i was listening to it on the bus today

asdfghjkl

depending which time i get off work i take either bus A or bus B and every time i take bus B there’s this guy whom I’ve secretly dubbed my “go home friend” BUTTTT LISTEN when i arrived at the bus stop today, MY GO HOME FRIEND WAS THERE TWICE. THERE IS DEADASS THE SAME PERSON TWICE WEARING DIFFERENT CLOTHES TALKING TO EACH OTHER. I’m shook. what’s happening. are they twins and i didn’t know. did i always see the same guy or was it really always a different one. is my whole life a lie

ambedo

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

(n) a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: tons of fluff, some angst

length: 12k

summary: a new kid on the bus catches your interest, especially when he’s listening to your favourite song

a/n: i wrote this before jimin said he loves the song ‘lost’ by frank ocean. we have some sort of telepathy

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Sentiments Mean Nothing

A/N: Welllll, first Harry Styles fic because, honestly, I’ve been a hardcore fan of his and the boys since literally 2011 and his solo career has been hitting me right in the heart, my baby’s doing so well, I’m such a proud mother. So, have this. This is, by far, the longest shot I’ve written on this blog so let’s hope it doesn’t get too boring and you enjoy it as much as I did writing it x.

Warning(s): Swearing, very slight Daddy kink at the end, suggestive sexual nature throughout

Word count: 4,261

Pairing(s): Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x OC (Original Character)


          You know, it wasn’t so much that she and Harry hated each other, per se, rather it was just that they had both developed a sort of, mutual dislike towards one another that, quite frankly, neither of them knew where it stemmed from. The pair had done nothing wrong to each other to deserve the hostility, but it was there and they both never really knew why. It was very much like an ancient feud between them.

Very Montague vs. Capulet-esque.

However, considering that they’d only had the pleasure of knowing of the other’s existence for about 2 years, the use of the word, ‘ancient’, seems invalid. Nevertheless, from the moment they first met, there seemed to have been an already established tension between the two personalities and needless to say, neither of them cared for the personality of the other.

See, he was a private person, an introvert, you could say; despite being a household name around the world, and preferred to keep himself to himself regarding personal matters but being quite the socialite when it came to public appearances.

She, on the other hand, she was… loud, in Harry’s books. An outgoing and excitable character that wore her heart on her sleeve within the comfort of her inner circle in contrast to the shy, non-talkative woman he had met through a mutual friend during a party.

With him being the one to instigate the conversations the whole time with a drink in his hand and a wide, fake-looking smile that looked practiced for situations like these, she found him pretentious and over-bearing. Talking to her as if she was a little girl who was too immature to talk to strangers.

And with her barely opening her mouth to answer his questions, nodding her head up and down or shaking it from side to side instead as an indicator of her feelings to avoid awkward stutters and embarrassing herself, all the while sipping from her glass and avoiding the glint in his eyes as he talked to her, he found her dismissive and arrogant. As if she didn’t have the time to converse with someone like him.

Despite their feelings towards each other, though, they had wound up spending extended amounts of time together over the course of the 2 years seeing as she had managed to pick up the job of his fashion stylist ever since the band went on a hiatus and he launched his solo career.

Although, the former cold-shoulders and silent treatments as they went on with their own tasks for the day started to dissolve. Their prejudices were still upheld, just shown in a slightly different manner as they became more accepting and comfortable towards their mutual distaste for one another.

During the first year, scornful glances and tight smiles were shared as they conversed briefly as to what Harry would be wearing for his next TV appearance. This was to be replaced during the second year with extra touchy-feely advances to tease and sarcastic remarks followed by cheesy pet-names to piss each other off were exchanged as she took Harry’s new measurements.

“You should buy me dinner ‘fore you get on your knees, sweetheart.” A dirty, but snide, comment was normal from Harry and she had honestly been expecting it from the moment she had started to measure his inseam.

“’S a good thing you pay for dinner then, i'n’t it? Tha’ way you can get on your knees for me.” She spoke in rebuttal before leaning back into a squatting position and standing back up. Her heels adding a good three inches to her height but still not nearly as tall as the 5'11" man in front of her.

She pivoted on her heel to place the measuring tape back in its rightful place before recording the numbers into her little journal of everything important she needed to know about Harry in order to fit him perfectly to his tailor-made, brand-name outfits.

She heard him step off the mini platform at the centre of the room and stalk behind her, his warmth radiating from his body to hers.

Why does he always stand so close, for fuck sake, it’s like he has no spacial awareness.” It was times like these where she thought to herself if there would be any chance in the world, where she could find a genuine bubble she could permanently place Harry in to avoid the close contact every minute, she would.

“Tell me again why we need t’ do these fitting things every six months? Seriously, ’m a grown man, my body doesn’t change tha’ much in tha’ time period.” Harry starting to fiddle with her pen she just used to write with as his minty breath fanned over the right side of her face.

“It does with your irregular fucking diet plans, Styles. Would it kill you t’ stick t’ one regime?” She spun around and leant against the grand table with her arms folded, looking up at the, now short-haired, tattooed man as he shifted to put his hands on the edge of the intricate furniture either side of her body.

“Mm, I think ’s jus’ 'cause you wanna try your hand at seducing me during these sessions.” His voice lowered down to a sultry, deep tone in an attempt to fluster his stylist but she, as always, stands her ground.

“If I wanted t’ seduce you, baby, I would’ve done it by now,” She leant up slightly, the endearing term fell from her mouth without hesitance while their breaths mixed between their parted lips as she continued. “And besides, size 10 feet? Not tha’ impressive.” She smirked subtly as she saw his face fall. He knew what she was indirectly referring to and, judging by the way he reacted, she knew she had hit a nerve in which she also gathered he would to try prove her wrong.

But before he could, however, she slipped out from underneath him and started walking towards the entrance to exit the room, her heels clicking against the expensive marble floors, not bothering to close the chrome door and yelling a, “make sure t’ lock the door when you leave!” to a rigid Harry who let out a sigh and rubbed his ring-clad hands over his face to let out some frustration towards the woman who was trapped in between him and the mahogany table not even thirty seconds ago, before slamming his hand on it and purposely leaving the door wide open in spite.


          “Change.”

Was the only word from the judgmental, but somehow always right, fashion stylist that Harry heard as he did a twirl in his new suit. Having quite the admiration towards the look, if he does say so himself, after inspecting it in the mirror.

“Whyy?” He drew out the word to emphasise his annoyance with the constant change of outfits. He might as well be a marathon runner, he’s breaking a sweat from changing his bloody clothes.

“Because, honey, the shirt doesn’t match the suit at all. That’s why I told yeh t’ wear black, not white, bu’ look who didn’t listen yet again.” She stood there behind him with her pen held in between her front teeth and one arm around her torso to keep her other elbow resting on top, catching his eye through the mirror.

He scans her choice of clothing today and, as per usual, she’s wearing the most stylish and trendy pieces that she matches so well with her heels. Harry’s never really understood how she so effortlessly throws together a look ready for the runway everyday when she comes into work but still manages to keep it light and casual as if it was the first thing she found in her closet earlier in the morning.

He trailed his eyes up her body, tanned and fit, may he add, to her subtly made up face which was glowing. He assumed it was from the highlighter she applied, because why else would he describe her as 'glowing’? That’s disgusting. He doesn’t like her. Not one bit.

“Have you quite finished staring at me, or do I need t’ get the camera for yeh so it’ll last longer?” She allowed the tease to be projected as she approached him, standing on the tiny platform, meaning their bodies were now pressed against each others’ closely before she shrugged off his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“'Ey, 'ey, 'ey. You normally need t’ get me drunk first before we can 'ave some fun, darlin’.” He smirked down at her, watching as she aggressively rolled her sparkling eyes at his comment. She continued to pull the shirt off of him and stepped down to grab the black shirt she had wanted him to wear in the first place.

As she turned around, she couldn’t help but notice a slight change in his physical appearance. His back muscles seemed more prominent. His thighs looked even more full than they already were when she last took a good look at them. His arms were bulkier. His torso now adorned with evident bumps of abdominal muscles. Even his cute, little bum seemed rounder and plumper which made her stifle a giggle.

“Awe, babe, have you been working out?” She had to bite her bottom lip to stop her bursting out into laughter when she caught him standing up a bit straighter, looking proud that his work was noticeable.

“Nice t’ know you were checking me out back there. Like wha’ yeh see, angel?” The pet-names were used as a kind of second nature to the pair of them now, but they were far from endearments. No, on the contrary, they were always laced with slight undertones of incivility and cheek. They were both familiar with them by now.

“Oh, most definitely. You been working out jus’ for me? I know ’m the only one you strip down for lately.” She referenced to the multiple outfit decisions they had to endure with every appearance he made in public, which people would be surprised as to how often that is, and she had to make sure that he was not seen repeating a look. God forbid he wore the same trousers twice.

She slowly made her way towards the, still shirtless, male stood in the middle of the high-ceiling-ed chamber, decorated with mirrors, as she ran her hands up and down his back before rubbing at his shoulders. Harry’s head fell back at the sensation of the soothing motions on his shoulders, he had been meaning to go to a masseuse to get the knots out of his joints for a while now. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh, completely forgetting that she would be the last person on Earth he would want to touch him like this a few days ago but he allowed the action.

“Yeh know I was filming 'Dunkirk’, sweetie, don’t flatter yourself.” He retorted as he pulled her round to his front by her waist and leant his body against hers, his frame towering over her smaller one.

“’S a shame, really. And here I was, about t’ let you have your way with me only if you had jus’ admitted this is all for me.” She fake-pouted as she taunted him, something she has perfected over the years, with her hands resting against his naked chest. There was something about the way her clothed, soft chest was pressed into his bare, hard one that made the both of them lose control of the situation at hand temporarily as they focused on each other in that moment.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” His voice switched to a low whisper, a threat almost.

“I don’t have to.” She replied with confidence, her eyes flickering to his raspberry-coloured lips that looked so inviting.

It was strange for the both of them, being in this position they’d never thought they’d see themselves in, but here they are. Through all the slight sexual tension covered up by distasteful remarks about each other over the years, clouded by the decision subconsciously made that they had a repulsion towards one another, they had failed to realise that attraction could’ve easily been confused with said repulsion, convincing themselves that it was a fact neither of them liked the other and that was final. Perhaps too afraid to confess and deal with the consequences of their feelings.

Just as they begun to come to terms with the compromising position they were in, and even more conflicting emotions fluttering around the space, the door was pushed open and two flailing bodies broke apart at lightning speed. Harry quickly finding his black shirt and fumbling with the buttons as the flustered stylist violently grabbed her journal and pretended to write in it whilst holding the pen upside down.

Not another word was spoken between the two of them as they complete the fitting session, everyone coming to a conclusion that the black shirt was indefinitely better than the white, much to Harry’s dismay, and their day was done.

The two parted and went their separate ways, however, the mental image of the other never left their minds for the rest of the week until they had to face the music at the next session.


          Harry was fucked.

Royally fucked.

So fucked, in fact, that he decided to wallow in self-pity at how fucked he was then he went out and fucked a random girl whilst thinking of fucking his attractive stylist he had now realised he had already fucked things over with.

If that doesn’t scream, “fucked”, I don’t know what does.

Though what he didn’t know, was that said stylist was also feeling the same way about him and was completely distraught over the idea that she might like Harry Styles. The same Harry that would make her want to rather die than converse with him for more than ten minutes. The same Harry that would tempt her to spit in his food whenever it got delivered during the fittings. The same Harry that would force her to socialise with large groups of people she didn’t know when he knew it made her uncomfortable.

But it was also the same Harry that, when he held her in his arms that other day, made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. And it was the same Harry with pink, soft lips that she wanted to kiss so desperately whilst, at the same time, tugging on his curly locks.

Though, more importantly, he was her Harry. He had always been her Harry to tease, to taunt, to tantalise, and to mess with until he’d get all riled up and sometimes push her against the wall (which she didn’t necessarily mind). But now, she wanted to describe him as being her Harry in a different way, and that scared the shit out of her.

She didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore, it’s like her life lost all purpose if she couldn’t make fun of the Cheshire-raised lad, and now all she wanted to do was tell him about her family and cuddle. She had actually begun to suspect she had developed some sort of illness and hoped it would go away like a common cold.

Although, she figured this was not the case the next time she saw him, in all his 5'11" glory, at a party very much like the one they first met at two years ago. Sipping on her alcoholic beverage, she observed him from far away as he mingled, as he always does so flawlessly, with people she had never seen before in her life. The very mere fact that he was in her presence not even ten feet away made her stomach tighten with new feelings she never thought she would associate with the musician and she hated herself for it.

Turning her body away from him towards the bar, she asked for another drink, slipping the rectangular note of currency towards the bartender as he fixed her up yet another glass. She knew she had most likely needed to have stopped drinking so heavily around the 'two hours ago’ mark, but right now, she really couldn’t care less, she just wanted to forget about Harry and if getting her stomach pumped for the first time means achieving her goal then fuck it.

Her motive was short-lived, however, since the charming man that was swimming her mind plopped himself on the stool next to her and gave her a sly smirk.

“Wha’ do we 'ave here?” He questioned, mainly to himself, as he observed the obviously intoxicated woman in front of him.

She rolled her eyes, hopping off the high stool, only to fall face first into Harry’s crotch which made him jerk back at the impact and let out a slight groan before cupping her cheeks and lifting her head up to inspect how far gone she really is.

“Heloooo, handsummm!” She tried her best to imitate a wolf-whistle seeing as she couldn’t actually whistle so instead made a sort of high-pitched, 'whi-woo’, as she trailed her index finger down the curve of his cheek and smiling drunkenly, “I misst yeww…” The slur in her words concerned him, not knowing how much she’s had to drink and she clearly could not stand up without support.

“’M gonna take yeh home, okay, baby girl? You’re alrigh’.” He scooped her up into his arms without any struggle and started to manoeuvre his way out of the clammy air of the bar to the nippy, fresh air of the London streets. He set her down on her feet for a second, leaning her against him to keep her balance, as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, knowing that even though his place was only a rough 20 minute walk from the party location, the chilly air would get to her more easily than it would him, she’d always been sensitive to the cold, and at this time of night, it certainly didn’t make the air more humid.

After a solid few minutes of walking to his abode, they finally reached the welcoming front door of his mansion, him fiddling in his pocket to find the right set of keys before twisting the lock and pushing the door open. A gust of warm, fruit-scented air hit the both of them as he stepped inside, laying her down on his extended white sofa in the living room before closing the door.

“Mmm, are yeh gon’ sex me up noww, Daddy?” Her sudden words making him choke on his own spit, as he cautiously walked towards the tiny figure resting on his comfortable seating area.

“No, no, ’m not, baby, not right now, yeh need t’ rest. I’ll get yeh some water and some Advil t’ take then we can go t’ bed, okay?” He spoke in a soft, calming tone that made her suddenly relaxed, only finding the strength in her to nod before he stroked her hair back from her face and made his way to the well-presented, expensive kitchen with more room than he needed.

As a matter of fact, all the rooms in this place were more than he needed, if he was honest, but he just didn’t know what else to use his money on.

Approaching the worn-out female sprawled across his sofa with a glass of fresh water and two pills in his other hand, he set down the glass on the side table whilst reaching his hand out to tilt her head up slightly and sit her up enough so she could swallow comfortably. He pried open her mouth by holding her jaw and placed the pills on the top of her tongue that had traces of alcohol left on it, bringing the liquid up to her lips and telling her to swallow gently. She obeyed and took the medication before slumping back onto the cushiony surface as he sighed, soaking in her beauty, even in this state of mind.

He watched as she closed her eyes and got comfortable, taking it as his cue to leave her to sleep, so kissed her forehead with care, and started to prepare to deal with whatever shit storm that was bound to happen, in the morning. Well, that was until he heard a small whine coming from her calling out for him.

“Harryy?… Stay wit’ meh? I wan’ cuddles.” She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling gently at the sight. She was just so adorable, how could he say no?

“’M right here, poppet, ’m not going anywhere.” He answered her before carefully laying down beside the inebriated girl he had grown fond of these past couple of weeks and tangled their limbs together, letting her rest her head against his chest and wrap herself around him in an attempt to snuggle and use him as her own personal pillow and blanket.

As he listened to her breathing become regular and so quiet he had to strain to listen to it, he knew she had fallen asleep so pressed another tender kiss to the crown of her head and whispered to her in her unconscious state.

“I’d never leave you.”

And it was in that sweet moment that Harry now realised that she had a hold on him, and he intended on not letting go.


          Harsh rays of bright sunlight beamed through white, sheer curtains and hit her face as she stirred from her slumber. It was a Saturday morning and she was definitely not in the comfort of her own home so thought the worst and groaned inwardly in shame at herself for letting herself get so wasted. The first thing she did was just look down at her, what she expected to be, naked body, but instead found herself and the mystery man fully clothed. Confusion overtook her features and something she noticed right away was that her 'pillow’ was breathing and they’re not supposed to do that, right? Or was she still tripping from the after effects of the amounts of alcohol she consumed last night?

A wave of pain radiated throughout her head as she groaned, bringing a palm to her forehead in an unsuccessful attempt to soothe it slightly. Her movements unnoticeably woke up her 'pillow’ and startled her when the familiar deep, raspy, and, dare she say, sexy morning voice sounded from underneath her.

Oh, fuck me, not Harry. Anyone but Harry.” She thought to herself, although not truly meaning it since she found herself absentmindedly wanting the situation to have been more… wild.

“Well, good mornin’, sunshine.” He chuckled lightly at her facial expression following the pet-name he had chosen.

“Wha’ the fuck happened last night?” She asked half-heartedly.

Part of her didn’t really care what happened whilst the other part dreaded what his answer would be.

“You really don’t remember?” His voice was thick with an emotion she couldn’t quite pin-point but she did know that she felt guilty after hearing it, sensing that he was a little disappointed.

She merely shook her head and bit her lip, titling her head up to read his clouded eyes, they always gave away whatever he was thinking, she detected this within the first few months of knowing him.

“It doesn’t matter, now can you get off of me, you’re starting t’ feel like a deadweight. I honestly can’t feel my legs.” His whole demeanour changed in a split second and she was a little surprised but what did she expect, really? He’s just the same old Harry, though she’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little.

“I’m not getting up 'til you tell me exactly wha’ happened, Harry.” She was adamant. She was always the type of person to get answers out of whoever she wanted, he was starting to wonder why she wasn’t a fucking lawyer or something.

“Listen, nothin’ happe-.” He was cut off by her swollen lips pressed against his.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement, he was bloody flat-lining on the inside but he quickly reciprocated the sudden, but passionate, kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist with her hands coming up to caress his cheeks. Her legs ended up either side of his torso and she pulled away just before he had the chance to poke his tongue in her mouth, just to tease, like normal.

“D'yeh want something t’ happen?…” She questioned him inquisitively, not 100% sure that he shared the same feelings that she had pent up inside of her for, what felt like, decades.

He responded by flipping her so she laid on her back instead and hovered over her, leaning down to peck her lips once more before moving down to her neck and pressing open-mouthed kisses along the skin.

“All ’ve been thinkin’ 'bout for ages, darlin’. Let Daddy make yeh feel good.” He smirked into her skin once he felt her gasp quietly and visibly tense at his words.

“I called you, 'Daddy’, last night, didn’t I?” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment once she heard him chuckle and answer with a muffled, “you did”.

“And it definitely won’t be the last time.” He commented in a sultry voice before raising his head to make eye contact with her and leaning down to connect his lips with hers another time.


He made a promise, and he was damn hell-bent on making sure he kept it.

Boss!AU - Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5, Part 3, Part 4

Time for the final part! This is actually my favourite part! It’s more fluffy than the other parts and I can’t leave the characters alone for too long so I’m sure we’ll dip in to the universe in the future again! I hope you like it - thank you for all the lovely comments I’ve had since starting it x

“Harry?” You speak down the phone after arriving in the office. It’s like a blizzard outside, raining and windy, and the last thing you need is your phone ringing when you’ve barely taken your coat off. You have his spilt hot coffee over your hand, and your clothes underneath are wet from the rain too; not quite the same weather as New York just last week. Harry had let you take Thursday and Friday off as a thank you for working the previous weekend so you’d spent the past four days with your phone switched off and holed up in your flat with takeaways and movies in between sleeping off the jet lag.

Your flat mate had flittered in and out in between seeing her boyfriend and she spent most of her time at the weekends with him now, which you were more than happy to see her do (and it gave you the flat to yourself), and you hoped you might have the same soon, if Harry would only make up his mind about whether he wanted something serious or not. You understand he has more to think about than most men his age, with his four year old son in the picture, and being the number one priority in his life, obviously, but you’ve decisions to make yourself. On the screen of your laptop is a draft contract from one of Harry’s rivals sitting in your emails, all you have to do is read through, get back to them with any adjustments, sign it, and you’d be free to sleep with Harry without fear of anybody finding out and frowning upon it.

Shit, it did sound sordid when you put it like that. Sleep with him? Be his assistant-with-benefits?

“Hey…” he sounds breathless, as if he’s running late. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask yeh if I didn’t need to bu’ I need a favour from yeh?”

You sigh, placing the coffee on the desk and pulling your hair away from your neck, the phone safely nooked between your shoulder and ear as you did so, and tried to do open up the place as he speaks. “What is it?”

“Sam’s sick.”

Keep reading

Do you guys know what’s absolutely heartbreaking about listening to the Hamilton soundtrack on shuffle? When the song “Helpless” comes on and you can’t help but feel overfilled with love for Hamliza, but then “Burn” comes on. Whenever this happens, I feel like I want to cry because it’s the beginning of their happy relationship, then all of the sudden everything is ruined. Why does Hamilton do this to me?!?!

Today I was waiting for the bus and listening to music when a cute girl walked over and started waiting with me. I got so nervous and fumbly that when I tried to change the song, I dropped my phone and my headphones couldn’t save it from its peril bc they slipped out of my ears with it. and now there’s a lil crack in the screen protector. Y am I so gay

“The Little Enforcer”

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes and his wife are the proud parents of 8 year old twins, Steven Anthony and Jazmine Rebecca. She’s spunky and he’s more  reserved. What happens when the school bully, Eric Rumlow crosses their paths?

 Words: 2,006 (Yeah I know, it’s long)

 Pairings: Dad Bucky x Wife, twins Steven and Jazmine

 Warnings: None. Mentions of bullying and fluffy fluff!!

 The blinding smile on Bucky’s face comes from 3 sources; Y/N, his wife of ten years and Jazmine Rebecca (Jazzy) and Steven Anthony (Tony) Barnes, age 8. Becoming a family man was the best medicine for him. Bucky never dreamed he’d have twins. After 22 hours in labor, Y/N was ready to cut the babies out herself. Once the pain subsided, she knew those babies had her wrapped around their fingers.

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Starco Week 3 - Bad Boy x Princess

Ok, so I didn’t really know what to do (didn’t have time to do an audio thing because I wasn’t able to plan for it) SOOOOO I decided I’d write a fic :p
So here it is! @starcoweek3 (based on the au by @fullertoons)

This ended up having some drama into it, so uh, yea, watch out. SORRY FOR BEING A DAY LATE!!

My first fic, so RIP my career

Thanks for reading!

The Date

“Uuugh” the young princess thought, patiently impatient to her date’s antics. “He better have a good reason for this!” Her thoughts harrumphed in a loud silence.

“Hey Princess~”, the lax, still maturing, voice called out from behind Star. The princess whipped around, trying to hide the daggers in her stare, but failing.“Oh I’m sorry, were you waiting for me long? I’m soooo sorry~.” Marco said sarcastically, with a devilish grin. The leather-jacketed boy walked up to Star, closer than the girl had anticipated. “N-no, I just got here!” Star stammered back shyly, blushing slightly.

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wanna chat? pt.19

on ao3
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

so this is like…twice as long as a normal chapter. anyway i was in les mis the other week and i sent something and someone thought it was a les mis chapter of wanna chat. and @reyxa​ encouraged it so Here We Are

this chapter continues right off of the last one because i found a note with sick quotes on it. i kept the les mis as light and understandable as possible but just like..let me know if it makes 0 sense. i had to get this out of my system because ive been in a writing funk

(mari = cough cough, nino = space bro, alya = alys, adrien = glen coco)

enjoy? 


3:12 in boo you whore

cough cough: gmoring i cant brethe out of mynose rn
Im not goin g ot be in school today
:(
Bu ti cant sleep anymore because I cnat breath e
iim gonna go watch youtube videos

6:37

space bro: my dude
i hope youre feeling better when you wake up

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Listen. My playlist when I’m on the bus ride home is the YNWA album and I assure you… It’s definitely possible to dance even while sitting down. Hehehehe

I dare you to not move a muscle while listening to Not Today. Film it hehehe~

Our Grandmothers Had Abortions

Vice President Pence is marching today in the anti-choice protest in Washington D.C. 

I wonder if Pence knows he almost certainly has loved ones who have had abortions. 

Would he still love them if he knew? Would he listen to their reasons, to the pros and cons they weighed, to the thoughts with which they wrestled? To why abortion was the best choice for them? To how they felt on the car or bus ride to and from the clinic or hospital? 

Does he really believe millions of women worldwide are murderers? 

I’ve never had an abortion, but I’m forever grateful to Planned Parenthood and to the morning-after pill. In 1997, my then boyfriend and I had a condom break and I was at PP the next morning. I’ve never wanted children. And while that boyfriend later proposed, I ended the relationship for myriad reasons. If we’d had a child, I’ve no doubt today I’d be a single mom, and a disabled one at that. 

He’d just be a guy paying child support. 

Women tend to discuss abortion differently when men aren’t in the room. 

As such, I’ve heard so many stories from elderly women, some now dead, about abortions they had before Roe v. Wade was legal. 

One nearly died from sepsis after the “doctor” (she didn’t know if he was a real physician) used dirty utensils. She was leaving a bad marriage and didn’t want to have a child with that man.

Another threw herself down her family’s long stairwell. She was pregnant with her sixth child and exhausted from tending to the five kids she and her husband already had. She miscarried, but was badly injured. 

One was grieving a horrific death in her family and knew she couldn’t raise a baby at that time.

I don’t know if my own grandmothers had abortions. 

Here’s what I do know:

My maternal grandmother nearly died giving birth to my aunt. Her doctors concluded she was at high risk for death with any subsequent pregnancies. But this was 1946. So instead of relaying this information to my grandmother, her male doctors told my grandfather. He didn’t tell her until years later. She became very sick after giving birth to my uncle. To the best of my knowledge, it was her fourth pregnancy that left her unable to conceive. She miscarried in the eighth month. He would have been a boy and she was going to name him after her father. 

She was 22 years old. 

My paternal grandmother died at 26 in Greece under Nazi occupation. She contracted tuberculosis and had to be quarantined. My father’s last memory of his mom: the paramedics dragging her away while she screamed his name. She died in the sanitarium and was buried in a mass grave. She left behind my father and his two brothers, each of whom were treated as orphans under Greek law (at that time a child with a deceased mother was legally orphaned because it was not a father’s legal responsibility to care for his children). My dad and his brothers were given to three different homes. War and famine had laid waste to Greece. Would my grandmother have had children if birth control were an option? If abortion had been available? 

I wonder about her last thoughts in the sanitarium, knowing her children would be alone then scattered like seeds.

If I could tell Mike Pence any of these stories, would he listen? 

One more tragedy:

We all know the answer.

a note on bilingual consent

Whenever I take my son to his favourite park, the one closest to our house, he often ends up playing with bilingual kids, whose supervising parents just as often have English as a second language. This means their kids - who are, like my son, younger than school age - automatically switch back and forth between English and a different language during play, just as their parents switch back and forth while talking to them. I’ve attempted to learn a number of languages over the years, and while I’m not proficient in any of them - I was a lazy student who struggled with grammar, though my pronunciation and vocabulary were always decent - the one thing I have remembered is how to say a smattering of basic words, including yes and no.

Right now, my son is three and a half. He’s big for his age and enthusiastic when playing, and the thing we’re trying hardest to teach him is respect for the word ‘no’. (That thing about teaching consent to kids at a young age? Absolutely matters. The parallels between childhood and adult behaviour become clear *really quickly* when you’re constantly saying stuff like “just because he said yes to sharing before doesn’t mean he wants to share now”, “she’s allowed to say no to playing with you”, “stop if the other person isn’t having fun”. BUT I DIGRESS.) And what I’ve noticed is that, when he’s playing with bilingual kids, they’ll often say 'no’ - a very popular word among toddlers, for a variety of reasons - in a language other than English.

So what I’m trying to do, with my very limited knowledge of other languages, is to listen for when that happens and translate it for my kid, so that he understands it, too. “If he says la, that means no, and you have to stop. If she says iie, that means no, and you have to stop. If he says bu, that means no, and you have to stop.”

This last came up at the park today, with a mother who was alternating between Mandarin and English with her three-year-old. I only ever took about three very basic Mandarin lessons more than five years ago, and I wasn’t sure I’d remembered the word correctly, so I asked her if I had it right, and explained why I wanted to know. She confirmed that I did, and we continued a pleasant conversation about our respective offspring, who were happily smearing each other with bark chips and dirt.

The point being, it’s not something I’d have thought of independently before the first time it came up in practice, and if the kid in question had been speaking a language I didn’t know, I might not have noticed. But it strikes me as a potentially useful etiquette, in the context of bilingual toddlers, to consider politely asking their parents or guardians what others words they might use for yes and no, to make sure they’re being understood by both children and adults alike.

Anniversary-Brett Talbot

Teen Wolf Imagine:#124

Word Count: 799

Warnings: None that I can think of?

Summary: A 5 year wedding anniversary doesn’t go exactly as planned.

A/n: Day 6! Thanks @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday for helping with my idea and @joeynihil for motivating me!

Also listen to this song maybe???? 

Originally posted by imlostinsantacarla

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cuddle-jin  asked:

I legit sat on the bus to school today listening to awake and getting scared Jin would go on a hiatus or leave BTS. I was getting really panicky and even though I know BTS probably means the world to me I can't help but feel scared.

try not to get stressed about this, seokjin wouldn’t want you to worry too much! right now he’s probably enjoying his free time and hopefully relaxing. and i know he’s not thinking about leaving bts right now. he loves us and his members so much. let’s support him together~

I’m Not Done With You Yet (Newt AU)

Originally posted by inlovewithbooksandboybands

Request: Could you do a newt x reader where you’re together and you’ve been really stressed lately and while your taking a shower he comes in and is just really sweet and washes you and hella smut. I’m trash sorry. Thanks x

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Rated: M (Mature)

Warning: Smut Smut Smut

*I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait love *

I groaned and opened the door to my boyfriend and I’s small apartment. Living in New York definitely had its downs. Public transportation was one of them. My care has been in the shop since last week and I’ve been forced to take the bus. As if that wasn’t bad enough it was raining today and while I was at the bus stop some idiot in his car drove right into the puddle and now I’m drenched in dirt puddle water. “(Y/N) is that you?” He turned the corner into our living room and choked back a laugh.

“Someone had an interesting day” I glared and flipped him off. He just chuckled and walked over wrapping his arms around me. He really didn’t seem to care that I was soaked and full of mud. “You still look beautiful with twigs in your hair and your mascara running down your face” He kissed my nose and I smiled softly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just this past week has been so stressful. It’s like the universe is out to get me” I huffed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Mhmmm, hold on I’ll be back” He ran upstairs and came back with a bunch of towels. “You can shower after you tell me about this stressful week.” He wrapped me up in the towels and we went to sit at the table. “I’m all ears” I giggled staring at my boyfriend of 5 years. I still can’t believe I got so lucky.

“Okay so first off my boss was being a complete bitch. He kept piling on work and giving me deadlines that were impossible to reach. Everyone kept screaming at me while I work and I try so hard to do everything right. Today he gave me a stack of papers to file. First he told me to file them by last name which I did and I finished in half an hour. Then he comes back and tells me to do it all over by first name. Who files by first name anyway. There were like 30 Samantha’s in that pile.”  He frowned but listened intently as I continued. “Not to mention I’ve had to leave so early in the morning I can’t eat and you know how I get when I’m hungry. I’ve had to work through all of my lunch and my break too. I’ve been living off of coffee, granolas bars and deli sandwiches. So now today I’m waiting on this bus in the rain because someone at my job thought it would be funny to take my umbrella. This car comes out of nowhere and splashes me, which is the reason for my muddy face and twig filled hair. All of my papers for work are destroyed and I have to have all of that work done by tomorrow so that I do’t have another encounter with my boss” I huffed and rested my head in my hands. “The bus finally comes and its so full and this lady starts screaming at me because I’m wet and I look indecent and I just can’t deal anymore Newt. I’m so tired I get like 2 hours of sleep a night” I wiped away my frustrated tears and looked up at him.

Newt smiled sympathetically and stood up taking my hand. “Go take a shower” I opened my mouth to object but he put his finger to my lips “No arguing go.” He kissed my forehead and practically pushed me up the stairs. I smiled and went into the bathroom. A hot shower might actually help me relax. I turned the water on so it would warm up and stripped off my clothes. I frowned when I looked in the mirror and saw what a mess I actually was. Slowly, I made sure to pull out all of the twigs and leaves from my hair.  Once the shower was hot enough for my liking I got in and stood under the hot water. I could feel my muscles relax, I grabbed my facewash first and washed all of the dirt off my face. Once that was done I just stood under the water and let my thoughts consume me. I jumped out of my mind when I felt someone wrap their arms around me from behind. Quickly I relax remembering that I did in fact live with Newt. He chuckled and rested his chin on my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful” I hummed and he pressed a kiss to my neck before grabbing the shower gel and squeezing some onto the loofa. “Relax baby. I got you” I smiled and closed my eyes leaning my head back onto him, He slowly slid the loofa all over the front of my body and I moaned in appreciation. This hasn’t happened in a while. If it was even physically possible my body relaxed more at Newt’s touch. He dropped the loofa and used his hands instead. “I’m going to take such good care of you” He rasped. His hands slid down in between my thighs but he avoided the place I need him most. His lips peppered soft kisses along my jaw and neck while his hands glided over every curve of my body. I leaned into him more and he cupped my breasts. I moaned as he kneaded them while sucking on my neck. He moved one of his hands so he could get the shower head and wash the soap off of me. “Spread your legs baby” I moaned and did as he said. He took the shower head and placed it right on my heat, sending a surge of pleasure though my body. “Oh Fuck Newt!” I moaned out, he smirked and slowly started circling it which only increased my pleasure. Gasps and moans left my lips so fast, this just felt so good. “Not to be a Debbie downer or anything but I think I’m better than a shower head” and with that he dropped to his knees and turned me around so I was right above him. He stared between my legs for a while before whispering “So pretty… so fucking pretty and all mine” I blushed knowing that he wasn’t talking about my body as a whole anymore. Without any warning he licked straight along my slit. I had to grip the shower walls for support or at least try to grip them.

“That’s a taste I’ll never get tired of” He continued lapping away at me, his tongue making figure eights. One of his hands gripped my hip and the other moved down to apply pressure to my clit. “Fuck Yes!” I gripped his hair and tugged him closer to me as if that was even possible. I felt him smirk against me before slipping a finger inside. My knee’s went weak and I grabbed onto the shampoo rack to help my balance. I needed him. All of him.  “Newt… I…. Need… You” I moaned out pulling his face up to mine. “As you wish” His lips crashed onto mine and I jumped up so that I was straddling him. He groaned as I tugged at his hair and pushed me up against the shower wall. He didn’t waste any time and just slipped himself inside of me causing me to moan out louder than before. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby” I whimpered and dragged my nails down his back as he sped up. “That pretty little pussy is always so ready for me” he sucked harshly on my neck. I threw my head back and screwed my eyes shut. “Fuck…” I hissed and leaned down attaching my lips to his. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and brought a hand down to slap my ass. A very high pitched squeal left my mouth. The combination of his thrusting, sucking on my neck and slapping my ass sent me over the edge pretty quickly. “Newt… I’m close!” I moaned. “I know baby, Let go. Cum for me” That was all it took to finish me off. Within seconds I was screaming his name and clawing at his back. He groaned and waited until I fully rode out my high before he came shortly after.

We were both panting and I can honestly say that this was the best relaxation technique he ever came up with.

“Call in sick tomorrow” He whispered “I’m not done with you yet”

Oh boy, I was in for a long night and I couldn’t be more excited.

Sleepy Gravebone on the bus

for @elvishflower! sorry, when i saved draft from your ask, it got deleted and i had to rewrite it from my laptop :( here is a sleepy bus gravebone for you,  i hope by my sleept memory it’s the correct one. and thank you kindly for the prompt <3 

i promise Graves is not a stalker :D and please pretend he is slightly younger than in the movie.

Everything had gone wrong today. From a broken car in the morning to an abysmally failed meeting with potential clients. And now Graves was sitting by the window of a crammed bus with enough chatter to drown out the noise of the highway. He wished he were a man who listened to music in headphones, but as a Director of Foreign Sales department, he had to keep serious looks. Hence the strict line of a white shirt collar, a posh coat and an elegant haircut “to impress”. The only luxury of personal fashion he allowed himself was a set of jeweled scorpion collar pins to hold his tie.

Graves stared out of the window onto dull buildings and cars. It was only now that he noticed his shoulder becoming heavier. A young man, whose ears were blissfully stuffed with white headphones and who was holding onto a rather shabby backpack, was fast asleep on his shoulder. His bizarre hair tickled Graves’ cheek.

First instinct was to wake the youngster up and tell him to leave working people in peace. But as Graves looked, he could look away no more.

What a beautiful young man, asleep on his shoulder! His face was relaxed, his lips slightly open. Deep shadows lay under his eyes and a small bruise covered his right cheekbone. Graves wondered what past was behind those wounds, for certainly a man with such angelic features couldn’t be prone to violence.

The man carefully leaned back in his seat when the youngster stirred and made himself comfortable on his shoulder. A small smile sneaked on Graves’ face.

It wasn’t entirely planned but he had missed his bus stop ten minutes ago and now the bus was heading towards its final destination. Feeling somewhat guilty he reached out for the man’s hand and covered it gently, intending to wake him up.

The boy sprang up with a startle and jerked away from Graves’ reach. He ran his hands through his hair and touched his cheek which imprinted the barely visible pattern of Graves’ coat.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized with a panic in his voice, avoiding Graves’ eyes. He grabbed his bag and stood from his seat, looking around with a most lost expression. He stared outside and Graves could see a recognition and realisation that the boy must have missed his stop too.

The bus halted and as soon as its doors opened, the boy was gone. Graves quickly followed to see him walk hastily away, sliding his backpack on the back. His head was lowered submissively and he seemed to avoid people as much as anything that might draw attention to him. Graves contemplated if he should walk home from here or just take a taxi which would have been a sensible idea from the beginning. But then he wouldn’t have seen this angel…

Despite his better judgement, the very next evening Graves was once again crammed into a bus, but now standing, squeezed by bodies all around. With an almost painful eagerness his eyes scanned the bus for the youngster from yesterday. The boy was sitting in the corner, hugging his shabby backpack. His eyes were wide open as if he struggled with sleep. Graves could see from his point that a bruise on the boy’s face was redder than yesterday.

Those big eyes met with Graves’. Perhaps, it was the distance between them that allowed for the eye contact to hold without hesitation.

Graves smiled gently. The boy smiled in return and finally looked away. Graves stared outside the window, watching colourful lights play on passing cars’ surfaces and not-so-boring-anymore buildings.

Perhaps, he’ll miss his stop again this beautiful night.

Send me sleepy Gravebone because it’s early and I myself can’t sleep :D