where if i blast it loud enough

Play Toy L.H

Originally posted by partpunkluke

warning: smut ;)

word count: 1900+

summary: the boys are flirting with y/n and complimenting her body and Luke isn’t very happy about it

requested?: yes, hope you like it anon :) it took a little while to think of a way to write this prompt but i’m very happy with how it turned out!

don’t forget - requests are currently closed but they should be opening soon ;)

- Find my Masterlist here -


“looking good y/n” Calum whistled, eyeing me up and down as Luke and I entered the crowded house. I smiled shyly and looked down, muttering a thanks just loud enough over the music so that Calum could hear me. “no problem sweetheart, enjoy the party guys” Calum smiled, patting Luke’s shoulder as he disappeared back into the crowd.

I felt Luke’s grip on my hand tighten but I ignored it and focused on the scene in front of me. A house party, one of Calum’s specialities and this one was no different. Loud music was blasting through the whole house and people where scattered everywhere, drinks in their hands. 

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// In which Antonio Alejandro Bartholomew IV’s relationship grows deeper //

Part 5 of the sugar daddy series (part 1)

*Contains Mature Content*

the dominant antonio we’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived. @helanyisdead bless the fuck up - drea 🌙

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Why you gotta be a Jerk?! - Jay Park Scenario

(Part 1?????)

Warning: Cussing (cause why the hell not?), also I made this a chubby!reader kind of thing. Sorry, it just turned out that way. Now that I’m done writing this, I know my brain just kinda went away with itself. Sorry, I dunno, I was feeling angry and angsty when I wrote this. I’m thinking I’ll either leave it, or go with a part 2.

“Oh, Shithead. You showed up.” You knew the voice before you saw the face and you really wished you could have done something more than your normal comeback.

Jay Park. Just the sound of his name made you want to scream, and not in a fun way. You had been a fan of him since his 2pm days and really admired his dancing, so when you finally got to meet him in real life you were ecstatic. That day was supposed to be the best day of your life; when your hard work and long hours dancing alone in a cheap filthy studio finally paid off and you made it as one of his background dancers. You had tried so hard at the beginning to get on his good side, to impress him, to have him compliment your dancing just once but to no avail.

That was a few months back, now you were really on the verge of completely hating his guts. You had given up on trying to impress him and finally found your place in the crew only to form some weird tom and jerry relationship with the infuriating man. You always wondered why he was so determined to make you angry. You were the only female in the crew he treated like shit and you didn’t even know what you had done for him to treat you the way he did. Maybe he just didn’t like you because you were chubby. You’d been treated that way before but, you just didn’t want to think the person you admired would be that way. At least, that’s not what you wanted to think

“Yeah Fuck-face, where the hell else would I be?” You rolled your eyes as you got your phone out of your bag and plugged it into the studio’s speakers. You blasted the speakers loud enough that it would drown him out so you could start warming up for dancing. You liked coming early to warm up, stretch and freestyle, but since he found out about your early practices before actual rehearsals, he made sure to be there every morning for your daily dose of shit talking.

You started to dance with your eyes closed feeling the music course through you and letting your body move on its own. You had started this habit since he started showing up. First, because you didn’t want to see his face if you messed up and second, because if you saw his face, it would just make you angry and mess you up anyways.

You were about 3 songs in (of course all of them Jay’s songs) when the music was suddenly cut off and Gray’s voice rang through the studio. “Damn girl! Look at that body move!” He looked over to Jay who was looking at you. You weren’t sure though because when you turned to look at him, he diverted his gaze towards the speakers and started walking toward them. He quickly shut off the music and walked out the door dragging Gray along with him.

All the dancers started piling in after the two men left along with other guys from AOMG. You started talking with some of the girls when Cha Cha came over and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “So, did you torture Jay this morning too?”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” you huffed as you walked over to your bag, Cha Cha’s arm still wrapped around your neck. “More like he tortured me, like always.”

“You both should just date and put us all out of our misery,” Loco slyly commented. “It’s so hard us to have to breath the same air that’s filled with all of the tension between the two of you. The chemistry literally permeates the air.”

Both you and Cha Cha looked at him incredulously, you for even the idea of actual chemistry between you and Jay and Cha Cha for Loco’s use of the word permeate. “You’ve got to be kidding me right?” The guys seemed to like setting you up with Jay in their heads, it annoyed you but there was nothing you could really do about it. You were sure that he couldn’t ever see you in that way, you didn’t even know if he saw you as a human or not.

               “Come on there’s gotta be something you like about Jay right?” Cha Cha asked as he tightened his arm around your neck and messed up your hair, at least what was still dry and not sweaty from going all out in your dance practice this morning.

               You switched your gaze from Cha Cha to Loco and thought for a bit, “Well, yeah. There are some things I like I guess.” They both gave you a look like : and? “He worked really hard to get here. He fell but he got back up and made something of himself. His dancing is amazing, so is his singing. His personality and manners… need a lot of work.”

               “What are you talking about?” Jay asked as he walked up behind you and Cha Cha. You quickly slipped out of Cha Cha’s hold, not wanting Jay to get the wrong idea; though you didn’t know why you cared if he got the wrong idea. Gray was walking up behind him rolling his eyes.

               “How Tom and Jerry should get together, what you think Tom?” Cha Cha said as he winked at you. You sighed exasperatingly in reply.

               “Ha, yeah right. Me and her? Please, I’d rather it be anyone other than her,” Jay scoffed and let out a chuckle as he headed toward the computer connected to the speakers but you blurted out what your mind thought before he could make it there.

               “EXCUSE ME? What’s wrong with me?!” You yelled, you really didn’t want to give in but anyone other than her?

               “Your dancing is sub-par and you think you’re hot but you’re not! You’re not sexy, you’re fucking

at-” Jay yelled but then stopped. His eyes got wide and his mouth dropped. So did Cha Cha and Gray just punched his shoulder with a hushed “what’s wrong with you?!”.

               You felt one of the dancers put a hand on your shoulder and you turned around and yelled because of the adrenaline. “What!” You looked past the dancer and saw your face in the mirror. Tears were streaming down your face and you knew they weren’t because of embarrassment or anger. You thought you had gotten used to comments about how you looked, but coming from someone you admired, it hurt a lot worse than all of the others.

               “Wait – I – I didn’t,” Jay began but you brushed past him and grabbed your stuff off the bench. You turned and walked straight up to him angrily, he flinched when you got to him like he thought you were going to hit him. You just waited, took a deep breath, and looked him straight in the eyes.

               “Park Jaebum, go to hell,” you said and right when you got to the door of the practice room you turned around again, “and fuck you,” you said and you slammed the door shut. 

anonymous asked:

Can you do an honest opinion on Mark? :)

Oh sure! I really like the guy so here we go!

Mark Collins is

  • A part from the circumstances with Amy; outside of that he seems like good boyfriend material. Major boyfriend material. He hits off a lot of things on the checklist: sweet, attentive, funny, fun to be around and just some good darn chemistry.
  • Again really sweet, the type of guy you’d want to introduce to your mom. And the type of guy you want by your side when you’re having a bad night. Even when he doesn’t say much his presence alone is enough. 
  • Suffering/suffered from a bad case of friendzone TM  where he wants to be there for the person he’s interested in…without letting them know he’s interested. And I swear if PB  had me waiting in another whole book for him I would’ve lost my mind.
  • Easy-going and funny. His off-beat humor makes me chuckle out loud sometimes and one of the only reasons why I’m barely hanging on to #LoveHacks. His dialogue hits the right amount of funny and adorably dorky.
  • A blast to be around. Whether you’re together together or in a group setting just as friends, he genuinely seems like a fun person to have in your company.
  • A nerd. A huge nerd. And as a fellow nerd this makes me happy! He has a passion for coding and comic books, and probably has a whole bunch of memes on his work laptop and phone (which are attractive qualities in my humble opinion).
  • A necessity if you’re in a bad mood. He’s a good listener. He won’t mind hearing you vent because he sympathizes with your circumstances.
  • Emotional. He has patterns as coping mechanisms for when things are out of sync in his life. He’s on the more prominent scale of emotional vulnerability sometimes, he doesn’t seem to mind expressing himself or how he feels without the fear of seeming “unmasculine”. 
  • Good looking, (i was pretty smitten with his looks) but his personality is what really won me over.

Thanks for the ask anon! 

Send me a character’s name and i’ll tell you my honest opinion of them!

☂ rest stop: off we go | jihope | g | 1,563w
crossposted on ao3 @ flowerstems
for the jihope bingo square: road trip

“Feet off the dash.”

Hoseok’s eyes are still on the road and Jimin’s sure he was extra quiet when he put his feet up. This is the third time Hoseok scolded him within five seconds of him putting his feet up and it is simply unacceptable.

“Focus on the road.”

“I am.” Hoseok tips his head, lips pursed, and gestures to where Jimin’s feet rest comfortably on the dashboard. “Feet.”

Jimin thinks about eating a lime and pinches his face in distaste at Hoseok, shaking his head the way a child would when they don’t get their way, and Hoseok makes a face right back at him, nose scrunched and teeth bared. His eyes are still on the road.

“You have motion sensors?”


They both huff, barely out of time with each other, and Jimin quietly slides his feet off the dashboard. Again.

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anonymous asked:

Scenario where akashi likes a bubbly, messy, and loud kinda girl?

I kinda played with this one.

Akashi x Reader x Bruno Mars

“You don’t have to do that, __. Your presence is more than enough.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I already practiced my routine!”

“Alright, alright, I guess I could pull some strings.”

“REALLY?! Oh my gosh, Sei! I never thought you’d actually agree. YOU’RE THE BEST.”

He chuckles as you rejoice, watching your graceful body twirl around the room, in your makeshift cheerleading uniform.  With dance music blasting at max volume from the speakers, you shamelessly sing along to the tune.


You cartwheeled, dabbed, twerked, and did all sorts of silly things you never thought you could, at least when Akashi’s around.

But today was an exception.


With a water bottle as an improvised microphone and exaggerated facial expressions, you skip towards your boyfriend, not missing a lyric. You grab his much larger hands within yours. 


Shaking and wiggling your arms, you urge him to join you on the carpet dance floor.


I’d rather see you perform, __,” he thinks, as you take away all his exhaustions from the day.


At this point, he’s not even trying to suppress his small laughters either, which sounded like heaven to your ears. He stands up as you drag him to the center of the room after much hesitation. Your mind barely processed what happened next.

“VERSA-” You were cut off by his lips meeting yours.

And let me tell you, Versace was not the only thing that was on the floor that night.

Faith is a real struggle.

I want to address something which is sometimes considered a taboo in Christian circles. Christians struggle with faith! More specifically I struggle with my faith often, in an increasingly bad world it can be hard to see God in the darkness. A few weeks back I was in charge of our Church service, as I was planning the service hoping to be inspired with great ideas that could help capture the imagination of the congregation and bring them closer to God, I was struck with nothing. That’s right absolutely nothing, not an ounce of inspiration and I felt completely flat. I hadn’t stopped believing in God, I wasn’t angry with God, I just wasn’t passionate about God, I felt completely indifferent to God. It’s in those moments that God can sometimes speak the loudest, that’s exactly what he did. My Mum helped me to plan the service, when I had no ideas she had lots, Mum was probably just doing her job as a parent by supporting me but as I reflect I feel as though Mum’s faith was the driving force behind me and the service.

The service went well and things were starting to improve between myself and God although for me it was still a struggle. I then received a text from a very close friend which couldn’t have had more resonance with me.

The first thing my friend sent me was some lyrics from an old hymn called Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing. I normally despise older Hymns due to the fact I don’t think we sing them to their orginal tunes, for example how can a song about the joy of the Lord have such a depressing tune? That might be an issue for another blog, although I might not be a fan of the tunes the lyrics can sometimes be beautiful and in this case relevant.

“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love, Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it, Seal it for thy courts above”    WOW!

The second thing my friend sent me was a post written by another Christian somewhere on the internet. It’s at the end of this blog. It summed up everything that I had been feeling. My relationship with God is back on track but I will always have my struggles. I may not be the most eloquent writer but I hope you find some encouragement in knowing you are not alone in faith struggles. When times like these strike and you don’t feel like reaching for your Bible or praying to God, those are the moments that you absolutely should. Share with people that you are struggling, I can guarentee other people will be too. Don’t let human pride get in the way, I’m as guilty for this as anyone. Remember whether you’re mad at God,singing his praises or completely indifferent to God right now, let him know your feelings even if you just want to rant at him, because he will listen because he cares for you.

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5 verse 7)

Below are the words taken from another blog, these are not my own words:

“There are days or weeks or even months when I read the Bible and there are no grand epiphanies.

There are whole seasons of Sundays when I sing praise and feel nothing.

There are times of prayer where the silence kills me.

There are great Christian books and podcasts that I eat up which don’t budge my spiritual life.

There are too many times when I doubt the very existence of God and the sending of His son. It can all feel like a crazy lie.

I’m probably being too honest- but I’ve found that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

It’s in those times that I ask myself "Am I out of love with God somehow? Am I losing my faith here? How do I get back to where I used to be?”

But I keep reading my Bible. I keep singing on Sundays. I keep praying. I soak in books and sermons. I serve. I enjoy the company of mature Christians. I enjoy the fellowship of the broken.

And you know what? Sometimes the clouds part and God comes through and his love squeezes my heart and I fall to my knees remebering how good He is. Then I read scripture and I can’t stop weeping and I turn on Christian songs in my car full blast and sing loud enough to scare the traffic. I serve with shaking hands and get convicted by those sermons and soak in God’s goodness all over again.

So I’ve learned over time: I wasn’t really out of love with God. I’m just a fragile human being who changes as much as the weather. I was setting a ridiculous standard for myself that can’t be defined by self-pressuring parameters. I was tricked by the enemy into judging my flesh. My faith is based on His grace and not my feelings. And I think I need to relax.“

Imagine Voldemort And Sauron Meeting

Imagine from imaginexhobbit

Note: This took a lot of time to write (even though its really short, I just needed to think of a good plot), but it was so much fun!! It’s a combination of two of my most favourite things (Harry Potter and LOTR), and I was fangirling while writing it (i didn’t even know that was possible) Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :D

Characters: Voldemort, Sauron


Voldemort arrived exactly where he had hoped. His newly formed body gave him enough strength to apparate into barad-dur. Many trusted sources told him about the legendary place. He wouldn’t have risked the journey otherwise. He was about to blast the giant black gates open with his wand, but the gates opened on their own, accompanied by loud grunts from what he guessed were enslaved trolls.

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If You Run

Band Member: Calum

Type: Relationship AU

Description: This fic was inspired by this quote – “Maybe one day, we’ll run into each other on the street. At first we’ll stare at each other, dreaming of the past and pondering what could have been. Then we’ll approach each other. You’ll tell me about your wife and I’ll tell you about my kids. And we’ll pretend we weren’t senselessly, hopelessly, mindlessly, shamelessly in love. We’ll avoid the fact that this awkward small talk is nothing compared to the times we talked of your family and of your struggles, the times that I stared deep into your cold, dark eyes and searched your broken soul. It is nothing compared to when we sat on your roof, my head on your chest, our eyes sparkling with starlight, talking of aliens and the future, of monsters and the past. And we’ll be okay with that, because we would have realized that we would have destroyed each other, because you never waited, and I never stayed.” - tornpagesspilledink

The sun was brighter today, like winter had stopped fighting the awakening of spring. You closed your eyes and listened to nothing – the silence in the house was almost enough to drive you crazy these days. You were used to the loudness of a family: your husband asking where stuff was, your teenage daughter blasting out music like she needed the entire street to listen, your step-daughter singing along to her favourite movies. But all of that, all of your beloved chaos had left your home. It was too empty, almost suffocating without them.

You grabbed your car keys and drove into town to combat the loneliness that the empty nest brought during the day. You picked a coffee shop and found a seat outside, ordering your old boyfriend’s favourites because days like this made you sentimental about the past. You often wondered what would’ve happened if you would have stayed together. Even more so now that your marriage had been wrecked by the restlessness in your soul and the affair your now ex-husband had had. You wanted to say you’d been upset to find out but you’d felt nothing except relief. Your marriage to Nate had been dead in the water for a while, you had both needed a reason to sink it. It sounded better to tell relatives and the other school mums that you’d divorced because Nate had met somebody else rather than you and your resolved feelings for the boy you left in the past at barely twenty years old.

“So you still pretend to like my favourite foods?”

You almost choked on your coffee to hear the voice that usually only visited your mind in memories. Your eyes looked up and you saw him for the first time in years. The last time you’d laid eyes on Calum had been the day you’d walked out of the apartment you shared together. You had sent friends to box up your things and ship them to you since you were already finding a new city to conquer by the following day.

“Calum Hood as I live and breathe,” you sighed as you wrapped your hands around your coffee. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

You had to admit age had been kind to Calum, for thirty-three he looked amazing. He had his bass slung over his shoulder which almost made you laugh. That bass had taken him all over the world which had suited your wanderlust perfectly. How had you gone from being engaged to a touring band member to marrying an accountant within a few years?

“You look amazing,” he said quietly with a smile. “Have you got time…?”                                                        

You were already agreeing, gesturing for him to take the empty seat opposite you. You had no idea what you were going to say to him but you didn’t care, you had wanted this moment to come for such a long time. The waitress bought over a replica of your order and she smiled at you like this was a first date. You spied the wedding ring on Calum’s finger and it felt like a kick to your heart. In some wild alternate reality you had in your head, Calum had waited for you because you were his one that got away too, like he was yours.

“You finally found a girl crazy enough to marry you then,” you said with a ghostly smile.

He looked down at the ring, he was hoping you might have ignored it but he traced his fingertips over the gold band. Calum wanted to tell you that the girl was nothing like you. She wasn’t as adventurous or as creative or anything like you but that’s what allowed him to love her. She wasn’t you and you weren’t her and that’s what made life bearable.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Emma and I have been married almost eight years now. We met just after you and I…”

“I know,” you said reassuringly. “Ashton told me, he kept in touch for a little while but I wanted a fresh start.”

“I wanted to invite you to the wedding but it was hard to pin you down long enough to send an invite,” he joked.

You had to admit you’d been restless. You’d moved from place to place until you finally stopped running and married Nate. You had tried so hard to be happy, you had been happy away from Calum. You’d been so happy when Lydia had been born, when you’d held her in your arms for the first time with tears streaming down your cheeks as you promised to love her as much as two parents would, when her first word had been Mum and you’d called your own mother laughing while Lydia kept shouting it like the entire world needed to hear your name. You’d been happy when Nate made you forget all about who you were. You’d been captivated by Bonnie who was just a baby when you’d met her father and Nate had taken Lydia on like his own. It had been so perfect but you were blinded by your need to be loved by somebody that wasn’t Calum Hood.

“Lyd and I were always hard to keep tabs on back then,” you admitted.

“Lyd?” Calum echoed as he tried to work out how Lyd was.

“Oh, Lydia is my daughter,” you said with a warm smile. “I’d say she’s my baby but she’s almost all grown up. She’s thirteen going on thirty.”

You picked up your phone, hunting for a picture of her which you knew you’d only regret showing him later when the thrill of seeing Calum wore off. You found one of you both together, just taken last week at her birthday. You held it up to Calum, the proud mother smile breaking out when you saw Calum smiling at the girl.

“She looks like Mali when she was a kid,” he realised but he didn’t say anything else.

He knew, of course he knew deep down that Lydia was his but you’d never explicitly told him she was his child. He could hardly ask you now, straight out after all of this time. Your failed attempts of picking up the phone only to put it back down had let Calum live in some blissful ignorance. So you sighed a breath of relief when he didn’t start asking questions, your worst nightmare was that Calum would want to know why you’d kept Lydia a secret when you didn’t have an answer even for yourself.

“She’s beautiful,” he added before looking for an escape from the topic. “Did you ever get married? I know Ash mentioned you’d met somebody.”

You nodded, twisting the engagement ring, the one you wore to work to fend off the questions. It stopped the clients from being overly friendly if they thought you were settled but it wasn’t a secret that you were now a divorcee. But it was more than that, it was the ring Calum had presented to you for the last birthday you spent with him. You often wondered if you should’ve sold it but you told yourself that Lydia might want something that belonged to her father one day and that ring was full of the promises Calum would’ve made to his daughter.

“I was, but we were unhappy for a while. He didn’t want another failed marriage so we clung on to the hope we’d fall in love again but it never happened. It happens to the best of us,” you said with a sad smile. “It’s just been Lydia and me for a while. We’re used to it.”

He winced, he couldn’t help but think that remark was aimed at him somehow. Maybe he should ask if your daughter was – no. He couldn’t bring himself to ask you. If you laughed in his face like it was some huge misunderstanding, even though he knew she was his.

“So you have you and Emma talked about kids?” you asked though you stumbled over Emma’s name. It felt wrong to say her name like you’d screamed fuck in a church.

Calum’s expression shifted as he sat back into the chair. You had known your Calum so well. You wondered if he still bit the inside of his lip when he was concentrating or if he still grinned like an idiot when you complimented him. But if this new Cal was anything like the old one, you’d touched on a sore point.

“Em doesn’t want kids yet,” he sighed but smiled towards the end. “But I’m raising my puppy family like I said I would.”

You laughed as you recalled the nights you’d spent discussing how Calum would have an army of dogs that he’d raise as his children. You had taken time picking names and breeds over bottles of beer until you were sure it was going to happen. You wanted to ask if he’d named one after you like he had often joked he would in the early hours of the morning when you’d drank a little too much.

“I did,” he said like he’d read your mind. “One is running around with your name but I call her Junie like you wanted.”

“I hope Junior is living the dream life,” you toasted as you raised your coffee to your lips.

You wanted to laugh at whatever this was. This was nothing compared to the conversations you had on your roof, your head on his chest as he talked about how the fame was getting into his head. This awkward small talk paled in comparison to how his eyes had shone when he spoke about his future or how he’d stroke your hair when you talked about your struggles. And the nights you stared into his eyes and wanted things to stay like this forever.

“Why did we ever break up?” he asked you.

“You wanted the world at your feet and I wanted to explore again,” you replied though you didn’t honestly know.

Calum ran a hand through his hair then looked at you like he needed more than that. But you both remembered the day you left so well. There hadn’t been any screaming or fighting like the magazines and tabloids had reported. You’d simply talked it over, how you weren’t good for each other and you had walked out without a single thing.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Calum,” you sighed. “I ran away but had no idea who I was running to. Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry? Cal, it’s been almost fourteen years.”

“I know,” Calum said. “I just hate how I think about you and us and how we might’ve worked.”

You shook your head sadly. “Cal, we would have destroyed each other. I am… I was in love with you and it was the purest love I’ve ever felt but it was reckless. It was senseless and you know it was. If we hadn’t have ended there, God, it would have killed us both. You brought out the best and worst in me, Cal. Lydia does the same and she’s got that from—”

“Lydia, is she—” he began but your ringtone cut him off.

You smiled and muttered some kind of apology. You picked it up and saw that it was your daughter so you half turned away from Calum.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Guitar got cancelled,” Lydia sighed down the phone. “Again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, Lyds.”

“We need a new person, Mum. Mr Williams keeps bailing.”

“I know somebody who could show Mr Williams a thing or two on guitar,” you said with a fond smile. “You remember me talking about Calum Hood, right?”

Calum’s heart skipped a beat. So you hadn’t hid his existence from your daughter? This threw him off even more and it made the question burn his throat as he tried to swallow it back down.

“Are you being serious?” she asked you. “Mum, why are you talking to him? I thought you said he was married and he didn’t know about me being his daughter.”

“He is, Lyd, and he doesn’t. I could tell him if you wanted? We could do this.”

“I thought I had to wait until I was sixteen,” your daughter pointed out.

You bit your lip and sighed. “I did say that.”

“Mum, just come pick me up and we can go home and watch Supernatural with tubs of ice cream,” Lydia said quickly.

“You’re a smart kid,” you told her with a smile, even if she couldn’t see it.

“You raised me, Mum, of course I’m smart,” she laughed. “Now come get me please? My guitar is heavy.”

You told her to give you five minutes and ended the call.

“Is everything okay?” Calum asked. “What did she want me to know?”

“She wanted to know if you’d teach her guitar,” you lied. “Don’t worry about it. But I’ve got to go.”

Calum’s smile sank from his lips as he realised he’d been left with more questions than answers. He wanted to ask you to stay, but he knew you wouldn’t. You wanted to ask him to wait but of course, the boy always had something better to do. You’d found the point you’d been searching for your entire life. You knew what would have happened in the end, because with a love like that, you’d have destroyed each other bit by broken bit. But you guessed your biggest flaws became your saving graces since he never waited and you never stayed.

Turbulence 2

Request: Can u do a follow up for turbulence like maybe 6 months later ? Xxx

Author’s Note: I got two requests for this so I really hope you like it c: I didn’t really know where to go with this, so I hope you like what I came up with! c: Enjoy!

Warnings: Major fluff omg

Part 1


My hips were swinging from side to side, the messy bun on top of my head bopping back and forth as I jumped around, music blasting through my speakers. I was lost in the beat, yelling the lyrics and not paying attention. I couldn’t help but let out a small scream when I turned to find my boyfriend standing in the doorway smiling like an idiot, a bag in his hands.

“By all means, please continue,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear. A grin split my face and I went back to jumping around happily. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Derek crossed into the kitchen and set the bag down before heading back to the living room. I ran over to his large frame and grabbed his hands, pulling him with me as I continued to dance. He simply laughed and let me dance around him, twirling my frame occasionally and pulling my body to his.

“Hi,” I said simply, pressed against his chest, head tilted back to look into his gorgeous eyes. He smiled down at me and I leaned up to press a quick peck to his lips before dancing away to turn off the stereo system, leaving us in the quiet aftermath.

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I make enough excuses, or attempts at reason, or whatever they are. They sound fake even to my ears, all of them boiling down to what the truth really was - I didn’t want him to hate me for it.

Eventually he gets up from the bed. “I need to take a walk,” he says quietly, not making eye contact, and after a brief hesitation he goes out and an icy blast of air rushes down the hallway and I hear the front door click shut. I let out a ridiculously loud sob, the type where you just end up gasping for breath while you cry, and I curl up on the bed and bury my face into the blanket. I feel exactly like I did when I lay in my cheap hotel bed the night I left Ian. Is this what it feels like to be alone again?

"A Message to Trump-supporters on Facebook" via DailyKos

Posted without comment.

“If you’ve ever posted anything remotely racist or misogynistic or promoted gun violence or made fun of political correctness or promulgated lies about President Obama or former Secretary of State Clinton, then I blocked your news feed long ago.

I am one of those “elite liberals” that you got back at when you voted for Donald Trump.

Yes, I think that a person who is running for President should be able to clearly explain his or her policies. And should actually have some policies. And know how the government works. And care how the government works.

And have a working knowledge of world geography and foreign policy.

I think that the person who runs the most powerful country on the planet should take that job very fucking seriously.

I think that “supporting our military” should mean that we do not send our brave young men and women to needless and endless wars. Do you realize that we’ve been in Afghanistan for 16 years now? And for what?

I think that our country has an imperialistic foreign policy and that often times we reap what we sow. I think that the architects of the Iraq War (Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Rice) committed war crimes and have the blood of all of our slain and maimed soldiers and innocent civilians on their hands.

I think that Guantanamo Bay is a bloody stain on our national character.

That “People kill people, guns don’t kill people” line is most backassward bullshit that I’ve ever heard. People with guns kill people. And not everyone should have a gun. And certainly not an arsenal. And no I am not naïve enough to think that restrictions on gun access will prevent all violent gun deaths. But for fuck’s sake, can we start somewhere?

I think that words matter. Perhaps you were happier in a world where kids were called “retards” and some boys were called “faggots,” but I would rather live in a civilized and polite world.

Maybe you will blast “Merry Christmas” as loud as you can, but I will keep saying “Happy Holidays,” because that is more inclusive. As in not purposefully leaving anyone out. As in being kind. As in just fucking acknowledging that your reality is not everyone’s reality. And that by acknowledging someone else’s reality, that yours is not in jeopardy. What are you all afraid of anyway? Is a mass of Muslim immigrants going to take your Christmas away?

I’m more afraid of the mass of Christians that are trying to teach kids in Texas that creationism is real.

I think that those of you who put “Blue Lives Matter” signs on your lawn ought to be ashamed of yourselves for thinking for one minute that there is no racism in this country and that young black men being gunned down in the street by police is not a problem.

And for those of you who were worried that life as we knew it was coming to an end when Bernie Sanders suggested universal health care and free college education, look to yourselves first. Guess what? Those state universities that you send your kids to? They are subsidized by taxpayers. Why do you think they are so much cheaper that private colleges? That is SOCIALISM!

Are your parents on Medicare? SOCIALISM!

Do your parents collect Social Security? SOCIALISM!

Do your police officers, firefighters, prison guards have benefits and a pension? SOCIALISM!

Why is it that when it benefits you, it’s not socialism?

I think that everyone, from birth to death, should have access to basic health care.That means I believe in a single payer system. I think that the wealthiest country in the history of the world can afford this.

The Affordable Care Act, the compromise between leaving 20 million people with no care and a single payer plan, is flawed, but it is morally bereft to overturn it. Those members of the House who voted to repeal it so many times should have been spending that time coming up with a better system.

And do any of you understand corporate welfare? Here’s an example: You shop at Walmart because it’s cheap. Walmart is the biggest employer in the country. It does not pay its employees enough for them to live on. So some of them go on welfare. And many of them have to use the Affordable Care Act to get health insurance. Who funds welfare? Taxpayers. Who funds the ACA? Taxpayers.

So Walmart makes a huge profit but doesn’t pay its employees a living wage so taxpayers pay to support them. Still want to buy your goods at Walmart?

And yes, there should be a minimum wage that is livable. How could you be against that?

So yes, I’m an elite liberal. I buy organic foods when I can because I know that pesticides are harmful to the earth and I care about preserving the planet for the next generation. I think that clean water and clean air is worth preserving and that there have to be strong laws to protect them. I recycle. I reuse plastic bags because the thought of all of the plastic trash I’ve personally created in my 55 years on earth makes me sick. I try to use polite and inclusive language because I care about others. I don’t believe in war. I believe we should do everything we can to prevent violence. I believe that health care is a basic human right. And that women’s rights are human rights.

I even listen to NPR.

I thought George Bush was a really horrible president.

But, you really got me this time.

You elected Trump. Look up the DSM-IV criteria for Narcisistic Personality Disorder and you will find that he meets all the criteria. Look up the criteria for ADD as well and you have your man. He does not read about issues because he lacks the attention span. He speaks at a third grade level.

He brags about his crimes against women. He founded the fake Trump University. He has innumerable conflicts of interest. He is so overwhelmed he has to have his kids help him.

His education secretary nominee doesn’t believe in public education. The EPA nominee has sued the EPA before. His VP believes that gays should have conversion therapy. The Labor Secretary nominee is anti-labor. The nominee for Ambassador to Israel has views which are guaranteed to inflame the situation in the Middle East. And who knows who he’ll nominate to the Supreme Court. He is the President Elect of the FUCKING UNITED STATES OF AMERICA but he is watching Saturday Night Live and tweeting about it.


In what way could the pussy-grabbing President elect with untreated ADD and a personality disorder who tells more lies than any politician in modern history possibly make this country better? Yes, hatred and stupidity reign, thanks to you.

Good job. You showed me this time”

AU: Pretending to date you because someone was obnoxiously hitting on you (verse: modern/college)

Up until the age of nine, Bellamy Blake had been nothing but the neighbor’s son, whom she would never talk to, and only see once a year on Halloween when they both were out trick-or-treating; he always went with his sister and was dressed as some sort of historical person that her father would have to tell her about after she had gotten home.

Then, she discovered a secret of his upon having seen him slip a large portion of his candy into his little sister’s basket. Obviously, she had sealed her mouth shut at the begging look in his eyes… From that day on, the two trusted each other above anyone else, and Clarke would be the one to defend him in middle school every time someone made a mean comment regarding Bellamy’s unconditional love for Roman mythology, or even their uncommon friendship - somehow, her calm eyes and voice managed to keep him from exploding.

And he’d been the lone person to support her when some brat had accused her of cheating on a math test. Sure, those gestures might seem like small ones, but nonetheless they were so important in the end, since they were the reason to why Bellamy and Clarke didn’t find it difficult to confide in each other even when it came to much more serious things, like the night following her father’s passing where she’d gone to his house and sobbed while wrapped in his strong arms until she had fallen asleep on the couch. Over the years, she had realized that Bellamy Blake, that little boy dressed as Augustus, had grown up to become her best friend…

They’d always protected one another - therefore, what he did shouldn’t have surprised her - it did anyway…

“Can I buy you a drink?” The guy - she’d already forgotten his name - shouted to drown out the loud volume of the music blasting from the stereo.

Avoiding eye contact, Clarke replied flatly with a simple ‘no’, but she wasn’t making herself clear enough, and he simply kept on going, endlessly throwing cheesy pickup lines. On one hand, she didn’t want to pay any attention to it, yet somewhere within her there was still a little girl, who was already very uncomfortable with the situation - giving into her instincts, she inched away from him, gazing towards the dance floor, searching for Bellamy.

Then, she suddenly felt the stranger touch her! Calloused fingers sliding up the skin of her arm, paired with a nasty smirk that she didn’t need to turn around to know was on his lips. Yet she did not get a chance to pull away from the bar counter and slap him across the face before a familiar voice ripped through the air; harsh and angrier than she’d ever heard it (and that was remarkable): “Get your grabby hands off of my girlfriend!” Bellamy spit out the words like poison as he pushed his way through the crowd of people (some of which had turned around to watch the show), lightning burning within his dark eyes.

During the millisecond it took Clarke to blink, awestruck, he had placed himself in between her and the creep, shielding her with his body: “What the hell is wrong with you?! Why is it that she can’t stand here; have a drink and not be harassed by some drunk scum? Piss off!” Despite the shock, Clarke smiled internally while deciding to play along - if this was how he wanted to get rid of the man, she might as well help make it a little more convincing, which she sure did by taking his warm hand to say, her voice strangely calm: “He’s not worth it, babe,” actually, that was the line she normally used whenever the asshole John Murphy dared to call him ‘Augustus’ in front of everyone - except for the ‘babe’ part of course…

Bellamy breathed out heavily, his muscles no longer tense. Instead, a smile grew upon his lips, complimenting the amused spark that lit up his eyes, “I know,” it was hilarious how easy it was for him to say with an authentic exhausted tone dominating his voice, because he had said the same response at least a thousand over the course of the last fifteen years.

Nonetheless, all of the reenactment aside, he did something that he’d never done before too, when he caught her lips with his own, kissing her passionately. Instantly, she kissed him back as the world seemed to stop spinning to abruptly pick up at a speed that made her feel light-headed. How come she hadn’t noticed it until then? How they fit together perfectly?

“Please tell me that you’re not playing a role,” the words blurted out of her mouth as soon as Bellamy had broken the kiss, his hand still resting on the side of her neck.

“Are you?”

“Bell, I played frog number 4 in our middle school play. I think we both know that I can’t act for shit,”

Player and a bookworm [Part 2] (Calum Hood imagine)

[Part 1]

It was seven o’clock, you were currently curling your hair when you get a text from Cal. “Hey, I’ll be there in a hour, be ready.” You smile, putting down the iron, and slip on the black dress you bought a long time ago, but never had a chance to wear. It fits you just like you remembered, in all the right places.

You hear a knock at the door. Looking at the clock it’s exactly eight o’clock.
Someone’s punctual.
You open the door, to Cal holding out a single black rose. “Hey….you look gorgeous, who would have known.” You giggle like a little school girl.

“This is for you, let’s get going.” You take the rose from his hand and put in the vase you got flowers for yesterday. “Are you planning something?” you ask, trying to understand why he’s acting so strange and nervous, nothing like the typical Calum.

“No, why would you think that?” He asks, as you two walk to he’s car. “Oh I don’t know, the sudden invitation, the flower and so on.”
“Oh, I just thought that I don’t hang out with my best friend enough anymore.” He gives you a cute smile. Damn, what all I’d do to just kiss those lips.
You smile back, “I’m watching you, Hood!”
“I can live with that though,”
he giggles.

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The Roaring 20's: Nash Grier

You were a flapper girl. A gorgeous one that everyone could see but you. Your dad was a gangster. A famous one. The most famous one. Al Capone.
You were (Y/N) Capone. And it was dangerous. You didn’t know who would use you to get to your father or kidnap you to get to him.
Right now, you were at a party that he dragged you to and you had completely lost him. Your dad said he had a deal tonight and he didn’t trust you alone. But turns out, as soon as y’all got to the party he was gone.
You weren’t the type for parties. They made you uncomfortable and claustrophobic.
You tried to move through the dancing bodies while picking up your golden dress at the same time.
It didn’t go to well when you smacked hard into someone’s back.
“Oh goodness darlin’ are you okay?”
The person you hit turned around.
Your breath hitched as you looked into his deep bright blue eyes.
A blonde streak was dyed into his brown hair and it peeked out of his black fedora. His hat was tilted to the side making him look dashing and mysterious.
“Oh gosh. I am so sorry. I just don’t know where to go.”
He smiled and held out his arm.
“I’ll lead ya doll.” He winked making you blush.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Out of here.” You mumbled quietly but loud enough that he heard.
He grabbed your hand walking fast with a warm soft hand gripping yours safely.
When a cool blast of wind was pushed onto your face, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you held in.
“I’m sorry. Those parties sometimes make me anxious.”
The guy that led you out chuckled.
“Me and you both.”
“Then why do you go?”
He hesitated to answer.
“To have something to live for.”
Both of you fell into a silence. You didn’t want to push the matter further so you let it be. But he spoke up with a new topic,
“You know, I never got your name darling.”
You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Please don’t call me doll, or darling, or baby, or any other names I have more decency than that.”
He raised his arms in surrender but grinned.
“You are so different from other girls but, I like that.”
You sighed holding back the smile and spit out,
“My name is (Y/N). What bout you?”
“That is a beautiful name. And my name,” He took off his hat and put it up against his heart bowing. “Is Hamilton, Hamilton Nash Grier. I prefer Nash though.”
He put his fedora back on.
“Well Nash thank you for leading me out of that party.”
“It was a pleasure to do that for a beautiful girl.”
You smiled. He took your gloved hand and brought it up to his lips kissing it gently.
Your heart skipped a beat. But you still felt a little skeptical.
“Are you gonna hurt me?”
Nash was shocked and a flash of hurt crossed his eyes.
“Why would I ever do that to a girl?”
“That’s what I thought.”
He grinned and you followed.
“Oh my. It’s getting late. I have to go but, I really hope I see you again.”
“I will pray to see you again.”
Nash exclaimed courageously. You called for a car and looked back at Nash one more time and mouthed, “Good Bye.”
Nash tipped his hat and put his hands in the pockets of his grey dress pants and smiled at you.
Both of you wishing you could see the other one again.

Part 2: http://hayeslayesbbq.tumblr.com/post/103529811058/the-roaring-20s-nash-grier-part-2
Rise And Shine (Dean x Reader)

For a change of pace, Dean pulls you out of bed to have a fun night together away from researching in the bunker.

WC: 1,739

Warnings: Mild cursing

A/N: Sorry that I haven’t posted in a while, struggling with writer’s block! 

On another note, I apologize if the bunker descriptions aren’t entirely accurate. I tried. I attempted a different writing style this time, so any feedback is greatly appreciated. As always, hope you enjoy! ~ Emery


You love your long distance friends, you love your rifle and you love your tumblr, but if anyone asked you what single thing you couldn’t live without, you would say your full-sized bed. My goodness, you loved to sleep, and you were damn good at it. You travelled more than half of the population chasing things that shouldn’t even be real. When you finally had a few minutes to yourself in the bunker, everyone knew where you would be. “That’s what saturdays are for, right?” You had convinced yourself earlier this morning, glancing at the clock and rolling over.


The sound of heavy boots can be heard in the kitchen. Dean struts into the room with a portable cassette player, headphones around his neck blasting his mix tape loud enough to be mistaken as speakers. He reaches the refrigerator and yanks it open, rattling the various jars of condiments on the door as he grabs a foam box on the top shelf, opening it to reveal the remains of a cold burger from last night. He wolfs it down quickly and tosses the container, then rummages around in the fridge again, when he spots your obligatory “look at me, I’m healthy at a diner” caesar salad, completely untouched by the three of you. He’s instantly reminded of you by the smallest things, and this time he realizes that he hasn’t seen you once today. Not even for one of your later-than-late breakfasts. He fixes his hair in the reflection of the microwave before turning on his heel, casually making his way via the beat of Kickstart My Heart to your room. He pushes the door with his foot and it swings open easily, hitting the makeshift door stopper that is your sneaker. The noise causes you to stir slightly, but you remain face down in your pillow.

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Wrong Number

TITLE: Wrong Number
AUTHOR: nakedchrisevans
GENRE: Romance/humour/smut
FIC SUMMARY: 21 year old Kat, after breaking up with her boyfriend, had gotten very drunk one night. Drunk and out of her mind, she tried calling Aiden, her best friend but had mistakenly called Tom Hiddleston, the famous actor.
RATING: M (T for now)
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: This idea came to me in class so help me, and I couldn’t focus because the plot bunnies were racing and hopping inside my brain. Please let’s hope that I have the commitment to keep going on with this chaptered story. Feedback would be awesome and is the fuel for me to write more chapters.

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#6: First Kiss (Ash/Cal)

Requested: No

Rated: PG


It’s been a few days since Ash admitted that he really liked you. Of course you admitted your feelings for him as well. The two of you were the talk of the university. (”Ash, people are talking about us.” “It’s okay Y/N. Let them talk.”) It’s not that you were embarrassed to be with him, you were honestly flattered that he was actually into you. From the passed relationships he had, they were all the sorority girls or other athletic jocks- they all seemed much prettier than you, but he would always reassure you that you were the most beautiful girl. The two of you were walking back to his apartment after a night out. Both of you were exhausted, watching his teammates downing shot after shot while you laughed the whole time, not wanting to get drunk. You were already a klutz as is, but drunk you was way worse, so you decided to hold off on the drinking for now. Ashton didn’t drink because he also didn’t want to make a fool of himself. 

He opened the door to his two bedroom apartment. His roommate was still out and all you wanted to do was kick off your shoes and watch movies. Ashton was always super cuddly when it was just you two and you loved that about him. (”Could I borrow a pair of sweats?” “Course, princess.”) Ash went to one of the drawers in his wardrobe and grabbed a pair for you and tossed them over. You just mumbled a thanks before slipping your jeans off and putting the black fabric on. Ashton and you walked out to the kitchen to grab some snacks for the movie night that you were going to have. (”What should we watch beautiful?” “Anything you want Irwin. Just nothing terrifying.”) He laughed to himself remembering the first date. You grabbed a bowl for the popcorn and he got two Sprites out of the fridge. After the popcorn popped he put in the bowl and you guys walked into the living room plopping down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around the both of you. Turning on Netflix you scrolled through the different movies till you squealed with glee when you stopped on the Emperors New Groove. (”I freaking love this movie!” “Wanna watch it?” “YES!”) 

Halfway through the movie, the two of you were cuddled on the couch, his arms wrapped around your waist. Your head was laying on his chest and he was rubbing small circles on your exposed hips. You tried not to laugh at the tickling of his fingers, but his breathing was calm and he was humming a tune. Smiling to yourself, you finally looked up at him, (”Why do you like me Ashton?” “I just think you’re amazing Y/N. You make feel some sort of way.”) You didn’t quite understand what he meant, but it made your heart leap. Some part of you wanted to just kiss him or bone him, but the two of you were taking it slow. He was known for his athleticism and his one night stands- which shocked you when he actually admitted to you with his feelings. You could feel yourself sitting up and looking at him. Mesmerized by every feature on his face, his eye color shining from the reflection from the movie. His stupid smirk playing on his lips because he could tell you wanted to kiss him, but he wanted to kiss you as well. His hair was falling on his forehead, sleep deprivation was evident on his features. He leaned in slowly, brushing a hair behind your ear, causing you to blush at the softness of his fingertips. (”Can I kiss you Y/N?”) You didn’t have an answer, but you felt yourself nodding. The both of you leaned in, lips merely centimeters apart. His breath was warm against your lips, as he licked his bottom lip before attaching them to yours.  


The party that he invited you to, was a huge party. It was his best friends birthday. Everyone was there- people were hammered, people were stoned and some were on other drugs. Sadly, for you, you were not one of those people-being drunk wasn’t your favorite thing in the world. You were the worst type of drunk out there, you were clingy, you were loud and obnoxious and worst of all; you were horny. But Cal was the same, however you knew that because you always found about his drunken nights from your roommate who was always at his parties. Standing in the kitchen watching people stumbling in and out, Cal walked in, a grin on his face. He was drunk. (”Babygirl!!! I found you!!” “Cal, you’re drunk.”) You were kind of disappointed but it was Calum, the boy who blasted his music and got drunk on the weekends. You watched as him and the birthday boy, Michael you discovered taking shots after shots. It got to the point where Calum started falling over. You rolled your eyes as you made your way over to him. (”I think you’ve had enough Cal.” “I’m not drunk even.”) You laughed out loud at his drunkenness. You shouted a happy birthday to Michael over the loud music and he just smiled a sloppy grin before taking another shot before disappearing into the crowd. 

The night was just ending, people were passing out, or were already passed out in different rooms. (”I’m soo tired Y/N.” “I know Cal. Let’s get you to sleep.”) You slowly walked Calum up the stairs to his room as he tried not to trip. He was really quiet, quieter than you were used to. (”You’re really quiet Cal. Everything okay?” “I just want to kiss you really badly.” “You’re drunk Cal.”) Getting to his room, you slowly closed the door, turning on the light by his bed. He slowly took off his pants and slipping on a pair of grey sweats and tearing off his shirt. And God, he was handsome. His tattoos nicely displayed across his chest and arms. You couldn’t help but just admire him and to be honest, you wanted to kiss him as well. But he was drunk and it would be wrong. You were afraid he wouldn’t remember it, and that would internally crush you. He slowly crawled into his bed and looked at you. (”C’mere beautiful. Please lay with me.”) You nodded before walking over to his bed, stripping off your pants leaving you in your shirt that barely covered your ass. (”I didn’t mean to get so drunk Y/N.” “It’s okay Cal, it happens.” “I’m embarrassed though. “Don’t be Hood.”) He brought you closer to his body, you instantly cuddled into him, laying your head on his chest, tracing over his tattoos. He giggled to himself telling you that it tickled. You looked up at him smiling and laughing at his sobering up. (”You’re beautiful babygirl, did you know that?”       “Thank you Calum.” “I mean it Y/N.” “Go to sleep Hood. I’ll see you in the morning.”) He kissed the top of your forehead, causing your body to freeze up and get warm. He smiled to himself enjoying the fact that he can do that to you. He then kissed your little nose. Then your cheeks and finally, his lips were hovering over yours. His breath smelled like booze and cigarettes, but honestly, you didn’t care. It was just you and him. You licked your lips and he slowly leaned in. You gulped before you felt his soft plump lips on yours. 

Holy crap that was so long! I love Calum’s but that’s cause I love him so much. I am Cal trash… oops. 

Luke and Michael will be up tomorrow :) Thanks for reading!