Summary: There’s something romantic about passing notes on a plane.
Word Count: 1,450
Warnings: Alcohol mention
A/N: I’m gonna be on various flights all week and what better way to pass the time than daydream up various situations like this? Told in Lin’s perspective! Ignore the fact that the flight attendants were assisting guests from back to front. ____________________________
Lin was convinced he had forgotten the entire English language with how difficult it was proving to be to write something as simple as an email. It wasn’t even an email about anything substantial, Disney was just wanting him to plan his next meeting before the wheels of his plane were even off the ground, as per usual. He normally would have no problem scheduling it but they needed him to head this next one so the animators could get down first draft sketches for his song, a song he had yet to finish, and they needed a proposal by tomorrow morning.
‘Boarding Priority Access and Families’ the sign blinked and Lin gave up, shoving his phone into his pocket. It was the first time he had looked up from his phone since he had passed through security forty minutes ago when he met your eyes, he blinked in shock. The colors in your eyes danced in the sunlight as you offered him a soft smile before your eyes flitted onto the next thing that was lucky enough to capture your attention.
Okay, so when they said fly to Barcelona I was all in for it. That
was until I realized I was scared of heights. The limo my Godparents
hired was so nice I forgot about my silly little fear, that was until
I was in the air staring at clouds and the guy next to me was snoring
his ass off with no remorse for my poor ears. What the hell was I
thinking? Maybe I am being a little melodramatic. The trip itself was
little over eight hours with 2 plane swaps. I am just freaking out
because the kid behind me on the second plane was yelling “but
mommy I told you in my dream we’re going to crash and die! I don’t
wanna fly!!”) followed by his very loud and obnoxious tears. It
would be one thing if this was a little, little kid, but this looked
to be a 15 year old and it was clear he was only doing it to piss his
mom off; because he calmed down when she bribed him with a twenty
dollar bill and anything that he wanted from his shop of choice when
we landed. If it was up to me he’d be looking for a new pair of pants
after I beat his off of him.
So by the time we landed in Barcelona it was safe to say I had jet
lag, I hated airplanes and I was scared as all hell that Marco was
going to be some woman killer with great hair. As I waited to claim
my bag I felt someone press against me and wrap his arms around my
waist. “What the fu—!” I stiffened up and turned around to see
the prettiest brown eyes staring into mine. I mean I felt my panties
turn to mush as this tall, sexy man smiled down at me. “I take it
you’re Rosa Lee then?” He said with a bit of an Hispanic accent. I
nearly came in my pants if I didn’t think he’d feel me shudder. The
only thing I could do was nod as he chuckled. He released me and
leaned down into my ear, “I am Marco and I am very pleased to meet
Pleased my ass, this man was one step from me bending over this
conveyor belt and begging for him to do things to me I have never
heard of. I mean, I thought he would be attractive but I didn’t
expect this man to look like he belong on mount Olympus next to Zeus
drinking coffee with a toga on. I mean Marco was just like I took my
coffee, dark with a splash of creamer and piping hot. Marco asked me
what bags were mine and I couldn’t talk, my whole fucking mouth felt
like it was filled with sandpaper and I just could point to it when
it rolled to us. He grabbed that and my bags and ushered me out front
where he had a Renault Megane waiting for us. He put my bags in the
car’s back seat and opened my door for me. As I slid into the car all
I could think about was, “wow this man is just so different from
As he drove, we did not speak nor did Marco turn on the radio. I
was so immersed in the city around me I wouldn’t have needed any of
those things anyways. It was like I was reading a book and imagining
all the colors around me. Everything looked so beautiful, I had to
pinch myself to make sure it was not a dream. Then he pulls in front
of this gigantic building and I felt my mouth drop. “This place
must have a 100 floors.”
“Unfortunately not, sweetheart it only has forty-four floors.
But I hear the forty-third floor offers an spa, so maybe we can
check that out.”
At that point I didn’t even know I had spoken, but it was like I
was being pulled toward him more and more. I know that the point of
being a sugar baby wasn’t to fall in love so no it wasn’t love at
first sight with me. It was like I want to screw his brains out for
being so nice to me, even though he doesn’t have to. As I look up at
the building he pulls over and climbs out the car. I was astonished
when he opened my door. “Are we staying here?”
“Yes, we will be staying at Hotel Arts Barcelona. My mama always
told me a beautiful woman will always want to be surrounded with
With that he took my hand and went to the valet and placed the car
keys in his hand and told him he wants the bags in the back seat sent
up to the presidential suite. I almost double looked at him but I
could already feel him struggling not to laugh at my doe like
expression at all of this beauty. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty
Woman, minus the prostitution…Well hopefully this doesn’t count as
prostitution.. and that bad wig in the beginning. As we traveled
through the lobby, I realized this had to be some architects wet
dream, like from the floor to chandelier couldn’t even be described
without someone thinking I was lying. It was like walking into the
royal palace for me and all around me people were talking and
laughing, dressed in clothes by people I couldn’t even pronounce and
I just felt plain. Seeing the look on my face Marco walked me over to
the front desk where this woman was speaking spanish like she was a
word ninja or something.
I felt like she kicked me in the face with words when she was on
the phone. I mean how the heck was the person she was on the phone
with supposed to talk to her when she sounded as if she were at an
auction house. But when she saw Marco she instantly excused herself
from the conversation, and hung up and looked up at Marco like he was
something good to eat.
“How may I help you Senyor Harris?” She said with an accent so
thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Anais, my girlfriend just arrived from the states and she will
be staying with me, can you please get her a key card.”
“Of course, Senyor Harris. She
is..How do you say it? És
una ballarina? Em pregunto perquè ella es veu tan elegant.”
shook his head and laughed as she made my key. My cheeks burned
because I had no idea what was said and I felt as if I didn’t belong
here because of it. Marco leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Anais
wanted to know if you were a dancer, it seems I am not the only one
who thinks you look graceful my dear.” If I was blushing before,
now I was as red as a tomato. I looked at Anais and mumbled out an
embarrassed thank you. She looked back at me curiously before handing
me a key card and Marco ushering me away to the elevators. As he
pushed the up arrow on the side of the gold doors I turned to him and
smiled. “Which floor are we?”
started to laugh again and this time I looked at him confused,
obviously he was enjoying his own joke and I haven’t seem to catch on
yet, so of course I repeated my question, which made him laugh
harder. When he finally calmed down and he finished with his inside
joke he cleared his throat and said “the 42nd
floor” As the elevators opened and I looked at him like he grew a
floor is where we’re staying, why that far up?”
looked at me like he was about to start laughing again and on my
first day as a sugar baby, it was taking every ounce of energy not to
slap the fuck out of Marco.
I DISCOVERED YOUR BLOG TODAY AND I LOVE IT. You are so funny and cute. Do you have any other blog recommendations that you think I would love if I love your blog? Thank you you are so amazing
Oh, flattery will get you everywhere, darling. Excuse me whilst I just nurse my inflated ego.
This post is really just going to get very ‘Old Boys Club’ with me name dropping who I’ve been chatting to lately, so my real advise is just browse around the ACOTAR tags and such and follow people who make posts that make you lol. At least, that’s mainly my tactic.
Summary: In which Phil is aromantic and he’s desperate for someone to understand.
Warnings: A lot of ignorance towards aromantic people, swearing, platonic phan (kind of??), mentions of sex, etc.
Word Count: 2544
A/N: I really wanted to try something different so I hope you guys like this?? I tried really hard so hopefully it doesn’t suck too bad. And if any of this seems inaccurate please tell me. Okay, thanks so much! Enjoy!! x
When you come back from work with bruises - KBTBB Headcannon
Ever had one of those days where all you seem to be able to do right is hurt yourself repeatedly? I had one of those days recently so thought I would do a head canon on that, since seems like no one has one of those. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry taking a little break from Lupin’s Stolen heart)
Prologue- After a day of just seeming to hurt yourself while working you head home and through yourself on the couch after taking a couple pain pills. You just sit there admiring your bruises and wonder what would happen if you show it to your fiancé. You think against it and go to your shared bedroom and start pulling out clothes that would hide the couple bruises on your arms and legs. Unknowingly said fiancé is coming into the bedroom and notices the prominent bruises.
Eisuke- He walks over and grabs your wrist in a vice grip. “What happened to you? Did something happen at work? I will fire Kisaki if he let you get hurt so obviously at work.” He barely lets you get a word in as he lets go of your wrist and brings out his cellphone obviously to call Kisaki. You stop him by lightly putting your hand on his arm. “It’s fine, it’s my own fault for being clumsy today.”
He looks over and puts his phone away “And how many times have I told you to be careful?” You just shrug and laugh. He shakes his head and grabs your shoulders “I do not want a mark on you’re body. None that I haven’t made anyways” He says with his usual cocky grin making you blush “It’s fine, it’ll heal anyways.” He picks you up taking you to the bed “In the meantime guess I’ll give you different marks to think of” He grins making you blush.
Soryu- He walks over looking you over quietly. “Are you ok _____?” You jump and look over and nod “I’m fine, just had a clumsy day at work.” He nods “Good, if someone have hurt you” He growls ready to put his hand on his gun. He stops as you take his hand in yours and smiles “And I love you for willing to protect me but I promise, this time it’s all my own fault.”
He smiles and nods gripping your hand a bit tighter. “You sure you’re fine?” You laugh and nod “I’m sure, already took some pain pills and was just going to change into something to hide my bruises” He shakes his head and runs a hand through your hair softly “No reason to hide anything, you are perfect. Bruises an all, just shows how strong you are” You blush and hug him and he hugs you back making you feel loved.
It isn’t Sansa’s fault. She isn’t certain of much at the moment, but, “It is not my fault.”
And really, wasn’t it just like Jon to get upset over the most trivial of things. She was a highborn lady. She deserved lovely things in her life.
“Sansa,” Jon grumped at her - at her! “How much have you had to drink?”
“Pft, only a little,” Sansa used both hands to wave aside Jon’s concern, measuring out what she was sure would seem a goblet sized amount from Jon’s perspective. She’s not sure she succeeded, because Jon’s face has gone from broodingly concerned to mostly alarmed.
“Sansa,” Jon started again, and Sansa just knew that whatever Jon was going to say next was going to be boring.
“I like for things to be pretty! Is that so wrong?”
“No, Sansa. It’s just that -”
“I like flowers and butterflies, and pretty dresses and pretty songs and pretty words. And it’s not stupid. I know everyone is always saying that it is stupid, that I’m just a stupid little girl…”
“No one is saying that you’re stupid. Sansa -”
“And I’m not! I can be brave and fierce, and I’ve survived and I deserve pretty things. And I deserve to be happy, and pretty things make me happy, and -”
“Sansa, I want you to be happy!”
“- and don’t think that you can make feel bad about this because Ghost wanted to be pretty too!”
And Ghost was pretty. He had such silky white fur, if only Jon would brush him more. And even his red eyes, which Sansa had found unnerving as child, were terrifyingly beautiful.
Jon’s lips were all tilted up in that stupid half smile of his. “He’s the prettiest direwolf in all the land. Now Sansa -”
“Don’t Sansa me! You’re making fun!” Sansa overbalanced as she went to stomp her foot, and her flower crown tipped and her drink spilled, and for a moment everything was awful.
Then Sansa licked at the beaded trail of the sour goat’s milk on her fingers and down her wrist, and somehow Jon had gotten close enough to right her flower crown, and maybe things weren’t so bad after all.
“I thought Ghost would want to feel pretty is all. You don’t need to be so broody and grumpy about it,” Sansa declared, because she was the Queen of Flowers tonight and no King of the North would take that from her like a goblet of - wait. “That’s mine!”
Jon sniffed at his stolen drink, before taking a quick sip. “This is a Free Folk drink.”
“Of course it is. Tormund gave it me,” Really Jon could be so dense.
“Why - why was Tormund giving you -”
“Because I asked him for it!” Honestly.
“Why would you want -”
“I wanted something stronger than wine, and I asked Tormund if he had anything and he did. And he gave me a skin filled with this sour goat’s milk, and I had some and after the first little bit I liked it so I had some more.”
“I thought you were pleased when Manderly brought some good Dornish vintages with him.” Jon just didn’t get it. He was hopeless.
“It’s because people are always giving me things!”
“Yes. Because you’re Sansa and the Lady of Winterfell.”
“… I thought you liked pretty things.”
“I do. Honestly Jon, what does that have to do with anything?”
The look on Jon’s face was sublimely frustrated. Good. “Why does the gift of pretty things make you upset enough to get this drunk?”
“I’m not drunk. I am barely inebriated Jon Snow. Please and thank you,” Sansa said pointedly, and then poked him the chest with her still drink-less hand. “Your Grace.”
“Sansa -” Really, why was he being so stubborn about this?
“They give me stupid things! Stupid and useless pretty things. And they give you food for the larder, and men to fight wars with, and they give me silks and flowers, and -”
“And what, Sansa?” When had Jon gotten close enough to grasp her by the chin, to look straight in her eyes. It was unnerving that he moved so quickly like that, didn’t he know that?
“Don’t do that,” Sansa swatted at his hand, and wasn’t sure why he looked so hurt. She certainly wasn’t strong enough to do that.
“Sansa, you’re not pretty and useless -”
“You don’t think I’m pretty?”
“No! I mean - I mean, Sansa, you’re -” Jon stepped back, raked a hand through his curls and then tossed back the rest of the fermented milk in Sansa’s chalice in one go.
It was impressive. That is to say, Sansa, who had only managed little sips all evening, found it a useful skill that she wished she could acquire herself.
“Sansa, you’re very pretty and the men, they don’t - they don’t think you’re stupid and useless. They think you’re a strong, fine Northern woman and it makes them happy to give you pretty things, because they want to honor you and make you happy and…” Jon was flushed with his haste to reassure her. “And it makes men brave to know that women - that the Lady of Winterfell is dressed like Spring and waiting to greet them with food from her table. It gives them something to believe in, to hope for Sansa.
"These men loved Ned Stark, and you’re his daughter. And they want to honor you and make you happy. Sansa, I want to honor you and make you happy -” It might have been the longest speech she’d ever heard Jon give.
“That’s the most I ever heard you say!” Which might have been a misstep, because Jon stopped talking with an almost audible snap, and something about the clench of his jaw and the way his eyes closed radiated agony. Perhaps he bit his tongue?
“The Knight of Flowers had a cape made out of roses when he rode in Father’s tourney.”
“What?!” Jon’s voice was a bit strangled. Maybe he really did bite his tongue.
“When you came in, before, earlier - you asked why Ghost was covered in flowers. And it’s because the Knight of Flowers placed second in the joust and he was pretty.”
Jon gaped at her, “I don’t think Ghost is going to be jousting anytime soon.”
Sansa turned back to Ghost, who, unlike Jon, had been perfectly behaved and managed to stay perfectly still in respect for the flower crown and cloak she’d woven for him. The flowers she’d braided into his fur might have been a mistake in retrospect; his fur was hardly long enough for it. But he was fierce and oh so pretty, and it made her happy.
“He looks so pretty you can hardly tell he could rip a man’s throat out easy as breathing!” Sansa chirped, bending to give Ghost a kiss on his upturned snout.
“Traitor,” Jon murmured, and Sansa whirled around, frowning.
And through it all, Ghost sat, resplendent in his flowers, utterly still and silent.
A/N: wow so randomly last night i had the GREATEST (((worst))) idea of my entire life to write a one shot based off of the song ‘forever and always’ by parachute and i somehow managed to finish it even tho i literally murdered myself in the fukcnig PROCESS?!?! i’m not 100% on the ending bc i tried to make it meaningful but my brain is mush after writing this so lmao… i’m actually rly proud of this tho so ya this is me breaking my own heart and i hope u enjoy!! also, just a small ps: i’m a 17 yr old girl who has nvr gone to medical school, so i’m solely basing all i know off of greys anatomy (((lol)). i don’t even kno if “the surge” is a thing, but i made it one so ya :-) i advise listening 2 the song as u read maybe ??
Their first date is at the end of their sixth year, and it is a disaster.
Their term is nearly over when Lily sidelines James completely by asking him out. He can’t pretend he hasn’t been noticing a change between them, but a date is far from the expected result. He has only just convinced himself that Lily’s odd behaviour isn’t on account of her deciding he’s about as fun to have around as a starving manticore.
When his heart restarts, he stammers out a yes.
It is not a Hogsmeade weekend, so they decide to head to the village after classes have let out. James changes out of his uniform, and then changes again because Sirius tells him his jumper makes him look like a tree.
James waits for her in the common room, his leg bouncing up and down more out of habit than impatience. Sighing, he takes off his glasses to wipe them on the edge of his shirt.
“Hi,” he hears, and turns to see the prettiest blur he’s ever known.
“Trust me Hyung, it’ll be fun!” Jungkook beamed as he dragged a reluctant Yoongi up a few flights of stairs, illuminated by neon lights peeking out from the streets outside.
“I don’t think this is a good idea Jungkook,” he hesitates, wanting to roll down the stairs that he’d painstakingly climbed up and out of the nearest window.
“Lighten up a bit, it’ll be great,” Jungkook continues climbing up the stairs, finally reaching the floor he’d been searching for into a damp smelling room, with a small, shady looking reception desk. “A lot of my friends recommended this place you know? It’s one of the best and I hear one of the guys is real good if you what I’m saying.”
Oliver Queen was four years old when he met what he deemed to be the love of his life.
Evidence to prove this was taken from what he learned from his grandpa, who, just the day before, had informed Oliver that he knew grandma was it for him when she smiled at him and he wanted to spend his whole life making sure she never stopped.
When Oliver met Felicity, she was not smiling; instead, she was crying. It was a high point that summer and her scoop of mint chip slid right off her cone to land half on the ground and half on her shoes with little cat faces all over them. Her blonde hair was up in pigtails with little cherry hair ties, and the pink dress she wore boasted a large yellow flower on the front.
She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his four years.
Jack stood in the kitchen with his back facing me, his back muscles flexing as he chop the lettuce and vegetables. I took a sip from my smart water, desperately wishing it was coffee.
“The salad is almost done.” Jack turned back, smiling at me. I reached over the bar, careful of my bump, and kissed his lips. After he finished the salad, we ate quickly before getting ready for my maternity shoot. My outfit consisted of a long cream sweater, black leggings, a gray and black scarf, and my brown combats. I curled my hair with my curling wand, the loose beach waves flowing in the wind in the field.
We met with the photographer in a grassy field on the way towards Spokane, the 2 and ½ hour drive a little agonizing for me. Jack was worried I was going to give birth in the middle of nowhere, but I don’t think so.
Jack’s Point of View~
She looked so beautiful. Pregnancy is a damn good look on her. I stood behind her, her shirt no longer covering her bump. We made a heart with our hands over her belly button, her breathing ragged as I breathed down her neck. After taking multiple pictures, we made it back to Seattle safely. Once back in our town, we decided on Red Robin, considering we’re both starving.
“So.. I found something.. interesting in your sock drawer this morning.” She said, as she bit into a fry. My heart nearly stopped along with my breathing, but I continued eating.
“What did you find?” I asked, taking a sip of my limeade.
“Oh, just your porn mags.” She laughed. I let out a sigh of relief, but then covered my reddening face.
“Ah, love, it’s okay.” She laughed. Uh, that laugh, I thought, The most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, well, next to Jasmine’s.
After paying the bill, we picked Jasmine up from my Mom’s house. The drive back to the house was short, Jasmine munching on the leftover french fries from earlier. We all cuddled on the couch and watched Shrek, apparently it was Jasmine’s favorite. She fell asleep with her head in my lap, Y/N carefully moving off the couch to help me lift Jas. Y/N trailed quietly behind me into Jasmine’s room, carefully closing the oak door.
“Wait,” Jasmine sleepily whispered. Y/N looked at me as I held my finger up to signal I’d be back in a minute. I walked quickly into my bedroom and opened my sock drawer, grabbing the Verragio box from inside my tube sock. I opened it and grinned, the diamonds even more beautiful than I remembered. I closed took the ring out of the box and held it in my sweaty palm tightly as I walked back to Jasmine’s room.
Y/N was laying next to Jasmine on her queen sized bed, combing her fingers through Jas’s hair.
“Daddy, can you tell me a story?” Jasmine asked, the little smirk on her face indicated that she was now in on the plan.
“Sure, sweets.” I smirked right back.
Y/N’s Point of View~
“Once upon a time, there was a Teacher and a Student.” Jack started. My eyes darted up to him as he continued to speak.
“She was the fairest and prettiest in all the land,” He said while smiling at me.
“What was her name?” Jasmine said, while looking up at him from her long eyelashes.
“Y/N.” Jack said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Get shrek’d, dad.” Jasmine sighed and she rolled her eyes. I nearly suffocated trying to stifle my laugh.
“After several months of a secret relationship with the student, the Teacher made a inevitable decision,” He paused.
“He got down on one knee,” Jack paused, while transitioning down on one knee.
“And said; Y/F/N, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” He said, while holding the ring from the shop. I covered my mouth and looked up at him, scrambling off Jasmine’s bed to sit on the edge in front of him.
“A-are you serious?” I said, muffled through my hand. He nodded and smiled.
“Y-yes! Of course, I will marry you.” I said, my breathing rapid.
“Babe, oh my god, did you just pee from excitement?” He laughed. My eyebrows screwed in confusion before looking down.
“There was once a boy named Wuyifan(Kris) who came from Canada to Korea pursuing a dream. He believed that he could Fly, draw and play sports (other than basketball cuz he was really good in that). He also called himself a Dragon and was the Leader of EXOM. He had a strong charisma but he was soft as a puppy. His style was one of a kind and his jokes where Lame lol but he could make anyone smile in a heart beat.He spoke 4 languages, and always smiled even if in the inside he was sad :(
There was also another boy named Lu Han (Luhan) who came from Beijing to Korea also perusing his dreams. He knew No Korean at all but took a chance and traveled alone to a land unknown. He was among the most prettiest boys EVER to be in KPOP industry. He had eyes that twinkle more than the stars at night. His voice was heaven like and his passion was fierce. He Loved dancing and singing specially to DBSK and H.O.T songs. He also loved playing soccer and playing with the younger members. He was the Lead Vocalist, Lead Dancer and Visual of EXOM.
Those 2 boys left their homes in HOPES that SMENT would make their dreams come true. They had dreams, hopes, aspirations, wishes that little by little started becoming nothing but just a fantasy. They over worked their bodies to the point of pain. They felt homesick yet weren’t allowed to visit home even during breaks. They gave up freedom in order to obtain fame but it came with a heavy price…
Although they do not walk the same path as the rest of EXO, they will always be PART OF EXO. In the Future I want them to be remember for all the good things they did with EXO. Don’t let them become a memory, don’t let them just disappear. Support both now young man in their dreams because THEY GAVE US SO MUCH. Their voices made hearts smile, their looks made hearts beat. Their jokes made us laugh and their tears broke our hearts. But they left a huge print on our hearts and minds. Even if you never got to see them or heard of them don’t disrespect them. Support their decisions and Believe in them.”
I have always believed in them and will always believe in them. OT12 IN MY HEART no matter what the future holds right?
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: So…I’ve been thinking about how it would actually go if Tom did date a black woman, and my thoughts were really depressing only because I know it’ll never happen. But, if it did, this how I think it would probably play out. (Tagging some folks I think would be interested.)
“Sasha?” Jean asks his mother one day, right before a play date with the new kid that’s just moved in down the street. “So it’s a girl? I have to play with an icky girl?”
“Jean Kirschtein, you will be nice to this girl. She probably doesn’t have any friends yet, and you may be the first kid she meets here. Besides,” the woman answers, “you just might like her.”
Jean grumbles and finishes tying his shoes. As an eight year old, the last thing he wants to do is play with a girl. She’s probably obsessed with Barbies or Disney princesses, and he is not playing dress up or anything stupid like that. He sneaks his Game Boy into his jacket pocket and gets into his mom’s car.
“Sois gentil avec elle!” his mother calls from the car as he knocks on Sasha’s door.