i admit i was a bit high

splinter (m)

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: angst, non-explicit smut / college au

» word count: 6,518

» description: Perhaps in their last moments together, the pieces won’t seem so broken. That maybe even with their jaded hearts they can salvage some replica of what it all once was. 

» note: there are mentions of cheating in this story

People love to talk about the ‘what ifs.’

What if they had just kept going, what if they had chosen a different path, what if things had just gone the way they had so desperately wanted them to? Humans torture themselves with these thoughts, all while urgently grappling at the threads of their memories that led to the fork in the road where things went awry. They ponder them tirelessly, wondering if they could’ve done something different, only to realize in the end that it didn’t matter because what was done was done. It was that simple, yet again, people still loved to talk, ponder, and torture themselves with the possibility of what if — However, in your personal experience, there was something much worse.

There was a sub-group of sorts to the what-ifs, called the ‘almosts.’ Almosts are burning flames of misery because they tease you by getting so heartbreakingly close to what you wanted. They were in your reach, resting on the tip of your tongue, only to dissipate before you could swallow it down and make it yours.

So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the-almosts. But what you were even less keen on was being in the same room as your almost, the thread of memories making the air thick as it wrapped its way around your throat.

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  • BBC Three: We're going to make #ClassDW the official hashtag for this show but do an abysmal job promoting it while creating confusion by tweeting from a bbcClass twitter handle.
  • Tumblr: Organically settles on "bbc class" as a the hashtag for the show.
  • BBC America, months later: Let's still make try to make #ClassDW a thing.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any recommendations for good queer mangas yourself? I've often found myself in the same position, it's so hard to find good queer media of any kind.

Their Story (Tamen de Gushi) is one of my favourites because of how sweet and funny it is. Fantastic humour and characters it’s about two high school girls falling in love (plus some great gay sideplots too). The art is really expressive and pretty and its all in colour. -ongoing-

Hidamari ga Kikoeru is a slow burn set in college about two guys, one of which is severely hearing impaired. It handles the subject of disabilities really realistically with respect and care, veering far away from using it as a cheap romance trope. The art is pretty appealing and despite it getting a little drama-y it has a good message and very sweet romance. -ongoing-

Doukyuusei (Classmates) is about two very different high school boys crossing paths. It has a great vibe and sweet characters, as well as a really beautifully done movie. The artstyle is different in a nice way, though I’ll admit its more appealing in the movie than the manga (the manga has moments where the anatomy feels off) but I still recommend both. -completed-

Both Seven Days (completed) and Okosama Star (ongoing) are cute, and despite dipping a bit into drama cliches like misunderstandings and overreactions I still like them. Though in the case of Okosama Star I mainly liked how the mouths were drawn lmao and I’m a sucker for characters that look scary but are sweet. I also remember really liking Slow Starter (ongoing) despite its more lacking art style at the beginning though it gets better, and if memory serves me correctly it has some extra one-shots in it too. I think Gunjou No Subete (completed) was a nice read too but its been a long time so i could’ve totally forgotten parts ‘3′

This is all I can really think of atm. I really wish i knew of more good queer girl love stories/shoujo ai, but there’s so many anime girl tropes that turn me off that its harder to root through (so if you have any recommendations I’d love to hear em!) Tbh i kinda avoid the yuri/yaoi tagged works in general since they’re often too uncomfortably fetish-y and obviously written for a straight audience for me, but even then there’s a couple gems here and there.

The wedding date, or; how to avoid the singles’ table

Originally posted by pcyeolkenthusiast

⚜  “I want- I needyoutobemyfakeboyfriend!”; “I have to admit, this isn’t the brightest idea you’ve ever had. Normally, when you don’t stand someone, they’re the last person you’d invite for this.” aka asking your coworker to a family’s wedding.

⚜ Chanyeol x reader ; office!au, friennemies, a tad bit of High school!au

⚜ 10,7k *sigh* did I just? yes, I just wrote my longest fic ever about this

Children, never sleep on your drafts for 6 months bc it’s hell :) I hope you enjoy reading~



The pile of work standing on your desk earns a groan from you, your head pounding from the long evening waiting for you.

Your eyes switch from the article you’ve been trying to get done, to the clock that marks exactly half an hour since the irritating disturbance had started. And from a scale of one to ten of how murderous your thoughts are, you’re pretty sure you’re hovering above an unhealthy fourteen.

You often wonder how strangely things work out in life, astonished by how the universe likes to carefully craft satirical situations to shake up the insignificant human existence. However, you’re not exactly as amused -heck, you’re even sure the deities love messing with you, trapping you in a tiny work space with your one and only rival from high school.

Park Chanyeol, always the charmer and still undoubtedly just as obnoxious as you remember him, just had to end up in the cubicle right across from yours. And although you’ve had a much-appreciated break from his gracing company during college, you’re still astounded at the cruelty of fate to pair you up with him.

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When We Collide (Part 5)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: PG-All

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

”No way! Seriously? They really kicked you out of college?”

You rolled your eyes and glared over at Nicole for being the gossip snitch, something she had been her whole life but you really had wished she would have kept this to yourself just for a while. It was, after all, pretty humiliating when you thought about it.

“You sound like you’re surprised, Joey.” You commented with a glimpse in the eye and lifted your beer up to your mouth, letting the taste explode your senses and cool down your pre-sweating forehead.

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“This is my boyfriend Dan, by the way” || Dan Howell

A/N: This was a really nice request I got, thanks for that. Also the title is a little bit different. Have a nice weekend! 

Word Count: 1.5K

POV: Reader

MASTERLIST

Originally posted by shinyphan

It all started on a Saturday morning. I was sitting on the breakfast table by myself. I munched on some toast and checked my emails, like I do it every morning. A cup of hot black coffee was cooling off next to my laptop that was in front of me.

All of the new messages were mostly spam and some business stuff but one email in particular caught my eye. As soon as I saw the title I instantly clicked on it:

“High School Reunion”

Suddenly I was filled with excitement and resentment at the same time.

As my eyes scanned the invite over and over again I heard Dan enter the kitchen. He was wearing his pyjama that consisted of boxers and a loose t-shirt and his hair was a curly mess that still managed to look good.

We had been best friends for years now and shared a flat together in London. Dan noticed my startled expression and immediately asked what the matter was with me.  

My eyes were still glued to the words ‘Partners are welcome as well’ as I answered him.  That sentence alone made me want to not go.

“I was just sent an invite to a high school reunion.” I explained while taking a sip from my coffee.

The dark liquid was still hot and nicely warmed my throat.

Dan yawned and poured some of his favourite cereal into a bowl.

“Why do you look like you were invited to a funeral then?” he asked me confused, as he added the milk and sat down on the table next to me.

“It’s says we should bring our partners and I don’t want to show up alone.” I sighed, the taste of coffee was still lingering on my tongue. It was as bittersweet as I felt right now.

Dan put his spoon, that he was eating his cereal with, down to eye me intensively.

“Why don’t you want to go there on your own?” he asked me, cocking one eyebrow.

I felt myself getting a little bit nervous and abashed. I played with my hands and sighed.  

“I always got teased because I didn’t date a single guy during high school. I kinda promised myself that by the time the first reunion comes around I would have a boyfriend.” I admitted embarrassed and tried to hide my flushed face behind my hair.

There suddenly was a hint of a smile on his lips but it only lasted a few milliseconds.

“Forget it, it’s stupid.” I quickly told him, shaking my head eagerly. I half-heartedly laughed about myself as I hid my face in my hands.

“It’s definitely not stupid, Y/N. If it means so much to you then I could go with you, Y/N” Dan whispered as he gave me a short but warm hug.

“Really?” I asked him in surprise. Was he really suggesting that?

“I’d do quite a lot to make you happy, even pretend to be your boyfriend.” He smiled down at me as I whispered a sincere ‘thank you’ against his broad chest.

We were that kind of best friends that everybody mistook for a couple anyway. We were pretty affectionate towards each other, in a platonic way of course. Making it look like we were in a relationship was therefore not a very challenging task.

I was still nervous though when I got dressed the following Friday. I wanted to make an impression. I wanted people to look at me and think ‘wow, she really made it.’ I wanted to prove all of those people who never saw my potential in high school wrong.  

“It’s just your friends from high school, Y/N.” Dan tried to calm me down as he walked in with his car keys in his hands.

I obviously didn’t grow up in central London, where our flat was, but in a small town about an hour away.

“I had like 4 close friends in high school, Dan.” I reminded him laughing.

I never tried to be popular or fit in, I found 4 wonderful friends and that was totally enough for me. My high school times were therefore quite drama free except for the fact that I was occasionally made fun of and told that I would stay single forever, of course.

We left our shared flat and drove to the place where we were going to meet up.

As soon as we got out of the car again, Dan automatically took my hand as if it was a totally normal thing to do. I looked up at him in surprise and stared at him with wide eyes until I caught on to what was happening.

We were here together, Dan was the ‘partner’ I brought along with me.

“Ohh” I mouthed, feeling a little blush make its way onto my cheeks. I hadn’t really thought about that.

I shot Dan a nervous look before we walked into the restaurant together where most of my old classmates were already waiting for everybody to arrive.

He reassuringly intertwined our fingers, making me smile.

I saw a lot of familiar faces, some hadn’t changed at all, some changed a lot. I didn’t stay in touch with anybody from high school, so I hadn’t seen anyone in almost 10 years.

“Hey Everyone!” I greeted all of them cheerfully.

Their heads turned and they eagerly eyed Dan and I up and down.

“Y/N Y/L/N is that you?” Kimberly, who had always been the straight A student, asked.

“Yeah, it’s me. C’mon I haven’t changed that much, have I? This is my boyfriend Dan, by the way.”

The last sentence felt weird and at the same time so… natural? Dan’s face beamed as the word ‘boyfriend’ left my mouth and I couldn’t hold back a sweet smile either. He said his greetings as well before we sat down at the huge table.

After everyone had arrived we ordered some drinks and started chatting. Everybody was asked to talk about what they have been up to since we all finished high school.

Then it was suddenly my turn.  

“Well… I work as a lawyer for Youtube and me and Dan live in London now.” I told everybody.

Most people seemed impressed by the words Youtube, London and lawyer. Our home town was quite small and boring. London on the other hand being a beautiful big city sounded exciting.

“You studied law?” Somebody asked and I nodded.

“Yes, at Manchester University, that’s where I met Dan.” I smiled up at my tall ‘boyfriend’.

“So, are you a lawyer as well, Daniel?” Stacy, one of our former cheerleaders asked.

Dan was definitely getting some attention from the female part of our group. I protectively placed my hand on his thigh to show everyone that he was with me… which he actually wasn’t.

In reaction, he showed me his famous half smirk, as if he were saying ‘jealous much?’. I rolled my eyes at him but we both knew that he was right deep down.

“I’m not.” Dan laughed at the thought. “I finished like one semester before I dropped out. I’m a Youtuber now. That’s how me and Y/N met again.”

I could tell that Dan was feeling awkward once again because he didn’t know if people understood his profession.

Luckily though most people did and were now really interested in what Dan was doing.

He was asked all sorts of questions, and most of the conversations were focused on the two of us now since everybody treated Dan like he was a super famous celebrity and those were extremely rare in my old hometown.

I was very proud of Dan while he explained his job and passion. He then talked about me and how we met and that honestly made my heart melt. Could this really be? Who knew that I had feelings like that for my best friend? Everybody but us two probably.

“Who would have thought that you Y/N, out of all people, would hit the jackpot.” Stacy uttered completely stunned and barely able to keep her eyes off Dan.

“Nah, I feel like I was the one who hit the jackpot.” he softly said, while looking at me with loving eyes. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as some people around us ‘awwed’.

“Dan, stop it.” I whined smiling and gently hit his chest before I leaned my head against his broad shoulder. We were behaving like two lovey dovey teenagers, which we, let’s be real, probably really were.  

“You two are perfect for each other.” Kimberly swooned like some of Dan’s fans on tumblr.

Dan and I’s gazes met as we both blushed.

“We are.” Dan whispered into my ear, making my heart skip a beat.

“Did you ever think about kissing me?”

When Cas looks to his side, Dean is looking at him. He can’t help but smile because of the flower crown in Dean’s hair and the expecting, nervous look on his sun kissed face.

“Yes.” Cas admits.

@jimminovak​ wrote a thing and I loved it sm that I had to draw it
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(I know they’re not lying down like in the fic I only realised that when I was almost done, rip me)

A Hairy Excuse

Nessian, 1.1K, Rated T

A/N: Cassian finds himself in Nesta’s bed, dumbfounded when his High Lady walks in. This turned out to be something that I wasn’t exactly expecting but am not upset with.


Cassian awoke with a wisp of hair in his mouth. Gently, he reached to remove the piece that had undoubtedly also stuck itself to the side of his face. Though as he moved, his hand first collided with a head that was most assuredly not his. He skipped analyzing this fact to pull the hair out, when he realized how long it was and who it smelt like.

He froze.

Cocooned against his chest, breathing softly in the early hours of the morning, was Nesta Archeron. Her head rested against his shoulder, spilling her tangles all over his chest. Wrapping around both of them was Cassian’s wing, which filtered the sunlight, so that the only rays hitting them were tinted. Cassian remembered walking Nesta home last night and her insistence that he come inside with her. There had been…intimacy, but not all the way. His puzzlement that morning had little to do with a blurry alcohol induced evening, and more to do with an astonishment that she let him stay.

With his Commanding duties becoming lighter after the war and her role as Emissary yet to become a full-time occupation, they’d spent time together. Platonic time, though time nonetheless. Personally, Cassian may have wanted more than just friendship, but if that was all Nesta was willing to offer, he would not argue. Coexisting seemed like enough, a sometimes painful reminder of what he couldn’t have. All he really wanted was for her to be happy, and she seemed great with them holding safe, easy interactions without any physical intimacy.

That was where his astonishment from this morning originated. Nesta never indicated that she wanted this before, and although they’d shared a few drinks, it was nothing they hadn’t done before or she couldn’t handle. Cassian’s only desire, however selfish it may be, was to stay here. Together they could very well never share this again. So Cassian lay there humbled by her petit frame, draped over half his body. Underneath her mouth, his shirt featured a small damp circle, hinting at a slight drool. Her arm wrapped around his torso, her hand curled gently inside his shirt.

Though, he was not acting all that innocent either. Nesta’s hip was cradled by his arm, keeping her body close to his. He also could feel the mess that was their legs further down the bed. Everything around them smelled faintly of Nesta, nothing heavy despite it being her room. The older Archerons didn’t have enough of their own possessions to lather a room in their scent. Nesta’s brow furled slightly, and her hand gripped him tighter causing Cassian to crane his neck and peck her forehead.

Cassian knew that she would want time alone to think about this new development between them or maybe, hopefully, she’d discuss it with him. As far as he understood, they were under no circumstance to share this event with anyone. That he knew for certain.

The door flew open.

“Hey, Nesta. Thought I’d let you know that breakfast is—“ The High Lady began from the doorway.

Cassian kept completely still, hoping like some idiot that Feyre would forget he was here. The next few moments stretched on for what felt like an hour.

“You’re not Nesta.“

“It’s not what it looks like,” he blurted very quickly.

“I can go,” she started.

Cassian stretched his wing a little farther, hoping beyond all hope that Nesta would not wake up. “I sure you think that Nesta and I slept together, but you have the completely wrong impression.”

“Cassian, it’s really none of my business. I’ll leave, no questions asked.”

“No, no. Nesta complained that her bed was too firm many times to me in the past, and I have always thought mine to be too soft. We devised a plan on which, What day of the week is it?”

“Thursday.”

“On the evening of the second Wednesday of every month we would swap beds, for whatever reason, this always seemed the night of worst sleep for us both. I have no idea about your sister, but I have never slept so well in my entire life.”

“In five hundred years, you’ve never slept like this.” He could hear the amusement in her voice.

Cassian thought himself a good liar, but this was absolutely atrocious. Not to mention that his wing still wrapped around him and Nesta, so he hadn’t even made eye contact with Feyre this whole interaction. “As a bastard in the camps, milady, it is quite difficult to find any sort of mattress, let alone one as comfortable as this one. My own room sports a bed that for years I have been meaning to replace, without ever finding the time.”

“So you’ve been sleeping on a crappy mattress for hundreds of years?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, perhaps a bit melodramatically for the situation which really attested to how thick he was laying it.

“You know I can see Nes—“ Feyre tried.

Cassian removed all the stops. “Ah! The High Lady has seen the tousled waves of my armpit hairs creeping out from my shirt. Your mate normally glamours them away from view, especially when I train shirtless. I am ashamed to admit that they grow like fiends and that nothing on this continent or this world has the ability to tame them.”

At that both the woman in the doorway and the form next to him broke into cackles. Feyre’s subsided rather quickly, but Nesta, still mostly hidden from view, roared with a laughter that shook her whole body and brought tears to her eyes.

“Your armpit hair?” Nesta wheezed between inhales.

“I thought—“ they made eye contact before Cassian then flicked his towards Feyre.

Nesta wiped the tears from her eyes and appeared to have mostly relaxed. “Feyre, we’ll be down in a second. Thanks.”

The door closing was the only indication that Feyre was ever there in the first place.

Nesta sat up, dragging herself out from under Cassian’s wing, which he reluctantly removed from her before perching up next to her.

“Cassian—“ she began.

“I’m sorry for staying over, I understand if you hate me for making it look like we slept together. I tried making that cover for us.”

She bit her lip as if to refrain from laughing again. “I don’t hate you, in fact, I found that whole interaction quite hilarious. Yes, I heard the whole thing,” she remarked, no doubt from reading his expression, “but it’s nice to know that you would go to such lengths for me.”

“Of course I would.”

A small smirk grew on her face. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I really don’t care what they think, not now anyway. Though, I do kinda care about the ungodly armpit hair. I think we may need some lessons in how to shave.”

He barked a laugh at that. “Maybe you can teach me how to control my underarm creature.”

“Maybe.“

Pink Lemonade

Summary: Richie Tozier finds himself in a sticky situation and is forced to hide in a closet for safety. He wasn’t expecting to find the space already occupied, and he defiantly wasn’t expecting to enjoy the company so much

A/N: So I did the thing…and I don’t regret it.

Word Count: 1858

Masterlist


Part: (1) 2 (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

Eddie hurried to his table for lunch, relived to find Stan and Bill sitting in their usual spots. With a sigh he sat across from them, letting his heavy backpack fall to the ground with a loud thud. The two boys ignored his presence, completely engrossed in their heated conversation. The smaller boy just shrugged them off, completely satisfied to be around his actual friends for the first time that day.

Richie had been bothering him nonstop since the end of first period. He gabbled, joked, prodded and followed him everywhere he went. No matter what he said, the trashmouth would just shrug it off, place an arm around him and say, “Aww, be nice to me Eds, you know you want to be my friend.” It was so frustrating and for some stupid, unhealthy reason, endearing.

“S-so have you finally s-shaken that Richie k-kid?” Bill asked, dropping the conversation with Stan who looked rather upset.

“Lost him in a crowd just before lunch. Hopefully he doesn’t eat in the quad.” Eddie replied, taking a bite of his lunch. “I’ve never seen him over here before.”

“Riche? As in steal a cheerleaders pom-poms and dance during the pep-rally and getting suspended, Richie?” Stan questioned, annoyance lacing in his tone.

“Y-yeah.” Bill replied, smirking. “He’s g-got a c-crush on E-Eddie. T-they came o-out of t-the closet t-together after s-school yesterday.”

Eddie could feel his ears redden, “It’s not what it sounds like.” He protested, sneering towards Bill. “We just hid in the same place and-“

“Look, I don’t care.” Stan replied grumpily, obviously still fumed from the conversation before. “Just keep that kid away from our group. Just looking at him gives me a headache.”

“I’m trying my best.” Eddie admitted, taking another bite of his food, feeling slightly annoyed at Stan’s harsh tone. “He’s just so-so-“

“Handsome, perfect, the sexiest thing since high heels.” Eddie froze, the obnoxious voice behind him booming in his ears. He looked beside him just in time to watch Richie Trashmouth Tozier take a seat beside him. “Lost you for a bit there Eds, wasn’t sure where you ate lunch.”

There was a loud groan from the small kid, “Did I say something to you yesterday to imply that this was okay? Because if I did, I take it back.” He sneered, only earning a smile from the boy beside him.

Richie shrugged, his attention suddenly on the other two boys in the group. He pulled a cigarette from behind his ears and placed it between his lips, smirking. “Hey there Billy, haven’t seen you since yesterday, how have you been?”

Bill looked to Eddie, confused. “F-fine.” He muttered as Richie light his death stick.

“You can’t smoke out here.” Stan hissed, leaning over the table to pull the damn thing from Richie’s teeth only to have him lean out of reach.

“Easy there big boy, at least buy me dinner before you get all handsy.” The trashmouth joked, exhaling a long drag. “I don’t think we’ve met and since Eddie bear only has two friends, I’m guessing you’re the bird boy?”

“H-his name’s S-Stan.” Bill corrected, earning a sharp eye from his friends.

Richie chuckled, “Stan the man.” He jested, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. “It’s great to meet you, my new friend.”

“Eddie, get him out of here.” Stan grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “Now.”

“What do you want me to do?” Eddie asked, feeling his irritation peak at Stan’s boorishness. “He’s not a dog.”

“He sure follows you around like one!” Stan replied harshly.

“Woof, woof.” Richie joked, taking another drag from his cigarette and blowing it towards the grumpy boy across from him. Stan opened his mouth to shriek in anger only to be stopped by the red hair girl who sat beside Richie.

She smiled and nodded to group before turning towards Richie, “There you are, is this our new spot? It’s nice.”

Richie beamed, wrapping his arm around the girl before announcing, “Boys, this is my good friend Beverly Marsh. Bev, this is Bill, Stan and-“

“Eddie.” She finished, gently extending her hand out for the small boy. Eddie looked over to Bill who only shrugged. They shook hands and Beverly grinned, “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s nice to finally meet you!”

“The fuck is happening?” Stan hissed.

“I have no fucking clue.” Eddie admitted, shaking the pretty girls hand firmly.

“I like them.” Beverly announced, dropping Eddie’s hand and taking out her own cigarette, which Richie lit. “They seem cool.”

Eddie felt his head spin, he looked to Richie who only winked. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and spoke in a slow, calm voice. “Okay look, I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just-“

“Beverly did you get the notes from Chemistry, I lost mine.” A stout boy asked, taking a seat beside Bill. He nodded towards the awkward stares of the others and smiled. “I was going to ask you earlier but you weren’t in our usual spot.”

“This is our new spot.” Beverly replied softly. “Ben, this is the group. That’s Bill, Stan and-“

“Eddie. Got it.” Ben finished, smiling a shit-eating smile at the small boy. Eddie could practically feel head explode. How in the hell did these people know who he was? What the fuck was Richie telling them?

Stan stood from the table, his face turning crimson. He looked to Eddie who completely ignored his sudden puff of confidence. With one final breath he challenged the root of the problem, looking over to Richie. “Okay, you guys are not in our group so you all need to-“

“Jesus, there you are Rich.” A tall, well-built boy huffed, squeezing on the end by Beverly. He adjusted his letterman jacket nodding to Stan who had frozen mid-sentence. “The captain of the football team is looking to kick your ass, what did you do to him?”

Stan let out defeated sigh. “Why is happening?” He murmured before sitting down into his spot and thumping his head against the table with a grunt. “Now there’s seven.” He whispered under his breath and Bill began to rub his back for support. “We were only three.”

Richie chuckled, “Mike, meet Stan, Bill, and-“

“Yeah Eddie.” Mike waved, dismissing the introductions, Eddie groaned loudly. “I’m being serious Rich, he is going to kill you. He’s saying that you called him a faggot.”

“Well technically I did.” Richie replied with a huff, smoke trailing out of his nostrils. “It was like I was telling Eds here, that kid is a closeted homosexual and he refuses to come out with the rest of us.” He smirked, nodding towards Eddie, “Pun intended.”

Mike rolled his eyes, “Yeah well your lucky you’re my friend.”

“So you took care of it?” Richie practically squealed, Mike nodded. “Oh man, you’re the best Mikey.”

“Is this our new spot?” Mike asked, looking around the quad and smiling. “I like it, much better than Richie’s truck.”

Eddie felt a burning in his chest, suddenly overwhelmed by their now crowded table. “Okay, what in the hell just happened? How do you people even know my name?” He demanded, looking at the new faces at the table.

“Your dog brought his puppies.” Stan mocked, lifting his head from the table. “We are a group of seven now.”

Eddie looked to Richie, who smiled his contagious smile. The small boy narrowed his eyes, feeling annoyance claw at skin. It was Beverly who broke his concentration, blowing smoke into the air she smiled and insisted, “You’ll love us Eddie. Trust me, we will all get along just fine.”

Eddie’s gaze faltered, looking around the others who, minus Stan, smiled in support. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in effort to ward away the eventual headache he was going to receive. “Fuck me.” He hissed, mostly to himself.

Richie chuckled, “If you’re offering than su-.” He was abruptly cut off by Beverly’s elbow in his ribs.


The smoke swirled around the cab of the truck, creating a heavy fog that consumed them. Richie sat in the driver’s seat, holding the blunt between his fingers and taking one long drag. He smiled, blowing the smoke on to the steering wheel. He admired the way it danced with the leather before becoming a part of the accumulated fog. God, he enjoyed hot boxing,

Beverly accept the drug, pulling her own drag through the now demised roll. She pushed her back against the passenger side door, sparling her legs across Richie’s lap. The smoke exited her mouth beautifully, “I think you about gave Eddie a conniption during lunch.” She joked, smirking at her best friend.

Richie accepted the blunt back, frowning at how little they had left. “Nah, he took it better than I expected.” He mused, taking in a drag. “Stan sure freaked out though, thought he was going to explode.”

“He was okay after a while, really warmed up to Mike and Ben I thought.” She shrugged, smirking slightly at the curly haired boy with the overly red face. Richie handed her what remained of their recreation, taking in the last drag before putting out the fire in his ashtray. “So are we going to talk about it or what?”

“Or what?” Richie joked, leaning his head back against the headrest and breathing the lingering smoke around them.

Beverly scoffed, “Come on Rich, why in the hell did you have us do all that?”

“Because there wasn’t any way Eddie would have brought his small group to my truck.” He admitted, keeping his eyes closed. “We would have just freaked him out and he would have turned tail and ran. This way he was forced to accept us.”

“Why does he have to accept us?”

Richie raised his head, looking over to his friend. He mulled over the question, debating what exactly the reason was for his shenanigans during lunch. It was known that his sense of humor was off the wall crazy and his friends usually just went along with whatever half assed plan he had come up with but when he had told them about this it had been different. Richie made sure they knew Eddie’s name, knew which one he was because it was important. It was important to him that the small boys group knew his, became apart his and yet he honestly didn’t know why. So he shrugged, feeling the tingling in his face linger on his nose. “He just had to okay?”

“Awe, does Tozier have a crush?” She cooed, rubbing his chest with her shoe.

He pushed her foot away and scoffed, “I don’t do cruses Bev.” He corrected, “I suck off football players in the bathroom and sleep with their cheerleader girlfriends that night. I don’t do that high school dating bullshit. How long have you known me?”

“So then what is Eddie?” She asked, crossing her feet in his lap. “Is he just your new project or something?”

“No, this isn’t some romantic comedy.” Richie replied, maybe too harshly. “He’s our new friend.”

Beverly smiled.

— bones | 04 (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader // min yoongi x reader, college! hoseok, college! yoongi
genre/warnings— angst, smut, friends with benefits
words 9,074

:: summary— you were broken from a past relationship, and Hoseok wanted to fix you, but what price was he willing to pay? Would he end up worse off, or would you realise in time, that your best friend was the one…?

noteinspired by this song here.

  » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05  ✓

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A Return to Love: The Rebirth of BatCat.

It all started off in the most inauspicious way:

This final cell at the end of Batman # 9 marked the introduction of Catwoman to Rebirth. To say it was controversial would be the understatement of the year. However, little did we all know that this was the beginning of something major for the Bat and Cat relationship.

From the get go, it was clear that this version of BatCat was not the one we saw in New 52. There was something more, deeper, like there was prior to Final Crisis:

No matter what she said, Batman refused to believe she murdered all those people. He would do whatever it took to prove Catwoman was innocent. Whenever they spoke, it was clear that the feelings for each other were still there.

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Captain America Imagine - Jealousy

Author’s Note: I’m finally getting some time to write requests. They’re closed until I’ve written a few of them because I have over 100. Enjoy!

Your P.O.V.

My life had been a roller coaster ride ever since I had joined the Avengers. I bumped into them in New York during the chitauri attack as I used my abilities to help innocent people. During the fight, I met Captain America who introduced me to Tony Stark aka Iron Man. It didn’t take long until I was part of the team.

Now I was casually walking across the kitchen in the Avenger’s secret base. It wasn’t too secretive since a few people had already discovered it. My own apartment got destroyed in New York so now I lived here permanently. Tony had gotten me a big room with almost everything I could think of. 

I was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a green tank top. My hair was in a messy ponytail and I didn’t have much make-up on. It was still early and I would workout to stay fit. I just leaned against the counter as I waited for my coffee. That’s when the doors opened and Thor walked in. 

‘‘Good morning Y/N’‘ He smiled warmly and walked over to me. ‘‘Morning’‘ I chirped rather happily. We were good friends. Another person walked in and I learned it was Steve. He was wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants. I couldn’t help but to blush slightly as I saw him so I looked away, focusing on Thor. Little did they know I had feelings for Steve. It hurt because I feared he saw me as just a friend.

‘‘Did you sleep well?’‘ Thor wanted to know as he opened the fridge, the yellow light illuminating his bearded face, making his blue eyes stand out. ‘‘If you consider two hours of sleep well then yes’‘ I sighed and then glanced at Steve. He caught me looking at him which made me a little nervous. 

I hated this feeling. We were very close and now I was avoiding him. I believed it was for the best but it ached my heart, a lot

‘‘Did you sleep well?’‘ I asked Thor his own question. He grabbed the milk and then he stopped to think. ‘‘I did. But I had this strange dream..’‘ The God of Thunder muttered the last words underneath his breath. It filled me with curiosity and confusion.

   So Thor and I chatted for a while, mostly about his dreams until he left the kitchen. I was alone with Steve. My heart began beating harder as I tried to pour myself a cup of coffee. My hands were trembling and I almost spilled it on the marble counter. Apparently he wanted coffee too so soon he was beside me and my entire body was tense.

‘‘You’re avoiding me, Y/N’‘ Steve stated the obvious. He was standing beside me so I couldn’t leave. Great, just great! I could tell he was hurt and angry by the way he spoke and of course, I felt guilty. ‘‘Why would you think so?’‘ I pretended to be innocent which was a foolish thing to do. Steve sighed and put his cup down harshly. I grew so nervous that I sipped my coffee so I wouldn’t have to speak.

‘‘We’re still able to be friends even if you have found someone’‘ He told me almost sadly. His words made me swallow my coffee quickly, nearly choking in process. That’s when I put my cup away as well, shocked he thought I had found someone. As I faced Steve, I could tell he seemed jealous.

‘‘Steve, I-I haven’t found anyone’‘ I whispered, realizing now that I had made a mistake by ignoring him. It just made me feel stupid and cruel. ‘‘You don’t have to lie to me’‘ He mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. ‘‘Is it Thor?’‘ He continued, once again surprising me. I shook my head no, too dazed to even form words. This situation didn’t even feel real.

How could I tell him that I didn’t want anyone else than him without ruining our friendship?

‘‘Steve, listen to me’‘ I sighed and felt a knot in my stomach. My nerves were beginning to burn as I prepared myself for whatever would happen. Steve’s bright eyes were locked with mine and he nodded although he didn’t seem too happy. ‘‘I’m sorry I ignored you. It’s just that..’‘ I attempted to finish my sentence but the meaningful words got lost in my throat.

Steve raised his eyebrow at me, almost curiously. By now, my cheeks were warming up and my heart rate was dangerously high. ‘’I have these thoughts, I guess’’ I chuckled lightly, still not ready to face the truth. ‘’What do you mean?’’ He asked me softly, his grumpiness slowly fading away. 

‘‘Fine, please don’t judge me if you don’t feel the same way but I like you and I was just scared to ruin what we have- yeah’‘ I pushed all the words out of my mouth and as I finished, I felt both relieved and anxious. At first, I was too scared to face him. But as I did, I noticed how surprised he seemed. Steve’s lips were parted and he was holding his breath. 

Tears stung my eyes and I looked away, ashamed I just said what I had. ‘’That’s..’’ Steve tried to answer but he choked on his words. ‘’I’m sorry’’ I whispered and inhaled a deep, shaky breath. ‘’No! No, it’s amazing’’ Steve admitted happily and I felt his hands grabbing mine. My eyes widened and I faced the man in front of me, pondering whether this was a dream or not.

‘‘Wait, what?’‘ I asked him quietly. Steve glanced at my lips and then he looked deeply into my eyes. ‘‘I like you too, more than a friend. I was afraid you had found someone else and that’s why you had ignored me’‘ He let me know his honest thoughts. It was way too good to be true. 

My body was filled with joy and a tingly sensation covered my lips. I was ecstatic by this new information I heard. Happily, I stepped on the tip of my toes and cupped Steve’s face, feeling his short stubble beneath my sensitive skin. His hands moved to my face and he held my jaw gently as his other hand held the back of my head.

Then our lips crashed together, molding perfectly against each other. By now, my entire body felt like a shaken bottle of soda. His warm lips felt amazing against mine. I tilted my head slightly to deepen our nervous yet passionate kiss. Then we parted, staring into each other’s eyes once again.

‘‘I have waited a long time to do that’‘ Steve admitted, his cheeks having a pinkish tint on them. He was a true gentleman and it just melted my heart. As I opened my mouth to answer him, someone else spoke up.

‘‘Finally! God! I have been betting high bets with people about whether you’d finally confess your feelings to one another this month or not’‘ Tony’s voice was loud and it alarmed everyone. Both Steve and I turned to look at Tony who had seen everything and now he had a sly smile on his face. I couldn’t help but to blush a little bit.

‘‘Did it happen?’‘ Natasha yelled from the living room and I heard footsteps coming closer. Of course, how typical of them. I glanced at Steve who offered me a smile as his hand lowered to touch my shoulder so he could keep me close. ‘‘Thanks Tony’‘ I sighed but failed to conceal my happy smile. 

I guess mornings weren’t that bad after all. 

raw | jackson wang

pairing: jackson x reader

genre: smutty smut smut

word count: 2,411

summary: I was feeling saucy so this is just some good hard fucking with a lot of bdsm and nasty nasty kinks, beware!

dedicated to: a rat who privately requested this. happy birthday ugly! (wish this hoe a happy birthday by liking this 🌚)

The blonde man in the expensive black suit sat across from me, “I’ll be your dominant, you’ll be my submissive. You’re sure you can handle it, correct? I’m not going to waste my precious time if you think you’re unsure about what you’ll let me do to you. And most importantly, try not to catch any feelings. It gets in the way.” he looked bored.

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2

My New Henry Big Boy in .357 mag/.38 Special

About a month and a half ago I used my tax refund to buy this beautiful new lever action rifle. The Henry Big Boy is a lever action produced by Henry Repeating Arms Co., one of their many lever action products. Mine is chambered in .357 magnum, many of their rifles are chambered in pistol caliber cartridges, hearkening back to the days of the Old West when Winchester lever actions were chambered in cowboy pistol cartridges such as .44-40 and .45 Colt. The Henry Big Boy comes in .357, .44 mag, and .45 colt. Since mine is .357, it can also feed and chamber .38 special as well.  I bought this possibly as a short range hunting rifle, something to use when I don’t feel like using my flintlock.  Plus, since it can fire .38 special, it is a very economical plinking gun.  .357 is a fairly powerful pistol cartridge, but from a rifle it sports some very impressive ballistics, and it’s certainly good enough to take medium sized game at short ranges.

The most notable feature of the Big Boy is its brass frame. They also offer the same model with an iron frame, a checkered stock, and rubber butt pad. I considered buying that one because it would probably be more practical as a rifle to lug through thick woods. However the lovely gleam of it’s brass frame, brass butt plate, and brass barrel bands was too much to resist.  It will probably get scratched, oh well, it was worth it. The rifle features a neat hexagon barrel, adding to its nostalgic old timey look and giving you the feeling that you are handling an old fashioned cowboy gun. It features a ten round fixed magazine, which is loaded through a loading port at the end of the barrel.  To load the magazine port must be twisted and magazine rod removed. Then you insert the cartridges one at a time, then re-insert the magazine rod.

When I first bought this rifle the magazine rod was very hard to twist and operate.  However the more and more I work it, the more its wearing in and its becoming progressively easier.

Often the Henry Golden Boy and Big Boy is mistaken as a replica of the American Civil War era Henry M1860 lever action rifle. However this is not true. Rather, the Big Boy is almost like a hybrid of a Henry rifle, a Winchester Model 1866, and a Marlin Model 336.  It has the loading port system and tube magazine of the Henry, the forearm and brass frame of a Winchester M1866, and a Marlin action.  Regardless you still get this feeling of handling and firing an antique cowboy lever gun, a must for my tastes. The sights are simple, featuring and adjustable ramp rear sight and a front post sight.

Another feature I must mention is a transfer bar, which means you can have the hammer uncocked and down on a round without risk of accidental discharge, which is probably the most important modern feature on a rifle with design elements dating to the 19th century.

With .357 the action is very smooth and operates without any problem.  I did some plinking with both .357 and .38 special.  I purchased some cheap bottom shelf ammo not thinking about the possibility of feeding issues. Problem is I bought this really cheap .38 special ammo that used lacquered steel casings, and ejection was certainly is issue. I later bought some better quality .38 special with brass casings and found they fed with far less issues, though the action isn’t as smooth as with .357 and you kind of have to work the lever harder and faster to ensure proper feeding and ejection. The recoil is very light, even firing .357 magnum. Recoil wise I would compare it to 7.62x39.  So it will definitely save your shoulder despite the brass buttplate.

At first I just did some simple close range plinking at steel swivel targets at 25 yards.  The rifle hits right on at that range and it certainly is a fun plinker.  Then I took it to the 100 yard range to see what I can do. I must admit I had a bit of a handicap shooting, I work night shift and it was a particularly bright day. So my eyes were very sensitive to light and my vision a bit blurry. I think I’m turning into a vampire. 

I was shooting from a bench rest with open sights, using Fiocchi .357 magnum ammo with 142 grain bullets.  I was firing three rounds groups.  First I tested it at 50 yards. At 50 yards the target and visible and well defined. Note that each increment on the grid is one inch.

The first group shot to the right and high aiming at the bull. I decided to play with the adjustable ramp sight, lowering it one increment.  The result was the 2nd group, which shot low.  Thus I reset the sight and adjusted but aiming low, and to the left, resulting in the third group. At 50 yards it shoots on average 1-2 inch groupings.

I then continued by shooting at 100 yards.  At 100 yards the front sight completely covers the bullseye and black portion of the target.

Despite increasing range to 100 yards it still shot high, in fact it shot much higher than at 50 yards. The first grouping I was aiming right for the bull, resulting again in a high group, with one shot completely off the target. I can only assume know that the .357 magnum’s ballistic arc from this rifle is much more considerable than I had previously imagined.  Thus I adjust the the ramp sight down one increment. Like at 50 yards it then shot too low (2nd group). So I reset the sight and decided to aim low, resulting in the third group. At 100 yards it shoots around 2-3 inch groupings on average.

In my final test, I went back to 50 yards. This time I was not using the bench rest, instead firing off hand.  Nor was I taking time with my shots.  Basically the scenario was that I am the sheriff of a western town and some outlaws are up to no good and I have to deal with them.  So I was shooting as quickly as possible while keeping rounds on target.  This was the result.

Now I must say this is no tack driver, nor is it a long range rifle, and I bought it with that expectation. Ballistics data using a 140 grain bullet show that it has a drop of -.2 inches at 100 yards and -5 inches at 150 yards.  So 100 yards is probably the edge of its optimum range. Mine seems to shoot high, but I still would not go beyond 100 yards.  That is fine to me since where I traditionally hunt it is thick woods and there is rarely any continuous ground more than 75 yards. With a scope you could probably get much better range and accuracy out of it. I imagine that if I was using much better quality ammunition with hotter loads, say +P or buffalo bore ammunition, the groupings would tighten considerably at 100 yards and the adjustable sites will be much more useful.  I shall try that some time in the future and post the results.

My final comments on the Henry Big Boy had to do with its quality. Originally I wanted to buy a Rossi Circuit Judge in .410/.45 long colt, most because of the allure of a revolving rifle.  However, I had seen many complaints about the quality of it and manufacturing flaws. Plus it carried the Taurus name (Rossi is owned by Taurus), a Brazilian company which has a reputation for iffy quality control.  So I decided to ditch the Circuit Judge. I also looked at the Ross M1892 lever action rifle, also in .357/38 and also made by Taurus.  It was $300 cheaper (the Henry cost $730), but when I saw it in person I was not impressed.  The metal work was OK, as was the metal finish, done satisfactorily but nothing thrilling.  However the wood and wood finish looked bad, as if it had been done by either child labor, a drunk, or someone who just didn’t really care about what they were doing.  It was really off putting.  The Henry looks like a rifle of unparalleled quality at first glance. It looks like someone made them with an eye for detail and with uncompromising quality in mind. I also own a Henry lever action in .22LR as well, although with a steel frame, and I can say the same for it.  When the sales person took it out of the box I immediately blurted “holy shit, that’s a beautiful rifIe.” I can’t stress the quality of workmanship that goes into Henry rifles, they are more than just firearms, they are works of art.  They are the only metallic cartridge firearms I own and I have no plans nor feel the need to buy any other modern firearms again. Instead I want to focus my collection on antique muzzleloaders or replicas of antique muzzleloaders.  So for me the quality of the Henry trumps all else, its a rifle you can own for a lifetime and can be passed down from generation to generation.

anonymous asked:

Pssst. If you're still looking for Timmy prompts, I'm a sucker for sick!Tim. Bonus if he's in "work 'till I drop" mode. And actually collapses before anyone really puts together what's up with him.

I feel like this isn’t quite what you were hoping for, but I tried? Uni is stressing me out a bit at the moment and as a result I’m in a bit of a creative slump so this is a lot shorter than I would have liked and probably terrible but oh well at least it’s finally posted.

Probably set either not too long after Bruce adopts Tim or while his dad is in a coma.

He can hear Tim’s voice arguing with someone when he arrives at the front office, which is reassuring. Or maybe not so much, because Tim tends to get more snappish and argumentative when he’s not alright. Bruce takes a second to school his features into something resembling neutrality - if too much concern leaks through, Tim will either retreat into himself or lash out at him as well, both of which would be counterproductive - without looking disinterested and pushes the door open to step inside. 

Tim’s eyes are wide when they latch onto him, shimmering with frustration that nobody believes his claims that he’s fine. He opens his mouth - presumably to protest being taken home - but the school receptionist gets in first with a relieved, “Mr Wayne, thank you for coming.”

“Of course,“ Bruce says. He sits down next to Tim, looking him over. He doesn’t like what he sees; too pale, dark smudges under his eyes, cheeks tinted pink, a slight squint as he tries to glare past the headache pounding behind his eyes. 

“They told me you passed out. How do you feel?”

Tim lifts a hand to scrub at his eyes, prickling with heat beneath the sheen of exhausted tears he’s trying desperately to keep at bay. "I didn’t pass out,” he protests. “Just got a little dizzy ’s all.”

“That’s not the bit that was a question, Tim,” Bruce says firmly. He catches Tim’s hand and pulls it away from his face, pressing his own knuckles to his cheek to gauge how high his fever is. “And I expect an honest answer.”

Tim huffs, but he leans into Bruce’s touch, eyes closing as he admits in a whisper, “Not fantastic.”

It’s an understatement if Bruce has ever heard one, but it’s better than nothing.

Despite how exhausted he clearly looks, his pulse is racing when Bruce presses two fingers against the point beneath his jaw. Bruce frowns. “How much coffee have you had today?”

“I couldn’t miss school, B.”

“Tim. How many cups?”

“Four? Five? I dunno.” Tim leans a little more heavily against him. “Everything’s… hazy. ’S moving too fast.”

Way too much coffee and not enough sleep then. A bad enough combination on its own, but when he seems to be coming down with something as well…

“Okay. Let’s get you home and into bed.”

Bruce stands up and pulls Tim to his feet as well. The teen sways slightly and Bruce tucks him against his side, an arm around his shoulders for support. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Tim’s eyes are focused on putting one foot in front of the other but he tilts his head enough that Bruce can see a smile playing over his lips. “I know,” he replies quietly, then adds almost to himself, “’S weird being picked up by a parent.”

Bruce’s heart clenches. Tim is clearly out of it, or he’d never let even that small detail about his crappy childhood slip out. He wonders how often Tim battled through school with a fever because nobody was at home to take care of him, or how often he felt a spark of hope when someone was called to pick him up, only for it to be crushed out when it was just one of his many nannies. Tim stumbles going down the front steps of the school and Bruce automatically hugs him a little tighter. He makes a vow to himself, as Tim smiles gratefully, open and lopsided with exhaustion and fever, that he’s going to be here for this kid more than he has been, make sure he knows that he’s loved and wanted no matter what. Starting with taking him home and letting Alfred fuss over him.

I’m about to go on a little bit of a rant. 

Even though I am not neurotypical and surround myself with neurodiverse friends, I used to have a little bit of confusion when people said they were opposed to functioning labels. All the neurodiverse people I knew, for the most part, could pass as neurotypical, or at least be able to do things like drive and attend college, and I admit I hadn’t spent much time with the people who get labeled “low functioning.” I was “high functioning,” as were my friends, but 
I’d certainly know a low functioning person when I saw them, right?

hahahaha. 

I now work at a non-profit that serves neurodiverse people; usually people on the autism spectrum. All over the spectrum, mind you. And here was where I really, REALLY realized functioning labels are bullshit. 

For example, “Annie.” Annie is what I assume people mean when they say “low functioning.” Annie is mostly nonverbal, cannot drive, stims in public, etc. She cannot pass as neurotypical. 

Annie loves opera. She loves the stories, the music, the characters. She listens to operas in four languages, and understands all these languages, not because she’s somehow superpowered, or a savant, just because she liked them and decided to study these languages, like any person who has a deep interest would take it upon themselves to do.

Annie has gone to see performances at the met. Annie felts, and makes wool crafts which are sold on etsy. 

Annie is great. Annie is just one of the people who finally made me realize functioning labels are a sack of shit. Someone who’s uneducated in these things will see Annie in the grocery store and assume she’s like a child who needs to be minded. Meanwhile she’s thinking about going home to listen to some Italian arias while she works on her etsy goods so fuck your functioning labels in the ass. 

iciitearz  asked:

3/5 + Chanyeol (☁️🔥) haha i can’t wait to see what you’ll do with this

  DRABBLE! 3/5 X CHANYEOL☁️🔥 (smut warning)
Woo second Drabble! Hope you like it hun! -M
(Also a little context before we begin, this is based at uni and I’m from the UK and in the UK when you go to uni you share an apartment complex with like 8 other random people so that’s kinda the situation here okay thanks bye)


Your eyes struggled to stay open as you flicked through the text book that layed open on the kitchen counter. The whole apartment complex had fallen asleep by now, and you probably should have aswell. By the numerous cups of coffee you had endulged in, trying to keep yourself from passing out, you should probably be bouncing off the walls by now. But the countless sleepless nights you were having, it seemed as if nothing would work.

Your eyes looked up to the clock that hung above your shared fridge and felt your motivation plumet. A long exasperated groan left your mouth and you rested your head on the table, twiddling your blunt pencil between your fingers. It was currently 2:54AM and your psychology exam started in less than nine hours. 

You never usually left everything to the last minute. If this were a different exam at a different time, you would have probably been speaking this case study of the amygdala part of the brain controlling impulsive emotions. But now, wasn’t like that. Exam week had crawled up behind you on all fours, bearing its teeth and chasing you right down an ally to fail. 

Revision cards seemed to cloud your vision and it probably didn’t help that you were resting your head on - what now - seemed like the most comfiest text book ever, that your breathing became slower and everything started to fade away.

“Y/n?” 

Your head shot up stright away. Panic over came you as soon as your eyes had opened: was it morning already? Had you missed your exam? You weren’t ready yet, it couldn’t be morning already!

Your head scanned the room, spinning left to right, to gather your surroundings. Your cups of coffee was still there, your text book was opened on the exact same page as you had left it.

It’s like three in the morning, what are you doing up?” The groggy voice spoke again and instantly, a wave of relief washed over you; you still had nine hours left. You relaxed back into your seat and looked up to see the voice who had woken you up.

You were met with heavy eyes and a very tall figure who wore a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a black hoodie. You recognised the guy as Chanyeol as he stood rubbing his face roughly with his hands. Chanyeol was one of your roomates that you’ve lived with for around eight or so months now. If you were honest, you never saw much of him as he was barely at the flat and you two studied completely different things, but everytime the two of you were both at the apartment at those rare moments, there was always sexual tension. Maybe it was just because from the very moment you found out you would be living with this man, your mind couldn’t help but wonder, but it was still there, and considering his cheekiness around you, you couldn’t help but believe it was two-sided.

Breaking your thought process, Chanyeol came to join you at the counter next to you and looked at your books. Honestly, this was probably the most awake you’d felt in a week. His strong manly scent washed over you, and you coudn’t help but stare at the forming stubble around his jaw.

“Psychology. I have a psychology exam tomorrow, so I’m revising.” You explained to him slowly and watched as a small smirk started to form on his lips.

“Didn’t look like you were revising to me.” Chanyeol looked at you and raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t deny how hot he looked right now and quickly looked away from him and back to your text book.

“Well I have been, just nothing seems to be working.” You gathered all of your revision cards and put them in a pile, but Chanyeol grabbed them as soon as you had placed them back down onto the counter, turning towards you and leaning an elbow on the surface.

“I’ll test you.” His voice was still croaky from his previous sleeping state, even though you probably didn’t sound much different. You were too tired to object or question him and watched as he flicked through the cards.

“Is the amygdala involved in the enhancement of all types of memory, or just emotional memory?… wait, what the fuck is an amygdala?” You couldn’t help but let out a small, tired laugh at how he mispronounced the part of the brain.

“It’s a part of the brain that controls emotions like fear and anger.” You explain to him and his frown just gets bigger. “It just effects emotional memory.” You say to move on with the cards. You watch as he flips the piece of paper over and smiles.

“You were right.” His hand comes up to ruffle your hair and you can already feel your cheeks heat up. At this rate, you’re unsure if this is going to help you, or make everything worse.

Why are you helping me?” You ask him before he continues, because honestly you thought he would just nod, grab a glass of water then go back to his room.

“Because you were literally asleep in a pile of your own regret about leaving revision to the last minute?” He laughs and shakes his head. You could feel one of his large hands rest on your bare lower thigh, just above your knee. You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little exposed in your pajama shorts, but before you could say anything, he continued.

“Okay next one…” Chanyeol clears his throat with a strong cough, “How stable is activation in the amygdala and prefrontal cortext in adolesence?”

You mind instantly went blank. You were raking your brain, trying to picture what was on the back of that card. Your teeth began to grind and you began to look everywhere and anywhere. You mind was trying so hard to focus, until you could feel little circles begin to draw themselves on your leg.

Your heart began thudding and you desperately wanted to both get the answer right, and never let this end.

“The amygdala and prefrontal cortex both fluctuate their activation stability depending on the age and environment of the subject during the adolescence.” You were squeezing you eyes a shut as they would go, and let out a long breath  right after you gave the answer. You opened your eyes to see Chanyeol looking at the back of the card, his smirk returning.

“See, you’re smarter than you think.” He moves his chair closer to you, causing his hand to slide further up your leg. You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fell in front of your face when your eyes were closed and tried to just focus on revising. Now really wasn’t the time to be thinking about fucking your really hot roomate on the counter eight and a half hours before your exam.

“How about this one, name all six ways you can avoid triggering the amygdala.”

You looked up at him and your heart dropped. This was the goddamn question you could never answer, you could only ever get up to at most three, let alone six. 

“Um…” You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought. “Attend meditation classes?” Chanyeol nodded and hummed, his hand beginning to stroke your leg back and fourth. You took a breath. 

“You could… create lists for everything to increase the feeling of control and stability!”

He nodded again and you could see the corners of his mouth tug into a grin as he placed the cards down on the counter, and placed both of his legs on your thighs, looking right at you. “Good girl.”

Maybe it was just the coffee finally kicking in, or maybe it was the fact that he just called you a ‘good girl’, but you started to feel extremely awake right now.

“Keep going y/n, you still have four left.”

Your eyes scanned his face and you became desperate to impress him.

“Um, you could improve your diet by increasing your iron intake which would give you more rational thoughts during the day!”

“You’re really getting the hang of this now, aren’t you baby?” His hands pulled you closer to him by your thighs, slightly spreading them and resting them  on his own. His hands traced closer and closer to your core until you could feel his thumb rub over your clit through the thin material of you shorts, making you gasp and involentarily buck your hips slightly, causing him to chuckle lowly. “Don’t get too distracted now, y/n, the more answers you get right, the more prizes you’ll get.”

You closed you eyes and bit your lip behind your hair, trying to hide your pleasure. His thumb continued to tease you as his other hand rubbed your leg comfortingly. 

“Y-you could create rou-routines to decrease anxiety.” You instinctively grasped a hold of his shoulder as he sliped his hand underneath your shorts and felt his fingers against your bare core. He naturally kissed the side of your jaw when you leaned your head to the side. 

“You’re doing great baby, only two more now.” He continued to leave wet and sloppy kisses all over your neck as he teased your entrance and clit with his long fingers.

You couldn’t focus and you have no idea why he thought you would be able to. But maybe it was the motication to finally feel his fingers stretch you and get you to your high that you were trying your oh-so hardest to recall all the information you read in the past six hours. 

“Isn’t getting at least t-twelve h-hours sleep one of th-them?” You hands flew to his hair as you felt two of his fingers stretch you and curl upwards against your walls. “Fuck Chanyeol.” Chanyeol bit your earlobe and chuckled as he began to move his fingers.

“I must admit, hearing you same my name like that really turns me on princess, but I need to hear that one last answer come out of those pretty lips of yours first.” Chanyeol didn’t waste time to go back to your neck and move his fingers at a faster pace, making you slowly start to grind them against his hand.

“Um…” Your mind had gone totally blank. It wasn’t helping that Chanyeol had now used the other hand to abuse your clit as his fingers worked their magic. “Chany-yeol I really d-don’t know.” You rested your forehead on his shoulder as the force of his hand, now increasing it’s spead, made you move back and fourth against his legs.

“That’s not good enough y/n. Do you want to cum?” His agonisingly sexy voice was still croaky, which only made things harder for you.

“Yes! Yes Chanyeol please!” You were fully aware of how pathetic you sounded, but you were exhausted, sexually frustrated and blatantly didn’t know the answer.

“Then you better give me an answer.” You felt Chanyeol add another finger, stretching your walls around his fingers more, making you moans against his shoulder. 

“Okay, okay! You c-coul… you c-could…” Your breath was becoming uncontrollable, and so was the rythm of his fingers. “ You could take an MRI scan to get a 3D perspective of the nerves in the amygdala to see if there has been any disruptions in the synapses.” You let out quite possibly the biggest breath of your life as Chanyeol hooked your legs and bent them at the knees so he could have a better angle. 

“C’mon baby, you can let go now.” His teeth nibbled your ear and his stubble slightly scraped at your neck giving you the most euphoric feeling, and within a minute your whole body was shaking and you were clenching around his fingers as they roughly pounded into you, helping you ride out your high.

You were lefting, panting and more exhausted than you were before, if that were even possible. Chanyeol was back to stroking your legs and resting his head on his hand which was leaning on the counter.

“You think you’ll remember all that now?” Chanyeol smirked as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded lazily and looke up at him. 

“Thanks for the help…” You thanked him because it was polite but it didn’t sound any less weird than you’d hoped.

Chanyeol stood up and ran a hand through his hair, smirking triumphantly. “Just wait until you pass that test.”


(This wasn’t quite as fluffy as I wanted it to be but it was sure smutty enough ;) it is just a drabble which is why I didn’t go full out fucking like rabbits smut but i hope you liked it anyway! Thanks for requesting, i had loads of fun writing this! - M)

Noticeable~ Nolan Holloway

Anon: Can you please write a Nolan imagine where he likes the reader (same grade as him) but she’s a part of the pack so she tries to stay away and her and the high school hunters have a bit of a history (bad history, almost like Hayden and Liam did), but then he gets hurt or something and she helps him and they admit their feelings for each other?

A/N: OMG I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH TO DO. I wanted to get it right and I was conflicted, and this is the result, finally.   (I’m sorry if it’s not how you wanted it but your request was vague which don’t don’t me wrong, I like it, but you might not..)  I hope you like it!

Note: Idek what grade Nolan is in because some say he’s a year younger than Liam and co. but some also say he’s the same age as them he just didn’t skip a grade. At the point that he can drive, I’m just going to say he’s at least sixteen and for the sake of my plot, that he’s the same age as Liam because in the beginning of the season when Liam, Mason and Corey went to see Monroe for Senior Registration, so did Nolan.. (Please for the love of all things Teen Wolf, don’t fight me on this!)

warnings: blood, fighting, violence, cursing because we’re all mature adults here (not really but it’s not a lot.), spoilers for Teen Wolf episodes.

word count: like 3.4k but idk

______

You and Nolan Holloway were about as compatible as dog and cat.

Yet, that never deterred his painfully noticeable infatuation with you.

Nolan was a sweet kid, don’t get you wrong, and definitely attractive (And definitely indeed- from the splattering of freckles across his defined cheekbones, his piercing yet gentle blue eyed gaze, to the light brown hair that flopped across his forehead when it wasn’t styled, he rivaled an abercrombie model.) and probably one of the most considerate and thoughtful humans to grace this earth- but that was the problem.

Nolan is human.

You are not.

And considering the raging war pitting hunters versus werewolves like yourself, any relationship with the human turned hunter would end badly.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any hc about Yuuri telling Victor about all the times he jerked off to the posters in his room? How would Viktor react?

When Yuuri comes clean about all the posters he’s got shoved under his childhood bed that Victor totally pretends he doesn’t know about, they sit on the floor and go over every single one. Victor has a story about each ‘shoot, ranging from incredible (Annie Leibovitz said that in her long line of subjects Victor was one of her absolute favorites) to insane (the photographer wanted him to jump off a 50-foot tall cliff into a lake so she could capture him spinning in midair) to utterly ridiculous (cupcake monster outfit??).

There’s one in the mix that makes Victor both laugh out loud and groan in mortification because it’s absolutely terrible: it’s Victor lounging in the empty seating area of an ice rink, dressed like something out of a terrible Henry the Eighth biopic, complete with one of those lush faux mink cloaks, a jeweled scepter, and a humongous crown. It should have been amazing (and in a lot of respects it is? His cheekbones look like they could cut diamonds) but it just looks like he’s trying too hard. His legs are spread so wide that you could probably see his circumcision scar if you squinted. 

He smiles a little bashfully and says, “I call that the Ice King Slut ‘Shoot. Could’ve been worse—you should see Chris’s,” as he reaches over to take it away from Yuuri. Except Yuuri clutches it to his chest and rears back so hard that he falls over.

Keep reading

Who Brought POT BROWNIES To The Bake Sale?!?! (Lafayette x Reader)

I’m so sorry I have no clue what being high is like, but I’ll try to portray it the best way I can in the characters :) (This gets a little steamy, I’m sorry)

You wiped the sweat off of your brow, and continued furiously mixing cupcake batter. Yes, you had to admit that having a bake sale in order to raise money for military supplies was a bit desperate and pathetic, but at this point in time you were going to take anything you could get. On your baking team was Marquis de Lafayette, a french man who swore that he could make the best treats out of anyone else in the army, and Hercules Mulligan, a large American spy who you were pretty sure was only here because he wanted to wear an apron. However, he hadn’t shown up yet. Your friends Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens were running the business side of things: making the sales and informing people about the event. 

You slowly poured the batter into small paper cups decorated with cartoon turtles, chosen by Laurens. When you were finished, you slipped the tray of cups into the oven and closed the door. That was your last batch, so you had some time to focus on other things, like mixing the blue icing for the cupcakes. 

You glanced over at Lafayette.

He looked like an expert, diligently spreading powdered sugar over his freshly made lobster-tails sitting on the counter. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and you could see beads of sweat forming on his brow from the extensive concentration. You smiled to yourself. He looked absolutely adorable, and you wondered how anyone could be so incredibly interested in pastries. 

You both knew how into each other you were.

With Hercules gone and your tasks done for now, it gave you some time alone together. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his back, resting your head on the space in between his shoulder blades. 

Mi amor, you are distracting me from my work.” His heavy french accent was incredibly sexy, you had to admit.  

“Don’t act like that’s a bad thing, Laffy.”

“I did not say it was a bad thing, darling.”

Setting down the sugar spreader, he unwrapped your arms from his waist, and turned to face you. You noticed the little splotches of sugar around his face.

“So, petite gateau, why are you not working?” He said with a smile.

“I blame you,” you smiled back.

Moi? Why would that be?”

You’re the one distracting me.” You flirted.

You noticed a particularly large smudge of sugar on his cheek.

“You’ve got a little something,” you said, leaning up toward him and kissing the spot. You could feel the warmness suddenly come over his face. 

When you had finally kissed his cheek enough so that the spot was gone, you lowered yourself and could see how much he was blushing.

You then saw a mischievous idea flicker in his eyes. Grinning, he reached to the counter and pushed his thumb into the mess of powdered sugar. Then, he used his thumb to smudge it onto your lip.

“You’ve got a little something as well, mon beau…” 

Leaning down, he tilted your head towards his and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a short, sweet kiss. You didn’t want it to end. He pulled away eventually, looking satisfied with himself. 

“I think you missed a spot…” You suggested.

“Ah, well I’d better get to work then.”

He crashed his lips into yours once more, this time grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.Your lips moved in perfect sync with his and he quickly spun around, so he could press your body up against the counter. Quickly dipping his right hand down, he grabbed a pinch of sugar and quickly threw it onto your neck. He then removed his lips from yours, and you could feel his hot breath hit your neck before he began roughly kissing it.

“Marquis…”

As he tenderly sucked on the skin you felt his hands move to the knot of your apron, skillfully undoing it, and then reaching up to untie the apron bow around your neck. Your apron slid off your body and onto the floor. He wanted you. You wanted him. Badly.

“…here?” you innocently asked.

“Oui…” he breathed, before returning to harshly kiss your neck once more. His hands then slid down to button of your pants, where he began to undo them, with his other hand placed firmly on your-

“HERCULES MULLIGAN!!!!” a booming voice shouted, as the kitchen door exploded open and you and Lafayette practically leapt away from each other. 

“Sorry I’m late guys, I got caught up in something, but I did bring these!” he exclaimed, brandishing a plate of home-made brownies. 

“I figured we could sell these while….wait… what happened here?”

You spun around, trying to re-button your pants and stop blushing while you had realized the mess you made, sugar spread all over the counter and yourself.

“Uh…uh….uh…” you stammered.

“(Y/N) had a bit of an accident, and we’re in the process of cleaning up.” Lafayette lied.

Before Hercules had time to question him, there was another sharp knock on the door. It opened to reveal Alexander Hamilton.

“Guys, could we have another batch of something? Sales are skyrocketing and we can’t keep up.” Alex explained, looking stressed and overworked.

“Sure, take these,” Mulligan offered, handing him the plate.

And with that, Alex grabbed the plate, and slammed the door shut. You could hear the large crowd of people being served outside. After that, you continued with your work as usual, with Hercules now on the team, acting like nothing had happened, even though Lafayette would nudge you every time you were working side by side.

**************************************

It had been a rough day, and the kitchen crew had just put out their last batch and were in the process of cleaning up. You were sweeping while Lafayette and Herc were cleaning off the counters and putting the cooking utensils away. Suddenly Alex stuck his head into the cooking area again. 

“Hey, not to alarm anyone, but John is acting a bit weird…”

You turned your attention to him.

“How weird?”

“You may want to come check this out.” he responded.

Following him out of the kitchen area, you saw John sitting on a chair, with this legs propped up on the table. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back, and he was grinning. You looked around and noticed many customers in the store had the same manner.

“John?” You called out.

He slowly turned his head and you noticed a glassy look in his eyes when he opened them.

“What’s happenin’ chicken butt?” he responded slowly, then began to hysterically laugh at his joke that made no sense at all.

“John…. are you… high?”

He stuck his finger into the icing of a cupcake and then stuck it in his mouth.

“This tastes like blue.”

You spun around and stormed back into the kitchen area.

“WHAT HAS JOHN EATEN SINCE HE GOT HERE?!”

The boys all jumped at your sudden anger.

“Just…. a brownie.”

You walked back outside and snatched a brownie off of the display plate. breaking it open, you saw just what you expected, little green flakes baked into the brownies.

“WHO BROUGHT POT BROWNIES TO THE BAKE SALE!?!” You called out, slamming the brownie back onto the display plate.

You heard deep, hysterical laughter coming from the kitchen. Rushing in, you found Hercules practically rolling on the floor, his eyes flooding with tears.

“HERC SO HELP ME GOD,” you yelled as you grabbed a rolling pin, whacking him with it.

“DID YOU EVEN THINK OF THE TROUBLE WE COULD GET INTO????? WHAT IF SIR WASHINGTON FINDS OUT!!!” 

“I don’t think we have to be worried about that…” Alex started. 

You looked at him, confused.

He gestured to one of the customers sitting in the eating area, who had his body stretched out, and was looking up to the sky. Sure enough, it was Washington.

“I never really realized how great the world is…” Washington dreamed to himself.

You set the rolling pin down, and stared at Washington while Hercules continued laughing his lungs out. You buried your head into your hands.

“We’re toast. We’re beyond toast.”

You looked up to find your co-workers continuing their cleaning job, while Alex tried to get John to leave his seat.

“How on earth are we going to explain this…” you sighed.

Lafayette grabbed a plate of goodies off the counter and sauntered over to you.

Mi amour, you sound like you need to blow off some stress.”

“You’ve got that right.”

He extended the plate to you.

“Brownie?”