you just look like a moron

So I need to share something with you guys as I’m giggling like a moron right now okay??

The Prodigy. Good band, love their music. One of their more famous albums, which had Firestarter on it (big fave of mine), was Fat of the Land. I’m guessing they just went to the artist for the album art and the artist was like I KNOW JUST WHAT YOUR ALBUM ART NEEDS.

VERY INTENSE CREB. 

So fast forward fifteen years, and the Prodigy decides to release an anniversary album for Fat of the Land with some remixes and extras. They apparently went back to that same artist and they just looked at them all, cracked their knuckles, and screamed to the heavens:

INCREASE INTENSE CREB. MANY INTENSE CREBS. BLOT OUT THE SKIES WITH VERY EXTREME CREBS.

Sentence Prompts

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Where are your pants?”

“I laugh because I hurt inside.”

“Please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later.”

“You look like an open autopsy.”

“That’s french for ‘go away’.“

“You know, I would help, but making fun of you is so much more satisfying.”

“No, you silly goose, it’s magic!”

“Put me down!”

“How much did someone pay you to wear that?!”

“What did you just do?!”

“Stop filming me, moron!”

“It was all me, by the way.”

“Look at this, ACTION ROLL! They’ll never see it coming!”

“You know ‘give me a warning’ means let me know BEFORE they come in here!”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“I may have mildly panicked…”

“Ooo, that must’ve hurt!”

“I am very, very bad under pressure!”

“Shut up, it’s fine, just chill, we’re fine, I’m fine, everything is cool, everything is good! We’re chill, nothing is happening and I am not freaking out, not at all, we’re FINE.””

“Now, not to be forward, but I love you.”

“I’m 72 different flavors of done with you.”

“Hey, on the ground there it says you’re a gullible shit.”

“It’s do or die, most likely die.”

“No it’s ‘Protect and Serve’ not ‘Get Rekt and Swerve’.”

“You make me smile.”

“Liam Neeson would do it.”

“Jail can’t stop me.”

“It’s four o'clock, don’t you think you should fuck off?”

“I remain confused.”

“As the wise Scooby Doo said; “Ruh Roh”.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel fabulous.”

“Can someone shoot him?”

“Well this isn’t at all like High School Musical.“ 

“Quick, blend in!”

“At the moment, it seemed like a good plan, obviously it was not.”

“Well obviously nothing is going on here!”

“Can I help you?”

“Don’t be intimidated by my bloody and battered figure.”

“Is your name Bob? You look like a Bob.”

“KILL ME! KILL ME IN THE EYES!”

“Well that was unsettling.”

“Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

“Why is there a picture of Steve Buscemi in your bathroom?!”

“My budget is 5 dollars, what are your recommendations?”

anonymous asked:

I like how this blog is becoming "buck-grampa, tell us a story", "aight, lil shorts, there was this cow..." Cuz you're old.

wait what???? im old???? i hadnt noticed, i thought that 100 year birthday party was for a different jackass with a metal arm. 

look, the only reason most of my stories are about the good ole days is because most of the morons i hang out with now have blackmail on me. and i have blackmail on them. we’re all doing the nuclear deterrent thing, it seemed appropriate with the russian-american vibe we’ve got going.

so i cant dish dirt on them without getting dished back. 

and i like you guys just fine, but i would rather murder every one of you than let tony tell anyone the story of the three shrimp plates. 

death before dishonor and all that

Byun Baekhyun//Psych - Part 1

Originally posted by callmeminseok

Summary: After a month of being broke at college, you finally find a place to stay, but the only con is that there is nine other people you have to share a house with - one in particular who makes it his mission to irritate you at every turn - but they’re hiding something from you. Something big. (Part 1/6)
Scenario: Werewolf!AU, college!AU, series
Word Count: 5,972

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Keep reading

saffreelove  asked:

And maybe fluff #12 and smut #14?

Fluff 12: “You have something in your hair…um-do you want me to get it out?” & Smut 14: “Do you know how bad I want you?”

Warnings: NSFW (18+) Implied smut. More fluff than anything. 

Bucky x Reader Drabbles Celebration

Your first day off in weeks was the happiest day, in your opinion. It coincided with the first day of fall, your favorite season. That crisp chill in the morning breeze. The changing colors of the leaves. Getting the extra blanket for your bed. Pumpkin spice. And you’d decided that the day wouldn’t go to waste. 

Grabbing the first book of your TBR shelf, you put on your favorite thin sweater and headed out your room. Your confident bravado melted when you saw two familiar super soldiers in the kitchen. They had just come back from their morning run, and while you had no problem with Steve, anytime you were around Bucky Barnes, you turned into a real awkward and shy moron. 

Your crush on the former Winter Soldier was evident to everyone in the tower but Bucky apparently. 

You saw Steve grab the milk carton out of the fridge and drink straight from it, fortunately breaking you from your hypnotized reverie, leading to you snort in disgust. 

“I know you’re practically a 100 year old man but I know your mother didn’t raise you in a barn Rogers,” you remarked. 

You were met with an appreciate laugh from Bucky, and instantly your cheeks reddened about three shades of crimson. You looked away, averting his gaze. 

“Morning Y/N,” you heard him say. 

You awkwardly nodded and muttered, “James.” You cleared your throat and excused yourself, heading out of the compound with your book in tow. You walked until you reached the outskirts of the compound’s property line just before it turned into forest terrain. You sat down and leaned against the bark of one of the trees, relaxing into a comfortable position before settling into reading your book, completely unaware that Bucky had been watching you from the kitchen window. 


You read until you felt your eyes get tired. Closing your book, you let out a long stretch, groaning when you heard the bones in your back crack, earning a much needed reprieve from sitting in the same place for so long. Making your way back toward the compound, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you heard your stomach grumble. 

“How was your book?” you heard a voice call out. You turned and saw Bucky sitting on the couch, a closed journal in one hand and a pen in the other. 

“It was fine,” you replied, setting off for the kitchen. You could suddenly feel your heart pounding in your ears, spurred on further when Bucky got up and followed you into the kitchen. 

“You have something in your hair…um-do you want me to get it out?” He asked, a warm smile on his lips. 

“Oh!” you cried out, embarrassed as your hand flew up to one side of your hair, trying to seek out the unwanted accessory. 

Just when you thought you couldn’t unravel any further, you heard Bucky chuckle. “Here, let me,” he said, stepping closer to you. He outstretched his hand toward your hair, and you couldn’t help the fresh crop of gooseflesh that peppered your skin when his fingertips made contact with the back of your hair. When he pulled his hand back, he showed you the culprit. A stray leaf that had fallen from the tree during your morning read.

“Thanks Bucky,” you say, not quite meeting his eye level. 

“Y/N,” Bucky called out, his voice softened. “Have I done something to upset you?” 

“What?” you gasped, shocked. “No!”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You talk to everyone on the team but me. Whenever I’m in the room, you get all quiet. And then you leave. Like you couldn’t be in more of a hurry to get away from me. If there’s something I’ve done, please tell me so I can make it right.” 

You shook your head and expelled it with a shaky breath. “No Bucky, I promise you haven’t done anything to upset me.” 

“Then what is it? I mean, if…” he said, his eyes going wide in realization. “Oh, I see.” 

“Yeah,” you tensely laughed, protectively folding your arms across your chest. “Look Bucky, it’s just a crush. I promise things will get normal between us soon and I won’t act like some socially inept moron. You just have to let me get over it.” 

As soon as you tried to brush past him, you felt his soft touch on your hand, effectively holding you back. Gently, he pulled you back, turning you around to face him, his eyes a feral mix of predatory lust and genuine adoration. 

“What if I don’t want you to get over it Y/N?” 

“What…why wouldn’t you?” 

Bucky smiled and brought a single finger up to your cheek, caressing the length of your blushed cheekbone until it reached an errant strand of your tresses, tucking it gently behind your ear. “I thought it was pretty obvious doll.” You finally allowed yourself to begin to relax in his arms, even going so far as to smile at him, playfully biting your bottom lip. Searching each other’s eyes, you both tried hard to emote love, acceptance, but most of all, permission. As though you were both finally on the same page, you stretched your neck while Bucky lowered his head, your lips tenderly touching each other. Quickly you felt your kiss quicken in its pace, every nerve under your skin lit on fire at each new exploration of his hands on your body. 

Leaning against the island to gain momentum, you grabbed Bucky by the sides of his shirt and pulled him toward you, using your tongue to push against his lips. He granted you his permission as his lips parted, your nerves renewed once more at the sensation of his warm tongue dancing with yours. You groaned when you felt his hardening length press itself against your thigh. 

Pulling away, you nervously chuckled and half covered your face. “I’m sorry,” you sheepishly grinned. 

“Don’t be sorry doll,” Bucky smirked. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you?” he asked. 

Before you could reply, Sam cleared his throat and brushed past the both of you to get orange juice out of the fridge. “Well whatever you guys do, do it in your room. We eat here.” 

You buried your face in Bucky’s chest, trying to muffle your embarrassed laughter. Bucky pulled your chin up and arched a single eyebrow at you. As though you knew what he was asking, you nodded and let him lead you out of the kitchen toward his room, leaving the sound of both your laughs in a trail behind you. 

Steve came into the living room, smiling. “Y/N and Bucky?” he asked. 

“It’s about damn time,” Sam replied. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Limbo (Derek/Stiles)

frostniskare “I bet I can make you scream my name.” Sterek

This is your fic prize for winning second place in my birthday giveaway! I really hope you enjoy where the muse took the prompt, as I’m sure it’s not in the direction you had in mind. Hopefully, you’ll like it anyway! For those who read my “Just Like Me” series, this fic could be considered a prequel in that verse. However, you do not need to have read that series to enjoy this! Fic #42 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

 Limbo. Derek/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.

Stiles and his team are on an undercover stakeout that’s not going too well. Derek’s using his powers for good, but Stiles knows it’s not the right moment for their relationship to change. 

“I bet I can make you scream my name.” The words are accompanied by the thick stench of whiskey and good old-fashioned bad breath.

“Yeah, see, I’m not really feeling it so I’m gonna have to decline that bet.” Stiles scans the club looking for the potential suspect, trying to ignore the old pervert attempting to pick him up. He’s not interested, and he made it clear, so the guy should leave soon.

Keep reading

Do You Miss Me (at all) Sherlock x reader part 1

A/N: This took me forever to finish! For the love of god, I struggled with this hours and days! So, this will be two parted, and apologizes for not posting fanfics for awhile, I’ve been busy with other things (also tried to figure out how to continue the heartless, there will be a new chapter of it soon enough, hopefully) also this was supposed to be out at Friday, but I couldn’t get myself to finish this since this basically a dialogue done by shouting and fighting. But anyway, hope this is good in some sort of weird way.


Here’s a link for the next chapter http://all-fandoms-fiction.tumblr.com/post/157287362239/do-you-miss-me-at-all-2-sherlock-x-reader


You had been in a relationship with Sherlock for over four months now and not to get you wrong, you did love the high functioning sociopath even if it got rough. For example he barely told you he cared for you more than as a friend. It had taken him all his might to tell you that just that once when you started dating and you were as surprised as anyone would’ve been in that situation. To hear Sherlock Holmes, the detective incapable of understanding sentiment or compassion, say he loved you was enough to make you faint, but you didn’t. First you thought it had to be a trick, to test an experiment and one specific kind had slithered in your mind. He was probably testing how you felt about him, even having his own suspicions of you having feelings for him. Maybe he was waiting for your pupils to dilate, testing your pulse? Then he did something that nearly gave you a heart attack. He had kissed you. From there on you two had started dating, but it took some time from him to convince you he really liked you and it wasn’t for a case or a test.

It had been just once he had said he loved you, from that on everything had gone down hill. You knew he wasn’t into opening his heart, which you had become aware of that second he had opened it to you, but you couldn’t but wonder had he come to his senses of you and realized he had only fancied you for short amount of time and the feelings had died by now. At bad days he seemed he barely even acknowledged you were in the same room. He was snarky with his comments, nearly making eye contact and ignoring you at times. It wasn’t anything John hadn’t ever experienced with Sherlock but you couldn’t stop thinking that you would be even slightly privileged to be treated in better way than that.

Sherlock had been buried with work, now on his list at the top was a new case that hadn’t made any progress and it frustrated him. He was tense and easy to piss off. You were the same, but for other reasons. His acts had reflected on you, his now nasty personality and way of ignoring you made it impossible for you to stand him.

The two of you had just come back to Baker Street from a crime scene and you were fuming of rage. Once again you had been pushed aside and treated like you knew nothing. Even Lestrade, just like Sherlock always said, was capable of sensing the situation. Even the police inspector was able to make out Sherlock was doing a lousy job as a boyfriend. You couldn’t forget the wide eyes and the blank, puzzled stare he gave to you two when Sherlock pushed you, no, he literally pushed you more than once aside and kept telling you to keep quiet as your suggestions and deductions would just embarrass him, you and everyone around.

You stomped up the stairs to the flat, Sherlock following after you. You stayed close to the door leading back downstairs while Sherlock went to sink in his chair. He released a long heavy sigh and closed his eyes in disappointment. He muttered how useless the visit had been and how it had only cost his precious time on the case in hand. The crime scene you two just witnessed had, as he said, obviously nothing in common.

”Did you really have to do that?” You questioned after waiting enough, listening to Sherlock muttering and complaining about the case. Your hands were crossed over your chest and your right foot was tapping the floor in an impatient way. To this Sherlock answered with lowered brows and watched you in confusion. You huffed and looked away. ”Embarrass me in front of the whole Scotland Yard?” You corrected. Sherlock only rolled his eyes and went to correct you. ”There was nearly even half of the Scotland Yard present.” Sherlock shifted in his seat. ”I wouldn’t worry about them. They barely know anything so you being incorrect now and then wouldn’t make them any better than you.”

You could hang onto that statement, he had almost praised you just now and it was the best you had got from him for since he had been burdened with this particular case, but then again you didn’t need to settle for this. This wasn’t enough to wipe all the bad comments he’d made in the past though you weren’t even sure was there anything he could do, a one single act that would calm you.

”To you that was the entire Scotland Yard.” You pushed persistently. He had said it himself countless of times. The people in Scotland Yard that had ever worked with him were the only people that counted if you asked for his opinion.

”Well, yes, but obviously it wasn’t exactly the whole Scotland Yard.” Sherlock placed his fingers under his chin, resembling his mind palace position but he kept his eyes open and on you. He eyed you suspiciously, trying to deduce what you were going through in your head, but judging by his expression he had no idea what made you so pissed. ”Is something bothering you?”

To that you let out a sarcastic laugh. Had he really only got that out of you? He really was as magnificent and astonishing as John always said. Sarcastically saying of course. But this time he surprised you by how dumb he was.

”Are you really that blind?” You finally snapped. You humorously watched as Sherlock gave away how offended he was by your statement but without skipping a beat you continued. ”You embarrassed me in front of Scotland Yard! And that’s not all! You’ve treated me worse and worse the further we get down on this case. Hell, you even treat Anderson better than me!” And it was true. He had even praised Anderson today for stating something so obvious and simple that even a blind person would’ve seen it.

”I was being sarcastic.” Sherlock muttered seriously and looked down on the floor, clearly drifting away from the conversation and to his mind palace.

”Well, it wasn’t clear!” You yelled and threw your hands in the air. ”Everybody thought you really meant it. And don’t dare shut me off now!” You took three long steps and put your hands on either side of Sherlock’s armrests on his chair, your face inches away from his. ”Don’t treat me like this!”

”Treat you like what?” Sherlock shot up from his seat, you taking a fast step backwards to make more room between the two of you. He stared back at you coldly. His blue eyes were like frozen and he looked intimidating. Sherlock tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he questioned you.

”I told you already! You ignore me! Like I don’t exist at all! You always pretend like I’m not there. You put your work first and I feel like I don’t even exist on the list of your priorities! You also have pushed me around, literally, and you won’t let me even speak when we’re out!”

”Stating the obvious shouldn’t be reworded! You want me to let you embarrassed yourself? By pointing out what everyone is able to witness with their own eyes?”

”Oh, so now I’m embarrassing myself? Thank you for saving me, Sherlock, for keeping me quiet when I could’ve said something dumb!” The room was silent for a second, until you took a deep breath. ”Look, you keep me around but make it feel like I am the one clinging on you and following you like a lost puppy, and when I try to advance you, you only shoot me down. You won’t show me I matter!”

”I have told you how I feel about you, do you really need me to do it several times a day? Because you know I won’t be up to it. I am not a man who keeps showering you with all the pleasantries and praises-!”

”I know that and it’s not what I asked!” You snapped back. You were wondering was Mrs. Hudson listening to you two shouting. If she was she was probably worried. Worried what you’d do if this would go further on and how you would end up like. Mrs. Hudson knew what Sherlock was capable of when he was bored or even drugged, but when angered? And with you against him? You couldn’t answer to that either.

”Then what is it? I can’t quit my job and forget all the cases just because of you. Just because of love.” He pronounced the last word with disgust, as if the whole word was ridiculous to even be said.

”I’m not telling you to quit, I’m suggesting you to leave it be when you clearly can’t work it out, not now at least. You’ve run out of clues and there is nothing you can do to make the problem solved. You have to wait!”

”I can’t just wait until another one gets killed!” Sherlock spit out and glared down at you.

”Well, there’s nothing else you can do.” You told him matter of factly. ”Just talking about the case makes you a mess, Sherlock. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, and how you treat people around you is horrible. Even if you have a problematic case in hand it doesn’t give you the privilege to act like a moron!”

”Oh so I am the one acting like a moron?” Sherlock looked down on you. ”You have done nothing to help me on this case, the reason I keep you around is only because I thought there would be use of you, but guess I was wrong with you. And here you are, waiting for me to sugar coat you with flatter and sweet talk. Like it wasn’t enough I told you once how I care about you.” He had struggled enough by telling you he loved you once, and what were the looks of it he wasn’t going to do it ever again and actually it made you want nothing more than him to never say anything to you.

”I knew what I was getting myself into when I started this relationship with you.  I know it’s hard for you to say how you feel, but I’m not asking you to tell me that. It’s just that you never show it! You never sit next to me, you never walk close to me, and you barely talk to me! If you could just treat me like a human being!” You didn’t let Sherlock answer, you paced around nervously, but not scared. You were infuriated. ”I really thought I wouldn’t be the only one to do things I don’t usually like to do. Like waking up at 3am in the morning to visit a crime scene, or running around London after a maniac without eating for a whole day! I still never complaint! But where I draw the line is when I am treated worse than even the people you can’t stand!”

”Enough with Anderson already!” Sherlock sighed and spin around.

”I’m not talking about Anderson! I am saying you don’t treat me like your girlfriend and even Lestrade saw what was going on today!” You felt bad at thinking about it again, your stomach dropped at the thought of it. ”The way you act towards me isn’t normal, Sherlock!”

”So I’m supposed to be all around you when we’re on a case? Oh, wake up, (Y/n)! I do not show emotions or am I even capable of feel certain of emotions. Love and sentiment do not get me anywhere and there for I keep them out of my life!” You flinched. That was it. You had enough.

”Then let me help you.” You said and went to get your bag.

”What are you doing?” Sherlock asked sounding bored and fed up by your attitude, his brows furrowed.

”Like you said, you rid yourself of certain feelings. There for I’m leaving. Sorry I ever bothered to step into your life.” You said and turned. ”Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes.” And with that you left. You went down the stairs in a hurry and rage, stomping loudly. You heard Mrs. Hudson come out of her flat, now standing next to the front door, looking at you worriedly.

”Are you two having a little domestic?” She asked with a sad and nervous tone.

”Could say so.” You answered coldly and opened the door.

”When are you coming back, dear?”

”I’m not.” You deadpanned. You had stopped at the entrance and were looking at Mrs. Hudson with a serious expression.

Mrs. Hudson gazed up the stairs to the living room. ”I’m sure what ever he said he doesn’t mean it.” She assured you, but you knew better and you also had made up your mind.

”I’m sure he did.” You told, then closing the door and left Baker Street.

Mrs. Hudson was left alone to wonder what had happened. She let her eyes wonder towards the stairs again, whispering sadly to herself, ”What have you done now, Sherlock?”

anonymous asked:

If Ziam is real they clearly have an open relationship because it doesn't take intense digging to find receipts on them sexting girls as recently as the week just gone.

Oh yeah, let’s not question THOSE sources. Because Zayn and Liam are clearly just sitting around slipping into people’s DMs. 

It is a fact that all five members of One Direction have their social media accounts monitored, and often run, by social media managers. The Rye Social is the company that managed (manages?) 1D’s social media account, both for the band and personal accounts.

It’s rare that some information about shady shit that a celebrity as high profile as Zayn Malik or Liam Payne will just appear online organically. Just like, if a celebrity as high profile as Louis Tomlinson, who was in the midst of a world tour with his band whose main demographic is young women and girls, got a rando pregnant, there is no. way. in. hell. that any PR manager would let that story leak. And they CERTAINLY wouldn’t let it leak while the girl was still in her first trimester. 90% of people wait longer to tell their friends and family that they’re pregnant than they did to tell the entire world that she was apparently pregnant. 

My point is, these stories and screenshots and multiple photos taken in clubs that just happen to clearly catch someone looking like they’re standing pretty close to someone else with the flash on are a pretty convenient way of making you question your goddamn sanity. It’s called gaslighting. 

“Liam and Zayn can’t be together! Look at all these chicks they’re sleeping with!”

“Louis can’t be gay! Look at him standing close to a girl!” 

Just because these things are caught with cameraphones and screenshots does not make them immediately legitimate. 

Think about what screenshots like this serve to reiterate. First of all, that Liam and Zayn are straight. And second of all, that they’re complete morons because why would they put their cheating plans in writing? It’s pretty consistent with the media portrayal of both of them from 1DHQ. Well, definitely with Zayn’s character in terms of the cheating thing, but I’m sure Simon Cowell is doing everything he can in his power to discredit Liam’s character at the moment. 

It would be very simple to be like, “Of course they’re going to sleep with lots of girls! They’re young and in the most successful band in the world.” That would certainly be consistent with the rock and roll lifestyle. 

How-ev-er, there is one thing that should be like, “Hi, I’m a red flag!” And it’s this guy:

Niall travelled the goddamn world on a lad’s holiday doing God knows what and we got one or two fan photos. Niall dated Selena Gomez. You know how I know he dated Selena Gomez? Because a friend texted me from Shoreditch House to say, “lol Niall and Selena Gomez are sitting next to us and they keep making out.” 

So you’re telling me that Niall can (semi-)publicly make out with one of the biggest stars in the world and not only do most people not know about it, but not one magazine or newspaper reported on it? But Zayn, Liam, Louis and Harry look at a girl crosseyed and it’s a Daily Mail exclusive? 

One of these things is not like the other.  

And that’s all I have to say about that.

[lmaooooo so i stumbled across this blog two days ago and immediately fell in love. I may have accidentally contradicted established canon in here b/c i haven’t read everything and i really wanted to join in, so i really hope i’m doing this right.]

——

You think it was, perhaps, a bad idea to name yourself after your characters. You think it was, in fact, a bad idea to go to Elsewhere at all. It wasn’t even the university you wanted to go to; you had wanted somewhere close to home, where you could maybe visit on weekends and call up your mom whenever you managed to fail at doing adult things like laundry, as you knew would inevitably happen.

And yet…when you found Elsewhere University, it was in your state. It was not thirty minutes’ drive from home. And it was intriguing. You still probably wouldn’t have gone, would have chosen the college you’d been dead-set on for two years, would have slipped the net and been normal

Except you saw one of Them. You saw a flash out of the corner of your eye, and you didn’t know the rules, so you spun to do a doubletake, and you saw it, saw Them.

You aren’t sure what happened after that–it gets a bit blurry–but the next thing you knew you were sitting at orientation, your things already in a dorm guarded by salt and an iron horseshoe.

You have been told you’re one of the lucky ones.

You major in animation. Or you had wanted to. The memories of your classes don’t stay in your mind all that well, but you manage to churn out the same A-to-B grades you had produced in high school. You aren’t sure how you’re doing it.

You try to follow the rules. You try to remember. You have seen the consequences. For once, instead of trying to stuff everything into your head and hoping your shit brain won’t forget something, you write them down in a notebook that never leaves your backpack.

This is probably a bad idea. It may even be a disastrous one, but if it is, you haven’t heard the rule that warns away from it, and you are scared enough as it is that you, with your autism, might miss a social cue or be unable to pick up an unspoken rule and end up offending the Gentry anyways.

You once read a tumblr post that said changlings were the explanation people came up with to explain kids with autism in the far distant past. Obviously, this is not completely true, because the Fair Folk are real and real changlings are too, but you take some measure of comfort in that post and pray your own autism will endear you to the Gentry instead of offending Them.

But the real problem is, you became an animator (or wanted to, at least) because you are a creator. You invent things, weave worlds, and when you came to Elsewhere University you came already carrying a large, elaborate tapestry of a world, filled with magic and a fey that had its own internal systems, thought out, explained in depth, and with the sketches and maps to go with it, formed over four, five years of loving care and writing and drawing.

You have your own magic, and your own fey, and they do not mesh well (they barely mesh at all) with that of Elsewhere. Nobody knows about this, and you have put your world to the side, because everything in you screams DANGER at having something like this around the Gentry. You keep all you have of it in your closet, and you salt the edges of the closet plus a circle around the bag you keep it in, then scatter iron nails inside the circle. That world is precious to you, and you will take no chances with it.

So it was probably a stupid idea to name yourself after one of the characters in it.

That isn’t even the only problem, or necessarily the true problem. The true problem is you put yourself into the characters you create, and this makes that name almost as dangerous as a True Name after you get used to it.

You didn’t realize this until you looked into the mirror, and your hair was several shades lighter than it should be. You were able to puzzle out the problem, fortunately, and in a spasm of panic you switched your alias to a different character before it got too far and you became your character.

Except, because you’re a moron, you switched it to a character just as close to you.

This carried on for a while, and your eyes got bluer, and then your skin got darker, and then you got taller, until finally, in desperation, you ran a name generator until you found something with no association to your characters, but still felt nice as a name. Not too nice, of course.

By then, though, you didn’t look much like yourself anymore. You curse your idiocy, but the only way you can think of getting your original appearance back is to use your real name, or else the name you used on the internet. You aren’t that stupid. And it’s nice, sometimes, the way you look now.

You really, really hope the name you generated doesn’t end up being a True Name for this other you.

You are learning the true dangers of being a writer, artist, creator, in Elsewhere University. You are far too close to your stories. And if you write yourself into them, you worry that story will become Truth.

The Gentry are like that, you’re fairly certain.

So you watch your words and make sure your characters don’t resemble anybody (or anything) too closely when you sketch them idly in class, and when you write, you do it inside a circle of salt. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but you need your words, your art, your stories.

You do not know if you are doing this right.

You really, really, really hope you are.

 [x]

Innocent

Request: Maybe a fic where Negan finds the reader (or a short girl with curly hair named Miranda? pretty pls) from “before” in Alexandria (not a community member, a traveler who convinced the guard to let her in). She was like, his cute little teenage neighbor who had a huge thing for him that he ignored bc she was only 16. But now she’s legal and less shy and just a smidge flirtatious. Like she says things that are borderline innuendos and pick up lines. And keeps joking about daddy issues. - Anon

Pairings: Negan x Miranda (OC)

Warnings: language. smut. (oops I did it again)


Age 16

Running a hand through your long and curly hair, you let out a loud and guttural sigh. Tracing the outline of your current drawing over again, you glanced up from your sketch pad. Your street was calm as you swayed back and forth in your hammock chair on your front porch. The late afternoon air was crisp, and you smiled as you heard a few birds whistle beautiful tunes. Checking the time, you sighed and leaned back as to let the chair swallow you whole.

Your dad never came home this morning, and you had a pretty good idea why. He had been shacking up with some woman almost every night of the week, and would go out drinking without as much as a goodbye. Ever since your mother walked out on you, your dad had completely changed. With no siblings to care for or spend time with, you were left utterly alone for the majority of your time. You had grown accustomed to it, however.

Keep reading

Call Boy Winwin (Winwin x Reader)

AYYY WAZZZ UPPPPPP MY BABESSS!!!! I’m back and ready to make y’all bust A NUT! People said it wasn’t possible, Winwin, an angel, a precious baby, could never be a call boy. Well…listen up children: yOU CAN DO ANYTHING U SET UR MIND TO SO HERE WE ARE! I’m super proud of this one and happy how it turned out, so please ENJOY!!!

P.S. Winwin’s ears and lips were literally sculpted by god fite me in the quad

Originally posted by fairyprincewinwin

The popular cozy cafe was ridden with customers, leaving you squeezed in a corner on a fluffy cushion with your cup of tea in hand and balancing a book on your knee. Luckily you sat directly next to a big window, allowing you a view of the whole street, where fashionable young couples and groups of friends were strutting about hand in hand, arms looped together like destiny knots.


You sipped your chamomile, feeling unsatisfsfied with the bitterness of the drink. You had a sweet tooth like no other, preferring your herby drinks to be drowned in sugar. Tucking your book under your arm, you made your way over to a neat little table that held cream and sugar, decorated with sweet smelling flowers and vintage knick knacks.

You made a move for the sugar when a much larger hand knocked into your own, causing you to jump and apologize, spilling some of the tea down your hand with a yelp. You winced at the pain and finally looked up at the other person, “I’m so sorry! Please excuse-,” you quickly recognized that familiar gorgeous face and plump lips, “Winwin!”

He had on a concerned look, seeing the way your hand had turned an angry red, all splotchy and painful looking, “_______! Is your hand okay?”

“Oh,” you looked down at it with a blush, not believing your luck. You turned back to him with a sheepish smile, “It’s fine, I guess.”

He gave you a look, taking your book and cup from your hands and leading you over to the table where he was sat at, his things sprawled over the surface. He grasped your hand gently, lifting it up in the dim natural light to see what the damage was, “I’ll go ask for some ice. You should go to the bathroom and run your hand under some cold water while I’m doing that, okay?”

You flushed with embarrassment, as you mumbled your reply through red cheeks, “O-okay.”

You scurried off to the bathroom as the skinny dark haired boy walked over to one of the servers and asked if they could spare a bag of ice. You entered the restroom and turned on the brass faucet all the way to the coldest setting, gingerly sticking your hand under the freezing stream to relieve the pain. You stayed that way for a few minutes before you felt like you’d had enough of women walking in and giving you strange looks, returning from the bathroom to find Winwin had grabbed another chair and pulled it beside his, a respectable distance away.

You sat down, greeting him with another smile, “I got a bit tired of people giving me weird looks in the bathroom.”

He let out a small chuckle, an adorable little sound that seemed to match so well with his deep accented voice, “That’s okay, they managed to give me ice.” He reached for your hand again, looking up at you for permission with pink ears before you placed your hand in his, “Here, this should help a bit.” He pressed a plastic bag of ice wrapped in brown napkins to your hand, the cooling effect alleviating some of the pain.

“It’s not that bad,” you joked, covering your grin with your free hand. “I’ve burned myself worse on my curling wand, this is nothing.”

He laughed again, making your heart sing along to the sound, an addicting lilt you’re sure you could here for the rest of your life. You dared to look over at him, through a curtain of hair, “So…what’s my best friend doing at my favorite cafe?” You poked at his arm, “Last time we were here, I distinctly remember you saying something like, ‘This place is too crowded, I don’t like it.’”

As you mocked his voice, Winwin pouted, turning his gaze toward the window so you couldn’t see his blush, “W-well I just thought I would give it another try. Besides,” he countered, “they have the best coffee.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled, glancing down to where he softly cupped your hand in his. “It’s been awhile since we hung out, Winwin. I miss you, I’m a lonely hermit without you.” You tried to sound like you were joking, but truly, you missed him like a starfish missed the salty water of the sea.

He didn’t reply for a moment, hesitating, “I-I’ve been busy with work.” He lifted the ice pack, inspected your hand before replacing it, “I didn’t expect that I would barely get any free time,” he met your gaze, sincere, “I missed you too though.”

You blushed, trying to find something to say back, searching, “So how has your job been? Do you like it? What was it again…? A bellhop?”

Winwin nodded eagerly, “Yep. And you know it’s really interesting because I get to see so many fancy people, it’s crazy.”

“I’ll have to visit you sometime,” you smiled, rolling your eyes. “When I finally get paid that is.”

“Oh, yeah,” he seemed to remember something, looking interested. “How’s working at that bookstore going?”

“It’s nice,” you bit your lip. “But the old couple who run it always seem to forget to give me my paycheck…or actually write it at all.”

Winwin furrowed his brow, “Why don’t you say something, dummy?”

“Because I can’t seem to bring myself to do it,” you dramatically sighed, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “They’re just so old, but really sweet. And sometimes I think they can’t understand a word I say at all.”

Winwin laughed, finally taking the ice pack off, looking satisfied at how much better your hand looked, “Well that stinks. At least your hand is better.”

“You should kiss it better,” you teased, half-joking, secretly half-serious. “Then I’ll feel completely healed,” you recovered by laughing obnoxiously loud. Nice one, you moron.

“O-oh, okay, I mean sure.” The dark haired boy stuttered, lifting your hand fluidly and gently pressing his plush lips to the back of your hand. He let them rest there for a second too long to seem more than friendly, allowing his lips the secret pleasure of just feeling you skin.

He blushed and pulled away, face completely red, “There, happy?”

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled, heart racing as you retracted your hand and pressed the back of it with your fingertips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he took a shaky breath and checked the time on his phone, nearly smacking himself as his dark eyes widened, “Shoot, I’m going to be late.”

“To what?,” you asked, curiosity bubbling up inside of you as you watched him gather his laptop and books, hands a flurry.

“To work,” he exasperated, slinging his bag on his shoulder. He murmured to himself, passing a hand through his hair, “They’re going to be so mad.”

“Get going then,” you smiled gently, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his pants. “And don’t forget to text me when you’re off so we can hang out again, okay?”

He managed a smile, his petal pink lips quirking, “Yes ma'am. See you later.”

“Bye,” you waved as he quickly walked away, weaving in and out of customers with his slim dancer body until he reached the door. You’d already turned away, so you didn’t see the way he looked back at you one more time, longingly, his eyes soft.

You looked down at your still pink hand, thinking of the way his lips had felt against it, a pang in your heart. Feeling like a love sick puppy, and an absolute loser, you pressed your lips to where his had been, pulling away only to wrap your arms around yourself sadly. How pathetic were you, to be the girl who falls in love with her best friend? But falling for Winwin was inevitable, you knew you felt something for him the day a mutual friend introduced you to one another.

You shook yourself, mad that you were so upset over something like this. But you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t deny your heart, that was foolish. So you packed your things up, needing council and comfort, you went to the one person who’s advice you held above all other’s.

~

You arrived at the chic apartment building, shiny and new, full of hip young people and newlyweds. You felt jealous and out of place as you passed all the couples holding hands, fingers itching to mimic the gesture, but grasping at empty air. You were grouchy after the elevator ride when you finally reached the sleek dark brown door of a certain apartment. You pressed the doorbell impatiently, hearing from the other side of the door shuffling footsteps walking over.

The door opened up to reveal the gentle dark eyes and strong jaw of Taeyong, a smile on his lips, “_______! You actually showed up.”

You scoffed, punching him in the arm as he snickered while you walked in, “Save it Taeyong, I’ve had a day.”

“'A day’?,” he wondered sarcastically, “Are you on your period or…?”

You flopped on the couch facedown, your voice muffled, “Oh my god, shut up. This is why I don’t come over here often.” You groaned into the downy cushion, “You just pick on and bully me.” Sitting up and looking around you asked him, “Where’s the girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, making you scoot over so he could sit down too. “She’s at a…lesson right now. So what’s up? You seemed kind of upset on the phone.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, worrying at your bottom lip. “It’s just…I feel like Winwin doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore, that I make things awkward and-”

“_______,” the older boy interjected, “To Sicheng, you’re his universe, he practically revolves around you. Do you know how many time I’ve had to sit through him being a primadonna and whining about how he misses you-”

“Wait, what?,” you blubbered, turning your body to look directly at him, eyes wide.

Taeyong looked at you like you had grown two heads, “Yeah, you two are literal morons. He’s had the fattest crush on you since the moment I introduced you to him at my birthday party.” He smirked at you, poking you teasingly, “And we all know that little Miss here has had the hots for our resident prince since day one too.”

You blushed, happy but embarrassed by the fact that everyone could see Winwin’s feelings far more plainly than you. You picked at a loose thread on your sweater, quiet, “What should I do then? He’s always busy with work, being a bellhop of whatever it was-”

“A bellhop?,” Taeyong questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sicheng doesn’t work at a hotel at all.”

You were taken aback, “What do you mean? He told me just today that he had to leave for work and that he was a bellhop at some hotel.” You felt betrayed, “He didn’t lie to me…did he? Why would he?”

Taeyong sighed, unsure of how to approach the subject, knowing fully well Winwin should be the one to tell you. After all, if Winwin wanted to date you, you were going to have to live with what he truly did for a living. The older boy placed a warm hand comfortingly on your shoulder, “_______, don’t blame him for lying to you. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you or scare you.”

“What?,” you replied, eyes full of confusion. “Taeyong, I really don’t understand-”

“Sicheng is a call boy,” Taeyong blurted out, eyes hard and gauging your reaction. “He’s a male prostitute.”

You felt your stomach drop, not expecting an answer like that at all. Quiet and sweet Winwin a sex worker? You couldn’t even fathom it.

“How?,” you quivered, hands shaking as you digested this new piece of information about your best friend.

“It’s not my business to tell you,” Taeyong murmured. “That’s Sicheng’s part to tell, I’m not going to steal it from him. Better to hear it from the horse’s mouth anyway.”

You bit your lip, nodding, looking down as your phone buzzed and reading the name of the subject of your conversation. It was Winwin, telling you he had nothing going on tonight, no work.

No work.

You don’t know why, but your fingers moved on their own accord, typing out a message asking Winwin if he wanted to hang out at your apartment later. You might as well get it over with, you thought. Better to have him hate you now, rather than later.

Winwin’s reply was fast, excited with many emojis as he said that sounded good.

See you then.

~

Your palms itched as you paced around your small apartment, talking to no one in particular as you reassured yourself, and maybe your house plants.

“Listen, ______,” you eased yourself onto your futon. “Being a…call boy doesn’t change who he is to you. He’s still Sicheng, still Winwin.”

Your mind just kept taking raking through memories of times you’d spent with him, searching for queues and indicators of his true feelings for you. You also thought of what might have prompted him to make such a drastic occupational decision, he seemed too…innocent for such a job. But according to Taeyong, Winwin had been going strong for a few months now, since he started his second semester at the university you both attended.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely heard the mechanical ding of the doorbell, nearly jumping out of your skin as it rang through your tiny abode. You stood quickly, “Coming!”

Patting down the comfy and loose dress you’d decided to wear before striding cautiously over to your front door, you nibbled nervously on your lip. You reached for the door, gingerly turning the handle and opening it to reveal the sweet smile of your best friend, “________.”

Seeing him almost made you forget everything, a smile mirroring his, “Winwin.” You held out your arms and he rolled his eyes, swooping you into his.

He held onto you, comically rocking you back into your apartment, “Been a while since I’ve seen your place, but you’re still a plant hoarder. Killed any of these ones yet?”

You playfully shoved him, shutting the door and crossing your arms, “Hey, those ones died because I bought them from some cheap convenience store.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” he teased, shrugging off his coat and still observing your humble abode. “It’s really cute,” he mentioned, hanging his jacket next to yours and softly striding in. “Everywhere I look it’s you.”

“What?,” you blurted, snapping back to attention after dazing off staring at his strong looking back.

He chuckled, “I said you’re everywhere. This apartment really has your style.”

“Oh and what’s that?,” you countered, joking around as you plopped on the couch. “Messy?”

“No,” he pouted, collapsing next to you and stretching an arm on the back of the sofa. “It’s cozy and cute, just like you.”

You hoped the dim lighting of your living room hid your blush as you stuttered your thanks, “O-oh, thank you. I tried.”

Winwin smiled gently, but his face shifted and became more concerned, “_______, I’ve been wondering, are you doing okay?”

You were startled by his question, confused, “O-of course! I’m perfectly fine!”

You answered too quickly for his liking and he narrowed his eyes, “I’m serious. You can tell me anything.”

Your heart lurched, causing you to frown and furrow your brow, “But you can’t tell me anything? Winwin, trust is a two way street.”

It was his turn to look confused, “What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”

You sighed, grasping his hand and giving it a tight squeeze, “No, it’s just…” You couldn’t find it in your heart of hearts to tell him, so you lied, “I just worry about you sometimes, that’s all.”

You gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster and he gave you a crooked one, relaxing his shoulders and murmuring, “You don’t need to worry about me, _______. You’re the one burning yourself on chamomile.”

You laughed lightly, and then it grew quiet again, like both of you knew what had just happened wasn’t real, a safe lie. Trying to lessen the tension you wiggled your cell phone, “Wanna order take out…?”

“God, more than anything,” Winwin breathed, snatching your phone from your hand and looking up your favorite restaurant, not even asking what you wanted to order before he called the place. He knew you all too well, and he saw through your lie.

You flipped on the television, finding one of those channels that played the same movie over and over for a whole day. Finding one you both liked that had just been released on dvd, you went to your closet and grabbed all the blankets and pillows you could carry. Winwin had already dimmed the room, letting the soft glow of one lamp and a few candles illuminate his face, making you completely stop where you stood. His tan skin looked golden in the light, and you could see the brown flecks in his dark hair, eyes reflecting the yellow light of the lamps. He looked so at ease, like this was the first time he had relaxed in weeks, and the bags underneath his eyes were indicators of that.

You felt a lump in your throat, realizing how much you’ve missed him, and how you wanted to make this night special for him, a night for him to just relax. You walked over and playfully dumped the soft blankets and pillows all over him from behind the couch, making him jump and reach over for you. Winwin pulled you over the couch and into his arms, tickling you furiously as you screamed with laughter, “S-Stop, W-Winwin…!”

He pouted as he stopped his assault, “That’s what you get, you know I don’t like being scared.”

You giggled softly, letting your head fall back against the pile of blankets as Winwin cradled you in his arms. The boy let the moment fade into silence, still not letting go as he gazed at you with longing, watching as your eyes fluttered closed and your chest still heaved from laughing. He wanted to tell you so badly, to let you know how he felt, how he had always felt.

He even wanted to tell you what you already knew.

He could ruin this friendship by confessing, or, if by some miracle you felt the same way, he would still have to deal with the fact that his job wasn’t one that appealed to most. He can’t even imagine how you could feel alone in bed, wondering who he was going to be fucking that night, where, and when he would come home. You would probably worry if he really did love you, or if you were just simply a distraction for him from his job.

But you were so much more to him, you were his best friend, and he could never cause you that much pain. He already lied to you, and now, Winwin already knew that you knew. You were trying your best to hide it, but he could tell that you were still struggling to accept that that was his reality.

Seeing you look so beautiful and at peace made his heart hurt, he wanted you to know. Maybe you would be able to accept, and maybe you would be able to be with him. In that moment, Winwin realized if he didn’t tell you how he felt and what he did, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Taking a deep shaky breath, Winwin’s perfect lips parted gently, “_______.”

“Hm,” you hummed, eyes still closed and your body still relaxed.

“Look at me,” he murmured, allowing you to sit up and move out of his lap. “Please.” Brow furrowing, you did as he asked, pulling one of the blankets into your lap for some semblance of comfort as your heart raced.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he swallowed, eyes reaching yours for a split second before darting down to his hands. “I should have told you weeks ago, but I was so afraid. I was so scared of losing you that I lied, and only to you.”

Winwin looked up at you again, dark eyes hard with shame and fingers clenching, “I’m a call boy, _______. A male prostitute.”

You blinked, swallowing painfully as you realized that this was reality and everything Taeyong had told you had just been confirmed.

“I didn’t know.”

“You knew,” he murmured, eyes turning downcast, ashamed. “You just didn’t believe it.”

“What do you want me to say Winwin?,” you murmured, reaching out to cradle his head against your chest. “I realize now that you haven’t changed, you’re still Winwin to me, no matter what you do for a living or what lifestyle you choose to have. You’re still my Winwin, okay?”

You heard him give a shaky breath, sniffling once as he brought up a hand to wipe his eyes. You couldn’t stop what came pouring from your mouth next. If now was the time to confess all harbored secrets, you had to tell him yours too.

“And you already know something too, Winwin. You’ve probably known for so long and I must look like an idiot for never telling you-”

Your words were cut off as Winwin lifted his head and cupped your cheeks, placing his perfect mouth on yours without a sound. Your eyes were wide with shock, hands shaking as you gripped the blanket, could this really be happening…?

Your thoughts were confirmed when he began to move his lips against your, kissing you tentatively at first. You let your eyes close, senses heightened as your fingers released the blanket in your lap and found his thick hair. His kisses grew more confident, breathing in such a way through his nose that your heart thudded in your chest as you realized what you meant to him.

Winwin kissed you fiercely, gasping as he dragged your bottom lip with his teeth and drew you into his lap. You straddled him confidently, never wanting to be so close to someone before and feel all of them, every touch, smell, and taste. Your friend slowly pulled away, lips lingering on yours as one of your hands came up to feel how hard his heart was beating through his endearing pink sweater.

His breath ghosted across your lips, as he gave a tentative smile, “I didn’t know.”

“You knew,” you repeated his words from earlier, though they were filled with joy and mirrored his shy smile. “You just didn’t believe.”

“But I do now,” he murmured, already leaning in and pulling you impossibly closer.

“But you do now,” you whispered right before he swallowed you whole again, his hands already wandering to places you had only dreamed of him touching.

The wet sounds of your kisses made you moan quietly against his lips, never having kissed someone who was so good at it before. Winwin was a natural, and no wonder he found a talent for sex, because your panties were already beginning to dampen from under your loose dress. You couldn’t help the way your hips started to move against him, body naturally seeking a way to feel more, and to make him feel good as well.

He gasped from the sensation, prying your mouth open with his tongue and ravaging you with it. He tasted like caramel coffee and cream, so addicting that you rubbed your tongue against his in order to taste more. He pulled away and chuckled, hands on your hips and still allowing you to grind softly against him, “Taste good?”

You nodded, biting your lip shyly as you slowed your roll and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Stick out your tongue,” he whispered gently, a smile on his plump lips and a thumb running soothingly on your hip.

You did as you were told, mouth open and tongue out as you wondered what he could possible be wanting to do to you, not that you were complaining. You were surprised and so incredibly turned on when his own tongue came out and swirled around yours, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on your wet muscle sensually. You could taste the caramel and the sweetness of the cream even better as your eyes fluttered close and you moaned loudly. Your hands found his sweater, grasping onto it tightly as your hips increased their pace again, loving the way his rough jeans rubbed your clit through your panties. Your dress had completely ridden up your hips, and Winwin’s hands couldn’t help grasping your thighs and squeezing them with a groan.

And just like that, Winwin pulled his mouth away, looking at you through his lust with serious dark eyes, “_______, we don’t have to, not today.”

You sobered up quickly, looking directly back at him with a clear mind, “I want to, Winwin. I want you.” You grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it gently, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips as you added, “Please.”

His lips parted and he smirked shyly, looking so cute and hot at the same time that you wanted to throw yourself off a building, “Okay, but I’m not going to fuck you, I’m tired of fucking.” He kissed your nose softly, resting his forehead against yours, “I’m going to make love to you, and you’re going to be my first and only.”

Your heart swelled as you kissed his cheek, pulling him into a hug as he stood up with your legs wrapped around his waist. You buried your face into his neck, realizing you wanted loving Winwin more than lustful Winwin. He carried you to your bedroom, letting just the glow of the moon and the city light his path as he laid you down carefully.

He crawled over your body, slipping your dress higher and higher until it was over your head and somewhere on the floor. He left a trail of kisses over your stomach, the deep hum of his voice soothing against the skin, “I never really enjoy it,” he said, reaching behind and undoing the clasp of your bra, “Fucking, I mean. It’s too…detached and unfeeling.”

He continued, your chest arching into him as he massaged your breasts, “You may feel everything that’s happening…the touches,” he leaned down and took one of your peaks into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. “The hands, the fingers,” he reached and tugged your panties down your thighs, fingertips dragging over your skin before grazing over your dripping core. “But that’s not really feeling, is it?”

You mewled as his thumb rubbed your clit generously, swallowing your moans with his mouth, “N-no.”

“Feeling are those touches,” he murmured against your lips. “But with someone you love.”

He stilled his hand, and you ceased your sounds of pleasure, watching as he looked down at you with eyes clouded with adoration. You smiled, brushing his hair from his forehead, “Are you saying you love me right now?”

Winwin blushed, hand retreating from your wet heat, “Y-yes.”

“Don’t,” you grabbed his hand, bringing it back to your lower lips and helping him insert a finger. “Show me.”

You tentatively reached down and began to rub him through his jeans, “And I’ll show you.”

It was a switch, from a shy boy with a crush, to a man who wanted nothing more than to worship your body and feel everything with you. He quickly rid himself of his sweater and you watched as goosebumps raised over his tan skin, fingertips arching across his chest. He shivered and pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, his cock aching to feel the slickness that his fingers felt.

No words passed between the two of you, touches and looks told everything as Winwin removed his pants, watching with a small smirk as you gazed at his member. He felt confident, wanting to ask just once, “Am I what you expected?”

You gulped, sitting up to push him onto his back, as you murmured in reply, “You’re what I want.”

Winwin groaned as you stroked his cock languidly, enjoying the sensation of his veins and the slickness of his precum. Feeling adventureous and eager to please, you let your lips wrap around the tip, letting go only to place a long kiss on it. The boy let his head roll back, a hand weaving gently into your hair, cursing as you took him in. Your head bobbed quickly, feeling his thighs tense beneath you as he whined, “______, I want to come with you, please stop…!”

You gave him one last long suck, releasing him with a pop and a trail of saliva on your lips. You moved over him, scared for a moment at what this all meant. You were sleeping with your best friend, a call boy, who are trained to make a woman think she’s their entire world, just so they can make a buck. Winwin saw the panic in your eyes and rolled you over, pressing your bodies together so you only felt him. His voice was hard, but his eyes were soft, “Stop. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true.”

He leaned down and kissed you chastely, tucking your hair behind an ear, “I’m not here as Sicheng the call boy, _______. I’m here as Winwin, your Winwin, who was a stupid lovesick idiot the moment he laid eyes on you.”

“Do you really love me?,” you choked out, wiping away the tears that spilt softly down the sides of your face. The unconfident girl inside of you longed for him to scream yes, to reassure your thoughts and hopes.

Winwin cupped your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his gentle brown eyes, “______, you won’t ever know how much I love you. I can only dream about you seeing yourself the way I see you.”

He leaned down and sealed his words with a kiss, making you smile against his lips as happy tears escaped your eyes now. You shifted your hips, indicating that you were ready for him, and he responded in kind. Gently parting your legs, he positioned his member above your entrance, looking you in the eyes as he slid into you with almost no hindrance. It was like you had found the missing half of yourself for the first time, the feeling of him sheathed inside of you.

And perhaps you did find your other half in that moment.

Winwin let out a sigh of relief, gaze still trained on your face as he allowed you to adjust and make the first movement of your hips. You gasped, rolling yourself up to meet him, feeling the way he rubbed and slid past your walls over and over. It was intoxicating and beautiful to see the look of sheer love and adoration on his face, all for you to kiss and mirror.

Without a word, you silently passed the reigns of power over to him, allowing him to set the pace and take control. His movements were passionate and precise, making you feel as though you were moving with him as one, not two bodies. He bent down and buried his face into your neck, leaving kisses and whispering your name with hot breath, the mantra slipping past his lips without a break. A hand slipped down to stroke your sensitive bud, rubbing in the same rhythm as his hips, heightening your feeling of pleasure.

“Winwin,” you moaned softly, addicted to the sound of his skin slapping against yours and of his gasps as he sped up, close to his high.

His thrusts became more erratic, choppier and, for a split second, animalistic as he rutted into you and rubbed your clit to completion. The two of you cried out each other’s names, hips still frantic as you savored the feeling of euphoria at the same time as one another. Winwin rubbed you until your thighs shook from overstimulation, wanting nothing more than to see to it that you felt your fair share of pleasure. Your head rolled back and you squeezed your eyes shut, fisting the sheets as he slowly finished his assault on your sensitive bud.

He pulled out carefully, but not careful enough to catch the seed that spilled from your heat and onto the sheets. He smiled gingerly, but you just waved away his worries by pulling him down for a kiss, dragging him to lay beside you in the moonlit room.

You watched the reflection of yourself and the moon in the dark pupils of his eyes, and he in yours. True love was beheld by the two of you as you stared into each other’s reflections both ways. He pulled you close, body tucking against his in such a perfect way you could weep at the feeling. He smiled contently and kissed your forehead, tucking you beneath his chin and humming softly as his eyes slid close.

Drowsiness slowly pulled you down into her warm embrace, but the only touch you felt was Winwin’s. You waited until it seemed like he would fall asleep before kissing his lips tenderly and whispering, “I love you too.”

Between the Shelves (M)

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, One-shot

Word count: 5,252 words

~•~•~•~

You looked around the public library, satisfied that you’d managed to find a section completely devoid of people. Granted, the place was usually mostly empty, but you preferred to be absolutely alone while you did your work. Your roommates were always throwing parties at the house you shared, and when they were not hosting one, the entire house would be shaking with the noises they made with guys they brought home. After many, many not-so-subtle, then downright obvious attempts to tell them that the walls were thin, having them apologise to you just to do the same thing again the next day, you had given up. You liked your housemates immensely and you have a lot of fun together, but you needed silence when you were studying or finishing your many assignments.

The university library was not an option either. You had no idea why it became such a popular place to hang out in. Sure there were many students who went there to study, but they could never do it quietly. Discussions erupted here and there all the time, with voices that they did not bother to lower even by one iota. When you complained to your friends, they knew better than to suggest that you try sitting at one of the tables in the back away from the ruckus. Those secluded corners produced noises of their own that you found even less tolerable: moans and grunts of people making out, and who knew what else.

That’s when you stumbled upon the town’s public library. It was not very big, but boasted a pretty large selection of books covering various genres that was supposed to appeal to the public, but for some reason not many people visited. Perhaps people preferred to read online. We were in the age of advanced technology after all. Anyhow, it was better for you this way. An entire library all to yourself was heaven on Earth. Save for the occasional visitors who rarely stayed long, coming just to borrow or return books, and the surly librarian whom you have never seen move from the front desk except to go for lunch or relieve herself.

And him. Ooooooh, how you hated that guy for invading your sanctuary at first. It was during your second visit to the public library and you were smiling to yourself, excited to have found this gem where you could study in peace. You settled down at one of the tables near the row of windows, enjoying the soft rays of sunlight pouring through into the library. You’ve only been there twice but you knew that this was to be your favourite spot.

Every bit of your attention was given to your laptop screen, fingers flying across the keyboard in an effort to type out your report in record time so you jumped in surprise when you heard the legs of a chair scraping against the floor. You lifted your head up to see a tall guy with dark hair sitting down a few tables away, facing you. His head was bent down as he dropped his things onto the long table: a brown leather satchel that rattled when he set it down, his phone and a paperback, probably a novel.

As though he sensed that he was being watched, he looked up and met your eyes. With how hard you’d been staring, you wouldn’t be surprised if he did feel your eyes on him. He flashed you a grin, and you couldn’t help your lips parting just a little as two prominent dimples dipped into his cheeks. You shifted your eyes down to your computer without responding, wanting nothing but to continue your work in peace.

You heard him plop down into his seat and then the sound of pages rustling as you assumed he was there to read his book. Suddenly the report in front of you stopped making sense. You searched your mind for the words you meant to write, having mapped out a rough idea of the report in your head before you even started, but your brain had decided that the person that had just arrived was infinitely more interesting than the piece of writing that you were supposed to hand in the day after tomorrow, and was refusing to cooperate.

He’s cute, the thought ran through your head before you could regain your focus. A few seconds were spent frowning and chewing on your lower lip before you chanced another glance at him. Your chin tilted upwards a mere centimeter, your eyes doing most of the movement, but he caught you anyway, because he had his eyes on you the entire time. You suspected that, but it didn’t stop blood from rushing to your cheeks when his smile grew (Was he smiling the whole time?) and this time you managed a little nod of acknowledgement of his presence before you dipped your head back down.

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Punished

Summary: Very carefully and skillfully, you have been stealing from the Saviors for over a month now. Until one day you allow your ego to get the best of you and you challenge Negan to try and catch you, himself.
Prompt: I had one of the Hide and Seek prompts! I decided to put a twist on it and incorporate more of a cat and mouse type of game.
Word Count: 4,265
Pairing: Negan/Female Reader
Chapter: One-Shot
Warning: NSFW, Smut, Language
Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long to complete! Thank you Ash for extending the deadline. Congrats on 2,000 followers! I’m not sure if I’m 100% happy with this but I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @negans-network

“God-fucking damnit!” You heard the loud, thunderous voice of the Saviors leader, Negan, roar out into the woods. “Someone better catch that little fucking thief, TODAY!”

Laughing to yourself, you hurried through the woods, maneuvering your way through the series of trees.

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some soft klance things
  • the castle is really cold at night, so a lot of the time keith will slip into lance’s room for warmth.
    • he doesn’t know how, but lance is always very warm and soft. (keith suspects this is because lance is like sunshine: glowing and radiant and full of life and energy. but he’d never say that out loud, because that’s like, super lame.)
    • and keith finds space really, really cold; living in the desert in dry, hot, awful heat for an entire year with no AC, and then suddenly being thrown into the void??? yeah, he’s not dealing well with the transition
    • it’s kind of a Thing between them. neither of them speak about it. they never speak about the way keith will slide under the covers beside lance, or the way lance just instinctively snuggles closer and throws an arm over keith’s waist, or the way keith’s entire being thaws when he sees how peaceful lance looks when he’s sleeping.
    • once they’re finally Official™ keith will make a point to tell lance how pretty he is when he’s sleeping, and lance will fluster and reply with a stuttered “yeah well–you– you’re pretty all the time, so suck it.”
    • (they’re both blushing messes for like, an entire week after this)
  • lance doesn’t deal well with quiet, and most of the time, that’s what space is. there’s no background hum of electricty– altean technology is completely soundless, they’ve discovered– or of wind or rain or family or anything. it’s so quiet it’s deafening, and lance always feels like he’s suffocating.
    • more often than not, it’s hunk who notices first; they grew up together, so he can tell as soon as lance is starting to panic. he’ll usually take lance somewhere private and just talk to him until he calms down.
    • keith notices this and wants to help, too. he’s not really good at talking, but lance is his boyfriend, and he hates feeling like he’s useless.
    • so one time lance starts getting really quiet and tense and he’s starting to shake gently and hunk is Nowhere To Be Found, keith is the only one there, so he does the first thing he can think of and just (hesitantly) pulls lance into a hug and starts rambling some senseless story about a really cool lizard he found in the desert one day.
    • eventually lance is shaking harder and keith is about to just go get hunk because oh god he’s making it worse but then lance looks up at him and his eyes are rimmed red from crying but he’s smiling and laughing
    • keith melts and chokes on his tongue and loses his ability to create words, but that’s okay, because lance is hugging him back and kissing his cheeks and whispering “thank you” and “i love you” over and over again.
  • lance gets keith to do a face mask with him like, at least twice a space-equivalent of a week. 
    • keith doesn’t really care all that much about skincare, obviously. he’s just a ‘splash water on your face and go’ kinda guy. when lance learns this, he is horrified.
      • “you don’t even wash?” 
      • “well i used to use soap sometimes but–”
      • “like hand soap???”
      • “yeah. like dove or whatever shiro had around.”
      • shiro used dove????”
      • “yeah i guess? i didn’t pay attention to what he washed his face with lance what the hell”
      • “HEATHENS, BOTH OF YOU”
    • so yeah lance is deeply offended. he’s like, “you’ve offended me, my mother, and ALL of my ancestors with your CARELESS ANTICS” and keith snorts and pins his hair back and says “then teach me, you moron” and lance is shook and goes “oh. yes. okay”
    • he somehow managed to create a few different face masks with space goo + ingredients that mimic like, clay, shea butter, coconut oil, etc. from around the universe and he slathers this muddy looking one all over keith’s face.
      • “for detoxification, retexturising, and radiance,” says lance.
      • “alright,” says keith, who doesn’t know what that means.
    • it has to stay on for a half hour so they’ll spend that time just laying there shoulder to shoulder on lance’s bed, sometimes holding hands, talking about whatever, until keith starts grimacing and saying “its getting all hard and dry and i can’t move my face” and lance says “that’s normal” and keith looks at him, horrified
      • lance: starts laughing
      • keith, trying desperately not to: STOP don’t make me laugh MY FACE IS CRACKING
      • lance: laughs harder

rick and morty: the rickshank redemption
         sentence starters

spoilers ahead if you have yet to watch this episode! i also kept in a bunch of quotes about the damn szechuan sauce just to make myself laugh.

‘  anyway, that’s how i escaped from space prison.  ’
‘  i just got my sixth promotion this week and i still don’t know what i do!  ’
‘  it’s great to have you back no matter where we are, but wouldn’t you like to go home?  ’
‘  get out of the booth, take all your clothes off, and fold yourself twelve times.  ’
‘  you cheap insect fucks didn’t think i was worth your best equipment?  ’
‘  relaxed, enough?  ’
‘  he is the smartest man in the universe.  ’
‘  well, when you’re not sure what you do for a living, you can make your own rules.  ’
‘  you’ve hardly touched your pills.  ’
‘  stop saying his name. he abandoned us!  ’
‘  horses live longer than tortoises now. is that what you want?  ’
‘  maybe i just want you to care if i run away yelling!  ’
‘  admit it, you’re going crazy cooped up in here.  ’
‘  yeah well, tough titties.  ’
‘  that depends on who breaks first: me or the titty.  ’
‘  if we stay here we’ll die along with all your memories.  ’
‘  oh, that sounds cool. i can get what i want and you can say goodbye.  ’
‘  fine, but i’m driving.  ’
‘  hey, i like being 35. i can rent a car now.  ’
‘  they weaponized the eiffel tower!  ’
‘  no one’s special to him. not even himself.  ’
‘  i’m not right! i was using ghoulish overkill.  ’
‘  we’re going to the day it all began… and ended. the moment that changed everything.  ’
‘  i’d like to get a 10 piece mcnugget and a bunch of the szechuan sauce. like as much as you’re allowed to give me.  ’
‘  in 1998 they had this promotion for the disney film mulan where they created a new sauce for the nuggets called szechuan sauce and it’s DELICIOUS.  ’
‘  wow, this sauce is fucking amazing! you said it was promoting a movie?  ’
‘  i used to wear blue pants.  ’
‘  well, well, well if it isn’t us.  ’
‘  nobody has to know about that. we can put it right back and pretend we never saw it.  ’
‘  i’ll make it up as i go.  ’
‘  oh my god… i have that exact same top!  ’
‘  that’s my sister. this used to be my home.  ’
‘  imagine doing anything you want and hopping to a timeline where you never did it.  ’
‘  excuse me? we don’t pass on this. who do you think you are?  ’
‘  i heard sci-fi noises. did you make a breakthrough?  ’
‘  i only wanted to stop by here for a quick ‘i told you so.’  ’
‘  why would you do that? what is the matter with you people?  ’
‘  i’ve got it… i’ve fucking got it!!!  ’
‘  awesome possum!  ’
‘  yeah, that’s the three lines of math that separates my life as a man from my life as an unfeeling ghost.  ’
‘  you can alter anything you want about a totally fabricated origin story.  ’
‘  lovely. not only is my plan screwed up, i also forgot how to improvise!  ’
‘  he’s a spy, blow him up.  ’
‘  i’m gonna go take a shit.  ’
‘  he’s not a lawyer. we just keep him here because he’s fun.  ’
‘  i say: fuck you.  ’
‘  you killed him because you were jealous of him. that’s pretty obvious.  ’
‘  what? no! i don’t want to see your pog collection.  ’
‘  let’s not suck the ghost of his dick too hard.  ’
‘  he’s not a villain, but he shouldn’t be your hero. he’s more like a demon or… a super fucked up god.  ’
‘  i know you’re too stupid to get this, but you’re really fucking this up right now.  ’
‘  i wasn’t going to let her die, you fucking moron!  ’
‘  you’re a serious fucking idiot. you basically killed us all!  ’
‘  who’s stupid now, bitch?  ’
‘  i’m almost proud.  ’
‘  look, i’m not proud to share this, but the truth is i just kept crawling and it kept working.  ’
‘  guess who dismantled the government?  ’
‘  please don’t leave me again.  ’
‘  is there any light beer left? it’s insane what you miss in prison.  ’
‘  no, you’re right. where’s the vodka?  ’
‘  i’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. i hope i had nothing to do with that.  ’
‘  i better tend to him before he changes his mind and doesn’t move out.  ’
‘  but never him. you wanna know why? because he crossed me. ’
‘  take it easy – that’s dark!  ’
‘  welcome to the darkest year of our adventures!  ’
‘  if you tell them i said any of this, i’ll deny it and they’ll take my side because i’m a hero and now you’re gonna have to go do whatever i say – forever!  ’
‘  and i’ll go out and i’ll find more of that mulan szechuan teriyaki dipping sauce because that’s what this is all about – that’s my one-armed man.  ’
‘  i’m not driven by avenging my dead family, that was fake.  ’
‘  i’m driven by finding that mcnugget sauce. i want that mulan mcnugget sauce! ’
‘  that’s my series arc. if it takes nine seasons!  ’
‘  i want my mcnugget dipping sauce. szechuan sauce!  ’
‘  that’s what’s gonna take us all the way to the end!  ’
‘  what are you talking about?  ’
‘  nine more seasons. nine more seasons until i get that dipping szechuan sauce or 97 more years!  ’
‘  fine. fuck it. who cares?  ’

Never judge a book by its cover

A/N: That’s a story I have written so long ago, just never knew how to end it until an hour ago; Enjoy.

Words count: 1900 ish

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: Talk about breast augmentation, body shaming, slight smut.

Originally posted by idealweightjensenacklesontopofme

Dean stared at the assistant he was asking some informations to. She has the widest low cut she could possibly wear at a work place, making her breasts looking like they were about to get out of her top. And had you never seen boobs as big as she had.

She had pretty much the body of one of those manga or hentai girl and hell, she was totally stunning, you thought.

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Notice Me [Chapter 7]

Originally posted by oompa-oppa

Chapter 7 of Notice Me

Ch1  Ch2   Ch3  Ch4  Ch5  Ch6

Series Genre: AU/Smut/Fluff/Slight Angst at times


“Isn’t weird how Mark has been with your sister all night? I mean the kiss during the game was one thing but the one I saw outside… that’s another story,” Mia said as she approached Jackson.

His eyes shot to hers instantly, confused by her words.

“What do you mean, the one outside?”

“Oh… I don’t know if I should say. It seemed private,” she continued, trying to conceal the smirk on her face. Her plan was working. Mark would be hers tonight one way or another.

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i wish we had seen more of Bucky. Don’t get me wrong, he was hands down the best part of the movie (besides my number one warrior king T’challa, ofc), but there wasn’t much of substance between him and Steve, and what there was might as well have been stamped with NO HOMO in big red letters. 

There should’ve been a scene where you see Bucky pissed. Not at Tony, not at Zemo, at Steve. 

“What is wrong with you?” Bucky demands, whirling on him as soon as they find a place to catch their breath. He can see the apprehension in Steve’s eyes, the question of whether or not Bucky is in his right mind. He honestly doesn’t know. He hasn’t known since before the train. 

“Buck - ”

“You were safe!” Bucky goes on, fighting to keep his movements contained. He knows anything sudden will spook Steve but he’s barely managing to keep a lid on his anger as it is. How could Steve be so stupid? Bucky is dangerous. He is a fucking weapon with the target of all targets painted on his back and Steve  just waltzed into the line of fire in the most recognizable getup on the planet. “Christ, Steve, why did you think I stayed away? You shouldn’t be in the same country as me.”

“They were coming to kill you, Bucky,” Steve says and Bucky’s heart breaks in time with Steve’s voice. 

“You should have let them,” Bucky snarls and immediately wants to take the words back as shock and horror cross Steve’s face in equal measure. 

“I couldn’t,” he says, wringing his hands helplessly. “I had to - ”

“You had to what, Steve?” Bucky demands, his metal arm whirring like it always does when he gets like this. Fuck somehow he managed to forget what a moron Steve is. A stubborn, bullheaded, fucking moron, but God Bucky hates that he’s the reason for that look in Steve’s blue eyes. “Did you think I wanted to stay here? That I wanted to be halfway across the world from you? I couldn’t come home, Stevie, because then you’d get hurt too.” He pauses, trying to collect himself but after two years of only seeing Steve through newspaper clippings and the pictures in his book, after trying to keep tabs on the Avengers - just in case, he always told himself - having Steve here in the flesh is almost too much. There’s something wrong with his chest and the corners of his eyes are prickling like someone’s thrown sand in them. 

Steve doesn’t say a word, just holds his hands out, telegraphing his movements. Bucky doesn’t move as Steve comes closer, and those warm, muscular arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him close. There’s a beat and then Bucky melts into the hug, clutching at Steve like he’s a goddamn lifeline and Bucky is drowning.  

“I just wanted to be with you again, you fuckin’ jerk,” Steve whispers into his neck and then Bucky can’t help the tears that snake down his cheeks, wetting the fabric of Steve’s uniform. 

“Had to keep you safe, punk,” Bucky replies in a hoarse whisper. “That’s my job, remember? Your ma always told me to look after you.” Steve pulls them apart after a few long moments, his eyes searching Bucky’s face. 

“Now it’s my turn.”

About SBFP

Recently, there’s been an increase of threads talking about the treatment Woolie and Pat received during the DS1 LP. Since Pat’s tweet, people (like me), became inspired to talk about the subject deeper.

While it’s true that their playthroughs can be frustrating at times, they shouldn’t be. The friends talk about a vast array of subjects, and games are used as a back drop.

By demanding a more expedient style, you’re basically ignoring the fact that these videos have a laid back approach to them. Like say, hanging out with your friends.

While it’s true that watching some parts of their LP can be kind of annoying, you can simply not watch and treat all like a podcast. I know because I do that often.

I’m not giving a free pass, just an alternative for those unsatisfied with their skill level. It’s getting to a point where I believe this kind of zealous criticism was a reason why Liam left and why the friends are getting less energetic.

It divides the community and the content creators, and it makes us look like a bunch of elitists morons. Beware, anxiety sucks shit, and getting shit for everything by everyone will eventually lead to a very bad situation, where no one wants to communicate anymore.

8tracks.com
Carry On: The Musical
A fan musical of the book Carry On by Rainbow Rowell using songs from many musicals (and a few non-musical songs). Each song is annotated with a quote or reference to the book to demonstrate where in the book the song is taking place. Sadly, the annotations are not available on mobile. :( (Please suggest any songs and/or quotes you feel need to be added!) Incredible cover art by ddoale.tumblr.com ! Go check out their blog; their art is fantastic and they are a really cool person!! (And so talented!!! Like holy s m o k e s)

Carry On: The Musical - listen here

A fan musical of the book Carry On by Rainbow Rowell using songs from many musicals (and a few non-musical songs). Each song is annotated with a quote or reference to the book to demonstrate where in the book the song is taking place. Sadly, the annotations are not available on mobile. :( (Please suggest any songs and/or quotes you feel need to be added!) Incredible cover art by @ddoale ! Go check out their blog; their art is fantastic and they are a really cool person!! (And so talented!!! Like holy s m o k e s)

Since the songs have annotations that don’t show up on mobile, I’ll put them under the cut! Hope you enjoy!!

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