i knew it wouldn't

anonymous asked:

OMG! I really loved "Snap decision" ASDFGHJLJAHUSHABZY I L O V E D I T. It would be awesome if you make a second part, idk, maybe y/n and Jiminie exchange numbers and keep in contact and then become fuck buddies. If it's possible. I love your writting skills. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS (and all) FICS you've made. (btw I've had read all of them) ily <3

I so glad you that you liked it so much!!  

Technically, she has his number already.  And I suppose he could have copied her number when he had her phone in his hand… But no – my intention was never to write a part two.

Here’s the thing… Every story I write, I begin with a complete background on every character and that is the thing that will drive their behavior as I write.  So I have way more information on both the OC & Jimin than what is shared in the story itself – where they live, how their jobs function, what their home lives are like, etc…   And in this particular story, as I have designed these characters, a second meeting is extremely unlikely, logistically difficult, a fuck buddy relationship doesn’t really suit the OC, Jimin has plenty of other options available to him so he doesn’t need to add a fuck buddy to his current roster, and while Jimin was the perfect guy for that one night, he wouldn’t seem like such a great catch upon repeated interactions.

I personally think it’s best to leave it as a pleasant memory for our OC and allow her to use her renewed confidence to find a man who will better suit her for the long term.

Hello yes my heart is ready to be taken

anonymous asked:

VICTUURI AND OTAYURI AT PRIDE WOULD KILL ME BC I LOVE YOUR HEADCANONS

(This is also for all the people requesting Otabek with his hair down)

  • what she says: I'm okay
  • what she means: Can I say my shit? Can I say my shit? I've got lots of shit to say. I've got lots of shit to say. I can't fit my hand inside a Pringle can, I have a huge amount of trouble fitting my hand inside of a Pringle can. I can get my hand like four inches into the can but then I have to tilt the can into my mouth but then a bunch of crumbs have accumulated at the bottom of the can so they all go spilling onto my face. What I'm trying to say is the diameter of Pringle cans is way too small. I'll say it again. The diameter of Pringle cans is way too small. Two radiuses of a Pringle can is way too small. If you feel me, put your hands up, Come on! If you feel me, put your hands up! Look at all these hands that are way too big to fit inside of a Pringle can! Your hands are too big to fit inside a Pringle can, your hands are too big to fit inside a Pringle can. You think you can, I know you can't, you think you can. Pringles! Listen to the people, I am sure ninety percent of the complaint letters you get are about the width of your cans?! Just... make them wider?! I've overdone the Pringles thing, sorry. I want to have a daughter. I want to have a daughter so I can finally have someone around the house who can fit their hands in the Pringle can. Yes, I'm still on the Pringle cans thing! Yeah! I'll move on, alright? But that is priority número uno. I don't go to the gym because I'm self-conscious about my body but I'm self-conscious about my body cause I don't go to the gym. Irony can be so painful. That's a Catch-22. Let's do this! I went to Chipotle, I went to Chipotle, got myself a chicken burrito. I went down the line and I got all these ingredients and at the end of the line the guy tried to wrap the burrito but half of the shit inside the burrito spilled out. He still wrapped it. I was like, dude you should have warned me! You're a burrito expert, you should have told me halfway through: "Hey, man. You might be reaching maximum burrito capacity here" Do you fucking think I want a messy burrito? No one wants a messy burrito! The whole appeal of the burrito is that all of the ingredients are contained within the confines of the tortilla. I wouldn't have gotten half of the shit if I knew it wasn't gonna fit in the burrito! Alright? Look I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew it wouldn't fit! I wouldn't have got half of it! Like, I'm okay with small mistakes, if you've got no more chicken I'll take pork. But I'll blow my dad before I eat a burrito with a fork. I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew they wouldn't fit. Man, I wouldn't have got half of it, like half of it, like, half of it, like, half of it, like half of it right now,I think it's time I think it's time, I think that we break this down. I can sit here and pretend like my biggest problems are pringle cans, and burritos. The truth is, my biggest problem's you. I want to please you but I want to stay true to myself. I want to give you the night out that you deserve but I want to say what I think and not care what you think about it. Part of me loves you, part of me hates you, part of me needs you, part of me fears you. And I don't think that I can handle this right now, handle this right now. I don't think that I can handle this right now. I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now. Look at them, they're just staring at me like, "come and watch the skinny kid with a steadily declining mental health and laugh as he attempts to give you what he cannot give himself." I don't think that I can handle this right now, I don't think that I can handle this right now. They don't even know the half of this right now, they don't even know the half of it. But I know I'm not a doctor, I'm a pussy, I put on a silly show so I should probably just shut up and do my job so here I go. I wouldn't have got the lettuce if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the cheese if I knew it wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got the peppers if I knew they wouldn't fit, I wouldn't have got half. You can tell them anything if you just make it funny, make it rhyme and if they still don't understand you then you run it one more time. I don't think that I can handle this right now (Haa!) I don't think that I can handle this right now (Hoo!) If you think that I can handle this right now (Haa!) Right now (Haa!) Now, handle this right, handle this right, handle this right now.Thank you, good night! I hope you're happy.

drew something for a school project
can you tell my laziness;; I can’t draw males to save my life haha;;

monop-olly  asked:

Wait what happened with the gay uprising in your school???

Okay, story time.

My high school was a public school with only 3 people out of the closet. A couple of girls we all vaguely saw holding hands and kissing a few times but nobody knew them, and myself. 

When I started dating my girlfriend during my second year, I was pretty chill about it, I didn’t really care and her either, so we just did what every other couples did. She was still very private in her own way so people didn’t come to her that much, but I had the reputation to be a little too chill about it all. After a week or so, every two days someone would come to me to tell me they were bi or gay, a lot of my own friends did. One of my dude friends even wanted to talk to me in private so badly, I thought he was gonna ask me out and I freaked out… I only stopped screaming “PLEASE NO” when he yelled “I DON’T WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU, I AM GAY TOO YOU DUMBASS” at me. All those people ended up befriending each other so in the end, we were a group of approximately 40 friends, with only like 5 totally straight people among us.

Our group of friends was very large so we were rarely all together, but when we were, well, we were kinda noticeable. So the other students started noticing too how girls and boys were holding hands and kissing, so other people started coming out in other groups and asked me about coming out stuff too. And it went on and on for a year. We started at 3 queer people and at the end of the year, the private High School of the same city was calling us The Gay High School.

Long story short, I was gay Moses in my second year of High School.

So many amazing things happening in this chapter and all I come away with is that given Komi’s shoulder width I was right and he’s The Buff™

the-word-weaver-of-the-faeries  asked:

“let’s keep this between the two of us.” Azriel and Feyre?

“Let’s keep this between the two of us, okay?” Feyre mutters to Az as he slips, unobtrusively into her bedchamber and she jumps to her feet, hurrying to meet him. 

The shadowsinger just nods, ever dutiful to his High Lady’s every wish. 

“No-one saw you come up here, did they?” she can’t help herself asking anxiously, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting Rhys to burst through the door at any moment and catch them together. 

Azriel just gives her a flat look that implies he’s insulted she would even ask such a thing of him. Perks of being a super spy, she supposes. 

“Alright, I’m ready,” she says, holding out a hand in invitation. Azriel grips it tightly and they winnow into shadow and darkness. They emerge moments later onto the pleasantly warm Velaris streets, pleasantly bustling but not overly crowded, something neither of them would have appreciated. 

They set off together, Azriel quietly leading the way while Feyre follows, smiling and nodding at some of the people they pass who wave greetings to her. “Thanks so much for this, Az,” she puffs out, checking her bag to ensure she brought her purse with her. She doesn’t usually, typically relying on the convenient credit she has in most stores, but she doesn’t want Rhys to have any inclination of her purchase today. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“It’s no trouble,” he says, leading them down into a quiet, shaded street and walking to the very end, a small store tucked into the corner. “I live to serve at the  High Lady’s pleasure.” She squints up at him, one eyebrow raised, and he smirks. “And entertaining as his last birthday was, I understand it’s not an experience you want to repeat.” 

“No,” Feyre groans, burying her face in a hand at the shame of it. She has many talents and she loves her mate dearly, as Azriel knows,  but gift buying has never been her strong-suit. And the bastard has a habit of finding exactly what she wants every single year without fail. Just once she wants to get him something absolutely perfect. Fortunately, she has a secret weapon in the form of Azriel. 

“Really though,” she grumbles, pushing into the shop after him, “Who’s allergic to strawberries?”  

“Rhys,” Azriel hums simply in that way that implies he knows everything in the world and that nothing could ever surprise him. 

Well, he had been surprised last year when Rhys had taken a large bite from one of the chocolates she had delightedly given him and then promptly started choking. The shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting that. Unfortunately neither had she. 

“And Keir,” he adds as an apparently innocent afterthought. 

Feyre blinks, startled, looking round at him. She supposes it’s not too odd, Keir and Rhys are related, even distantly. Still, “I suspect that comes from the list you have tucked away somewhere that details every known method of killing that bastard; not a concern for the steward’s meal choices?” She muses lightly. That tugs a small, dark smirk out of Az. 

Azriel leads her to the back of the shop then stops in front of one of the small, dusty glass-fronted cabinets to let her see what he’s picked out for her. She opens her mouth to point out that the display is stuffed full of items, she isn’t sure which one he means, but she stops when she sees it, her face lighting up in a smile. Hugging a rather startled Az she whispers, “It’s perfect.” And is relieved when he accepts the hug, smiling, patting her rather awkwardly on the shoulder to convey his acceptance of her gratitude. 

Once Feyre has made her purchase and had it carefully wrapped up by the owner, who seems friendly with Azriel, well, as friendly as anyone can be with him, the two wander back out onto the streets of Velaris. Feyre insists on dragging him into a nearby shop and pressing a large amount of fine differently coloured balls of wool into Az’s protesting hands and then further insists on taking him for a quiet cup of tea. 

She rarely spends time alone with the shadowsinger, he always seems to be out somewhere on some secret mission sometimes she doubts even Rhys knows about. That or closeted up in his room with Mor, enjoying the time he has with her. Usually she only has conversations with him like this when they all go to Rita’s and neither of them feel much like dancing for an hour or so. 

It’s nice, though. Azriel has a quiet, oddly calming presence, even with the shadows darting around him, whispering, always whispering. There’s a comfort to being around him, a sense of safety, and an odd feeling that she could tell him anything and he would simply nod and understand. As a result, Az is the one she’s gone to more times than she can count when she’s had a difficult decision about the court to make that she doesn’t want to put on her mate. He inevitably listens to all she has to say and offers a few quiet insights that help her make up her mind. She values his opinion, and his friendship, more highly than she thinks he’ll ever know. 

Not longer after they’ve sat down in a comfortable booth by the window, they’re both brought two teas and slices of cake that she hadn’t ordered, but that she suspects Azriel did, given that they’re both topped with liberal amounts of strawberries and that their arrival prompts a rare, mischievous smile to blossom across his lips. 

Feyre nibbles at her cake then decides now is as good a time as any to bring up what she wants to, as well as have her revenge for this little dig about the strawberries. Looking slyly at Az over the rim of her cup she says innocently, “I’m sorry to take you away from Mor, I know you just got back, you must have been wanting to spend some time with her.” 

Azriel just blinks at her, saying nothing, as he drops a lump of sugar into his tea. Then another. Then another. She’s discovered, from these little retreats they make to this place from time to time when they both need a little peace and quiet, that he takes an inordinate amount of sugar in his tea. He had confessed to her once, with a small smile, that it was his one and only weakness. 

Finally, carefully, too carefully, Azriel says, “I’ll have plenty of time to brief Mor, later.” Yes, brief her, amongst other things. 

“Mm,” Feyre muses, taking a small sip of tea, “Wouldn’t you rather have spent the morning with her than me?” 

Azriel blinks, apparently genuinely bemused by this comment, “You’re my friend, Feyre,” he says quietly, sincerely, “I like spending time with both of you.” Damn. She really should leave the subtlety and intrigue up to Az as well as the gift choosing. And he’s too earnest and good-natured, there’s no fun in teasing him at all. 

“Azriel,” she says quietly, a soft smile tugging at her lips, “I know.” He blinks owlishly up at her again, clearly implying you know what? And she just scowls at him because if she doesn’t get to tease him then she’s not playing games with him either. 

A deep flush of colour burns into Az’s cheeks as he stares at her, “How?” he rasps eventually and she smirks smugly at him. 

“You’re not the only one who can know other people’s secrets, Az,” she says with a grin, taking another pointed bite of the strawberry cake, which really isn’t half bad. She might have to bring Rhys here at some point, then she might have half a chance of finishing a dessert on her own without the High Lord’s spoon magically making its way over to her plate while he twitters about ‘mating bond equality’ and ‘what’s yours is mine, Feyre darling’. 

Azriel’s face darkens at that and a low, protective growl rumbles in his chest, “Who told you?” he demands, hands curling into fists. 

She starts in surprise at the sudden black venom in his voice and opens her mouth to say something when Azriel freezes, apparently realising how he’d reacted. The blush on his cheeks darkens and his wings twitch, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, and she has her suspicions that he and Mor haven’t been together for long confirmed, based on his response. 

“It’s alright, I understand,” she says quietly, and she does. That need to protect, to keep her safe must be heightened for the two of them after the amount of time they spent apart. She smiles, “And no-one told me, Az,” she huffs, a faint hint of playful scolding in her tone, “I can find some things out without the help of you and your spies, you know, I’m not blind.” 

“Says the woman who didn’t notice for nearly fifty years that her mate is allergic to strawberries,” Az mumbles into his tea, but she notes the playful spark in his eyes and resists the urge to kick him under the table with difficulty.

Instead she reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m happy for you, Azriel. For both of you. You deserve this,” she gives his hand a soft squeeze and finally manages to coax a faint smile from him.  “But why-” 

“Didn’t we tell anyone?” Azriel supplies for her. She supposes he has to find some way to claw back his composure, the best way he knows how, making sure he knows everything she does. Mostly. She nods. He shifts uncomfortably, wings rustling in agitation at his back as he shrugs. “We would have, when we were ready,” he says quietly. “We’re just…Not.” She’s never seen him so discomposed before, he’s usually the picture of articulate eloquence. But Mor…She does this to him. “Not yet, Feyre, please-” 

She gives his hand another quick squeeze, smiling, “I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone, Az, I promise.” He smiles, nodding his head, and thanks her. 

They finish their tea and cake and then Feyre winnows him to Mor’s townhouse before returning herself to the House of Wind to finish up her preparations for Rhys’ birthday. 

The next day, her mate is delighted by the delicate ornament of crystal Illyrian wings she gives him, after having spent all of the day before painting them, accenting the details until they’re a near perfect replica of her mate’s own. 

Feyre notes the way Azriel’s scarred, gentle hand slides around Mor’s waist, squeezing, drawing her in close, just for a moment while no-one else is watching….But misses the way Rhys raises his glass of wine in Azriel’s direction while she’s chatting to Mor, thanking his brother for picking out the gift. Az nods and smiles. The two of them are content to keep this particular secret between themselves for the rest of their long eternities. 

I’m still not over the fact that Kat bought an 11k first class plane ticket just to make sure Adena was okay, let Adena know they were in this together, asked her out on a date, was super adorable and excited about the date, held hands literally nonstop, took her to the first class lounge, built her a pillow fort, got her food for her, and then finger banged her on a mezzanine until she came i’m so alive