spray nozzles

April Fool's headcanons
  •  Sayu and Light always compete every year to see who will be crowned the prank king/queen
  • Light is a surprisingly avid prankster, but his pranks are always carefully thought out and have waay too many steps who tf makes a spread sheet for April Fool’s??
  • Sayu just likes to see how many times she can get Light to smash his face into the saran wrap she taped in all of the doorways
  • Sachiko won every once in a while with a sneak attack
  • Soichiro just tried to stay out of the shenanigans but he usually failed
  • (He’s very susceptible to the tape-the-spray-nozzle-down-on-the-kitchen-sink prank)

Keep reading

Gajevy Week: Prompt: Trouble Twins Colorful Revenge


Rated: T

Prompt: Trouble Twins


Colorful Revenge

Gajeel gets revenge on Metalicana in the best of ways.

Gajeel was in the kitchen with Levy, sighing as he buried his face in her neck. Their four-year-old twins were a rambunctious set that left both adults exhausted at times.

“How long did they keep you up last night?” Levy asked lightly, leaning back into her husband after filling two coffee mugs.

“A lil’ while. Shutora was having nightmares.” He grumbled.

Levy had never seen Gajeel jump out of bed so fast. Their daughter’s cry and sob of “Daddy!” Had him tripping over himself to rush out of the bed. Levy wasn’t far behind. When the man cradled the girl, he quietly waved his wife off to go back to bed as he was soon taking care of the twins, calming them both down, since Yajeh woke up to his sister’s cries.

Turns out while they had Natsu and Lucy watching the twins so they could make some repairs around the house before the kids came back, Natsu decided to tell the story of a monster.

He was gonna kill Natsu if Lucy hadn’t already. Likely Nashi, Natsu and Lucy’s daughter, would have nightmares from it as well.

“Think Metalicana will be able to handle them?” Levy asked, looking at her daughter who was chasing her brother. The little girl was so much like her father it was frightening sometimes.

“Nah. Probably not. But, eh.” He shrugged before smirking slightly. Maybe he could use that against his old man.

The male eventually sighed, grabbing his cup to take a long drink before catching his wife’s lips. “Then we get some time away from the kids…”

Keep reading

riahchan  asked:

For the prompt... Someone is getting a haircut.

[open for Jon/Sansa prompts]

She’d spritzed his hair with water until it was soaking wet and nearly black, but it was still curling enough to trip her up.

“Stop that,” Sansa admonished, pulling a lock straight between her fingers. It wasn’t quite perfect.

“I can’t help it,” Jon protested.

“Well, tell it to stop!” She could hardly measure accurately if his hair was determined not to lay straight.

“It just does what it wants. My input is negligible.”

Sansa used up the last of her spray bottle, pumping the nozzle until the bottle went dry and drops of water were trickling down his scalp and the back of his neck. As quick as she could, she began pulling locks of his hair straight out from his head and snipping at the ends.

“If it’s not perfect …” she said in a warning tone.

Jon sighed. “I won’t blame you.”

“Well, I appreciate that. But I’d rather you do well at your interview tomorrow no matter what your hair looks like.”

That was why he was here in the first place, sitting on the floor of her apartment and submitting himself to her shears. Jon was in his final year of law school and had an interview with a major environmental NGO the next day. It’s a good opportunity, he’d told her neutrally enough, but behind his eyes she’d seen the truth: I love this job. I want it. I need it. A nice haircut, she’d suggested, as his current locks were getting rather long and, dare she say it, straggly.

“It’s done,” she announced finally, running her hand through his hair again and making him sigh–though in a different tenor, this time.

“Thanks, Sansa,” he said quietly, reaching up to test the length of his hair himself with a tug.

“No problem.”

Sansa watched a droplet trail down the back of his neck, over the knob of his spine, disappearing into the collar of his KLU sweatshirt. Her fingertips scratched lightly over his scalp, down, down, down, following that tempting trail …

He sucked in a breath. “Sansa …”

She pulled back. “No?” She wasn’t sure if she could take it if the answer was no.

Jon turned around, bracing his palms on his knees. He felt awkward, she could tell, but he would say what he thought he had to all the same. He was uncomfortably honest. She respected that, and dreaded it.

“I can’t afford any distractions right now. Not with the interview coming up.”

She swallowed. She didn’t want to be a distraction, didn’t want to be unhelpful. She wanted to be the opposite of that. But somehow she found the courage to press the toes of one foot into his thigh and look into his eyes and say, “Tomorrow, then. Come by after, straight away, whether it goes well or badly. Either way, I want to hear all about it.”

“All right.” Despite the casualness of the words, there was a promise behind them, and Sansa meant to meet it.


omg love you writing, your so awesome! could you do one about that love potion in hbp thatd be awesomer

*squishes your face* thank youuuuuuuuu!


Small explosions were nothing out of the ordinary at the Weasley home, especially when Fred and George were around. When they had still been at The Burrow full-time, Mrs. Weasley had found herself irritated with the noise until she had just learned to block it out. But now that the twins were back to visit, she was glad to hear the pops and bangs of invention. She’d missed her sons, truth be told, and they could all use a laugh now that the truth was out.

George opened the door a crack when he heard squealing from downstairs. “Wassat?” he murmured, looking up and down the stairs. Shrugging, he closed the door again. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Ginny had probably tripped over something.

“See anything?” Fred asked, looking up from a cauldron he was stirring. A golden glow lit his face from the depths of the cauldron, sending faint glittering light around the room that was already glowing different colors.

Keep reading

Gf's housemate from hell didn't know she was messing with the devil.

Gather around, it’s going to be a long post. It’s also getting things off my chest finally.

Okay, so this story sets in India. My gf at that time was in University and living in a house with around 6 other housemates. She was fine with all of them except 1. We’ll call her FB. Fb was the type of housemate that made sure that my gf’s life there was miserable. She’d do something almost every day to upset my gf. Sometimes it’d be little things like stealing her food, borrowing her shit without permission and not returning it etc. Other times, she purposely chipped off parts from her coffee mug that I got her as a gift, slashed her bike tyres, wouldn’t let her and other housemates in at 1am when they was returning from a party and left them stranded outside..etc. you get the picture.

The house they were living in was for ‘girls’ only. Guys were allowed but then asked to leave after 12am where sometimes 'random’ security checks happen. I say 'random’ because they hadn’t had a security check in the 1.5 years she had lived there. Fb’s boyfriend lived with her for a week with no consequences either. So it’s no surprise that when I came for a 2 week stay over to the house (from another country because we were long distance), the landlady got a tipoff on the first day and a security check happened where I got kicked out. With nowhere to go at 1am and a kind of remote region, my gf decided to sneak me back in to stay the night and leave in the morning for a hotel. When I climbed up the staircase to go upstairs to her room, she saw me. We locked ourselves in the room , but then there were cops after 30 mins that showed up because fb claimed that I “raped” her and “touched her”. Wtf. I didn’t even acknowledge her. So the cops interviewed us for an hour and her parents were called (they live in a different state) explaining what she had done and a big deal was made. She had also been told she would be denied a stay for the next semester (current semester ending in a month). I was let go due to the false accusation (everyone at home said it didnt happen) but still out in the streets at 4am, sitting on the bench, with the nothing to do but plot my revenge.

So it begins.

Keep reading

First-Aid {Luke Hemmings Smut}

RATING: Smutty smut smut
WORD COUNT: 8,500+
REQUESTED: Nope (I’ve just got dirty thoughts)

I hope you like this! Requests are open, don’t be shy ❤️


You were sat on the couch watching Netflix in a baggy grey t-shirt and a very short pair of shorts. As your chosen movie played on the screen, your hand buried itself into the bowl of popcorn next to you, grabbing a handful and leading it to your mouth. Your parents were out for the evening–something about monthly date night.

On cue, your phone vibrated with a text, and you grabbed it, shifting on the couch. You unlocked it and giggled at the cute and loving message your boyfriend had sent you, quickly typing one back. He hadn’t been able to spend time with you tonight; apparently there’d been some family thing going on. Setting your phone onto the couch beside you, you waited.

Your phone buzzed again, and you eagerly reached for it, your face falling somewhat when you saw that it hadn’t been your boyfriend who’d texted you, but rather your friend Luke. Then you felt bad–Luke was a nice guy, and it wasn’t fair to take him for granted.

“Can I come over?” The message read. You quickly typed back an affirmative and waited for the all-too-familiar ring of the doorbell–Luke only lived a few houses down the street.

You spent a few more minutes in front of the television, soaking up your movie, before you finally heard the frantic ringing, and you sighed. Two rings, followed by one, signalled that it was Luke. It had been a type of code you’d both devised at a younger age.

You opened the door, tightening your ponytail simultaneously. “Hey–,” you began, and then your jaw slackened, eyes widening at the boy standing in front of you.

Luke’s hair was a dishevelled mess atop his head. There were a few scrapes on his left cheek, his left eye blossoming into a dark purple. The area underneath his nose was a faint pink, as though there had been blood previously running down the skin, which you assumed was true.

“Lucas, what the fuck?” You practically shrieked, horrified at the sight. Luke just shook his head, pushing past you and kicking off his shoes, bolting upstairs as though he hadn’t heard you.

“Do you have disinfectant? I’m all out at home,” he called. You stood there for a moment before realizing that he was running up the stairs. Scrambling up after him, you responded, “Yeah, but Luke–!”

“Thanks,” he said loudly. He ran into your washroom, rifling through the cupboards. You joined him, catching your breath in the doorway as you watched him search.

“Luke,” you gasped, “What the hell happened to you?”

He didn’t respond. You were about to repeat your question before he finally spoke up. “Nothing.”

“Yeah,” you said sarcastically, placing your hands on your hips. You gripped the hem of your shirt that went to mid-thigh, concealing the black shorts you wore. Luke was still searching through your cupboards messily, knocking over a few soaps and a can of hairspray.

You glanced at his face in the mirror, your heart aching at the sight of his black eye. Determined to weasel an answer out of him you stepped forward, reaching up to touch his broad shoulder, “Luke…”

He ignored you. You chewed on your lip. He finally found the disinfectant and a bag of cotton swabs. His hands were shaking you noticed, and you murmured out, “What happened?”

“Goddammit, I said nothing!” He snapped, slamming the bottle and the bag down onto the marble counter.

His head hung, refusing to look at you. You swallowed heavily–this had never happened before. Luke was quiet, always avoiding conflict, sometimes to the point where you had to stand up for him, whether it be at school or somewhere else. This situation was uncharted territory for the both of you, and neither of you were handling it well.

The bathroom was silent, the only thing being heard was Luke’s heavy breathing. You pursed your lips, not daring to say anything and risk a huge fight with your friend. You couldn’t stand the thought of upsetting him, knowing that he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve having his face beaten to a pulp and he didn’t deserve having you pester him with questions when he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. So you pushed your curiosity to the side, temporarily forgotten, though you knew it’d be back.

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping closer to Luke and rubbing his arm soothingly, repeating another, “Okay.”

You grabbed the disinfectant and the cotton swabs, moving them out of the way. Luke stepped back as you preoccupied yourself, watching you warily, his low gaze burning into you. Sighing lightly, you hefted yourself onto the counter, turning so that you sat facing Luke. Spreading your legs, you reached for him, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him closer to you, “Come here.”

Luke eyed you cautiously but eventually gave up his guards, taking up residency between your legs. Gingerly, he placed his large hands on your bare thighs, looking at you almost as though he was asking for permission. You pretended not to notice, not wanting to make things awkward, and he decided to leave them there, your skin burning at the contact. A buzz of nerves suddenly settled in your stomach, though you had no idea why.

You fumbled with the spray nozzle on the bottle, finally get past the child’s lock and opening it. Grabbing Luke’s chin in your hand, you brought his face a bit closer to yours. His breath hitched, and you pulled back quickly, “Sorry, does it hurt?”

“N-No,” he stammered, and you cocked your head to the side. He just shook his head, telling you to forget about it. You turned his head to the right delicately, granting you access to the scrapes on his left cheek. Bringing the bottle up to his face, you spritzed some of the contents.

“Shit,” Luke gasped as he felt the burn begin to settle in. You sighed, “Great, I think it may be infected.”

“Isn’t that–shit,” he muttered as you tended to another cut on his cheek, “–isn’t that what disinfectant is for?”

You couldn’t help but to giggle, even though the situation most definitely did not call for it. Luke smiled, though it looked pained. Shifting on the counter, you moved forward a bit and leaned your face closer to his, your breath washing onto his face in warm waves.

“Sorry if my breath smells bad,” you apologized, “I was eating popcorn. Not exactly ‘minty fresh’.”

Luke chuckled lightly, and you squeezed his shoulder, “Stop laughing, you’re moving around.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, unable to contain a small smirk. You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes at him playfully, “That includes talking, mister.”

So Luke shut up as you continued your work. You grabbed a cotton swab and dabbed at the skin around his cuts and scrapes, soaking up any excess disinfectant that wasn’t needed. You leaned closer to his face, your brows furrowing and lips pursing as you concentrated on not touching any injuries with your tiny cotton instrument.

“Ow,” Luke mumbled, and you chewed on your bottom lip, “Sorry.” He just shrugged, and you finally decided that you had done as much as you could for the cuts. You set the disinfectant down and tossed the cotton swab into the trash beside the counter, twisting your body to the side to turn on the faucet and run warm water over your hands.

“What the fuck did you do?” You breathed, letting the tap run. You brought your now soaked hands up to Luke’s face, grabbing hold on the sides delicately and wiping your thumbs along the small area above his upper lip, cleaning away the pinkish shadow of dried blood.

Luke’s crystal eyes watched you intently, his fingers twitching on your thighs every so often. Dipping your hands under the running stream of water again, you inspected your work, deciding to try and scrub off a bit more. You angled your body towards Luke’s as you finally managed to wash off the last of the colour, Luke’s skin a bit pink from the irritation.

You shut the tap, sitting back and scrutinizing his black eye. Slowly, your right hand came up to his face, running along the bruised skin lightly. Luke let out a small groan and you froze, lightening the pressure of your fingertips so that they merely brushed the skin. Luke closed his eyes.

“What could you have possibly done to deserve this?” You questioned absentmindedly.

Luke let a faint chuckle escape him and you studied his smile. It was a nice smile, exposing all of his teeth, the whiter spot on his left front tooth a cute detail. His eyes were bright despite his condition, his hair all over the place. You stared at his lip ring before he cleared his throat, and you quickly cast your eyes down, a faint blush colouring your cheeks.

Once upon a time, you’d had a crush on Luke, a few pretty little feelings that resulted in butterflies in your stomach and a constant smile on your face whenever you were around him. You were just so in love with everything he did, and how he did it. But then your relationship with your boyfriend blossomed, and those feelings had disappeared into a dark, cobwebbed corner of your mind, never to resurface.

The both of you stood there in silence, the quietness bringing a sort of comfort that you knew you’d never experience with anyone else. It wasn’t awkward or fragmented, the air around you filled with ease. Your fingers were still tracing Luke’s skin, his eyes still closed. He surprised you by leaning his face into your palm.

And then your curiosity came back, breaking free from the cage in which you’d trapped it. “Luke,” you whispered to him, afraid to bring the topic back up, yet determined to understand, “What happened?”

“Y/N,” Luke warned you lowly, his eyes opening. You could quickly feel tension fill the room, and a part of you wanted to smack yourself for bringing it back up; but you just had to know, you had to protect your friend.

“Please,” you begged quietly, looking at him and trying to put on your most desperate face, “You look horrible. Who did this to you?”

“It’s not important,” he retaliated, a bit of snappiness evident in his tone. You knew you were treading on thin ice. Even though Luke avoided conflict, he had a short temper, though he didn’t necessarily show it. But you could feel him shifting uneasily, could feel him pulling away from you, keeping things from you.

“Well I say it is,” you fought back, crossing your arms. Luke swore under his breath, removing his palms from your thighs and stepping away from you, raking his hand through his hair anxiously. You watched him, waiting for him to cave in and tell you what you so desperately wanted to know.

But that moment never came.

You both stood there in silence, and you debated opening your mouth again, even though you knew that this situation would only end badly if you did. But your persistence overpowered you, and you crossed you arms, staring at Luke pointedly, “Luke.”

“For fuck’s sake!” He yelled, looking away and tugging on his hair harshly. He glared at you, “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” You fired back, uncrossing your arms and pushing yourself off of the counter. You looked up at Luke, who towered over you, both of you rapidly growing tired of one another. Balling your fists at your sides, you enlightened him, “My problem is that you’re being an ass! I’m only asking, so why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business!” Luke shouted at you, and you recoiled a bit at the venom in his tone. He was breathing heavily, looking down at you with lit eyes. You swallowed, lifting your chin up in an attempt to appear more confident even though you were a bit intimidated.

“Fuck Y/N!” Luke snapped loudly, “Why can’t you just let this one slide? Why do you have this need to know everything? You’re such a nosy little bitch!”

There was silence.

You were looking up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted as though you couldn’t believe he’d actually said that. He was panting from his short outburst, but as soon as the last word emerged from his mouth, a realization dawned in his eyes; you could see it in the way they grew.

Your throat constricted, making it hard for you to swallow. Looking away, you focussed your attention on the shower curtain to your right, your eyes glossing over. You weren’t going to let Luke see you like that.

“Okay,” you said hollowly, somewhat proud that your voice didn’t quiver. You nodded, speaking to the ground in a whisper. “Luke. I think you should leave.”

He didn’t say anything, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. You inhaled shakily, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of keeping tears in, but it backfired on you, granting a way for a sole drop to leak down your right cheek.

Luke shuffled in front of you. “Fine,” he quipped out stonily. He dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and thrusting it into your hands, “Here. You know my passcode. Go to my photos.”

You took the phone from him, opening it and unlocking it slowly. Clicking on his gallery, your breath hitched at the very first–and most recent–photo to pop up onto the screen.

There stood your boyfriend, dressed in the attire he’d worn today at school. He was standing in an alley, the dim lighting illuminating his face enough to make out his features. Although it was hard to, seeing as his face was pressed against someone else’s, their lips locked together. Your jaw dropped.

“You’re lying,” you said immediately, the denial kicking in. You stared up at Luke, the tears now freely flowing down your cheeks. Luke was looking at you with an unreadable expression, not showing any emotion.

You looked back down at the cellphone, hoping that it was just a trick of the light and that this person wasn’t actually the boy you’d been dating for the past six months. But no, he wore the same clothes, the same hair colour, the same side profile.

And your heart plummeted to the floor.


Two weeks had passed, and you were feeling exhausted and drained.

It wasn’t because you’d done any physical exercise or worked your muscles to the point of soreness. It was more of a mental state, not feeling up for anything, not battling any challenges that life threw at you. Even getting up out of bed in the morning was a chore, as well as taking that one step onto the bus that brought you to school.

You’d confronted your boyfriend, who’d openly admitted to cheating on you–at least he had the decency to be honest about it. The first few days had hurt like a bitch–it felt as though someone was twisting a blade into your chest, making it hard to breathe–and you’d gone through at least one box of tissues per day.

But then, on the sixth day, something happened. It was as though you’d suddenly stopped caring, as though your tears had run out. And you realized that even though you’d had some good times with your boyfriend, if he had you out of his mind long enough to be kissing another girl–well, he wasn’t worth your tears.

And that left you in this state–emotionless and monotone. You just weren’t up for anything anymore, preferring to return back home right after school, to stay curled up in bed for the rest of the evening. You had no idea why. You were at ease now with the fact that you’d been cheated on, you’d made peace with it.

So why were you still so indifferent? Why did you find it so hard to fake a smile at school and pretend as though everything was okay?

The answer came to you on a Friday evening as you lay in bed, staring up at your ceiling. Your father was watching a baseball game downstairs, your mother cooking spaghetti. Your eyes widened as you felt your stomach churn with a feeling of nausea, like something had been forgotten, unfinished.



“What are you doing here?” Luke blurted as soon as he opened the door. You were panting from having rushed down the stairs, out your house, and down the street, determined to get answers and make amends.

“Did he do that?” You didn’t acknowledge his question, rather pointing to the left side of his face. His black eye had faded and there was no more swelling; the only evidence of the previous injury was a very light brown bruise underneath his eye.

“Y/N what are you–?”

“Did he do that?” You repeated, glaring at Luke. He looked confused for a moment before realizing exactly what you were talking about, and his body stiffened. He didn’t say anything and you only took his silence as confirmation.

“Look,” Luke craned his head, “My parents are home. Let’s–lets go to the park, yeah?”

Still breathing unevenly, you nodded. It was dark out, so you both knew the park would be deserted. Luke stepped out of the house, yelling, “Mum, I’m going to the park!”

You heard Liz’s muffled reply, and Luke closed the door.

“Come on,” you said curtly, and you whipped around, taking off in the direction of the park. Luke shouted something behind you, probably asking why the hell you were so fidgety, but you needed a distraction, you needed that last moment of freedom before you confronted Luke.

You inhaled deeply as you ran, trying to keep your emotions at bay. Anger was bubbling up inside you, anger towards your boyfriend, towards Luke, towards yourself. You couldn’t believe how stupid you’d been, how you hadn’t put the pieces together sooner. If Luke had captured a picture of–the incident–and had arrived at your house bloody and bruised, of course they had to have been linked.

But the fact that you’d been cheated on had taken up your entire mind, and you’d forgotten about the fact that Luke had been practically attacked. You felt horrible–what kind of friend were you if you could push aside the problems of others for your own?

You reached the park, out of breath. It was a quaint little place, a few swings and a single, twisting slide. There were monkey bars, and you remembered all the times where you’d teased Luke because he hadn’t been able to climb across them like you had.

The park was on a hill, and behind it was a grassy slope that curved downwards, shielding a huge field from view. You’d never been here at night, but now that you’d seen it, you preferred it. There were no noisy children, no distractions, just peace and quiet.

You ran right past the park, loping down the slope of the hill behind it, and stopping halfway down, waiting for Luke. The valley in front of you was hidden from view, a perfect place for you and Luke to have your discussion.

“Y/N!” You heard Luke call.

“Down here!” You yelled back.

He skidded to a stop at the top of the hill and slowly made his way down, not wanting to trip. You waited until he reached you before continuing down the other half of the hill, walking into the valley at the bottom. Luke followed you.

The slightly overgrown grass tickled your ankles as you stopped abruptly, turning to face the blonde boy with your hands on your hips. “Luke,” you stated, “Did he do that to you?”

Luke didn’t say anything, looking down at the ground and giving a sole nod. He was acting guilty, though he had nothing to be ashamed about. You balled your fists, hating that what you’d assumed had been confirmed. You were seething.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” You screamed at him. His face snapped up, eyes widening at the sudden change of your tone.

You continued, “I could’ve yelled at him for it, but you didn’t tell me! Fuck, I’m so stupid for not realizing before, goddammit!”

“You’re not stupid,” Luke said lowly, looking at you with hooded eyes.

You ran your hands through your hair, tugging at the roots in frustration, completely disregarding his words, “Fuck, I’m an idiot! Why didn’t I see this before, why didn’t you say something? Stupid, stupid, stu–!”

Luke suddenly had his hands on both sides of your face, forcing your gaze up to meet his. He was so much taller than you, his blue eyes almost glaring at you, daring you to say another word. Your hands lashed out, grabbing his elbows to steady yourself.

“You’re not stupid,” Luke repeated, gritting his teeth, as though he wanted to sear the message into your brain. Left speechless at how close you were, and how fucking good he smelled, you could only look up at him with parted lips and nod slowly.

“Okay?” Luke questioned you, still not believing. You cleared your throat and whispered out, “Okay.”

He nodded, and your felt his hands loosening on the sides of your face, felt him tensing up and preparing to step back. And before you could even register what you were doing, you leaned up, pecking his lips softly.

Immediately you both pulled back in shock, and you felt your face heat up with a crimson blush. Luke was looking at you with wide eyes and a slackened jaw, meanwhile you were horrified with yourself. You’d ruined everything.

“Shit,” you breathed, your hands flying to your face as you took a step back, immediately distancing yourself from Luke. You looked at him with huge eyes, “I’m–I’m so sorry.”

“No!” He said loudly, awkwardly, and his hand shot up to his jaw, where he scratched the small shadow of stubble forming, “I mean, it wasn’t–like–bad…”

“Right,” you agreed, hoping that if you agreed with him it would make things less uncomfortable. Desperate for something to do, you really studied Luke for the first time that night.

He wore black skinny jeans and a navy sweater with ‘Blink-182’ adorning the front in a large, bolded yellow. His hair was pushed off of his face and curved in a wavelike form. Black Converse were on his feet, which were now twisting and squirming around awkwardly. You raked your fingers through your hair as you stared up at his face, at his black piercing and his electric eyes.

You were both still stumbling over your words, trying to lessen the tension but only making it worse. In between your frantic fragments, you heard Luke’s voice, “I mean–it was nice–it wasn’t bad at all, it just…”

“Okay wait,” you held up your hands and he immediately stopped talking, cutting himself off. You looked up at him, knowing that your face must’ve been pink with embarrassment, and he was chewing on his lip ring, not appearing any more relaxed than you.

“Should we–should we try that again?” You breathed, your gaze meeting his. He pursed his lips, trying to appear collected, but you could see through the façade he was putting up.

“Well, if–if you want to,” he stuttered.

There was a moment of silence between you, breath held between gnawed lips, before you finally sighed loudly, beckoning him closer with your hand, “Okay, okay, come here.”

Despite the awkward atmosphere, he chuckled at your hastiness and stepped forward. You met him halfway, chests barely brushing as you looked down at each other. “Okay,” you muttered to yourself, placing your left hand on the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours, feeling your stomach twist with anxiety and excitement, both emotions battling.

When his lips were only an inch from yours, you froze, holding your breath, “Are we really going to do this?” You whispered.

Luke looked at you with a smirk, his body quivering with a silent laugh, “I guess so.”

You nodded, your shoulders subconsciously relaxing, and you began to prepare yourself for what was coming. But before you could, Luke’s lips were on yours, swallowing the gasp that travelled up your throat and past your mouth.

His lips were slightly chapped, providing you with a warmth that was unfamiliar. You were both still at first before he decided to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you tightly to him; your other hand flew up to his shoulder to steady yourself as you were tugged forward.

His mouth began to move against yours, slightly sloppy, but in an endearing sort of way. You couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness and emotion he seemed to be conveying.

“This is nice, right?” You tore your lips away, somewhat reluctantly, to ask. Luke paused, pursing his lips and savouring the ghostly taste of your lips on his. After a moment, he nodded, smiling warmly at you, “Yeah.”

You wound your arms around his neck and pulled him down into the soft grass, both of you tumbling slightly and letting soft laughs escape your lips. “What are we doing?” Luke questioned.

You smiled gently at his appearance, the slightly mussed hair and the twinkling blue eyes, the way he chewed on his lip ring nervously and how he was looking at you cautiously, his hand still resting on your waist as though he didn’t want to break you. You pursed your lips, only knowing that you enjoyed the feel of his mouth on yours, and you wanted to feel it again.

“I don’t know,” you admitted before scrambling up, the long grass tickling you. Luke crossed his long legs as you swung one of your own legs over his lap, straddling him. His eyes practically bugged out of his head when you looped your arms around his neck, leaning back in to peck his lips softly.

You continued to kiss, his hands gripping your hips, your fingers running through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp lightly. His hair felt like silk, a blonde sea that you could lose yourself in forever without trying. His lips were soft and warm, slightly puffy from the previous kisses. You parted your lips, slipping your tongue out and licking Luke’s bottom lip. He opened his mouth without hesitation, and suddenly your tongues were dancing together, gliding along each other. You wanted nothing more than to explore his mouth, explore his entire body.

“Luke I–,” you began, and he pulled back, somewhat reluctantly, and looked at you with tender eyes. Your words suddenly left you, your mouth open, but nothing coming out. Luke noticed.

“Yeah?” He prompted, his eyes half-closed from the bliss of kissing you. You were still speechless, but not wanting to appear completely helpless, you clenched your jaw, pulling back slightly and crossing your arms over your torso.

You grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off swiftly, hoping you wouldn’t scare the blonde boy away with your advance. You wore a light blue bra and subconsciously, your shoulders hunched, moderately insecure with your body. You looked up through your eyelashes, only to find Luke staring at you with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Are we going to–I mean, do you want–?” He stuttered over his words and you smiled at your lap, nodding somewhat sheepishly. Luke exhaled, “Okay, good.”

His hands left your waist, sweeping up the sides of your body, completely in awe of your body. Your shorts were suddenly feeling much shorter, a cool breeze wafting against your bare skin. You leaned back into Luke, pressing another kiss to his lips before moving to his jawline. His hands were everywhere, on your sides, drawing imaginary tattoos on your back–swirls and circles that you wouldn’t have been able to replicate even if you tried–fingertips dancing along the column of your spine.

“Take off your shirt,” you breathed hotly against his jaw, and you felt him gulp. His slight stubble pricked at your skin lightly, but you merely smiled, enjoying the sensation. His fingers continued to roam your back, acting as though he hadn’t heard you, yet the way he’d tensed up suddenly was an indication of his acknowledgement.

“Luke,” you prodded, your hands snaking up to his chest and resting on his broad frame lightly.

He held his breath as your fingers crept down his body and hooked under the fabric of his hoodie, your other hand reaching for the zipper and tugging it downwards slowly, revealing to you a plain white V-neck. You looked into Luke’s eyes sultrily as you pushed his sweater from his shoulders, your palms lingering on his chest a little bit longer than necessary.

“May I?” You murmured, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

He nodded quickly, and you let your hands slip under, running along the softness of his stomach and further up to his firm chest, feeling his body stiffen, the material of his shirt riding up with your hands. You looked into his blue eyes, lust-crazed and hooded, and your bottom lip was brought between your teeth in an attempt to look sexy.

And before you knew it, a low growl had ripped from his throat and his shirt had been yanked up over his head messily. He mounted to his knees quickly and pushed you backwards, reversing your positions. Your back was now against the swishing grass, chest heaving in surprise, whilst he climbed onto you, knees pressed to the ground near your hips.

“Goddammit, I like you so fucking much,” he swore, his lips sealing to yours before you had a chance to respond. This kiss was no longer sensitive and soft, but rather urgent, as though he never wanted to separate from you. You ran your hands along the wide expanse of his shoulders, heat beginning to pool subtly between your legs.

His hands were pressed flat beside your head, supporting himself in an effort to not crush you. You pulled apart, gasping for air, and he took it as an opportunity to move to your neck, kissing along the skin, biting, licking, all much rougher than you’d anticipated.

But you enjoyed it. It made you feel a sense of triumph, how your heart was racing, how alert your eyes were, after days of being emotionless.

“Fuck,” you whimpered pathetically, your eyes closing. Your fingers ran up the wide expanse of his back, nails scraping lightly, before they disappeared into his hair, grabbing fistfuls in an attempt to contain the wild adrenaline streaming through you. Luke’s lips moved lower, to your collarbones, where he spent several long moments kissing them and nipping at the skin lightly.

“Luke, shit,” you tugged on his hair, and he retracted his head reluctantly, looking at you.

Your words abandoned you again as you perceived his messy light locks and his lidded eyes, and you squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve yourself. Clenching your jaw, you arched your body, your hands disappearing from his hair and snaking around to your back, fumbling with the clasp of your bra clumsily.

Luke stared at you, his hungry eyes flickering from your own to your chest repeatedly, as though he couldn’t decide which feature he was most intrigued by. Finally, your bra came undone and loosened, and you quickly shrugged the material off.

“Do something,” you ordered, too breathless to sound stern.

Luke looked down at your breasts as you tossed your bra to the side gently, close enough so that you’d be able to retrieve it later. Still training his gaze on your chest, he slowly lowered his own torso down little by little. His eyes closed, head falling back and a loud, pained groan escaping his lips as his pectorals brushed your erect nipples.

“Fuck, I’m in love, I swear,” he gasped, and you giggled quietly at how he suddenly revealed how inexperienced he actually was.

His craned neck was only a centimetre away from your face, and you grabbed his shoulders, pulling yourself up slightly to suckle at the soft skin, his Adam’s apple too inviting to resist. He let out another groan when you sucked on what you presumed to be his sweet spot, based on the way his body tensed above you.

“Luke,” you prodded, making him look down at you. You placed your right hand on the nape of his neck and guided him down for a passionate kiss, pulling back after a few seconds and blurting what was on your mind: “Are we going to have sex?”

Luke laughed suddenly, and if you were honest, it was a bit startling. It was one of his genuine laughs, where he threw his head back and exposed every tooth in a wide grin, where his voice got louder and louder until it cracked, squeaking as it hit a high octave. You couldn’t help but to smile as well, but bashfully, feeling your face warm up.

“If you want to,” Luke finally calmed down, staring at you–your question seemed to have snapped him out of his lust-crazed manner, and he was the same old Luke now. He brushed some hair off of your forehead, prompting a shiver to roll down your spine. “We don’t have to go all the way.”

“I want to,” you said quickly. He grinned at you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you chewed on your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Luke nodded, “Cool. Then, can I–?”

He cut himself off, looking at you for permission, an expression to which you nodded, lifting your body from the ground in an attempt to push your breasts towards him. He laughed softly at your eagerness, and you mumbled a sheepish yet playful, “Shut up.”

Luke lifted himself so that he sat on his knees, his groin near yours, and you could feel the material of his jeans straining, causing you to bite back a smug smirk. His hands vanished from beside your head, rather sweeping up your sides now, as though he was hesitant to touch your chest.

Finally, he let his fingers wander, running over the mounds of flesh and tugging your nipples between his thumb and forefinger gently, causing you to inhale sharply and buck your hips up to his. He froze, and you did too, your eyes widening in horror, but his held a certain delight to them, like a child on Christmas morning.

“So responsive,” he murmured, lowering his head. Before you knew it, your left nipple was taken past his lips and a gasp had forced its way out of your mouth. Your fingers immediately twined into his hair for the hundredth time as you squirmed slightly, the wet feeling foreign yet welcome.

“Are you a virgin?” You blurted out, and he pulled back, a slight pinkish hue clouding his cheeks. He shrugged, “Yeah.”

“How–how are you so good at that?” You wondered, your chest heaving, nipple wet with his saliva. His left hand reached up to grab your right breast, kneading it softly in his palm, as though he couldn’t bear to go without touching you for even a second. Your body unfolded for the gesture, muscles clenching subtly, trying to control yourself but with barely any success.

“To be honest,” Luke’s cheeks grew even redder, “I got this all from porn.”

You giggled, “Dirty boy.”

“Says the one who was begging me to fuck her,” he retorted playfully, and you let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff, slapping his left bicep lightly, “I was not begging! I just asked where this was heading!”

“Mhm,” Luke teased, “Sure.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you giggled, stifling the sound with your hand. Luke’s eyes lit up as he quickly scrambled down your body, hastily playing with the button of your shorts and making you grin. He finally undid them and assisted you in shimmying them down your thighs–you kicked them off unceremoniously, both of you laughing softly.

Luke’s hands inched up your legs, palms running over your shins, knees, thighs. Finally, his fingers hooked into the elastic band of your pink cotton panties, and you suddenly grew embarrassed. You would’ve picked out a nicer pair if you knew this was where you would’ve ended up tonight. Your underwear were a solid pastel pink with a small bow resting on the front, and you could feel your arousal practically soaking through the material.

Luke’s gaze caught yours, and he smirked at you, “Cute.”

He bit onto his bottom lip, teeth sucking his black piercing into his mouth. You rolled your eyes in an attempt to conceal your sheepishness.

Luke peppered kisses to the skin of your lower stomach, over the bit of pudge your middle housed, dipping his tongue into your navel and swirling it around. Your toes curled as you felt your pussy tingle from the contact. He dragged his lips down from your belly and over the comfortable material of your panties, his nose brushing against the satin bow and his hot breath washing over your clothed core.

“Luke,” you whined and he let out a raspy chuckle, enjoying the action of teasing you. Your hips lifted involuntarily and he draped an arm over them to keep them pressed down to the ground firmly. Over your underwear, he located your clit after a two attempts, succeeding in pressing a kiss to the sensitive bud.

“Shit,” you swore, warmth pooling in your belly. You were worked up, your muscles clenched and head foggy, so delirious that you hadn’t even noticed Luke beginning to pull your panties off slowly.

“Wait,” you realized, your eyes widening and your head snapping up to look at him. His fingers quickly withdrew, and he looked at you with alarm in his bright blue eyes, “What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?”

“No,” you mumbled, “I just…I haven’t shaved–you know, down there–in a little while.”

Luke processed your words, letting a moment of silence draw out, before his eyes crinkled as he smiled, looking at you as though you’d gone crazy, “So?”

“‘So?’?” You echoed, your fingers playing with the grass beside you, thanks to the nerves that were present.

“'So’,” Luke confirmed, nodding and grinning at you. His left hand rubbed your thigh soothingly, “Who cares? I heard pubic hair is good for you anyways. Apparently it protects the vulva and fights against–”

“Luke!” You cut him off, cringing, and he giggled somewhat self-consciously, his head hanging before he brought his gaze back up to yours. He kissed your clit over your panties again, keeping your eyes locked as he did so, making the action all the more sensual, “I don’t care about it. Okay?”

You let silence hang in the cool air for a few moments before nodding, “Okay.”

Luke shot you the gentlest of smiles before his fingers fastened onto the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs sluggishly. You swallowed a lump in your throat as your dripping core was met with the cool breeze of the winds, goosebumps erupting on your arms–partially from the cold, partially from being completely vulnerable in front of your friend.

Was he even a friend anymore? You had no idea.

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous,” Luke mumbled almost incoherently, his electric eyes trained on your most intimate parts. You shifted uncomfortably under his stares, hoping to snap him out of it. When he paid your squirms no attention, you attempted to close your thighs, whining out his name in a low protest.

“Stop,” he ordered, his fingers tapping the skin of your outer thighs gently. His gaze raked over your entire body, chest puffing in and out as he took in your nakedness, almost believing that he was dreaming–it was only a matter of time before he would wake.

And then he was standing up, fumbling with his belt and cursing at the difficulty of removing the article of clothing. You watched with amused eyes as the strip of leather finally slid from the loops on his jeans, dropping to the ground with a quiet clang. He quickly unzipped his bottoms, wrestling them over the large bulge of his crotch and leaving him in a black pair of Calvin Klein’s.

You watched with wide eyes and a dry throat, studying the bare skin of his body. His legs were long, sparse blonde hair decorating his calves and his thighs, matching the shade of the barely-there trail of hair that travelled from his navel and disappeared under the hem of his briefs. His chest was pale and broad, his jugular jumping as his fingers latched onto his boxers and he quickly tugged them down.

You tried to avoid looking anywhere near his lower half. But it was impossible. Your eyes fell to his cock, skinny but long. It slapped up against his stomach once he’d wrestled it free from the confines of his underwear, the black material dropping to the ground. His shaft was flushed a deep pink at the tip–a perfect replica of the colour of his lips–and was leaking a few drops of precome.

“Luke–,” you began, but once again, you came up with nothing, the words flying from your mind without hesitation.

Luke seemed to take your silence as disappointment, because he looked at you shyly from under his eyelashes, “Is it–I mean, is it enough?”

“I–,” you searched for the right words as you scrambled up to your knees, quickly mounting to your feet. You both stood there, facing each other, only a few feet apart, in the dark atmosphere of the meadow. Crickets chirped from afar, a low howling sound coming from the breeze, and in the distance, you could hear the steady creaking of that one rusty swing on the playground.

“Well,” you let out a chuckle, “You’re definitely–ah–well-endowed.”

Luke laughed when he processed your words, stepping closer to you and grabbing the sides of your face. He brought you in for a kiss, his hands soon moving to tangle in your hair, keeping your lips pressed to his for as long as you both could go without breaking apart for air.

Suddenly he pulled back, his eyes wide, “I don’t have a condom.”

You froze, your lips still slightly puckered from the hasty kisses. You bit your bottom lip, contemplating your options. “I’m clean,” you informed him, “Are you?”

“You’re asking a virgin, Y/N,” Luke let out another one of his genuine laughs, and you giggled along, momentarily forgetting that whatever little experience you had, he had even less. You nodded, looking up at him, “I’m on the pill. I mean, a condom is always good, but if not…you can always pull out?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” he admitted honestly to you, looking slightly embarrassed at the fact that it was quite possible he’d blow at any random time without warning. You shrugged, “I trust you. And if you don’t, it’s completely alright,” then, with a cheeky smile, you added, “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Do you seriously have to ask?” He questioned dryly, trying to bite back a smile but failing, the corners of his lips curving up good-naturedly. You laughed softly at his tone before grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer to you, meshing your bodies together. You both emitted loud gasps when his erect member brushed against your groin, sending shots of warmth down your back.

“Kiss me?” You ventured timidly, and he complied, taking your face in his hands and connecting your lips softly. Your lips were puffy and swollen, but there was a gentleness to the action that seemed to make time slow for a moment.

“We’re actually doing this,” Luke mumbled in wonder, and you smiled against his lips, nodding slightly. Together you both sunk down to the ground, you quickly swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Luke detached your lips so that he could focus on lining himself up with your entrance, missing it the first couple of times and eliciting a cute titter from your lips while he shot you a sheepish grin.

“Ready?” You asked him, your eyes meeting his. Their shade of blue was impeccable–a swirl of blue hues, dark and light, reminding you of a raging ocean and a calm sky all at once. Luke nodded and, grasping his shoulders, you sunk down onto his length.

“Fuck,” he squeaked when he felt your warm pussy envelope him. You couldn’t speak, your lips parted in delight, eyes closed. Under normal circumstances, you may have felt a small pinch after a short period of celibacy, but you were soaked, making the intrusion so much more smoother.

“Wow,” you breathed almost inaudibly, feeling him stretch you in a foreign yet wonderful way. You leaned back slightly, allowing his tip to brush against your spot, sending tingles down your spine as you shivered from the pleasure.

“It–fuck Y/N–it feels amazing,” Luke whispered fiercely to you, his hands finding the small of your back and pulling you back against him, your nipples grazing his chest. Finally, you opened your eyes, watching how he fought to compose himself, his face contorting into a mask of pleasure. You smiled tenderly at him, looping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your cheek against his.

“I’m going to move, okay?” You cooed.

“Fuck, please do,” he let out a guttural groan and you smirked. Slowly, you lifted your hips, Luke’s hands finding your waist and aiding you in the task, something for which you were grateful. You continued until only his tip was housed inside of you, inhaling sharply as you slid back down.

“Oh shit,” Luke mumbled, almost to himself.

You could barely breathe, the sensation halting your ability to inhale. All you could do was acknowledge the fact that Luke was inside of you, and it felt better than anything you’d even experienced. His hands swept along your back, kneading your ass in an attempt to keep himself composed, and he was biting on his bottom lip so hard that the skin turned white.

“Luke,” you breathed, “You feel so good.”

“Me?” He choked out, his eyes closed in sheer pleasure, “Please. You’re so warm–and tight–oh, fuck me.”

You complied, giggling slightly as your hips lifted, Luke helping you again. You were prepared to dip back down onto him, prepared to do all the work–it was his first time, after all–when Luke suddenly thrusted up, entering you forcefully. A pornographic moan escaped your lips as your head fell forward onto his shoulder.

“You’re not doing everything,” Luke gritted his teeth, driving up into you forcefully. His thrusts were sloppy, but you felt him graze that special spot inside of you, numbing your body, and you gasped.

“Luke,” you whimpered pathetically, bouncing and rolling your hips against him as he continued to angle himself up, meeting you halfway. You bit down on his broad, milky shoulder in order to keep your moans at bay, squeezing your eyes shut. Luke may’ve been a virgin, but he was doing well for his first time.

“Can we–?” He gasped, “Can we change positions?”

“Sure,” you nodded rapidly, and Luke grabbed onto your back, keeping you pressed against him as he mounted to his knees and reversed your roles. You were lying once again on your back, him on top of you, driving into you with a force. His sweaty hair had fallen into his eyes, and you pushed it away from his face longingly, leaning up and kissing him passionately.

“Fuck Y/N,” he gasped, “So, so good. You feel–like fuckin’ paradise, honey.”

“Luke, I–,” you were cut off by more frantic kisses, and you felt Luke near the edge. Immediately you knew that you wouldn’t reach your peak–he was just too inexperienced–but oddly enough, you didn’t mind. His thrusts grew erratic, as did the flow of his breathing, and steadying himself with his forearms, he kissed you with fervour.

“I’m covered. Come for me,” you whispered, and he groaned loudly, releasing.

There were perks, you supposed, to not being taken over by ecstasy at the same time. You could watch Luke come undone, study every aspect of his face as he conformed to the pleasure wracking through his body.

His perfectly pink lips parted, his eyes closing slightly, eyebrows raising. For a moment, his arms almost gave out, but he kept himself aloft over you. You watched as his nose twitched, feeling hot spurts of his climax fill you, the feeling odd, but not totally unpleasant. It had been the first time you’d experienced sex without a condom–taking extra precautions always.

Luke finally came down from his high, watching you sheepishly. You just smiled up at him as his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink and he muttered to you, “Sorry.”

“For what?” You smirked, pressing a kiss to his nose, “Luke, that was probably the best sex I’ve ever had. And I didn’t even come.”

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes, “You didn’t come?”

“Well, no,” you said a bit awkwardly, “But it was your first time, so–”

But Luke paid you no attention, a sense of determination sparking into his eyes. His left hand pressed against your mouth, cutting off your words, while his right hand snuck down your body, caressing your curves before his thumb found your clit.

You moaned into his hand, your back arching at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. Luke was rubbing your erect nub with a passion and when you stared into his eyes you saw a fire that you knew would only be put out once he got what he wanted–and you had an idea of what it was.

“Luke,” you let out as a strangled gasp once he finally removed his hand from your lips.

He looked at you, figures and circles being rubbed into your clit harshly, making your toes tingle and feeling a knot form in your stomach. Luke leaned down to kiss your lips, moving his head afterwards to suck bruises into your neck, the small bit of pain pushing you towards your peak.

“Come on, honey,” he muttered ferociously against your throat, teeth scraping against your skin almost in an animalistic fashion. Groans and breathy whimpers were pouring from your lips, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

And when Luke took your clit between his forefinger and thumb and pinched, you screamed.

Pleasure washed over you like a tsunami, your climax so forceful that you saw coloured spots behind the black curtain of your eyelids. You felt your body convulse, tensing and unclenching, while your nails dug into Luke’s shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake. Luke cursed, and through your lidded eyes you saw him gazing at you just as you had done to him. Your back arched as you felt something wet rush down your thighs.

Once you came down from you high, blinking haphazardly, Luke was no longer on top of you. Propping yourself onto your elbows tiredly, you looked around, finally noticing him at your feet, kneeling and staring at your wet pussy in fascination.

“Holy shit,” he marvelled, “You squirted.” He looked up at you with wonder in his bright blue eyes, “Y/N, I just made you fucking squirt!”

“Luke,” you whined, closing your thighs, feeling mildly uncomfortable–he was staring at your most intimate parts, which were probably coated in sticky fluids, and it was just gross.

“Sorry love,” he chuckled, climbing back onto you and pressing a kiss to your lips. You hummed against his mouth satisfactorily, smiling against his pinkish and swollen lips. Luke pulled back, gazing at you amorously, and you ran your fingers through his hair, taking in his whole appearance.

His sandy hair was dishevelled, his eyes bright and joyous, and he chewed on his lip ring somewhat nervously, as if he was waiting for you to say something. Your eyes cast over the Cupid’s bow of his lips, the slight upturn of his nose, the light brown bruise under his eye. And then you realized something, staring at your friend while crickets chirped in the distance and wind swished through the grass.

Your feet no longer felt heavy as you both stood. You no longer felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, emotionless thoughts flitting through your brain. Instead, you felt awake, alive for the first time in weeks, willing to smile–a real genuine smile–rather than forcing it for the sake of others.

Luke’s face had almost healed–and so had your heart.


Hope you liked it! Feedback is always nice :)

i’ve been alone in the apartment for a few days and there was this fly i was trying to kill. this morning i was chasing it around, and, well i have a very small apartment, so when i say i was “chasing” it i mean i was making sharp turns trying to get it with cockroach spray. i don’t have any fly spray, but i’m convinced cockroach spray is the same formula, just with a different spray nozzle. fly spray is a light mist, like a cloud the fly gets caught in. cockroach spray is more like a silly string kind of laser so you can hit them from a distance. it’s hard trying to use one for the other. it’s almost like they knew what they were doing down at the lab the day they came up with the stuff.

this fly kept landing on my stove and hovering around my radiator. like it thinks i’m going to spray flammable oil, because that’s pretty much what the poison is, it’s like oil that fucks up their wings and shit, all over my stove top and then light my whole place on fire the next time i try and be fancy and use conventional heating instructions on my can of chef boyardee ravioli. like it takes a lot of nerve to do that to me. to stand right there and try and get me to sabotage my whole life.

anyways i have a fly strip too, which i’ve talked about before because i’m glamorous, and right after i got dressed i came out i saw it on there, trapped. and i felt bad for it because it was still moving around like it had no clue what was going on. i actually felt bad for this fly. so i sprayed it point blank on the strip. will spraying my fly strip with roach poison ruin its effectiveness? i don’t know, but right after i did it i saw another fly. a second fly. that always gets me, when there are two of them, because they fuck and make babies. even if they don’t like each other i bet. just to spite me. two flies who hate each other start a family just to annoy me. i don’t know where it goes on, but knowing two flies are going at it somewhere in my apartment drives me insane. 

i think i’m being ghosted by this school i applied to. i didn’t want to go back to school, but i don’t know what i’m doing. i’m really directionless right now. i’m trying to extend my stay in young adulthood for as long as possible. just in the middle of the ocean jumping from driftwood to driftwood. i applied to this program, a one year degree, and i had to go through all the paces. i had to write a peppy application essay where i had to come across as this guy who’s got a biiig appetite for life and oh opportunities give me a major hard on and i always don’t feel defeated. i couldn’t check a box and then go, “i am not a bad guy, let me pay you to put a semblance of purpose back in my day-to-day. a little hope. put a few more watts in the light at the end of the tunnel there, for me.”

everything was going great, i met all the deadlines, my transcripts were good, here’s what i think screwed or is screwing me. i did a special program in high school that gave me college credits. i got an email from a woman at the school i applied to that said my college credit exemptions from high school weren’t valid unless i had records sent from my high school. i went online to the program’s website to order the documents directly. they asked for a login/password combo i was given in 2009 and of course had tattooed to my forearm for easy reference.

i had to call my high school. i had to pick up my phone, my phone that the technology for didn’t even exist when i was in high school, and i had to call them. it was like calling another dimension. it was like trying to find my way back to oz from kansas without the help of a tornado. the line was all static-y and shit like i was breaking the space-time continuum by even attempting it. i don’t want to even imagine what my high school is like. all the metal picnic tables are all probably new and some weird color. there’s probably some new ugly mural or something, i don’t know.

i had to talk to a man and explain to him that almost eight years ago, before he even started working at the school, there was a woman who had his job whose name has been lost to the annals of time. this woman ran a program that a little boy was in, and that little boy was now a little older boy who needed evidence that it all really even happened. the program was european and the boy had to get codes for an online portal so he could have some server farm in fucking sweden or something send his dusty ass decade old latin scores across the atlantic. somehow this took three weeks and probably lost the boy his spot and the 75 dollars it cost to apply.

you know the funny thing is that when i called the guy and took the 15 minutes to explain who i was he asked me if i needed the documents for grad school. i panicked because i didn’t want to disappoint this stranger over the phone who i’d never meet, so i said yeah dude of course. he then invited me to come speak to the students at my old high school to show them all that they could accomplish by being in the program. i was like, “buddy, i know you think i’m a new york hot shot because i just told you i’m a new york hot shot, but i’m calling you in secret from the back stockroom of my depressing retail job and if i ever came to speak to your students they would lose all hope and quit school altogether and probably bully me because high schoolers in 2016 are fucking intense and scary to me.

anonymous asked:

- make yourself some rosewater for skin care (can post a tutorial if you want) & - wearing some light lotion that smells like temples and gardens the world forgot. Would you post a tutorial for the first one and give suggestions for the scents for the second please? Thank you so much

How to Make Rose Water

There are two ways to make rose water- either by simmering or distilling. I personally use the simmering method, as it’s a bit quicker and easier.


rose petals (fresh or dried)
saucepan with lid
cheesecloth (coffee filters could work, too- just make sure to layer them!)
dark bottle for storage (spray nozzle optional)

How To:

Measure ¼ cup of dried rose petals into your saucepan. Use ½ to ¾ cup if you are using fresh petals.
Add about 1 ½ cups water into the pan.
Cover the pan and bring all that to a boil.
Reduce the temp to the lowest setting that still allows the mix to simmer, but not boil.
Simmer until the color of the rose petals has faded. I’ve heard this may vary based on what kinds of roses you use- when I do it, it takes about 10 minutes.
Leave the lid on and cool completely.
Pour water and petals through the cheesecloth into a dark, clean bottle.
Now store your mix in the refrigerator for several weeks and enjoy!

(credit to wellnessmama.com for the tutorial, as this is where I learned to make it)

As for the scents…I like anything lightly floral, sweet, maybe vanilla and/or honey hints. Moonlight Path by Bath and Body Works reminds me of this, especially when worn with a vanilla lotion.


So I did a thing.

And Slappy wasn’t as mad as I thought she would be. xD

Used a Dirt Devil tattooed canister vacuum and some spray paints, the straps were made with my old leather belt and hot-glued onto the prop itself.

And yes, I can still use it as a cleaning device… it’s just a lot easier to use! :3

I’ll probably add the clip to hold the nozzle and spray paint the handle white another day. It’s raaainiiiing…

thebeatneverleaves  asked:

shipping meme: Ryan/Michael?

falls asleep on the couch:

  • ryan falls asleep in weird places in general, just by nature of his fucked circadian rhythm
  • meaning michael has found ryan asleep in his car, sitting in the shower, standing up once how the actual fuck
  • and often on the couch
  • nine times out of ten michael just lets it happen, because any kind of sleep ryan is getting is good sleep, even if he looks sort of uncomfortable
  • sometimes after a bad job where everybody gets separated, he and ryan end up dozing fitfully on the couch at two in the morning, legs tangled together, cell phones clutched tightly in their hands while they wait for geoff or jack or somebody to get in touch with them

makes friends with the neighbors:

  • for all the rage michael holds in his body, he is weirdly capable of being nice and polite to people when he needs to
  • and in addition to that, michael grew up in jersey in a shitty part of town, where you had to be close with the people in your block or you’d get eaten alive, strength in numbers, etc
  • somehow the neighbors don’t make the connection between the swear-riddled screaming that travels through the thin walls of the apartment complex and the cherub-faced, curly-haired young man who shows up sometimes to fix old lady edith’s oven or returns puddles the pomeranian to the newly weds on the first floor when he gets out (again)
  • ryan doesn’t realize all this is happening until he’s driving home and sees michael walking down the street, verbally berating the tiny, fluffy dog he’s got tucked carefully under one arm

Keep reading

Imagine Domestic Life with Gabriel

Originally posted by lady-nymm

  • Gabriel pulling you onto his lap as you watch a movie together. His arms wrapping around you with his hands interlocking so he knows you won’t go anywhere. Then at certain parts he nuzzles against your neck.
  • When your baking some dessert, he rests his chin on your shoulder watching the the sugar being added. Then he swiftly sticks his finger in the mix and remarks at how good it tastes.

  • Cleaning is a fun experience as you each have your own vacuum and race to get down first. You swerve around the house and soon get the cords tangled up so much that you trip and fall on one another, ending in a steaming make-out session.

  • Gabriel helping you wash the dishes while you dry and he starts squirting water at you. First he pretends it was an accident, but then a huge splash soaks you and you take the kitchen spray nozzle and get revenge. 

  • Going to the pet store and Gabriel picking out a cute little corgi named Biscuit. You go in the play pen to make sure he’d be a good fit and see how his temperament is. As one of the workers rattles off information, Gabriel scoops up the pup, declaring that he’s part of the family now. You tell him that you want to make sure, but then Biscuit goes and licks Gabriel’s face like he agrees. Both of them give you puppy dog eyes and you look at the worker, asking how much Biscuit costs. 

  • Together you go to the grocery store and Gabriel says he wants to take a quick look at something so he goes off by himself. You scan down the list and head off, making quick work of it. Then you head towards the bakery because you need some bread, only to find Gabriel having an argument with some older gentleman about how he can’t take all the doughnuts. You let out a sigh, noticing a full cart next to him with other baked good already piling on top of one another.

  • Going to the dog park with Biscuit proudly walking in front of the two of you with his black bowtie collar on. You let him off the leash, grabbing a ball and throwing it for him to catch. After a few rounds a poodle comes into view and Biscuit struts over to her. You shake your head as Gabriel yells out encouraging words. Soon you’re both sitting at a bench, watching the two lovebirds run around and play with each other.

  • Watching Gabriel clean the car in his white tank top and little red shorts, while you lay back in a lawn chair. It is a hot summer day and his wet cloths cling to his toned body, letting nothing escape your eyes. You let out a whistle as he bends over directly in front of you to clean the driver’s door. At the sound he wiggles his booty a bit, then proceeds to give you a show. 
The Beginning

Words: 6718
Dean x Reader
Warnings: mild language
Requested by boo-bear-bre
A/N: This one took off on me too and got lonnnngg. I hope you guys like it! I had fun writing! Thanks for reading!! & THANKS for the request!

Your name: submit What is this?

”Shhhh…” Dick pressed a long finger up to his mouth before he ran it lightly over your cheek. You were trembling still from head to toe, torn between wanting to turn away from his touch and pure terror at what would happen to you if you did. “Tsk tsk, Y/N. There’s no need to play coy,” he said. He smiled at you and you shuddered at the way it didn’t reach his eyes; they were dead and dark.

”What do you want from me?” You whimpered. You couldn’t control the way you were shaking and it sounded in your voice and your ragged breathing. Dick had suggested that you stand stock-straight in the middle of the room. His tone had been cordial, but something in his eyes made it very evident that it was not a suggestion. It had been an order. Never mind that he had just broken your leg… “Insurance,” he had said after he had snapped it… Insurance that you couldn’t run.

Keep reading

mouthsounds  asked:

micheoff for the ship meme!!

falls asleep on the couch:

  • michael’s still got that “i could sleep on concrete and still wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed” youth, so he crashes on the couch on a pretty regular basis
  • geoff usually forces him to move to the bed because just looking at michael sprawled out with his limbs at weird angles makes geoff’s lower back twinge
  • also geoff will not admit this but it’s not really that easy to cuddle on the couch and geoff is a tactile kind of guy, so, hey, move your ass to the bedroom

makes friends with the neighbors:

  • neither of them, but somehow half the apartment complex knows their names and says hello in the elevator and leaves extra baked goods outside their door and invites them to parties and—
  • “this is really weird,” michael whispers. “i mean, we just robbed a bank like three hours ago.”
  • “i told mrs. larson we’d bring chips to the christmas party,” geoff says levelly. “do you want to deal with her being passive-aggressive for the next three weeks?”
  • "why are you wearing a sweater vest, though”

Keep reading

jeeno2  asked:

For the cluedo prompts: Everlark, in the kitchen, with a turkey baster ;)

Katniss stood at the kitchen sink and looked out the window at the cacophony happening outside. Delly and Thom were hosting their annual Labor Day Party, complete with more grilled meat than anyone could eat, more beer than anyone could drink, and a handful of young children running around and making as much noise as humanly possible. As much as she should be hating this day, Katniss had to admit that she enjoyed getting together with her friends and seeing their families grow.

On the plus side, when the screaming children and oh-so-in-love couples did get to be a bit much, she could always volunteer to do whatever needed to be done inside. In this case, that meant filling up a bucket of water balloons for the water balloon toss. She scanned the yard, trying to decide which little one she’d try to nab for her partner for this year’s contest.

Keep reading


Ah yes I am a

spins wheel

autistic mermaid

spins wheel

ASPD Johnlockovian

spins wheel

otherkin turtle

Living in a world of

spins wheel

racist wombat

spins wheel

conservative fucking

spins wheel

fucking tumbleweed neckbeards

You fucking

spins wheel

ableist spray bottle with-nozzle-set-to-off

spins wheel

homophobic turkey

spins wheel

bastard baster

And you saying you like

spins wheel

cornflake soup


spins wheel



spins wheel

the bastard baster patriarchy 


spins wheel

chicken nuggets