The Swap [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

[write-a-thon tag]

Summary: when the unimaginable happens and you see yourself trapped inside your best friend’s body, magic doesn’t seem like child’s play anymore. (Teen!Lin)

Word Count: 4,719

Warnings: A lot of cursing and a lot of dick jokes, lol

A/N: WRITE-A-THON DAY #1 Y’ALL!!!! (and no, you’re not lost, I decided to post this earlier because I’ve been getting a crazy amount of love today and to me this is the best way I can think of to repay you guys) This might be the funniest piece I’ve written in my life. It was so fun to picture the whole situation and to brainstorn with @down4usnavy because she’s THE BEST and thanks to my hamwriters girls for proofreading this mess and @tempfixeliza for reading this also and giving me that ol’ confidence boost. Hope you like it!

Tagging: @aham-threw-his-shot-away - @oooimaghost - @hartbg - @a-dott-ham - @ruth-hamilton-delrio - @mofoing-democraftic-republican - @backitup-humperdinck - @always-blame-jefferson - @picklessfights

askbox | masterlist

You didn’t believe in magic. At least not anytime after you turned nine years old. But then… You woke up that morning.

You started by noticing you weren’t in your bedroom, was it… Lin’s bedroom? Movie posters, comic books and many, many cassettes, yeah, that was definitely Lin’s bedroom. But you didn’t sleep with him last night, you remembered clearly the moment he dropped you home like he always did and went back to his place.

As your hand moved to your face trying to wake yourself up when you felt… Was that facial hair? Since when did you have a stubble? All the drowsiness that you could possibly have just vanished when you got up from the small bed and ran to the the mirror. You couldn’t blame the dim light coming through the curtains for that.

You were Lin-Manuel.

Worse, you were yourself trapped in Lin-Manuel’s body.

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Never Have I Ever - A.I

Originally posted by inspiring-blog

Somebody stop me.  I shouldn’t be allowed to do this anymore. Also, I don’t like how this ends so I’m sorry for that…this also goes from 0-100 really quick

Warning: Spanking, choking, daddy kink

“Never have I ever choked someone or been choked,” Michael said watching as two of his four friends took a shot of tequila, Michael not surprised at all that y/n had, but was very surprised when Luke was the one joining her for the shot. They were seated in Ashton’s hotel room that he was sharing with y/n on her two week stay with the boys during their break.“Jesus christ, Luke.”

“What?” the youngest of the group asked laughing as he high fived y/n, neither holding shame in their eyes. “I wasn’t the one into it. I just aim to please.”

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anonymous asked:

that actually was his arm in a black tshirt, not his leg. he was wearing grey sweatpants. his inner elbow crease is what looked like a knee

obviously it was his arm that was in the black tshirt, but its what comes after that thats suspicious

you can see his fingers in this shot as he stands up, so we know that its not his arm that we’re seeing behind his hand

then his arm almost leaves the frame and you can see his “leg” more clearly 🤔it almost looks like hes wearing grey briefs and i mean maybe its just his grey sweatpants and the lighting is just really weird but i love speculation and dans thighs

The Detective, The Writer, His Ex, and Their Darling Daughter

by mldrgrl
Rating: NC-17
Summary:  Continuing in the adventures of Hank and Stella, the unlikely duo spend a weekend in Connecticut…at Karen’s.
Note: This will probably not make much sense without reading the rest of the stories in the series.  I will add the links to each part at the end of this story.

July was probably the worst time to come to New York, but it fit into both of their schedules.  Heat, humidity, summer tourists.  All things both Stella and Hank would have rather avoided.  They landed at JFK at 8pm EST and waited in the sweltering taxi stand for over half an hour amongst throngs of tired and impatient travelers for a ride into the city.  All Stella wanted by the time they arrived at Hank’s loft, was a cool shower and a soft bed.

Stella knew that Hank was tired as well by the simple fact that he made no attempt to invade her shower.  She left her hair wet, knowing it would be wild and untamed in the morning, but all she’d wanted was to get the stink of jet fuel and sweat off of her before she headed to bed.  Hank had already crashed, sprawled on the bed in his underwear with the sheets kicked away.  She slipped on a pair of panties and a loose, cropped camisole and joined him, falling quickly asleep to the metronomic click of the ceiling fan.

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In Another Life - Good Job, Baby


summary: a chaptered fic made up of a series of smutty oneshots taking place in the pastel!dan and punk!phil alternate universe

genre: smut, and possibly other things along the way (who knows)

warnings: in this particular oneshot - swearing, virginity, overstimulation, innocent!dan, handjob, blowjob, anal, dirty talk, size kink, lowkey praise kink uwu (wow kyra you just keep on going don’t you)

word count: 3087 (dammit)

a/n: okay yes! this is my fourth fic in a row, so i think i’m doing amazing with the ‘a fic a day’ thing. just to clarify, the following chapters to this fic will not be related to each other in anyway. the only thing they will have in common is pastel!dan and punk!phil, okay? okay. also, there are different prompts requested for each oneshot so ofc, it will all be different for each chapter, clear? alright now that that’s settled, everything phil did to dan was consensual and i had a lot of fun writing this. i would also like to thank holly for being there for me and beta’ing this fic. she is absolutely amazing :) i hope you guys liked this <33

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The start of a new year means getting back to the gym. At least we have the locker room to bring us motivation. Here are some Undergear models to get you moving this Waistband Wednesday.

In order…Doug Seibert in Pumas, Joe LoCicero in Gabriel Grey jock briefs, Rusty Joiner in C-in2, James Guardino in Puma, Thierry Pepin for Gregg Homme in a lace-up jock, Ben Pamies in C-in2, a Scott Herman selfie in CKs, and a group shot of Nick Auger, Kevin Burns, John Coulter, Derek Mickens and Paul Marron – all wearing Baskit undies for Undergear.

Happy Waistband Wednesday and Happy New Year!

If you like waistbands and cute guys, follow WaisbandBoi for more motivation!


Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre: Disgustingly fluffy. Oh, and some lighthearted fondling.

Count: 900 words.

The shadows of one in the morning dance around his eyes, scrutinising, weaving through his lashes with the taunt of his firm response to your tentative request. His resolve was slowly beginning to dissolve, you could tell, pushing your lower lip out slightly further, your fingertips coming up to brush back his midnight locks of hair, but his own flashes out from beneath the sheets to wrap around your wrist, halting movement. The frown upon his features winds tighter, and you collapse forward onto his chest with an aggravated sigh.

“Please! Just this once-”

“No,” Jeongguk repeats, releasing your arm, grunting a little as it heavily slumps onto his chest beside your face. He pokes your forehead and you wriggle away. “Stop being childish, and let’s go to sleep.”

You shoot bolt right up at that, and he can see the roses flaring across your cheeks in the sliver of moonlight that slips through the separation in the drapes. Before your glistening lips even part, he desperately wishes to swallow his words that you were instantly preparing to fire back at him.

“You stop being childish!” You start and he throws the sheets over his face with an exasperated moan, only to be confronted by your face, much closer, peering at him with a combination of anger and a plea once you had pulled the fabric back away. Being pissy never gets you anywhere with him, so you retrieve the gentle approach once again, clasping his face between your palms and pressing small kisses to the firm line of his lips among your calmer words. “Jeongguk, it will only be for tonight. Plus, you always say you wake up eating my hair, so give me the chance to experience that. Have the night off from being my protector.”

He was relenting, warmed clay beneath your hands, sighing against your mouth and watching you with those endearing onyx eyes that resemble galaxies, black infinities at this time of night. He coos, soft and sweet. “I like protecting you though, baby.”

“You melt me, really,” You smile with honest affection before it itches into a small smirk, already easing your body parallel to his. “So, is that a yes?”

Jeongguk appears to contemplate for the briefest of moments, watching you before rolling his eyes, and then physically rolling himself onto his side. A silent cheer of celebration erupts within your mind, displays on your features in an elated grin as you sidle up beside him, aligning your torso against his straight spine. You press your mouth to the dip there, loosely hanging your arm over his wide girth while keeping the other tucked into your chest, legs curling and slotting together with your toes barely brushing at his ankles. A sigh of satisfaction rushes from your lungs, finally having what you want, and he chuckles, rumbling against you.

“You are so small, it feels like I have a koala latching onto my back,” Jeongguk lifts a palm to rest on your thigh, patting it idly while he laughs, making you shape your body closer to his as though you are trying to prove that you can own this new position, the role of protector – the big spoon.

“Isn’t it nice without my hair all over your tongue though?” You murmur against the fabric of his shirt, your fingertips gliding beneath and feeling the neat expanse of muscle that adorns his abdomen, drawing soothing circles that make him shudder.

“I kind of miss it,” He admits, squeezing your thigh, moving up slightly to reach the hem of your panties, where he flicks at the elastic. “I love being able to look down at you, and I can easily slip my hand between– Hey!”

“Like this?” You giggle at his reaction to your hand settling on his crotch, smoothing gently over the grey fabric of his briefs with your palm. Jeongguk groans, squirms away, only making you grab onto him and his voice chokes in his throat. “You never let me escape from this when I am the little spoon, so don’t even think about it, buddy.”

The scoff that he makes is cut off by another meek moan, your fingertip tracing the outline of him before you decidedly give it a soft pet and then relax your hand, murmuring a quiet goodnight into his back and closing your eyes. Jeongguk waits, silently listening to the sound of your exhalations evening out, until gentle snores are slipping from your chest. Ever so slowly, he moves like an eel among the bedsheets, writhing and turning both of your bodies so that he has you in the usual position of his much larger frame wrapped around your own smaller figure. His broad palms delicately find your waist, pulling it across the mattress to fit against his, and then his arms loop across your torso, mouth burying in your neck, hair on his lips and all but who damn well cares when he has the reward of holding you like this.

Your voice, judging without the contempt, laughs quietly, still with the nails of sleep latching onto its tone. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

His chuckle fans out across your neck, warmth scattering over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh, followed by his palm settling home between your thighs. To keep it warm, he would always insist.

“When it comes to you, I never can.”