i need my nails to look like this

I told a potential my fee & he laughed !!!!!

LI-TER-FUCKIN-LY ! Y’all this man responded, “Lol”.

Now, this is where a lot of sugar babies make an mistake. They allow this mans mockery of how much it cost to support their needs/wants sting, they allow themselves to become vulnerable to manipulative and cheap men

I simply explained to him in the most polite and bitchy tone ever (because ladies sometimes sugar may just in look like salt), “The outfits that you so politely complimented and admired, the makeup, the hair, nails, smooth legs, they all cost. So to maintain your desired image and my lifestyle that you wish to be included in (since you messaged me) you have to support me. In exchange for your support, I shower you in attention, affection, make men envious of you, and offer you an introduction to a diverse culture. I thought that was the kind of man you were, and the interest you had in mind. However I apologize that you cant afford me and my lifestyle and I wish you the best of luck!

See what I did there, “your desired image, make men envious of you, thought that was the kind of man you were, you cant afford me”. Subliminally bruising his ego. Sooo just to try and prove how much of a man he is, now he’ll be competitive, hungry to try prove me wrong. Which he was and immediately he began to retract his statement, and accept my offers. :) people just really want what they cant have…well cant afford.

& since he was acting all funny I will neeed my cash in hand before anythannnng.

This, ladies, is why you shouldn’t lowball yourselves

A Cinderella Story | 01

Min Yoongi | Fluff | Comedy | Smut | ACS!au | Fratboy!Yoongi | 

word count: 10k+

warnings: cumplay, mutual masturbation, phone sex, tribute, explicit language

❝ Your infatuation with Min Yoongi has to be what is the most exhausting part of your life, and in an attempt to help you get over him your friends convince you to join an online adult chat room. Unbeknownst to you the online freak you’ve been sexting for the better half of a year is your childhood crush. Just how much worst could this situation get? One fated night, a confession gone wrong and a lost phone with an almost laughable amount of nudes on it will tell all.  ❞


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My dear trans daughters, 

If you are trying out make-up, “feminine” clothes etc. for the first time, i want to tell you some things: 

1. First of all… *big mommy bear hug*! I’m so proud of you! This is a big step and it’s very exciting! 

2. You are likely excited, too - but you may also be nervous or even scared. Please know that those feelings are completely normal. They’re not a sign that you’re “faking it”. Trust me when i tell you that almost all of your trans sisters felt the same way. You’re not alone, darling. 

3. Nobody is born a makeup artist. Every girl - cis or trans - needs to practice how to put on mascara or lipstick without ending up looking like a horror clown. The only difference is that cis girls usually get taught how to at a young age. It’s not your failure that nobody taught you! So, what if you tried it and it looked awful? Don’t stress. You’ll get the hang of it eventually. It’s normal that it takes practice and time. 

4. The good thing about not being the only one? There were others before you who were in the same situation - and shared what they learned! There are tutorials on youtube, tumblr posts, websites etc. Don’t be afraid to use them. 

5. It’s okay to take baby steps. You don’t need to try it all at once. Maybe putting on nail polish, mascara and a dress today feels overwhelming - but just putting on clear nail polish sounds much less scary! There’s nothing wrong with slowly working your way up to the look you dream off. 

6. You don’t need to do anything. You tried lipstick and you don’t like it? That’s okay! You don’t need to wear lipstick to be a real woman. You don’t enjoy wearing skirts? Many girls prefer pants, don’t worry! 

7. Have i already told you how amazing you are? 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

this book is cute and I’ve had it since I was a kid but upon further looking, her feet have like….uncanny palms drawn like human metacarpals. i dont think i’ve seen another case like this exactly, but misunderstanding bird feet is not uncommon

judging on surface value, using comparative anatomy it’s easy to come to the conclusion that birds could have a rather similar structure as mammals (pardon my flaked off nail polish)

but of course birds are birds therefore they need to be needlessly complicated. what you are really seeing in those specimens and the scaled part of a bird’s legs are essentially just the bones we have as our wrist and hand (well, more specifically ankle and foot because hind limb)


and of course birds can’t stop there, we need an assortment of weird toe arrangements too

DIY: the CURSE A BITCH edition

So yeah, follow up to this post.

You’ll need:
• polymer clay
• nails
• paints and brushes
• a jar
• a taglock
• salt
• black pepper
• tabasco
• vinegar (the clear kind you use for cleaning)
• dirt
• gutter water
• candles

First I salted all my windowsills and my doorstep with salt to make protect my house. To make sure the bitch wouldn’t be able to counteract, I created a home guardian who acts as a “bouncer” of sort.

Then I made a small poppet out of clay. I tried to make it look as much like the bitch as I could at that scale. Then I drove nails into her, telling her each time why she was being stabbed. “This one is for when you made fun of coworker S”, “this one is for when you bullied coworker B”, “this one is for when you took pictures of me”, etc… I finished by driving a nail in her mouth “that’s to teach you to stop spreading gossips and lies”

I made her look anguished and in pain because that’s why I want for her. Then I baked the poppet, leaving the nails in. I roughly painted it afterward.

Once it was dried, I glued her inside the jar. My taglock this time was a note she wrote me. Her name was even on it, so that was good. I put it inside the jar and lit it up. Watching the flames lick her frame was cathartic.

Once it was done burning, I covered the ashes with salt to ward off her influence and irritate her. Then I ground some black pepper and poured it along some tabasco on her, to burn her. Then I went outside and scraped some dust and hair and dead bugs from the ground and poured it on her, so her reputation gets as dirty as she tried to make mine.

Ew, gross.

I added nails to the mixture so that every time I shake the jar, she’s hit by the weight of what she’s done.

Then I filled it to two third with vinegar. At first I wanted to use the cooking kind, but in the end, the cleaning kind made more sense. I mean, she’s a huge disgusting stain on the surface of earth, so… I topped it off with some gutter water because that’s where she belong, and spat in it three times, thinking about all the crap she had done to me and the others.

Once I was done, I just sealed it with wax and placed it in a dark place where it never sees the light of day.

I poured some salt and pepper on top of it, hence the grains. The color is a lot grosser irl, haha.

Anyway, there you go: how to curse a bitch.

2

this is actually so nice?? they’re just welcoming the change as it comes, changing their thoughts and perspective of someone so rapidly and fluidly. 

i appreciate this moment. it’s really the mark of a new beginning for historia.

Why Did  You Fail Me? ~Freaky February~ (D.W)

Prompt: I like reviving my old stories! I have a ton more. Here is the one before.

Pairing: Teach!Dean x Student!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning: Age gap

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World’s Best Dad (Part 2)

Originally posted by hugwinchester

Summary: The reader heads to the Winchesters for her date with Dean…

World’s Best Dad Masterlist

Pairing: single parent!Dean x kindergarten teacher!reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Gah, daddy!Dean is too cute…


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the kinky stuff // completed version (stiles one shot)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski asks you to dominate him in bed. What, are you just not going to ride his face?

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Rating: Mature for heavy swearing, graphic sexual description

A/N: This contains part one of the kinky stuff (or where stiles wants y/n to dominate him).

Originally posted by 40daddyskitten

“You’re all mine, pet.”

Stiles whimpered as I rasped into his ear. I never thought I’d get so much satisfaction out of blindfolding my boyfriend, handcuffing him to a chair, and reducing him to incoherent begging. But this was all his idea.

When Stiles had so casually suggested over pizza that we spice up our sex life, I was caught off guard—and a little offended. Did he think I was too boring? Too… vanilla? Stiles was the only one I’d ever been with and up until that conversation, I assumed he was just as satisfied as I was with our usual routine. After fumbling apologies, he explained that that was precisely the problem. Routine. Predictability. Formula.

So that’s how he wound up taking me to his closet and showing me the handcuffs he’d stolen from his dad last summer and asked me to dominate him.

Things were awkward at first to say the least, but I think I surprised both of us with how proficient I was at… the kinky stuff.

Stiles panted, “I’m all yours, only yours. Please, baby…”

Without warning, I fisted his hair and sharply tugged his head back.

“What was that, pet? Did we forget something?” I taunted. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down the elegance of his outstretched neck as he gulped.

“Ma’am, sorry—I meant ma’am,” he stuttered.

“Good boy,” I cooed, lining kisses up the column of his throat.

“Only for you,” he breathed, gasping when I bit down on his bottom lip and gently tugged.

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” I praised. I tried not to revert back to my normal self, who would typically swoon at Stiles’ compliments. I tried to remember that I needed to stay in character. For Stiles. This was his fantasy and I was here to make his dreams come true.

With that in mind, I begrudgingly pulled away. His bottom lip jutted outwards in a pout as he stomped his foot in retaliation.

“Look at you, pet.” I slowly circled Stiles, the clicking of my heels communicating my location. “Do you know how beautiful you are right now? With your hair all in disarray, your mouth so red and open like that…”

I came up behind Stiles and slowly ran my palms down his chest. My nails scratched his nipples on my way down and he gasped. Stiles turned so that his cheek nuzzled against my arm.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

I smiled; he sounded so small and vulnerable beneath me, like he was clinging to every word, every touch.  

“Of course, pet,” I replied softly. “You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it.”

Stepping in front of him, I untied Stiles’ blindfold and pried it loose. I almost sighed in relief when he finally blinked his eyes open and I encountered his warm, brown irises.

“Welcome back, pet. How’s the view?”

“[y/n]…” Stiles gave me a once over. I flushed red as he took in my outfit, his eyes going wide. I stood in front of him only in a pair of matching black bra and panties. He helplessly struggled against the cuffs, his shoulders spasming away from the chair.

“Please, let me touch you,” Stiles pleaded. “I need to touch you.”

“Now, now, let’s not get impatient,” I teased.

I took him in. He was even more beautiful up close. This might be my new favorite Stiles, with his cheeks dusted red, sweat matting his hair to his forehead, veins straining against his neck because it’s all he can do to not to explode as my hands trailed up his thighs.

Bracing myself on his shoulders, I descended onto his lap. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Stiles? How hard it is to control myself around you? How wet you make me?”

“God, [y/n], you’re driving me crazy…”

“Good. Then you finally know how it feels.” I smirked. “But don’t worry, pet. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

“Fuck, [y/n]—touch me, please,” Stiles quietly pleaded. His words sparked fire inside me, heat rushed directly to my core. I involuntarily arched my hips against his crotch, grinding down on him. Stiles let out a throaty moan.

“Now, I know you can ask nicer than that.”

“Please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you, ma’am. I’ll do anything you want. I can’t take it anymore. Please,” Stiles begged. Sweat collected on his top lip as he spoke. The prominent bulge in his pants confirmed his pleas.

“Hmm, now was that so hard?” I rolled my hips once more against him, relishing in the way his erection hardened against my panties.

“Fucking hell, yes—God that feels so good. Just like that. Yes, anything. Please, I want to touch you.”  

I leaned forward and clamped my teeth down on the shell of his ear. Stiles buried his face into my shoulder and groaned.

“Patience, pet. All in good time,” I whispered. I pulled back momentarily, then closed my mouth over his lips. He wasted no time as he shoved his tongue into my mouth, grazing over my teeth. I responded immediately, unable to contain my moans at his urgency. I grabbed the sides of his face and mushed our lips harder together.

While Stiles was preoccupied with my mouth, I unbuckled his belt and snuck my hand into his pants, rubbing him over his boxers. He bucked his hips into my palm, causing me to gasp.

“Eager, are we?” I playfully mocked.

“You have no idea.”

I grinned down at him. “In a moment, I’m going to uncuff you. And when I do, you are not allowed to touch me unless I tell you to. You are not allowed to come until I tell you to. You are not allowed to do anything unless I tell you to. If you obey, you will be rewarded. If you don’t, you will be punished. Do we have an understanding, pet?”

Stiles bit his bottom lip and gazed up at me.

“Y-yes.”

I lovingly stroked his hair. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I smiled warmly at him. “Perfect.”

I made a show of reaching into my bra, pulling out a small metal key. As I stepped around to Stiles’ joined hands, I heard him exhale. I inserted the key into the lock and turned. As soon as I heard the small click!, Stiles pulled his arms forward and above, stretching and rowing. I merely stared at his back, captivated by the way his muscles moved under his skin, ebbing and flowing with his movements.

Passively, I wondered if Stiles would continue to comply as earnestly with my demands.

“Alright, remember what I said,” I warned as I stepped around. I used his shoulders as leverage and leaned down low in front of him. “You’ll do exactly as I say, right?”

Stiles nodded this time as he blatantly stared at my cleavage, smirking as he rubbed his wrist. I couldn’t help but blush, feeling some of my authority slip away. He continued to silently watch me, his knees spread open in a wide stance.

I shot up and crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly insecure. I cocked my head to the side.

“What the hell are you staring at?”

“Sorry, you’re just so goddamn beautiful.” Stiles leaned forward, his hand reaching forward as he brushed his fingertips against my mid thigh.

I swiftly slapped the back of his hand, the resounding smack! reverberating through the room. I smirked at Stiles’s shocked expression and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up.

“Stiles?” I said sweetly.

“Yeah?”

“What did I say about touching me?”

“Said not to,” he mumbled.

“Good. Try something like that again, and I’ll make you regret ever suggesting this. Now, take off your clothes.”  

Stiles faltered slightly, then recovered almost immediately as he stood up and cooperated. He maintained eye contact the whole time as he kicked off his shoes and socks. He pulled his belt loose and shoved his pants down, standing completely naked before me with his arms crossed over his chest, mirroring my stance.

He quirked an eyebrow, like he was challenging me to make my next move. I kept my head high, refusing to cower away.

“Right,” I began confidently.” “Go lay down.”

I motioned dismissively towards the bed.

He nodded and obeyed. I trailed behind him, not too subtly checking out his ass. I stopped at the foot of the bed, pausing to admire the sight before me. Stiles had chosen to lay down completely flat with his legs crossed and his hands joined together behind his head. He had that same smirk adorning his expression, that familiar air of arrogance he knew would turn me on.

I stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at him.

“We had a little bit of a slip up, but you’ve been good aside from that. I think you deserve a reward now, don’t you?” I tapped my chin, pretending to consider something.

“Yes, m…“ Stiles trailed off as I began to crawl over him. When I continued past his waist, his breath hitched. “Fuck. Fuck.

Biting my lip, I stifled a string of nervous laughter as I came up to straddle his head, one knee on either side of his face. I reached down to stroke his hair and looked directly into the pair of amber eyes that peeked out from between my thighs.

“Can we try something new, pet?”

Stiles nodded fervently.

I shivered as his warm, frantic breaths fanned over my wet core.

“I—“ I was cut off by my own giggle as I pondered the absurdity of my next statement. “I was wondering if I could ride your face.”

Without even replying, Stiles set into action. He didn’t even close his eyes as he pulled me all the way down and placed a kiss right on my panty-clad sex.

“Stiles!” I yelped. I gripped his headboard to keep from crushing him as my knees gave out.

He cheekily winked at my reaction before shoving my underwear aside and leaning forward to run his tongue over the entire expanse of my bare slit. He clasped my thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. In turn, they clamped tighter around his head as my back concaved inward, unable to handle his sudden lapping against my sensitivity.  

“Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I do that?” Stiles urged.

“Yeah that-ah! That, that’s good. Like that,” I stuttered out, too enraptured to correct his use of pet name.

“I want to make you feel good. I’m gonna make this so good for you, baby. You’re gonna come so hard.”

“God, Stiles…” I moaned as Stiles continued to mutter some of the filthiest things he’s ever said. He punctuated his promises by sucking furiously on my overly-stimulated bundle of nerves.

“Fuck!” I cried out when he suddenly grazed his teeth around my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he proceeded to tug on it and rapidly flicked his tongue against it, effectively turning my legs into jelly.

I nearly keeled over when Stiles slipped in two fingers without warning. I gripped to the headboard for dear life as Stiles edged me towards climax.

“Shit, Stiles. I can’t, I’m gonna, I’m—“ My brain shut down as my orgasm took over. I reached down and tugged on Stiles’s hair, burying his face deeper inside me. As my mind turned to mush, I rode out my orgasm on his face, just like I said I would.

I’d never felt dirtier or sexier as Stiles lapped up my dripping slit, his hands grasping my ass so tight.

My vision felt slightly foggy to match the state of my thoughts. I squeaked when Stiles started kissing the quivering flesh of my inner thigh, breaking me out of my post-orgasm haze. I was still giddy as fuck as I collapsed on the bed beside Stiles.

“Woah… fuck. Are you okay, Stiles? Did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine, I’m fine but—how did I do? Was that good? Did I do a good job?” Stiles rambled. Looking over, Stiles was gazing at me starry-eyed, his cheeks flushed and wet, mouth swollen and pink. I nearly came again at the satisfaction of knowing that I did that to him. Because he’d asked me to.

“You did amazing, pet,” I panted. “What about me? With the whole… domination… thing.”

“Baby, that was the hottest thing I have ever experienced. You were fucking fantastic. We’re doing this again,” Stiles stated matter-of-factly.

I felt heat spread across my chest and up my neck. I leaned over and kissed him roughly and I could smell myself on his face and taste myself on his tongue and the paradox of it all was a bit overwhelming, that he could do so many dirty things to me and still be so innocent and he made me feel so free but I knew I was tethered, so wholeheartedly anchored to this boy.

I pulled back and pecked his nose, which he crinkled in response. I giggled at his expression. “God, stop being so cute all the time.”

Stiles smiled shyly and ducked his head.

“You first.”

I snorted and extended my arm towards him.

“C’mere.”

Stiles snuggled into my embrace, nuzzling his face cozily into my chest. I ran my fingers through his scalp, mumbled sweet nothings into his hair. “I’m actually going to love you forever. You know that, right?”

Stiles looked up and frowned at me before leaning forward and placing a kiss right under my chin.

“I mean, I’m going to, so you might as well,” he sarcastically replied. Old Stiles was back.

I kissed his forehead in response. Stiles started to feel heavier on my form.

“Wait, no! Don’t fall asleep! I still have to, you know…”

“Whaaat,” Stiles whined.

“I have to return the favor.”

Stiles’s looked at me so witheringly unamused, he could’ve put Derek’s resting bitch face to shame.

“I love you, [y/n], but you’re fucked out. And so am I. Go to sleep.”

He resumed his position snoozing on my chest. I nearly protested, but decided I really was too tired, and opted instead to continue stroking his hair. We slept for hours.

The next morning, I sucked him awake, and we both agreed that I’d effectively returned the favor.

Fear Potion

TW: Mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault.

Dear diary,

It’s been six months to the day since I was raped.

I still haven’t gone back to school, I’m doing it all from home. It’s easier so I don’t have to face him. I sometimes miss my friends, but at least there’s Facebook. Not many of them talk to me anymore. There’s a few that do but half of those treat me like I’m… different. I haven’t changed.

That’s a lie. A lot has changed. But I’m still Alex.

And I’ve finally picked up going to the survivor support group.

The leader’s name is Krissa. She’s nice. I told them my story. For once I felt no judgment. Even my mom seems critical of my every move.

I’ll keep going back.

I don’t know if I can survive this still.

I survived today though. That counts for something, at least.

Keep reading

A Case of Hives

My ex-wife, Janie, died. I was happy to see her go.

I regained custody of our beautiful son, Barry. He’s four years old. For the last two years, I’d been out of his life. Janie kept him away from me. God only knows what poison she filled his head with; all her hatred of me spilling out of her lying mouth to make Barry despise his old man. But all that’s over now. He’s mine again. And he’ll love me soon enough.

It was clear she’d said some terrible things to influence his perception of me. “Daddy’s bad,” Barry informed me one night. Tears filled my eyes and I clutched my son to my chest and whispered, “your Daddy is a good man, Barry. Your Daddy will take care of you.”

I meant it, although I hated him when he squirmed to get away. He was afraid of me. His mother’s poison still coursed through his veins.

In early April, Barry seemed under the weather. I checked him out. He’d developed hives. I was overjoyed. This would be my opportunity to redeem myself with him. Once he saw how well I could take care of him, he’d love me again. I thought back to his tiny hand clutching my finger moments after he was born. He’d loved me from the start. Then Janie ripped it out of him. I seethed.

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broken-sanity13  asked:

Well hey, at least you know what you did wrong and want to make up for it. But...how do you plan on getting Host's cane back? It's hard to trick the trickster himself after all

(*wiggles eyebrows* The way to trick a trickster is to be a trickier trickster!)

Dark hears a knock at his office door and is shocked to find that it’s Wilford. The pink figment has been back for a few weeks now, but he’s done everything in his power to avoid Dark thus far. It seems strange that he should seek him out now. “Will, how nice to see you again.” Dark smiles and gestures for him to come in. “Please, have a seat.”

Wilford steps inside Dark’s office, giving the other figment a sideways glare as he does. “We need to talk.”

Dark smirks, the ringing in his ears growing louder as he projects his aura throughout the entire room, a show of force for good measure, just in case Wilford has forgotten who’s really in control here. “I imagine it’s about your brother.” Dark closes the door. “Dreadful thing, really. I’d never have guessed that Walter was capable of such horrors.”

Warfstache snarls and draws his gun. “Don’t you dare speak about my brother!”

Dark turns around to face Wilford with a mocking smile and a shrug. “I assume you took care of him. Otherwise you likely wouldn’t have come back in one piece.” Dark studies his nails after a moment. They’re perfect, of course, but he knows the gesture will infuriate Wilford even further. “Well, I’m glad that nonsense is over with. We didn’t need another one around here making things crowded.” Dark looks up with a complacent smile and walks over to his desk. “Now, how can I help you?”

Wilford, gun drawn, stands across from Dark’s desk with his head held high. “I want the Host’s cane. Now.” He sees it lying there on Dark’s desk, but he’s not dumb enough to think that Dark will just let him take it.

“Oh, Will,” Dark says with a laugh. “That’s really quite funny. Maybe you forgot while you were away, but,” Dark leans in with a sinister smile, “you don’t make demands around here. You wiggle that silly mustache and wave your gun around and keep the little fans busy while I take care of the real work. Got that?”

“But, Darkipoo, our agreement was to work together!”

Dark spins around to find another Warfstache standing behind him, gun tapping against his chin thoughtfully. “It’s not like you to go back on your word.”

Dark turns back to the original Wilford. “What is this?”

Will shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? I learned some new tricks while I was away!”

A third Warfstache strides in from Dark’s bedroom off the office with one of Dark’s robes on. “You know I think this suits me!” He poses for Dark. “What do you think?”

Dark’s jaw drops, and for a moment he’s so stunned that he doesn’t even react when the Wilford behind him blows a bunch of bubbles around his head. Dark bats the little iridescent orbs away, but when they pop, they explode in puffs of pink glitter with loud bangs like a gun going off.

The original Warfstache grabs the cane from Dark’s desk while the third one keeps his gun trained on the black and white Ego, forgetting to continue his posing. Dark snarls at them. “I’ll drag you all into my void if I have to!”

His aura starts to become oppressive, the shadows growing around them and knitting together into his endless void, but Warfstache presses back, his own void extending from his like an inflating balloon. “Uh, uh, uh.”

As one Wilford holds back the void, the other escapes with the cane and the final Wilford fires three rounds straight into Dark’s chest. Dark coughs and stumbles back, his aura dropping away, and the other two escape before Dark is even sure what hit him.

Would You Be So Kind - Peter Parker


Your name: submit What is this?


“Y/N, where do you even go?” Peter asked me as I quickly packed my things into my bag. I shrugged at the boy in response to his question.

“You have your Stark Internship, Spidey, and I have super secret missions of my own,” I answered, purposefully being vague as I put my bag around my shoulder.

“You mind telling me what it is?” He asked, chuckling.

“Nope,” I answered nonchalantly. “See you tomorrow, Peter.” I began to walk out of the classroom when I heard him shout.

“This is so not fair!” I chuckled at his reply, but I continued walking.

I took my guitar out of its hard case and took my usual seat on the stool on the stage. Here I was in a very small and quaint coffee shop that not a lot of people knew about, sitting in front of a microphone.

I performed here thrice a week, basically using the money for books and school supplies since my mum never got them for me when I needed them. I tested the mic and the amplifier of my guitar quickly before beginning to perform.

“Hey guys. If you’re new, I’m Y/N. I perform here every so often, and… yeah… I guess that’s all I have to say. Tips are much appreciated; there’s a jar off the stage to your left, but you know, tips in general, constructive criticism and such are also greatly appreciated,” I smiled. “So, the first song I’m going to sing is called Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop.

I sang like I normally did and allowed myself to get lost in the music and not too wrapped up in the fact that I was singing in front of a crowd. My eyes, I admit, were closed for much of the song or I was looking down, or I wasn’t paying attention to the audience all that much.

I couldn’t help but think about a certain person who wasn’t in this coffee shop that I was singing about. The only reason I knew about this coffee shop was because of all of Peter and I’s midnight conversations. This was the closest coffee shop to my apartment. I think Peter and I’s conversations were one of the things that kept making me come back.


“Where do you keep getting this coffee? I’ve been to every coffee shop in Queens, but I still don’t know where you find this one,” he chuckled, taking a sip as I dressed a wound on his back.

“Clearly, you haven’t gone to every coffee shop in Queens,” I commented with a giggle of my own.

“Seriously though, where do you get it? It’s delicious,” he told me, “It’s my favourite coffee. And it actually keeps me up, too.”

“Well, I’ll never tell you, so you’re just going to have to keep coming back to me if you want coffee,” I chuckled, looking at him when I finished dressing his wound.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”


“I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much,” I sang. “All of the while, I never knew… All of the while, all of the while, it was you,” I sang, finishing the song with one last song. I opened my eyes at the sound of applause. I began to blush and grin and I scanned the crowd.

I felt my heart stop when my eyes locked on a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring into mine with a look of surprise and amazement. My mouth had gone dry and I cleared my throat beginning to speak, looking away from him. “Thank you. Now, I need to have a bit of water and I’ll be right back.”

I stood up, putting my guitar on a stand. I walked quickly to the barista and asked for a bottle of water, my fingers playing with each other nervously as I prayed Peter wouldn’t come and talk to me.

“In all of the months I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this nervous, Y/N,” said the kind, old Barista. “You’d think a bomb was about to go off just by how stressed you are. You alright?”

I bit my lip and leaned closer to him. “You know that guy? The one that I buy coffees for?”

“Midnight coffees guy? Yeah!” He exclaimed.

I widened my eyes and shushed him. “Please be quiet; he’s the brunet one, brown eyes. The one that was looking at me all shocked.”

Keith, the Barista, just gave me a look. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart, but there were a lot of brunet, brown-eyed boys looking at you all shocked.”

“Th-”

“Y/N?” Peter called.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, silently cursing the heavens as I faked a smile and turned around. “Hey, Peter! What are you doing here?”

Oh,” Keith commented.

“I… Well, I think I fi-figured out where you get the-the midnight coffee,” Peter stuttered.

“Well, seeing as you’re here, you have,” I chuckled. Keith gave me a water bottle and I smiled at him. I took the bottle in my hands.

“So,” Keith cleared his throat, “Who was that song about?” He asked. I turned to glare at him. He put his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, my voice strained. “I never said it was about anybody.”

“Well, your songs are always about somebody,” he replied.

Let me explain what was going on here. See, Keith has shipped Peter and I ever since the third time I bought coffee at midnight. He’s been constantly trying to get me to confess. To tell you the truth, I’ve tried several times and I’ve screwed each attempt up.


“Peter, I need to tell you something urgent,” I told him bravely in the halls.

Peter, confused at my sudden outburst, turned to look at me, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” he asked.

I bit my lip and clenched my fists so hard that I was sure I was leaving wounds on the palms of my hands from my nails, which weren’t even that long. “I like… I like… I like tacos!” I told him.

“What?” He asked after a silence. He raised his eyebrow at me and smiled a little.

“I like tacos. And cheeseburgers. You know, as one meal. Like, you get the insides of the cheeseburgers… and put it into the taco… like… I love it,” I began choking up a bit, both from frustration at myself and embarrassment. “I love it so much,” I lied.

“Okay, Y/N,” he laughed. “I have to get to class now, okay? See you later.”


“Peter, you know what a ship is, right?” I asked.

Peter gasped at me, putting his hand on his chest and feigned offence. “Do you even have to ask?”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Well, okay. I was just checking. ‘Cause I ship two people, and I wanted you to know.”

“You ship a lot of people, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know, but this pairing’s in real life!” I laughed, nudging him.

“Okay, then who is it?” He asked.

I bit my lip a little before opening my mouth to speak, but the words I wanted to say didn’t come out and instead what came out was, “Tony and Steve. The ultimate bromance.”

“What?!” He exclaimed.

“Yep,” I said, a bit bitterly. “Fantastic. Yep. Totally.”

“Tony would freak out if he knew.”

“I trust you with my life. Literally. If you told him, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me. Do me a favour: incase he finds out, I want to be cremated. Keep my books, too, would you? Don’t damage my babies. Keep them in good condition. They deserve to be read…”


“My songs aren’t always about people, Keith. What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to sound incredulous.

“So it wasn’t about that guy you have a crush on?” He asked.

“What guy?” Peter asked. I looked at Peter, then at Keith.

“There’s this guy who she just cannot shut up about. She buys him coffee all the time. Seriously, it’s both adorable and incredibly frustrating. She can’t seem to tell him about her feelings,” Keith continued.

I put my hand on my head, feeling a migraine coming on. “Please just stop talking,” I begged.

“She thinks he’s too good for her, could you believe it? If anybody’s too good for her, they’re probably too good to be true,” Keith chuckled.

I looked up at the ceiling. “Please kill me. Let the light fall on me or let there be poison in my water. Please kill me,” I pleaded.

“That’s crazy,” Peter said after a moment. “Y/N, you’re a great person. Whoever it is, they’d be incredibly lucky to have you.”

“Open a pit beneath my feet and let it eat me, I don’t care just kill me,” I whispered.

“So, who is it?” Peter asked, either ignoring my pleas or not hearing them altogether.

“Funny you should ask,” Keith commented.

I slammed my hands on the desk, surprising myself and I looked at Keith. “Do you want to tell him?” I asked.

Keith’s face lit up like he was a child on Christmas morning. “Can I?”

I put my hands up in exasperation. “You know what, I’ve tried too many times. Far too many. More than I’d like to admit, so you know, you can do it. I’m seemingly unable to,” I chuckled. “I’m gonna go and perform and you can tell him,” I took a swig of my water and walked back to the stage, leaving Peter confused.

“Hey guys. Let’s start with the next song. This one’s called… This one’s called Would You Be So Kind. I found it on Youtube while I was studying. It’s by Dodie Clark, and I think it’s really cute, but I don’t think I’m gonna think that in a few minutes, so I’m gonna sing it while it’s still cute. I hope you like it.” I took my guitar and began to sing the song.

“I have a question; it might seem strange,” I began, “How are your lungs? Are they in pain?” I kept singing the song, trying to get lost in the music, but I couldn’t help but feel nervous. My eyes locked on the scene unfolding in front of me with Peter and Keith. I could see Keith whispering while Peter’s eyes were locked on me.

“'Cause mine are aching… think I know why. I kinda like it, though. You wanna try?” I smiled before continuing, “Oh, would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? You see, I’m trying. I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough, so if you will please fall in love. I think it’s only fair - There’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere, wanna share? ‘Cause I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will, please fall in love with me,” I sang, now finally getting lost in the words because I understood them well enough. I was in that situation right now.

“Let’s write a story. Be in my book. You’ve got to join me on my page… At least take a look,” I pleaded as I sang, “Oh, where are your manners? You need some time? Let’s swap chests today; that might help you decide.”

“Oh, would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? You see, I’m trying. I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough, so if you will please fall in love. I think it’s only fair - There’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere, wanna share? 'Cause I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will, please fall in love with me.”

I surprised myself, and him too, when I began to cry. “Oh, do me a favour, can your heart rate rise a little? Do me a favour, can your heart rate rise a little?”

“Oh, would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? You see, I’m trying. I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough, so if you will please fall in love. I think it’s only fair - There’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere, wanna share? 'Cause I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will, please fall in love with me,” I ended with a final strum, my gaze not leaving Peter’s. I cleared my throat again, looking down as I wiped my tears.

“I think I’m gonna stop for the day. Thank you for listening,” I looked at the other audience members. I quickly packed my things and waved at Keith, who waved back before I left.

I walked quickly, navigating the streets of Queens as I arrived back at my flat. I walked in, putting my guitar on case on the floor as more tears spilled from my eyes. Peter knew; he had to. He just… he didn’t like me that.

That’s okay. That was okay. It was okay for him not to like me. That’s fine. It was fine. I was going to be fine. Peter could fall in love with whoever the hell he wanted to fall in love with-

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. I wiped more of my tears and opened the door to find Peter standing in my hallway, two cups of coffee in his hands. I bit my lip, letting him in silently. He walked in and put the coffee on my desk.

“Okay. I know. I screwed up and I’m a coward, I know. I get it. I’m a complete idiot and I know that you’re Spiderman and that, you know, you have better things to do than girls-” I paused, “Not that I’m insinuating that you should do girls, I mean- agh, why is this so hard?” I shook my head as I rambled on and on about phrasing and words and how I struggled with them. My eyes couldn’t seem to settle on Peter.

“Anyways, the point is: I know I screwed up by liking you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you or that Keith did or that I even ended up liking you and complicating things for you. So, here’s the deal: I know you don’t like me, so I’ll help make this a little less awkward for you by telling you that it’s okay; it’s fine. You don’t have to say it; I know. Okay? Good? Is that out of the way?” I asked, finally looking at him.

Upon looking at him, I saw that he was smiling at me. “What?” I asked, “Why are you smiling?” He walked closer to me. “What… what are you doing?”

He kissed me.

Peter Parker kissed me.

And when he pulled away I said, “Holy crap.”

He laughed. “I really like you. So, could you do me a favour and just accept that?”

“Yeah,” I choked out, beginning to grin, “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

  • hanzo, walking into the apartment building having a full blown panic attack and trying not to cry as he slowly takes his nose piercings out, lays them on the table and clutches the corner of the wall so hard it looks like he's trying to tear out drywall: genji. genji, I think i'm dying.
  • genji, sitting on the couch wearing aviator glasses and sipping on a mango flavored bubble tea while his finger nails, painted green dry: just give it a few minutes ur good man
  • hanzo, falling to the floor and breathing heavily: no, i think i'm actually dying
  • genji: it's just a panic attack. it happens. you probably just need to shit real bad. hey, wanna see the outfit my fallout character is wearing? it's really cool
  • hanzo, whining into the carpet: yeah

OVERWATCH SENTENCE STARTERS. (6/17).

  • “Yeah, I wouldn’t drink the coffee.”
  • “I didn’t want that life for you.”
  • “Initiating the hack.”
  • “Tell me your thoughts, my friend.”
  • “I hope nobody saw that.”
  • “Having trouble keeping up?”
  • “You were one a legend… but now? Just a shell.”
  • “You know nothing.”
  • “Lots of memories of this place. They weren’t all bad.”
  • “What if I gave you a chance to undo the choices you’ve made?”
  • “You got the beat down.”
  • “You’re on my naughty list.”
  • “You look like a guy who needs someone blown up.”
  • “That was going great… until the end.”
  • “I think I’d like to travel more.”
  • “Our world is worth fighting for.”
  • “Nailed it.”
  • “I thought so.”
  • “I give it a ten.”
  • “Can I get your autograph?”
  • “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
  • “You were not meant for greatness.”
  • “Push off.”
  • “One of these days, someone is gonna put an end to you.”
  • “I’ve got a long memory.”
  • “Leave this to a professional.”
Let Me Show You Something ~Naughty November~

Prompt:The reader is taller than Carl, and she’s with Ron but the sex is terrible so she goes to Carl. Threesome wit Carl and Ron 

Pairing: Carl x Reader, Ron x Reader, Carl x reader x Ron

Word Count: 2k

Warning: threesome, anal, voyeurism

Tagged: @crysxtal @dunbarkiss @kirsty-lou666 @emo-chick-59-stuff@xxshewollfxx @horror-movies-and-disney@kittencutie245@thejulietfarciertlove @yui-miyuka

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Everyone is like „omg Eren has a beard!!11!” and I’m just sitting here silently flipping out about what the HELL MIKASA WILL LOOK LIKE OMG will she have long hair, will she have shorter hair, did she grow in height, did she lose or gain weight, is she more feminine or more masculine now, CAN SHE NOW LIFT AN ENTIRE HORSE TO CARRY IT OVER THE WALLS, CAN SHE HAMMER IN A NAIL WITH HER BARE HANDS BY NOW I love her and I NEED TO KNOW NOW!  

today i overslept for like 3 hours intentionally because i was having an ongoing dream in which i was trying to find out the name of a lindsay lohan movie that i just vaguely remembered from my childhood (that wasnt freaky friday! people in my dream kept asking “are you thinking of the freaky friday remake but that wasnt it!) and every time i started getting close to finding out the title/confirming it on the movie’s wikipedia page i half-woke up and then laid there thinking “i have to remember what this fucking movie was” and then immediately fell back asleep and continued my dream search for this long lost lindsay lohan movie and then i finally found the title of it in my dream and found out that this movie, which had been formative in my childhood but that i had buried somewhere in my psyche for some reason, had this flourishing loyal cult following and i was so excited and going around telling everyone in my dream that they needed to rewatch this film with me because i had been looking for it for so long. it was like one of those gothy supernatural college dramedies with a kitschy title and a twist ending that affirmed the all encompassing cosmic power of female friendship and whatever else. also there was a half remembered scene where she and her boyfriend do it on like an addams family esque bed of nails in order to do a curse but it was actually shot in kind of a sweet and tasteful way. i was halfway through describing it in detail to my discord server (in my dream) when i woke up for real and slowly realized that the movie i had slept till 12pm trying to recall simply, in the words of lindsay lohan’s character in mean girls, Does Not Exist