perfect ensemble

A Sax Choir version of the Novakid theme from Starbound, performed at Solo and Ensemble because why not. The arrangement is mine, and I shortened the song to make it easy to learn, as this was kind of a last minute thing. We got gold, for anyone interested.


I unlace my fingers from Rose, and I hold her one hand in between two of mine, just staring at them for a while. I call her stubborn, but in the past year and a half, I’ve been worse.
I meet those fierce yellow-green eyes. Even in the wake of my pain, she has this resilience that’s more beautiful than words can describe. It’s fire to my water. And I want her to burn me alive.


Drag of the day: Eva Young!! 

Eva is a queen that is so immaculate that I want to cry in my crawl space. Look at that mug, absolutely perfect everytime. As well as outfits and accessories, coming together into a perfect ensemble. She is a Chicago queen (Chicago has some AMAZING as all hell queens) and maybe you’ll be lucky enough to catch her at Berlin or Roscoe’s Tavern! 

Follow Eva Young on instagram: @evayoung_


“Our feelings are swinging, so let’s turn them into a song! Until the encore is over, don’t take your eyes off of us, our hearts are swaying, so let’s start the music!”

Ensemble Stars graphic challenge → favourite unit is Ra*bits!

sidney crosby // interviews

warning: not smut, but definitely steamy/suggestive

who: sidney crosby x reader

premise: you and your boyfriend never get to spend time together so you are forced to make time…the only way you know how


The playoffs were coming up and your boyfriend of 1 year, Sidney Crosby, had been busy all week with the usual press that ensued at this time of the year. Just about every brand in the world seemingly wanted to strike some sort of deal with Sidney. From Monday till Friday, Sidney would get up early and lead practice with the team before heading off after to do some sort of photo shoot or press conference, getting home almost always after you were asleep.

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Got This Sin in Her Brain [Jerome Valeska x Reader]

Author’s Note: I would greet y’all a Happy Valentine’s Day since this is a Valentine’s Day fic, but… it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore lol. I did start writing it the day of, to be fair, but it took a while since I haven’t written prose lately (more poetry, for class) and by the time I finished it was past 1! Hope this is okay. I was liking it when I first started but as I gradually got more tired I wasn’t sure if what I wrote was even good haha.

Word Count: 2,417

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All Flared Up

LeighLoves the combo of the 70’s inspired Flared bottoms and the Blazer. Pairing both together gives this 70’s trend a really cool chic finish.
The silver chain adds a touch of glitz to the ensemble the perfect accessory to finish off the outfit!

Blazer- TopShop
Top- American Apparel
Trousers- Missguided
Body Chain- TopShop

Life or Death (Vamp!Hamilton x Male! Reader)

Words: 3800+

Request: Vampire Hamilton x Male!Reader

Warnings: forced courting, blood, 

A/N: hi, i got carried away, but here you go. enjoy me being extra without any spell check because im too lazy

Part 2

Hamilton wiped the corner of his lips, and placed his thumb in his mouth, licking the rest of the stray plasma off. He looked at the young woman on the ground, and grinned at the color leaving her body. He threw her over his shoulder, trying to find a spot to hide the body. He looked at the burning candles outside homes, enticing him to go and check to see what’s wrong. Instead, he forced his eyes away, searching for an open field. He spotted on, and ran, quickly making it there in a few seconds. He dug through the mulch with his bare hands, and threw the woman in the hole.

“You know, miss, your blood was quite bitter. Have you been drinking?” He said to the body, waiting for a response he was sure was not coming. He sighed, running his hands through his brown hair. “Will you not answer me? Fine, I will answer for you. Yes, you have, and yes, you should have listened to your father and stayed home tonight. It is a shame, you were a beautiful one.” He began kicking the dirt into the cavity, watching it cover her now blue cheeks.

“Too bad you were naïve. That is rather unattractive, you know. Men like a woman with intelligence.” He paused, “well, for certain some sort of reasonable thinking. Can’t have your partner running off with another, right?” He fully covered her body, and reached down, patting the dirt flat. “I am puzzled, though. You told me that someone was waiting for you at home. Yes, I was paying attention. Your screams are distracting, but I could tell what you were thinking. Now that, that was fascinating.”

There was yelling behind him, and he stood up, looking at torches approaching the field. He sighed, rubbing his face. “See, I told you to stop yelling. Now I must deal with townspeople chasing after me. What a shame.” Hamilton began to run, glancing back once at the bumpy dirt.

“Well, that is not inconspicuous at all.”


You cursed, spilling your ink jar on your work. “For the life of me, I cannot understand why my limbs are so ungainly.” You mumbled, reaching for an ink-stained towel that you kept next to you in your study. You pressed it on the table, waiting for the ink to seep into it. You heard your door open, and turned around, seeing your mother standing there.

“Good morning, mother. How are you?” She smiled, walking in. She placed a kiss on the top of your head, looking at the table.

 “I am well. But it seems like you are having an interesting morning. What have I told you about spilling the ink, Y/N? We cannot afford to continue to buy you one every fortnight. Please be careful son.”

“I know, but my arms seem to fling out whenever I come up with a new idea.” You looked at the piles of paper on your desk, then looking back at your mother. “I have not slept in a few days.” She frowned, hitting the top of your head with a rolled-up newspaper. You winced, leaning away from her.

“I will hit you once more if I see that you have not had a day’s rest. But for now, I have someone here for you.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and you groaned, placing your head on the desk. “Y/N, what are you doing? Did you forget about the ink?” You quickly picked your head up, and touched your forehead. You stared at your fingers, seeing the black.

You were such an imbecile.

“How am I supposed to show this young woman her suitor when you have a mark in the middle of your forehead?” She placed her fingers on her temple, rubbing it in circle motions. “You are going to be the death of me.” You grinned, jumping up from your chair. She widened her eyes at your quick movements, and you kissed her cheek, running your hands through your hair.

“This is the perfect ensemble for a courtship. I will meet with her promptly.” Before your mother could grab your arm, you were already out your door, sliding on the rail to get down the staircase quicker. Your momentum was too fast, and you immediately landed face down, the hardwood floor probably bruising your cheeks. “Perfect.” You whispered, satisfied with your decision.

You told your parents countless times that you would find love on your own. But they continued to insist that you court an eligible woman, someone who would carry the title of yours well. Of course, you could care less about how much money your partner would have, but they cared.

They cared immensely.

Since you could not convince them of your views, you made sure to meet your suitors with the worst manners and personality, making sure they would hate you to your core. And so far, it had been working well.

You walked into the parlor, a little wobbly. You saw the woman sitting there, wearing the finest silks and jewelry. You rolled your eyes at the attire, clearing your throat. She turned around, her gaze meeting yours. “Hi, miss,” You said, holding out your hand, “I am Y/N. A pleasure to be of acquaintance.” She placed her hand in yours, and you kissed it lightly. She took her hand out of yours immediately. You could tell she was disgusted at your outfit, and your stomach swelled with glee.

Step one: complete.

“Um, sir, do you need more time to get dressed? I can wait here.” She said, a sweet smile on her face. You felt guilty for treating her this way, but it needed to be done. You needed to teach your parents about how you felt.  

“Is there something wrong with my attire?” You glanced down at your clothes innocently, looking back at her. She shook her head.

“Ah, no, sir. You look handsome.” This time, she did not smile. “Would you like to dine here? My father has caterers that are on their way.”

“Well, Miss…” You waited for her name, and she blushed, looking at the ground.

“Oh, I apologize. I am Anna Vermont.” She said, smiling at you. You nodded.

“Yes, Anna. I was thinking that we should go to a nearby park. It would get us to connect more, without the stares of our parents. Do you agree?” She hesitated, and you heard stomping behind you. Fingers dug into the skin of your arm, and you looked down, seeing the anger on your mother’s face. You smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

She looked at you, fuming.

If this woman was not here, she would have killed you.

“I am sorry, Anna, but my son has not slept well in the last few nights, and he needs some rest. Do you mind if we postpone this visit for another time?” Anna nodded quickly, gathering her things off the furniture. She looked too eager to go, and you knew you were never going to see her again.

You grinned.

Mission accomplished.

“Yes, that would be best. Y/N, nice to meet you. I will see you soon.” She curtsied to the two of you, and you walked her to the door. Once the two of you were outside on the porch, she turned to you, a sneer on her face. “What a poor excuse for a man. You do not even know how to greet a lady properly. I am sorry for the maiden who seeks your hand in marriage.” You raised your eyebrow.

That was a quick change in personality.

“Sure, Anna. I hope you can find a man who tolerates a gossiping woman. I heard that you were spotted at a brothel recently. Do you have an excuse for being there?” You said, grinning.

“Excuse me, sir, but doesn’t that seem-“

“Have a wonderful day, Anna. I hope to never see you near me again.” You shut the door in her face, turning to see your livid mother standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. You gave her a cheesy grin, and she hit you with the same piece of paper. You pouted, holding your face. “Mother, you are going to damage this handsome face. Then no one will stand to look at me.”

“I cannot stand to look at you right now, Y/N. How dare you speak to that woman in such a manner? I know your father raised you better than that.” She said, “Do you not want to have a wife? Do you not want to have children, to pass the family name down? Is this why you are so troublesome?”

There was a multitude of questions thrown at you, and you frowned. “Mother, you know why I refuse to meet with these women. I want to fall in love on my own, and I cannot do that with a lady who enters the house to just collect my money and live a life of luxury. I want someone who cares about me, who wants to sit outside and gaze at the stars at night. Someone who loves this clumsy man, who would give up the world to be by my side. Is that too much to ask for? For someone to love me for who I am?” You questioned, and her stern expression relaxed, and she placed her hands back to her sides.

“Love is such a childish emotion, Y/N. You should live in the real world. I did not marry your father because I loved him, I married him because he was the one my parents wanted me to marry. And I grew to love him. You can do that too.”

“How can you tell me that? How can you tell me to learn to love someone? I cannot force myself to convey an emotion.”

“Then you will never be wed.” She stated simply. “Is that what you want your life to be? Staying as an angry old man without someone to sit in a rocking chair next to you?”

She was not listening to a word you were saying. Seeing that this fight would never be won by you, you nodded slowly. “I guess I might as well sit on a pile of money and use it to wipe my a-“

“Y/N, if that word comes out of your mouth-!” You ran past her, grabbing your satchel.

“I’ll be back soon, mother.” She was able to catch you this time, and she reached into her pocket, taking out a small glass bottle.

“Here, just in case you run into a vampire, toss salt on the ground. They will unable to resist counting each one.” You shook your head at her superstitious nature, but took the bottle anyway, tucking in in your front pocket. “I’m serious, Y/N. A woman was killed yesterday-”

“See you later. I’ll be home a few hours after nightfall.” She sighed.

“Be safe, my son. I’ll be waiting for you to get home.” She kissed your cheek, squeezing your hand. You did the same, running out the door.


Hamilton paced the sidewalks, looking at the groups of people walking down the blocks. He had his hands tucked in his slacks, scanning the crowd for his next victim. As he was distracted, a hard force hit the side of him. He stiffened, freezing in his spot. He looked to his side, seeing a man on the ground. He raised his eyebrow at the mark on his forehead. Why would anyone leave their house in such condition?

The man on the ground moaned, holding his head. He was lying back, staring at the sky. Hamilton stared at him. Why did he not get up yet?

After a few moments, the man struggled to get up, with no help from Hamilton. He jumped once, looking at Hamilton. He gave Hamilton a crooked smile, his hair a mess. “Sorry, I was distracted and I was running. Such a bad combination, don’t you agree?” The man said, rubbing the side of his head.

Hamilton stared at him, silent. There were many thoughts running through his mind, most filled with his need for the substance pumping in this man’s veins. The man’s scent was different from others, much sweeter and mouthwatering. The man coughed, noticing Hamilton’s gaze on his neck.

He found his next victim.

Hamilton smiled, holding out his hand.


“Alexander Hamilton. A pleasure to meet you.” The brown-haired man said, his eyes crinkling. You looked at the outstretched hand. Now he offered his hand to you?

You took it nonetheless, shaking it once. “Nice name. Very strong and masculine. Mine’s Y/N, my mother gave it to me.” You said, immediately regretting it. Goodness, your mother was right: talking and writing words were two very distinct things.

The man’s smile never left his face, and you could not help but notice how attractive he was. His face was well-structured, and his hands were soft. You blushed at the very crude images forming in your head. You tightened your eyes, forcing them out of your brain. You stared at the man. There was something off about him, especially the smile that has not left his face for the past minute or so.

You shrugged off your doubts, nodding at the man once. It was getting dark outside, and you needed to be home before your mother sent out search parties for you. “Well, I better be on my way. It is getting quite late, and I need to be home.”

Hamilton’s smile never left, but it turned into a smirk. “Ah, is your wife waiting?” He asked, and you noticed an edge to the statement. You shook your head at him, slowly walking forward.

“I’m not married, um, Alexander. And I only wish to be married to someone I love, not someone who is forced to marry me. How about you?” You asked, noticing that he began walking next to you. You tensed up.

“I was married, once. Her name was Eliza Schuyler. She died recently.” He said, leaking out some emotion with that statement. His face dropped when he said her name, but he shook out of it instantly, looking back at you. “It was a murder, someone killed her.” His fists tightened. “They staked her because they believed she was a vampire. How idiotic.”

You did not realize the way this conversation was going, and you regretted asking him about himself. Vampires? He sounded like your mother. It was not that he was not an interesting person, you just felt like you should run in the other direction. The street was empty, the two of you walking alone.

“I am sorry for your loss. Please send my condolences to you and yours. I better be on my way, Alexander. Nice to meet you.” You began jogging. After a few moments, you glanced back, noticing that he disappeared from the street. “Hmm, where did he go that fast?” You turned back, bumping into a man once more.

You face was throbbing, and you knew you would have bruises all over your body by tomorrow. You looked up from the ground, seeing Alexander in front of you. Your heart dropped.

Was he not just behind you? How did he get there so quickly?

“Ahh, Y/N. You did not let me finish my story. How can you leave before that?” His irises were pitch black, and you widened your eyes. What this man on some sort of substance? Was he sick?

“Are you okay, Alexander? You look pale and your eyes are dark. Would you like me to walk with you to the nearest hospital?” The smile on his face dropped, and his gaze flicked between your eyes, confusion on his face.

“I am fine. You should be concerned for yourself right now.” He grinned, showing sharp incisors protruding from his lips. You scrambled back, now terrified. You struggled to get off the ground, but finally did, hopping onto your feet. He walked slowly towards you, his hands behind his back. “You are a really interesting fellow, Mr. Y/N. Why aren’t you running? You know, the chase is always fun.” He winked at you, and you could have sworn you almost urinated.


“Um, hey! Officer!” You yelled, looking behind Hamilton. Hamilton whipped his head around, and you ran full speed, almost tripping over your own feet.


Hamilton turned back, seeing that the man was already a few hundred feet ahead of him. He grinned, licking his lips. He crouched down on the ground, touching the place where your blood dripped off a scratch. He rubbed it between his pinky and thumb, looking up at your retreating figure. He sniffed it once, then licked his digits, standing back up.

This will be fun. He thought.


You were panting, unable to run any further. You cursed at your body, looking for anywhere to hide. You noticed a pub that was open, and dragged yourself over. Before you could open the door, the ponytailed man stood in front of you, his arms crossed against his chest.

“You are a runner? Have you ran away from vampires before?”

You suddenly remembered the salt in your pocket, and took it out, throwing it on the ground. He widened his eyes, looking at you.

“Oh no. You sick human, you-“ He crouched down, unable to resist counting the grains of salt. You smiled, and you heard a chuckle come out of the man on the ground. He stood back up slowly, raising his eyebrow at you. “That is just folklore, my friend. And by the way, that makes no sense. Why would my weakness be salt? Did you try to bring garlic too? What about iron, do you have that in your bag?”

Even though you were in a life-or-death situation, you could not help the tone that came out of your mouth. “You are a really terrible being. Why are you so pompous? Are you going to kill me already? Because your talking might kill me instead.” Hamilton grabbed you by the neck, pulling you behind the cottage. He held you against the wall, the whites of his eyes now completely black. This time, you took him seriously, shivering.

He glanced down at your neck, and touched it softly. He gave you a sideways grin, his eyes still trained on your pulsing vein. “You know, you have the sweetest smelling blood. As long as I have been on this Earth, I have never smelled anything like yours.” His face moved closer to your neck, and he sniffed, licking the skin.

You shivered, and definitely felt some warm liquid come. Hold yourself together. You thought.

Hamilton laughed, moving away from your neck. “You know, I think I like you.”

“What are you even saying?” You said, and he tightened his hold on your neck, and you clawed at his hand, trying to pull him off. “Stop, Hamilton. You’re better than this.” You gasped through breaths. He stopped grinning, looking at you.

“I’m sorry, have you met me before? Were we acquaintances in a former life? I’m sure I would have remembered your face.” He stated.

“It does not matter if I met you or no-“ You coughed, your head becoming dizzy. You felt his grip on you loosen, and you took a deep breath. “Thank you.” You mumbled, looking at him. The dark color in his eyes was lowered, but he still had some left. You were amazed at what he could do.

Is this a dream?

“Do not thank me, Y/N. Tell me what you were going to say. I want to know before I end your life.” He said, glaring at you. You chortled, rolling your eyes at him. He frowned. “What is so funny?”

“You. You are trying to act like this robust, threatening figure, but you are not. I can see through you.” He slammed you against the wall once, but you continued talking. “You are lonely. Even the slightest affection towards you scares you, because you have never felt that before. Everyone in your life has hated you.” He held both of his hands around your neck, his hold still the same as before.

“Shut up.” He hissed, the black slowly leaving. You were unceasing, talking again.

“I could see it when I questioned if you were alright. You immediately jumped on that sentence, it puzzling you. You need someone to care about you, and for a second, you thought it was me.”

“Stop.” He grumbled, his hold loosening. You were glad that this speech was distracting him. His fangs were still there, peeking out from his top lip.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would have killed me a long time ago. Isn’t that right-“ His teeth sunk into your neck, piercing the delicate skin. You attempted to scream, but he covered your mouth with his hand, muffling the yelling. You were going cross-eyed, you barely able to keep them open. Your hands grew limp on their sides, and he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you closer towards him. Before you passed out, you whispered one last thing.

“There is someone out there who cares about you. You just need to find t-“ Your voice faded, and your head tilted to the side.


Hamilton retracted his lips from your neck, looking at your pale figure. He widened his eyes, feeling something leak out of them. He touched his eyeball, and squinted at the substance.

What was this? He rolled the liquid around, and tasted it. He frowned. Tears?

You were unconscious. Hamilton did not kill you, but he drained enough blood from you to keep you alive longer. He picked you up, carrying your body bridal style. As he walked towards the town, he examined your face. You were a handsome man, no doubt about that. But you were strange as well, the ink staining your forehead, and your clothes looked like you’ve slept in them. He found a bench, and laid you across, sitting down next to your head.

As he looked at your ragged breathing from the rising and falling of your chest, he wondered what it would be like to hug you. To touch you. You were kind, even when you thought you were going to die.

He snickered, running his hands through his hair. What have you done to him? He never saved anyone, always killed his victims.

But you, you were different.

You were funny, you were intelligent (to an extent, of course), you were friendly, and you listened to him when no one else would. And you were right.

Hamilton was lonely.

He stood up, placing your satchel under your head and pulling up your collar to cover the bite mark on your neck. It would disappear in a few minutes, but he had to make sure no one saw it until then.

He took one last look at you, and then walked away, disappearing into the night.


Could you write a post-breakup Imagine where the reader has been getting a lot of hate from Shawn’s fans since her breakup with Shawn and then they ran into each other at a party or an award show and the reader tried to stay away from Shawn not to get more hate but Shawn is being very sweet to her and ask if she’s okay and whatnot? Hope that makes sense lol. Thanks

A/N: Not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to request imagines guys, I’ll try my best to write them :) 

It had been weeks but the ache still hadn’t subsided. No amount of time or distraction seemed to be able to fill the gaping hole Shawn had left and the weight of it dragged her down every single day. Her friends had been there every day to keep her from disappearing into herself, inviting her out and planning sleepovers and movie nights. Every weekend had involved a night out; her friends dragged her to every club and bar the city had to offer. Even the pounding music and alcohol couldn’t completely wipe the memory of brown eyes and soft curls from her mind. But she’d gone anyway, throwing on a mini dress and heels and a face of makeup every time.

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EXTREMELY IMPORTANT INFORMATION: the most stylish and fashionable women in the Ace Attorney series are Lana and (adult) Ema, congratulations to the Skye sisters.

This is based on the fact that I would wear what they wear.

Day Fifty-Seven

-I was thoroughly underwhelmed and relieved by the amount of customers we had last night when we opened the doors. Unfortunately, the real Black Friday shoppers apparently decided to wait until today to come in en masse, and it was more terrifying than I had ever imagined. Thankfully this did not stop Cat Lady from coming in four separate times during my shift without making a single purchase.

-A woman attempted to specify to me which items she wanted a gift receipt for. I would ask, “All of it?” She would reply, “No, just these,” gesturing to everything. This cycle went on for an entire minute at which point we finally reached the understanding that she did in fact want a gift receipt for everything.

-A gaggle of elderly guests shouted from a location I could not determine, repeating, “Excuse me. Excuse me.” in what was simultaneously a whisper and a shout. While it may be later than they would have hoped, I would now like to formally excuse them from all that they could have been asking for.

-Far too many people have come through the store treating Black Friday as a sport, seeing who can sacrifice the most manners to attain the most savings. The winner is whoever spends the least money while purchasing the most stuff. The loser, their cashiers.

-An older woman purchased $150 of Pokemon cards, but at no point did she mention any gift receipts or anything about presents at all. I hope this means that she is working her way towards being the best that there ever was and establishing that Pokemon trainers can, in fact, age past ten years.

-A woman in her sixties purchased Cards Against Humanity along with several expansions. Whether she is entirely unaware of what the game holds in store for her or entirely aware of what is to come, I want nothing more out of my life than to be the Czar.

-The only genuine winners of Black Friday are the two amazingly polite dads who came through with their toddlers in hand, boasting to each other of how much they saved on their kitchen appliances.

-I watched on in confusion and terror as a woman deliberately passed up dozens of smaller bills, one at a time, to ultimately draw out a $100 bill to pay for her $11 purchase. If her goal was to prove herself the highest of rollers in the store at the time, she accomplished this with flair.

-A sweet old woman entered my lane, a mysteriously goatee-shaped bandaid on her chin, pristine white gloves on her hands, a gray sweater with the hood altered to function as a cape perfecting her ensemble. I want her to adopt me as soon as we can both fit it into our schedule, or at least sign her as my fashion consultant and see if I can commission a cape-hooded hoodie from her.

-I handed a young girl the book she had so eagerly purchased. She excitedly took it and ran to the end of the lane as her parents continued the transaction and began to read the story aloud to all within earshot. She spun the tale of the two kittens with such passion that I was left wanting more than another chapter as the family left the store.

-I was greeted by a mother-daughter shopping duo who had also come through my lane the previous night. They were passionate about their savings, but equally concerned with my well-being and lack of sleep. If I had the energy, I would have wept a single tear as they walked away, leaving me behind to watch the closest things I had to friends in this shift attain the freedom I so dearly desired.

-”You have incredible hair,” a bald man told me wistfully, eyeing my unreasonably thick brown mop. The sadness in his eyes made me consider cutting off a lock to hand to him, but I thought better of it, lest we enter a giving-a-mouse-a-cookie style scenario.

-An elderly woman placed her bills down on the conveyor belt one by one to count them out. I picked them up as she placed down the first couple to ensure they were not swept under the belt. I gestured for her to place them in my hand rather than on the moving surface. Instead, she took this as a challenge, throwing her money across the counter, avoiding my hand as best as she could, cackling to herself as I made a mad dash to pick up each. I never expected this sort of chaotic evil to come from such a frail body, but I have learned my lesson. I will never underestimate a potential nemesis again.

-As I was walking towards the guest services counter, I passed a shrieking baby and a mother desperate to soothe him. I happened to have a strip of stickers in my pocket and, before thinking about it, swooped in to hand them to the child. They immediately ceased the crying and the mother shouted her thanks as I walked away. I am now a gracious sticker fairy and I will pursue this new path wholeheartedly.

-The information that I used to work at Forever 21 has leaked to the management, and I became the subject of a battle between a front end manager and a soft lines manager. I believe soft lines won out in the end and I may have been brought into a new line of work.

-A father attempted to heckle me, asking if I would accept his Kohl’s cash. I turned the tables on the man, telling him that I would gladly take it, but it would not lower his total at all. His family found this hilarious, laughing at him uproariously as he pouted to himself after being roasted so severely. Let this be a lesson to all cashier-hecklers: we are doing our best and our jobs are hard enough and some of us cope with humor and sometimes you will get brutally burned.

anonymous asked:

hey also friend!!!! prompt for malec: one wears the others clothing a lot and the other notices and has a hard time not getting hot and bothered.... smut please man i love you btw :)

remember when i wrote smut all of the time…, i am Very out of practice! yikes (anyways im sorry for taking 5 years to answer this prompt i hope you’re doing swell friend)


Before Alec met Magnus, he had never given much thought to fashion. He wore clothes based on how well they fit him and if they were comfortable. It never bothered him that his closets’ inventory was an unexciting congregation of blacks and grays. It never bothered him that his clothes more often than not sported a hole or two.

When it came to knowing Magnus and knowing his clothes, Alec was reduced to a state of affectionate annoyance and reluctant acknowledgement for many reasons; one being that they reminded him of how poor he dressed in comparison, a second being that Magnus almost always made them late to meetings because he needed to pick out the perfect ensemble, and a third being that Magnus’s clothes could be incredibly hard to take off.

Just last night Alec had come home from a long night of work, full of the adrenaline that came with dancing with death for hours on end. Dutiful and domestic as he liked to pretend to be, Magnus had jumped up from his spot on the couch and padded over to Alec for a welcome home kiss.

Before Magnus could pull away, though, Alec had him pushed against the wall and held there with bruising teeth and needy hands. Alec shed his gear easily between kisses, his fingers undoing clasps and buckles in rapid succession due to lifelong practice.

Alec remembered running his hands down Magnus’s waist, meaning to pull the hem of his shirt up. Some attachment at the shirts hem had forbidden that, so Alec moved up to tug at buttons that he couldn’t find.

He’d cursed, his hands fumbling, and Magnus had laughed and snapped his fingers. The shirt fell away in a cascade of blue sparks. He’d slid a hand down Alec’s pants and murmured, problem solved.

Magnus’s clothes weren’t that much of a problem, considering once the strange shirt was out of the way Alec discarded the rest without difficulty, but still…

He hadn’t been able to take off his boyfriends shirt.

Magnus was out all day with numerous clients, so Alec spent most of the day on the couch, making his way through a list of animated movies Magnus had left for him on days like this; between movies, he moped around the apartment and complained to Chairman Meow.

He couldn’t help himself, and the innocent kids movies didn’t distract him either; he’d been thinking about undressing Magnus all day. It definitely wouldn’t help to prepare him at all for whatever Magnus came home wearing. Probably it had a flashy security system on the belt buckle that could only be opened with a password, capital lettered and numeral inclusive.

Alec didn’t plan on falling asleep and didn’t remember doing so. He woke with a start to the shutting of the door; he knew Magnus always tried to be quiet, but a lifetime spent always being on alert made Alec an incredibly light sleeper. He closed his eyes, pretending Magnus hadn’t disturbed him, and waited.

Magnus was at his side just moments later. Alec smelled him before he heard him, and he tried not to smile. A hand on Alec’s shoulder gently shook him. Magnus leaned over him, brushed his hair out of his face, kissed him on the forehead, and murmured, “Hey, Alexander. Sleepyhead, wakeup.”

Alec made what he hoped passed for a realistic waking up noise and blinked his eyes open. He scrubbed a hand over them with a heavy sigh, then looked up at Magnus and smiled.

Magnus toed his shoes off and kicked them in the general direction of the kitchen. “Good morning,” he said. “Want me to take you to bed? You fit better there.”

The loft was dark, only illuminated by silvery moonlight that filtered in through the windows and by the few overhead lights Magnus had turned on.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Alec muttered. Jerking awake had hyped up his adrenaline, but with no present danger that was crashing and he felt tiredness settle over him again.

The Chairman mewled from somewhere out of sight and a second later he was weaving in and out of Magnus’s legs. Magnus scooped the cat up into his arms and stroked him to a loud chorus of purring.

Magnus waved behind himself at the tv, which was still on and playing end credits. “You guys watched ‘The Little Mermaid’?”

“The Chairman did,” Alec said. At length he added, “mostly.”

Magnus laughed. He set the cat down and waved at the tv, making it shut off and reflect blue sparks. Magnus wiped
cat hair off his chest and Alec noticed the hoodie he was wearing.

His hoodie.

Adrenaline hit Alec like a drug shot into his system, but instead of throwing him into immediate fight or flight mode, it just made his stomach twist. He was sure that he would be swaying if he had been standing.

Alec swallowed past the sudden dryness of his throat. “You’re wearing my hoodie,” He said.

Magnus nodded solemnly. He twirled the hoodie string around his finger and shrugged. “It’s new fashion,” he said. “Hobo dumpster-diving chic. Everyone will be wearing it soon.”

Alec couldn’t explain to himself why it had such a strong and immediate effect on him. He could barely make himself ask, “Did you- did you wear that today?”

Magnus nodded and ran a hand through his deflated hair. “And I still got paid handsomely. A demon I know well made some rude comments, like, ‘Hey, warlock, I guess you’ve been letting yourself go this past century’ but that’s just the way he is. He might of been annoyed that I called him from hell just to make him lift a curse from a mundane nursing home, but still, it wasn’t professional.”

“Right,” Alec said. He dropped his gaze to the hem of the hoodie, where it had ridden up against Magnus’s jeans to expose a strip of dark skin. Just one pull, Alec knew, and the hoodie would be off. So easy.

Plus, Magnus looked adorable. If the hoodie looked baggy on Alec that was nothing compared to how it hung off Magnus’s lanky frame. The hood bunched up around his neck, trapping his dark hair there and making stray strands stick up with static. His thin shoulders looked nonexistent under the folds of it, and the sleeves fell to his nails, barely showing the onyx paint decorating them.

The longer Alec looked at him the more unsure he was he wanted the hoodie on the floor.

Alec met Magnus’s eyes. The thin shape of them told him Magnus was holding back a smile. Underneath them his makeup was smudged with shimmering gold shadow and liner that matched his nails; that paired with the slight blush high on his cheeks made his face look like an otherworldly sunset.

Magnus didn’t say anything. He just watched Alec study him and stood there, waiting for a reaction.

Alec made an impatient noise, indecisive. He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “Come here,” he finally said.

Magnus grinned like he’d won something and sat in front of Alec, one leg straddling the couches’ edge, the other bent and pushed into the back cushions. He curled a hand over the back of Alec’s neck and leaned over him, and Alec could feel his grin in the kiss.

“Hey, Alexander,” Magnus said, smelling of sandalwood and the burnt sugar of magic, and smelling like Alec.

Alec leaned away so that he could think clearly. “Are you comfortable?” he asked, because he was genuinely concerned and because he couldn’t not address Magnus’s choice of clothing further.

Magnus hummed an affirmation and leaned in, and this time Alec met him halfway.

“But,” Magnus said, pushing Alec’s knees down and moving more solidly into his lap, “it is getting a bit hot all of the sudden.”

“Oh?” Was all Alec managed, before abandoning the effort it took to speak in favor of kissing Magnus. With one hand on his throat he held Magnus to his mouth; he slid the other down to his back.

His skin was warmer than usual, almost fever-hot. Alec gripped him more firmly and bit down on Magnus’s lip, and Magnus took the hint. He pushed Alec down so that he was underneath him, with one thigh between Alec’s legs for him to rub against.

Alec did, letting out a small gasp, and Magnus pressed down on and against him, needy for a louder reaction. Magnus drug his hands up Alec’s chest, tracing his abs and the lines of his ribs, the rings he wore a cold shock amidst the welcome warmth of his skin. He tugged at Alec’s shirt in question and Alec barely finished sighing a “yes” before Magnus dropped it to the floor.

Magnus fell back on his knees, meaning to take Alec’s hoodie off, but Alec stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“What is it?” Magnus asked, voice just a little unsteady.

“It’s just,” Alec said wistfully, raking his eyes over Magnus in his hoodie, rumpled and flushed and adorable, “you look really cute in that.”

“I’ll wear it everyday this week, okay?”

Alec laughed and yanked on a hoodie string, once, like he was ringing a bell. “Deal. Take it off.”

The hoodie joined Alec’s shirt on the floor and Magnus immediately leaned over Alec, planting kisses from just above his pants line to his throat. Alec twisted his fingers in Magnus’s hair and tugged, asking for more, more. Magnus obliged by biting up and down Alec’s throat, making him gasp and keen to his mouth.

Alec slid his hand from Magnus’s back to the front of his jeans, which thankfully weren’t password protected. They were tight, though, and that was enough to make unbuttoning them difficult.

He pushed them down along with the underwear to the middle of Magnus’s thighs and took Magnus into his hand. He flicked his thumb over the head and smeared pre-cum down the length of the shaft.

Magnus let out a shallow breath. He bit into Alec’s neck, “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Here’s fine,” Alec said, slowly working Magnus in his hand. His stomach twisted with gratification at Magnus’s insistent buck into his hand.

“If I’d known you have a hoodie kink I would of started wearing your clothes forever ago,” Magnus murmured, biting and kissing across Alec’s jaw to his mouth.

Alec quieted him with a bruising kiss and twist of his hand.

Magnus kissed him, hard and increasingly distracted as Alec quickly undid him. Just as he was about to come - Alec could tell by his sudden tenseness, how the only part of him that moved was his mouth on Alec’s and his seizing lungs - he growled into Alec’s mouth, “Hands off.”

Alec obeyed immediately, knowing this game they played.

Magnus began kissing down his chest, biting and leaving clear marks every time Alec breathed. “Put them behind your head,” he said. He fingered the waistline of Alec’s sweatpants, scraping nails making Alec shiver. “Don’t move them until I say you can.”

Alec interlaced his fingers and braced his hands against the back of his neck. He let out a low, shattering breath as Magnus yanked his sweats and briefs down. “I won’t.”

Magnus kept kissing along his waist, paying special attention to the dip of his hips and the muscled v-line running a adjacent to them and ignoring his cock entirely.

Alec watched him, struggling to keep his hands where Magnus had told him. Bent over like this and kneeling between Alec’s thighs, Magnus’s face was mostly hidden by his mussed hair, but Alec could see the hard lines of his shoulders, the graceful curve of his back, and the varying visibility of his ribs as he breathed.

Magnus spread Alec’s thighs apart, hands gentle on them, and kissed the sensitive inner span of them. At Alec’s whimper, he put one hand to Alec’s mouth - already open with panting - and traced the line of his lips with his finger. “Suck on them,” Magnus said.

Alec didn’t need to be told twice. He sucked two of Magnus’s fingers into his mouth, keeping his teeth away like he would when blowing him. Magnus pushed a third in, and Alec closed his eyes and moaned, knowing it would make him more impatient.

“Fuck,” Magnus said, pulling his hand away. “You look so good when you do that, you know?” He spit onto his fingers for good measure and asked, breathless, “Okay?”

Alec nodded. Magnus held his gaze for a moment, eyes blown out and wild, and a maddening grin spread across his face. Alec dug his fingers into his own neck as Magnus pushed one finger inside him.

Magnus laid his face on Alec’s thigh and began to move his finger in and out, and even though Alec shut his eyes and threw his head back he knew Magnus was watching him.

“Two fingers?” Alec asked, desperate for more of Magnus’s hands, for more of him.

“Be patient,” Magnus murmured. He didn’t say, *Not until you beg,* but Alec heard it in his tone.

“Please, Magnus,” Alec said, letting the ache he felt fill his voice. “Please give me more, you do that-” Magnus curled his finger just right, cutting off Alec’s breath. “Do that so well,” Alec managed.

Magnus’s silence wasn’t an answer, exactly, but Alec didn’t open his eyes or lift his head. He waited, obedient and pliant and unmoving, and with a tender kiss to Alec’s thigh Magnus worked a second finger in.

Alec closed his mouth so he wouldn’t moan, but a soft sound escaped him anyway. Magnus grazed his teeth up Alec’s thigh and sucked on it, and Alec shuddered. Magnus pumped his fingers in and out, increasing speed with every gasp or moan that Alec couldn’t hold back.

Alec opened his mouth to ask, but Magnus was already saying, “Ready for three?”

Alec mumbled, “Yes,” completely aware that he was hardly coherent. At Magnus’s hesitation, he ground down on his fingers and dug his nails into the head of the couch.

Magnus laid a forearm across Alec’s hips, holding him down, and pushed three fingers in. He slowly pushed all the way in to the knuckles, curling his fingers just so and pulling back when Alec shook.
He pushed in again, and out, harder and faster, driving with his wrist perfectly, twisting it at just the right moment. Alec couldn’t push for more himself because of his restraint; if he really tried he could overpower Magnus’s hold over him, but he would rather let Magnus do what he wanted.

Pleasure burned under his skin and coiled in his stomach, igniting every vein and making every synapse struggle to process thought. He felt sweat bead on his forehead, and felt the heat of Magnus’s flushed cheek on his thigh.

Magnus slowed his hand, paying attention to how he twisted and curled his fingers inside of Alec instead of how fast he went. With no warning, he pulled his fingers out so that they were barely there; they were barely teasing.

“By the Angel,” Alec gasped, arching his back as much as he could so his weight was on Magnus’s fingers. Somehow Magnus still held back, letting Alec feel only what he allowed.

Magnus’s hands left Alec completely, and Alec tried to clear his drunken mind at the sound of Magnus’s buckle hitting the floor. A second after was a snap and the crinkling of plastic.

Magnus nosed into the underside of Alec’s jaw. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice all heat. “Right here, hard and quick? Maybe after I’ll throw you in the shower and fuck you again. You want that?”

“Yes Mags, God,” Alec could barely hear himself over his unstable breaths and pounding heart. “I want it. So bad, please-”

Magnus hiked Alec’s thighs up on either side of his. “You can have your hands back,” he said against Alec’s neck, and slowly pushed into him.

Alec grabbed at Magnus’s back, his hands hot and stiff from being held so still and being strained against. Alec rolled his hips up to feel Magnus fully, and Magnus stifled a groan against his neck.

“You’re so good,” Alec told him, lovingly petting his back and neck. He ran a hand through Magnus’s hair and pushed the sweaty strands away from his eyes. “You feel so good.”

Magnus leveraged himself with one hand on Alec’s shoulder and the other on the head of the couch and thrusted into him, hard and without rhythm. Alec twisted the fingers of one hand into Magnus’s hair and dug into his back with the other. He pulled Magnus flush against him, bare chest to bare chest, Magnus’s lips to Alec’s throat, Alec’s head turned to Magnus, his lips on Magnus’s temple.

Alec arched off the bed and crossed an ankle over the small of Magnus’s back, driving him in deeper. Magnus found a rhythm but didn’t slow, using the couch to hold himself and Alec’s shoulder to move them both. He sucked and bit into Alec’s neck with every frantic snap of his hips, every part of him hot and heavy and burning.

The smell of sugar hung between them.

Alec could feel it around Magnus, in his skin, and he felt the moment Magnus lost control of it. His magic. Free of Magnus’s conscious hold, his magic wrapped around Alec and sunk into his skin, intensifying every shudder and jolt of pleasure in his body. It made him feel light and strange.

When Magnus’s magic enveloped them, they became one unit. Alec dug his nails into Magnus’s skin and felt the same pain somewhere in his legs; Magnus bit his throat and hissed to himself.

Magnus kissed Alec on the lips, feather light and barely there, and the sweet warmth of his breath poured down Alec’s throat. Alec slid his thumb along Magnus’s cheekbone and kissed him, lips heavy and tongue teasing.

He could feel himself tightening like a coil. He felt like a star about to recreate itself.

“Harder,” Alec said, “I’m about to-”

“I know,” Magnus said softly, and he met Alec’s eyes. Alec could see magic roiling in Magnus’s eyes, and he could see his own reflected doing the same. “Me too.”

Alec ran his fingers down the groove of Magnus’s spine and along the rise of his muscles, nails raking, his hand becoming slower and less coordinated with every rocking motion of Magnus’s body against his.

Their breaths caught at the same moment on each other’s mouths. Magnus rolled his hips once, twice, and the last of Alec’s control was used to clutch him closer as they both fell apart. Alec’s vision blurred as his heart tried to restart. He was barely able to hear Magnus’s quiet moan at his ear in his daze.

Magnus collapsed on top of him, shaking, and continued to undo Alec with his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the underside of Alec’s jaw, his shattering breaths raising chills on Alec’s skin, and did his best to love every inch of Alec’s skin until their hearts slowed.

“By the Angel,” Alec breathed, “You’re amazing.”

Magnus rolled so that he was laying on the outer side of the couch and threw an arm over Alec’s hip. “It was the hoodie,” he said. He ran a thoughtless hand up and down Alec’s back.

Alec laughed. “It was, it definitely was.”

Magnus tucked a strand of Alec’s hair behind his ear and kissed him on the nose. “Shower?” he asked.

Alec gestured helplessly at his shaking legs. “I’m not sure I can walk.”

Magnus grinned. “I’ll carry you.”


Have a random (unedited, unrefined) excerpt from a story I started but am never going to finish. (Set during the Rebellion.)

Han tugged at his collar and grimaced. “I don’t know how Lando wears this stuff.”

Luke shot a look at the Corellian, and unconsciously smoothed his own borrowed outfit. Neither of them had owned anything remotely appropriate for this mission and, shaking his head in consternation, Calrissian had generously allowed them to raid his closet. Personally, Luke thought they both looked as ridiculous as they felt in the fine, colorful silks and capes, but Leia and Lando had insisted the ensembles were perfect for two wealthy businessmen on a professional trip to Thracla.

Chewie and Artoo remained with the Falcon at the spaceport, and Luke almost wished he were with them instead of casually approaching the door of the lush private club where they’d been instructed to meet their contact. He reminded himself to keep a good attitude. Leia had been incredibly miffed at not being able to go, and relented only when he’d promised to relay everything back to her in exquisite detail when they got back.

Uncomfortable in their borrowed finery or not, both men slipped into character easily as they closed the final distance and stepped into the plush lobby. Decorated in rich reds and royal blues, with a scattering of velvet couches and deep leather chairs, the club dripped sophistication. Luke felt instantly out of his depth; forcibly suppressing the feeling, he pasted a look of polite mild interest on his face and followed Han to the concierge counter.

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