Prompt: Can I request a Jimin smut where you like to ride his thigh and he have fetishist for ur boobs because they’re kind of sensitive? Anyway bless this blog
Author: Admin Em
Summary: Each moment spent with Jimin was incredibly precious to both of you. And well those precious moments had some extra special times, times where you and Jimin would be one, panting, groaning sweaty bodies moving in sync….
Tags: Thigh riding, slight babygirl!kink, porn with little plot, etc.
why did you call the 4th house "house of midnight"? it sounds beautiful, but is there an astrological reason for it?
Hello~it is beautiful, yea? Yes there is reason for it
The 1st house is sunrise, the 7th house is sunset The 4th house is midnight, the 10th house is midday
Sunrise is representative of first light, and relates to the ascendant in regard to new beginnings. The time after dawn, birth after the womb (12th). The ascendant is your special and personalized light, it is your outlook and personal action, your will to the world. The self. Planets here need to reconcile with the self.
Midnight is both the beginning and end, the end of one day but the beginning of a new one. This is a magical and safe place, where two realms meet. When you close your eyes you are passing through the subconscious plane from the world’s substance through dreams, ingrained emotions and psychological habit. The entrance of the soul.
Sunset can symbolize a completion of a journey. The lower hemisphere is concerned with developing the personal identity. Now it is time to develop and balance the ego with the ego of others. A new journey, to concern the self in relation to the world. It is getting dark too, the light of the ascendant is casting a shadow here, where you find the hidden light of yourself through others. These parts are always there, they never left, other people simply bring it out of the dark and you in turn do this for others.
Midday, or noon, is the highest point of day matching the midheaven as the most elevated part of the chart. It is illustrative of the elevated version of yourself that you wish to become, how you want the world to perceive you. It is where you reach for the skies and work your way to the heavens (12th) to be reborn (1st).
Mulligan laughed, watching John run right past us. You watched him run by, his eyes meeting yours. He shot you a wink, sliding between you and Lafayette. His body hit yours, almost making you fall on the floor. Lafayette caught you in his arms, your face pressed against his chest.
He moved your hair out of your eyes, looking at you with concern, “Are you okay, mon ami?”
You thanked him, pulling yourself out of his arms, “Ah, yes, yea, I’m okay.”
Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)
Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*
Could you do a Stiles fluff where you go to laser tag and beat everyone?
Author Note: So this is actually from a part of a story I wrote way back when Enzo first got injured on the Payback 2016 PPV. When I got this prompt, it was the perfect reason to finally finally finish this. It’s long and fluffy and I’m not sorry.
Add tag or remove tag, let your girl know! :) I know some of your follow this blog, some don’t, and sometimes Tumblr is good at tags/notifications and sometimes it’s not. So I’m just trying to help y’all out however I can!
You felt like the worst girlfriend in the world as you ran through the back hallways of the arena, attempting to make your way to the car bay.
You’d been in your locker room, finalizing getting ready in your ring gear, when Nattie had come in, asking if you’d been watching the current match. Truth be told, you’d been so busy being in your hometown, visiting with people and making appearances, that you hadn’t remembered to turn on the closed-circuit TV. You were too focused on getting ready for your own title match that night on the PPV.
But all it took was one sentence from Nattie for all of your focus to shift entirely away from anything to do with you.
Plot: After months of doing pot together, Connor takes the reader out on a date for ice-cream.
Characters: Connor Murphy and Y/N L/N
A/N: I’m posting this because I asked @imagine-boyo if I should (over ANON) and he said yes, so yea.
Warnings: Cussing (like, a lot), use of weed by both Connor and the reader, and just horrid grammar/writing all around.
“Connor!” You call out to your date, but he ignores you and continues to walk. “Connor!” You shout again, running to catch up with him. You take a hold of his jacket sleeve and tug.
“What?” He sighs. He doesn’t stop walking but tilts his head to look at you. You look back at his car with a sigh, looping your arm with his so you could keep up.
“You double parked.” You tell him, though you’re positive that he already knew.
“Yeah, I know.” He confirms your suspicions, followed with a light shrug. “We’ll only be here for a few minutes. It doesn’t matter.” He steps up onto the sidewalk and pulls you towards the ice-cream shop doors. When he pulls his arm away from you, you worry that you’ve done something wrong, but calm down when you see that he’s stepped back to hold the door open for you.
“Are you sure?” You ask hesitantly as you enter the shop.
“With the town we live in? I’m positive, (y/n/n).” He says smoothly, placing a hand on the small of your back. The action, in your eyes, was a bit out of character for the Connor Murphy. Everyone at school had warned you about him when you first arrived, but after a few weeks of sitting next to him in Government, you found yourself interested in the isolated teen.
You tried multiple times to speak with him, but he would blow you off, ignore you, or leave as soon as he saw you coming. So, when you slipped a small piece of paper with your name and number on it into his bag you were ecstatic to receive a text from him a few days later. Your friendship was rocky. He would only talk to you through text or small grunts during and outside of class. And his messages usually consisted of one-word replies.
That all changed the day you found him after school, smoking weed by the boy’s locker room. You’d recognized the smell almost immediately, as your house smelled like it half the time.
“Piss off.” He’d said to you, but you had taken the seat beside him on the ground, searching through your bag. He didn’t say anything else and looked about ready to leave by the time you pulled what you were looking for out of your bag.
“I, uh, prefer the… edible kind?” You’d told him, jiggling the bag of pot brownies slightly. He kept his eyes on the bag as you opened it, and broke off a small piece, offering it to him. “My brother helped me make ‘em. Want some?” He looked from the brownie to your face with a hard glare.
“I prefer the smokeable kind.” He’d snapped. You simply shrugged.
“Suit yourself, Murphy.” You’d told him before shoving a full brownie into your mouth.
After that incident, you’d often find Connor by the locker rooms getting high and join him. After your fourth time coming around, you convinced him to try one of your special brownies.
“Only if you take a few hits.” He told you, holding out a freshly rolled joint.
You found yourself enjoying the time you spent with Connor, even though half the time you were both higher than the sky. Then he began talking to you during school when there was not a spot of redness in either of your gazes that wasn’t ‘supposed to be there’ (as your brother had once put it). He was hostile at times when others seemed to get too close for comfort while laughing. You’d always stand there, listening to him rant about all the assholes at school with a calm smile, glad he had finally accepted that you wanted to be his friend. You remember the day he asked you on this ice-cream date. It was actually quite a funny experience. School had just ended, and you were going to meet up with him to get high again. You found him on a small, concrete bench rather with a joint pressed to his lips, unlit. You sat beside him, opening your brownie bag. Before you can get your usual greeting out, Connor removes the joint from his mouth.
“Go on a date with me.” He said bluntly. You sat stiff, wondering if you had heard him correctly.
“What?” You turned to him, placing your half-open bag of edibles into your lap. Connor refused to look your way.
“Go on a date with me.” He said again, this time much quieter. “Or don’t. I don’t fucking care.” He finished defensively.
“If you didn’t fucking care, Connor,” You sighed. “You wouldn’t have repeated yourself.” You smiled at him, and he whipped his head around to face you. He looked about ready to yell, so you swooped forward and pressed a kiss against his warm cheek. “You could have just asked, you shit-head.” You mumble. “I’ll go on a date with you.”
Now here you were, standing in Cold Stones, waiting to get yourself Cotton Candy ice-cream with Connor Freaking Murphy. As the two of you came closer to the front of the line, you began to worry that some jackass might tow Connors car. Not that the car worried you much – his parents could pay to get the car back (and as far as you know, they’d done it before). You were more worried about the weed in Connor’s backpack and the brownies in your own.
“Hey, (y/n/n),” Connor nudges you, snapping you from your thoughts. You look at Connor. “Are you gonna, you know, order?” You scoff, turning to the annoyed Cold-Stones worker.
“Cotton Candy shake, please, with… Marshmallows.” You tell him. He quickly gets to work, and you turn back to Connor who is making a face at you. “What?”
“It’s… blue.” He points out. You glare at him.
“Yours is green, Murphy.” You point out as the other Cold Stones worker passes him his ice-cream cone.
“Yeah, but Mint Chip fucking rocks.” You smack your date in the arm.
“I didn’t say it doesn’t. Watch your mouth, there are kids.” You nod towards the line where a suburban mother was glaring at Connor, her young daughter pressed firmly into her side. Connor rolls his eyes and makes his way towards the register section of the counter. You follow him, and the both of you wait for your shake to be finished. The boy behind the counter swaggers up to the register, setting your cup down roughly onto the counter. You roll your eyes and take the cup before reaching to get your wallet.
“Whoa, whoa,” Connor stops you. “Chill out Y/N/N. This is a date. I’m paying.” The guy behind the cash register sneers at the two of you.
“Not a very original date idea.” He says venomously. You stiffen when you see Connor’s grip on his wallet tighten.
“Not a very original hair style, bowl cut.” You loop your arm with Connor’s again and squeeze his bicep tightly.
“Connor, please.” You whisper to him. “Not here. Let’s have a nice date, okay?” You watch Connor close his eyes, and take in a deep breath.
“We are having a nice date.” He tells you, handing the dick behind the counter a few dollar bills. “Keep the change, and buy yourself a better personality, asshole.” Connor slips his arm away from you, taking your hand in his before rushing out of Cold Stones.
Your brain has barely registered what happened by the time you’re sitting in Connor’s car, buckled up and ready to drive away. Connor sighs in frustration and passes you his cone.
“Hold this.” He grumbles. You two sit in silence as he drives. You go over the previous events in your head once. Then twice. And when you finally realized what happen, you snorted. “What?” Connor snaps, clearly annoyed. You turn to him.
“He did have a bowl cut.” You say, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. “And that was a pretty sic burn you made back there, Murphy.” Connor doesn’t respond immediately but scoffs and rolled his eyes.
“You talk to Kleinman too much.” He tells you.
“You say that as if it was the worst thing in the world.”
“You’re right. You could be talking to my sister.” He says. You raise an eyebrow.
“Was that a… joke?” You inquire, slightly amused. Connor shrugs.
“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” He says, not bothering to use his blinker as he makes a right turn. You cringe at the sound of someone blaring their horn at him, but Connor seems unaffected by it.
“Fucking dork.” You roll your eyes at him and settle into your seat. You make a poor attempt at sucking the thick shake up through the stick-thing straw, groaning in frustration when nothing came up.
“Suck any harder and your face just might burst.” Connor snorts. You turn to glare at him.
“Just remember Murphy, I’m the one holding your ice-cream.” You remind your date, waving the slightly melted cone around teasingly. You swear you saw a pout cross over Connor’s face before he glares at you out of the corner of his eye.
The two of you drove only a few more minutes before arriving at your destination - the abandoned park on the other side of town, away from both of your families. While you love your brother and mom to death, you couldn’t stand the constant arguments between the two. Usually, it was about who took whose weed, although half the time it was you who took it to make your brownies.
Connor, on the other hand, could not stand his family. You’d known this from almost the beginning. You’d only ever spoken to his sister once, and you could tell from that single conversation that she and Connor were nothing alike - and thus, you avoided befriending her in favor of her brother. Not that you’d admit that out loud.
The two of you exited the car, but not before you shoved your bag of brownies into the pocket of your favorite hoodie. You passed Connor his cone, which he immediately began to lap up. You checked your hand to make sure none of it had melted onto your skin.
“C’mon, I know a spot,” Connor said, holding out his free hand. You hesitate before lacing your fingers with his, letting him pull you along past the yellow caution tape. He didn’t seem like a very physically (or emotionally, in all honesty) affectionate person.
“Why is this place closed again?” You inquire, hoping to strike up a conversation. Connor shrugs.
“I dunno. Probably because whoever built it was a lazy ass motherfucker and the first time a kid went down the slide,” he motioned with his ice-cream to the sad, destroyed, red slide that attached to a sadder looking jungle gym. “It broke.”
“I see.” You nod, picking up your pace to keep up with Connor’s long strides. He doesn’t say anything more, so you try again. “Where are we going?”
“You ask a lot of fuckin’ questions, yah know?” Connor states though the laugh that follows tells you he might not mind. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, it’s not too far.” He assures you. You hum softly, tapping your fingers gently against the back of his hand. The two of you walk in silence, entering the heavily wooded area to the left of the park. You open your mouth to make an axe-murder joke but thought better of it seeing as most people called Connor a freak and your joke might make him defensive. After all, you don’t want to mess up the perfect date with a guy you actually liked.
When the two of you stop, Connor lets go of your hand. He motions to a large rock a few feet ahead of you, which had a wooden bench propped against it.
“That’s not horror-movie-esque as all.” You mentally slap yourself for your comment and chuckle nervously. To your surprise, Connor simply shrugs.
“This used to be a hiking trail, but, yah know. No one fucking hikes in this town.”
“You know a lot about this town, huh?” You ask him as the two of you take a seat on the unstable bench. Connor shrugs again.
“I google a lot of shit when I’m high.”
“And you remember everything?” You tease. Your heart flutters a bit as he laughs.
“Fuck no! High me just never closes the fucking tabs.” You snort, pulling the brownies out of your pocket with your free hand. Connor stares at them longingly but shakes his head quickly. “W-wait.” You raise an eyebrow. “Let’s… not get high… right now.” You’re positive your surprise is evident on your face because Connor begins to defend himself. “I-I just want to have a nice date, and I’m not always the nicest person high… I want to remember this tomorrow. All of it.” Your heart pumps rapidly inside your chest as you grin giddily, shoving the brownies back into your pocket.
“Alrighty.” The fact that Connor didn’t want to get high was a first, but his confession was… sweet. You want to remember everything as well.
You were on cloud nine by the time you and Connor got up to leave. He’d been so sweet, listening to everything you had to say - and you did the same in return. He mostly complained about how unhelpful his family was, and how everyone at school didn’t help either. And he told you that, in his opinion, you were helping him by just being there each day after school.
“I’m not really… doing anything.” You told him with a shrug. “I’m just… being your friend.”
“More than any of the other fucknuggets at that school have done.” He’d told you.
Now you two were walking back out of the woods, towards the park and his car. Towards the end of your date. Your heart sunk in your chest - was it really over?
“We should do this again sometime.” You blurt out hoping with all your heart that you didn’t come off as too desperate. He glances back at you, then shrugs again. You’ve noticed that he shrugs often
“If you want.” He says. You speed up a bit to keep pace and smile triumphantly when he takes your hand again(not that you’d admit it out loud, but that was what you were hoping for). “You’re kinda short, you know that?”
“I am not!” You scoff. “I’m average. You’re just a giraffe.” You bump his hip with your own.
“No arguments here.” He laughs. He’d been laughing a lot during your date, an unusual change from his usually defensive demeanor. You thought he looked beautiful happy. But you wouldn’t say that out loud - not yet anyways.
The drive back to your place is pleasantly silent, and music plays quietly from the radio. As Connor turns onto your street, you can’t help but feel disappointed. Your mom was probably home so Connor wouldn’t be allowed to come in. She had a strict ‘no boys in the house’ rule. You were surprised she let your brother in through the front door sometimes.
Connor parks his car a few houses down from your own and unbuckles his seat belt.
“Um- my mom doesn’t like boys in the house.” You tell him. He looks at you, and for a moment you’re afraid you’ve said something wrong.
“I was just gonna walk you to the door.” He says plainly. You can feel your face heat up.
“O-oh, okay.” You rush to get yourself out of the car, slightly embarrassed. Of course, he was just walking you to your door. Why would Connor Murphy want to come inside your home? You stand by the side of his car, watching as he steps out and walks to your side. The two of you walk up your driveway, and you lead him onto the porch. “Well, this is it.” You chuckle nervously. Your eyes widen as he begins to lean down, going into kiss you. You place a single finger on his lips, and his eyes widen. He jerks back, opening his mouth to apologize, but you shake your head. “Rule number seventy-seven of being in high school. Never kiss on the first date.” WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, you chastise yourself. Of course, you wanted to kiss him. You take is face between your hands and place a soft kiss on his forehead. “Arcade? Next Friday?” You watch with amusement as his face turns a light shade of pink. Connor stands up straight and clears his throat.
“I-I’m down. What time?” He stutters.
“After school? Meet me by the locker room?” He nods quickly, clearing his throat again.
“Sounds like a plan.” He confirms. You two stand there, staring at each other. “I’ll, um, see you in school?” He sounds uncertain.
“See you in school, Murphy.” You turn to the door, testing the knob. The door swings open, and you step inside. “I had fun, by the way.” You tell him. Connor smiles at you.
“Me too.” He waves. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You watch intently as Connor turns around. You don’t want him to go just yet. As he reaches the bottom step of the landing, you call out to him. “Wait!” He turns, confused. You rush to the step directly above him and grab his face. Screw it, you think to yourself before pressing your lips to his. You can’t tell if he’s surprised or repulsed, but you pull away before you can find out. “Um… rules are… made to be broken.” You tell him. Before he can respond you’re back inside your house. “Bye, Connor!” You close the door and begin mentally preparing yourself for your next date.
Sorry, Sorry, I got excited. Its just, man this update.
Strategos Six is back, baby!!! Omg, yes!! I knew it, i knew it!! My prediction came true. Michelle wouldn’t have gotten rid of the Strategos Six character right after she introduces them. Strategos Six is probably going to now hunt down Ava, leading to a galaxy wide manhunt/ adventure. Yes, Yes, YEs, YEAS. HELL YES!!
Okay to the smaller stuff,
More Gil calling out Maggie, I feel like she deserves it and maybe she will learn from it. And I like that Gil is being righteous about his cause. I think this brings up a good point, Titan’s society is not perfect, though they try to come off like it. While the lower classes or nonbelievers aren’t given the best (Ava and Maggie’s reeducation planet didn’t give a crap about them) but that can be the exception. Titan has created medical marvels that save countless lives ( Gil’s) and they give a purpose to people lives, (even a slightly twisted one). Its basically any other religion or movement, it has its good side and bad side. It is a grey area that I hope Michelle explores more. When Ava kills Titan, the society will crumble and what will happen to all those whose lives depend on it, or have spent their whole life dedicated to it. Its an interesting outcome I want to see, consequences to Ava’s deal.
To something lighter,
More of Odin’s witty burns, Maggie’s probably should be on fire with all the sick burns right now. Its so good.
Damn, Ava’s destruction is wide-spread. That’s some major damage for it to be seen from space. Wrathia’s powers is something. I love Odin’s smile at it, either representing his happiness at Titan’s misfortune or how little Ava recked the place. Cute.
A/N: 5th part of this miniseries!! These will be kinda short stuff, where it’s each part rewritten in Derek’s POV, but there will be some stuff that you won’t have known as well. So…yea! Hope u like it!!
P.S. If u wanna be tagged in anything, send me an ask and I’ll add u!!
Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Pray, console your loving poet,
Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it’s written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation’s OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation – think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won’t it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It’s a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough –
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!
THE CHAOS by Dr. Gerard Nolst Trenité (Netherlands, 1870-1946)