just-get-in-my-bed-already

it’s 2:30am and my housemates are on the other side of the wall being loud with friends. if I go tell them to be quiet then I’m the bad guy. I’ve already been having a lot of problems with these friendships, as hard as I try to be accommodating. I feel like I miss out on all the deep conversations and friendship building moments because I’m responsible and go to bed at a decent time. there’s times where I feel like I’m just outright ignored. they get their energy from being around people because they’re all extroverts, but that wears me out and they don’t understand that I need time to myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be included in the group. they’ve frequently made plans in front of me without inviting me, or when I ask what they’re talking about they say “nothing.” I can’t even express myself in words. I’m just frustrated and dejected. I’m on the outside of the group and it hurts and it’s late right now and I want to be asleep and they won’t shut up and go to bed like decent human beings

Dating Dan would include:

A/N: I tried something different. I enjoy these kind of things a lot so I wrote my own. I know it’s not a full story, but it’s something. I’m pretty busy today since tonight is my prom! 

Masterlist

Originally posted by shinyphan

staying up late almost every night

really late like Dan asking you ‘Hey, did you know that cows have best friends? at 5am

lots of cuddling 

Dan is mister super squish and his cuddles are the best

‘omg you are so short’

‘no, you’re just a giant’

‘i love you so much’ sex

watching movies and eating popcorn with Phil 

holding hands on the tube 

holding hands all the time 

‘stop editing and get into bed with me’ 

‘no, honestly Dan the video is perfect already’

being best friends with Phil and other youtubers

deep conversations 24/7 

‘stop saying that! i love your hobbit hair’

phil catching you two having sex 

him writing a song on the piano for you 

‘no the leather t-shirt can’t come back from the dead’ 

‘omg have you seen that baby!’ 

listening to him waffle all the time 

getting in the shower together 

phil banging against the wall because you are too loud in bed 

‘you are such a dork, but i love you.’

traveling the world with him

being slightly irritated by his haru pillow that stares back at you during the night

going to award shows with him

him calling you sweetheart, darling or baby

‘no i won’t watch that anime with you. you’ve got Phil for that’

you giving him lots of stupid nicknames

having big plans for the future together like buying a house and getting a dog

understanding each other without words

‘baby, I need your help. are those two different shades of black?’

‘nah it’s fine. you always look good anyway’

BTS Reaction to you losing a bet

Anon Requested:  Can I get a BTS reaction with what they’d make you do if you lost a bet to them?

OOPS THESE ARE SEXUAL OH WELL. NSFW WARNING.


Jungkook: “You..want me..to-”

“I want to watch you cum. Pleasure yourself (Y/N), I want to watch.”

You felt the heat rush up to your cheeks almost instantly as the words left Jungkook’s mouth. You felt like your feet were cemented to the floor while you slowly shook your head trying to reason with him. “Jungkook can’t you just make me do something else? You never make me do things like this for bets.”

“Nope, now come on. Get on my bed and masturbate.” His words left you shaking to your core, feeling it dripping wet already. You slowly discarded your shirt and shorts before setting yourself in the middle of his bed. Your hands slipped down under your underwear moving your fingers in small, quick, circular motions on your clit. A moan left your lips immediately while your head flung back ignoring the hungry stares Jungkook was giving you. You couldn’t get it out of your mind but you made a plan to make more bets with Jungkook.

Originally posted by hey-seoul-sistah

V: Your breath hitched in the back of your throat once you felt his fingers hook onto your panties and pull them down. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” You grumble down at Taehyung.

“You’re the one who lost the bet.” Taehyung spoke back, throwing your underwear down from the side of his bed. Without any hesitation he brought himself to your heat. His tongue stretched from his mouth, licking deep into your entrance. Your back arched off the bed, teeth squeezed shut to stop a loud moan escaping your lips. Your eyes screwed shut as your hands gripped the bed sheets underneath you. Taehyung pulled back slowly and looked up to you. “I told you that you’d like this.” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” Your hands flung down and flicked his forehead. 

“I’m just saying I knew you’d like my tongue.” He said as he dipped his head against you again. This time his tongue went deeper, tasting your wetness before his lips settled around your clit again. His hands wrapping around your waist, holding you against him. You let out a loud gasp as you felt his fingers enter your heat, your eyes shot open and you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. “Maybe we should make bets more often.”

You rolled your eyes but deep down you were agreeing a million times.

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Jimin: “Come here.” Jimin said from the couch, he patted his thigh and you let out a big groan. 

“You can’t be ser-”

“(Y/N), you lost the bet and I want you to ride my thigh so come here.” Jimin’s words had a way of their own, your feet brought you to him whether you liked it or not. You placed yourself down on his muscular thigh and looked him in the eyes. “Go on.”  You began to grind down onto his muscular thigh, the rough denim becoming the best kind of friction needed here. You rocked your hips back and forth creating as much please as possible.The feeling of euphoria soon approaching, without warning, Jimin’s hand came down to rub you throbbing clit.

“Jimin.” You moaned out causing his hand to speed up in circular motions. His other hand grabbing onto your hip roughly, moving you at a faster pace. Moans left your lips and you couldn’t help but thank the lord for you losing that damn bet. 

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

J-Hope: “You want me to what?” You say shocked and wide eyed as you stared at Hoseok.

“I want you to strip for me. Every last article of clothing is to be off of your body.” He was eyeing you, watching your every last move, reaction and feature. 

“But-”

“But nothing. The bet was if you lose I get to choose your punishment no matter what it is.” Sighing you nodded your head and slowly unzipped your jacket dropping it on the ground by your feet. Hoseok didn’t say anything, his eyes stared at you as if he had said ‘continue.’ Sighing once again you began to unbutton your jeans, fingers slipping underneath the waistband and slowly pulled them down allowing Hoseok to see your sheer pink panties you had decided to wear today. Once out of your jeans you quickly kicked them to the side with your jacket and pulled on your top, you dropped it along with the rest of your clothes and made eye contact with Hoseok once again. There you were standing in nothing but matching bra and panties and you knew this wasn’t the end of your punishment. “Go on, take them off.” Your hands reached back on the clasp of your bra and all you could think about was how you were never going to make a bet with Hoseok ever again.

Rap Monster: “You want me to what?” You asked shocked at the words that left Namjoon’s mouth. 

“I want you to kiss me.”

“Namjoon I don’t think-”

“You lost the bet (Y/N), you said you’d do anything I choose if you lost the bet.” Heaving a sigh you cross your arms over your chest, you didn’t think he would make you do something like this. Usually Namjoon always made you do something extremely stupid like eating a hot pepper or jump in the pool with all your clothes on not something as intimate as a kiss. “Come on just a peck, that’s all.”

“Just a peck?”

“Just a peck.” Sighing you nodded and uncrossed your arms. You walked slowly to Namjoon who was only like five feet away from you. You looked him in the eyes and saw the prominent smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes and raised on your tippy toes, hand finding its way to the back of his neck to bring him down to your lips. 

One.

It was that quick. Just a peck. You began to lower yourself back to your feet before you felt an arm wrap around your waist and you were pulled back to Namjoon’s lips. His lips latched onto yours and just as quick as the first peck you found yourself pulling him in closer deepening the kiss.

Originally posted by jackjacky5

Suga: “Make out with you? Really Yoongi? Can’t you think of something else?” You whined at your best friend who had a prominent smirk on his face. He was sitting very comfortably on the couch while you were shifting the weight from each leg anxiously. “Do I really have to?”

“You’re the one who lost the bet.” Yoongi said simply patting his lap as an invitation for you. It’s like your feet had a mind if their own and before you knew it you found yourself placed on his lap, straddling his waist. One arm came around your waist, tightening its hold on you as his other hand came from behind your neck, he gently pulled you down colliding his lips with yours. It didn’t take long for his to deepen the simple kiss.

As the kiss got more heated and your breaths started to become more heavy you couldn’t help but be happy that you had lost this stupid bet in the first place.

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Jin: You lowered yourself down on your knees looking up at a smirking Jin. His clothes discarded over the bedroom floor along with yours leaving you only in your bra and panties. You wrapped your lips around his tip, trying to get used to his length in your mouth. He began moaning in ecstasy as you swirled your tongue around and took more and more of his length in your mouth. 

You couldn’t believe you agreed to this stupid little punishment in the first place, but what you couldn’t believe was that Jin would want this in the first place. He would never ask you to do things like this before so why the sudden change?

“Fuck” he mumbled, his hands finding their way on the back of your head, pushing you a bit more towards him. You couldn’t fit his whole length in and began bobbing your head along his throbbing length. You knew you should be focused on what you were doing but you couldn’t help but think of what else he’d make you do if you ever lost another bet.

Lucilled.

Y/N has created a chatroom.

Y/N has added Steve, Tony, Thor, Nat, Wanda, T’Challa, Clint, Sam and Bucky.

Y/N: Guys, I have a serious problem.

Y/N: Guys, seriously, this isn’t the right time to ignore me.

Y/N: GUUUUUUYYYYSSSSSSS.

Y/N: PICK.

Y/N: YOUR.

Y/N: DAMN.

Y/N: PHONES.

Y/N: UP.

Y/N: AND ANSWER MEEEEEEE. I NEED HELP.

Tony: Y/N this better be important, or else you will remember not to wake me up ever again at 2 in the fricking morning.

Steve: Someone got up on the wrong foot. So what’s so urgent?

Tony: Still in my bed, but will gladly get up to kick your ass.

Wanda: Oh just kiss already.

Clint: I so ship it.

Clint: What do you think their ship name is?

Bucky: STONY.

Bucky: I mean I guess it could be that, but I don’t know, I guess it could, I mean maybe it’s not.

Sam: Don’t play innocence now, I know you read a lot of #Stony smut.

Bucky: Do not.

Y/N: Buck honey, even I know you do.

Thor: What’s smut?

Nat: Porn. But written.

T’Challa: Yeah, remember that time when I walked into your room and you-

Bucky: OKEY

Bucky: FIRST OF ALL, YOU GOT IT ALL WRONG.

T’Challa: Oh did I now?

Tony: No T’Challa continue, I think you were just getting to the good parts and I would hate to miss them.

T’Challa: So as I was saying, I walked in and—

T’Challa has been disconnected.

Bucky has left the chat.

Clint: Oh snap.

Y/N: Oh geez guys. But anyway the story’s not that interesting.

Steve: I was just getting into it.

Thor: Lady Y/N, I have far more important question to ask. Why did you wake us up? I assume it wasn’t for T’Challa to tell his story about Mr. Barns masturbating, was it?

Nat: Haa I told you Stark.

Tony: Whatever. He was always weird.

Steve: Tony you owe us some money. C’mon.

Sam: I always knew there was something wrong about him.

Sam: He never smelt good.

Wanda: I am pretty sure that was you when you hadn’t showered in four days?!

Y/N: YOU HAVAN’T SHOWERED IN FOUR DAYS?

Y/N: GEEZ, how?

Clint: Y/N?

Y/N: Huh, yeah?

Nat: We would all like to know why did you woke us up.

Y/N: Oh yeah

Y/N: oh boi. I almost forgot.

Y/N: I mean I never will but you guys helped me to get my mind out of it for at least little bit.

Steve: Y/N, what happened?

Wanda: You’re scaring us.

Sam: And we all know Mrs. Controlling you mind isn’t easy to be scared.

Y/N: I can’t go with you on a mission this time, because, because…

Y/N: Two of my family members passed away. And while trying to save them, my, my little baby almost lost his left arm.

Steve: Oh my goodness Y/N, that is awful.

Steve: I am truly sorry. Rest in peace.

Thor: Lady Y/N, I am truly sorry about your loss. Do you need anything?

Tony: Wow, I am sorry.

Clint: Really Y/N? Really?

Nat: Clint have some respect.

Wanda: Yeah she just went through a lot.

Sam: She lost two incredible people.

Steve: Y/N take as much time off as you need. No one is going to blame you for not going on a mission.

Tony: Yeah rest kid. Take some time off.

Clint: Oh c’mon guys. She didn’t lose anyone.

Sam: Clint, this isn’t time for your stupid little jokes.

Nat: I swear to God I’m gonna kick your ass.

Thor: Don’t worry of you suddenly feel some weird shaking, hear screaming or see unexpected lightning.

Wanda: you get him Thor.

Clint: HEY, HEY, HEEEEY. No need for violence, okay?

Clint: and besides she didn’t lose anyone.

Clint: At least not in real life.

Y/N: HOW DARE YOU? THEY WERE MY FAMILY.

Clint: Mine too so? I didn’t woke up the whole team and bragged about it.

Tony: What, wait, wait. What the heck is going on here right now?

Steve: Y/N have you been drinking again?

Y/N: No.

Nat: Then what the heck is Clint talking about.

Wanda: Waiiiit, I think I know it.

Sam: Did you just finish the season 3 of Game of Thrones? Because Robbs and Caitlyn’s deaths are kinda an old thing.

Clint: Nope not that.

Tony: Explain yourself Y/N, and don’t make me count.

Wanda: oh I definitely know what it is.

Wanda: and I am out of here before it gets ugly.

Wanda has left the chat.

Clint: Traitor.

Steve: Will someone explain already?

Clint: Do you wanna tell them y/N?

Y/N:

Y/N: R.I.P Glenn and Abraham. You will be missed.

Tony: YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Tony: I woke up for this.

Tony: You’re gonna pay. But tomorrow, I am way to tired now.

Tony has left the chat.

Y/N: oldie.

Sam: FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING.

Sam: I DIDN’T NEED THIS SPOILERS.

Sam: FUCK YOU.

Sam has left the chat

Thor: Aren’t they from that one show with the dead raising?

Steve: It’s exactly that.

Thor: Oh Loki is watching it. Now I can ruin it for him.

Thor has left the chat.

Steve: So that’s all? That your family?

Y/N: It was stressful and tragically. My little babies

Steve: You know they are just characters, right?

Clint: Oh buddy.

Steve has been disconnected.

Y/N has left the chat.

Clint: Better run big guy.

Clint: Unless you wanna get Lucilled.

Clint has left the chat.

Bucky has joined the chat

Bucky: So T’Challa lied

Bucky: Wait WHAAAAAAT?

Bucky: Am I Dreaming?

Bucky: This is just a nightmare right? Yeah.

Bucky: No NO NONONONONONON

Bucky has left the chat.

Nat: I swear to God, they need help. ASAP.

Nat has left the chat.

 

 

Shitty i know. sorry.

Moonlight

He slipped into the front door, stowing his spare key back in the pocket of his Belstaff. After three months of picking the lock everytime he needed some peace and quiet, Molly finally made him his own key, tired of being scared half to death by the silent detective popping up in her sitting room or kitchen unannounced.

The short hallway and adjoining sitting room was dark, lit only by strips of orange artificial light streaming through the blinds from the street lamp just outside the window. Sherlock crept quietly through the dim sitting room, glancing at the swinging door that led to the small kitchen.

No lights on in there either.

If Molly was already asleep, then Sherlock could just lay across the bed in the guest room without having to be distracted my Molly’s soft voice (soft?) and warm, cinnamon colored eyes (relating eye color with food products? He must be tired.)and get some thinking done.

Why he chose Molly’s tiny flat for his favorite bolt hole, he wasn’t sure. The bed in the guest room was uncomfortable, the sheets a lower quality than he was used too, and cat hair seemed to be everywhere. More than once Sherlock had came out of his mind palace with the weight of Molly’s fat, ginger cat, Toby, on his chest. After trying to dislodge the cat, which resulted in Toby sinking his sharp, needle like claws into his chest for the fourth time, Sherlock started checking the room and making sure Toby wasn’t hidden under the desk or bed.

The cat in question meowed quietly from the arm of the sofa, staring at Sherlock with its lamp like yellow eyes.

“Hush,” Sherlock said under his breath, slipping down the hallway that led to the guest room, the bathroom and Molly’s room.

Just as Sherlock’s hand came in contact with the door handle of the guest room, he noticed the dim strip of light filtering from under Molly’s bedroom door. Curious, he edged down the hall, barely breathing. When he reached the door, he saw that it wasn’t properly shut. Pushing it open as quietly as he could with the tip of his finger, he peeked around the door.

Molly was fast asleep, lying on her back, one hand resting on the open journal on her stomach, the other thrown above her head. Sherlock crept to the bedside, reaching down and sliding the journal from under Molly’s dainty fingers; fingers that could hold a bone saw steady or slap the piss right out of someone. The corner of Sherlock’s mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smirk. He dog eared the page she had been reading and placed the issue of Pathology Today on the night stand, switching off the lamp with his other hand.

As he started to turn to head back into the hallway, he caught sight of Molly’s face, bathed in the silvery blue glow of the moonlight that shown through the parted curtains of her window. He studied the lines of her face, the curve of her jaw, the way her lashes dusted against her cheeks and the plump fullness of her (not as small as he previously thought) mouth. He watched the way her pulse beat a steady, even tattoo at the base of her throat and instinctively reached out to push a strand of hair from her face. She sighed in her sleep, and Sherlock froze, hand hovering over her hair.

But Molly merely turned her head, and continued sleeping peacefully. Sherlock straightened up, stuffing his hands in the deep pockets of his coat to keep them from straying again.

Yes, this is why he chose this tiny, cat hair covered flat. Because of the small woman sleeping peacefully in her bed, completely unaware of the tall, brooding detective standing inches away from her, a fierce battle going on behind his swirling blue-green eyes.

Many times over the years Sherlock had used Molly’s flat as his bolt hole, showing up with cuts, scrapes, and bruises. And many times Molly had just sighed, helped him to a chair and patched him up.

Those time became fewer and far between once John Watson entered the consulting detectives life. But then again, Molly didn’t ask inane, prying questions about his injuries like John did. She would just clean his wounds and make sure the guest room had fresh linens, then would quietly disappear into her own bedroom, understanding that he needed the space.

Some nights, especially during his two years as a dead man, Sherlock would show up with more than just minor injuries. He would be deposited on her door step by one of Mycrofts men, bloodied worse than ever, and half crawl into Molly’s flat before collapsing on the sitting room floor, waiting for her shift to be over.

Molly would let herself into her flat, take one look at the worlds only consulting detective lying bleeding onto her carpet, and grab the nearest first aid kit. Without saying a word she would set about cutting through whichever disguise Sherlock had on, getting to the wounded flesh beneath. The first few times she saw his exposed chest (knife wound), or his muscular thigh (arrow shot straight through) she blushed. But as his visits during his two year hiatus became more frequent, the blushes appeared less often, her face hardening, ready to do her part to help keep him safe.

She would patch him up, shove a hot cuppa into his hands, and throw the ruined clothes in the bin.

Molly would then fix herself some dinner (always enough for two), eat and head to her bedroom. By morning, the extra food would gone, the dishes placed beside the sink, and a note would be stuck to her fridge with the number for the carpet cleaning service (courtesy of Mycroft).

Sherlock was pulled from his thoughts when Molly sighed in her sleep again, shifting her position, rolling to her side. She was now facing Sherlock, knees pulled towards her chest, when her subconscious seemed to noticed there was someone else in the room with her. She began to stir, eyebrows knitting slightly.

Sherlock’s own eyebrows rose, his eyes widening a bit. Now was the time to slip quickly out of her bedroom and lock himself in the guest room before she fully awakened…but he couldn’t seem to make his feet move. His brain screamed for him to retreat, but his body stubbornly refused to listen.

“Sherlock?” Molly asked sleepily, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes.

Too late, thought Sherlock.

He straightened up, pulling his hands from the pockets of his Belstaff and locking them behind his back.

“Hm?”

“What do you need?” Molly questioned, raising on her elbow.

What do you need? Such a simple question, and one Molly always asked without any hesitation. What did he need? Sherlock wasn’t even sure. He needed to run for the hills and sort out why he always wound up at Molly’s flat when he needed to think. He needed to sort out why this tiny pathologist always gave him a sense of quiet, a sense of comfort, a sense of home. He needed a whole box of nicotine patches. No, he needed to chain smoke an entire carton of cigarettes and walk around the darkened streets of London for hours. He needed….

“Sherlock? Is everything alright? What do you need?” She questioned again, sitting up fully in her bed now, reaching for the lamp.

“A place to think,” Sherlock blurted out, causing Molly to freeze, her hand halfway to the switch on the lamp.

“A place to think?” She parroted. “The guest room is made up. I changed the sheets this morning, just before work.” She told him frowning slightly.

“I need a quiet….place to think…” He said slowly.

“Sherlock. It’s nearly three in the morning, I was sleeping. The entire complex is probably sleeping. How much quieter do you need it to be?” Molly said, starting to scowl slightly at being woken up at an ungodly hour for no apparent reason other than the worlds only consulting detective need someplace quiet to think.

“No.” He said, stuffing his hands the pockets of his coat again. “I need someplace where my…mind…will be quiet.”

His eyes darted to hers and skittered away again, seemingly absorbed in the pattern of her duvet.

“What do you need, Sherlock?” Molly asked again, quieter this time.

Sherlock glanced at her again. Her head was tilted slightly to the side, her auburn hair looking almost black in the silvery moonlight, falling over her pale shoulder, The moons pale rays making her skin glow an unearthly silver-blue.

“You.” He said without thinking. But, it was the truth. Consequences be damned.

Molly’s eyes widened slightly. But before she could have any stray thoughts about what he meant, she just scooted over to the other side of the bed, and patted the now vacant spot beside her.

Of course she would understand, Sherlock thought, unbuttoning is heavy wool coat and toeing off his shoes. He placed his Belstaff and suit jacket over the chair in front of Molly’s vanity, nudging his leather shoes underneath it.

He stood beside the bed, hands in his pockets, looking down at Molly. She smiled at him and turned to her other side, facing away from him. Sherlock understood instantly.

She was offering him privacy.

She understood that letting any form weakness show was difficult and embarrassing for him. By facing away from him, she was giving him the chance to lay down and get comfortable without an audience.

Sherlock slid beneath the covers and lay on his back, pulling the duvet up around his chest, laying his arms on top. He turned his head slightly to chance a glance at Molly.

Moonbeams highlighted the slope of her neck and the curve of her ear, the dark strap of her sleep top and the smoothness of her pale skin. Her hair fanned out behind her on her pillow, the ends just close enough to Sherlock’s face that he could smell hints of mint and rosemary from her shampoo, along with the underlying smell of formaldehyde.

He turned his head a bit more to get a better view of her, when he noticed how close to the edge of the bed she was.

As always, Molly was trying to make herself as small as possible. Trying to take up as little room as she could manage. Even in her own bed, in her own flat, she did her best to keep him comfortable. She knew that Sherlock hated physical touch of any kind, unless he initiated it; which was close to never.

But tonight….

Tonight he just needed his brain to be quiet. He needed his mind palace to be silent, no one stirring, no data flying around. Sherlock just wanted some peace and quiet; some comfort (even if he would never admit it to even himself).

Sherlock just needed to feel home.

Without giving it another thought, he rolled to his side, his right arm reaching out and snaking around Molly’s waist, pulling her flush to his chest. He heard her soft gasp of surprise; felt her jump slightly at his touch.

Sherlock buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the comforting Molly scent of her shampoo and hints of chemicals that shouldn’t make him feel relaxed, but did all the same. He splayed his large hand on her belly, from the hem of her sleep shirt to just under her ribcage, marveling in how small her frame was in comparison to his.

Molly tentatively placed her small hand on top of his, sliding her fingers to fall in between his long musicians digits. She felt Sherlock curl around her even more, almost clutching her to him, his nose in her hair, barely touching the back of her neck. He sighed deeply, and she felt him relax, his breathing starting to become more even.

Within minutes, Sherlock was fast asleep. Molly rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand slowly, wondering what made Sherlock hold onto her as if his life depended on it. She decided that it didn’t matter. He was here, he was relaxed and she helped him find some peace and quiet.

Watching the cool moonlight slowly melt into warm, predawn sunlight, Molly closed her eyes, surrendering to sleep encircled in the unique warmth of Sherlock Holmes.


Thank you for reading my first ever fanfic!! And the biggest shout out ever to @mollyhooperish and @forthegenuine for being the best betas anyone could ask for! Thank you, my friends, for fixing all my grammar mistakes, for giving me some excellent ideas, and for putting up with me sending you drafts at 4 am. You two are the best :)

okay so usually thoughts i get at night dont tend to turn into any sort of urge but ive waited long enough

why has no one
done ANYTHING
WITH THIS

I MEAN????

CAN YOU IMAGINE?????

BOTH WAYS!!

MAYBE EVEN A LITTLE BIT OF??

ITS SO PERFECT?!?!!

THIS THING WAS FROM THAT PITCH VIDEO THAT CAME OUT NOT THAT LONG AFTER THE FINALE AND I WAS HONESTLY EXPECTING TO SEE IT EVERYWHERE???
BUT ITS NOWHERE???
I SAW NO ONE EVEN MENTION IT????

SKYPE CALLS AND MAIL ARE ALREADY PERFECT BUT JUST IMAGINE
IMAGINE THEM POPPING THIS PUPPY OUT

he says “honey, you’ve gotta stop
wearing all my clothes,” and just like that,
i feel myself burning up.
his sweater begins to twist itself around my neck while i sleep.
his sweatpants become anchors on my ankles.
i am prisoner, i am afraid. i know where this is going. i am already halfway gone.

he says “darling, give me back that shirt”
and all of them are suddenly folded neatly in piles on his already-made bed.
i made it this morning. we haven’t slept since.
he knows i am like this, he knows how scared i get.

he says “baby, wait” and i start running.
i always told him i was good at that. i told him from the start.
he knows my mind, the twists and turns it takes and so

he says “lover, sit down for a moment”
and i am cemented to his couch.
he says “i’m not leaving, i just wanted to wear that shirt tonight” but my brain
has already thought of fifty other things i could say to convince him to stay.

my brain just says “not today.”

Illness-Based rp Starters
  • "You've been coughing a lot. You okay?"
  • "What is wrong with you?"
  • "Gosh, you're burning up!"
  • "Um, hey? Anyone in there? Hello?"
  • "Ugh, just blow your nose already."
  • "My head might just explode."
  • "I think I'm gonna hurl."
  • "If you get me sick, I'll kill you."
  • "Ah-choo!"
  • "Okay, that can't be allergies. Are you sick?"
  • "Geez, you look like crap."
  • "That is so gross."
  • "Hey, woah. Don't pass out on me here."
  • "You really should be in bed, you know."
  • "I'm too busy to spend all day in bed."
  • "I'b fide."
  • "Please tell me there's some cough drops left."
  • "Do you think it's warm in here?"
  • "You're so pale."
  • "Have you eaten today?"
  • "They told me you passed out. How do you feel?"
  • "I'm not getting out of bed."
  • "The soup is probably great, but I can't taste a thing."
  • "You know, that's not helping me feel better."
  • "My nose hates me."
  • "You should probably stay back. You don't want to catch this."
  • "Are you coming down with something?"
  • "My throat feels funny."
2

I had no desire to get out of bed this morning–it’s pouring rain here and I’m still so peopled out that I feel like it’s already been a full week crammed into one day.  Also, the book I read last night was super disappointing–I thought that People I Want to Punch in the Throat was super funny, but the holiday version…notsomuch.

My mood was quite lifted when I got in the car and found that the husband had gotten gas for me!  No having to stop and pump gas in the rain!  He’s just the best ever!  And, I found this super sweet note on my computer from coworker Wayne when I got to my desk this morning!  Annnnd, we got our new t-shirts for 2017 (they’re always designed by kids)!  :)  Oh yeah, and in about an hour, I get to go and give out books to a bunch of preschool kids.

Life is good. My attitude could be better.  But, it’s getting there. ;)

BTS Reaction to you not wearing a bra to bed

Jin (Seokjin): *blushes* aww my jagi is so beautiful *covers you with a blanket so he doesn’t get distracted too much* *gives you a smooch while you’re sleeping*

Suga (Yoongi): Damn you look comfy *smirks at your sleeping figure* same tho *falls asleep hugging your waist*

J-Hope (Hoseok): *surprised scream when he notices*
   you: *sleepy* wtf hoseok I was asleep, what’s wrong?? Hobi: nothing I just didn’t expect you to be bra-less.. but since you’re awake already… YOU IN THE MOOD FOR SOME HOPE?

Rap Monster (Namjoon): alright alright alright *quite impressed by what he sees* *lies down next to you* *hugs you close to him* *low key loves you for being so comfortable around him but doesn’t say anything*

Jimin: *has to look twice because he doesn’t believe what he sees* WHOA JAGI *sees you’re asleep* AH DAMN this is turning me on *turns away from you to net get too distracted* *thirsty AF*

V (Taehyung): *starts giggling* ahh they’re so jiggly *softly touches your boobs* *you shuffle in your sleep* AH SHIT 

Jungkook: *blushes when he sees you’re not wearing a bra* omg omg stay calm jungkookie *can’t help but get slightly aroused* *tries to think of anything else besides you lying next to him*

Credit to the gif owners~

Illness RP starters

“You’ve been coughing a lot. You okay?" 

"What is wrong with you?”

“Gosh, you’re burning up!”

“Um, hey? Anyone in there? Hello?”

“Ugh, just blow your nose already.”

“My head might just explode.”

“I think I’m gonna hurl.”

“If you get me sick, I’ll kill you.”

“Ah-choo!”

“Okay, that can’t be allergies. Are you sick?”

“Geez, you look like crap.”

“That is so gross.”

“Hey, woah. Don’t pass out on me here.”

“You really should be in bed, you know.”

“I’m too busy to spend all day in bed.“

"I'b fide.”

“Please tell me there’s some cough drops left.”

“Do you think it’s warm in here?”

“You’re so pale.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“They told me you passed out. How do you feel?”

“I’m not getting out of bed.”

“The soup is probably great, but I can’t taste a thing.”

“You know, that’s not helping me feel better.”

“My nose hates me.”

“You should probably stay back. You don’t want to catch this.”

“Are you coming down with something?”

“My throat feels funny.”

anonymous asked:

In your opinion could we get a bellarke scene where they have to share a bed platonically? or where they fall asleep together? It's not just I love this "trope" but also I feel this fits in with their relationship. Sleeping with someone is really intimate and they're already reaching that level.

Did you come from my brain, anon? I 100% think that ~~platonic bedsharing is on the table, but not because they have to, but because they choose too.  And I don’t even mean “platonically” facetiously. 

Honestly, I think they are on the level where falling asleep together isn’t that big of a deal. Sure, it’s more explicitly intimate than they’ve been before, but I think it’s a natural step for them, especially if you ascribe to the theory, as I do, and as I know @mego42 does, that they’re going to put a more physical relationship on hold, at least for this season. (I am actually team Bellarke S4 kiss, because come on, but definitely s4b and in the last few episodes.) ANYWAY, with Bellarke, I think these two constantly provide emotional and physical comfort for each other (look at 3b honestly, istg these kids have no chill) and sleeping in the same bed is just an extension of that. I can easily see it happening as an extension of an angsty “we can’t be together right now” scene that, because they’re them, doesn’t mean they end up getting more distance from each other, but one that actually brings them closer together. 

So yes, I think it’s very plausible we’ll see some snoozing bellarke. I absolutely agree with you that falling asleep with someone and all the soft sleep intimacies you get- sleep twitching, instinctually seeking warmth, cuddling, is so much more intimate than sex in some cases.  

And yes- with Bellamy and Clarke, they honestly take platonic intimacy to the next level… but like, can you imagine what it’s going to be like when they realize they’re it for each other? ha… I’ll die.

“Do you want to know a Secret?..”

“do you want to know a secret?” Ashton whispered in your ear, as you lie face down in the middle of your bed. You could feel his hot breath flowing across your face each time he exhaled. 

“No ash I don’t. I want you to go to sleep, it’s 3 in the morning.” You muttered to your best friend “You’re drunk and you have already made me leave my bed to collect you from the stupid police station”, this making Ashton burst out into a fit of giggles.

Pulling the fuzzy blankets further up to your head, trying to grasp on to sleep before your bright and early wake up call of your alarm. you heard to sound of zippers and knew ash was following your orders to get into bed, followed by the bed dipping and Ashton getting underneath the cover into your warm cocoon of blankets.

After a few minutes of silence, just as you were finding sleep when you heard Ashton roll over and mutter “ well I love you”

False Gods and Dichotomies

It’s late, and everyone’s likely in bed already, and this may just get buried in the nocturnal feed, but here I am anyways - blinking tiredly into the glare of my computer screen because maybe what I’m about to say might help.

There’s lots of despair on here today. Fans are disappointed in the trickery, the jerk around, the nonsense that’s been erupting from this fandom since day one. But today there’s a disappointment that feels personal, too, as though fans have been deliberately duped for ratings, merchandise promotion, and fake internet points.

I get that.

At the same time, this fandom has always operated in extremes. How many times have we called Cait a goddess, perfection personified, a Queen? How many times has Sam been called The King of Men, a genuinely GOOD guy, unsullied by fame, unimpeachably humble and sincere?

But this immaculate image of celebrity - created by PR teams, by fan groups, by an entire production company - is an impossible ideal. No one is ever good all the time, or sincere all the time, a goddess, a king.

How could two humans even hope to live up to that? They can’t.

This isn’t an excuse. All I’m saying is that if you’re disappointed in Sam, you needn’t be, because - and don’t take this the wrong way - if you’re disappointed, he likely isn’t the person you thought he was in the first place. As much as social media brings us closer to other people, and in this case, celebrities, we don’t actually know them. We only see what is shown to us, and as much as SM has closed the gap, most of what we see is manufactured, buffed, and presented to us wrapped in a neat little bow. And it’s never the whole picture. And when we start seeing cracks in the machine, we don’t like it. It makes us feel gullible. It makes us feel sad.

But you shouldn’t feel bad about this. Or stupid. And here’s why:

Living on earth can be shitty. Terrible things happen every day, and to get through, we look for bright spots. Sometimes that’s a tv show, sometimes it’s a great book, sometimes it’s going to a concert or taking a walk in a forest.

Sometimes we fall in love with an image or ideal because it feels so good to affirm that there is good in the world - and it feels even better when it happens in the unlikely arena of celebrity because it’s so unusual to find sincerity there, and that space is so different, so separate from our own imperfect lives.

We want there to be perfect people. We want to champion others without having to even think about conditions. We, as a species, want icons. I’m sure there’s a psychologist or biologist out there with something to say about that.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to be embarrassed if you fell for it. There are entire think tanks devoted to creating these images. The people who create our modern idols are really really good at what they do.

And I don’t think Sam is a bad guy. In my opinion, he’s an ordinary person in an extraordinary position. He’s not only good or bad. A hero or a zero. Perfect or the worst. He’s going to get it right sometimes, and he’s going to fuck it all up sometimes, too. As do we all.

But here’s to taking our blinders off. I bet we’ll be happier for it.

Don’t ever think about that first moment when Philip visited Lukas in the hospital after the showdown with Ryan, or how Lukas would have been told about Anne already. And don’t think about Philip feeling kinda dead inside and just needing to be with his boyfriend. Don’t imagine Lukas taking one look at Philip and just holding out his arm and letting him crawl into that hospital bed with him. And don’t think about how the nurses found them asleep together and decided not to wake them up and tell Philip to leave. Don’t do that because it will only make you sob.

cocohook38  asked:

oh god CS with 9 haha

Hahaha!!!

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“Not tonight it isn’t! Get out!”

“You’re being ridiculous-”

“No, i’m being precautious.”

“Emma, we already bloody live together, one more night isn’t going to make a difference.”

“But it’s tradition!”

“Sod tradition!”

“Look. Tomorrow night you can come back, as my husband, and we can spend the rest of our nights in this damn bed. But tonight you are banished. I’m not taking any chances on tomorrow being jinxed. Not with this family’s track record.”

“So where am I supposed to sleep?”

“I don’t know! Granny’s? the jolly roger? dunk in with my dad? Just not here!”

“Just so you know, I think you’re being preposterous, but i’ll do it if it makes you happy.”

“Don’t pull the martyr card on me. And besides…. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow night…”

“Can’t wait, love.”

9th Advent Joker Imagine

Originally posted by i-mitacja


//Sorry this sucks and it’s late. I’m just dealing with a lot of stuff now, but I’ll write. Xxx

Your P.O.V.

I was bored so I decided to kill some time. After doing a lot of criminal things, being outside on a wild ride and dealing with the world, I thought it was fair for me to be lazy and get my pc. I was in bed and I found a game called ‘the impossible quiz’. That’s what I was trying to solve and it had been twenty minutes of frustration already.

I had one life left and I had a completely idiotic question ‘..you are my candy girl’ and the answers were ‘1. Sugar 2. Jam 3. Marmalade 4. honey’. Since I had no skips left I decided to choose Jam. It was wrong. 

‘’Fuck you!’’ I yelled at the pc as I lost the quiz again. Then I shut it and nearly threw it away from me. It really pissed me off. ‘’What’s upsetting you?’’ I heard Joker who had walked in without me noticing. I turned to look at my shirtless boyfriend who found this amusing. ‘’That fucking game or quiz..whatever’’ I muttered and crossed my arms. I was so done with that thing.

‘’Still playing the impossible quiz?’’ He asked me while sitting down in bed with me. I just nodded and took a deep breath. ‘’Well at least it’s name is fitting’’ He snickered and thought it was a good idea to make me more angry. I rolled my eyes and faced away from my boyfriend who knew how to be a total dick sometimes.

‘’Don’t be so angry doll, it’s just a game’’ He sighed after laughing. Then he touched my arm softly, causing me to look at him. ‘’I dare you to play it without losing your temper’’ I said a little encouragingly. His red smile froze and he glanced at the pc. ‘’Fine’’ He accepted the challenge.

It didn’t take long until we were both frustrated with that game.

Break Up With Him

Summary: Dean calls the reader while she’s in the middle of a date, declaring that he loves her. Based on “Break Up With Him” by Old Dominion

Word Count: 2304

Warnings: None

A/N: So… I might have recently found out that country music isn’t the devil’s music like I’ve always thought. And I may or may not have found Dean in quite a few of the songs… So this may or may not be a result of me not wanting to go to bed and staying up until one a.m. getting it out of my system…

A/N, P.S.: In honor of the presentation that I aggressively don’t want to do today, here’s a oneshot with Dean Winchester–the man that I definitely would do today if I could ;)

Break Up With Him by Old Dominion


“Then Elise came over and Brody spilled his coffee all over her,” Chris said, laughter hiding behind his words.

“Oh my—seriously? Why doesn’t he just fess up already?”

Your boyfriend raised his wine glass to you before taking a sip. “I know, right? She just laughed it off.”

Keep reading

To draw out a splinter or heal a cut.

When I was very small, I cut my finger somehow. I don’t remember how I did it now but it wasn’t getting better with time - in fact, it started to swell and turn red. So my grandmother looked at it and disappeared into the kitchen while my mother was helping me get ready for bed.

Grandma soon came back with a soapy wash rag, a wet wash rag, a piece of raw fatty bacon, and a clean strip of cotton. She washed my hand even though it hurt a lot and I complained that my mother had already washed it that day. Then she wrapped the fatty strip of bacon around my whole finger, not just the end with the cut, and she secured the bacon with the clean piece of cotton fabric. I was so confused. I grew up getting yelled at if I went anywhere near raw eggs or raw meat and there she was putting raw bacon on my unhealed swollen cut. She held my hand in both of hers and stared at it intently for close to a minute, and then she told me to go to bed with the bandage on my finger overnight. I remember going to bed and feeling uncomfortable because raw bacon feels greasy and just … yuck.

But the next morning, my mother took off the bandage and not only was the swelling gone but a very small bit of wood had been drawn to the surface. My mother removed the splinter without hurting me and she threw out the raw bacon without a word.

It happened a few more times in my childhood and it always worked. I once asked my mother when I was about 9-years-old where my grandmother learned “the bacon magic” as I called it. My mother didn’t ever want to say much about the not-so-common things my grandmother and even she did (now I know she only wanted me to find my own path, not be what they were because it was expected) and she only said, “We learned a lot on the farm.”

So that’s my tip for today. Raw fatty bacon. My grandmother taught it to my mother and then to me from wherever she learned it. If you have a flesh injury that is swelling, showing first signs of infection, or you can’t get out a splinter, try applying raw fatty bacon to it for a while. It always worked in my household. Make sure you clean the injury regularly as well as before applying the bacon and after you remove it. This old remedy worked for my family far more often than not, so I’m comfortable passing on the advice.

Disclaimer: Folk remedies are done at your own risk and do not replace medical advice. I’m not a doctor. Please consult your physician if your injury worsens, you still can’t get the splinter out, or if the infection is more advanced than first stages. Folk remedies also don’t replace standards of cleanliness. Keep your injuries clean with soap and water or anti-bacterial washes regularly even right before and right after doing a remedy like the bacon. Lastly, the bacon needs to be as fresh as possible.