My grandma collects thimbles, because she is 87 and adorable, and my dad just brought one back for her from his recent holiday to Poland, and it’s a really bizarre thimble which is metal and shaped like an owl, and I said to my grandma ‘that’ll stick out in your collection like a sore thumb’ and none of them appreciated my very very good joke
Aries: They get even louder and more fiery than they usually are. Look for them dancing on tables or starting fights with random people who “looked at their friend wrong.”
Taurus: Taureans will feel an uncontrollable urge to get cozy and comfortable, which could cause them to take off their pants and/or head to bed for a nap.
Gemini: If you think sober Gemini is chatty, you’ve obviously never met a drunk Gemini. Even Gems who are naturally a bit shy open up A LOT with the assistance of a few cocktails.
Cancer: Excel at the two C’s: crying and cuddling. Often simultaneously. Sometimes with strangers.
Leo: emotions come out, so be ready for tears and/or dramatic professions of love. After that they’ll put on the most entertaining karaoke performance you’ll ever see.
Virgo: Shed their self-conscious shell and tends to be super chatty and social. They’ll also want to introduce you to all their friends…over and over and over again.
Libra: You know the person who’s hugging everyone and saying, “I just really love you guys” to people they’ve never met? That’s a drunk Libra.
Scorpio: Doing one of 3 things: cornering someone at to discuss the meaning of life, tearfully drunk-dialing their ex-boyfriend to ask where they went wrong, or having sex.
Sagittarius: Everything is a competition. You’ll find them trying to out-drink their sorority sisters or organizing a sloppy arm-wrestling tournament in the corner of the bar.
Capricorn: Massive spilling of confessions and secrets: they let out everything their normally controlled sober selves keep tightly under wraps.
Aquarius: They board a one-way train to flirt city. Find them charming the hot bartender and collecting phone numbers with the same giddy fervor as your grandma collecting cat figurines.
Pisces: Epitome of a “happy drunk.” They’re laughing, smiling, and bursting with joyful, loving energy. Spend a few minutes chatting with a drunk Pisces and you’ll be saying, “Damn, I’ll have what she’s having!”
I honestly do miss reading so much. I used to be a really hardcore reader, I used to read anything I got my hands on which was just a mix of my mothers, fathers and grandmothers personal book collections. My grandma gave me the classics like Shakespeare and Hugo and I can’t believe I used to read it and really honestly enjoy it. I love everythign I found in my dads collection though, he introduced me to fantasy and sci-fi and I could literally (really literally) just sleep in books.
Yes, sure, I had nothing better to do when I was 12, 13 or even 15. And I was so sure I would always be a reader. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still am a reader. But I don’t read 500 pages in a day like I used to (yes, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I’m looking at you). I used to be a Reader more than anything else.
I know it’s normal. I know I really don’t have the time to read as much as I used to - an argument I used to laugh at. But it is true. I didn’t have to go to work, study as much as I do now and take care of the other things I need to get done every day or week or so, back then. And the only thing I really regret is that back then I wanted nothing more than to have enough money to buy books. Now I have the money but I don’t read as much as I used to.
Once the semestr is over, I will try to get back to reading as much as I can. Because I honestly miss it. Maybe more than anything else.
My grandmother died a few weeks back at the ripe old age of 85,
passing away peacefully in her sleep. By all accounts, she lived a damn
good life, and I tried my very best to make it so. Lord knows she did
the same for me.
This has been a difficult post for me to write. You see, when a
treasured loved one dies, especially one that you grew up with, the
little solar system of your life is thrown completely out of orbit. Not
that mine was ever all that stable in the first place.
My parents died in a car accident when I was two years old, and I was
a little too young at the time to fully absorb the emotional impact of
being orphaned. When the prospect of being put into the foster system
was brought up by the family lawyer, grandma took me in without a second
thought. Her home was our home; it’s where I built my childhood.
Honestly, you’d never meet a more charitable woman than my grandma.
From the second I came into her life, all the way up to her death (and
even beyond) she’s provided for me without fail.
Another interesting thing about grandma is the fact she was mute. I’m
not talking about selective mutism here, I’m talking full-blown,
constant silence. I’ve known that woman for my entire 32 years of life,
and while I got used to it within a few months, to some it seems crazy
that I never heard a word from her.
Of course, we had our own ways of communicating back then. I picked
up sign language pretty quickly, as kids tend to, and she always used to
write on this little chalk board for me. I thought it was awfully cute
at the time.
I got a call from her lawyer a few days after she passed, telling me
she’d left her entire estate to me in her will. It doesn’t matter how
well you know a person, that kind of thing always hits you deep:
everything that wasn’t covered by her donor card now belonged to me.
A week or two passed, some papers were signed, and money changed
hands. The wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly as ever, as my grandma’s
possessions became my possessions, and some eager patients became happy
recipients of grandma’s remarkably healthy liver, kidneys, and lungs.
Like I said, she was the giving type.
The home was an old Georgian place: two storeys, three bedrooms, and a
well-maintained garden. I felt like a kid who just got a pony for
Christmas. The problem was, I’m not a rich enough guy to pay the rent on
an apartment and a house, and I’m not such a heartless bastard that I’d
immediately sell my childhood home either – especially on this bipolar
I was speaking to a good friend of mine about it over a few drinks,
and it was his idea to convert it into a rental property. I mulled it
over when I was sober, of course, but my office job wasn’t going
anywhere, so I decided that being a landlord might be a welcome change
Summary: Negan gets the Reader a special gift…
Characters: Negan, Reader, Dwight and Simon
POV: Second Person
Warnings: Smut and Language
You and Negan hadn’t known each other long. He had found you a few months before, trapped by a herd of particularly feisty walkers. After coming to your rescue he expected you to swoon at his brave acts and easily fall into his bed, as his wife, but you didn’t. You’d be lying if you said his charisma didn’t weaken your knees or that his deep chuckle didn’t leave you wet for him. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to feel his hot breathe moving down your body as he dragged his plump lips down to your clit. But, you were raised to hold yourself to high standards and becoming one of Negan’s whores went against everything your mother ever taught you about your role in relationships and men. He knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, but you remained vigilant and rigid, which he found quite intriguing. Negan was curious of you and your stubbornly independent nature. Constantly bothering you, and teasing you he would ask you each day to be his wife. He would try and kiss you, cornering you during the day or at your door at night. He had his other wives, but he just needed to make you his. When Dwight came to tell you that Negan wanted to see you it was hardly a surprise. You rolled your eyes and knocked on Negan’s bedroom door. Placing your hands on your hips impatiently you waited seconds before he opened the door,
“Y/N. What a nice fucking surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He gave you his signature award winning grin and chuckled at his own antics. You glared at him,
“What do you want from me Negan? I’m not getting married to you, I’ve told you enough times by now. I’m kind of starting to think you’re deaf because I’ve never met a human being as unaware and self-absorbed as yourself.” Negan gave you a smirk,
“Why, thank you baby. It’s such an honor to win such a badass award. It makes sense, I mean fucking look at me, have you ever seen any motherfucker finer than yours truly.” You scoffed,
“If I’m just here to just listen to you talk about how fucking ‘great’ you are I’m just going to leave. Uh, buh-bye.” Negan grabbed your arm,
“Nah, ah, ah, I have something special for you, baby.” He pulled you into his room and sat you on the couch. Leaving you he went behind his bed and came back with a pink box. He sat down in front of you and smirked,
“Go ahead and open your gift.” He sat back resting the back of his head on the palms of his hands. You slowly lifted the lid. Pulling out a purple pair of lacy underwear and gave him a dirty look,
“What the hell? I’m not your whore, Negan. You can’t just get me to parade around like a stripper for your amusement.”
“This is not for me, it’s for you. As much as I would fucking love to see you in my bed with your ass in those, I know you’re not into that shit so it’s for you. Free of fucking charge. Now ain’t I just a fucking saint.” He smirked at you and you scowled at him, “What is the fucking catch here Negan? I know there’s a catch.” He held his hands up in defense,
“No catch. Nothing,” He smirked again,
“I just know that you don’t have any clean panties and I thought I’d help out.” You growled,
“What is that supposed to mean?” He leaned in really close,
“It’s hard to keep them clean when you are touching yourself to thoughts of my big cock in your pretty little pussy.” You gasped and pushed him away from you. You stood up, outraged, but before your hand reached the doorknob he turned you and pressed your back up against the door,
“Come on, I was just messing with you. Just take them.” You sighed, knowing if you just took them he’d think he won and back off. “Fine. I’ll take the them.” He slipped them in your back pocket and chuckled. “Well, then. Go fucking enjoy your gift, babydoll.” He opened the door and you walked out, stuffing them farther in your pocket so no one would see them and assume you slept with Negan. You heard a deep chuckle and Negan’s door closed behind you. You went up to your room and tried to find a way to shove them into the back of your drawer, so no one would ever find them. As you looked at your extremely limited collection of grandma panties you decided to put the on pair Negan had given you on. It was just a underwear, you knew he was being manipulative, but you weren’t going to fall for it so it didn’t matter whether you wore them or not. After you put them on you heard a knock at your door and there stood Simon.
“Well, hello sweetheart,” His moustache perked up as he gave you a sly grin.
“Boss man told me to tell you we’re having a meeting.” You sighed, annoyed at Negan. He always found a way to bother you, even when he wasn’t there.
“Shit, I was just going to relax. Now I have to listen to the ‘Oh so great and powerful Negan’ talk about how fucking “great” he is for the next few hours. Fun.” He chuckled and ran off to summon someone else to the feet of the ‘Almighty, powerful King’. As you entered the conference room you immediately took solid in the back corner, leaned up against the wall. Dwight came over and you asked him what the surprise meeting was about,
“He needs people to go out to go out on a run.” You gave him a questioning look,
“Why the fuck does he need us to go on a run? We have suppliers? A broken look swept upon his face and he looked down at the ground,
“Where do you think his wives get their,” He paused again making a sour face, “clothing from?” He finished just as the door opened and the boss himself strode in with a sly grin on his lips.
“Hello, you motherfucking bastards. Are we ready to get started?” The small group of Negan’s best men hummed a ‘yes’ and for the first time you realized you were the only female in the room.“Alright then,” He winked at you.
“We have a new comer. Y/N is going to join us on this trip because I figured you pricks could use a little fucking feminine insight. Ain’t that right, Dwighty boy?” Dwight looked up and grinned,
“Yup.” You looked over at Dwight, knowing he was just pretending to be okay. You knew he was hurt after Sherry had left him for Negan. Youfelt anger inside you and you pushed yourself off the wall, staring Negan down,
“You are such a fucking sexist pig. You are so disgus–” Your breath caught in your throat and your words were cut off by a vibrating feeling between your legs. Negan was smirking at you and in his hand was a little remote he was discretely pressing. It was teasing your clit, tantalizing vibrating over your core. You tried to compose yourself,
“I-I d-don’t want an-any part in this.” The other men look at you with confusion, but Negan, just winked at you and in an instant you understood. The panties he had given you were not any normal pair of underwear, but a vibrating pair. He gave you a fucking sex toy. You began to glare at him and suddenly it got faster. He chuckled and walked over to you, dancing his lips right over your ear, making your stomach flutter.
“Now, we won’t have anymore interruptions out of you will we, Y/N? You mustered a small no and suddenly it stopped. You were not sure whether you were happy or upset that it stopped, but it had definitely reminded you of fun nights with your boyfriend. You hadn’t felt that kind of release since long before the apocalypse and you were extremely hot and bothered. Negan traced the knuckles of his fingers up and down your cheekbone and you felt a familiar ache between your legs. You wanted so bad for him to continue caressing your body and fulfill the tireless ache forming between your legs, but he was a prick. You wouldn’t give in that easy, he was an ass and he didn’t deserve to get what he wanted for all the shit he did. He went back to the front of the room and continued talking. You found it hard to listen when you were thinking about both killing and fucking him. You hated yourself for being so attracted to such a horrible man. You were lost in thought for a while until Dwight pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to you,
“Want one?” You smiled, Dwight was really beginning to be the first man you met in Negan’s sanctuary that wasn’t a total bastard.
“I’m good.” He shrugged,
“Just thought you’d want to get ripped. If you change your mind they’re here.” He put the box in his back pocket and you opened your mouth to thank him when you felt it again.
“Now, Y/N. What did I say about interruptions?” He was smirking at you and you glared at him, feeling it pick up in speed you whimpered, bracing yourself on the wall. He spun on heels in a circle,
“Alright you asswipes, get back to work. We will continue this meeting later, right now I need to have a conversation with Y/N.” The men left quickly, not wanting to make Negan angry. Dwight was the last to leave, telling you,
“You should have taken the damn cig.” He turned walking out and you stood there groaning on the wall. Negan slowly sauntered over to you, shaking his head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You, my fucking doll have been a naughty little girl.” He reached you, holding up the remote in front of your face. Realizing what it was you tried to grab it, but he moved it swiftly, turning you into the wall, rubbing himself up against your ass. You moaned and tilted your head back into him. He chuckled at your reaction and put his free hand on you waist. Pulling your shirt up he softly stroked the skin on your stomach. Your legs went weak underneath you and you grabbed his hand, taking it under your shirt to your breast. His rugged, calloused his hands kneaded your left boob you whined. With the swelling of your clit from the vibrator and your swiftly hardening nipples under Negan’s fingertips, you were in a perfect firmament. The only the thing that could make you feel any better was some part, any part of him against you, inside your walls. You squirmed as the vibrator was moved and hit a new side of your bud. It was like putting candy in front of a child and telling them they cannot have it. You hated this and Negan knew that.
“Mmm, baby you want my cock real fucking bad, don’t you?” You breathed out an airy ‘yes’ and the vibrator stopped. You slumped against the wall, relieved of taunting of the vibrator, but also craving for stimulation. You whip around and bring his lips to yours. He smiled into the kiss and pulled your leg around his waist. You fisted his hair in your hands when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Melding with yours, his tongue painted the inside of your mouth with hot fervor. You grinded into his crotch and he groaned.
“Fuck, baby. What are you doing to me?” You responded by tracing your tongue down his neck and biting the soft skin there. He grabbed the edge of your shirt and pulled it up over your head. You took it from him, throwing it somewhere and he unclasped your bra in a second. He did have six wives so this was like a daily routine. He stood back for a second, smirking at the curves of your naked form.
“Stop staring and just fuck me already.” Before you could even blink he unzipped your jeans and pulled them down you legs. Holding onto the wall, he helped you get your shoes off and your feet out of them. After, he chuckled at those damn purple lace panties and looked back up at you. Stripping your bottom half of those panties he pulled your back against himself and slid his fingers down to your core. Parting your folds he slid his finger up and down your bud and in into your core. You withered against him as finger slowly pumped in you, but pulled his finger out of you and turned around.
“It’s really not fair that I’m the only one who’s naked.” With that he threw his standard white shirt and red scarf to different parts of the room, while you unbuckled his jeans. Kicking off his shoes and his pants he stood in front of you in just his boxers. You got down on your knees and yanked them down his legs and his cock sprung out. Negan put a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to him,
“I fucking love you in this position, doll, but right now I would rather my cock be inside you pretty little pussy.“ You stood up and grabbed his cock in your hands.
“Then fucking get in me right now.” He turned you to the wall and slammed into you from behind. You screamed at the unfamiliar, but desirable sensation.
“Negan!” He continued to slam in and out of your core hard and rough. You had both hands on the wall and we’re sloppily meeting his hips with every thrust. His cock was reaching new parts of you that had never been fucked so good before. This position was exposing a different part of you to his thrusts than ever before in the traditional style. He moved his arm on your waist to your pussy and started rubbing your clit. You felt something in your stomach build. It was like a flutter, something you hadn’t felt in years.
“I-I’m so close.” His panting was picking up speed, as did his thrusts when you finally felt it as your toes curled.
“Fuck, uhh.” You had never had an orgasm that good. It was heavenly.
“Yes, cum for me baby.” After speaking those words he cummed himself. Cursing at the ecstasy of your walls around him.
“Fuck, shitting, fuck. Your pussy is so fucking good.” When he finished he pulled you to him and whispered in your ear, panting out the words,
“Damn, are you sure you don’t want to be my wife because that was fucking awesome.” You smiled at his comment. It was awesome, but you weren’t giving in.
“No, we’ve had this chat. No.” He started kissing your neck, hoping to pursuade you.
“Why the hell not?” You huffed and pushed him away from you.
“Because that’s not a marriage. A marriage is between two people who love and respect each other. Yes, they fuck, but that’s not all that they do. I deserve to be with a man who treats me like he loves me and only me, not another one of his fifty whores.” Negan was very surprised by your words, he had no idea what to say. You put back on all of your clothes and walked to the door, but his voice stopped you.
“Your right. You deserve someone better, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be fuckbuddies. Come on, everyone had one in high school and college. You fuck because it’s fun and after go on to get married to other people. We can do that and then when you find some nice guy, I won’t fight him. It’s a win-win situation here. Based on your sensitivity you clearly haven’t had sex in a long time and you want to be with a nice guy. What could be better than this.” You stopped in your tracks, contemplating his offer. You were a bit sexually frustrated and he could easily fix that. You decided as long as you were just ‘fuckbuddies’ than it would be okay.
“We’d really just be fuckbuddies and you would let me get married to someone else?” He smirked,
“As long as I get that fine pussy.” You sighed in response,
“Fine.” On hearing that he slammed you back up against the wall, crashing his lips into yours.
“Negan, Negan we need you.” An outside voice said. Negan groaned.
“Sorry babydoll, I’ve got places to be. He put on his clothes, but before he walked out he turned back to you.
"Until I get back keep on those perfect fucking purple lace panties I gave you. Then I can pleasure you no matter where I am.” You smiled and felt the buzz of the vibrator between your legs. Man, how were you supposed to work with a vibrator between your thighs and Negan on your mind.
This was fun to write, hope everyone enjoys. Have a spectacular weekend!
I am finally returning from the abyss of un-creativity. My comp class is writing papers on fear so I’ve been shooting myself over it for about a month now and I’m finally free. But it got me thinking, what are people really afraid of?
Tuskishima- Aquaphobia- the fear of drowning- this boy can’t sinks like a rock and he refuses to get in the water ever
Atelophobia- the fear of not being good enough- he’s always been one of the best, and now that he has people that depend on him, he never wants to let them down.
Athazagoraphobia- the fear of being forgotten or ignored- think about it, he’ll do anything to get on the court even for one second, he doesn’t want to just dissapear into the background
Hinata- Arachnaephobia- the fear of spiders- his sister likes to put plastic spiders in his room and he cries everytime
Daichi- acraphobia- the fear of heights- cries like a baby on rollercoasters and Suga laughs at him
Katagelophobia- Fear of ridicule- being bullied was the worst for him, he never wants to experience it again
Yachi- Traumataphobia- the fear of injury- not neccisarily her being injured but the people she cares about
Monophobia- Fear of solitude or being alone- he needs people around him, he needs to surround himself with life and laughter because when he’s alone he’s suffocating
Coulrophobia- Fear of clowns- screams and runs as far and as fast as possible like a smart person (seriously tho the murder clowns are steadily moving towards my campus and i’m about to buy a thing of mace)
Ailurophobia- the fear of cats- no they are not cute and cuddly they’re tiny harbringers of death
Pediophobia- Fear of dolls- his grandma collects those creepy glass ones that look like they’re watching you and they’ve started showing up in his dreams
Scotophobia- Fear of darkness- when she was little she got locked in a closet for a while and it was dark and now that’s all she thinks about. (this is what my paper was about)
Gerascophobia- Fear of growing old- he gets depressing every now and then and thinks about everyone growing up and growing apart and his life just sprialling into nothingness and yeah he’s a hoot at parties
Philophobia- the fear of falling in love- he has a glass heart, he’s not sure if he can trust someone to take care of it. (Give it to Noya baby)
Phasmophobia- Fear of ghosts- watches a shitton of ghost hunting shows and it scares the shit out of him he’s such a baby
thanatophobia- the fear of death- but for him especially it’s a fear of dying before he’s had a chance to really live
ok so this started out super happy and cute and then it digressed into….. pain and sadness. Sorry. probably not the best intro to my creative posts. Let me know if I should do the other teams.
My grandma is letting me use doll stuff for my furbies and I think it’s so cute that my grandma still collects them at her age. I find it awesome that we have kinda the same thing in common and that she is letting me use bear clothes and doll clothes for my babies.
>>> Fair warning, I’m pretty excited about this post<<
So, when you hear kitchen witch or cottage witch, what comes to mind? Maybe an old rustic looking room, pots hangin from the wooden ceiling, herbs hanging to dry everywhere. Maybe a gnarled woman hunched over a huge cast iron pot, while fog rolls through, and a clock somewhere strikes midnight…
For me, being a kitchen witch means that I take great pride in my food. It means I also put a lot of stock (hahaha get it???) in my family, and my ability to care and nurture them. I put a really heavy focus on friends, family, my home, and myself.
It means I’m constantly looking up recipes. I collect herbs like grandmas collect fancy plates. I’m always trying to learn about new baking methods. I study herbalism and look for natural remedies that are safe and actually work.
Being a cottage witch means I take everything I focus on in the kitchen, and I turn it outward through my whole house, my whole property even. It means I never throw away even the smallest thread, and that broken glass is something I collect in jars just in case. It means that there are sigils written over every window, door and crack, and that even the simplest thing, like my windchimes, or the screen door or the cute little clock above the doorway, all protect my family and my household and ward off even the littlest shit that tries to worm its way through.
It means I have happiness charms hiding behind furniture in every room, it means I focus on helping and healing and comfort, but I also know when to get down and dirty. It means taking no shit from anyone or anything. It means protecting your own.
I take pride in being a kitchen/cottage witch, because it means I’m learning to better take care of myself and my family and home. It gives me peace and comfort and a sense of purpose, to have a literal endless amount of possibilities and no limit on creativity. I can go in any direction I want with my practice, whatever I think will serve my family better. And I love it.
CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY BECAUSE IT’S DEFINITELY TIME FOR MORE
Lads y lasses, get your politically incorrect underoos on, a Cards Against Humanity game with voice chat and good times is around the corner!
When is it? Not entirely sure, the crux of this game is getting the most people possible, so that would depend on when we’re all good and ready for such a thang, but as far as tentative dates go, looking for sometime in the evening/night of Friday, May 19th. If that works for ya, RSVP! If not, and if there’s a big enough call for a different date/time, we can work something out. But on the whole, this world has a severe lack of Prince’s dressing rooms in it that needs to be fixed post-haste.
Other than that, same old same old CAH info applies. Links for the voice chat and game will be coming later to those who want in.
The voices are coming, and they have wonderful things to say about the collection your grandma has in her closet. ( @chibi-cheez-it )
I have loved elephants since I was a little girl because my Grandma has collected them her whole life. I was also told by a psychic that my power animal is an elephant. I believe that my patronus would be an elephant, so I had “expecto patronum” tattooed on me in the shape of an elephant. Done by Travis Thornhill at Iron Street Tattoo in Salina, KS.