you have to work tomorrow

R.I.P. VINE 

(part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (X)

“Dude, you’re crushing on Keith? I heard from someone that he’s ace.”
“Yeah, he is. Isn’t that amazing? He’s so wonderful and he loves aliens, too.”

Because Ace Keith who loves to read is my jam. /o/ Redbubble

actor

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

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Hey, that girl you made fun of for dressing like an emo, her dad dresses up like a pharmacist, makes useless machines and gets beat up by a platypus in a fedora. Yeah, it’s not always how it seems, so think before you act.

Don’t Leave Me

Request: Hey! Just found you’re account a few days ago, and I was just wondering if I could request? I honestly love your write so much. ❤️ if you could wright a newt scamander imagine where Newt leaves the reader for Leta (set in hogwarts) and they don’t talk until like some point? Idk. please make it angst but with a happy ending? Thanks!

Word Count: 2,288

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @caseoffics and @red-roses-and-stories

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


You spot Newt’s lanky frame curled up in the grassy spot near the lake, knees against his chest and hands around his knees as he stares out over the water, His shaggy hair blows like the waves in the breeze. You can’t fight your smile as you watch him absentmindedly brush his hair from his eyes. You reach into your pocket, forgetting that your gift is back in your room, hidden between the pages of your transfiguration textbook. You remind yourself that it’s only one more day before you can give it to him. One more day.

He doesn’t hear you approaching, jumping at your voice when you call out to him.

“There you are.” The words are a routine, a joke from nearly a year ago when Newt had approached you with shaking hands.

Newt starts to stand, but stops when you shake your head and toss your books onto the ground, plopping down next to him. “Here I am.” He says, scooting over as you take his hand.

“Studied any amazing creatures lately? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

Newt’s smile is small. “It’s only been a week and a half.”

You raise your eyebrows and lean back. “Sure feels like forever.”

Newt stares at your joined hands. “Maybe.”

The breeze slows, leaving only the warm sunshine to brush your face. “It’s beautiful out. I hope it stays this way for tomorrow.”

“About tomorrow…”

You don’t notice the change in Newt’s tone as you chatter on. “Wow, can you believe it’s been a year? Isn’t a picnic the perfect way to celebrate a year together?”

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3

…cannot be killed or swept aside. now fill the world with music, love, and pride.

Liberal Arts College Gothic
  • You need another English credit. You already have thousands of English credits. They fill up your room and chase you down the street. You are drowning. You need another English credit.
  • You have an essay due tomorrow. You always have an essay due tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes. You must keep working on the essay. It’s due tomorrow.
  • Everyone is getting undercuts. Under what? You are never sure what lies Beneath. But sometimes, you see the Void.
  • You need classes in different areas for a full education. You go to these areas. Your feet are blistered and bleeding. You must find all the areas. 
  • There is a Party In The Woods. It is exactly like the last one. You fear you are stuck in a time loop, but by then it is too late. Someone sells you a plastic cup of PBR for five dollars. 
  • You know everyone on campus. Their faces, their tattoos, and their souls. You start walking with your eyes closed: you do not want to see. 
  • There are sports teams. They whisper restlessly around the edges of campus. If you look directly at them, they disappear. But once in a while, you can hear them scream. You do not know if it is celebratory or scared. 
  • Straight boys feel alone. There are so few of them. There are straight boys everywhere you look. They feel so alone. 
  • “This way is more environmentally sound,” they say. You can hear the environmental sound. It sounds like Nicki Minaj. 
  • School is not The Real World. Objects crumble under your touch. Your professors are translucent. Your books are in an ancient tongue. This Is Not The Real World. 

based on this post where lardo and shitty are accidentally pregnant

She was five weeks in and nothing was showing, but she’d been puking almost everyday and had refused Bitty’s pumpkin pie yesterday. Lardo hadn’t told her mom yet, and Shitty refuses to tell anything to his father, but she knows that his mother knew. Jack had called her immediately after Shitty freaked and told him a week ago, before freaking out himself and telling Bitty, who had broken into their apartment in order to make sure she was okay.

“I’m okay, people should stop asking me if I was okay, I’m pregnant, not sick.” She complained to Jack, who only answered by giving a silent nod.

“Shitty’s freaking out,” Jack said instead.

“I know.” She groaned and put her face in her hands. A moment of silence passed between the two before she lifted her head again. “I don’t want to chain him down like this or jerk him around emotionally. I know he wants me to keep it.”

“He wants whatever you want,” Jack said.

She knew that, but she could also read Shitty well enough to know that he was ecstatic and wanted nothing more than to have her keep it. And the scary thing was, she could also feel herself being as excited as he is.

“How are the two of us even remotely qualified to be parents? He’s just starting his job, and I have my job.” And Lardo wasn’t sure that her bosses would let her take a maternity leave. And even more terrifyingly, she just realized that she wasn’t on the life track that she had envisioned for herself with this job. Sports management paid a lot, and Lardo knew she was on the fast track to a good promotion, but now this forced her to look at her life, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend it all on picking up after athletes. But she wasn’t sure if she could provide proper care if she didn’t have this high paying position. And it was a downward spiraling mess of disaster.

It was as if Jack could read her mind, or at least the mood in her mind, because he puts a hand on her shoulder and leaned back on the sofa that they were sitting at.

“Maybe you’re thinking too much,” he said. “Just concentrate on whether or not you want to keep it, and trust in your friends to help you no matter which choice it is. We’re a team.”

She sniffed, and suddenly Jack found himself with an armful of Lardo. She let her tears and snot stain his sweater, and he held her through her trembling. When the two of them extricated themselves from their situation, Jack extended a fist, and Lardo bumped it.

“Got your back,” they said together.

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3

Opening emergency PWYW commissions!
I need to raise $500 to pay off my uni tuition!

There is no minimum limit aside from $1+ but please consider: I am a human being and I need food :) I’m just relying on your kindness

- You can pay $1 but quality may vary :)

They’ll be in this style.They can either be a bust (like the 1st example) or something like the bottom two.

I am also trying to (slowly) save up for a Switch + BotW to make life bearable, but that is no priority and is just a faraway dream. :’)

How it works:

  • Please submit, IM, or discord (msg for username) me with your commission with any references. Discord would be easier to submit wips.
  • I draw SFW and NSFW, anything you wish c:
  • Paypal in USD, and need an invoice.
  • You can pay before, after, or half n half. I am flexible //flexes 
  • Donations are definitely appreciated!!
valentine’s day // dylan o’brien

Summary: Dylan falls in love with a girl who hates Valentine’s Day

Requested: no

Pairing: Dylan & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut throughout

Masterlist

His long legs extended across her lap as he took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Sighing contently, he placed the glass bottle on the floor and snuggled deeper into his couch. Her hands were lazily drapped over his feet as she focused on the television. The movie that they had been watching was fairly interesting although she was having a bit of a hard time following the plot.

“Wait, is he the sister’s boyfriend?” Y/N asked her best friend who shook his head in return.

“No, that’s the guy they met at the bar who looks like the boyfriend.” Dylan explained.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N continued to watch the film hoping somewhere along the way things would make sense.

This was their routine. Every Friday night for the past 3 years was spent on his lumpy couch drinking beer, eating pizza, and watching movies. As the ending credits started, Y/N let out a soft yawn as she extended her arms.

“What did you think?” Dylan asked, eager to know what she thought of the film. “I thought she was going to pick the boyfriend’s brother’s friend.” Y/N admitted with a giggle, thinking about the cliched love triangle movie she just watched. “The ending was very unexpected.”

Pulling his feet off of her lap, he sat on the edge of the couch.

“What about you?” She called out as he walked to the kitchen with his empty beer bottle.

“I was routing for the boyfriend’s brother’s friend too.” His laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

Their friendship consisted of watching cheesy romance movies together, texts at 3am when they couldn’t sleep, and the comfort of knowing that they always had someone they could count on. It was completely platonic.

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I fully believe Lance has worked at a summer camp at least once (but lbr he totally worked every summer, camp is good for the soul) because you don’t jump on an obvious swear that isn’t a swear like “Quiznak” and use it for an all purpose non-swear unless you’ve worked around kids that you have to maintain a general pg rating around (you’re the“Guidance”) and ensure they have a good relaxed time with you but that will totally rat you out to their parents and get you in trouble with your boss if you use recognizable swears. 

Lance uses words like “this place has gone apples and bananas”. He totally works around kids ok. What self-respecting teen who HASN’T worked at summer camp would use words like that?No one. And because you have to condition yourself to use those silly fillers instead of swears it leaks into everyday vernacular and you. just. don’t stop after summer ends and maybe you sound ridiculous but hey you aren’t scaring small children with your bad words.

Maybe I should just cave and write a summer camp au. Lifeguard!Lance, anyone?

This is for the one’s who were forced into adulthood,
never getting the chance to be a kid.
Never getting the chance to run in the rain,
play in the sand,
spill milk without crying,
fall asleep without fear.

For the one’s who cried themselves to sleep each night
praying to a god that they didn’t even believe in,
desperately trying to find the strength to go on.

This is for the one’s with broken wings
and a stolen halo,
for the one’s who forgot how to fly.

For the one’s who feared coming home from school,
the one’s who covered up their bruises with long sleeves and make-up,
and crawled under the bed at night because that was the only place they felt okay.
For the one’s who only felt safe
behind a door, a mask, a blanket, the bottom of a bed,
the one’s who only felt safe when they were hiding.

This is for the one’s who were afraid of the dark,
the one’s who could only fall asleep if the light was burning in the hall.
The one’s who were friends with the monsters underneath their bed
because they were kinder
than the monsters in their homes,
and in their heads.

For the one’s who had to sit on the lap
of someone who threatened them,
berated them,
touched them.
The one’s who were too young to understand;
understand why it was happening,
and why they would cry and scream
but still no one responded to their pain.

This is for the one’s who lost their childhood innocence
to an impure caress,
to dirty eyes,
to private parts,
to rough hands and razor blades.
The one’s who blame themselves
for everything everything everything.

This one is for you,
you there with the big blood shot eyes,
the shaky hands,
and the dirty fingernails.

For you when you take a bath
and you breathe in as hard as you can and
submerge yourself under water,
in hopes that you can stay down long enough
to never come back up again,
except when your corpse floats to the top.

For you,
when you lay the sharp edge of a razor blade vertical
to the biggest vein on your wrist,
and think about how easy it would be to just cut.
For you when tears pour from your swollen eyes,
and you put the blade down on the counter.
For you when you curse yourself
for being too weak to go through with it,
again. 

For you when you feel like you can’t breathe.
And when you decide you breathe best
when you stop breathing altogether.

For you, 
you who wants to forget,
you who wants to “sleep it off”.
For you when you pour your bottle of Ambien 
out onto your shaking palm
and you stare at all the little pills,
knowing that you have enough to go to sleep
and never wake up again.
For you when you put your palm up to your mouth,
ready to swallow every single pill,
only to stop
because you have to go to work tomorrow,
and who will feed your cat in the morning?
Who will tell your best friend to remember to finish her homework,
and who will drive your little brother to band practice?
This one is for you 
when you put the pills back in the bottle,
and then curse yourself all over again
for being
so
fucking
weak.

This one is for you;
for living day after day in this hell that feels ice cold.

For you, putting those pills back in their bottle,
not because you are weak,
but because you are needed,
and you know you have to continue to see at least one more tomorrow.

For you, taking the blade off your wrist,
and putting it back in its hiding spot,
not because you are weak,
but because you are brave enough to hang onto your life for one more day.

For you, bringing yourself up and out of the water
not because you can’t hold your breath any longer.
You know you could stop breathing forever.
But because you remember what it was like to be forced
into holding your breath,
and you would rather live to see another day
than feel like you are suffocating all over again.
And for you, because secretly,
you want to keep breathing, at least
for a little bit longer.

This one is for you,
for us,
for the children raised on hatred
and broken beer bottles
and cigarette ashes
and razor blades and private parts and violation and sweat and fists and black-blue bruises and tears and shame
and regret.

This one’s for us,
the children who were forced to grow up too fast,
and were never once given permission
to look back.

This one is for us,
for saying, “fuck it,” at those who told us we needed permission.
Fuck it to people who don’t allow us to be ourselves.
Fuck it to forgetting about the past, 
and fuck it to letting that past define our future.

Here’s to looking back,
here’s to starting over,
here’s to healing.

This one’s for us.

—  Ayla Mae, Cheers
Time For Bed

Originally posted by jaerins

Time For Bed
Rated: Mature
[Talking Christian into going to bed was harder than you thought]

Got a request from silexia and I thought it was super cute so here you go~ My first Christian Yu scenario~

You hated to say it, but you were happy when Christian stopped being an idol. That lifestyle was so hard on you both. The hectic work schedule, the traveling, the late night practices. It was all awful.

But he’d found a new love and passion. Editing and directing seemed to be his calling and you supported every waking moment of it. But just like his previous job, you found him staying up all night working on it.

You came home from work mid-day to find your boyfriend hard at work editing Live’s new MV, and here it was well past midnight and Christian had barely even moved. He probably wouldn’t have even eaten if you hadn’t brought him food.

Getting him to stop was going to be no easy feat. You’d been trying to for the last couple hours, and he’d always just say “Just a few more minutes Babe. I’ll be right there”

“Christian?” you knocked on his office door, poking your head inside. “I made you some tea”

He turned around giving you a tired smile, the dark bags more and more noticeable under his eyes “Thanks, Babe” he removed his headphones accepting the tea. “I just got to finish up a few more scenes and then I’ll be off to bed. Ok?” he smiled into your touch, kissing your hand. You didn’t even have to ask to be rejected anymore.

“Alright…Not too late ok?”

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