pulled over my eyes

Theories (Peter Quill)

Pairing: Peter Quill x OC

Warnings: None…tiny, tiny spoiler for Vol. 2

A/N: This might be complete crap, but I desperately needed to write some Quill. I hammered this out earlier this morning and just did a quick edit, no rewriting. But hopefully it’s post worthy! I think a second part is in order? xD

PART TWO HERE


Originally posted by despairingfever

The sound of bickering voices drifted back from the cockpit, making me roll my eyes. I lowered the manuscript I was flipping through.

“Will you two morons cut it out already?” I hollered. I waited a beat, but the arguing went on. Probably hadn’t even heard me. Anyways, it wasn’t my job to break up the idiotic pissing contest that went on between Rocket and anyone he met. Or at the moment, Drax.

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His || Jungkook || 0.15

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15

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Lucky Me

Summary: Dean accidentally spills how he feels and decides to deal with it one of the only ways he knows how. Written from Dean’s POV

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1900

Warnings:  Language, fluff, drunk!Dean

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading. It has been awhile since I wrote from Dean’s POV and I’ve missed it. A special thanks to @free-bouquet-wasteland for helping me out

This is for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog RomCom Fluff Challenge. My prompt was “What’s there to talk about? She’s the best person I’ve ever known.”

Originally posted by lookprettyliveclassyplaydirty

Leaning against the bar I signal the bartender for another round. She’s cute, petite and gives me this big smile as she hands me three whiskeys, “Thanks sweetheart, keep the change.”

“Thank you.” She takes the cash off the bar as I grab the glasses, downing one before heading for the table. It wasn’t like Sammy was going to drink it anyways, he had his nose buried in some book. Jesus Christ that kid, we just get done with this hunt, celebrating, getting wasted and he’s already looking for the next one.

“Where’d she run off to?”

Sam looks up, then glances over to where she had been sitting, “Oh, she’s over kicking some poor guy’s ass at pool.”

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imagine you work at a fetal daycare

(if people like this I can think of lots more to write in this scenario! So I hope everyone likes it)I hated my office job, so I wasn’t too sad when I got laid off. A new daycare was opening on the other side of town so I thought I’d apply - I love kids and wanted some of my own one day. But it wasn’t a normal sort of daycare. I thought they seemed weirdly obsessed with health screenings and drug tests and stuff but I didn’t find out why until my first day.

I don’t really know how the technology works. It’s all very secret and patented and all kinds of things. They just told me a lot about how safe it was. All I know is, you get in one pod thing, and a pregnant woman gets in the other, and you’re both strapped in in all kinds of places, and when the technician has finished pushing buttons you’re the one who’s pregnant. Then she can go off and do what she wants - like go on a flight, or get drunk, or just feel normal for a while - and at the end of your shift she takes her baby back.

They charge these women a lot so the pay is good, and the facilities are fantastic - you can’t leave the site while you’re carrying, but they have hotel rooms if you need to stay over, and all your meals are provided (it’s very heavy on the health food but that’s okay).

Some of the staff don’t stay very long - they say it’s ‘too weird’, or they just hate being pregnant. But I love it! I didn’t realise I would. I don’t want an actual baby right now, but I love feeling pregnant, especially since I don’t have to do anything but enjoy it. I love having a round belly to stroke, I know I look really cute, and I love feeling the babies move around. I’ve worked here six months now. I’m only scheduled to work three days a week - the pay is that good that you can easily manage on that - but I come in most days. The manager knows she can always call me if they’re busy.

And who needs a day off when I’m being paid to spend all evening watching TV! The client has gone to her best friend’s bachelorette party, and was talking very excitedly about how drunk she was going to get, so I’m here overnight, and possibly overnight tomorrow as well (she won’t take her baby back until her blood alcohol level is low enough). Right now I’m eight months pregnant.

And I feel great. I’m sitting up in the bed, with a big pile of pillows behind me, watching a movie. I’ve got a delicious smoothie. And I’ve got my pajamas on, but they don’t really fit, with the waistband tucked down under my huge belly and the top folded up under my breasts. I can feel the baby kicking and wonder if it knows it’s somewhere new.

I put the smoothie down and stroke my hands over my belly. At first it was so strange to me, being suddenly very pregnant, but now I’m used to it. I love when my skin feels so tight and stretched. Third trimester transfers are definitely my favourite.

“It’s okay, baby,” I say. “I’m just the babysitter. Mommy will be back soon.” It kicks me again and I feel the skin stretch slightly at that point. “You should be glad you’ve got plenty of room in there,” I said. “Sometimes it gets crowded.”

The first couple of months I worked here they just gave me one baby at a time. Once I was used to that I started getting more. If it’s just one first trimester baby you hardly notice it at all - you don’t get as sick as the actual mother, I don’t know why, just sometimes a little bit. Two or three and you start to show. The most babies I’ve carried at once was five, but that was only for an hour or so until one client returned (I asked the technician how she was sure she gave people their right baby back and she went on a long speech about DNA tagging that I didn’t understand, I just hope she gets it right every time!). I was pretty big then, bigger than this, I think two of those babies were second trimester and three first. I felt so full, it was fantastic. Since then we haven’t been so busy, and we’ve had some new staff. A few of them are talking about quitting, though, so maybe we’ll be short-staffed again soon.

I hope so. If I’m here a couple of days with this baby there’s a good chance they’ll give me another. I stroke my belly again, trying to push it forward even more. I think about that day I carried five babies. The manager called me up, sounding seriously stressed, because only one other staff member had turned up and she had a dozen clients booked in. When I got here and went into her office I could see what she meant - she was leant back in her chair, barely able to reach her desk over her belly, that was clearly stuffed full. That’s how I know we’re really busy - she’s so dedicated and hates to turn anyone down! She did have to make a couple of walk-ins wait until some clients had collected their babies. I’m sure I could have fit one more. Maybe I’ll manage six another time.

I’m in luck tonight. The movie has just finished and I’m thinking about taking a bath when there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Hi, Cathy,” my manager says. Sometimes she wears a suit but tonight she’s in uniform - a tight, stretchy purple t-shirt and black leggings - and when I look, sure enough she has a medium-sized bump under her top. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m great,” I say, because I am. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could do me a favour,” she said. “Mel has called in sick and -”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m here anyway.”

“It’s a single pregnancy, 21 weeks. I’d take it myself but I have a lot of running about to do. Can you manage?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

My manager sighs. “Oh, you’re a star. Come on, then,” and she helps pull me up from the bed. I’m already so big that getting up is a problem. I think about how much bigger I’ll be in a few minutes and bite my lip in anticipation.

It takes me a few minutes to waddle along to the transfer room. A nervous-looking pregnant woman watches me strap myself in. “Is this okay?” she says. “If she’s already, you know…”

“It’s fine,” the technician assures her. “We do this all the time.”

I close my eyes. I pulled my pajama top down over my belly when I left my room but it barely stretches. I adjust it surreptitiously so that it doesn’t suddenly ping up or tear when the transfer happens. I should have changed back into my uniform (that top really is SUPER stretchy) but it’s hard when you’re already huge.

“Here we go,” the technician says, and I sigh as I feel my belly stretch that much more. The fabric of my pajama top is stretched super tight now, so tight I can hardly breathe. When I get back to my room I’m going to take it off.

The client leaves, thanking everyone profusely for ‘fitting her in’. “Did you manage to fit her in, Cathy?” the tech says after she’s gone. I just about manage to reach round my massive belly. “I think so,” I said. “Wow, that’s more than I thought it would be.”

“You’re so good at this,” she says, taking my arm and helping me waddle back to my room. “I wish we had a whole team just like you.”

“You’ve never been tempted to give it a go?” I ask. She laughs.

“I’m the only one who knows how to work the machine! I can’t do it to myself. Although she’s tried to talk me into it, I’m not sure. It looks pretty uncomfortable.”

“I actually love it,” I confess. “I’d love to see how many babies I can carry at once.”

“Really?” she looks at me thoughtfully. “What’s your record so far?”

“Five.”

“I’ll look at the bookings. See what I can do.” She grins at me as she opens my room door and helps me inside. “If that’s what you want. Now get some rest.”

She leaves and I shut the door behind her and sit down on the bed. Finally I can pull off my pajama top and I look down at myself. Sitting down, my belly reaches right to my knees. I feel magnificent. The babies are squirming and kicking and I know I won’t get much sleep tonight, but that’s okay. I want to enjoy this.

Vocal - Thomas (The Maze Runner) [Smut]

Authors: @writing-obrien and @dumbass-stilinski

Character(S): Thomas/Reader, Aris/Reader, Brenda/Thomas

Word Count: 3463

Notes: here’s another collab from me and Steff! Here’s some super hot Thomas smut because I’m thirsty for Thomas and you all know it. Oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, riding, marking, jealous, cheating.



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His ||Jungkook|| 0.2

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2

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10

PVRIS - waking up / mind over matter / smoke / fire / ghosts / mirrors / eyelids
     ⤷   mentions of E Y E S

keep an open mind it brings open hearts and open eyes, 
you walk around with your hands out and I’ve never seen anyone so blind

bonus

Feel Good, Baby?

A Shawn Mendes one shot.

A/N: Shower sex. Yep. Fluffy ending :))

WARNING: SMUT


“Shit. No, go back to sleep babe.” In a daze, I heard Shawn’s voice after having been pulled from sleep by the sound of a guitar falling onto carpet, the strings singing softly. I squinted against the morning sun as I propped myself up on my forearms to see Shawn in his boxers, holding a guitar and looking at my guiltily.

“Is your guitar okay?” I asked sleepily. Shawn did a quick once over of his guitar before turning to me again. 

 "Why is your first instinct to worry about my guitar? We spend too much time together. It’s ok, baby, go back to sleep.“ Shawn whispered, setting the guitar against the wall and running a hand through his hair. His movements were jittery and nervous, making me sit up further in concern. 

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Training

Pairing: FBI!Stiles x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 2677

Author’s Note: In relation to the new teen wolf trailer, this! Lol I wrote this in a couple hours and I think it’s cute? I mean it’s probably shit but I couldn’t wait. I hope y’all enjoy! Thanks to my babe @mf-despair-queen for proofreading this for meeeeeee.


Originally posted by stydiaislove

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“Fool Me Twice” (Bad Boy!Jooheon AU)

(GIF Credit to @wonhontology)

Part One

Title: Fool Me Twice

POV: 1st

Rating: Mature. Smut, cursing, drinking, etc.

Summary: He says that you’re different, but he’s not the best at showing it. 


“So are you guys dating, then?”

“No”

My friend gave me a look like she didn’t believe me, and at this point I was only trying to convince myself.  

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Bruises

Originally posted by wrong-kong

Artist/Person : Kim Jiwon

Group/Crew : iKon

Genre : Smut

Word Count : 2170

Requested : No

A/N: I’m sorry it’s short and that it took so long, but I was extremely busy. I hope you enjoy~~

He stared at me, eyeing me through the jail cell bars with that goddamn smirk on his face. His hair was messy, nose bridge cut and the corner of his mouth had a little smeared blood from his lip being busted. His eyes were dark as he looked at me, waiting for me to say the words he was waiting for. “This is him, Officer.”

As we walked out of the police station, side by side, I thought about my situation. Stuck living with the campuses main bad boy, who just so happens to be my big fat crush and friend with benefits, that just keeps pulling me into all his mess. Not only does he always bring his troublemaker friends over, but whenever something goes down, like he gets arrested or in a serious fight, I end up taking care of his mess. The smell if cigarettes pulled me from my thoughts. Looking over, I roll my eyes, watching as he smoked. “Hey, Y/N?” A sigh rolled from between my lips at his voice. “Yes, Bobby?” “You look cute.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked to him. His eyes were looking straight ahead, but a smirk played on his lips. “Thanks.”

Getting into our shared apartment, I went straight to the bathroom to get the first aid before going back into the living where he was seated. I immediately started cleaning his cuts, focusing solely on making sure that the wounds didn’t get infected. “Y/N…” I glanced up to his eyes, our faces a couple of inches apart. “Look…I’ve been thinking…about that night.” I stood, shaking my head before smiling softly. “Done. I’m going to bed.” I turned to start walking away, only for his hand to wrap around my wrist to stop me. “Y/N- “, I shook my head as I stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jiwon.” “We have to. You’ve been distancing yourself more than usual.” I sighed, easily pulling my wrist from his loose grasp before turning and looking to him with soft eyes. “You were right. I shouldn’t get involved with you. It was just some fun.” I smiled gently before making my way to my room, holding the tears just until I got inside and closed the door. Then I broke down. Silently sobbing until the wee hours of the morning when I finally fell asleep. Little did I know, Jiwon was still awake too. Thinking of what he had done.

Days of not talking to each other turned into weeks, then months, until it somehow ended up being nearly six months of no communication between us. We’d leave out without telling the other, and come back without telling the other. It was a bit sad, though. Every time we ran into each other, whether it be on campus, in the apartment, in a store, it’d be awkward. But then, we’d act like it never happened. Go back to being nonexistent to each other. That was until one Friday night at exactly 3am. The knocking on my bedroom door was just loud enough for me to notice if I was awake, but not even hear if I was asleep. But, I was awake. Doing homework that due the upcoming Monday. I stood from my desk and slowly made my way over to the door, opening it just enough for me look up at the male that I shared an apartment with. “Jiwon… what’s up?” I asked, eyebrow raised in confusion as he stared down at his feet. He’d just gotten back from the party he’d went to during the evening. His cap was facing forward and his head was hanging low, but he didn’t speak. “Jiwon…I don’t have to for your games. I have homework that I need to get do-What the hell happened to you?!” I gasped, taking his bloody face in my small hands. Inspecting his face, I could already tell that what every wounds were under all the blood, were going to bruise and swell up. “Come in, come in.” I ushered him in, sitting him on my bed before pulling a small first aid kit from my bedside drawer.

As I cleaned him up, we both stayed quiet. He let my clean him up, and I focused on his wounds. Wiping away blood, dabbing ointment, and bandaging up the cuts. When I was done, I pulled away from his body. Not even realizing that I ended up straddling his thighs as I cleaned his face. “I’m done now.” He merely nodded and went to get up and leave. “No. Tell me what happened. I haven’t seen you that beaten up since we first moved in together.” “Y/N, it doesn’t matter. Just get back to work. Thanks for your help, really, but I don’t want you involved.” Shaking my head, I forced him back onto my bed by pushing his stomach. At his hiss of pain, my eyes widened in worry before realization set in. “Pull off your shirt.” “Y/N I really don’t think that that’s a goo- “. “Take off the goddamn shirt, Jiwon!” At that, he silently pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt that hid underneath. And that’s when I saw all the bruises. Some were purple and blue, while others were red. I held my hand to my mouth as I scanned his body. “Jiwon…what the hell happened?” I look up, finding him with his head low. His jaw was set in a tight clench, his hands gripping my bed. I stood in front of him, placing my hand on his cheek before lifting his face to look up at me. As we made eye contact, my face softened. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me between his parted legs as he rested his cheek against my bare stomach. His hold was tight, fingers digging into my sides. My fingers automatically went to his hair, playing in the soft, blond strands.

We were like that for a while, sitting in silence as he held me in a steady grip and I played with his hair. That was, until he moved his head. At first I ignored it, thinking that he was just adjusting for his neck. Then, he started placing soft kisses on my exposed stomach. “Jiwon… what are you doing?” I asked softly, looking down at him. “I’m showing you sorry I am. I hurt my princess and I didn’t mean to…” He muttered, his hands moving down to my thighs and pulling me onto his lap. Attaching his lips to my neck, he rubbed his hands up and down my sides. I couldn’t help the way that my head fell back and moans slipped from my lips so effortlessly. My hips started moving on their own, grinding against him and pulling moans from him. “Princess…fuck…I missed you…so much…” He groaned, nipping at my neck as he pushed me against him harder. I nodded, eyes shut as I moaned out softly, gripping his shoulders. “Baby…” I whimpered, clenching in need around nothing. “I need you.” And then, everything stopped. A whine left my parted lips as I opened my eyes and looked to him. His eyes were set on me, dark with lust, as he bit his bottom lip. Then, my back was on the bed and he was kneeling on the floor between my legs, yanking down my cotton shorts and panties. We stared into each other’s eyes as he leaned forward and gave my lower lips a small peck. Slowly he slipped his tongue from between his lips and licked a small strip up my womanhood, causing a small moan to slip from me. At that, he found some encouragement and dove in. He ate me out like it was the first time he’d eaten for months. Twisting and turning his tongue in different ways, nipping and sucking at anything he could. I was a squirming, moaning mess. Head moving back and forth in pleasure as I called his name repeatedly, hands buried in his hair as I tugged on it. I clenched around his tongue, subconsciously pushing his face closer to my core. “I’m close…so close.” I whimpered, only for the feeling of him humming into me. “Cum for me, princess.” He muttered, making my eyes go crossed as the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach snapped. My back arched off the bed, mouth open in a silent moan, and my toes curled. He held my hips down, lapping at my core. When my orgasm passed, he pulled away and stood, looking down at me with a smirk playing on his lips.

Our clothes were shed in a matter of a few minutes, a condom slipped onto his length. He was hovering over me, both his arms resting on either side of my head, his lips brushing against mine gently. “I’m sorry for hurting you.” He muttered, pecking my lips softly and looking into my eyes. “Show me how sorry you are…” I breathed, my hand making its way from where it rested on his shoulder to his neck as I pulled him down for a kiss. As our lips moved together slowly, I felt him slip into me. I pulled away, my lips parting in a silent moan. He pushed into me until our hips connected, using all of his self-control and staying still. “Move.” I spoke in a hushed voice after a few seconds, pushing my hips towards his a little. He slowly started to thrust in and out of me, his forehead resting on mine. “Jiwon…” I whimpered, gripping his biceps. “Don’t hold back.” I breathed, looking him in the eyes. His eyes darkened at my words, his pupils getting slightly bigger as he gave a stiff nod. I felt him pull out until only his tip was left, then he snapped his hips back roughly. I let out a squeak, feeling him do it over and over again. Then he gripped my thigh with one of his hands and pulled it onto his hip. His thrusts were fast and hard, grunts coming from his as he gripped the sheets. Feeling myself clench around him, I didn’t even have time to warn him, before I came. “Fuck!” I cried out, my nails dragging down his back. His face scrunched at the pain that shot through his body, but that only made him thrust harder. Then, he pulled out completely. “Get on all fours.” He growled, his eyes almost animalistic. I nodded, scurrying on my hands and knees, ass facing him as I arched my back.

The sound reached my ears before I felt the sharp sting from him slapping my ass. I whimpered, my head dropping at the pain. The bed dipped behind me, then his hands gripped my ass and parted it as he slipped into me. My eyes rolled back at the angle, my arms almost giving out. His hand tangled itself into my hair before he tugged my head back, making my back arch more, before he started thrusting into me mercilessly. Our moans and groans were bouncing off the walls, adding to the loud sound of the headboard hitting the wall. I was clenching around him tightly, pushing myself back onto him. “Are you close, princess?” He grunted, rolling his hips into me harder. I nodded, letting out a soft ‘yes’, that sound more like a squeak. He nodded before slipping his hand to my front, pressing quick figure eights onto my clit roughly. I let out a low moan, my arms giving out just as he let go of my hair to grab my hips. My face fell into the mattress, as another orgasm ripped through me. He stilled, his grip on my hips tightening as his orgasm hit him. Waves of pleasure coursed through him, before it all slowly came to a stop. Pulling away from me, he rolled off the condom and disposed of it. Laying down next to me, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my sweaty body to his.

When I woke up the next morning, he was still next to me. His face buried in my chest and his arms wrapped around my waist tightly as he slept peacefully. Soft snores leaving him, and anytime I moved even the slightest his hold would tighten before loosening back up slightly after a few moments. When he finally did wake up, two hours after me, he looked up at me with a smile. “Good morning, princess.” Looking away from the small screen of my phone, I made eye contact with him and smiled back. “Good morning, baby.” That only made his smile bigger as he held me closer, if that was possible. Placing a small kiss on my collarbone, he rested his head back on my chest and let out soft sigh. “Y/N…I think I love you.” He muttered softly. My eyes snapped to him and I smiled before giggling softly at his reddened ears. “I think I love you, too, Jiwon.”

I really love your art and Circus Au a lot. Especially Yoongi


woah!! this looks so cool!! i love how you did his eyes∑(Φ ♡ Φ)♡♡

Emotions/Damon Salvatore Smut

Originally posted by trechos-of-books

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)

Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

“Damon I can’t do this! You’re obviously not over her. You never will be!” I shouted

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It’s Raining: Dylan O’Brien One Shot

You can thank the amazing @ellie-bee242 for this smut filled one shot. This is my submission for Ellie-Bee’s Writing Challenge.

Author: @susybird

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Description: Smut, smut, smutty smut!!! Basically 2000 words of sin.

Word Count: 2199

Author’s Note: This is only my second attempt at smut so… hopefully it’s okay!

As always feedback would be awesome and let me know if you’d like to be added to my Forever Tag List. Enjoy :)

Originally posted by ohhdylanobrien

“Ugh, it’s raining!” I groan, as I kneel up on the window seat, looking out onto the grey gloom covering the world outside. I trace the path of raindrops dripping on the other side of the glass, the pads of my fingers growing cold, as my breath fogged the transparent surface. I pull my pale peach cardi tighter around my shoulders, shivering at the chill coming off in icy waves from the glass.

I turn back towards the room behind me and tilt my head slightly. Dylan was sitting hunched over at his desk, typing away at his computer. I took my time admiring my boyfriend of over two years.

I loved how he was keeping his hair slightly longer, just enough to show off the waves in his dark chocolate brown locks. His jaw was covered in scruff and my fingers itched to feel the soft hairs prickling against them. His amber eyes were dark with concentration, but I knew that when he was truly happy they turned golden, taking my breath away every single time they glowed. The loose grey t-shirt and his stooped posture, hid his toned figure, but I knew the lines of his body off by heart and it constantly made me want to hum with happiness.

I watched as Dylan’s knee jiggled up and down, a sign that he was stressing over whatever work he was doing on the computer. I quietly padded across the room, my bare feet making next to no sound on the hardwood floors.

I crept up behind him and ran my arms around his shoulders, planting kisses on the moles scattered on the back of his neck, his hair tickling my nose as it brushed against his hairline.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, his voice tilting in amusement at my obvious attempt to distract him.

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Keeping Up Appearances

Lord, I hardly know how to write this post. Here we go. I have a bunch of appearances coming up in the next couple of months (the Iowa City Literature Festival, a talk at the University of Illinois, GeekGirlCon, Humanities Washington…) and for the first time in my professional life, I am going to try an experiment. As you may or may not know (I don’t talk about this very much), I have acute strabismus. I live in two-dimensional space, which makes the world seem somewhat illusory. I actually enjoy the way I see–I enjoy it so much that it’s never felt like a disability, even though that’s essentially what it is–but I am often quite bothered by the way I look. As a teenager, I did a stint in vision therapy (still largely experimental at the time) that didn’t fix the strabismus, but did give me greater control over how I use my eyes. I found I could “cheat” and over-focus (a bit like crossing your eyes) to pull my eyes into alignment. It was a strain and made everything look blurry, but I could appear–for short periods of time–like I was looking at what I was looking at. This, to me, was huge: I could take normal-looking pictures and have conversations with people in which I could fake eye contact. 

My doctor was not a huge fan of this crutch. He warned me that by the time I was in my thirties, the muscles I was “recruiting” to align my eyes would be too weak to cheat this way. It was putting extra strain on my visual system. It wasn’t fixing anything except the perceptions and prejudices of others.

Well, my thirties are here. (In fact, they’re half over.) And for the past couple of years, just as my doctor predicted, over-focusing has become incredibly painful. It requires all my concentration; sometimes I can feel my facial muscles start to twitch with the strain. What’s more, I can’t actually see the people I talk to. I’ve developed half a dozen other cheats to support the original cheat: looking down frequently to rest my eyes, clenching my jaw, resting my hand on my face to force the muscles in my forehead to relax.

That’s a lot of effort to expend simply to have a conversation.

So I’ve decided to stop. Up until this point, the only people I’ve ever felt comfortable really looking at–looking at without straining and worrying about how I appear–are my husband and children. But I’m going to have to start looking at everybody this way–the way I really am–or risk damaging my eyes. 

On a good day, when I’m not tired, it simply seems as though I’m staring coyly past whatever or whomever I’m really looking at. On a bad day, when I am tired, it’s clear there’s something quite wrong. So we will have to bear with each other when we meet at cons or signings or on the street. I promise I am looking at you. And now, finally, without getting hung up on appearances, I’ll be able to see you, too. 

a concept: we are driving down the freeeway. it is raining outside and the windshield wipers are on. i am half asleep in the passenger seat watching you, a huge blanket pulled over my shoulders. soft music plays on the radio. i close my eyes and am at peace.

boy entrancers

Min Yoongi / Suga / Agust D | BTS
6k words | COMEDY / FLUFF
ROOMMATE/BEAUTY GURU AU
warnings for language
(named OC)

Originally posted by taesscripts

this is purely for my own entertainment, but I hope you all laugh and find it cute, too. reblogs with commentary in the tags is amazing.

Something black and spider-like on the kitchen counter catches his eye as he pours himself a glass of water, and he pauses to look at it, half to see if he needs to get something heavy to squash it, or if he needs to heave in a breath and shout–

“Goddamnit, Luna, can you please stop leaving your eyelashes everywhere?”

“Don’t throw my boy entrancers away!” he hears her shout back, and Yoongi slams his glass down onto the counter and scoops the lashes up into his hand, bristling.

He finds her sitting on the floor in the office–or, her beauty room, rather–looking through shadow palettes. Luna wordlessly holds her hand out for them without looking up, and he all but smacks them into her palm, causing her to look up, startled.

“Uh, can you be a bit more gentle, please, these cost thirty dollars.”

He gapes.

Thirty dollars? You pay thirty dollars for eyelashes?”

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