roll under the bed

Every year when January rolls around I have the urge to simplify – to start the new year fresh and clean and uncluttered. This doesn’t mean getting rid of everything (I’m faaaar from being a minimalist), just getting rid of the things that weigh you down. So, here’s the unofficial guide to simplifying without going full-on Marie Kondo. 

physical clutter

What’s the area in your room that stresses you out when you see it? Start there. A few quick tips on how to clean specific areas:

closet

  • Take allll your clothes out of your closet, wardrobe, or dresser
  • Put the things you know you’re keeping back in right away – your favorite jeans, that black dress you wear all the time, etc
  • Once you’re left with just the ‘maybes’, try every item on.
  • If you wouldn’t buy it all over again, it should probably go.
  • Don’t just toss what you don’t want, though! Donate it to a local thrift store, charity, or church with a community closet.

desk + shelves

  • Again, start by completely clearing off your desk and study area.
  • Go through your binders and make sure everything is in it’s correct place
  • Migrate materials from old classes into files out of the way if they’re important, or toss them if you won’t use them again.
  •  Make sure everything has a home – pencils should be in a bag or mug, papers in files or trays, and notebooks neatly stacked.
  • Make a point to clean your desk regularly!
  • If you have supplies you don’t need, donate them! Let’s be real – you have way more pens than you could ever use.
  • Books are also a wonderful thing to donate! Your local library or thrift shop would be my top pick. 
  • If you still have old textbooks laying around, list them on your school’s bulletin board to sell, since most thrift shops won’t accept them. 

under your bed

  • Let’s be real: most all of this can go. Grab a trash bag and toss anything that’s not important.
  • You can get one of those rolling tupperware under-the-bed organizers, or just stick what has to stay under there in a thin  cardboard box.
  • Be sure not to leave things loose under there, or you may end up with some unwanted pals living under there ~

digital clutter

I don’t know about you, but I feel like I have a lot of digital clutter. It’s so easy to build it up and forget about all that you have stored on your computer!

  • Go through your phone and delete photos you don’t need, apps you don’t use, and old messages. 
  • Do a major computer overhaul! Delete old files and programs so that you have more space.
  • Put all your files into folders so that they’re easier to find later on.
  • Take a look through your friends and following lists, and delete all those people that post negative things.

mental clutter

This is the big one. Mental clutter comes from all of the above, plus just living your life. Some tips for decluttering your mind:

  • Do a nightly brain dump. Before you get into bed each night, open up your journal and write down everything that’s on your mind. Once it’s on paper, you can let it go until the morning. 
  • Find relaxing habits to practice everyday: yoga, taking a warm bath, going for a run, etc
  • Practice mindfulness or meditation
  • Keep a planner!
  • Practice not letting yourself harbor bad thoughts
  • Stay away from negative people if you can. You don’t need negative attitudes to be adding your already stressful life!

simplify your schedule

  • Learn to say ‘no’ more – if you don’t want to go to your friend’s-cousin’s-niece’s dance recital, don’t.
  • Streamline your daily routine;
    • Get ready faster by nixing the makeup you don’t love to put on and finding quick and easy hairstyles
    • Make an outfit idea board on Pinterest and fill it with outfits that you can make from pieces you already have in your closet so you spend less time finding an outfit 
    • Cook meals in advance when possible, or stick an easy meal in the crockpot before you leave for the day
    • Tidy every room just a bit before you leave it, so that you don’t have to devote an hour to cleaning it later on
  • Make time for you each week
  • See if there are any chores that you can outsource (eg, some grocery stores will shop for you for free, all you have to do is order online and go pick it up)
  • Don’t feel like you have to participate in something you don’t enjoy. If you don’t love the sport, don’t play it

I hope you all have a very simple and relaxing year, good luck to you all!

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

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— buzz | 1.0 (m)

pairing— min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings— smut, masturbation with a twist, non-penetrative sex toy usage 
words— 4,851

:: summary: in which you’re unsure if you’ve ever received an orgasm and when you finally pluck up the courage to use the vibrator you bought that one day on a whim, Yoongi barges through the door…

» 1.0 :: 2.0 :: 3.0  ✓  
↳ yoongi’s pov +

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NHL!Bitty, Part XVI - Breakdown

Long distance relationships have their fair share of difficulties. When a mid-season medication switch-up has Jack crashing hard with unexpected side effects, Bitty deals with being a world away.


Jack feels like he’s been drugged. 

He tells Marty as much and the man laughs it off with a cheeky wink to the glass in Jack’s hand. “I made your drink, I think I’d know if I’d put in a little something extra.”

He dumps out the rest of the cocktail and switches to water. The euphoric feeling doesn’t leave, though it’s now tinged with something else. Exhaustion maybe? His vision is fuzzy at the edges and his reaction time delayed. He’s not drunk, it’s something else.

It takes a while to realize what this is, ‘danger’ not quite humming at the back of his mind. Not yet.

His hip is killing him and when he gets home he takes another pill so he can at least walk without debilitating pain. He decides to sleep it off, which proves to be a mistake when he wakes up with a migraine. A small, hopefully, manageable thing at first that morphs into a blinding pain. Before he can think better of it, he takes another half pill but immediately knows there’s more at play when his stomach rebels at the two meager sips of water it takes to wash the thing down.

He can’t be sick. He has practice. He has a game in two days. 

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“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fUCK.”

The door to Kevin’s room bursts open, ricocheting with a bang against the wall and slamming back into place. 

“Shit, fuck, Kevin, please you have to hide me, you have to help. I just walked in on - FUCK.” 

Nicky, legs and arms flailing, throws himself onto the ground and rolls under Kevin’s bed, pulling the ruffle down to cover himself just as the knob begins to turn again. Andrew hovers in the door frame - clad only in black gym shorts, his arm bands, and socks - and aims his glower at Kevin. 

“Nicky Hemmick is a dead man.” 

Kevin tries not to flinch at Nicky’s muffled yelp. He’d been enjoying the peace and quiet, listening to classical music through his headphones and studying for an upcoming test (See: finding something to do while Exy games buffer). Typically, he’d be more than happy to ignore their foolish antics - a 6′ tall backliner cowering under his twin mattress, though? A little more demanding of his attention. 

There’s an uncomfortable amount of silent eye contact wherein Andrew knows that Nicky is under the bed, Kevin knows that Nicky is under the bed, and Andrew knows that Kevin knows that Nicky is under the bed. He’s not sure why - maybe sympathy from being on the receiving end of Andrew’s wrath before, maybe a subconscious feeling of debt to Nicky for keeping the Minyards alive and on the team for so long - but he turns his head back to his open text and attempts nonchalance when he replies “Haven’t seen him.” 

Andrew ‘hmms’ but doesn’t leave. He rotates slowly as if searching, and Kevin spares a second to feel bad for the poor lump trembling beneath his box spring when Andrew’s eyes light and he reaches out to Kevin’s desk. Andrew’s body blocks the object of his focus, and so Kevin has to lean back slightly to see what he’s found - the stack of school text books. 

Andrew picks up a math book, swings it up and down as if testing its weight, then sets it down and goes for a larger History book instead. He turns back to face the bed and throws it to the ground, makes a big deal of positioning it and then wrenches his leg back and kicks it as hard as he can. It careens out of Kevin’s view, disappears beneath the dust ruffle and Kevin knows by the sudden thud and yowl that it makes contact with its intended target.

Each of the boys wait for one of the others to break the tension, and when that doesn’t happen Andrew must decide that Nicky had learned his lesson, because he storms back out without another word. Nicky waits a minute and then sheepishly comes out, knocking his long legs together and muttering under his breath. 

There’s a third awkward moment of silence after Nicky has drawn to his full height, where neither boy knows exactly how to approach the situation. Kevin gives in first, pulling his headphones the rest of the way off of his head and letting them fall with a thunk onto his notebook. 

“What the hell happened?” 

Nicky rubs at his the back of his neck, looks at the ground and when his eyes meet Kevin’s again he’s wearing that trademark Palmetto State grin. 

“I walked in and he and Neil were, um… let’s just say it’s a good thing we wear knee pads.”

Do You Remember?

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Requested: Yes by @oh–well-whatever–nevermind

A/N: I loved writing this <3

Stiles: There’s a party tonight at Lydia’s, you want to come with me?

You stared at the text from your best friend, sighing in defeat as you quickly typed a reply, “No.” You knew what would happen if you went to the party with him, he’d spend the first ten minutes joking and laughing with you, then he’d see Malia at the other side of the room, shuffle nervously on his feet as he glanced from you to her and that’d make you roll yours eyes and tell him to ‘go on over to her’. He’d smile, pat you on the back and wander off for the rest of the night; leaving you by yourself.

That’s what it is like now a days, you left alone whilst he ran around with the werecoyote that rudely interrupted your five year plan. You made a plan when you were thirteen, a plan that would make Stiles Stilinski, your best friend, fall in love with you and it was working; god, it was working great until she entered his life. Maybe it was meant to be, maybe you were only meant to be best friends forever.

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Andreil In A HeartBeat AU
  • Andrew grew up watching hearts pop out all around him. Growing up in the foster care system means seeing many hearts pop out just to be broken days later. With so many young teens crammed into the same house, crushes were often formed but they were hardly returned. Even when they were, they were soon separated due to the system. Sometimes the hearts never healed. Sometimes they did, but they were always scarred. Andrew had never seen a whole heart remain unmarked and promised himself he would never allow his heart to see the light of day, but that was years ago. Now, Andrew hardly believed he even had a heart. The years passed and even though Andrew had never seen his own physical incarnation of his heart, he knew it was damaged beyond repair. Luckily it never threatened to make an appearance. That is, until trouble arrived during his second year at Palmetto State University.
  • “Neil Josten is nothing special” was the first thought Andrew had upon seeing him in the tiny locker rooms at the cruddy high school he attended. Of course, That didn’t stop his heart from violently beating inside his chest. It didn’t show the physical sign of the HeartBeats which usually preceded the arrival of the heart, but it was a close call. Andrew ignored it like he did most things, but it was far from the last time his heart would act up
  • He was convinced it was another side effect of the drugs. Why else would his heartbeat surge like that when Neil responded to him in German? Nonetheless the same rapid heartbeat returned with a vengeance. This eventually became a regular thing. Any time Neil looked at him a certain way, or asked for a truth, or even when he got too excited about Exy, his heartbeat accelerated against his will.
  • Andrew finally admitted it was more than just the drugs when his heart jumped out of his chest after he handed the key to his house in Columbia. It wasn’t the act itself, but the face Neil made when he took the key; it was one of surprise and adoration, like he’d never been given anything before. Andrew immediately hated the look but it didn’t stop those HeartBeats from appearing when he turned away from Neil.
  • These HeartBeats increased throughout the rest of the semester and Andrew was about ready to cut it out of his chest. Their increasing interactions and conversations were wearing on Andrew’s nerves, always worried that he’d be caught. He never was since the HeartBeats always seemed to be delayed; they didn’t kick in until after Neil was gone. It resulted in Andrew giving in to Neil’s requests just so he wouldn’t be caught when the HeartBeats kicked in.
  • It didn’t help that Neil didn’t seem to know about the Hearts. When he saw the two small Hearts clinging to Dan and Matt, he was fascinated and started asking all sorts of questions. Andrew found out later that because of Neil’s life on the run, he hardly saw them and his mother never bothered explaining them to him. He claimed it was because she was too busy focusing on their survival, but Andrew knew it was another way to keep Neil safe. If his Heart ever manifested, it would be considered nothing but a liability. Andrew knew that from experience.
  • Driving back home after being released from rehab was almost harder than the time he spent in that hellish hospital. He was hoping the medication was the only reason his HeartBeats had begun, but seeing Neil waiting for him in the lobby had his heart picking up speed the way it had been all school year. Andrew ignored it, and drove them all home in silence. Andrew knew the HeartBeats wouldn’t be delayed anymore and was going to have to be careful from now on. He hadn’t come this far to let his Heart show up now.
  • It wasn’t until later on the rooftop when Andrew knew it was helpless. He told Neil he hated him despite his heart said the opposite. He threw Neil’s keys to the ground in an attempt to distract Neil when the HeartBeats made a reappearance and somehow it worked. Neil watched the keys fall as Andrew’s Heart worked to burst out of his chest. Neil went to retrieve the keys and still somehow missed the rapidly aggressive HeartBeat evident in Andrew’s chest. When Neil looked up at him and took a drag from the cigarette Andrew had tossed down there moments before, the one thing Andrew never wanted to happen did. His Heart appeared in front of him. It was an ugly little thing, bruised and scarred and almost unrecognizable as a Heart, but the face was one of pure love and adoration, the exact opposite of how Andrew felt. The excited little thing was ready to run after the stupid boy that caused these feelings, but before it could, Andrew pinned it down with one of his knives.
  • He wasn’t ready for this thing to give him away to Neil and the rest of the foxes, so Andrew trapped it in a jar lying around in his room and hid it under his bed. Of course this wasn’t the end. Andrew would repeatedly find the little guy had rolled the jar out from under the bed after interactions with Neil. He pretended not to see the heart’s increasing size and how the marks on it slowly faded with time.
  • Much to Andrew’s displeasure, Andrew returned to his dorm after the trip to Columbia that had him admitting his feelings to Neil to find the heart flying freely around the room trying to find a way to escape. Andrew was tired and instead of trying to capture the thing, he let it fly around the room. It went to the door, trying to fit through the cracks of the door. It also tried and  failed to open the window. The little Heart had grown to almost twice its original size, but it was still too small to do much of anything. Andrew put it in a box, and opened the window himself, smoking until he couldn’t hear the Heart bouncing around the box anymore.
  • Andrew was annoyed. He told Neil he hated him, and he meant it, but here they were on the roof again, Neil’s heart obviously beating, blush evident and bewildered with the new sensation. Apparently Neil enjoyed being hated. Despite this, Neil still had to audacity to ask about the other ten percent. He couldn’t tell him that the other ten percent was trapped in a box under his bed, so he didn’t. When Neil told him he wanted to see him lose control, Andrew could practically feel his Heart bursting out of the box.
  • Andrew kissed Neil. After months of denying and fighting it, he finally kissed the stupid scared boy he’d been infatuated with. When he pulled back, it was to see his Heart had broken free and was heading straight for Neil. Andrew tried to pull it from Neil’s shoulder but to his surprise, Neil stopped him, “No, it’s okay. How long have you been hiding it?”
    • “Is this another truth?” Andrew asked in return.
    • Neil shrugged. “If you want it to be.”
    • “Since I told you at Eden’s Twilight,” Neil’s face was one of delight and Andrew wanted to punch the look off of his face. Or maybe he wanted to kiss it.
  • After that, Andrew’s heart stayed close to Neil, often chilling in his pockets or somewhere it wasn’t seen. How it knew not to be obvious, Andrew wasn’t sure but he was thankful. It only came out when Neil confronted him later when the dorm was empty. This time, it wasn’t alone and as Neil told him “yes,” Neil’s own Heart popped out, reaching for Andrew. This changed everything.
  • Neil’s heart was hard to hide, and Andrew wasn’t sure if he wanted to. The effort it would take to keep it hidden was more exhausting that Andrew had the patience for. So the rest of the foxes caught on rather quickly. They assumed it was one sided, but they’d soon find out that was hardly the case.
  • Andrew found Neil’s bag after the riot and found his own heart trapped inside next to the phone Andrew had given him. Andrew was angry, as well as scared for Neil, but more angry that he gave up his heart and phone so willingly. In the hours that past, Andrew could see the cracks forming in his small heart and didn’t bother to hide it. The foxes watched cautiously as the cracks spread farther down the Heart. Neil’s own heart remained by Andrew’s side but mourned over the loss of Andrew’s own Heart.
  • But then the FBI came and soon they were reunited. Andrew’s Heart reached Neil faster than he did and Andrew no longer cared who saw because Neil was here and he was okay. He was damaged and bruised and scarred, just like Andrew was. Both their hearts were ruined little things, but they were happy together and Andrew thought that maybe these Hearts weren’t as bad as he initially thought they were.
Prompt #7 "I'm not blushing!"

Magnus opened his eyes slowly, giving them time to adjust to the morning sunlight that flooded his bedroom, bathing the room in a warmth that Magnus could feel even when he was tucked under numerous blankets.

As he woke, he realized a handful things. One, he still had his makeup on from the day before, so he curled a finger and let blue mist remove it for him. Two, he was only wearing a pair of black boxers, which he was positive weren’t his because he only owned tight boxer-briefs. Three, this was his and his boyfriend’s first morning waking up next to each other.

Magnus grinned at Alec’s sleeping face, only about a foot away from his own. Alec looked so peaceful when he slept, his features soft and his lips slightly parted. His dark hair was messy, but still looked as soft as a cloud, and Magnus couldn’t help but lift his hand to brush a piece away from Alec’s forehead.

Shadowhunters were light sleepers, Magnus knew, they had to be. Threats could rise at any time, and they had to be alert and ready to spring into action. So Magnus wasn’t surprised when Alec’s beautiful hazel eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

Alec’s smile was blinding. He looked absolutely stunning with his messy hair and sleep-clouded eyes and light stubble covering his jaw. Magnus took a mental picture, wanting to save that image for the rest of his immortal life.

Neither of them said anything. Magnus had shifter closer tangling his legs with his shadowhunter’s, placing a gentle hand on the soft black fabric covering Alec’s chest.

“Good morning.” Alec finally said, and damn, Magnus practically melted at how deep and throaty his voice sounded.

“It is, indeed.” Magnus replied with a smile. He probably looked like a lovestruck dork, but that’s exactly what he was, so he couldn’t care less.

Alec closed what little space was left between them, pressing a soft, close-mouthed kiss to Magnus’ lips. Magnus returned the kiss, tried to get Alec to part his lips, but his boyfriend’s lips stayed stubbornly pressed together.

The look that Magnus gave when they parted seemed to ask the question he’d been about to voice, because Alec shyly looked down at Magnus’ chest and said, “Morning breath.”

Magnus laughed, and Alec looked at him strangely before he lifted his hand. With a simple flourish and a few blue sparks, both of their mouths tasted of mint.

A wide grin spread across Alec’s face. “I love you.” He said as he leaned in again, this time parting his lips as he captured Magnus in a passionate kiss.

Neither of them had intentions of their kiss getting so heated, but things led to other things, and within minutes, Alec had pulled Magnus on top of him and Magnus was trying to get Alec’s shirt off.

Alec broke away from the kiss, and from the feeling of it, Magnus knew that Alec hadn’t wanted to.

“I have to be at the Institute in fifteen minutes.” Alec huffed out a strangled breath as Magnus attached his lips to the side of his neck.

“A lot can be done in fifteen minutes.” Magnus purred into his boyfriend’s ear, a hand sneaking down Alec’s body.

Alec seemed to give in for a few minutes. Magnus continued to work on Alec’s neck, paying extra attention to his sensitive Deflect rune, but Alec suddenly pulled away.

“I really have to go,” Alec started, shifting out from underneath Magnus. “As much as I want to…you know…do that,” he began, standing up. “I know that once we start, I won’t want to stop.”

Magnus took a minute to look his love over, a smirk on his face. Alec was wearing a black shirt, as usual, and a pair of loose forest green sweatpants. He rolled out from under the covers and stood up out of bed, Alec’s black boxers loose on his hips, threatening to fall down at any second.

“Go do your job, Mr. Lightwood.” Magnus smirked, moving to stand in front of Alec, who automatically moved to wrap his strong, runed arms around Magnus’ waist.

“I’ll call you later, promise,” Alec said before ducking down to peck Magnus on the lips. “One more thing before I go, though.”

Magnus was confused. He tilted his head to the side as Alec removed one arm from around his waist, bringing his hand up to brush a piece of un-styled hair out of his face.

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

Magnus froze. He hadn’t even realized that he didn’t have his glamour up. Had his warlock mark been showing the entire morning?

Then he remembered Alec looking at him so lovingly, Alec kissing him good morning, Alec smiling at him like he was the most gorgeous thing in the universe. All while his cat-eyes were unglamoured.

A deep blush creeped up Magnus’ neck, coloring his cheeks, making him feel hot.

“Your blush is also pretty beautiful, just saying.” Alec said with a lopsided grin, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ flaming cheek.

“I’m not blushing!” Magnus exclaimed, eyes on the ground, but he was smiling.

This all felt like a dream. His whole relationship with Alec felt like a dream, actually, too good to be true. He’d never felt this loved in his entire life. None of the 17,000 other lovers made Magnus feel the way that Alec made him feel. Alec accepted him for who he was, he wasn’t thrown off by his warlock mark, he treated Magnus with respect that he’d never received from any other shadowhunter.

When Magnus finally looked back up, his eyes still unglamoured, he saw Alec staring at him. There was so much love in his gaze, so much adoration in his smile.

And Magnus knew, right then, that Alec was the love of his life.


(wow, this got a bit out of hand in length, sorry!! i hope that you like it! check out my prompts post and inbox me prompts that you’d like me to write!!)

Making a Point // Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request: Hey there, can I ask for some heavy jealous smut cause Tommy is like very possessive??? Thanks a lot!

You awoke to the feeling of fingers running through your hair. Opening your eyes, you saw Tommy smiling down at you, his tanned skin glowing in the early-morning light. “Good morning, (Y/N),” he said, his voice raspy.

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2014. the thirteen bouncy balls. 

at school i keep a prize box (or treasure box) to reward students for good behavior. i fill the box with stickers, bracelets, small toys, little animals, erasers, and bouncy balls (my kids’ favorite). the children almost always choose the bouncy balls over the other items.

who can blame them? a bouncy ball is exciting! it jumps high in the air, rolls quickly across floors, and sometimes gets stuck under a bed. it’s tiny enough to hide in your palm or pocket and valuable enough not to share even if your brother or sister begs you. occasionally it gets lost and you feel a pang in your heart.

but it’s alright— your teacher has more waiting quietly in a box, waiting quietly for you.

the thirteen is a personal photo project that documents little things in my life that mean something special. every friday i’ll share a collection of items and a story of their importance.

Android Au drabble

A spotlight is flashed onto the dark stage, and the room goes silent. Slowly, a figure rises from the floor, letting off her own pink pulses as the spotlight follows her accent. A crystalline hum rings around the room, and the slave androids in the crowd ring it back towards her in sympathy. The pink android opens her eyes at the sound getting louder until the music starts. The android gently sways along to the beat of the music her eyes glazed over. The two in the back watch her, slowly taking each other’s hands. It was her.
   She starts to sing, much to the amusement of the humans sitting in the crowd. As her song rings out, the red one starts to step forward, before being pulled back by the one bathed in blue. They watch and listen to every word that leaves her lips.
  She sings of a home in the sky, shadows holding her, and her dream to return to the clouds. She sings of visions of grandeur and how she will never see them come true. She sings of a savior, a child, a cage, a love in exile, and her voice shakes ever so slightly.
   As she sings of separation, segregation, and the hopes of unity, two male voices join her from the back of the room. The humans have dropped their looks of amusement, as the red and the blue ones step forwards. The humans shrink back in fear, at the sight of these…grim reapers. They watch the humans in disgust, before jumping onto the stage, easily freeing the pink one of her chains. The red one quickly turns to the crowd, the most terrifying of his companions. Humans yell babble about a feline fighter bot, and lawbreakers before going silent as multiple claw-shaped knives enter their skulls. The blue one looks to the red proudly before taking hold of the pink one, and dashing out of the building, the inbuilt ribbons in his arms trailing behind him.

The trio stops to rest atop a building looking over the city. The blue one turns and finally speaks.
   “I’m glad we got you back Allura. The others are still missing but when we heard of a rare pink siren android in this district we came as soon as we could. Now that we have you, all we need to do is find the others. I’m glad we found you first honestly. You’re a huge asset to finding the others.”
   Allura smiles softly, the markings on her face glowing in happiness. She places a hand on her chest before letting out a sigh of relief.
   “I am thankful that you found me, Lance. You as well Keith.”
The red android perks up at the sound of his name, turning from where he was crouched at the edge of the building. Lance nods.
“Now that we got you, you can help us. We can all be a family again.”
Allura leans back, nodding slowly as her face lights slowly dim. She gives the boys one last smile before going into sleep mode.
   Keith watches her worry swimming in his eyes. Lance places a soft kiss on his cheek.
“She’s still on a performer battery setting. We can reset her into power saving mode tomorrow. We should let her sleep.”
   Keith nods, his ears twitching at every sound below them and around them. Lance stretches before leaning into the fighter bot beside him. Keith glanced at him nervously before speaking quietly.
   “If you need to talk,” he began as he laced his fingers with Lance’s
“I’m here for you. I know it’s hard for you to be in places like that.” He finished, glancing to the performer droid, his voice filled with comfort. Lance sighs at this and lets his smirk drop.
   “I know…but I don’t wanna talk about that for now.”
Keith nods, not wanting to push his husband any further.
   The androids look over the city, before stepping away from the edge of the building. A light panel is then projected into the air from Keith’s arm, a picture of a group of androids greeting his sight. He thought about their next lead. Rumors of a purple and black colored avian droid being the new bragging toy of a larger city.

Soon. They would find the others soon.


@klancept it is done

~ A Scrapped Fic: Honey ~

Request: I would love a Bucky smut where he and reader have to go undercover as a married couple.

Summary: You were supposed to go on an undercover mission with Steve, not the man you despised- James Buchanan Barnes. 

Warnings: smut, slight angst

A/N: This was the first attempt for an old request that I ended up writing a whole different story for and I reread what I had written and decided I didn’t actually hate it. So, I finished it and thought I’d post it. Here you go! Also, it’s 5:09 in the morning, I haven’t gone to bed yet, and I just finished writing this so I do apologize if anything is incoherent. Enjoy!


“You’ve got to be shitting me, Steve! I am not going on the mission with him.” You pointed at Bucky, dropping your bag to the ground. 

“Nat needs me on a mission with her, (Y/N), you two will get along fine.” He smiled and rested his hands on your shoulders. “I swear, it’ll be a painless mission. Just pretend you’re a married couple attending the wedding, alright?” 

“I can’t pretend to be married to him! He’s an ass!” You backed out of Steve’s grasp, frustrated that you knew there was no other option. “Damn it, Steve.” You sighed.

“Please, (Y/N).” He shot you his famous puppy dog eyes and pouted his lip. 

“Fine, but you fucking owe me one.” You picked up your bag and pushed passed him, avoiding eye contact with Bucky as you approached the Quinjet.

“I thought Steve was going on the mission with you…” Clint spun around in the pilot’s seat, looking worryingly between the two of you.

“Steve’s out helping Nat with a mission, he asked me to take his place.” Bucky flashed a smile at Clint.

“Fair enough.” Clint turned, starting the engine.

You were fuming. You hated Barnes; the two of you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than five minutes without chewing each other out. Barnes was just going to complicate things, he was going to ruin the mission.

“Be safe you guys!” Clint called to the two of you as you stepped out of the jet, and started walking into the airport terminal. You thanked Clint for having an inside friend at the airport, allowing him to land there and not in some random field. 

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Catsitting | Kyungsoo

Pairing: Kyungsoo x reader
Genre: fluff, slight-but-not-really angst, Hybrid!AU
Words: 6.6k+

You somehow find yourself ‘catsitting’ for your best friend while he’s on a week-long trip. The only problem? His ‘cat’ hates you.

Originally posted by glorious-soobooty


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Headcanon: Kara always tries to stay awake until Lena gets home late from work but she’s really bad at it. So she always half asleep on the couch with some tv show playing when Lena gets home. And lena just sighs and shakes her head grinning at Kara’s face smooshed into a pillow and she goes to their room to get into pajamas before coming back and turning off the tv and waking up Kara with soft forehead kisses and whispered babes and gently pulls on her hand guiding a half asleep murmuring kara to their bedroom. 

Imagine You Have a Rare Disorder

You’re a sophomore in college when you start noticing some odd changes.Every month, about two weeks after your period, you’re easily distracted, especially by men. A professor’s cologne in the hallway can send you into a wild daydream that makes your cheeks flush and pupils dilate. As a conservative girl saving yourself for marriage, you’re worried, so you make an appointment with a counselor. The counselor reassures you that feeling more easily aroused during ovulation is perfectly normal.

Month by month, the symptoms gradually get worse, but you do your best to work around them. You start packing several extra pairs of panties in your schoolbag on “those days,” because by mid-morning, you’ve soaked through the originals and are paranoid about the smell. You drop an art history class because the male anatomy on display makes you lose all concentration; you avoid the gym two days a month for the same reason.

* * *

By the middle of your junior year, your symptoms have worsened drastically. Not only do you get wet and flushed at the slightest suggestion of testosterone, but thanks to your hypersensitive clit and lips, you’re also prone to spontaneous orgasms. Thankfully, there is usually at least a second or two of buildup, which enables you to brace yourself and disguise the climax when in public. But with each new cycle, your orgasms are triggered more randomly, and they’re becoming longer and stronger.

You eventually figure out that you can stop having orgasms at inconvenient times… if you release the tension yourself, at regular intervals. So when you feel the onset of your heat, in addition to extra panties, you pack a massive vibrator and spare batteries. (You try using a more discreet one at first, but you seem to build up a tolerance to it; it isn’t long before you’ve upgraded to the biggest one on the market.) Whenever you get a chance between classes, you run to the nearest private washroom and unwrap the silicone savior with clammy, shaking hands. You can’t rip your panties down and shove it in fast enough. You brace yourself on the edge of the sink with your left hand, convulsing again and again as you thrust the vibe into yourself with your right, panting like a bitch in heat, exploding with fluid nearly every time, fluid that somehow never runs out, fluid that streams down your hand and thighs and soaks your jeans and puddles on the floor until your body finally gets what it needs. You clean your vibrator as well as you can, touch up your makeup, and make the most of the few hours of freedom that follow.    

After hitting rock bottom in your parents’ bathroom over Easter weekend, you finally put your denial aside long enough to do some research. As you feared all along, none of this is normal. Not even close. You see a GP, who refers you to a series of specialists.

The invasive examinations inevitably cause you to dig your nails into the paper and climax violently. Each doctor awkwardly asks if you’d like to reschedule, but you beg them to keep going, to find out what’s wrong.

* * *

It turns out that what’s wrong is your ovaries.

Or rather, your extra ovaries.

As the MRI scans show, you currently have three pairs of full-sized ovaries, plus at least a dozen more pairs of varying sizes, all growing rapidly. This steady but dramatic escalation in fertility has been causing you to get increasingly high on your own hormones each month.

The doctors believe that a genetic mutation is probably involved, but agree that in the short term, the ovaries will need to be surgically removed before your symptoms get any worse.

Unfortunately, the only surgeon qualified for this procedure is booked solid for another month. The doctors estimate that you will have a fourth pair of functional ovaries by then, so your next ovulation – due in three weeks - is likely to be even more intense than the last.

“It is absolutely essential,” intones the gynecologist, “that you use birth control responsibly in the meantime, and ideally that you refrain from sexual intercourse of any kind.”

“I’m abstinent by choice,” you reply proudly. “I may need to physically… handle… my urges, but when it comes to guys, I can control myself.”

“Ah… well, even so,” the neurologist says, frowning, “You can’t afford to take any chances in your condition. Even if you’ve stayed out of trouble so far, your hormones have already caused serious behavioral changes over the past year. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I highly doubt that your purity ring will stand much of a chance once that fourth pair matures.”

“And if you get pregnant during this kind of ovulation, we’re looking at guaranteed multiples,” warns the obstetrician. “You don’t need that on top of everything else. Incidentally, we’ve also detected some other hormonal and physical abnormalities that may have repercussions on pregnancy – we’re still waiting on those tests. So for those reasons, you really need to do everything in your power to prevent impregnation for the time being. Okay?”

The other doctors concur. They prescribe a birth control pill, sedatives to calm your nerves during your next ovulation, and a morning-after pill (“in case something happens”). They also recommend that you employ female supervision, and perhaps even physical restraints, to keep you from having sex with a man before your surgery.

After your appointment, you go to the pharmacy and buy the sedatives, but you crumple the other prescriptions into a ball and toss them in a trash can. Birth control? Plan B? Restraints? How dare they. You’ve gotten this far without their condescending advice. Your body may have betrayed you, but your virtue has been unflagging through it all.

And it won’t let you down now.

* * *

In the days before your next heat, you get ready. You fill your studio apartment with food, water, vibrators, and batteries. You get a vague doctor’s note from a clinic and reschedule an exam. You plan to take a double dose of sedatives as soon as you feel your time coming on, which will hopefully make the physical distress more manageable.

You’re a little nervous, but you’re sure that if you stick to the plan and stay indoors, everything will be okay.

* * *

…You come into heat a full day ahead of schedule, in the middle of the night, your hormones surging and overwhelming you so quickly that they jolt you awake.

“Ohh… oh God…”

You fumble for the lamp on your nightstand, manage to switch it on. Your need is already at a critical level; this is happening too fast.

You try to think. What was it you needed to do? You needed to take… something…

“Nghhaaahhhhh— oh fuck, fuck, fuck…”

It’s no use, you can’t remember. The plan is gone. All you can think about is filling yourself, now. You yank the nightstand drawer off its rails; the vibrator rolls under the bed.

“No! Shit! Wh-where… is…”

As you drop a foot to the ground to get out of bed, your pussy brushes against the edge of the mattress.

“Ahhhh… fuuuuuuuck!”

An orgasm rocks through you. You hold on for dear life. This is not how it usually goes. Usually you have much more time before it gets this intense.

The orgasm drops off, and your desperate arousal instantly returns. Carefully this time, you lower yourself to the ground and grope around frantically for the vibrator. It’s no use; you can’t locate it.

As if enraged by your failure, the throbbing heat in your hugely engorged clit and lips flares inward and upward, inflaming every square millimeter of tissue between entrance and cervix.

“Haaaaahhhhhhhhh… oh God! Oh God please fuhh—ooooohhhhhh God…!”

You’re out of your depth now. Even with your biggest vibrator, you’d be powerless to meet this kind of demand. You’ve never experienced anything like this before.

And yet, shuddering alone in the darkness, you recognize it. It’s your primal instruction, your absolute purpose. But to overcome your own refusal of it, you need to say it out loud, to hear yourself name it.

“Need to… m-make…”

You sob as tears flood your eyes. You try again.

“I… need to make… babies…”

Your innermost Truth is so beautiful, so simple. You want to kill yourself for denying it for so long. But if you do that, your babies will never grow inside you, will never be born. And that would be a thousand times worse that death.

Lurching to your feet, you manage to soothe yourself slightly by murmuring your Truth under your breath. It’s the only thing that gets you from your bed to your door without collapsing.

Need to make my babies. Oh my babies, oh so many, oh so big and strong. My babies. They’re going to grow so strong, so big, so many, so many, so many, my beautiful, precious babies.

You find yourself going down the hall. Your body leads the way; your mind follows by quite a distance. Even so, you know where you’re going, because it’s the only place that exists anymore.

The apartment next door, where the young male lives.

* * *

There’s light under his door – he’s a night owl. You knock. No answer. You knock again.

Footsteps.

When the male sees you in his doorway, his look of annoyance turns to shock. You’re wearing a threadbare t-shirt that accentuates your erect nipples. A gold crucifix pendant. No panties.

Before he can say a word, you shove a hand down his boxers. Just the sight and smell of the male should have caused you to climax immediately, let alone the warmth of his thick member, but your adrenaline-fueled sense of purpose buys you some time.

Staring up at him with your hugely dilated pupils, you manage to communicate some of your Truth as you stroke him hard, but you can feel your furious need surging once more.

“Y-you… you need you to fffuck me and put… put you cum-m in… ahh— inside me. Right now-ohhhhh. Ahhh—f-fuck. I’m gonna… I’m gonna come, but it’s just–haaahhhh… shit… listen… y-you need to fuck me after this bec-auunhhhaaahhhhse… haaaaah… becauss’ I need to get so fucking ­big I can’t move… and I… I need… my… my… my precious babi— oh! Oh God!-AAAHHHNNNN—!!!” You barely have time to pull your hand away and throw both arms up against the doorframe before an orgasm seems to electrocute your entire body from within. You feel more liquid than ever gush out of you, and your vision blurs.

When the world comes back into focus, you look up to find abject horror in the male’s eyes. But it doesn’t matter; you know without even looking that his cock is hard as iron. You stumble past him into the flickering light of his TV. There’s a beat-down, stain-covered couch against a wall. You kneel, facing backwards, on one of its filthy cushions, gripping the seat back for dear life with both hands. Then you raise your ass and display your throbbing wet entrance to the male. You pray silently, feverishly, not daring to look behind you.

My babies. Need to feel my babies and grow them and make them, so many, so big and so strong and so precious. Please God, please God, I need my babies, my babies, oh please… fuck, fuck, why isn’t it in me yet? Why isn’t he filling me with my babies? Please, please, I can’t take this anymore…!

But just as you’re about to turn around, you feel big, warm hands on your hips, and finally, finally, the male plunges into you.

* * *


Thanks for reading,
Body Hostage