i have no brain for writing tonight

Bitch, I Might Be

Summary: Classic Dean helps Reader sleep plot

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1084

A/N: So, I couldn’t sleep last night or tonight. I was all spazzy (just ask @kclaire1 who got a really confusing email from me… oops!) and I don’t know why, so I decided to just write about it! It’s only three weeks into the semester and I think I’m going crazy. I wonder how insane I’ll be by midterms or finals. Also I think this is a gender neutral reader! (Of course my brain isn’t working so I might have missed something)


It’s three o’ fucking clock in the morning and I’m cleaning the bunker’s kitchen. Why? No idea. I mean, Sam keeps it clean enough. The Winchesters aren’t slobs. Actually, they’re cleaner than I am. I’m the token dirty roommate in this trio.

Which brings me back to the question: Why the hell am I cleaning the kitchen at three a.m.?

Well, really, I should be asking the questions: Why the hell can’t I sleep? Where the hell did all of this energy come from?

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Sober - Part 1/2 - Nessian fic

Summary: In which Nesta and Cassian get into drinking contests.

AO3 : Inspired by this prompt (”everything is fuck”)

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

Nesta threw open the curtains of the bedroom and was rewarded with a grunt from Cassian. After securing the heavy fabric, she turned to the bed.

“Cassian,” she said, a reminder that the curtains hadn’t opened themselves, and that he had responsibilities to attend to.

A muffled sound came from the pillow. Sheets were wrapped around his hips low enough so that Nesta said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t move too much. And another simultaneous prayer that he would.

“What was that noise?” she asked.

Cassian lifted his head. “Everything is fuck.” He threw his face back down dramatically, gripping the pillow as if it would save him from the way the sunlight invaded his senses, or perhaps it might serve as an anchor in a room that wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Everything is most certainly not ‘fuck’,” she answered. “The weather is perfect for training, which is where you should be right now. Stop lazing about and setting a bad example.”

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A Royal Proposal

King George III x Reader 

Note: I apologize if this isn’t very good, it’s my first attempt at writing King George so I hope it’s alright! Also yay for another terrible ending, I think bad endings may be my trademark honestly

Request: @more-ham-imagines Hi! I just stalked through your blog and side note: STAR TREK!! Your writing is so good! Can I request something with King George or with Hercules Mulligan? Whichever you like. I’m sorry that I don’t have a prompt, my brain broke. Have a nice night day idk I’ve been holed up in my room all day oops. Thanks!!!

Prompts: 333. “Why choose me?” and 443. “Excuse you” 

Word Count: 714

Originally posted by drunkbroadway

As the maid pulls the laces on your corset tighter you attempt to avoid grunting. You’ve always hated wearing corsets, the way they dig into your ribs making you feel as if you can’t breathe properly, but tonight you have no choice but to wear one.

King George has requested you have a private dinner with him and you must look your absolute best. Your hair has been pull up on top of your head, powder adorns your face, and you are being laced into the very best dress you own.

You can’t imagine why the King wants to have dinner with only you tonight, the two of you have met several times at balls and other events and he has always been quite friendly with you. But lately his attention has gotten more and more common, you’re incredibly flattered by it but also worried. The King is well known for being quite the flirt, leading women on only to kill their hopes.

“Miss Y/N, King George is ready for you is his private dining chambers” You take one last deep breath to steady yourself before allowing yourself to be led to the King.


The King is already seated at the table when you are let into the room. He looks up at you as you enter and you curtsy, focusing on your breathing so you don’t pass out from the anxiety in your stomach and the lack of air reaching your lungs due to the corset.

“Your Majesty” you say as you curtsy before slowly making your way towards the table.

As you reach him he gives you a smile, standing up to kiss your hand and look you over.

“My dear you look absolutely ravishing tonight” your cheeks heat up at the words and you hope he doesn’t notice your blushing. “Please have a seat” he says gesturing to the seat to the left of his.

“Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself your Majesty” you reply as you sink into the chair, he pushes it in for you before taking his own.

“Oh please my dear, no need to be so formal it’s just the two of us. Please call me George” his smile stays on his lips and you give him one of your own.

“Of course George” you say carefully.

“I’m sure you are wondering why I asked you to dinner tonight” he says as he pours the both of you a cup of wine. “I have something that I wish to ask of you” he explains.

As he speaks he reaches into his pocket, pulling something out. “It has been the topic of conversation around the castle for a long time, when I will choose a Queen” he explains and you gasp as he holds out a ring towards you. “I have given the matter a lot of thought, and I would like you to be my wife. If you would have me as your husband of course”

You stare down at the ring in his hand with wide eyes and you jaw slack. Of all the ideas that had been floating through your head as to why he wanted to have dinner with you tonight, this is not what you were expecting. You look up into his smiling face and take a breath.

“Why choose me?” the words slip out before you can stop them and his smile turns into a frown.

“Excuse you?” he asks.

“Oh no I don’t mean to offend you, I just… there are so many other women, so many others who come from much better breeding than I do. Why not pick one of them to be your Queen?” you ask him and he huffs a small laugh, reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Because you bring something to my life that those other women do not” you frown “Fun. I have not felt that with anyone else and it is why I would like you to rule by my side” he explains. “So, what do you say”

You feel the smile spreading across your face as you gently squeeze his hand.

“Yes, George I would love to be your Queen” you tell him. He slides the ring onto your finger and leans forward to press his lips to yours.

Pillow

Pairing: Reader X Arthur Pendragon (Merlin BBC)

Prompt: You are King Uther’s personal servant and when he tells you to go get his son for an important meeting you end up walking in on a naked Arthur. 

Warnings: Breif nudity 

A/N: This isn’t really a super cute fluffy piece, I just through it would be really funny if something like this was to happen between the reader and Arthur.


You let your feet carry you quickly down the hallway of the castle in the direction of the king’s chambers, fresh linens folded neatly in your arms. You had been the king’s personal servant for several months now and a strict routine had been established. Although you were never very good at following instruction you had learned to rather quickly once you began to serve the king, especially after realizing the slight perfectionist personality trait that the king had. 

Aside from daily chores, each day of the week had an important task that differed from all the others. Today was Monday which meant remaking the king’s bed with fresh sheets for the week. 

You ball your hand into a small fist once you reached the large wooden doors into the king’s chambers, knocking twice and then pausing before knocking once more to signify that it was you and not a guard or other servant requesting the king’s time. 

“Come in.” you heard, the voice of the king muffled by the thick door that was in between the two of you. You reached down to the door knob before turning it and pushing the heavy door open. 

“Good morning my lord.” you spoke once you were inside the brightly lit chambers. You curtsied to the best of your ability with the sheets in your hand before walking over towards Uther’s messy bed. He was too busy scribbling away at a piece of parchment to even notice your pathetic attempt at a curtsey. “How did you sleep?” you asked politely, placing the clean linens on the night stand next to the bed before beginning to peel off the dirty sheets. 

“Rather badly.” the king responded in a blank tone. You glanced over to see that his hand had stopped moving over the paper, his eyes glued to the words he had just wrote. His brow furrowed slightly in confusion. He then placed the parchment down on his desk and sighed, frustration filling the noise.

“I’m sorry my lord.” you apologized, assuming he was struggling with writing his upcoming speech. Uther often lost sleep in the days approaching a large announcement, partly because of nerves and partly because his brain would not stop thinking of different ways to word what he was trying to say. “Hopefully you will get better rest tonight in your fresh linens.” you smiled, hoping that your dash of positivity would perhaps bring a smile to the stressed king’s face. It didn’t.

“I have a meeting with Arthur in several minutes, leave the sheets for now and go fetch him please.” the king ordered as he brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes harshly. 

“Of course my lord.” you nodded, dropping the dirty sheets in a pile on top of the bed before turning and exiting the king’s chambers. 

Your feet carried you back down the hall in the opposite direction that you had been heading in no less than five minutes ago.

Although you had never been particularly close with Arthur you had served him on two occasions whilst Merlin, his servant, was sick. On those two occasions Arthur had acted the complete opposite of the way Merlin had told you to prepare yourself for. Rather than being brash and aggressive he had come off as shy and harmless. When you had told Merlin this all he did was laugh in your face and ask you if you were sure you were serving Prince Arthur. 

It only took you a minute to reach Arthur’s door, your fist knocking on the oak wood. You waited for a moment only to hear no reply. You knocked once more and once more their was silence. So, you being you, decided to enter anyway. 

“Sire.” you spoke in a soft voice, peering into Arthur’s seemingly Arthur-less chambers. You stepped into the cool room before repeating yourself once again.

This time however you did get a response in a rather unexpected way. You flinched slightly as a figure moved out from behind the tall dressing wall. The figure belonged to a very naked Arthur holding a blue shirt in one hand and a red one in the other. 

“Merlin, which shirt did you wash, they both smell horrib-” Arthur began only to freeze the moment he saw that you were not the lanky, black haired boy he had been expecting. He quickly dropped the shirts and grabbed a pillow that was sitting on top of his unmade bed, using it to cover his crotch. “You’re not Merlin.” he spoke, swallowing hard.

Originally posted by arthur-thedollophead

“I’m so sorry.” you blinked looking up at the ceiling of the chambers. “King Uther has requested your presents in his chambers.” you spoke quickly before turning back towards the door and opening it swiftly. 

You let it close and latch behind you before you leaned your body up against it, your eyes falling to the ground as your mind replayed what had just happened over and over again. You had just seen the king’s son naked. You had just seen way more of Prince Arthur than you had ever expected. And on top of all of that, you didn’t mind. 

anonymous asked:

your fav shiro-ship for the ask meme?

nooooooo don’t make me choooose. but anyway, here’s some good ol’ sheith for the soul


Who said “I love you” first?

Shiro. It was total accident, Shiro hadn’t been planning on saying it yet, was likely planning some big, romantic reveal. But then Keith made Shiro laugh till he almost started crying, and while Shiro was still trying to stop he just looked at Keith with happiest, sweetest smile and fondly said, “I love you.” It caught them both off-guard, but before Shiro could cover for his slip and try to take it back, Keith brought Shiro close and whispered his response against Shiro’s lips.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background?

Both. 

After the Kerberos mission, Keith had set one of his old pictures of Shiro as his phone background. It was of Shiro smiling at one of their regular dinners, probably laughing at some terrible joke he’d probably made and Keith had probably rolled his eyes at. Some days, he’d hated it. Hated the reminder of what he’d lost right there in front of him, as though it wasn’t already constantly on his mind. Most of the time, though, he’d just stare at it long into the night and try to recapture how Shiro had made him feel when he’d still been alive. He never quite could. When they all finally get back to Earth, after Zarkon and his Empire have been defeated, Keith takes a picture of Shiro early one morning. He’s still in his pajamas and is holding a steaming cup of coffee in his lap, staring out over the desert as the first rays of sunlight breach the horizon. He’s at peace and Keith doesn’t have to wonder how he makes him feel anymore.

Shiro had a photo of Keith when he’d fallen asleep at their counter, head in hand. Keith made him delete it cause he’s drooling in the picture, but Shiro still kept the photo. He made a compromise with Keith about having a photo of him as his background by making it the both of them. Now, Shiro’s background is a selfie of Shiro and Keith’s faces pressed forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Keith has his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips, while Shiro is looking down at Keith and biting his lip. 

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror?

Keith isn’t very good at coming up with things to say or write on the fly, so he usually just leaves a little doodle on the mirror, like a little lion or a mini Voltron. Keith is actually pretty artistic. Shiro will sometimes leave a reminder for Keith, like to pick up milk from the store or that they have lunch with Lance and Hunk that day, but he always leaves a really bad doodle behind that always make Keith laugh. 

Who buys the other cheesy gifts?

Keith. He’s one of those people that will just be out and about and see something that reminds him of Shiro or that he thinks Shiro would like, and he’ll just get it on impulse. Shiro loves each weird little thing Keith gets him and is always really touched that things made Keith think of him.

Who initiated the first kiss?

Keith. When he finally gets Shiro back after the second time he disappeared, he just pulls Shiro down and kisses him without a thought cause god he missed him so much.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning?

Keith. He’s the natural early riser, between the two. But usually he’ll just let Shiro sleep and go make breakfast for the two of them. It’s only if Shiro doesn’t wake up before Keith finishes cooking that he goes back to their room and gives him kisses.

Who starts tickle fights?

SHIRO. His absolute favorite sound in the world is Keith’s laughter, and although tickle attacks are a bit dangerous (Keith has very sharp elbows), it’s totally worth it to hear Keith shriek and laugh.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower?

Keith. Shiro sometimes has issues with showers, due to his past trauma and some body issues he’s developed, so he’s generally a really fast shower taker. But sometimes Keith will come in and get him to slow down and really enjoy himself.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch?

Shiro. He likes to take Keith out to lunch, on occasion, since Keith does most of the cooking. (Shiro isn’t hopeless, but that doesn’t mean he’s particularly good. He can make, like, 2 things well. But he makes up for it with going out and thank you kisses when Keith has to intervene and save their dinner.)

Who was nervous and shy on the first date?

Neither of them. Oh, they were both nervous leading up to it, sure. Things like, is this really gonna work out?, should I even be wearing this?, what are we gonna talk about, we already know each other… ran through both their heads. But once they were finally sitting down at the little table Lance and Allura had set up, and eating the dinner Hunk and whipped up for them with the low lighting and soft music courtesy of Pidge and Coran? They were both completely at ease. Yes, things worked out. Yes, they both looked great. And when they ran out of things to talk about? Well, neither of them ever really minded the quiet, as long as they were together.

Who kills/takes out the spiders?

Both of them can, but if they’re both home, Shiro usually gets Keith to do it. Keith has zero fear of any bugs. Shiro, a rational human with normal fears, does not go near the potentially deadly creepy crawlers unless he doesn’t have a choice.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk?

SHIRO. He such a loving and cuddly drunk. He likes to list all the things he loves about Keith to anyone who will listen, including Keith. Only, when he’s saying it to Keith, it’s usually whispered into his neck between kisses;)

More Than Meets Those Eyes (Harry Wells x Reader)

Rating: T

Summary: In your Quantum Theory Master Class, everyone has read his biography and every woman is going bonkers for him; becoming putty in his hands and melting in his lectures. That is the effect of Harrison Wells. Only you don’t feel quite the same as your classmates. But will a special one-on-one encounter with the enigmatic scientist change your mind?

Originally posted by theflashsgifs

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1. I get sad when I’m in bed and the only thing I want is to be next to you and I know you don’t feel the same. But I want you like I haven’t wanted something in quite sometime and no matter how much I try it’s not enough. Be mine be mine be mine, please, I love you!!

2. Sadly silence speaks volume and with every insincere touch and smile you told not me but my brain and heart and each inch of me in between, that she’s always been what you wanted.

3. I don’t know why I’ve been waking up so often during the night, but tonight is different because I know tomorrow morning I’m not looking too forward to having to sit with you in class and act like I don’t care that we’re over. - 5:48AM 01/20/14

4. I keep trying to write a poem about you but no matter how many times I try, no combination of words can capture how beautiful you were to me.

5. I need you now more than ever, but if you’re not going to be there for me then I can’t be around you at all.. I don’t even want to put this kind of pressure or obligation on you, I want you to just care.. After all this I wanted you with me more than anything, crazy huh. Now I’m confused because I still just want to be close to you and give myself to you. But I can’t do that now, I know I’m a hypocrite but like I said, you might be okay with it but the same fucking day? I could’ve forgave you since I’ve already done it too. I bet you have secretly also. But thanks for proving to me I wasn’t good enough. - 6:54pm 03/23/14 

6. I love you

-1:27 AM 03/28/14

7. Rise and shine beautiful! 
The sun may not be shinning but you are in my eyes; so wake up quickly so I can run over all comfy with my hair and make up half done just to see that smile I’ve been dying to be close to all week. Tell me that I’m pretty before you embrace my body close, as it becomes in sync with yours, each motion and moan following the next so naturally like the tempo of my favourite song which you’ve played for me one too many times. 
In awe I can lay there and stay with you for hours, easily, effortlessly, and I’ll kiss your spine and wrap your hair between my fingers which long to be held again. All the while you’ll turn ice cold, no longer shining but dull, the smile I’ve been missing, disappears as we part to our own ends of the mattress.
That’s when I realize time after time that this is the final wake up call, so rise and shine lovely, this is all it’ll ever be. - 10AM 04/05/14

8. it’s raining and each drop is reminding me of you
I’m not exactly sure why, but
I’ve always wanted to kiss you in the rain.
my tears right now are similar to the rain drops
one at a time they’re falling
each one another reason why I can’t be without you
- 11:07AM 04/07/14

9. you’ve built an empire around my heart and no one else is strong enough to defeat it. 

-11:08AM 04/13/2014

10. I can’t stop shaking these days. I never sleep quite right. I may have given you too many pieces of me. I don’t feel whole anymore.

11. I know you probably think I’m weird when I compare our love to ice cold finger tips, but the first time I met you, you held my hand over ice and from then on I’ve had a burning fire in my heart.

12. You said poetry was all lies dressed up to sound pretty. When I look at you these days, I want to ask if sadness sounds pretty to you too.
- 04/17/14 10:01AM

13. We were never in love, but, oh God, we could have been

14. You always said you hated being skinny but you have no idea how beautiful I thought it was.
- 04/22/14 12:52PM

15. I decided on you, don’t you get that? I decided on you. I don’t want to go fucking other people and then walk around feeling thrilled and then sad, or empty, or whatever. I like the smell of your hair, and I like the sound of your voice, and I fucking decided on you.
- 04/22/14 6:24PM

16. I forget how to feel
 and maybe I don’t exist in your world anymore
 but damn it,
 you were my whole universe. 


17. You’re inside my fucking head. Please don’t leave it’s all I have left of you.

- 04/25/14 10:38AM

18. You told me you’ve been thinking about me, you’re feeling everything I hoped you one day would.
- 05/10/14 10:39AM

19. I missed the sight of your eyes rolling back and the taste of my name on your tongue when you moan.
- 05/10/14 10:40AM

20. I find it best to not allow ourselves to get attached again. Because recently I cringe at the touch of your skin after we are intimate together. And don’t take it wrong, I do love you. But let’s make this easier on the both of us. Seeing you again has been lovely but this time I know better. That’s why last night when you visited my dream, you reached out to hold me and I kept running.
- 05/19/14 9:33AM

21. YOUR CHEEKBONES ARE SO DEFINED AND THEY CUT MY HEART IN HALF BUT I’M JUST MESMERISED BY HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY ARE
- 05/23/14 7:15PM

22. I am sad that I wasn’t the one you chose to spend such and important day of your life with because I am the one who loves you.
- 05/30/14 6:00PM

23. I miss you and need you to hold me while I sleep. I want your breathing in my ear and your cock on my ass.
- 06/05/14 9:53PM

24. wake up I miss you
- 06/06/14 3:44AM

25. Someone asked me to describe home and I almost said your name but I stayed quiet instead, people expect you to say a damn place but I felt more at home in your two arms than I ever did in my own house.
- 06/10/14 10:00AM

26. you were the star of my nightmare last night, I woke up grasping onto our memories for dear life.
- 06/13/14 10:56AM

27. I don’t know if I still miss you or I just suck at adjusting to change but I met a boy who makes me smile last week and I’m still waiting for an answer to the text I sent you 3 days ago.
- 07/03/14 7:44AM

28. I passed your house 12 times the last few days and each time all I found was darkness and an empty driveway. I haven’t seen you in what feels like three weeks and I was beginning to wonder if you hopped on the first plane out of here without saying bye
- 07/04/14 8:10AM

29. You had to mention her name. Are you trying to throw it in my face or remind me why I despise you?
- 07/05/14 8:45PM

30. ✨ my clit throbs 4 u ✨
- 07/08/14 3:22PM

31. I’m just tired and scared and sad because you don’t see me the way I see you and you’re the humming in my veins while I’m just dust on your fingertips
- 07/10/14 8:27AM

32. If you’ll be my star, I’ll be your sky, you can hide underneath me and come out at night, when I turn jet black and you show off your light, I live to let you shine.
- 07/11/14 10:15PM

33. I stopped on your back porch and broke down and when I turned around your lights were already off.
- 07/13/14 3:00AM

34. Cause at the end of the night I’ll always love you
- 07/13/14 3:19AM

35. It hurts being with you but I’d probably die without you
- 07/14/14 11:21AM

36. My voice cracks like leaking pipes, and I forget to apologize for the flood. Some days I pretend that you haven’t seen the dirty parts of me already. That you don’t know the alleyway in these veins.
- 07/18/14 2:54AM

37. When you kiss your new girlfriend I wonder if she appreciates the fact that you taste like thunderstorms, if she can feel the crackle of lightning on your tongue. 
When you toss your hair and laugh at something she said I try to recall the last time I lit up your world like that.
 When you don’t look my way, I remember when you didn’t love me anymore.
 When you look at her, I remember when you did.
- 07/21/14 2:56AM

38. let me wake you up with conscious clear thoughts and stained sheets beneath you, let me crawl on top of you while you trace the goose bumps on my inner thighs, as you push the hair from my face, as you moan into my ear everything I want to hear.
- 07/22/14 9:31AM

39. I opened my heart to let you in but you were toxic and now you’re under my skin and no matter how deep I cut you’re in my veins and I can’t get you out of my system.
- 08/01/14 10:42AM

40. please tell me that I’m not as forgettable as your silence makes me feel
- 08/03/14 12:18AM

41. If I could, I would nail these hands to the edges of stars, I would sacrifice this body to the sky; hoping to resurrect as somebody spiteful enough to not care about you anymore.
- 08/05/14 12:17PM

42. You’re the cause for the bags under my eyes, for keeping me up at the thought of our touch. I’m tired. I’m drained. I want you.
- 08/09/14 11:19PM

43. I don’t care anymore, but sometimes, it just hurts a little.
- 08/13/14 1:18AM

44. I woke up today and realized that what we had is dead.
- 08/22/14 2:24AM*

45. who are you, I think you’re finally getting your wish because I have no aspiration of seeing you anymore.
- 08/27/14 9:41AM

46. every time you hurt me I apologized because I felt guilty for making you feel bad
- 09/01/14 1:06PM

47. nostalgia creeps the empty halls in which your voice use to echo. Loneliness fills the empty seat on either side of my body; the seat you once possessed.
- 09/04/14 10:21AM

48. Your words went deep down my throat and so did the pills when I tried to figure out how I was to survive without you.
- 09/06/14 1:49PM

49. I could be doing better if you were here right now
- 09/08/14 4:29AM

50. am I suppose to rip the two separate parts of heart from my chest for you to see that you broke it
- 09/09/14 3:55PM

—  I don’t want to write you anymore (Jp)
Mulder’s Journal

Entry One (Millennium):

Scully,  Dana,

I’ve been sitting here for close to an hour now, just trying to find the words. Trying to figure out how to tell you what I learned today.

And then I remembered. You wrote to me in a journal, once. Maybe it’s fitting that I do the same, now. At the very least, maybe it will help me make sense of things enough in my head that I can tell you out loud. Once I can find the words, then I just have to find the courage to say them.

Unfortunately, that might be the hardest part.

Maybe it’s because I’m not ready to believe it yet, myself. More likely it’s because I can’t bring myself to do anything that might dampen the beautiful light in your eyes. You’ve been through more than enough pain for one lifetime; how could I possibly justify causing you more?

Jesus, you’re not even here and I’m still stalling.

Okay. Here it is in black and white: There’s something wrong with my brain. I’m sick.

The doctors don’t know what it is, but as of today, they know some of the things it’s not. It’s not cancer or an aneurysm. It’s not whatever happened before with the artifact. It’s not multiple sclerosis or Lou Gehrig’s or Alzheimer’s. I should be relieved, but… better the devil you know, right?

So, they don’t know what’s wrong with me. They’re going to do some more tests soon. And I know I should tell you. Hell, if it were you, I’d want to know. When you were sick, before, I hated being in the dark. So I get it, and I’ll tell you. I will. It’s just…

You were so happy this morning. It’s a brand new year, and we wrapped up that case last night (zombies, Scully, we fought actual zombies and won, I just want you to remember that), and then it was so late by the time we got back to my apartment that you actually stayed over. You woke up in my bed this morning, which is undeniably the best way I’ve ever started a new year, and I got to make you breakfast (not bad for a guy with one fully functional arm) and take you back to bed again after. It was too perfect to ruin, to tell you that I had an appointment to get my brain checked out this afternoon. And then after, once I had my laundry list of non-answers… I still don’t know how to break it to you.

I’m a coward, Dana. You’ll be here soon, and I had every intention of telling you tonight, and writing this out was supposed to help, but all it’s done is remind me how beautiful your smile is, how happy you’ve been these past few weeks. I can’t take that away from you. Not yet. Besides, maybe the doctors will have more answers for me after the next appointment. It can wait a little longer.

I’ll tell you soon. I promise. Just not yet.

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anonymous asked:

What's one hypno fantasy you haven't been unable to indulge, but you'd like to?

I think a lot of my hypnosis fantasies revolve around me being a better subject than I am. (And yes- I’m apparently still in the bottom mode on my switch tonight.) I’d like to feel like I’m resisting and actually feel overcome. I’d like to hallucinate or have amnesia. I’d like to have someone who I really trust make a small but permanent alteration to my brain- kind of like in the movies when you can tell a character is brainwashed because they begin writing with their left hand instead of their right. A cognitive tattoo- “person x was here”.

I am very much in bottomy mode because I can’t think of a good toppy fantasy right now. My toppy fantasies tend to revolve more around reactions or facial expressions than actual actions. I still haven’t given someone ASMR reactions- I’ll go with that.

To Have A Home (Archie, Jughead)

Summary: Jughead gets sucked into his work pretty easily. Archie finds a way to snap him out of it. (I recently started watching Riverdale and I am hooked! I highly recommend it. Anyway, thanks to the anon that prompted this, and I hope y’all enjoy my first fic for this fandom!)

Living with Archie was nice.

Well, that was a bit of an understatement. For a writer, Jughead wasn’t always good with words. There were some things that words just couldn’t reach, and one of those things was how grateful he was. There had been no hesitation when Archie said, “Screw that, live with me.” And his offer had not changed or wavered since.

It was nice to not have to wake up at ungodly hours of the morning to prevent getting caught sleeping in a closet of the school building, and it was nice to be in a place that felt actually habitable and…welcoming. Mr. Andrews seemed delighted to have him there, and Archie even more so. Jughead never thought his presence could delight anyone.

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hello follower

yes, you

were you aware that i am writing a wolfstar/jily zombie au? no? i don’t blame you, i haven’t really mentioned it in months, but it just got updated today, and if it strikes your fancy, you can find it right here

(i would like to add that it is a very atypical zombie story, as i myself am not very into zombies as a whole, so it may be something you’re interested in, even if zombies aren’t usually your thing. /end shameless self-endorsement)

moving on, as a general announcement, to all my readers, old and new, you may have heard that i am trying to schedule chapter updates on a more consistent basis, as a means to not only get a hold on my WIPs, but also to get a hold on my life as a whole. (lol good luck, amirite?)

with that said, i have decided to try and update “everything’s connected” (found here, for you new folks) and “cogito ergo sum” on alternating sundays.

so today, i updated “cogito ergo sum.” next sunday will be “everything’s connected,” then “cogito ergo sum,” etc. 

that being said, “cogito ergo sum” takes considerably more effort on my part to write, just because the plot is more complex and the chapters are twice as long, so if my brain decides to do the thing, it may be easier to update “everything’s connected,” and so i reserve the right to fuck with this schedule at my own will.

i will try very hard to maintain this habit, and if for some reason i won’t have an update on time, i’ll send out a general notice beforehand.

that is all.

thank you for your time. i hope you see pretty stars tonight. 

deuces

COOL (LUKE HEMMINGS) Pt. 1

Inspired by Troye Sivan’s “COOL”

Word count: 3,349

Lights flash to the tempo of human eyes blinking here, constant and present even when no one realizes.

It’s paradise in these islands.  Curving beaches and curvy women.  There’s mansions made out of marble and pools in every backyard.  A cigarette hangs out of my mouth as I tread through the plaza, watching the pretty people jump into the water and lay in their sun chairs.  The breeze brushing off of the coast blows in my hair, and I exhale the smoke.

Ever since I stepped off the plane into this exotic getaway, I’ve been greeted with white smiles and firm handshakes.  Women bat their eyes and touch my arms, men either glare or grin to intimidate me.  Apparently it’s strange for a single rockstar to be traveling alone, however I am with someone almost every night.

Parties bounce along the pavilions after sun the goes down, and girls pounce on me like panthers.  I’m considered “a catch” in this place, after all, I have the St. Laurent fur coat and leather boots that everyone here seems to understand have some sort of significance.  The pretty people on the islands like their accessories, and what’s not to like?

They sit under the sun, sweating until they pass out on daiquiris, attempting to deepen their already too golden tans.  I see a child push another off of the flamingo floating in the pool, climbing on immediately after.  The father listens to his music on one phone, emails his coworkers and wife on another, and texts his lover on another.  Laughter pours stronger from the shaded cabanas the more drinks are poured into fancy glasses.  It makes me laugh, actually.

A hand yanks mine to turn around, and the grin on my face fades as I see her.  She has mascara running down her hollow cheeks, her acrylic nails dig into my wrist.  “How could you?” she yells at me, stomping in her tacky cheetah print pumps.  I hear the cameras flash from beyond the bushes.  This incident will surely make tomorrow’s headlines.

“You let me pay for your drinks, sleep with me, and then leave the next morning?  You sleazy, horrible, disgusting-”

“Don’t forget vile.”

She stares at me after my interruption of her rant, her green eyes burn holes in my brain.  I thought I would’ve gotten used to this look by now; the gaze of someone I had made feel vulnerable as they woke up in my bed, seeing me not lying beside them.  However, the smirk on my face remains as she twists up her nose and declares, “you’re such a dick.”

The girl whose name I can’t remember marches away, her hands balled into fists and the straps of her dress sliding off of her shoulders.  She looks like a mess, but it makes sense; I made her feel like one.

Whispers trail from behind the neatly-trimmed hedges, and the clicking of their cameras forces me to turn to the paparazzi, though I can’t see where their faces are exactly.  I shrug, take the burnt out cigarette in between my fingers, and crush it beneath my padded silver boots.  A smug grin never leaves my face.

As I pace away from the scene, I search for the key to my penthouse suite in my jean pockets.  My heart races in my chest, I can’t breathe.  Fame caught up to me before I could stop it, now I can never keep pace of my own tracks.  The money makes my life move too fast, the knowledge the world is watching makes me want to run faster.

I don’t understand how the pretty people on these islands wear such bright smiles.  It seems as though they are happy here, like their life is complete by dressing in their extravagant clothes, drinking their treasured alcohol, loving the other plastic people just like them.  While they laugh and dance at night they appear to be truly enjoying this lifestyle of parties, vacations, and cars.

A green light allows me access into my suite, and I push down hard on the handle and slam the door behind me.  I would go out on the balcony but I know the paparazzi can spot me so long as the sun can.  My lungs concave in my chest, and I slouch down the door, feeling my knees crumble.  

Trying to regain my cool exterior, my gaze falls on a small black tube on the floor, a foot away from the counter.  I assume it was the girl’s lipstick, as red as her skirt that my hands couldn’t stay off of or out from underneath.  There’s a   mirror across the entryway of the suite, and I stare in it, seeing myself from last night.  I was covered in that fire engine makeup, the feel of it smudging on my face and neck and chest, and the image makes my cheeks burn.  I see myself in that mirror, except hollow and vain.  

I decide it’s in my best interest to go to bed for a little while, and rest before I hit up the clubs later tonight, in search for someone else to fill the empty space beside me when I sleep, even though it’s only temporary.


“Mr. Hemmings, glad you could make it.” 

A man talks to me as I step into the carousel of prism-colored lightbulbs and swaying bodies, welcoming me with one of those denture smiles.  His grey hair offsets his black coat, and his eyes sink into his face as if the skin meshes with the skull itself.  I swallow hard, but smile nonetheless, shaking his hand with a, “glad to be here.”

Heads turn as I step into the crowd, batting eyes and dangerous glares.  Despite the episode this morning, it seems the girls either haven’t heard or don’t care to be another one of “Luke’s one-night-stands”.  One with sandy blonde hair starts to grind on my waist, her tight dress shows off curves that I didn’t know where anatomically possible for a woman to have.  My jaw clenches and I feel the urge to smirk, show off this hot chick who latched onto me within minutes of my arrival.  

What can I say?  The long hair, the barely-buttoned shirts, tight jeans and wallets full of cash; I can wear pretty boy well.  It’s my profession to be a womanizer, along with the music of course, and I can play the part.

Blondie dances with an urgency and roughness, as if she wants to make sure every other competitor in the club knows I’m hers, at least for tonight.  However much I would have been pleased with this fever rolling from her hips onto mine any other time, this occasion was different.  Green eyes burned holes in my brain this morning, and I can’t get them out of my head.  I am sick of staring into a set of eyes that hates me and thinks I’m another sick, foul man who’s only after sex.  Even though the tabloids and the cover stories write me as a player, I like to believe I’m a romantic at heart.  Tonight, I decide, to start acting like one.

I step away from the mess of people drinking too much and stumbling on their feet.  Blondie raises an eyebrow at me, rolls her eyes, then turns on her heels to the next guy.  My heart sinks at how replaceable I am to these women, and to most people in general.

Subtle ocean breezes whisper up into my hair, the sand separates with each footprint I leave behind.  It’s quieter here, I can actually hear myself think.  Laying down in the sand, an act I know will not be forgiving to my expensive silk shirt, I stare at the stars.  It reminds me of an old song I used to sing to thousands of girls who loved me for me, not my money and fame.  Humming the tune I close my eyes, trying to remember the feeling of relishing in popularity and climbing charts.

I can still taste the ocean, like it was today.

Critics have exploited every evil portion of my personality, and reading it over and over again in magazine articles and TV interviews, I suppose I started to accept my new cheap reputation instead of fight it.  Girls became currency, booze is the paycheck.  Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.  It’s all so typical, and I start to question when, exactly, did I become a scolded stereotype.

You said please keep on holding your hands, and the rain it came too soon.

“Hey, I know that song,” a girl says, the crunching of footsteps against the sand growing louder with each passing second.  I bolt to sit upright, embarrassed, and I look out to the sea as I ask, “you do?”

She sits near me, crossing her legs and staring out into the black waters likewise to my current position.  “Yeah.  Kind of old, but good.”  I nod in agreement, feeling myself blush at her compliment.  The way her voice lilts and fluctuates surges an emotion through my chest that I haven’t felt in a really long time, my breathing slows.

“5 Seconds of Summer,” she states, drawing figures in the sand with a delicate finger.  “I used to be pretty crazy about those guys.”  How open she is to practically a complete stranger causes me to laugh, and the fact that she is obviously unaware who she’s talking to in this moment.

“Don’t laugh!” Her sweet voice giggles, the sound eases my mind and repeats itself over and over.  With a smirk on my face, I ask, “Did you have a favorite member of the band?”

It takes a moment for her to respond, and I can tell she is flushed pink when she answers, “the lead singer, for sure.  I hear he’s a bit of a douche now though.”  

It strikes me in my ribcage, a painful twinge of regret and magenta streaks flash across my eyes as I blink.  Turning to face her, I swipe the hair out of my face, desiring to know the face of this girl who previously adored me, but now recognizes the ego-maniac I became.  

The darkness clouds my vision, but I can make out the shadows of her face.  My heart swells and where I should feel myself sinking I begin to float.  Expressions are hard to read on those angelic features of hers, but I notice her eyes begin to widen, her mouth parting.  She pulls her legs up to her chest, hugging them and apologizing, “oh my God I’m so sorry I swear I didn’t-”

“You’re right.” I shrug, biting my lip where my piercing used to hang out of my mouth.  A heavy silence fills between us, spare for the waves gliding against the shoreline.  We turn to face the sea again, lost in the blankness of it all for a few minutes.  Somehow, this stillness doesn’t feel awkward, but instead it’s comfortable.

A nudge on my shoulder causes me to face her again, shame beyond gravity forcing my features to drag down.  I see her lips tug into a reassuring smile, attempting to cheer me up as she suggests, “a real douche wouldn’t admit to being one.”  I laugh, a genuine one, and she follows suit.  God that adorable laugh of hers, I want it in my head like a broken record.

“So, rockstar,” she tilts her head to the side, “what brings you to the islands?”

“Sweet life living, I guess.”  I don’t know how to answer that question, my words felt like lies because this place is bitter and artificial.  “My managers said it would help me settle down and relax a bit.”

“Has it?”

The two words alone made me want to cackle in hysteria, claw my hair out, and drown in the ink that lies no more than twenty feet ahead of me.  “It’s paradise,” I reply calmly, gritting my teeth and digging my nails into the palm of my hand. For one reason or another, I don’t want to disappoint this girl.  Her spirit is magnetic.  She doesn’t say anything in return, so I direct the question to her.

I can see her bite her lip before she answers, “Oh you know, same as you.  Relaxing from that busy lifestyle.”  Looking at the ground, she etches circles in the sand, growing more forceful the more seconds pass lulling in the conversation.  I’m gazing at her, wishing my eyes could adjust to the night.  There’s something about only seeing the shadows of her eyelashes and lips that is driving me insane.  Not knowing whether I did it on accident or my mind is drunk on this torture of low visibility, my fingers brush against hers.  She continues to mindlessly scribble in between us, not looking up.

“What’s your name?”  The words fall out of my mouth before I think about it, my  eyes searching for hers.

“Y/N,” she discloses, speaking lowly as if she didn’t want someone to hear.  A witty glance meets my gaze, and she sneers, “I would ask you the same but I have a feeling I know your name already.”  I chuckle at her jest, and she buries her face in her hands.  “I can’t believe I just admitted that to you without even realizing that…I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”  I nudge her shoulder, grinning, “the first part was pretty cute.”

Y/N peeks up at me between the hair falling in her face, it’s inevitable that she’s blushing.  I hope she is, so at least I wouldn’t be the only one.  Lifting her confidence and her head, Y/N and I observe one another’s faces for a moment. I’m trying to determine whether or not someone can be so beautiful when they can hardly be seen at all.  My head is cloudy, my heart is beating faster with each fleeting moment.  I want to touch her, but I remain frozen, not wanting to disturb the calmness between us.

There’s so much I could say to her, and yet I can’t force my mouth to function properly.  My womanizer skills are being drained into the night, however I don’t feel the desire to summon them.  The few spots where our skin is touching is on fire, however her contact is not needed for my cheeks to burn.  It feels adolescent and pure, this sensation fluttering in my chest and coursing through my veins.  I recall the emotions but cannot name them, unfamiliar with the simplicity of liking someone solely for their voice and conversation, their figures and shadows.

She parts her lips and my heart is snatched out of my ribcage into my throat, dying to know what’s on that mind of hers.  I want to ask her a million things and discover every inch of her thoughts, reveal the darks and lights of her electric character.  I’d let the words and sentences turn to nothing, our voices would rise in the air as the sun would elevate across the skyline.  All she needs to do is say something, anything.

“I think,” she whispers, “that I need to go.”

A collision of the galaxy resting overhead erupts in my lungs, the stardust is choking me.  My jaw goes slack, breathing heavy, and I can’t move.  Y/N stands up, her figure looks like an angel in the dark, my eyes examining every inch.  Something in her thoughts causes her to hesitate, and I pray she’ll change her mind, sit down with me.  Holding my breath as she turns away, I lurch forward, my heart propelling me to chase after her, my conscious repressing me in the sand.

In a matter of heartbeats, she’s gone.  I can hear her laugh in my head, swimming circles in my pool of thoughts and it seems every other now-unimportant memory is drowning out.  No matter how much I replay my new favorite song in my head, it’s no comparison to hearing her sing it in person.

Straying up the beach towards the storm of strobe lighting, I see the pretty people dancing and sliding on one another’s bodies, drenched in hard liquor and sweat.  From my gaze, I cannot see Y/N in the mess of swaying hips and crashing lips, and some part of me feels alleviated to know she isn’t caught up in the party-scene.  She’s too pure for the cruelties of competing men and women, I’d never want her neon spirit to fade.

Side-eyes and confused stares follow my figure, alone, up to the pathway towards my suite.  Blondie pulls away from her new-man for a slight second before being hustled to the beat once more, the fake-tanned behemoth she called a replacement surely whispering dirty things in her ear to entice her.  Normally the contest to see who could land the hottest girl and eventually become the most drunk for the evening would lure me in, however tonight I find myself humming as my silver boots walk down the stone street.

Camera crews follow me up to my door, asking about who the lucky lady is tonight.  They prod and poke at me until I finally give in, turning around and answering, “I think I’m pretty lucky.”  Grinning as I step into the suite, I shut the door behind me, hearing the chatter of paparazzi fighting over who would publish their article first.

I wash my face in the bathroom sink, staring at the reflection of a hollowed man.  The idea Y/N had of me now as a person was disgracefully true, and how she used to view me as someone she idolized.  Me, the person she formerly adored, now washed up and clinging onto every sense of relief from the painful reality that I’m not in the limelight for musicality and heart anymore.  It sickens every fiber of my being, and I grip the sides of the countertop, closing my eyes to allay myself from facing who I’ve aged into any longer.

For the first night in so many months, I climb into bed alone.  There’s no one to fill the space beside me, no pretty head to peacefully sleep beside me into the morning hours, when I’d be out the door in a flash.  This fear of mine of remaining forlorn and abandoned mangles my chest, ripping a hole in my heart.  I grip the sheets as I pull them over top of me, knowing without looking that my knuckles are white.

The waves dance along the shoreline only a quarter mile away from my cottage, taking me back to lying in the sand with the stars above my head.  I hear Y/N’s voice in my head, envision her shadows and linear structure.  This vacation was designed to wrangle me down to earth, and yet her etherealness has me floating towards the stars.  Seeing her again is the only thing I’m wishing for tonight, and I’m determined to prove to at least one decent person that I am not, as she put it, a douche.  Y/N’s the only decent person on this island, and I hardly even know her.  

My heart skips a beat simply saying her name in my head.  I whisper it aloud, liking how it rolls off my tongue so easily, similar to all conversations with her.  The syllables taste so sweet, I can only imagine the music her voice would produce if she said my name.  Affection drenches my mind, leaving it soapy and desiring to talk to Y/N all the time.  From how completely astonishing her figure was, I can’t begin to create the image of her beauty in the daylight.  She’d send me into cardiac arrest with one of those witty glances.  

Old emotions that feel so familiar surge into my heart, and I blush, praying to get a second chance at what I have been searching so long to find.  Whatever Y/N’s true impression of me may be now, I decide it necessary to guide her back to that place where she saw my honest self, no matter the cost.

I will wait for you to love me again.

Salon

job au prompt:  ‘rumor has it that you’re a hairdresser with magic fingers and you can fix any bad hair day so that’s why I’m here’ 

You couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself. Life as of late had become a blur of long meetings, endless stacks of paperwork and with it came an insatiable caffeine addiction. So when you strolled past a familiar salon your coworkers had been endlessly praising you didn’t hesitate to enter the establishment.

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  • me, at work: HELL YEAH, WHEN I GET HOME I'LL BE SO PRODUCTIVE! I'LL WRITE MORE SCENES FOR MY WIP! I'M GONNA REVISE AND POST MY FINISHED FIC!
  • me, at home, at 9h30PM, buried deep in three blankets: .....i....just...wanna sleep........so exhausted....why can't i sleep...........
Jinyoung Imagine - Studio

A/N - I wrote this at like 1 in the morning, hoping and praying something like this would happen to me…at least in a dream 😂 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and continue to send in your requests!

You walked into the studio, heading straight for the recording booth your boyfriend was working in. Jinyoung had called you at one in the morning desperate for some inspiration for his lyrics. You hadn’t been able to sleep so happily drove to go and see him. You hadn’t gotten changed or anything for meeting him so you were still wearing one of his jumpers that you stole with a pair of your favourite shorts. When you arrived at the recording booth and walked in, you saw Jinyoung had drifted off to sleep with his head in his hands, a look of frustration still painted on his face. The sound of the door closing behind you made him jump but his expression changed as soon as he saw you. 

“(Y/N), I’m so happy you came,” he said, getting up to hug you tightly. Jinyoung kissed your cheek before pulling away and guiding you towards the table he had been sat at previously. Pieces of paper with lyrics scribbled on them covered it and there was a pile of crumpled pieces that had begun to overflow onto the floor. You glanced over some of the lyrics, reading some that sounded amazing and others that were..a little less than amazing to say the least. 
“I just can’t put the words together for this one. Jaebum hyung asked me to write some lyrics for this music he composed before we worked together on it but I just can’t create anything good.” 
“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked, wanting to relieve Jinyoung of the stress he was feeling. 
“Maybe. Usually I just have to look at you and inspiration comes flooding through my mind but my brain just isn’t working tonight.”
“Play me the song and I can try to think of something to inspire you.” Jinyoung nodded in response and gave you a set of headphones before pressing a few buttons and playing the music JB had composed.

An R&B style song played through the headphones and immediately you felt the vibe of the song that JB had been going for. The song was sexy and very much the opposite of the songs Jinyoung had previously written lyrics for. You sat there and tried to think of ways to spark something within your boyfriend that would have him writing lyrics that were sexy enough to accompany such a song. You removed the headphones and placed them down, standing up to move closer to Jinyoung. 
“I know why you can’t get the right lyrics for this, Jinyoungie. You need to feel the mood of the song to get the ideas flowing.”
“And how do you suggest I do that?” He asked, pure desire filling his teasing words. 
“Well, I’m sure you can work out for yourself what I want you to do,” you replied, smirking at him. 

Jinyoung’s lips crashed onto yours in a passionate frenzy. He wanted and needed you right there. His hands explored all over your body while yours were tangled in his dark hair. The tension that had built in the room was now filling you both up and the two of you just let it consume you right there in that recording studio. Your hands moved to hurriedly remove his shirt while his were working on removing your clothes. It was when you were sat there, straddling Jinyoung only wearing a pair of laced underwear that inspiration came flooding through him. His heart was pounding even before you had started to give him attention in the one place he wanted it most. The surge of emotions coursing through him gave him ideas for lyrics for the song he was writing with JB but also for another song, he had planned for you. One that would be far more intimate.