so i was gone last week!!!

A Call To Arms  because i’m feeling like shit...

Both mentally and physically. 

Physically i feel like a 15 year old spaniel… overweight and struggling to breathe. My Asthma has been triggered by pollen allergies and a cough. I’m exhausted. I go to cough but all i can do is wheeze like Mutley. 

Mentally… yeah that’s not good either. Friday was obviously very stressful for me (it was the anniversary of my child that passed away’s birthday), and i had been spending every night last week until gone midnight working on my crafts, only to go to a craft fair on saturday and not sell a single thing. Not a damn thing. People making comments that because my stuff was ‘so good’ it had to be ‘made in a factory in china’… (WTF???), so all that hard work literally for nothing, and the general public not having faith in handmade crafts could be handmade as they were too good… FML.

So please feel free to send nice things my way. Anything. Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, hell, even Hiddles and Hemsworth. Funny shit. Karl Urban/Star Trek stuff. SPN stuff that isn’t too depressing. Cute dogs. Photos, vids and fanfics. 

sugar sweet (and stuff)

i deleted my ao3 last week for personal reasons but i don’t want my fics from there to be gone forever! so i’ll upload them directly to tumblr for lack of a better alternative

genre: fluff
warnings: none
rating: T? there’s some vague mentions of sex but it never gets there

This kiss was slow and comfortable and felt like home. Akira did everything he could to take it all in, to burn this moment into his mind forever. He tried to memorize the clean scent of Isamu’s well-cared-for skin and every freckle on it.

Keep reading

4

Here’s a crazy story.

Early in September, I went to the animal shelter and fell in love with Waldorf. I was not in a place to adopt him but I knew he was my cat. I could tell the second he looked at me. The first pic is him, from that day.

I went to adopt him and he was gone. I figured he had been adopted because he was such an amazing cat.

Fast forward to last week. Kevin and I were looking to adopt a kitten, but before we could he got adopted. So we looked around at other local shelters and we found Waldorf! He had been transferred to Edmonton to increase his chances of being adopted.

So I adopted him.

8

                                     You may be gone
                     But out here in the desert
   Your shadow lives on without you

Happy White Day!

So, so, sorry for the delayed hiatus! First I had Katsucon, then I was visiting Japan over the last two weeks, and somehow I thought I was going to be able to draw 4 pages while I was gone, hahaha… As it is my laptop charger didn’t play nice so I had to finish this when I got home, haha… (Shoutout to @yaexrae​ for helping with kimono choices!) 

To see what I was up to in Japan (Tokyo, Kobe, and Kyoto!) I tweeted about it at saccharinesylph on twitter! C:

So! Back to our regularly scheduled Hollow-ing on Thursday! (for real, honest.)

I just imagine how Jon and Thayet’s intelligence briefings must have gone during the Immortals series.

“The girl you met last week just called a Kraken up from the depths to attack enemy ships. Oh, and she has a dragon now.”

“So the wildmage and Salmalin went to visit a local noble, and they think some wolves have uncovered a plot to usurp the throne. And, uh, I’m not sure how to say this, sire, but she can apparently turn into animals???”

“You know how much you hate Stormwings? And Emperor Ozorne? Well, funny thing about that, Your Majesties….”


(Basically, Daine is amazing)

I Smoked A Dead Man's Cigarette.

I smoked a dead man’s cigarette,

earlier today.

Pulled it from his rotting hand,

lit up, and puffed away…

It was nice to have some company,

to sit and chat awhile,

Even if even if he was quiet,

and had a bleeding, rat-chewed smile.

I drank some lady’s coffee;

(She was dead. She didn’t care.)

I told her I was lonely,

But she just stared her glazey stare.

I haven’t wanted to eat much,

which is good; there’s not much to eat–

Rats have gotten most of the food,

and the bodies are maggoty meat.

It’s been a week since the bombs rained down,

and I thought everybody was gone,

But tonight I heard sounds–shuffling and growls–

So I’m awake, just waiting for dawn…

Almost wishing something would kill me,

And end all this fear and grief….

When you’re the last one, at the end of the world,

Death just comes as relief.

Neil gets sick and is a dumbass and won’t admit it

Neil was stumbling over his feet. He’d gone alone to an early practice, just running drills on the court. He thought that was what his aching muscles were crying out for, to be used again since he’d been benched for an ankle injury last week. He was so focussed on getting back onto the court he pushed the thoughts of ‘my head really doesn’t feel good’ and ‘I shouldn’t be this warm’ to the back of his mind.

He ran through drills for an hour, thought he should stop, but then ran though another hour of drills before his legs gave out on him and he knew he needed to leave. But it was still 6am as he stumbled through to the locker room and he wasn’t getting back to sleep again after the nightmare that had woken him up so instead he showered but the water burned him so he knocked the temperature down as low as it would go. He was still too warm.

As he dressed he grabbed his coat to shrug it on but the heat was suffocating so he shoved it into his locker and walked out into the late December morning in nothing but a t-shirt. The cold air soothed his boiling skin as he spent an hour walking around before he walked to a coffee shop close to campus. He got a strange look from the early morning barista when he ordered and iced drink to go with his coat-less attire.

Neil tucked himself into a corner of the shop and started sipping his drink. He didn’t realise that he had fallen asleep until buzzing in his pocket woke him seven hours later. The same barista still lingered at the counter and seemed to be studiously ignoring Neil. Neil vaguely recalled someone trying to wake him earlier and wondered what had happened after that. He decided that he didn’t want to know but left $40 on the counter on his way out just in case it was something bad.

He answered the call when he’d let the door close behind him. Andrew didn’t say anything at first and just waited patiently for an explanation from Neil as to where the hell he had been since before Andrew woke up.

“I’m at the coffee shop. Can you come get me? And… and bring me some long sleeved shirts too.” Andrew wasn’t sure what to say to that, the coffee shop was a ten minute walk away but he went and picked up some shirts for Neil and a hoodie of his own and headed to his car.

He pursed his lips when he pulled up at the curb to see Neil in a short sleeved shirt and no coat. Neil didn’t seem to register that Andrew had pulled up so Andrew leaned over and opened passenger door in front of Neil. When Neil still didn’t react he threw the clothes at him. Neil tugged on the shirts and then the hoodie and climbed into the car. He didn’t say a word in explanation to Andrew but his mouth felt like sandpaper and he was just so tired and he thought that if he opened his mouth he wouldn’t be able to keep down whatever meagre contents might be in his stomach.

Andrew parked the car and waited. For Neil to say something, or for Neil to move, and Neil wasn’t sure which it was, but he wasn’t really up to either. he could feel Andrew’s probing gaze on him and decided that moving was to best option, and going to the library would be a good idea. he was getting behind on some classes and now he had a warm jacket he could walk there.

“Thanks.” Neil muttered as he hopped out of the car. He was off before Andrew had time to follow and got lost in a crowd of students so Andrew couldn’t follow him.

The hours in the library had Neil turning off his phone to stop Andrew calling him. Eventually he conceded that he had to go back. His stomach was alternating from about to throw up to completely starving and he couldn’t sleep in the library. Or practice. And he really needed to go to practice. Plus, having sat down for so long he felt a lot better than he had been earlier. In fact, he was fine. And that is exactly what he felt when he walked through the door.

He’d turned his phone back on while he was on the way home. He had more missed calls than he liked to think about, and several angry texts. Not that they really looked angry, but Neil knew that they were. He was determined to be fine and so he was.

”I’m fine.“ Neil announced as he rubbed at a pain in his forehead.

Andrew bristled at the answer to his unasked question when Neil walked into the room. He thought they’d got over this bullshit kind of answer but apparently not. He slowly and purposefully closed the book he had been not really been reading and put it on the floor. He did nothing else as he watched Neil pad around the kitchen and half pull food from the cup cupboards before putting it straight back again. After ten minutes of watching this Andrew gave up and poured Neil a bowl of cereal himself and placed it on the counter. Neil had just stopped. He didn’t seem to be moving or breathing.

Neil moved to the counter sluggishly when his brain caught up with what Andrew had done. He sat in front of the bowl with his elbows on the counter and let a spoon hang from his fingers. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Andrew cocked his head to the side a little. It wasn’t concern. It was curiosity.

Neil’s dark hoodie hung loosely from his body and, despite multiple long sleeved layers beneath, he was shivering. Andrew noticed, because when would Andrew not notice, and immediately went to boil some water. Coffee probably wouldn’t help Neil, so he opted for making hot honey and lemon. Since the stubborn git wasn’t going to tell him that what was actually wrong with him any time soon, Andrew settled with doing little things, for now, until he could get Neil to talk, which would be at practice in a few hours.

It took Neil a painful half hour to eat the bowl of cereal in front of him. Each mouthful made his stomach turn and bile rise to burn the back of his throat. But he was fine and he had to be fine because if he wasn’t then he was sick and if he was sick he couldn’t protect himself and if he couldn’t protect himself…

Neil’s breath started coming in short, sharp gasps as the panic started to set in and he sank off the stool. His brain ran at a hundred miles an hour as the self deprecating thoughts filtered into his mind. Not good enough. Useless. Going to get them killed. Get in the fucking drivers seat, Neil, and drive- Oh you idiot, you’re going to kill us! His mother’s voice screamed at him over and over.

Andrew could see Neil’s panic beginning. Breathless mutterings of ‘I’m fine’ over and over again. It was only after shouting at the idiot to shut up three times that Andrew realised that Neil wasn’t talking to him, that Neil wasn’t just panicking, he was having some sort of flash back.

Andrew ran a hand through his hair, muttering ‘fuck’ repeatedly under his breath as he tried to figure out what to do for the best. Touching Neil to bring him out of his panic wouldn’t end well for either of them so he had to settle for kneeling in front of Neil and talking to him until he could hear.

Andrew’s voice filtered into Neil’s hearing slowly. To begin with, he couldn’t discern it from all the other voices in his head to begin with, but it was the only one calling him Neil and not one of the many other names he had gone through in his life.

“A-Andrew?” He stuttered out through his panicked gasps.

“Yeah, junkie, you’re ok.”

“I’m- I’m,” Neil stammered through his gasps. “And- Andre-”

“Shh, you’re safe, you’re ok, but I need you to listen to me, alright?” At Neil’s feeble nod Andrew continued. “Ok, I’m going to put your head on my chest, is that ok?” Neil nodded again, still gasping in his panic. His vision was fading at the edges, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. “Ok. I need you to breathe with me. Just follow the rhythm of my chest. Wherever you think you are, you’re not. We’re at Fox tower. You’re name is Neil Josten, you’re a striker and a junkie with a big mouth and you are safe. You are allowed to be sick. But damn, you’re a dumbass.”

“H-hey!”

“You should have said something, now you’ve gone and made it worse, idiot.”

“So-sorry.”

“It’s ok, just keep breathing with me.”

When Neil had calmed down enough to breathe on his own Andrew led him to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Get warm, junkie.” Neil looked as if he was about to reply but instead just nodded his head and moved under the steady stream of hot water. Andrew sat himself in the bedroom and waited.

When Neil walked in he was dressed in loose fitting pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that looked several sizes too big for him. Andrew just pointed at Neil’s bed in a silent command for him to get the fuck into it and stay there.

“I’m fi-”

“Shut up. Get into bed.” Andrew stalked off to the kitchen and brought a glass of water and some pain killers back with him. He’d seen the way Neil was rubbing his head earlier.

Neil took the tablets and water silently but didn’t take them. It was a show of how ‘fine’ he was. Andrew just glared at him until he gave in.

“Go to sleep. And I swear to god if I see you at practice tomorrow I will gut you.”

“Andrew, I’m-”

“No. No you are not ‘fine’ and if you say you are fucking fine again I will be gutting you sooner than I thought. You are sick. You need to rest. Get that through that thick, junkie skull of yours and go to sleep. No one needs saving, the only person that needs saving right now is you from yourself and that’s my job so lay the fuck down and listen to me, dammit.” Neil just raised an eyebrow. Andrew sounded bored but when Neil didn’t listen and lay down there was a rather forceful shove to his chest that made him.

“Sleep.” Andrew glared.

“I- fine.”

Andrew left the room muttering something about ‘fucking exy junkies’ and their ‘fucking lack of self preservation’ and ‘why the fuck do I put up with this’ as Neil drifted off to sleep.

Okay y’all so I’m back from NYC

And I wanted to give you all a little background on this vanilla man that I have been going on for the past week or so. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t even unpacked the stuff from our NYC trip last week. Anyways, back to the story. 


So it all started when I broke up with my ex and made my first Tinder account ever(using my real information and all). At this point, I had not entered the bowl and hadn’t put much thought into sugaring at all. I was just trying to sleep around to get over the stuff with my ex (not a good idea btw). Over this period, I matched with over 700 guys. Went on dates, some high and some dry. The last vanilla Tinder date I had gone on was with my now vanilla bf that I previously mentioned. At the same time we started dating, I matched with this (what seemed to be white) man. All of his pictures were professionally taken with graffiti in the background… in front of murals and stuff. So we start talking and instantly connect because it turns out we have the same area code. He owns a beach house in the part of Florida where I’m from. All this takes place back in June btw* So we text and text almost everyday. Even Facetime sometimes. He was in the process of buying a home in Baltimore so he was too busy to make the trip to the part on Maryland in which I live. Things progressed with my now-boyfriend so after all that penpal stuff, I finally stopped texting back(I had sworn off anything vanilla-like or with vanilla tendencies because I have strong feelings for my boyfriend). This man would send me message after message, day after day. “Hey lil mama” “Hey what’s up?” “What happened to you?” I would just ignore ignore ignore. So the message he sent that got me to respond finally said “What happened to traveling and shopping?” At this point, I was a bit flabbergasted that he wanted to do that with me since I hadn’t responded in weeks. I took that and ran with it just to see what he would say. I responded “Hey babe, sorry I haven’t been responding, my screen on my phone is busted and I’m messaging you from my laptop but its broken too. Text me at [insert sugar number]” So he texted me and the first thing he said was “Do you need a new iPhone? I can’t have you walking around with no phone.” Keep in mind this is a complete lie. My screen had cracked but it was nothing major and I just went and got a new screen the next day. So I responded “No sweetheart. I’m more concerned about my laptop being stupid since I have school and stuff. It’s been stressful.” He responded “What day are you available? We will go get you a new Macbook” So I responded “Sunday”. We texted a little more but fast forward to Sunday. So he drives into the city from Baltimore and I suggest we go to Georgetown because there is an Apple store and a bunch of other cool spots and restaurants. He agreed so we went to Georgetown and my oh my was it an experience! We ate lunch first then headed to Sephora where I racked up a $400 bill… He covered it with no questions asked. Same thing happened at American Apparel, LUSH, and Zara. No bill was less than $400. I was in complete shock. Luckily, we had parked close to the Apple store so we went into the store, I picked out the computer I wanted and boom! He handed the man $1500 cash. Again, completely stunned.  After we left Georgetown, we headed to my favorite nail salon (Mimosa Salon in Dupont Circle) and my favorite restaurant(Hot n Juicy Crawfish in Woodley Park). We talked and laughed and it was all cool. He drove me home and didn’t even ask for a kiss or anything… It was such a pleasant experience. 

Fast forward to Tuesday, we’re texting and somehow we got on the topic of my favorite city(NYC). He said “let’s go tomorrow” and I was like “yeah alright” sarcastically.. He asked me what time I wanted him to pick me up and sure as hell this man was at my house at 6:30 pm ready to go to NYC. So we drive to NYC and it’s such a fun road trip! We ended up staying two nights in the Trump Soho(everything was booked.. killed me to stay there). Shopped at Louis Vuitton(finally got that Neverfull), Topshop, HM x Kenzo, Zara, and Bloomingdale’s. We had amazing food! The whole trip was perfect.. It all ended with a 90 minute couples massage at the Trump spa which was just pure bliss. So I got to talking with him and he told me he really wanted to come to NYC to purchase a $33,000 Presidential Rolex that he had his eye on… I was literally in total shock. So he went to try it on and it looked good! He told me we’d have to come back up to get it because he didn’t have the cash on him ( he only pays cash for everything. Apparently he doesn’t trust banks). So we leave NYC and head home. 


Fast forward to Monday, he texts me and asks me if I want to take a day trip to NYC to go grab the watch and the Stuart Weitzman boots I had my eye on. I said of course, knowing that a day trip would turn into an overnight one, which it did. We stayed right in the heart of Times Square at the Crowne Plaza. So last night when we arrive (we took the train this time), we walked in Times Square which was crazy because it was election night. I ran into this little store called Laline? I had never heard of it but the diffusers, whipped body wash, and scrubs were all right up my alley. I rang up a $200 tab and he covered it with no hesitation. So we eat then head back to the hotel devastated after watching the election results. Fast forward to this morning… We woke up and headed straight to get the watch because he “didn’t want to walk around with all that bread on him”. He asked me if I could hold the money in my bag since he couldn’t fit it all in his pocket. I said no problem and we checked out of the hotel. So we get to the diamond district and while the guy is preparing the watch, we have to go to another store to get a gold chain for his friend that wanted one. So while he was dealing with the guy, I was looking a pair of diamond earrings.. Just looking. Then he was like “you like those? try em on” so I tried them on and they were gorgeous and he told dude “just add these”. $2000 diamond studs yall.. Just like that. So we paid for the stuff and left to pick up the watch.. Then we headed to Stuart Weitzman to grab the boots($900 bill) and Century 21($500). We ate(twice) then headed back to the train to head home. When I tell yall the best part of alllll of this is that this man won’t even look at me naked! Didn’t try to  have sex one time. Just wants me to rub my fingers through his hair. Sneak a kiss every now and then but for right now, nothing. It’s so crazy yall! I’m almost worried… Anyways.. We had some talk about the kinds of cars I like and he said “hmmm we’ll have to see what Santa does for Christmas because you definitely need a car” so my fingers are totally crossed… 

Sorry for the delay on the story!! 

Stay sweet!

I used to hate fucking up.

Well, who doesn’t. Failure sucks. Making mistakes sucks. I would work myself into a hideous state trying to avoid it. And then when it inevitably happened anyway, either because perfectionist self-sabotage kicked in or because sometimes your best isn’t good enough, I would hate myself.

Anyway I was thinking about this because I was teaching a lesson last week and the kids I was teaching spotted a mistake in how I’d graded their work. It was a big, embarrassing, obvious error, and I’d made it several times. They showed me where I’d gone wrong, and the bit of the textbook that they’d all read and I clearly hadn’t, and it should have been super embarrassing.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

It was so good watching them be confident enough to correct their teacher. They clearly thought it was weird I wasn’t bothered. But I was so proud of them! And if they hadn’t corrected me, I would have gone on being wrong!

‘I love making mistakes,’ I told them without thinking about it, still grinning. ‘It means I learned a thing.’

They stared a bit, but then they were like: huh. Okay. The lesson kept going. And they were a little less cautious about saying what they thought than usual. After all, making mistakes is fine.

Sure, part of me was thinking stuff from teacher training - every part of a lesson is teaching, not just the parts where you’re talking about your subject; you’re a Functional Adult role model as well as a source of specialist knowledge; if you don’t demonstrate how to handle errors and setbacks then the kids will not learn how to do it -

but like. It wasn’t an act. I genuinely was super happy I made that mistake, and made it in front of them, and learned from it. Once I wouldn’t have been. But I spent enough time faking ‘failure is not a big deal’ for Role Model purposes that it turned out to be true.

Sure, fucking up sucks. But it’s also kind of great. It means you learned a thing.

Steamy Apology. (m)

Jin x Reader

Genre: Smutty smut, fluff

Word count: 5,264 

Based off of this request ♡

Summary: It’s not unusual for Jin to leave on tour for long periods of time. But, it is unusual when you don’t hear from him at all while he’s gone this time. So when he comes home with a guilt stricken heart, he insists on making it up to you in more ways than one.

a/n: was this too much plot?? ;-; idk i got really into it and really enjoyed writing it, it’s probably my favorite so far, but i understand if you guys just skip to the smut lmao

Originally posted by syubbie

It was a gloomy, Sunday morning. The last morning with your boyfriend, Jin, for a month. 4 whole grueling weeks. It was almost like the sky was mourning with you. 

You thought you would grow used to Jin leaving for x amount of time to go on tour with his hugely successful music group called BTS. But, each time seemed to prove you wrong as it felt like your heart was being yanked out and taken with him every time he left. It’s not like you could tell him not to go or get mad at him for leaving, you just wish it didn’t hurt so bad watching him wave goodbye to you and blow one last kiss your way before being dragged into the car by his group members.

Of course you guys text and call when you can to lessen the loneliness. Occasionally skyping when his hotels have good enough service. But it doesn’t help with the tossing and turning all through the night, helplessly feeling for him through the empty sheets, or eating convenient store ramen alone in front of the tv. Even accompanied by the voices from the screen, your apartment is always deafeningly quite with him here.
You let out a deep sigh and pulled the covers over your head.

Keep reading

Giving & Taking Pt.04 (M)

Luckily I was able to find some time to write this. I hope you guys are enjoying the series so far! Feel free to let me know what you think. There is now 3 more parts left in the series. I will continue to post once a week. As always please enjoy! <3

Warnings: Graphic smut, Oral sex, & Sexual Intercourse

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, & College AU

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 2,906

Pt.01 Pt.02 Pt.03 Pt.05

Originally posted by scaredful

A week had gone by since the last time you saw Jungkook and honestly, nothing had changed. Namjoon and you were ‘ok’ and you were still keeping busy with school and work. One of the servers at your job had quit which meant you were working over time. You were exhausted, but you still had a term paper to write. 

Hana had friends over tonight and there was no way you were going to get any work done. All you could hear was giggling and screeching voices coming from the living room. Finally, you decided it was probably best for you to go to the coffee shop and try to get some work done there. Plus you definitely needed the caffeine too. 

On the bright side, the coffee shop was practically empty. You figured on a Friday night college students would much rather be drinking beer rather than coffee. You chatted up the barista for a few minutes before settling down on the table that was tucked away in the corner.  Immediately you dove into the term paper you had been attempting to write earlier. 

You had probably been in the coffee shop for almost two hours now, and your eyes were starting to sting from staring at your laptop screen too much. The cute barista brought you over a refill without you even asking for it. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting or just being nice. Considering there was no one else in the shop he was probably just bored and needed to do something. 

You took this as a sign to take a break. You sipped on your coffee and checked your phone. All you had was a text from Namjoon asking if you wanted to come over to his since he was having a few friends over. That was nearly two hours ago, you figured there was no point in texting him back since he was probably drunk or high by now. 

You were mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed when you heard the little chime on the door ring signaling that someone had come in. You didn’t bother to look up. The barista greeted the customer and then you heard it. Was that Jungkook’s voice? You shot your head up and your eyes made contact with none other than Jungkook’s. He was staring right at you, he gave you a slight smile and ordered his drink. 

Keep reading

Please Come Home for Christmas

Bucky x Reader Christmas Oneshot

Summary – You were injured in the last mission, so the team left you at the compound while they went to take care of a Hydra threat. They’ve been gone a week and you’re not sure if Bucky’s going to make it home to spend his first Christmas with you. Based off of Kelly Clarkson’s song Please Come Home for Christmas.

Warnings – A little bit of violence and death and a whole lot of Christmas fluff!

Word Count – 921

Notes – Three of these Christmas Oneshots will be based off of some Christmas songs!  I haven’t written a lot of song fics, but these three songs are some of my favorites and I absolutely love Kelly Clarkson!  I hope you enjoy!  As always, any comments or questions are greatly appreciated!  

This one is dedicated to Nicole @buckyywiththegoodhair!   Merry Christmas, sweetie!!

Masterlist

Christmas Fic Masterlist 

Originally posted by dancing-through-life777

 

Bells will be ringing the glad, glad news
Oh what a Christmas to have the blues
My baby’s gone I have no friends
To wish me greetings once again

You were still silently cursing the Hydra agent that got the drop on you during your last mission.  He had snuck up behind you while you were watching Bucky’s back and you ended up with a knife buried in your thigh.  Without missing a beat, you’d pulled the knife free and repaid the favor, except you had aimed for the heart.  Bucky had immediately picked you up and had taken you back to the Quinjet, but the damage was done, you were out of commission for the next few weeks.

Keep reading

HEY GUYS. i know the news about last night’s devastating decision is wreaking havoc throughout the world, but i plan on keeping my little nooks of the internet safe spaces. i’ll continue doing the same goofy things, because i know there are a handful of people that depend on it sometimes. and i’m happy to try and make as many people as possible pick themselves up and continue fighting for a better tomorrow.

love, support, and stick up for each other. we can help subdue the dumpster fire

SasuSaku Smut Week
Risqué

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Title: Unlike Last Time
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Summary: They are finally back to the forest of Death. Years have passed since that terrifying experience, and just like the leaves of those tall trees, both of them have changed and matured from their childish forms.
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A/N: This will be my only entry for the SS smut week because of the SS month, so I’ll try to write a long, detailed and smutty fic! I’m not good at writing this, but I’m really excited with this idea! Also, if you just want the smut scene, I’m already warning you that I WILL write an entire background story before. I can’t simply write them doing it for nothing. I hope you enjoy it, and please, leave me a Review!
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Note: Sternocleidomastoid is one one the muscles of your neck. Just making it clear because that was something I added because of my love for anatomy XD

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Rated M
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It has been a long time since they have last visited that haunted place. Years have gone by, seasons have come and gone; and still, nothing seems to have changed.

Lives have ended and started; and yet, stepping into these woods is still as uncomfortable as it used to be when they were younger. The forest of Death is still as frightening as when they first participated in the Chūnin exams, and not even their current ninja status prevents shivers from moving down their spines.

This place is still that same hell-hole forgotten by the gods, and neither of them can understand how the Rakudaime still insisted on using it for the second phase of the examination. Children shouldn’t be left alone in a place like this, and the past has already taught them a good reason why. It’s impossible to prevent what could happen this year, and making sure all the participants get out of there alive cannot be guaranteed at all.

The forest itself is an unpredictable enemy that cannot be forgotten by the participants, and had they taken that in consideration when they first crossed those gates, their first experience on the Chūnin Shiken might have been a little less traumatic than it was.

Had they taken that in consideration years ago, neither of the Uchihas would be apprehensive now, as they infiltrate the deepest parts of that deadly place, following the terrified screams and blood trails in search of the contestants.

The exams have began.

But unlike last time, neither Sasuke nor Sakura are participating. The Uchiha couple, like some of the former rookie 9, is here to simply observe and make sure the forest doesn’t take anymore victims than the ones already taken in the past.

Keep reading

First Time ~H.G.~

Summary: you and Hayes are both virgins.

Requested: yes

Writer: Tristyn

Note: sorry it took so long I’ve been so busy. But I have a free week so I’ll have more time to write

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I wake up in just my underwear and one of Hayes’s tees. I look around my room and notice Hayes is gone. I began to worry. See last night me and Hayes had sex for the first time. Me and Hayes were both virgins. We’ve been dating for close to a year so we figured that we trusted eachother and we were fully invested in one another.

I pick up my phone and see I have a text from Hayes.

Zans Dad 💘😍: hey baby, I went to help move everything into our new house with Nash and the Jacks. I love you and I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need anything. ❤️

I smile and sat up. I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and a pain shoots through my core. I stand up but fall straight to floor.

“Damn it” I whisper to myself. I use the bed to pull me up and I call Hayes.

H: hey y/n, what’s up?

M: first off, good morning baby. I missed you. Second, fuck you. I can’t walk because my legs are sore so thanks for that.

H: ha awe baby I’m sorry. I didn’t think I was that good. When I move these boxes to the new place I’ll come grab you okay?

M: no it’s fine. I’ll just drive there cause I’m hungry and I don’t know what I want.

H: alright. I’ll see you in a minute. Sorry bout your legs baby. Love you.

M: love you too asshole.

I hang up and go get dressed. I put on leggings and Hayes’s jackets over my favorite Calvin Klein sports bra. I grab the keys and head out.

I stop at subway and grab something for the boys too.

I get to the new house and look around. The boys must be in the back. The house came mostly furnished so there wasn’t too much to do.

I saw the boys by the pool out back and I set all the food down. The sliding glass door was open and I heard the boys joking.

“Nah man. She’s so hot and for a virgin she was amazing. I mean I don’t know a lot but it was amazing.” I hear Hayes say.

“Please stop TALKING. I don’t wanna hear about my baby brother having sex.” Nash says jumping into the pool.

The jacks laugh but keep talking to Hayes about me. I’ve had enough about reliving the night. I grab the food and Zan and Cub see me. They get excited and bark and run for me.

The boys whip there head around and see me. Hayes smiles widely and pulls me in his lap. We eat our food and I notice no ones talking. We’re all in a comfortable silence.

“Oh no, by all means. Continue your discussion on how bomb my pussy is. It’s fascinating and I’d love to hear the rest of your thoughts” I say joking and taking a sip of my drink. Everyone’s head snaps up and their eyes widen.

“Babe I-”

“Hayes, I don’t care, it’s okay. You think I didn’t call y/f/n and tell her all about your dick game? Cause I did.”

“Damn y/n you’re really chill. I need me a freak like that” Johnson says laughing and continuing to eat his food.

Nash is still mortified and G just watches with a grin.

Hayes is speechless so I roll my eyes and kiss him to close his mouth.

“I love you y/n.”

“I love you too. And you guys are WELCOME FOR THE FOOD” I say giggling. They all run up and hug me yelling thank you.

so i was just casually thinking about michonne’s reaction to rick’s apparent death for the millionth time, you know as one does, and while i think i understand why people thought her reaction was out of character i can’t say i agree. tbh, i think it’s the exact opposite: it’s the natural culmination of all the character progression she’s gone through over the last few seasons.

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Flood my Mornings: Album
  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment: Protocol (Jamie and Claire enjoy a last night out on their honeymoon )

Album

I jolted awake and looked wildly for the alarm clock, heart racing. 12:43 AM. I’d agreed to do morning shifts for my first week back at the hospital, but even so, I didn’t need to be up for hours, yet. So, why…?

Jamie. The absence of him next to me on the pillow. 

Several nights on the Cape, I had awoken to find him in the throes of some terror, or gone from the bed and clinging to the window frame, letting the cold air brace him. He’d barely spoken, in those times, either stayed away from me entirely, or letting me soothe him back into sleep. It was like Paris all over again, and thought of that made my heart seize. We hadn’t yet spoken of Culloden…but I knew that there were terrors from that day, and horrors that followed, from which Jamie was far from free.

A quick search of the house, though, revealed him sitting comfortably on the living room sofa. I instantly breathed a sigh of relief: he looked a bit pale and was staring off into space, but looked serene and peaceful…unmistakably happy…and in a very familiar way.

He raised a can of beer to me in salute. “Care to join me?”

I crossed to him eagerly. “In sitting, yes. I’ll pass on the drink, since I’ve got to be up for work in a few hours.”

“Suit yourself.” He shifted his legs to make room for me. Perhaps hoping to prevent future “bum Da” incidents, he was wearing the nightshirt I’d bought for him. In terms of construction and coverage, it wasn’t much different from the long shirts in which he’d habitually slept in the eighteenth century,  but I had to suppress a giggle at sight of it. Just give him a sleeping cap and a scowl and he’d make the world’s most seductive Ebenezer Scrooge.

Suppressing the urge to reflect further on the absurd scenarios such a thought conjured, I kissed his cheek and said, “Trouble sleeping, love?”

“Indeed, though I dinna ken how, for I’m bone-weary. Achy and pealy-wally from the drive home, I suppose. Hoped a draught might help settle me.”

Home,” I murmured as I snuggled against him, feeling a thrill run through me at the word. “I like the sound of that.”

“As do I, my Sassenach.” 

His voice was warm, still sweet with his smile, though I didn’t think the prospect of living under the same roof was what he’d been thinking of when I’d walked in. “Were you thinking about Bree, just then, by any chance?”

He gave a small ha! of impressed surprise. “Either you’ve picked up a knack for divining thoughts, ma dame blanche, or I’ve lost mine for inscrutability!”

“The latter, I think,” I said feeling the happy glow of him spreading to my own body. “At least where Bree is concerned, anyway. You get this look about you when you think about her…or hold her…or look at her.”

That very look spread once again across his features: the sweetest smile of contented joy.

“Couldna help it even if I tried,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Though I never would. Just the fact that she exists–yours, and mine, a new person God created from our love…” He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s the simplest fact there is, that bairns typically result from coupling, but the miracle and gift of it hits me deep…and I still sometimes canna believe I have you both to care for…to love.” He set down his drink and pulled me closer with both arms, kissing my forehead. “I’m a verra blessed man, indeed.”

We’re blessed. All of us.” I kissed him softly on the neck. “That’s what you were thinking about, then?”

“Aye. That and…well, specifically, I was thinking of what Brianna must have been like when she was first born. I’ll wager she was a bonnie one, aye?”  

“She was, indeed,” I said. “Bonnie and loud and perfect.”

“Tell me about her?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” I said, rubbing his arm. “Would you like to see, as well?”

See?”  His eyebrows drew together for a moment, then raised in excitement, comprehension dawning. “You have PhotoGraphs?”

In answer, I leaned forward and plucked up the photo album from its niche under the coffee table. Jamie sat on the edge of the sofa, his greed apparent. I perched beside him and opened the book to lay across both our laps.

The first page held four pictures, all taken unbeknownst to me by a kindly, perceptive nurse. The winter sun was streaming through a window onto my face. I was in a white hospital gown, my hair unbelievably messy in a cloud around my head, but I was oblivious, beaming down at a swaddled bundle in my arms: my daughter, who I was holding for the first time.

I’d gotten to see her immediately after the cesarean, I explained to Jamie, but only for the barest moment, with scarcely enough time to kiss her forehead before she was whisked off to the intensive care unit. Her lungs were not functioning as they should. Her skin held a blue tinge, made even more alarming in appearance by the pasty vernix that still coated her face. With tufts of copper hair and her ears…those precious, wing-like ears, she was so like Faith, so small…and so still…I began screaming as soon as they took her away. They had to put me under full anesthesia to close the incision.

I awoke from medicated nightmares, alone in a bleak hospital room…with no child to be seen. I’d not screamed further, too weak for the task, but I had shaken and sobbed until my bones were sapped of all energy, my soul of any desire to move or speak. The doctors were kind and soothing, telling me that everything would be fine, but giving me no concrete, medical news of Brianna to reassure me. I hadn’t had anyone there with me at the hospital. Father Gentry had come by a day or two later, and would have come sooner if asked, but on the first night of Brianna’s life, I had been completely and truly alone in the world. In that darkness, I’d mourned for Brianna. For Faith. For Jamie. And I’d made contingency plans for how to end my life.

But then, I’d woken to a gentle shaking and a warm, red, squirming bundle being placed in my arms.

I couldn’t have said how long I held her. Laughing. Weeping. Kissing her. Nourishing her with my body. Making promises to her. Talking to her about Jamie. Talking to Jamie about her.

The real, breathing Jamie pulled me closer to him. “You were all alone, mo ghraidh.” He leaned his head against mine, voice thick with weeping. “It… truly breaks my heart….that I wasna there for ye either time. I’m so verra sorry for–” His voice broke.

“You couldn’t help it either time,” I said, though my voice was tight with pain. I reached a hand up to draw him in for a kiss. 

The notion that had been growing in my heart this last week stirred once more. Was this the wrong time to voice it? Or…

“If someday there should…be a third time…?”

The transformations that came over his face were breathtaking, a coup of utter joy, immediately followed by terror. “But you said yourself that both of ye could have died. Surely you canna put yourself at risk again.” When I didn’t immediately respond, he shook his head, hard. “No. I willna lose you, Claire.”

It would be dangerous to conceive again, the doctors had said. At the time, I’d assured them the point was entirely moot. Now… “You won’t lose me, Jamie,” I said, with far more certainty than I felt. “I want another child with you. Not at once, perhaps, but…” 

I trailed off, unable to express how strongly I felt this need– to bear a child of ours in happiness and peace. I could live without it, in the same way that I could live without….without ever going to medical school…but in just the same way, I wanted it. And it mattered.

Jamie could see something of this in my face. He was quiet for a moment, then took my hand and squeezed. “When the next bairn comes, then,” he said, and though there was still a quiver of fear in the sound, he was smiling, “whenever it comes, I’ll no’ leave your side. Not for a moment.”

I knew any hospital would do their best to dissuade him, to keep the father away from the operating room or delivery suite. I’d bloody like to see them try.

He bent his head and kissed me, very gently, cradling my head in his hands. He broke the kiss with a small laugh, beaming. “Another bairn…when my heart is already full to bursting… Jesus, will this embarrassment of riches never stop?”  

“No,” I said, beaming back. “At least, I certainly hope not.”

Jamie turned the page of the album. “Oh, just look at her, then,” he said, lightly touching the paper that showed Bree, two or three weeks old, yawning hugely on my lap. “So tiny… and such a bonny, sweet face.”  

Every photo, captioned only with a date, captured a moment in Brianna’s life.

(December, 1948). At six weeks, on her christening day, gawping skeptically up at Father Gentry.

(February, 1949). At three months, sleeping peacefully in her crib, curled up against her stuffed rabbit.

(September, 1949). At ten months, taking wobbly steps toward the camera.

(November 23, 1949). Covered with the icing of her first birthday cake.

(March, 1950). On my lap, the both of us careening down a hill on a sled toward Mrs. Byrd.

(June, 1950). Snuggled against my shoulder, half-asleep, one fist grasping my hair as I stroked hers.

Without warning, Jamie stood up and walked out of the room. I didn’t have to ask what he was doing.

Less than a minute later, he returned, holding a pajamaed Bree against his shoulder. She was still waking up, and was grumbling vague, fretful interrogatories, her curls a frenzied pouf around her face.

Whisht,” Jamie shushed softly against her hair. “Go back to sleep, lass. Whisht, now.”

Hab-beffist?” she asked croakily, rubbing her eyes.

“Nay, it’s no’ yet time to have breakfast, a chuisle,” Jamie said, his own voice rather hoarse as he sat, Bree on his belly, facing him. He tightened his arms under her, smiling, but blinking hard. “Da just…needed to hold his wee bairn, s’all.”

Beebair?” she said, straightening and looking intently back at him.

“Aye, that’s right,” he said, as he kissed her tenderly and lightly cupped her face, “you, sweet one, are my own wee bairn.”

A look of glee suddenly stole over her sleepy features. She screwed up her brows fiercely, waved both hands, and growled out a tiny, “rrrrroahhhh!”

“Oh–OH MY–” I laughed, “there’s a scary, ‘wee BEAR’ in here, Jamie!”

Jamie shook with laughter too, but played along, rearing back in mock fear, “Stay ye BACK, foul beastie!”

Bree, triumphant, gave another roar which turned seamlessly into a mighty yawn, her would-be paws coming up to rub her eyes again.

Jamie stilled and brought his arms around her, voice low and soft with love. “Come lay your head, now, sleepy cub.” He turned to lay on his back. She resisted for a moment, trying to push up with her hands, but Jamie’s soft Gaelic and gentle touch brought her at last to settle against his chest. Jamie held out a hand to me, and while the sofa was scarcely wide enough, I curled against him, holding them both.

When I woke a few hours later, the dawn light as good as any alarm clock, I had a screaming spasm in my neck and my back was sore. But Jamie and Bree were still sleeping peacefully, she tucked protectively between him and the back cushions, her round cheek smushed against his shoulder. Jamie felt unusually warm to the touch, but I still pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and tucked it around them. Turning to head for the shower, I paused at sight of the album on the coffee table.

I went to the hallway where my beach bag still sat, and rifled in it until I drew out the camera. The shutter made a satisfying flackk as I captured the scene.

(July, 1950).


Keep reading with the next chapter

A word about teens and the “Luna Situation”

After some brief investigation, I found out Luna and Louis did, in fact, quietly break up while I wasn’t looking. Im not sure if it was before the wedding or after (perhaps even during?) but either way they are done. They still have some friendship but their romance bar is gone so… 

RIP Louna You were a good ship while you lasted </3

ANYWAYS

There is no college or even defined school years in the sims, but I’d like to think Louis, Luna, Piper, and Lionel are all at the tail end of their senior year. Louis and Piper are set to age up in a mere WEEK, so the timeline fits. That being said, I headcannon Luna as slightly older, so I already aged her up and sent her out on her young adult way!

…im gunna cry she was like my adopted child :’(

Her story isn’t over yet, and I have plans for her in the canon storyline, but we’ll get to that after fox and butterfly age up as well. For now, all I can say is she has moved to the city and seems to be very happy where she is:

As for Louis and Piper… 

Well, they get one last summer together before I plan to brutally rip them apart :^)