel him shiver as I become almost boneless in his hands. His long-lashed lids would flutter closed as he leans into me, needing more, wanting even more than that.
Ah, I sigh, laying again on that divot on the mattress, I feel the breeze kick up and listen as the rain starts falling on the tin roof, I smiled watching him dress wondering still how he can even fathom that necessity. Time itself slowed and I lamented how I love those long rainy afternoons. Those times when an hour isn’t an hour but an eternity dropped delightfully into your hands and magically you know exactly what to do with it. Watching Life deliciously perfect the line of his collar and the crease of the tucks to the tails of his shirt seemed pretty magical. I never wanted realism, I wanted magic. I write… why do I write, because life is pain, life is disappointment, fear, failure, it is completly unsatisfactory. I don’t want to be there, live there. I don’t lie, I don’t tell the exact truth either. I tell what should be, what very much could be, and if in a real universe exactly how it would be a perfect beautiful truth… I know it’s terrible, sinful even, but if it didn’t just go from the hot gates to nirvana I will happily be damned for it!

@peonies-and-poppies @littletesla, @sweetfairy1
[one shot] Drunk On You



AUTHOR: winterheart17


STORY GENRE: Humor, Drama

STORY SUMMARY: This is based on one of the prompts for the microfiction contest.  But seeing as how I suck at writing short, here comes a one shot where the OC finds herself in a bit of a mess after a drunken run-in the night before with the new sexy professor who moved in next door.


STORY WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Mature for swearing and for hints at sexual content.

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: it’s been some time since I wrote, so feedback would be the best thing ever! I hope you enjoy it and that it translated from what I envisioned as funny in my head into words.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

AH AH okay i see you're taking hc ideas and i love your writing so much pls would u think about a troupe-y muggle university where james and sirius are bffs for life and sirius meets remus inadvertently on campus somewhere?

I’m so sorry, I start writing with the prompt in mind and then a few minutes later, I realise that I don’t even know where the fuck I’m going anymore. 

  • Sirius hated it. 
  • Remus was haunting him. 
  • He had first seen Remus across the room in his class on world history, long, lithe fingers pinching his bottom lip in concentration as he furiously scribbled down notes on his notebook. 
  • Sirius had come prepared for the first day of the semester, all armoured up against beautiful boys with eyes like molten chocolate, swearing up and down that no, he was not going to have another hopeless crush on anyone. 
  • But then there was Remus, with his voice like rumbling clouds on a rainy day and smile like the warmth of your bed after a long, hard day. 
  • And no. He didn’t just torture Sirius during class, with his stupid arm stretches that were coupled with fucking neck stretches (and god, that stupidly biteable neck was going to be the death of him) and his idiotic laughter with annoyingly cute little nose scrunches. 
  • He was everywhere. 
  • Sirius had been walking back home from the pizza shop where he worked part time, texting James about The Jungle Book (”Prongs, mate, friend, buddy, listen. Baloo and Bagheera are so g a y for each other its unbelievable”) when he crashed into another body. 
  • “Fuck, sorry,” he said, quickly bending down to retrieve his phone and the other person’s ipod off the ground, only to smash his head against the strangers’, who was doing the same. “Ow,” Sirius groaned, wincing as he pressed his hand to his head and looked up to check if the other person was alright. 
  • Sirius’ brain might have short circuited a little after that. 
  • “Ugh,” Remus groaned in his deep, deep voice, scrunching his cute lil nose adorably and giving Sirius a small smile. “So sorry about that, I think I was jamming too hard to the song and completely spaced out on where I was going.”
  • “Nnnnggg,” Sirius answered eloquently. 
  • “Um,” Remus said awkwardly, eyes shifting uncomfortably. “Are you…you okay?”
  • “Uh?” Sirius murmured, eyes going wide as he realised what an idiot he was being. “Of course! Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine! Are you? Okay, I mean?”
  • “Yeah, fine,” Remus answered with another unsure, small smile and Sirius had never wanted to be kidnapped by aliens more than he did in that moment. 
  • “Hey, have I seen you before?” Sirius asked, pretending as if he hadn’t memorized the back of Remus’ head in the last two months of classes. 
  • “Yeah, we’re in the same world history class,” Remus said, his smile finally reaching his eyes again. “I’m Remus.”
  • “Nice to meet you,” Sirius said, shaking Remus’ hand and nearly shuddering at how good it felt to touch the other boy. “I’m Sirius.”
  • “I know,” Remus answered with a smirk before bending down to quickly pick up their forgotten possessions off the ground. “See you around?” he asked, handing Sirius his phone. 
  • Remus was already a few steps away before Sirius found the breath to whisper out a “yes, definitely.”

Keep reading

Shit My Theater Professor Said (Part One):
  • "I'll say Macbeth on stage 50 times, I don't give a shit."
  • "Yes it's a penis."
  • "Did you really watch it expecting deep, emotional shit?"
  • "Because you will be killed."
  • "I don't listen to opera in my spare time."
  • "I don't know that show."
  • "I think I met Naked Dave once."
  • "They're gods and they can do that."
  • "You badmouthed me so now you're dead."
  • "He tortured people, he lost his right to sleep."
  • "Fuck it, we do what we want."
  • "This is Ophelia, right? It is now."
  • "Jesus broke his arm."
  • "Basically as an individual I just wanna punch people."
  • "There is a Spiderman musical. It's awful."
  • "The kid had sex with a pie."
  • "That one doesn't count."
  • "I don't know what the fuck those are."
  • "You wanna get home but you can't. And apparently you aren't wearing shoes."
  • "No one gets my shitty references, so I'll stop. Dicks."
  • "South Park is just South Park."
  • "I won't leave this up because people will giggle."
  • "This is where our $9 million can go."
  • "We're at a university. Kind of."
  • "That's super fucked up."
  • "Everything after here gets pretty depressing."
  • "Shit exploded—sweet—awesome!"
  • "There doesn't have to be mass death."
  • "We'll do a little bit of this and then we'll go away."
  • "I don't watch a lot of depressing shit."
  • "Normally there's more giggling when I say that."
  • "I don't know how I'm doing that, but we're doing it."
  • "I don't care—read it. I don't have to read it."
  • "Oh the LARPers are out."
  • "It's just snow, deal with it."
  • "Domestic violence is not comedy."
  • "You're not gonna send Jesus out in a cast."
  • "That's why he creates blah blah blah."
  • "Everyone gets married and lives happily ever after."
  • "Syfy-something-something."
  • "It's just a guy in a hat who looks like Lincoln."
  • "I'll remind myself. So I remember."
  • "Here's one story."
  • "Because Shia LaBeouf."
  • "The book just starts trashing everybody."
  • "Not everybody agrees that Naked Dave is perfect."
  • "I don't think it's a good musical."
  • "Not like fisticuffs."
  • "Pay them slightly."
  • "You don't sleep if you're saving the world."
  • "This has nothing to do with marijuana."
  • "Well did you find five dollars?"
  • "Or a lego. Those are the worst."
  • "The French like making fun of the Spanish. Apparently."
  • "I'm trying to think of a reference."
  • "They like to fight."
  • "If that ever happens, don't fucking leave."
  • "It's art, it's okay."
  • "Not everybody back in the day looked like that."
  • "Does anyone watch it just because they wanna see Luke and Leia make out?"
  • "The way they do it with puppets on stage is kind of mindblowing."
  • "Marriage or death?"
  • "You can't see unless you set something on fire."
  • "You work in a hospital, for God sake."
  • "It's slowly becoming my castle."
  • "I just started watching it, don't spoil it."
  • "That was after my time."
  • "Hopefully no one gets shot."
  • "It's Satan."
  • "I'm not ready for that level of commitment."

The castle halls were abuzz with activity as the sun approached its highest point in the sky.  Princess Anna practically skipped down the hall towards the dining room, hoping to catch her sister in between her meetings for an early lunch.  Anna wondered how the Queen could even stand to be indoors on such a beautiful day, when the warm summer afternoon beckoned.  She stopped and inhaled deeply and thought she caught the aroma of Lapskaus—along with lingonberry nut bread.  Her mouth began to water and she picked up her pace when—

As Anna rounded a corner an arm reached out from behind a drape and grabbed ahold of her arm.  But before she could squeal a hand was placed over her mouth and she was dragged behind the curtain.  Anna was prepared to punch her assailant but soon found herself face to face with Elsa, who was looking rather desperate. 

Anna blinked.  “Elsa?”

The Queen just stood, rooted to the spot, not saying anything, and her breath seemed to be strained.  “Anna…”

The princess recognized the look, and she smirked.  “What have you been thinking about, Elsa?”

Elsa placed a hand on Anna’s chest and pushed her against the wall.  “I’ve been in meetings all morning and what do I find myself thinking about—all morning—but you.”  She used her body to hold her sister firmly.  “And last night.”

Anna gulped at the predatory look in the Queen’s eyes.  “You were extraordinary, as usual.”

The Queen placed her hands flat against the wall on either side of Anna’s head.  “And you—well, how does one say it?  Insatiable…” Her body was flush against Anna’s and their lips barely touching.  “I need you.”  She ran her hands down Anna’s sides.

The princess’s head rolled to the side as a wave of intense arousal hit her.  “Come on, let’s go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What?”  She moaned again when the Queen’s lips ghosted down her neck to her shoulder.  She shivered.  “Elsa, please—don’t tease.  Your room…”

“As I said, we stay right here.”  Elsa held Anna’s hips and lightly thrust against her.

Anna tried to control her breathing, but was failing.  “Someone will hear us.”

Elsa chuckled.  “I certainly hope so.  I want everyone to hear what I do to you—how I please you with my every touch.”  Her left hand squeezed the princess’s bottom.  “How you moan so sweetly just for me.”

Anna could stand no more; she threw her arms around Elsa’s shoulders and roughly pulled her head down.  Their lips crashed together and both groaned into each other’s mouths.  But the Queen had another idea.

Elsa tore her mouth away from Anna’s, and her hand automatically went up to stifle any protests.  “Now none of that, my snowflake.  I told you—I need, and now I’m going to take.”

The princess pried away the offending hand.  “You’ve already had everything.  What more do you want?”

The Queen leaned down and whispered in her ear.  “We’ve never used my ice powers, have we?”

Anna’s eyes went wide.  “What?  How?”  Her breathing quickened, partly out of excitement, and somewhat out of fear.  “Elsa?”

“Do you trust me?”  Elsa began to caress the princess in a soothing manner.  “I would never hurt you.”

“With everything that I am.”

The Queen pressed her sister against the wall again and ground her hips into her.  “Oh, it’s going to be so good.”

And then Elsa moved her hands to the waistband of Anna’s skirt and unhooked the clasp causing the garment puddled around the princess’s feet.  The Queen leered at her younger sister, and gently sought entrance into Anna’s mouth.  The kiss was fiery, and ignited them both. 

Anna’s body, pinned against the wall, felt like it was on fire, and she moaned louder when Elsa pushed a leg between her own and began to grind in earnest.  The Queen hastily raised her arm and then twirled it, causing her own dress to melt away.  But as Anna began to adjust to Elsa’s rhythm, she noticed a slight difference.

The Queen broke from the maddening kiss and hissed in Anna’s ear.  “Wrap your legs around me.”

“Yes…yes…” The princess complied and was lifted against the wall when she did so.  But when Elsa lowered her she felt something as cold as ice graze her center.  It was hard. “What…oh, god, what is that?”

Elsa grunted, frustrated on having to stop.  “Do you like it?”  She wrapped her arms under Anna’s knees, supporting her weight.  “I told you…ice powers.”

“And you’re going to fuck me with that?”

“Oh, yes.”

The princess grabbed Elsa’s cheeks and held on tight.  “You’re just wicked; lovely and wicked.”

“Just for you.”

Anna closed her eyes and let her head fall.  “Gods, Elsa, fill me, please.”

“As you wish,” Elsa panted.  She adjusted her stance, and lowered the princess until she filled her completely; she thrust once, then twice.

Anna gasped and clutched at Elsa, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.  “More…more…”

And then Elsa thrust harder; each movement caused Anna to be slightly lifted against the wall.  The princess groaned with each plummet, and Elsa crashed her mouth down on hers, plunging her tongue in time with the thrusting of her hips.  A fine sheen of sweat developed between them where their stomachs and breasts rubbed together.  For the Queen, she felt as if she was actually inside the princess and she shuddered at the sensation; it was the same for Anna and it made her even wetter.

When Anna dug her heels into the small of Elsa’s back the Queen slowed her rhythm.  “Look at me, Anna.”

The princess kept her eyes closed.  “Just keep going…please…”

Elsa whimpered, feeling as if she were going to explode at any second.  “Anna…I’m close…”

“No, I—I’m not ready, please.”

The queen slowed again, her movements nothing more than a tensing of her buttock muscles.  “Stay with me, Anna.”  After a few long moments of this torture Elsa could hold back no further and began to buck wildly against the princess.  Anna’s mantra of ‘yes, yes’ her impetus towards release.

Anna’s nails ran along Elsa’s back, leaving their marks.  “Elsa…come on, faster…”

And Elsa accommodated her sister and thrust in wild abandon.  “Now…I’m…” She threw her head back and screamed out her orgasm, her ice phallus discharged and splintered away to nothing, and sent her and Anna towards the heavens.

After many long labored breaths, Anna opened her eyes.  “Oh, my, Elsa…Elsa…”

“Yes—wait.”  Elsa shuddered one last time and rolled her hips slowly.  “Ah…”

Finally, their eyes locked and both blushed profusely.  Anna grinned.  “Hello to you, too.”

Elsa forced her breathing under control.  “Hi.”  And then she lowered Anna’s legs to the carpet.  “That was amazing.”  She nuzzled the princess’s neck.  “You’re amazing.”

Anna lifted a hand and peaked around the curtain.  “Do you think they heard?”

The Queen nibbled on Anna’s earlobe.  “I don’t care.”

The princess playfully pushed her sister away as she buttoned her shirt.  “You are so bad.”  When Elsa reached down and lifted her skirt, Anna smiled.  “Next time, I get to be on top.”

“Oh, Anna, anything you want.”

“Anything?”  She leaned over and whispered in her sister’s ear.

Elsa’s eyes went wide and she automatically conjured another ice dress.  “In the Throne Room?  Now?”


Poem #0: The Desolation of Smaug

The sun beats down on the hot asphalt of society
The ice cream that is my life melts in a sweltering inferno
Seeing my chocolatey happiness melt away
I raise my fist to the sky and curse the ancient gods:
“Thanks Obama”
But Obama deserves no thanks
For not even he knows why kids love the taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch
Here’s a hint
There’s sugar in it
You’re welcome
The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma
First Spongebob reference of the poem
We’re off to a good start
Up in the sky!
It’s a bird!
It’s a plane!
No, its the glass ceiling
Wake up America
I’m like Bono:
No one wants to listen to my new album
“Knock knock”
Who’s there?
“White boys”
White boys who?
“lol wut wud u do if i wuz there with u ;) kik me”
You’re right
Benjamin Franklin would never use kik
Maybe Thomas Jefferson
Suddenly the heavens part
And a light like a thousand burning souls shine down
As I stare into the void of creation
I hear the voice of God himself:
“Who would win in a fight? Goku or Superman?”
No one wins under Capitalism
A smile creeps across Comrade Stalin’s face
“High five bruh”
My heart sinks
I want nothing more than to high five my Comrade
But sadly I am only an eel
Spongebob reference number 2
This is going great
I’m like Rasputin
Inaccurately portrayed in an animated film from 1997
And voiced by Christopher Lloyd
Great Scott
This is heavy
Like the weight of society
My heart’s like the inside of a Disney store
Entirely Frozen
But not even an Iron Curtain can hide my feelings
Mr. Gorbechev,
Tear down this wall concealing your emotions
Share your heart with the world
But do so in keeping with the Marxist doctrine
Quoth the Raven:
“Bush knew about 9/11”
Wake up America
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
lol add me on Snapchat
White boys strike again
There will come a day when tomorrow does not matter
There will be no one left to care
No mother left to kiss her child’s bruises
No child left to rebel
No more laughter
No more tears
Just silence
And blackness
And then
When that day comes
Daylight Savings Time will still be a stupid idea
I’m like Walt Disney’s Aladdin
But I ain’t no hollaback girl
My eyes open
A single light bulb hangs from the ceiling
My eyes slowly adjust to the blinding glow
I become more aware of my surroundings
A leaky pipe
A door
Behind which is a set of creaky stairs
With every creak I become more conscious
There are no windows
Only the stench of stale blood, like rusting iron, hanging in the air
No wait
That is rusting iron
I finally make out the beaten and battered shape before my feet
It’s Optimus Prime
My heart leaps into my throat
I struggle as the wretched creaking grows louder and louder
Like Poe’s heart
The creaking becomes unbearable
And then is silenced
For a moment I miss the sweet torture of anticipation
For now standing before me is an evil above all others:
Michael Bay
I try to escape, but I am strapped down to the Ninja Turtles reboot
By what’s left of Megan Fox’s career
Michael Baywatch smiles
“You can’t escape me this time, Shia”
I look down at myself
I’ve suddenly transformed into Shia LaBeouf
Shia surprise
Michael Bay-once pulls out a dead horse and begins to beat Optimus Prime with it
I scream
Silly Shia LaBeouf
As I scream in pain, I suddenly awaken
It was all a dream
Like Wizard of Oz
Except nothing at all like Wizard of Oz
My jokes are like Adam Sandler movies
They stopped being funny a long time ago but for some reason I keep trying
I know the reason:
Corporate America!
Does whatever a spider can
Except resist the cold sting of Capitalism
More like Crap-italism!
Am I right guys?…
Am I right guys?…..
Am I right guys?…….
“Knock knock”
Who’s there?
Walter White dies at the end of Breaking Bad
But in the Latin alphabet, “Jehovah” begins with an “I”
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
“Damnit Jason! I knew we should’ve asked for directions!”
“I don’t need directions Cheryl
The Lord will show me the way.”
Sign up for today
And the Lord said unto Jason:
“Bro just hop onto PCH and take the 110
Then get on the 405
And take the 90210
Until you get to the 8675309.”
And thus, Jason followed the Lord’s way
And got even more lost than before
Never take directions from religious figures
The word of the Lord
Thanks be to Morgan Freeman
But I would walk approximately 804.672 kilometers
And I would walk approximately 804.672 more
Just to be the man who walked approximately 1,609.344 kilometers
To fall down at your door
Falling down deeper and deeper into the darkness
The darkness of society
Suspended in the blackness
My spirit is torn apart
And burned with tongues of fire
Until I am nothing more than an empty husk
Trapped in the clutches of society
But through the hate and the pain
I hear a voice
The voice of an angel
It calls out to me from above
And a light shines down
Through the suffering I see the light
And hear four words
Four simple words
Ringing like the song of a church bell:
“This is my swamp”
The smell of onions permeate the air
I feel his presence
He’s here with me
New Jersey Governor Chris Christie
Chris Christie grabs my arm
And pulls me out of the fire
We fly away and hang out with the Cake Boss
Next week on Cake Boss:
Buddy makes a cake and his family acts really Italian
New Jersey Governor Chris Christie is love
New Jersey Governor Chris Christie is life
What’s in a name?
Would a meme by any other name be still as dank?
For you are the dancing queen
Young and free
Only 17
Zac Efron
Zac Efron has 8 letters in his name
Which is the exact amount of letters used to spell The Illuminati
If The Illuminati was spelled with 8 letters
Get’cha head in the game America
Out of the frying pan
Into the freezer section at Trader Joe’s
Do you know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Do you know the muffin man,
Who lives on Drury Lane?
He owes me drug money

"Blood And Tears" One Shot

Author: lucifursblog

Summary: The reader is having really bad period cramps, and Dean doesn’t know how to help

Warnings: Mild self hate, blood mention, cursing.

Word Count: 1,653 words



Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck.

Of all the fucking days.

Keep reading


homebeccer has had a stressful coule of days and asked for Pregnant Sam and family fluff to cheer her up

Sam’s phone rang for the fourth time in an hour. She didn’t even need to set a special ringtone to know it was her mother. No song deserved that permanent association. 

“That your Mom, again?” Tucker asked.

“She’s probably calling about the shower,” Sam said. “It’s a good thing she doesn’t like texting, or my phone would be going off non-stop.”

“I’d totally go there for moral support, but every time I see your mom she always does that same dirty look she gave me that one time I got sent into the Principal’s office wearing your clothes.”

“Heh. Oh yeah. I think I still have that picture in one of my old albums. Anyways, Danny’s not even allowed to go, either. Mom’s making it a ‘ladies only’ event and she’s invited half my extended family and all of her friends from the country club, so I’m going to be drowning in baby-blue everything and really inappropriate, sexist baby clothes. And I’ll be the only one there not drinking.”

Keep reading

When he got jealous

“Hanbin-ah, why are you acting like this?!” I shouted to him who was walking up the stairs. He didn’t even reply me. I got upset and I went up to change out of the body hugging dress. I went into my room and saw that Hanbin wasn’t there so I assumed he was in the guest room.
“Phew thank god prom night is over…” I sighed as I unzipped the dress and let it drop to the floor.
“I know right. Thank god it’s over.” I heard someone say in a cold tone.
“Omg i thought you were in the other room. Now get out i need to change.” I said to Hanbin who was at the other side of the room but he only moved closer to me. He got closer and closer and he cornered me. He placed both his hands on the wall behind me and growled in my ear. “Did you have fun grinding against someone that’s not me?” He whispered in the lowest tone he could go. My heart was melting and I could feel myself getting wet.
Then I decided to tease him,“ Hmmm maybe… Why? Are you jealous?” I snickered.
Suddenly he grabbed my ass and lifted me up. Then he threw me down on the bed, making me scared.
“Tonight, you’re gonna get it so hard till all you know is my name, Han. Bin.
He tore away my bra and panties and began to fondle with my breasts. He made a trail of kisses from my forehead to my nose to my lips. I moaned in his mouth as his tongue explored the cavern and his fondling hands.
” Enough foreplay babyyyy", I complained
He didn’t reply and just stood up from the bed. He went out of the room and I was left hanging for a while. Then, Hanbin came back with ropes… I was shocked and wondered where he’d got the time to get them. As I was lost in my thoughts he grabbed my hands an tied them to the bed posts.
Hanbin took a second to rid of his clothes and he went up the bed again. He hovered over me and I was getting more turned on by the second. His dick came into contact with my pussy and he started grinded. The mere contact was driving me crazy already. He left hickeys all over my body. “ This is so that people know you’re mine” he growled.
I groaned and moaned and beg him to untie me but it was to no avail.
“JUST FUCK ME ALRE- ARGHHH” i groaned in pain as he slammed his dick deep into me. He was not giving me time to adjust at all. He thrusted into me at quite a fast speed. I couldnt stop my loud wails and moans. But then he began to tease and slowed down. “HANBIN FASTERR FASTER!” But he was just smirking at me and continued his torturous slow pace. Then, he began to untie my hands. As soon as I was untied, I used all my strength to push him so that I was on top. I went down on him fast and it was like ecstasy. He grabbed my hips to aid me. He was letting loud moans and I felt like I won the fight. “Look whos on top now… I whispered into his ears. Hanbin was obviously pissed and probably reminded of what made him angry that day and he got me on all fours. He slipped the head into me and stopped. ” what are you doing hanbin? Come on dont stop!“ After my complain he just rammed inside of me. And he thrusted at an inhumanely fast speed. ” ahhhhhhh yes there" i moaned out as he found my g-spot. He thrusted into me deeper and i felt my vision turning white. “ im- im cumming!” I let out.
“Me too baby, come on let it go for daddy…” His hand made its way and rubbed my clit and I released. He thrusted into me a few more times and he released his seeds in me… We both collapsed and i could feel the warm liquid trailing down my thighs. I was panting and managed to let out my thoughts, “ Don’t be jealous okay?” He just pulled me into his arms till my butt was against his dick and snuggled on my neck,“ Then don’t go to Bobby like that again okay? I love you so much…” He replied as he kissed my neck. I felt a warm feeling in my heart hearing his words and I teared up. “ I love you too… I’m sorry” i turned so that we could look at each other in the eye.
Hanbin then gave me his dorkiest smile and kissed my forehead. I rest my head on his arms and chest and we both drifted to sleep.

Author’s note:
I’m sorry guys, was this good enough? I felt like I wasn’t really having much action…