i had to write it backwards

this fic is taking eight decades to write but here’s a section i had to cut for pacing (she says, as though the pacing weren’t still glacial. but i couldn’t find a space for this.)


“So, Ruben, you’re gonna be a teacher?” Vanessa asks him.

“Yep. Well, sort of. Community college.”

“Awww, I can already picture you with a nerdy little tie and a briefcase. Adorable,” Vanessa says. “Or are you gonna be a hip teacher? Sitting backwards on your chair, trying to connect with all the wayward inner-city youth?“

“They’re college students, so-“

Hey kids, I know science sounds whack, but I’m here to tell you that Chemistry is Cool!” calls Usnavi from behind a shelf in a falsetto-high voice.

“Again, college students. Was that supposed to be me?” asks Ruben. “What do I sound like in your world?”

“You sound like the kind of teacher who says hope you kids like rap music, because I’ve got some Sick Beats that’ll teach you all about the periodic table ’ says Usnavi. “And who’s maybe been huffing helium before class, I guess. Ha, see, it’s not just you teachers who know chemistry, Mr Marcado.”

“Knowing what helium is isn’t chemistry, Usnavi, any five year old who’s been to a semi-decent birthday party has that one down. And that’s Dr Marcado to you, if we’re going there.”

Vanessa blinks. “Wait, legit you’re a doctor?”

“Yeah. Did Usnavi never mention that?”

“Nope,” she says. “Can you give me healthcare on the cheap?”

“Wrong doctor. I was a chemist.”


“Story for another day, maybe,” Ruben says gently.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Can you poison people and make it look like they died naturally? Asking for a friend.”

Probably. If that one patient whose death they’d faked hadn’t made it, it’s unlikely anyone would’ve figured out what really happened.

…he definitely shouldn’t tell her that.

“Depends. How rich is your friend?” he says instead, and Vanessa laughs.


Based off THIS tweet I saw the other day and just kinda had the need to re-draw it lolol!! He straight up walked backwards off a cliff LOLOL

UPDATE::: I forget to post the first panel with the writing :-:

Tips on Writing Characters Without Faces

so yeah, we all know that facial expressions can tell us a lot about how a character is feeling, but what if that isn’t an option? how can you make someone emote if they don’t really have standard facial features? the answer; body language.

let’s consider how emotions are conveyed on a stage production vs movie with Sweeney Todd. First, the stage play:

Note how Todd’s entire upper body goes into his gestures, how he’s single-mindedly focused on his dreams and ideals; how his hands GRAB for each imaginary ‘man’ with these sharp, aggressive, destructive movements and how that contrasts with Mrs. Lovett’s body language; how her hands linger in the air and gravitate towards Todd even after he’s pulled away, and the slow turn she gives him. It does an excellent, though exaggerated, way of conveying their relationship (her focus is on him and making him happy, his focus is entirely on revenge)

Contrast this to the movie:

Originally posted by curiousitykilledthekat

Same lines in the song, much more subtle. Lovett’s eyes still track towards Todds, which reminds us she’s still more focused on the outside, but all of the emotion is in their faces. Were this not a close-up shot in a movie it’d be very, very hard to read their expressions.

While I do recommend you watch a few stage plays (in person near the back row if you can) to actually study body language for yourself or try out charades with your face covered with friends/watch how cosplayers or mascots emote, here’s a few shorthands to get you started (US-centric so expressions may vary on your region):


  • perfectly still - fear, intense attention, feeling under scrutiny
  • tilted up - recollection, intimidation (looking down nose at threat, aiming to appear taller)
  • tilted down - intense thought, shame (avoiding eye contact), depression/sad feelings
  • turned away - not giving person full attention, avoiding subject/conflict without being combative
  • cocker-spaniel (sideways) tilt - confusion, curiosity, amusement


  • at the forehead - fatigue (wiping away sweat), illness (checking self for fever, feeling a headache), realization/memory (a ‘well duh’ tap)
  • at the eyes - fatigue or headache (shielding eyes from light), distress (blocking out a painful view, concealing tears)
  • at the nose - disgust (a pinch at the nostrils,) irritation (rubbing at sore spot on nose from glasses wear)
  • at the mouth - nausea, surprise, repressing an emotion/stopping self from saying something
  • at the chin - contemplation, tiredness (face resting in hand)
  • rubbing back of neck - a need to relax tension, embarrassment, slight unease/desire to distract self
  • at the chest - surprise, self-protection (reaction to a wounding statement, sometimes used sarcastically), strong emotions (clutching at heart, could be good-strong or bad-strong), need for security (touching necklace/adjusting clothing to conceal more)
  • at the stomach - pain (clutching, pressing), satisfaction after a meal, protectiveness towards fetus when applicable
  • at the hip(s) - confidence, intimidation, nervousness (if grabbing for weapon)
  • at groin - concealment/unease (usually male-coded as protection of genitals), politeness (hands folded in lap)
  • on thighs - exhaustion (bent over, hands on legs supporting tired upper body)
  • formed into fists - holding back an intense emotion, preparing to fight
  • toying with something - restlessness (bored, nervous energy, craving something they can’t touch) or deliberate disrespect of property (playing with personal objects someone holds dear as an intimidation tactic)


  • at sides, relaxed - default posture
  • at sides, tense - unease, restraint (soldier at attention, person holding still to avoid being attacked), fear
  • crossed at chest - disapproval, displaying authority, unease (hugging oneself)
  • crossed at stomach - pain, intense laughter (caused by sore stomach muscles from laughing)
  • up, fingers laced behind head - confidence, relaxation
  • one arm on back of furniture - confidence, invitation for someone join them
  • general rule - the further arms are away from body, the more confident/dominant a person means to appear; exposed torso indicates that they don’t see anyone around as a threat to them


  • square with shoulders - professional, restraint, protective stance
  • wide stance, one foot a little back but planted - defensive stance, expecting to receive blows (knees may be unlocked - seen in swordplay and fencing)
  • weight on one leg - relaxed, tired, may also be leaning on something or pair with one ankle tucked behind the other
  • uneven stance - could indicate old injury
  • foot tapping/bouncing - boredom, nervous energy

Whole Body:

  • stiff and still - fear, unease, standing to attention
  • limp or pliant - relaxed, tired, pleased
  • shoulders back/head up - alert, focused, aggressive
  • shoulders forward, hunched - tired, ashamed
  • leaning towards person - interest, intimidation (looming over them), aggression (usually paired with tense arms or hands in fists,)
  • leaning away from person - relaxation, confidence, disgust (recoiling)
  • smooth/fluid movements - joy, confidence, experience
  • stiff motions - fear (reactive, fight or flight), pain (reluctance to move), anger (either fighting to keep control of emotions or lashing out), cold (conservation of heat by keeping limbs near body)
  • cracking joints/stretching - preparing for a fight, often reading as confidence in abilities
  • general rule - close contact/proximity can read as intimidation (paired with tense body - an invasion of personal space) or affection (paired with relaxaed body language, gentle movement) or passion/attraction while distance can read unease/distaste/fear/dislike.

with those in mind, let’s read this scene from Red vs Blue (a personal fav of mine for body language) featuring agent texas from season 8.

Originally posted by cryingmanlytears

So first of all, very relaxed upper body; limp arms held away from the body, which slowly come back to rest on her hips as she looks at what she’s done. Watch how her lean shifts at the end as her center of gravity shifts, and how she has to move her right leg to restabilize herself when she’s finished pushing it. This reads, in order from the start of the loop; detachment (the least amount of her body is involved in the action as possible), relaxation (smooth movements, the deliberation of those little steps backwards) and confidence (hands on hips.) We can tell a ton about this character just in this gif alone, based on her body language.

in summary! this list isn’t exhaustive, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for ways of making characters emote in fics when you can’t see their faces.

anonymous asked:

For the suggestion thingy could you do Lancelot but like actually klance with like creep lotor hitting on lance, lance being weirded out and Keith being jealous and protective? Sorry if that made no sense. Anyways, the dialogue prompt could be something like "Look, just leave me alone, alright!"

I hope this was what you wanted! Also, hopes and dreams for S3 tbh

           “Look, just leave me alone, alright?” Lance backpedaled until he was pressed up against the stone wall. “I’m flattered, really, but you’re… you’re, uh, not exactly my type.” Lotor and his bouquet of blindingly blue flowers seemed to droop in unison.

           “The Galra have caused you much pain, I understand.” He bounced back with a toothy grin so fast Lance actually yelped from surprise. “But I can be different. Young Paladin, believe me, your team does not appreciate your talents, your dedication, your­–” Lotor leaned in close enough to smell him– “beauty.” Lance felt himself go red as he tried to subtly inch sideways along the wall.

           “Yeah see it’s not so much the Galra part that bothers me,” he said, a certain boy with a frustratingly attractive mullet flashing unbidden into his head, “as it is the ‘I murder people with a fiery sword’ bit.” Lotor’s hand slammed into the wall beside his head, preventing Lance from moving further sideways.

           “All is fair in love and war, isn’t it?” he asked, and had the audacity to lick his lips with his face bare inches away from Lance. He caught Lance’s hand and pressed the bouquet into it. “I would think you would be impressed with a bit of swordplay.” Lance thought his face might spontaneously combust.

           “You sure know how to use your pickup lines, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Do you… do this with a lot of people?” Lotor’s jaw dropped comically, pressing his now bouquet-free hand against his heart.

           “I have learned the art of seduction, of course, but you, dear Lance, you are no ordinary partner. All the others, they were nothing more than practice so that when I found you—” He plucked a stray flower from the bouquet and tucked it behind Lance’s ear– “I would be prepared to offer you my best performance.”

           “I, uh, um, can I—?” Lotor smiled, far, far too close to Lance’s face for comfort, and he could swear Lotor’s eyes kept flickering to his lips.


           “I’m just gonna… Um…” He was interrupted by the door getting kicked in, revealing a furious Keith behind it.

           “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Keith shouted, charging at Lotor. He sidestepped easily, lifting Lance out of the way as well so that he wouldn’t get skewered when Keith missed his target. Lance took the opportunity to scramble away as Lotor dodged another swipe from Keith, who growled in frustration, circling the Galra prince. As soon as Lotor was closest to the door, he threw a last grin at Lance.

           “You know how to find me!” he called. He winked, then sprinted for the door and slammed it in Keith’s face as he tried to follow. They heard a heavy bar fall in place across it and Keith growled in frustration when it wouldn’t open, before turning back to look at Lance. His eyes raked over him with a frown.

           “Why are you holding flowers?” he asked. Lance, glancing down, realized he still had the bouquet and dropped it promptly, going red again.

           “That… That dude is weird. He kind of tried to, um. He was trying to seduce me.” Keith stomped over and for a second Lance thought he was going to hit him, but instead he just plucked the flower out from behind his ear and crushed it in his hand.

           “Flirting is not going to win over the Galra, Lance,” he said.

           “Hey!” he protested. “He started it!”


           “He did!”

           “And now you sound like a kindergartener. Are you going to help me get this door open or not?” Lance grumbled, trudging over to where his bayard had landed after Lotor disarmed him. He hefted it up and told Keith to move aside, aiming for the hinges on the door. Keith watched him.

           “He didn’t actually hurt you, right?” Keith finally asked quietly. Lance paused, one hinge blasted to pieces.

           “The emotional damage was far worse,” he said, rolling his eyes and taking aim at the next hinge. “Why the quiznak would a Galra flirt with me?” The second hinge fell to the floor, leaving the door free to swing backwards into the room.

           “I can think of a few reasons,” Keith muttered very quietly, and before Lance could react, he had ducked under the bar and took off running through the castle. Lance gaped after him. He blinked once, twice, and then ducked under the bar so quickly he banged his head, and chased after him.


Send me a prompt!

i’m sorry for all the poems i wrote whilst you were gone
all the shouting i did about somebody else’s mouth
i had some growing up left to do under the aborted tenderness of another.
somehow, i went backwards.

i’ve never been able to write about you, save for that one poem, about how you left whilst never really being there to begin with. i’m still struggling now.
i flesh you out, broad shoulders, narrow hips, those strong, strong legs. your weak heart.
every time i put pen to paper i realise
i do not know you.

the things you laugh at, then. the things you enjoy. what we eat together. our shared favourite drink. the way you only laugh that way for me. the unparalleled tenderness when so many others are watching. that brick wall i clamber over night after night, when we are alone.
what are you so afraid of, darling?
the little bird with a heart of solid gold?

the girl in the cape, the girl with the basket, the girl who is coming to blow your house down.
the girl across the ocean, the girl on the pavement, the girl wrapped in sheets – it takes you so long and no time at all to extricate yourself, to shed your skin. i wonder what she does with it once you’re gone. does she fashion herself a home from your discarded sense of self?
the girl with her own home, the girl with her own skin, the girl made of steel, she leaves you on the floor.

your fears and mine do not float in the same water. your fears and mine do not sink us together. your fears, the rock falling into the ocean, my fears, the ocean swallowing it whole. where does it land where does it land? our fear, then, the impression upon the sand as the rock slowly settles, our fear now, that slow, slow erosion, our fear forever, indistinguishable as it washes ashore into waiting hands.

i am not the ocean. the girl with the salt inside of her. i am not the ocean. the girl swallowing you whole. i am not the ocean. the girl coughing you up onto the sand. i am not the ocean.
you sink into me, regardless.

—  Messages In Bottles. Charlotte Ford
And I could tell you that lately my skin has been the loneliest place on earth, that even though I can still play the chord of us perfectly, every word is still a shell of the laughter we lost. every smile is an outline of colors our hands could never reach, a subtle heading that caution can hold stares as hardened as these windows we could never keep clean. You never promised to make me feel better, but you always made me feel. Truth is, I was a little less lost every time you held my hand. I was a little less lost every time my ear found your voice. I was a little less lost when the tears in your eyes matched the holes we smoked through summers. I was a little less lost knowing the only darkness I could never escape were the I love you’s we said with our eyes closed. And now I’m writing your name on napkins, just so I’m not eating alone. And I could tell you that winter isn’t the coldest season if only you would listen, I apologize an extra time for the moments when you cried and I told you to stop, I should have held you more, I should have held you in my arms just for a little longer if I knew that that would be the last time we would ever be, life comes at you hard, so it gave birth to love and the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, it broke every branch that looked like a vein and injected enough morphine to silence a whole city filled with poets and romantics, we live in a technology infested world, when the robots come they’ll get rid of love and we’ll wonder why, love stems from something as old as finding a mate, we just gave something primitive a few poems and a spine, we gave it a new name just to call it ours, you are mine and I am yours, but only if always and forever could last, maybe the world wouldn’t be in so much debt with Cupid, breathing means that I’m trying and it’s not always about love, but if it’s not about love, then is it really about anything? Anything of importance, baby, we love it. Anything of value, baby, we love it. Anything of anything, baby, we love it. So when I miss you while I’m driving around and the city is quiet enough for my memories to come back to life– love doesn’t really die, it’s just a sleeper cell waiting for the call, and our brains likes to fuck us up when we least expect it. i can count on all ten of my fingers about when you took my breath away. 1: your smile. that statement alone requires no introduction. divine falls short when it comes to you. 2: your words. you made my left brain understand poetry, you spoon-fed my right brain the logical means to end irrationality even if it meant that we had to split in order for me to grow into a person capable of loving myself. loving you was the best possible way I could’ve ended things between us, hating myself was the worst possible way I could’ve seen us together, so of course it still hurts when I think about 3: your body. they say sexual exploration is important, I learned how to kiss where it counts, I learned how to feel skin as if I was pen writing the same word for spelling homework over and over again, I learned how to write your name backwards on your back with my fingers, and I’m still learning how to forget that my skin is important too, when I dropped those razors and asked if 4 could forgive me. 4: your younger self. I realized a few things about us, when you’re this young, you’re going to hurt someone and then you’re going to feel the pain. you’re going to be alone and numb, but that’s the thing about being young, I get to be dumb once, the rest of the time I need to step up and love somebody right. 5: your lies. I learned that just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean that they’ll always be honest with you. you can’t expect everyone to be like you. you can’t expect that person to love you back in the same force that pulls the moon closer to earth just to feel less dead. 6: your eyes. they always gave you away. 7: your mouth. they were next to do the same. 8: your heart. it’s still as pale as mine. 9: your soul. meant to touch, but not to stay. 10: your version of loving someone. it means distance. and when I think about the number one reason as to why I finally let go of all the things that I’ve got left of you, I always come up with one. me. I’m doing this for me. when you left, you said that I’ll go on many adventures without you. it’s a good way to start things over with myself for myself.
—  The Ate & The Bunso

J-Hope x Reader

Genre: Do I write anything that isn’t smut? The answer is no.

Summary: Look up from your books once in a while. A good dick down might be on the other side.

Word count: 4,267

A/N: I’m appalled at the lack of Hoseok smut so I thought I’d polish this piece I had about him and post that. Enjoy! Feel free to request stuff as well.

You glanced at the silver and pink watch on your wrist as you typed continuously onto your laptop. You sighed deeply as you pressed enter to switch line. This essay was taking so long to write and you could feel all your focus slip away, tiredness taking over in heavy presses on your eyelids. You met eyes with your charming boyfriend on the other side of the table. He smiled at you sweetly before looking back down at his papers. Unlike you, he was enjoying himself, writing lyrics and listening to some music on his laptop, calmly sipping a warm cup of tea. You glanced to your left and reached for your nth cup of coffee promptly sitting atop a messy pile of books. You tilted it. Empty. A sigh made its way between your dry lips and soon enough your cold hands found their way back onto your keyboard, resting lifeless on the keys.

You were so focused on getting this paper done that you didn’t notice Hoseok getting up to make you another warm drink. His presence lurked tall behind your back as his left arm entered your peripherals, putting a black mug down on the table, making sure to push away all your scattered papers. He grabbed your other mug under your soft stare. You lazily reached for the new drink and brought it up to your mouth.

“Thank you Hobi.” you murmured.

He put the other mug in the sink before standing behind you again, his gentle hands on your shoulders, massaging the sore muscles. You took a long awaited sip. Hm… Chocolate?

“Hobiii… that’s hot chocolate.” you whined cutely.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Headcanon for Rfa (+ trio, if you like) upon discovering MC is gifted at massage? This can be as tame or nsfw as you please 😄 hope I did this right...😶

So I’m actually a massage therapist IRL, and this is great, it’s just….. I just wanted to say, I’m happy that this is a request, it’s nice, but this will NEVER be NSFW because the sexualization of my profession is a very real problem, and… I would like to request you all to avoid sexualizing it in the future.

Well, with that serious note out of way, let’s get to this!


  • He was super stressed out over a term paper he had to finish
  • Yoosung had been hunched over a desk all weekend, writing, working, and stressing
  • So MC came up behind him and began rubbing his shoulders when he had his head in his hands
  • The simple action made Yoosung immediately relax and slump backwards into his chair, allow MC a better angle
  • They talked a little as she rubbed his shoulders
  • When she stopped, Yoosung was sleepy and distracted, but it was also late and he had school the next day, so MC dragged him off to bed
  • He started asking for shoulder rubs from time to time after that
  • After a while, MC teaches him how to return the favor so that he can take care of her too


  • Jaehee invited MC over after a long day at the cafe, and they started watching a Zen movie over some popcorn and tea
  • Then MC noticed the way Jaehee was sitting, with her feet elevated and a cold compress on them
  • When she offered to massage Jaehee’s feet, Jaehee wasn’t expecting much, but the moment MC started digging in, she nearly passed out
  • In fact, within minutes, she completely fell asleep with MC massaging her feet
  • When Jaehee woke up, her feet felt like they were new, like she could put weight on them without pain
  • She was so impressed, Jaehee asked MC to teach her
  • Afterwards, MC and Jaehee made it a point to meet up once a week, watch something together, and rub each other’s feet while on the couch
  • MC even buys and brings some peppermint lotion to help with the massage


  • Zen was freaking out
  • He’d had a crick in his back for a few days and it wasn’t going away, so he was super concerned
  • When Zen described the pain and the location, MC knew exactly what was hurting him
  • So she had Zen lay face down on the bed, topless for easy access to his back, then she stood next to him and got to work
  • MC moved her hands in ways he never would have thought of, following invisible lines with the tips of her fingers, digging in harder than he thought she would or could in some places
  • When MC moved away, he’d zoned out, and slowly came back to reality at the sound of her voice
  • When she asked him how he was feeling, he dreamily said, “good” not even thinking about the pain he’d been in
  • About 15 minutes later, however, Zen got his clarity of mind back and realized, “my pain is gone!”
  • He gushed to MC about what a good job she does, and while she blushes, she says, “well I should hope so after all that training I went through.”


  • Jumin came home cranky because he’d had a horrible headache all day and it just wasn’t going away
  • When MC heard what was wrong, she took off his tie, loosened his shirt, and told him to lay down with his head at the foot of the bed
  • Jumin wasn’t sure what she was planning, especially not when she turned off the lights, but when she sat down on a little stool and started rubbing his neck, his eyes dropped shut
  • With a few minutes, Jumin had drifted off into a half sleep where he could feel her hands moving his head and massaging his neck, shoulders, and scalp
  • When she told him she was done, he opened his eyes, looking directly up into hers, and realized the pain was gone
  • He kissed her in gratitude
  • MC explained she’d learned how to give massages before she’d met him, and if he ever needed another, all he had to do was ask


  • It had been a long day for Saeyoung as he’d spent 90% of it hacking and chasing off hackers that wanted to catch him
  • So when he comes out of his cave at long last and finds MC rubbing Saeran’s shoulders (Saeran had started having a panic attack and MC did it try to calm him down), Saeyoung wants a shoulder rub too!
  • Of course, he waits his turn, and once Saeran gets up to go get some ice cream (today, he goes with mint chocolate chip), Saeyoung sits up a little straighter in anticipation
  • MC has him straddle a chair and the moment she starts working on him, he relaxes, and five minutes later, he’s completely asleep as she works down his back
  • She has to jostling him awake, and once he’s conscious (though a little bleary eyed), he says, “You really are too good for me.”
  • Of course, from then on, as an excuse to make physical contact, he begins exchanging massages with her
  • MC teaches both him and Saeran how to properly give a massage, even pulling out her massage table and chair, which she rarely uses, to teach them the body mechanics of it
  • In a couple of months, Saeyoung’s more relaxed than he can ever remember being, as he’s practically receiving a massage every day

anonymous asked:

anon here some elorcan prompt please? thanksss xx

I feel like writing some domestic fluff for elorcan, so here’s a short bit!

Lorcan shuffled over onto his stomach, the soft sheets of the bed rubbed against his bare chest softly. Reaching out, he felt for Elide only to find empty space beside him. 

Pushing himself up, he ran his hand through his long hair and opened his eyes. Elide wasn’t there, the sheets rumpled and her side of the blanket pushed away.

Groaning, Lorcan fell backward against the pillow and let his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight shining through the window of their Perranth castle. He had expected Elide to be there so he could bury his face in her hair once more and fall back asleep. 

“Where is she.” Lorcan muttered, finally sitting up and running his hand through his hair again. Pushing himself off the bed, he made his way towards the door and down the staircase. It didn’t matter if he only had his sleeping pants on, their wing of the Perranth castle only had them anyways - the servants were on the other side. 

“Elide!” Stumbling a little on the stairs, he straightened himself and headed towards the living room first. 

“Elide?” Lorcan said softer than before, glancing around the living room. Just as he was about to leave, he heard the door leading out to the castle open and soft steps resonated against the marble floor. 

“Lorcan? What are you doing?”

Lorcan turned towards the soft voice, a smile automatically appearing on his face when he saw Elide leaning against the doorway with a bouquet of flowers. He knew she picked them from the garden outside.

“Why are you up so early?” Lorcan muttered, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her ebony hair.

“I was looking for you. I missed you.”

Elide snorted, shaking her head although a smile was on her face. 

“I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I went to pick flowers,” Elide paused, “Lorcan you see me everyday, how could you miss me?”

“I’ll always miss you, sweetheart.” Lorcan suddenly let out his powers to brace her ankle. Elide snorted once more. 

“You’re so corny.” Elide pulled away with a smile, walking over to one of the high tables in the living room and setting the flowers into the case. 

“For you? Always.” Elide could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Turning around, she walked over to him once more - leaning up on her toes to kiss his lips softly. Lorcan cupped her face gently, pulling her closer as their lips moved together. Pulling away when they were only out of breathe, Elide tucked herself against his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist again. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against Lorcan’s chest. 

“Want to go make breakfast?” Lorcan asked softly, brushing Elide’s hair with his finger. He made sure to massage her scalp every now and then the way she liked it.


Lorcan picked her up in one go, carrying her in his arms.

“Let’s go then.”

In a universe where we age backwards.
We are born at the bottom of graveyards.
Dust becomes bone
Bone become flesh.
As we enter the surface there is light.
Later we will learn that they call it the sun.
For now;
we are wrinkled skin and slow smiles.

We are assigned to younger adults who become our caretakers. Mother. Father. They teach our tongues the words of their people. We get better at remembering.
But no one recalls the life before this one.

We learn to walk without the cane; without the limp.

At school; the best teachers are children. They tell us of all the years they have lived.
Between classes we talk about what we want to be when we grow down.

At graduation, the grey fades and we find out our true hair colour for the first time; women begin to bleed; their breasts rise; our bodies become firmer; the wrinkles smoothen like pressed flowers.
We dance for the first time. And don’t feel tired.

My caretakers are teenagers now. They’re loud and hard to understand. The scientists say it’s something with their hormones. I find that my mother skips work and listens to sad songs; she spends more time looking in the mirror now. My father cries when no ones looking;
it’s hard for a man to become a boy.

When we go to find jobs the younger ones interview us. When we turn 13 we will have to retire.

I save money to put my caretakers into a children’s home when they get younger. Just like they did for their grandparents.

I was assigned my first elderly person. He’s 95 and confined to a wheelchair. He doesn’t have any hair yet but I know it’ll grow soon. Sometimes he grabs my wrist to look at the way our skin doesn’t match. When he gets younger I’ll tell him about race; he’s too old to understand such things. I name him Luke.

I fall in love with a younger man; a writer named Hercules. He says funny things like “Imagine a universe where we age backwards; where we start off babies and die when we grow old.”
I try; but it seems impossible; too farfetched.
At our wedding; Luke is the ring bearer.
(He walks down the aisle without his wheelchair and I can’t help but cry).

Hercules kisses my forehead every time we meet. Says he wants to savour the days when he stands taller than me.

My caretakers are babies now. And Hercules is a teenager. There’s something different about him; he says I’ll understand in a few years.

They say that my mother wouldn’t sleep the night my father passed on; that she wouldn’t stop crying for what seemed like no reason but I think that somehow she knew. He’d been asleep in his crib at the time; the passing often happens this way.

Hercules holds me tighter that night. He’s started having nightmares. I guess it’s harder for a writer. To know that one day he’ll forget how to say how he feels; how to read.
I wonder how babies manage it. To have all these thoughts and no way to express them.

I’m eighteen today and it’s full moon. Hercules takes me to the beach and insists we bathe entirely naked. Between the waves he tells the whole sky of stars that we’re rebels now; that becoming a teenager makes us free in ways I don’t yet understand. I think that he just wants to taste everything before he dies.
After sharing a bottle of wine on the sand with him and dancing to the sound of the ocean’s monologue…
I believe him.

Our love has changed. From candle to fireplace to forest fire. I want to touch him all the time. He likes writing poems on my skin; but says that even without them I’m the best book he’s ever read.

My breasts are shrinking. And my bleeding had stopped. Though no one really understands why it happens. Hercules says maybe it served a purpose in the life before. His voice is high pitched now; more like mine; a sign of maturity.

Being teenagers was hard but nothing prepared me for childhood. They say it is a lot like old age.
Luke put us in the nicest children’s home he could find. It’s full of interesting people who’ve retired like us. But the babysitters are always watching. We play games during the day but they force us to go to bed even if we don’t want to. Hercules and I have to sleep in separate rooms now.

Yesterday they caught Hercules trying to paint his hair grey again. He believes he can fight it somehow. He hates that he can’t stay focused long enough to finish books but he still brings me love letters; crooked hearts coloured with crayons. I stick them on the fridge and stoop so that he can kiss my forehead.

When the babysitter told me that Hercules had passed on… I learnt what it felt like to be crushed. Some days I’d feel the ghost of his lips against my forehead and feel so angry. I’d cry and scream and curse. They called it a tantrum.

I’m five years old now and I’m beginning to understand that the end looks so much like the beginning and that’s why they call it the circle of life.

—  In a universe where we age backwards // Ceres @mentamorphisis
Dear Juliet Simms

You really are a piece of work aren’t you? It’s only been a few months since the plane incident and you’re now saying it never happened? Don’t assume that just because you were not charged legally with assault that we’re all gullible idiots. There is video proof of what you did. Witnesses. Regardless of what you say, or how you try to twist it, you did hit Andy, and you were escorted off that plane in handcuffs. 

The fandom is not constantly bringing up the plane incident because we hate you, though some of us do legitimately hate you at this point. We bring it up because what you did classifies as domestic abuse and you’re not holding yourself accountable. A lot of Andy’s fans are worried sick for his safety now because of you, and you trying to erase the incident from existence instead of owning up to your crappy 'mistakes’ makes us all very anxious.

Tell me why we should forget when you’re proving yourself continuously to be untrustworthy? You’re showing the characteristics of a domestic abuser who got exposed and is now trying to cover her tracks. All you’ve done whenever someone brings up the incident is make excuses for yourself. You’ve blamed your elevated blood alcohol level for you punching Andy, and you’ve said that Marie Carey is an unreliable source, even though she has no reason to lie about what happened.

You have a reason to lie, though. So excuse me for not taking you at face value. I find it hard to believe feeble sob stories from a woman who assaults her husband on a plane in public and than lies about it.

You’re not the victim in all of this, Juliet. Andy is. Andy had a loved one punch him in the face - a couple of times apparently - during what was stated to be a very distressing time for both of you. You selfishly blamed him for the situation he’d found himself in, and than proceeded to call domestic abuse on him for allegedly breaking your ribs, remember? If you can’t, you can watch the video on TMZ.

By the way, I know Andy wrote that post on Instagram writing off your behaviour. I’m just going to point this out to you: if Andy had gotten drunk on that plane and smacked you around, the internet would still be bending over backwards in sympathy for you. Andy’s career would have been over faster than the story broke, and if you tried to make the same excuses for him that he has for you, you’d have been seen as a battered woman.

And another thing, you saying you couldn’t possibly have hurt Andy because he’s over six foot and well built… Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? First of all, Andy is tall, yes, but he’s built like a twig. A fucking stiff breeze would do that man in.

Secondly, your claim devalues men who have survived domestic abuse situations. Women are biologically smaller than men but that doesn’t mean they can’t cause serious damage when they want to. Abuse is not just physical, and a small woman can cause physical harm to a larger man. They use weapons (or pick fights in places where the man can’t respond). It seems to me like you’re making excuses again.

Finally, Andy appearing to react in any kind of physical manner would’ve appeared to be an act of domestic abuse on his part. Neither of you are stupid so I know you both knew there wasn’t anything he could have done, other than sit there and try to wait it out, that wouldn’t have made his situation worse.

You’re responsible for your own actions. Everything you’ve done that’s gotten us to this point is your own damn fault.

Clean up your act, Juliet. You’re a disgrace.


Submission: I hope Juliet reads this, because that’s some strong tea. 

Imagine getting caught by Sam when you’re reading the Supernatural books.

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Imagine getting caught by Sam when you’re reading the Supernatural books
Couple: Sam x Reader

Sam took the blade from Ruby’s waist belt and brought it to her wrist as she smirked. “That’s it Sam.” She murmured into the quiet room.

You bit your bottom lip as you read that line. It was intense. Slightly.

Your boyfriend was a real piece of work back then. Even though, he still is. To some extent. You were worried but damn!

“Darlin?” You heard Sam call out as he neared the door.


You immediately stood up after hiding the book underneath the bed. “Yeah Babe?”

“Lunch’s ready. Why are you just standing in the middle room like that?” Sam raised his eyebrows at you.

“I was um you know um waiting for you. Since I heard you.” You stuttered a bit.

“Okay…” Sam Winchester nodded awkwardly. Unsure of his girlfriend’s behavior.

You gave him a sheepish smile. It was obvious that both of the Winchesters hated the Supernatural book series.

And you somewhat enjoyed them. It was interesting to read what your boyfriend and his older brother had done. They were heroes.

Sam nodded awkwardly as he turned around and walked off.

You let out a breath of relief. It would’ve been awkward and embarrassing to be caught reading that piece of work. Writing was obviously not Chuck’s strongest suit.

Plopping back down on the bed, you fell back on the covers when Sam entered again and you sat up. Again.

“You want Diet Coke or Sprite?”


“Oh okay.”


Sam Winchester smirked as his eyes trailed around the room. Bingo…He mentally called out when he noticed the familiar edge of one of the Supernatural books. He had returned to the room to make sure if it was the book that he saw.


“Yeah Sam?”

“I can still see the book.”  Sam called out as he walked away backward, smirking at his flustered girlfriend.


The end.

AN: Hey y’all!!! I would like to thank all of you who have read my work and enjoyed it. 

So thank you to my readers (and 151 followers) for supporting me in my writing. 

Love Stephanie. 

so what is she supposed to be? he asks, his gaze stalling on mine as he lights a cigarette in the bathroom stall of the city’s cheapest bar, his eyes like satellite discs, roaming the epicenter of a stretch of tidal wave girls, & me just happening to be a thorn in the midst of their saltwater hemmed limbs, their sugarplum lips, their laughs like molten gold.

she looks out of place, he adds. because it’s true. because i’m out of place wherever i go. i shrink into my coat. i pretend that i don’t see him, i gaze out at the crowd. a congregation of delirious devil-worshippers, boys & girls trading their merry-go-round brains for baits of ice, crystal, leaves. whatever’s taking souls on a sunday night. whatever kills the quickest. behind the chiseled bar, rows of wine glasses gleam like a selection of murder weapons. 

from somewhere, summoned like ghosts, an aggregate of disembodied voices reply: a woman, a god, an anthem of spokes. fine grains of desert sand. an endless alleyway. rain, rain, bloodshot sky. burnt roses littering funeral grounds.

the voices continue, even as his green eyes wander. lightning within the root. someone falling from the bannisters. poison ivy, seeping into a rotting mouth. trigger-happy hands, always going for the sharpest object within reach. bombs trickling off like- he loses interest.

i smile like, no worries, this isn’t embarrassing at all. i’ll create a story where you care. i’m a magician, didn’t you know? i can make things appear from out of my head! a story where you buy me flowers and we mouth off at the sunset. where you cook me eggs runnier than my thoughts, i wear something pink and we devour this town together.  

my mother used to say, loneliness is a bug, once you catch it, you can’t quite get rid of it. not without the hospital visits. not without the vaccinations. not without the nurses with sinister bobcat eyes stealing the blood from your body and storing it in little glass vials. not without losing bits of yourself. bits you never get to have back. bits you have to fight for to keep. 

as your sanity, that ever-slippery ice cap, floats farther & farther away from your burned, bludgeoned, berserk island of a body. 

ii. -

i miss gripping for power lines in my rain boots. finding solace in the neck of a stranger. three-hour long showers and gardening myself (here, chrysanthemums tucked into the ribs, and there, a daffodil beneath the knee) i miss what it’s all supposed to mean, back when everything still had a point & the world was somehow a kinder place, being human on a steady diet of dreams, creating a breach in a star-system, losing faith & pilfering it back from chapels. tumbling, always backwards, into the closest abyss. 


Wicked Games

Title: Wicked Games
Mark Fischbach/Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Fighting, oral, rough sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex
A/N: I’ve always wondered what makeup sex would be like with Mark so I wrote y’all a little something. I went DEEP into this one so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Also, I hit 100 followers! I know that’s a small thing but it means a lot to me being that only a week ago, I had 13 followers. 

Originally posted by lum1natrix

“Fuck you!” You yelled, causing an echo to ring through the hall. 

Mark stood there shocked. Your eyes were dark with anger. Your cheeks glistening from the shedding of tears a few moments ago. He took a step towards you causing you to jolt backwards against the wall. 

“Y/N…you don’t mean that.” A slight crack in his voice as he went to reach for your hand.

You smacked it away not wanting him to touch you while you still comprehended the words that had just escaped your mouth. You and Mark have never had an argument this huge before. Your stomach twisted in knots as you began to think there was no going back from this. He hadn’t hit you. He never cheated. Nor did you ever do those to him. It was petty fight about him not spending enough time away from the stupid computer screen but somehow every bottle of anger and sadness had exploded inside you, causing those words to ring through his ears. 

Without thinking you turned and walked into the bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind you and locking it. Mark went up to it and knocked but there was no reply. He could only hear the covers swishing around meaning you had climbed into bed. Mark slid down the door and sat there, patiently, hoping you would calm down and open the door soon enough. 

You ended up falling asleep for a few hours. As you groggily opened your eyes, you looked up at the block on the nightstand to see it read 8:49pm. You slowly got up and went to unlock the door. When you opened it, Mark fell onto the ground. He groaned and held his head. He must have fallen asleep too while he waited to be let in. A small smile grew from his dedication to fix things between you two. His eyes opened and he looked up at you in time to see the smile before you quickly hid your happiness from him.

“I’m sorry.” You say as you kneel down to help him up. 

“I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean it.” 

“I just..I don’t know what got into me. I was so angry over nothing.” You dragged yourself back to the bed, sitting down at the edge. 

“Y/N, I get it. I’ve gotten like that too.” 

He goes over and joins you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into him. You lean your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Suddenly, you felt his hand clench into a fist and his heart rate speed up. You furrowed your brows together as you look up at him. You realize what’s happening once you notice the familiar look in his eyes. His bottom lip between his teeth so tight, you’re pretty sure you can see some blood. 

You lift yourself up and push him back onto the bed. A small smirk forming on your lips. You crawl on top of him, straddling him. He grabs the back of your neck, pulling you down to him, so he could taste your mouth on his. You moan into the kiss due to how rough and dominant Mark was being. He usually is very loving and gentle; you only see him like this if he’s away and you can’t go with him, making him needy and impatient. 

You begin to lightly grind down into his lap, causing friction between you two. He pulls back from the kiss to roll his head backward as he lets out a throaty groan. You take this opportunity to lift your shirt off and toss it across the room. Mark slowly licked his lips as he took in your beautiful body. You smirked as you unclasped your bra and let it slide down your arms. Mark grabbed it and threw it to the floor before he let his hands grip both of your breasts. His soft hands kneading them caused you let out of a soft, needy moan. You bent back down to kiss Mark harshly. He bit your bottom lip and tugged gently, making you melt into him. 

“I fucking love you.” He whispered into the kiss. 

“And I love fucking you.” You replied. 

Mark nudged you off of him so that you both could take off the rest of the clothing still on your bodies. Once you both were bare, you pushed Mark back onto the bed and kneeled between his legs. Mark knew what was about to come. He fisted the covers as your lips grazed over the tip of his dick. You swirled your tongue around the head which only made Mark groan in frustration. A smirk grew on your lips, knowing that you were the only one who could drive him this crazy. 

He glared down at you and within seconds you had half of his cock in your mouth. A moan escaped his beautiful lips as you began to bob up and down, taking him as far as you could go. You let your hands work what you couldn’t fit. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful with my dick in your mouth.” He said with a raspy tone

You hummed in response which only sent vibrations to him causing him to throw his head back. You released him from your mouth and straddled him. He whined with a little pout as he looked down at you. 

“C’mere, baby. Sit on my face. I wanna taste that sweet little pussy.” He ordered as he squeezed your thighs.

You obeyed and moved upwards so your knees were on either side of his head. He worked his tongue around your clit as his fingers played with your entrance. You rolled your hips against his tongue practically begging for more. He moved his hands to your thighs and dug his nails into them. 

“You taste so fucking good. But I bet you feel even better.” He mumbled against your thigh as he began kissing it.

You moved off of him and laid down on the bed. Mark flipped over and jumped on top of you. He grabbed his erection and began rubbing the head on your pussy. 

“Please fuck me already, daddy.” You froze as you realized what you had just said. Mark chuckled deeply and he bent down to kiss your neck before aligning his eyes with you.

“You want daddy’s cock inside you, baby?” His eyes darkened and all you could do was nod in response. Just like that he trusted into you without warning causing you to yelp. He began to speed up, thrusting harder and faster. 

“You like that? You like when daddy fucks you like the little slut you are?”

“Yes!” You moaned louder than you intended. 

“I’m close, baby. Where do you want me to come?”

“In my pussy, daddy.” You whimpered as your orgasm was creeping up inside you.

Mark sped up causing the bed to rock back and forth, the headboard hitting the wall. Within seconds Mark was spilling himself inside you and the full feeling made you unravel under him. He pulled out of you and laid next to you. You curled up next to him as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“I think I could use a shower?” You say as you notice how sweaty you are.

“Round two?” Mark replies with a goofy smile on his face.

Shoot Me || Jughead Jones

Prompt by @jughat-jones: “You shot me! I can’t believe you shot me!” “You pumped your chest and said ‘Shoot me, motherfucker!’”

A/N: This was a really fun prompt to write! Hope you enjoy it!

Gif by @queeniessgoldstein


“I still don’t know why we have to do this.” you mumbled as you and your best friend walked into a clearing in the woods.

Jughead turned to face you as he walked backwards. He had a paintbrush in one hand and a paint can filled with red paint in the other.

“There’s a killer on the loose. I just want to make sure you know how to defend yourself.”

You scoffed.

“Once again, Jughead, I have my nails. I’ll just claw him. Or her.”

Jughead rolled his eyes and face forward again.

“Yeah, let’s see how that works out when a gun’s to your head.”

You groaned, knowing he was right. He smirked at you before stopping at the edge of the clearing, looking out into the open space.

“Alright,” Jughead said, turning around to face you.

“This should be good. That tree over there,” he said, pointing to medium sized tree across the clearing from you. “Is the one you’re going to hit.”

He jogged over to the tree and quickly painted a red target on it before dropping the paint and the brush and jogging back over to where you were.

He pulled back his jean jacket revealing a gun holster attached to his pants. Your eyes widened.

“You know, you still haven’t told me where you got that.“ you said.

Jughead took the gun out of his holster and sighed, looking at it.

“My dad. He’s the one that taught me how to shoot.” he mumbled.

You nodded. You wanted to know more but you bit your tongue, knowing better than to press him on the subject. Jughead eased the gun into your hand.

“Okay, hold it… Yeah, just like that and have your finger… Perfect,” he said as you held the gun.

He looked over at the target and sighed.

“First layer’s dry but it looks a little faded. Give me a second.” he said and ran over to the tree, grabbing the discarded paint and paintbrush and quickly painting another target over it. He dropped the art supplies again.

“Now,” he said, standing in front of the target, pumping his chest. “Shoot me, motherfucker!” he yelled with a high pitched voice, trying to mock the tree.

You doubled over in laughter at his comment, not paying attention to where your finger was. You accidentally pulled the trigger and the gun went off, the shot echoing around the forest. You heard something hit the ground and froze, looking up.

Jughead was on the ground, groaning and holding what looked to be his arm.

“Jughead!” you screamed, quickly putting the gun on the ground before you ran over to him.

Jughead was indeed gripping his arm and blood was starting to pool through his jean jacket, staining it.

“Oh God, Jughead, I didn’t mean to, it just went off, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you said starting to panic as you swung his uninjured arm over your shoulder and moved your arm so it was gripping his waist, helping him to his feet.

“We need to go to the hospital.”

Despite it all, Jughead laughed.

“You didn’t hit anything vital. I’ll live.” he grunted as he held his arm.

“You still have a bullet in you and you’re bleeding. A lot.”

Jughead slightly shrugged as he inspected his limb.

“It’s not bad,” he said. “Although, you shot me! I can’t believe you shot me!” he exclaimed.

You scoffed as the two of you slowly walked through the woods. You saw your car in the distance. It was a good thing the two of you had chosen to go here rather than drive to the other clearing twenty miles away.

“Well, I mean, you pumped your chest and said, ‘Shoot me, motherfucker!’ What was I supposed to do?” you shot back.

Jughead tried to laugh again but it came out as a hiss as a pain shot up his arm.

“Right. Hospital now, jokes later.” you said as the two of you continued the short walk to your car.

“Now, doesn’t clawing the murderer sound like a better idea than a gun now?” you cockily asked Jughead as the doctor beside him attempted to pull the bullet out.

Jughead growled at the comment and the pain.

“Shut up, Y/N!”


A/N: Send feedback! Let me know what you thought!


@gottalovetheapocalypse @lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @johnmurphys-sass

10 Reasons Why I Think I Made My Worst Investments Ever

I’ve been thinking about my investment style and how it’s changed over the years.

My first few years were pretty rough. I dove right in. I put some money in a brokerage account and just started. I was buying and selling with really no real idea. It was pretty reckless. But everyone starts somewhere.

The other day I started my taxes. That had me looking back at some old trades. Some of them are just awful. But hilarious. I had to include two examples in this post (see them below). I hope by writing this all down I’ll avoid making these mistakes in the future:

1. The P/E ratio is the absolute worst metric ever. It needs to be burned off the front page of every finance website. It is a backward looking metric. The stock market is forward looking. WTF. Avoid this. If a company has a really low P/E ratio, it generally has one for a reason.

2. Stay away from any and all foreign exchange risk. If you buy stock in an ADR or a company based in a country outside the US, and that country’s currency takes a hit, your portfolio is going to feel it. Managing investments is hard enough, you should not have to also worry about currency fluctuations.

3. Picking bottoms and calling tops is Russian roulette. A stock that’s down 50% from its highs can still drop another 50% from there. A stock that’s up 100% over a year can still climb another 100% in the next year.

Here’s one trade where I tried to be the man and short NVIDIA after a massive run

And here’s another. Yes, I actually said this. I thought the tech trade was over

4. Know where you’re going to get out before you make the investment. This makes life much easier. Before you buy a stock, know why and when you’re going to cut it out of your life if it goes against you. Don’t get trapped. Don’t waste time.

5. You need to be a master at avoiding FOMO (fear of missing out). There’s nothing worse than watching a stock spike, and so you buy it. You don’t want to miss out. You just need to join in. F that. Don’t do it. Chasing a stock rarely ever works.

6. Never buy a stock because of buyout rumors or because you think it will get acquired. You want to own strong companies not rumors or theories.

7. Always know your shareholder yield. Does the company pay dividends or have a history of buying back stock? That’s money being returned to you. If there’s no shareholder yield (dividends or buybacks), you’re basically left with a bet on growth. Know the difference. It will change your timeframe and expectations for any single investment.

8. You can’t ignore the overall market. In bear markets, they say all correlations go to 1. It’s hard to find quality stocks in bear markets. Everyone makes money in bull markets so don’t let it get to your head.

9. Study the tax code. It will immediately change the way you invest or trade. Trading can be a lot of fun. But at tax time it sucks. It’s a lot of work and even more taxes. You can save up to 20% on capital gains taxes when you hold a stock for more than a year.

10. The Internet is your best friend in the world of financial markets. But you have to double check everything. There’s so much free research available. There are also so many smart people writing and sharing ideas each day. But you still need to double check it all. If you like a trading or investing idea from someone online, make sure you corroborate the data yourself.

anonymous asked:

Okay but dom phil teasing sub Dan on New Year's Eve, telling him he can't come until 12:00

contains frottage, edging, neck kink, daddy kink, facefucking, some hair tugging~

* Dan and Phil were ringing in the new year the way they lived the past one: in their own little world, just the two of them. They were watching the rest of Planet Earth 2 since they’d both fallen asleep watching it last time. 

* Phil suddenly thought of something and he hid his smirk with a casual rub of his nose, casually checking the time on his phone and then glancing over to Dan, who was intently studying the hummingbird currently onscreen. They were lying in Phil’s bed, close together, so Phil casually rolled over onto his side to face Dan, moving his hand underneath the covers to brush past Dan’s crotch as he “innocently” settled his hand on Dan’s hip, still looking at the TV so he wouldn’t raise suspicion. Dan shifted a little and looked at him, but quickly went back to looking at the TV.

* Phil nestled his head on Dan’s chest, making sure he was close enough to Dan’s neck. He started lightly stroking Dan’s cock through his pants, not giving enough stimulation to do anything other than get him worked up. He could feel Dan tense underneath him, and quickly tilted up to start licking at Dan’s neck. Dan gasped at the sudden feeling and immediately leaned his head back to give Phil better access, arching up into the touch. 

* “Phil,” he said breathily, clenching a hand in the back of Phil’s shirt, which was all he could reach at the moment. 

* “Hey, I have a fun idea,” Phil said huskily, purposely speaking into Dan’s neck so his warm breath would fan across the now-wet skin. He was rewarded by Dan shivering. “How about you don’t cum until midnight? It’ll be a fun start to 2017.” 

* “What time is it now?” Dan asked, his voice jumping higher suddenly when Phil stroked his cock with more pressure. 

* “Almost 11,” Phil said, cutting off Dan’s objection by continuing to lick Dan’s neck. He could feel Dan writhe under him, begging him to do more.

* Phil pushed back the covers a little so he could straddle Dan, but when they both shivered at the cold air, Phil pulled the blanket up again before holding down Dan’s arms and kissing him hard. Phil started grinding his hips against him as they started making out, and Dan moaned into his mouth.

* With Dan’s hands out of the way, Phil started kissing down Dan’s jaw and ended at his neck. He quickly looked up to make cheeky eye contact with him before sucking at Dan’s neck, using teeth a little to intensify the sensation. Dan bucked hard underneath him and a breathy, “Fuck,” slipped from his lips. 

* Phil abruptly stopped and got off of Dan, reaching for something in his bedside drawer as he smirked at Dan’s protest. 

* “Tell me when you’re about to cum or I’ll punish you,” Phil said, his cheerful tone totally at odds with what he was saying. He sat on top of Dan again and held up a vibrator; Dan wiggled under him as he whined, “Nooooo!” 

* “Good boys only cum when Daddy says,” Phil said firmly. He held down Dan’s hands by putting his shins over them, before turning on the vibrator and pressing it to Dan’s crotch over his clothes. The stimulation was muted somewhat because of his clothes but it was still enough to get Dan to roll his hips against it. Phil stroked the vibrator over Dan’s cock since it was easily visible through the material after what they’d done already, and he could feel Dan’s hands flex. Phil watched Dan bite his lip and arch his back again, panting a little as Phil turned the vibration up. 

* “No, Daddy, don’t stop,” Dan whined when Phil suddenly turned the vibrator off and put it on the bed next to them. Phil ran his finger along the outline of Dan’s cock teasingly before flicking his inner thigh. “Shhh, baby, be a good boy for Daddy.” 

* Phil kept lightly running his finger back and forth; it wasn’t enough to anything other than frustrate Dan, who desperately wanted to be touched again. “Daddy,” Dan whined. “Stop teasing me.” 

* “I told you already that you’re not cumming until midnight,” Phil said, moving his hand away completely. He got off of Dan and picked up the vibrator again, turning it up high before pressing it against him again, and Dan yelled at the sudden sensation, his fingers clenching the bedsheets tightly. 

* “No touching, now,” Phil told him. “Keep your hands right there.” Dan moaned, his cheeks pink, and then Phil suddenly turned the vibrator off again. He sat there looking at Dan who was breathing hard, still clenching the bedsheets so that he could forcibly remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. 

* “Please, Daddy, touch me,” Dan begged, his eyes wide and imploring. 

* “I don’t think I will,” Phil said, turning a little so he was looking away from Dan but could still see him out of the corner of his eye. “If you keep this up, maybe I won’t let you cum at all.” He glanced at Dan to see his reaction: Dan bit his lip and looked horrified. “I’ll be good, Daddy,” he said desperately.

* “Good boy.” Phil praised him as he hooked his fingers in Dan’s waistband. “Hips up so I can pull these down.” Dan immediately obeyed. Phil only pulled his pants and underwear down enough to access his cock and started softly stroking him, too light to really get Dan going. 

* “Only about half an hour left, baby,” Phil said, rubbing Dan’s tip. Dan gasped at the feeling. 

* Phil closed his mouth around the head of Dan’s cock, licking at the same spot he’d rubbed with his thumb just before. He also slipped a hand under Dan to squeeze his butt, purposely digging his nails in a little bit. When Dan thrust up into Phil’s mouth, Phil sat up and looked at him as a warning, before using his other hand to firmly hold Dan’s hips down. He licked a long stripe up the underside of Dan’s cock, his tongue flat, before licking with the tip of his tongue at Dan’s frenulum, then suddenly took all of Dan’s cock into his mouth. He made eye contact with Dan before bobbing his head up and down, barely using his tongue so he could tease Dan some more. 

* “Daddy,” Dan moaned. Phil took the hint and drew away from Dan. “You’re such a good boy for me,” Phil said, caressing Dan’s face. “Suck.” 

* Phil slipped two of his fingers into Dan’s mouth, and Dan licked at it like it was Phil’s cock. Phil pumped his fingers a little, letting them slide across Dan’s lips. Since Dan was occupied with Phil’s fingers, Phil took the opportunity to start stroking Dan in earnest, still not intending for him to cum but wanting to ramp up the teasing. Dan moaned around Phil’s fingers, sucking harder.

* Phil had only really intended to just tease Dan and then let him cum, but seeing Dan undone like that… Phil withdrew his fingers from Dan’s mouth and took his cock out of his pants. “Daddy wants you to suck him off, is that okay?”

* Dan nodded furiously, shifting a little so Phil could arrange himself. Kneeling over Dan, Phil guided his cock into Dan’s waiting mouth, holding himself up using the headboard. “Remember, no touching yourself.” 

* Phil couldn’t help putting a hand on Dan’s head to feel the back-and-forth movement, tugging at his hair a little. Dan moaned at the slight pain and started going faster. “You’re so pretty like this, you’re such a good boy,” Phil groaned. “Can Daddy fuck your mouth?”

* Dan looked up at him and let his jaw go slack, an open invitation. Phil gripped Dan’s hair harder and maintained eye contact with him as he thrust into Dan’s mouth. “You feel so good,” Phil panted. 

* Phil didn’t bother to let Dan know when he was about to cum, since Phil liked to surprise Dan with it and Dan didn’t mind. 

* Tucking himself back into his pants, Phil checked the time again. 

* “Looks like it’s time for you to get your reward,” Phil said. He kissed Dan, tasting himself on his lips, and nibbling at Dan’s bottom lip. They made out for a while, Phil grinding on Dan again. His pants rubbing against Dan’s bare cock caused slightly uncomfortable friction but at the same time Dan was relieved to have some stimulation again. 

* Phil kissed and licked at Dan’s neck again, just to make sure Dan’s erection was fully present, and Dan moaned loudly, keyed up from all of the edging. 

* Phil took Dan’s cock in hand, settling his mouth over whatever else he couldn’t hold, and started pumping his hand and bobbing his head at the same time, looking Dan right in the eyes. He loosely laced the fingers of his left hand with Dan’s right hand.

* When he felt Dan grasp his fingers tighter and heard him breathe harder, he took his mouth off of Dan and blew cold air at the wet skin, continuing to pump with his hand. “Cum for me, baby.” 

* Cum splattered all over Dan’s shirt, and Phil stroked him through his orgasm before kissing him sweetly on the lips. 

* “Happy New Year, Dan,” he said, smiling. “I love you.” 

* “Happy New Year, Phil,” Dan replied, still breathing hard but grinning. “I love you too.” 

* Dan stripped his shirt off, turning it inside out before throwing it on the floor and grabbing one of Phil’s shirts to put on. He settled next to Phil, who threw an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Dan rested his head on Phil’s chest.

* “Can we rewind to the part with the hummingbirds? When you started touching me I got distracted and I really want to appreciate their aesthetic.”

* “You’re such a nerd… But okay, I do want to see them too. Flying backwards is so cool.”

hey buddies hope you all had a nice holiday and the start of 2017 has been good to you!

just as a heads up I probably won’t write another hc until after next week as my grandma just passed away this week, so I have to write a speech (apparently not a eulogy because someone else is doing that…) for her funeral.

- Rebecca

Send us your sins

Tyler Seguin Imagine

Tyler Seguin: NHL (Dallas Stars)

Not Requested

Music: HERE

Warnings: none

Word Count: 787

“Tyler, I understand that you said it was my decision and that you’ll support whatever I pick, but I’m terrified you’re going to hate it.” You said, following him through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Y/N, baby,” he turned to you, placing both of his hands on either side of your head, “I said it before and I’ll say it again: whatever you decide, I will love. I promise.” You sighed.

“But what if you secretly hate it and then you don’t ever tell me and it ruins our relationship forever?” Tyler rolled his eyes at you and turned toward the kitchen counter.

“Baby, that’s not going to happen. I told you that you would get complete freedom when it came to the renovation. You can do whatever you want. I will love it, purely because you picked it out.” He mixed a protein shake as you leaned next to him, with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And you’re one hundred percent sure?”

“Yes. Now, don’t you have a wedding and a house renovation to plan?” Tyler leaned over and pecked your lips, scooping his keys off of the counter.

“Okay okay. Have a good practice.” He gave you his award winning smile and disappeared into the garage. You sighed to yourself, a small smile on your lips. Marshall came running up to you and nudged your leg. You softly pet his head as you walked into the adjoining living room. You settled yourself onto the leather couch and turned on to the flatscreen to HGTV. For the past two weeks, that was the only show that played in the house.

Tyler had proposed almost six months ago. The two of you, being pressured by fans, friends and family, decided to do things slowly, so your wedding wasn’t for another 15 months. That was okay with both of you. You both knew you had an entire lifetime together and didn’t see the need to rush into everything.

Then after seeing a beautiful entryway on Pinterest, you rushed to show Tyler and you couldn’t help the love for it that poured from your mouth. Tyler looked at you for a moment and then shrugged.

“Do it.” He had said. You were in disbelief. Part of you thought he was joking but then when he asked if you had started looking at hardwood flooring yet about two weeks later, you knew he was serious. So here you were, in the process planning a house renovation and a wedding. Although, despite your mother’s complaints, the wedding had been put on the back burner.

You shuffled through your endless house magazines until you found specifically the one you were looking for. You opened it to the bookmarked page and stared at the beautiful bathroom with elements that you dreamed of applying to your home’s master bath.

You sighed once more, shoving the magazine away, raking a hand through your dark hair. You were tired of only looking at ideas and not actually doing anything. You stood up suddenly and ran to the garage, throwing open the door and pulling out the sledgehammer that was put into storage ages ago. You angrily stomped upstairs to the master bathroom.

You looked around the room. While it was a gorgeous bathroom, you were tired of looking at it. You were ready for new. You wanted action. You lifted the sledgehammer above your head and brought it crashing down onto the ceramic countertop. A satisfying crack echoed through the house.

The sense of pride that filled your chest was enough to keep you motivated until the entire room was just dust and rubble.

“Babe?” Tyler’s voice shocked you and you jumped around, staring at him. His eyes were wide and he was looking everywhere but you. He was quiet as he took in the mess.

“What happened?” He looked at you, a hint of a smile on his lips. You looked around and shrugged, grinning.

“I got bored?” You response came out as more of a question. Tyler grinned and nodded.

“It’s progress. I’m digging it.” You walked over to him and he planted a big kiss on your lips, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You deepened the kiss, gliding your tongue over his warm lips.

“Progress.” You repeated, pulling away breathless.

“Progress towards our new life together. I love it, baby, and you.” He kissed you again harder, walking you backwards. You stumbled over your feet and giggled as he had to catch you. He laid you down onto the bed. He kissed you again, softer, while smiling.

“I’m excited to see what you do.”

“Me too, Ty.” He kissed you, bumping your nose with his own.

girls like dollies chapter 5 (trixya) - lale

Here’s the next chapter of girls like dollies! Poor Trixie’s struggling with her feelings a lot this chapter – bear in mind the warning for internalised homophobia – and it was kind of cathartic to write this after spending all of my teenage years convincing myself that I had ‘girl crushes’ instead of crushes! I hope you all enjoy!

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