#this has been living in my head rent free all afternoon lmao

[camelliagwerm]

You know about Morrigan and me?

#daedit #dragon age #dragon age origins #senior enchanter wynne #morrigan x warden #dao #*dao #harper.gif #pair: magni x morrigan #oc: magni #this has been living in my head rent free all afternoon lmao #userengferth #userophe #userzahrahydris #katewalker #aartyom #usermorvaris #arcandoria #usermactir #usereivorwolfsmal #userrivensbane

[yunhoszn]

(this is user sourkimchi pls don’t perceive me on main lmao)

i saw another user post this abt this hongjoong fit and it’s been living in my head rent free…

as a fellow asian rave bisexual.. i need a fic for this concept 🫣

(not so) alcohol-free

PAIRING kim hongjoong x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.46k

GENRES fluff?﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, clubbing scene, reader feels self conscious, mentions of alcohol, strangers to lovers?, ummmmm hardly any plot tbh half of the wc is porn, couch sex, little bit of foreplay (vaginal fingering), some marking here and there i think, cowgirl position, missionary, protected sex, allusions to multiple rounds of unprotected sex, not beta’d or proofread bc we rawdog this shit like men

SUMMARY notorious for canceling plans at the last minute, you finally let your friends drag you out for a night at the club. however, a chance encounter with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen has the night turning to something unexpected.

MORE AAAAAAND i finally finished my first request LOLLLLL here u go yves!! i kinda strayed away from the main idea bc i wanted to make it my own, but i hope this meets ur expectations <3

@atzhouse

You had a natural affinity for canceling plans at the last minute. You’re not sure why, especially because you always get an awful case of FOMO every time you do. It’s your own fault that you feel left out when your friends get together without you.

No matter how far in advance you plan for the event, you somehow still find a way to lose your motivation to go. You haven’t properly hung out with your friend group in months, so when they start talking about clubbing tonight, you immediately say yes. 

At first, you think you’ll change your mind an hour later, since it’s only an afternoon’s notice. But when you realize your friends will be here to pick you up in thirty minutes and you’re finishing your makeup, you nearly jump for joy. You successfully stuck it out for once. 

Even as you’re sandwiched between Wooyoung and Mingi in the backseat, San in the drivers’ seat and his girlfriend in the passenger, you’re still shocked that this is your reality. You’re actually dolled up and you’re actually on your way to a club right now. 

“Y/N, do you remember the signal if someone hits on me?”

“Wooyoung, no one’s hitting on you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mingi. It could happen.”

You snort, pulling your skirt down a little. “Woo, we should come up with a signal for if I get hit on.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s more likely to get laid than you are even though she’s bitchless, too.” Mingi nods, adjusting his sunglasses. (You have no idea why he’s wearing sunglasses at 10 PM.)

“Kill your—”

“We’re here!” San announces, effectively putting a pin in any argument that was about to begin. As long as your friendship with the males spanned, he’s always been the mediator. You’ve known the three of them dating all the way back to high school, lumped in the same homeroom your freshman year. The four of you sat in the same general vicinity and got grouped together for a project once and you’ve been inseparable ever since. 

You know you look hot, Wooyoung wolf-whistling at you the moment you started walking towards the car, but you still feel a bit insecure. It probably has everything to do with the fact that you don’t go out much and you’re self-conscious as is. Stepping into the crowded club, a scene that could only be compared to a sardine can, has you shrinking in on yourself. 

Instinctively, you tug on the hem of your skirt to attempt to cover your ass a little more. Then you wrap your arms around your midriff, though your cleavage leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. You swallow thickly as your trail behind your friends, like a lost puppy with its tail between its legs. 

This is why you always back out of plans. You feel so out of place, like you don’t fit in even when people try to include you. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, waiting for one wrong move so they can point and laugh like you were the butt of some sort of weird joke. You’re ready to go home. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi asks once you’ve settled at an empty high table just a few feet from the dance floor. Through his stupid sunglasses, you can make out the concern on his features. 

“Yeah, I think so,” your lips purse, arms hugging yourself tighter. “I just haven’t been out in so long. I feel… like I shouldn’t be here or something. I’ll be fine. I hope.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t ask any more questions, instead turning to San and his girlfriend who were about to make a trip to the bar. Your poison for the night is simple, a plain margarita that’ll ease your nerves more than anything else. You weren’t much of a beer person, often opting for fruitier, sweeter drinks in comparison to your male counterparts. (When you do go out with them, that is.)

Wooyoung and Mingi fall into a heated discussion about who knows what, leaving you to become a third wheel while you wait for the couple to come back with your drinks. You people-watch to pass the time, chewing on the inside of your lip, your eyes flitting around the club like some kind of guilty criminal. Almost immediately, they land on a guy in the middle of the dance floor. 

He’s hypnotizing, body fluidly moving to the song the DJ’s playing and matching the energy of his friend standing next to him, two girls in front of and facing them. His dark hair falls into his eyes slightly, though parted and styled damn near perfectly. He’s dressed in a black tweed jacket, a white button up left open enough to reveal a couple necklaces resting on his sternum, some ripped jeans, and black boots. But none of that is what caught your attention. 

You’re entranced by his smile, its brightness and how fucking pretty he looks wearing it. You caught the tail-end of something his friend said that made him laugh, and you feel yourself being pulled in deeper and deeper without a single conversation with him. Too bad he seems unavailable. 

“Woah, N/N, might wanna wipe your chin,” Wooyoung teases, a stupid smirk on his face that you want to punch away. “I think you’re drooling a little.”

Mingi howls with laughter, falling onto the table to support himself. He clutches at his stomach as it cramps up from how hard he’s laughing. It wasn’t even that funny. You roll your eyes. 

“Shut up, Wooyo.” 

“Who are you even staring at?” He inquires, resting his elbows on the high top surface, his chin placed on his hands. He blinks at you expectantly, like he’s not letting you off the hook. You avoid his gaze, simultaneously ensuring that you don’t look in the attractive stranger’s general direction either. This all felt so elementary. 

“None of your business.” You murmur, ducking your head. Thankfully, San and his girlfriend return to the table with your drinks perfectly timed, and the topic is dropped completely. 

The first sip of your margarita is damn near heavenly, the alcohol flowing through your system smoothly and calming that storm waging in your mind. It’s not too strong, just enough that another couple drinks would inebriate you entirely. It aids with the anxiety of being in such a packed space, but that feeling of not belonging still sits inside your chest. 

You can’t help but look for the stranger again, who’s no longer on the dance floor. Now he’s on the other side of the club at another high table. His friend is still with him, but the girls from before are nowhere to be found. You focus on his hands and the chunky rings on his fingers, the way he holds his beer bottle, the way his free hand runs through his hair. Your tongue twirls around the straw in your glass out of habit, enthralled by this man who has yet to give you the time of day. 

Except when you glance up to admire his face, you discover that he’s already looking back at you. He’s nodding along to his friend’s words, but his eyes are zeroed in on you, a different kind of smile playing on his lips. Your features fall slightly from being caught red handed, cheeks warming up significantly. You aren’t sure what’s more embarrassing, caught gawking at a stranger by your own friend or by the stranger himself. Truly, the universe was out to get you. 

You down the rest of your margarita and excuse yourself to go to the restroom, needing a second to gather your bearings. Your skin is flushed and you have to hold your cheeks between your palms as you psych yourself up in the mirror. Why should you feel ashamed of thinking someone’s hot? You were only human. Besides, you looked good, too. 

When you exit the restroom, you’re shocked to see the stranger walking out of the men’s restroom at the same time. Your eyes are wide and your body freezes. He gives you that smile from before, ruffling his hair as if this interaction wasn’t difficult enough. 

“I was hoping I’d bump into you,” he says, unabashedly drinking in your figure. “It’s not everyday someone as gorgeous as you crosses my path.”

So he’s a flirt. Noted. 

“I could say the same,” you manage to get out, though your palms are already clamming up. “If fleeting glances across a dance floor count as crossing paths.”

He laughs and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. A couple girls come into the hallway, and you maneuver so they can go into the women’s restroom. His hand comes to rest on your lower back when your balance wavers slightly. 

“I’m Hongjoong, by the way,” he introduces himself since he’s in such close proximity to you now. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, too distracted by how much prettier he is only inches away from you. “I’d like that.”

Hongjoong leads you to the bar, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He orders himself a beer and turns to you to ask what you’re having. While waiting for the bartender to whip up your drinks, he strikes up a conversation. 

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” 

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “Oh yeah, sorry… It’s Y/N.”

He repeats it, like he’s testing out the taste in his mouth. The smile that graces his features afterwards says all you need to know. It has butterflies flapping around rampantly in the pit of your stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He thanks the bartender seconds later when he slides your margarita and his beer bottle across the bar. 

“So, Y/N, what brings you out tonight?” He takes a swig from his bottle, one arm leaning onto the surface of the bar. God, the things you would do to him if given the chance…

“Catching up with my friends,” you answer honestly, baby-sipping your margarita through the straw. “I don’t really go out much, because I’m really bad when it comes to canceling plans at the last minute.”

“Should I consider myself lucky then?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, licking his lower lip. If men had anything, it was the audacity. And this man had the audacity to do everything in his power to lure you in with his good looks and charisma. 

“I’ll have you know that this is a one of a kind, once in a lifetime opportunity,” you play along, stirring the slowly-melting ice cubes around your glass. “You’re a very fortunate man.”

“Yeah?” He laughs again and you think you might faint right here and now. He looks off to the other side of the club and then back at you. “I think Prince Charming over there is looking for you.”

He points at the table where your friends are, and you find that Wooyoung is glancing around in search of something, or someone. Namely you. It’s most likely because you went to the restroom and then never returned. He’ll live. 

“Wooyoung? Nah, he’s just being a good friend. I raised him right,” you turn back to him, sipping at your drink leisurely. “Now where were we? Something about you being lucky?”

“Hwa, I’ll— shit— I’ll have to call you back,” Hongjoong forces out, promptly hanging up so he can focus on putting you in your place. You’re like a damn leech, lips attached to his neck, marking the supple skin like it was your job. Your hands paw at the button of his jeans, your lower half grinding down on his lap. “So fucking impatient. Can’t even wait until I’m off the phone?”

“Want you too bad, Joong,” you pout, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, his jacket lost somewhere near the front door. He groans when the nickname falls from your mouth. You had no idea how sexy you were.

The two of you were so insatiable, you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, collapsing on his couch. You hardly had the mind to message your friends to let them know your whereabouts. His hands hold your ass firmly, halting you from any further teasing. You whine, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Your nails drag down his toned abdomen, enjoying the way it tenses beneath your touch. After all he’s put you through tonight, you think you at least deserve a bit of payback. Just a bit. 

“Are you too antsy to make it through foreplay?” He coos and presses a quick kiss to your lips, trailing a few along your jawline. Your eyes flutter shut with a hum and a nod. It was true. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you feared you might go insane. 

“I need you inside me already,” you whine, trying to spread your legs and create more friction downstairs. He chuckles at how desperate you are, how touch starved you must be considering you don’t get out much. It fuels his pride knowing he’s the only one to see you like this, to have you like this, for the first time in who knows how long. If he’s successful, maybe he’ll be the only one ever. 

Hongjoong bunches your skirt around your waist, sneaking a hand between your bodies to rub tight, gentle circles into your clothed clit. A blissful sigh escapes you, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. The cocky smile you’ve grown to adore over the course of the night decorates his lips at how quickly he has you falling apart at his fingertips. 

His middle and ring digits push your underwear to the side, sliding down your slit to prod at your entrance. He nips at the base of your throat, working his way up to the spot behind your ear. Your sighs grow into whimpers, squirming around on his lap when he applies pressure to your cunt with the pad of his middle finger. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your skin, shivers running down your spine from the low register he uses. He circles his digit around your hole, not quite giving you what you need. “You weren’t kidding about how bad you wanted me.”

You’re about to quip back, but then he’s inserting a finger and rubbing your clit with his thumb. You gasp, biting down on his collarbone to ground yourself. As much as you would love to sit here and let him finger you until sunrise, you have bigger priorities. “Mmm, Joong, please… Fuck me, please…”

He kisses his teeth, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He supposes he can satiate your hunger, though he really wanted to take his time with you. “Do you think you can be still while I put the condom on?”

You pull back and nod enthusiastically, sitting on your haunches slightly, fingers locked behind his neck. “I’ll be so good, I promise. I just need you, like, now.”

All he can do is laugh, and you melt into a puddle in his arms. You’ve concluded that smile of his would quite honestly be the death of you. He removes his fingers from your pussy, instead squeezing your hip before helping you onto the couch cushion beside him. You rest on your knees as he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, swiftly grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and plucking a condom from it. In the same breath, he’s taking off his underwear and tugging you back on top of him. 

He places the foil packet between his teeth so he can quickly aid you in the discarding of your panties. Now that your cunt is bare, you can feel the heat of his cock and it’s so hypnotic. Your eyes can barely stay open as you watch him tear open the condom packet and roll it on. He’s the perfect thickness and the perfect length, and you feel so special straddling his lap right now. 

Hongjoong kisses you softly, gripping your waist so he can guide you to sit on his cock. The first breach of your entrance has a shaky exhale leaving your lips against his own. You stay like that for a second so you can adjust to the feel of him inside of you, the fullness in your lower half, and overall just how fucking good it feels. He grins when you slowly start bouncing up and down, his dick thrusting in and out under you. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” He pecks your cheek, moving downward and reaching behind your back to untie your halter top. It slips off of you with ease, revealing your tits to him. 

“So good, Joong… Feels so good,” you arch into him, whining and moaning every time he brushes that crook in your cunt that has you seeing stars. He peppers kisses all over your chest and sternum, scraping his teeth along the skin of your breast. You whimper, nails sinking into his back and your toes curling. You’re completely aware of what’s going on, but those two margaritas have to be contributing to the pleasure swirling in your abdomen. 

“Yeah? You’re taking me so fucking well,” His eyebrows knit together when you switch your pace, sitting on him fully and letting his cock fill you for a couple seconds. In reality, your knees were starting to ache and get tired, something he recognizes instantly because he was so attentive. 

His hand holds the small of your back and he flips you so you’re in missionary on the couch now without skipping a beat. The change in position allows for a change in angle, his dick dragging against your velvety walls deliciously. Your sounds grow in volume, scratching his back when he pushes one of your knees to your chest. 

You weren’t anticipating to end up here at the end of the night, but you don’t think you could dare complain. While a majority of this night felt like a fever dream, you feel a high that’s never taken over you before. 

Hongjoong’s hair falls into his eyes as he glances down at where your bodies meet, his cock disappearing inside of you and then sliding out with ease. You intertwine your fingers behind his head, pulling him down so you can connect your lips in a fervent, passionate kiss. That familiar summit is within view now, your hand nudging his own to your clit so you can inch closer towards it. 

His thumb swipes side to side on the sensitive bundle of nerves, never once breaking your kiss. There’s so much stimulation going on for you, you’re starting to feel dizzy. In a good way. He’s gentle in a way that’s still rough enough to knock the daylights out of you and the juxtaposition makes the moment all the more enjoyable. 

“‘M so close, Joong,” you arch off the sofa in an attempt to be closer to him, to sandwich yourself between him and the couch. 

His thrusts become faster and more calculated, but he doesn’t break the focus on your clit. His efforts come to fruition and he mumbles words of encouragement for you as you finally reach that boiling point. A strangled moan falls from your mouth and you spread your legs to suck him in further. 

The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls following your climax is almost too much for him and he has to pull out. Your eyes are half lidded, nimble fingers rolling off the condom. He fucks his fist until he’s painting the area between your tits with his cum.

The two of you don’t move right away, regaining your composure. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and then repeats the action all over your face until you’re a giggly mess. This is probably the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and part of you doesn’t want to go home— whether that be later or tomorrow morning. 

“Do you have the energy to go again, or should I go grab a warm washcloth to clean you up?” He raises an eyebrow at you, indicating that he’s just joking but he’s totally down if you are. You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. 

“If you give me a minute, I’m all set to do that again,” you start, resting your eyes for a second. “You don’t have to worry about a condom this time. I kinda wanna feel you raw.”

Hongjoong laughs in disbelief, glancing away from you and then letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “What have I gotten myself into…”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

#atzhouse #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #yunhoszn #📮 — reqs

[theold-ultraviolence]

alright, again here to share silly thoughts about museum curator! Aemond before I get them out.

(I also wish that you'll get soon to recharge and have fun and get a breather from all the anxiety and stress, as we totally deserve it!).

oh gods, the TIFF feel like... a dream! that's honestly so cool! like the height of my unpaid internships was being offered a coffee in the nicest bar of my city but that is... wonderful!

also I totally believe that Aemond would be like 'we can maybe grab a bite there if you are famished' after the tour (and your stomach grumbled at least ten times, because I don't know you but I have the classic anxiety stomachaches. the sexiest girls always have stomachaches and anxiety) and you are like 'this is... the exclusive... restaurant... you can't even get inside if you book it three months in advance... I...' and Aemond - rich bitch, 'my surname opens more doors than my face legs' - is like 'oh no, I think we shall be fine'.

(and you are. you get the table with the nicest view and you expect Aemond to be kind of... spoiled with the waiters but he is... nice. like he knows their names + he isn't patronizing. he is definitely like 'you should try this x or y'. (because he wants to enjoy it but also it's clearly a suggestion) also - personal indulgence - he is very concerned about whether you have allergies and if you do very serious with the waiters).

so, yeah... I totally can see it happening and I love the thought of him showing off (bestie, I have so many cute outfits/dresses I never get to show because 1) cold, 2) my friends are boring; so... I'd put up the whole nines for a chance to be the arm candy of the museum curator). but also, I do imagine him being all like 'they are my partner. and they work in [x field] and they have been so fundamental to help me develop [concept y] of the exhibition' and just being the little sapiosexual that he is low key in my mind!

also about him in casual attire, I have this head canon that I am going to push onto you, but I do imagine that he transferred in your city for work so he is new to everything aside the museum - where he spent most of this time - and you discover this and are like 'oh but you need to see this! and this! and this! and especially this cute park, ten minutes away from the museum and it's ADORABLE!' (I am a slut for cute parks and pic-nicks) and you set everything up for an afternoon there and obviously... it's casual attire because... it's a park and Aemond FaceTiming his sister or his mom in a three-piece jacket being like 'besties, how is this for casual attire?' and they are like 'are you going to a funeral in a park or a date...?' (they humble him very much).

so, he shows up in like dark jeans + a nice comfortable sweatshirt (and Adidas shoes, I... have issues as the fashion snob with the Adidas shoes at his premiere look, but... I can overlook everything for Ewan) (like bestie... if he had gone with all black Adidas, I'd be fine... BUT THE RED LINES, I...). and he seems a bit at unease but he is also so soft and you want to claim that sweatshirt (you end up doing so on the walk back home because you shiver a bit and he is like 'oh no... wait... let me set up the world on fire for you? oh? you just want my sweatshirt'). so, ahem... yeah, museum curator! Aemond has now a special place in my heart.

(also very random but whenever you mention movie projectionist! Aemond, I always imagine him as the mc from 'Cinema Paradiso'! and I can't wait to read the fic!)

-🌗

'the sexiest girls have stomachache' okay YES, 100%. BESTIE, seriously. I need to be in a zen-like state at all times because if I get too stressed, then we need to bring in the antiacids otherwise it's not gonna be fun lmao. But I digress...This scenario is literally the dream, friend. It's getting me through these hard times, seriously. Museum curator!Aemond now is living rent free in my mind and I love him.

"and Aemond - rich bitch, 'my surname opens more doors than my face legs'" that is actually super nice to waiters and overall a good patron, recommending all the good dishes for you and being interested in knowing what you'll like/can eat? What a king. AND SAME about the outfits!! I love buying clothes but because I don't go anywhere I have all these really nice and fancy things I'm saving for a metaphorical grand event that just never comes. A literal dream to be Aemond's arm candy at exhibitions and him being so happy and proud! Also one thing I hate when I'm with someone at some event, is when people come up to them and never acknowledge me. So, Aemond including you into the conversation and actually being like, "oh this detail? that was actually my partner's idea. Wasn't it, love?" and just letting you take over the conversation.

Loving the casual attire Aemond scenario and him fretting over what to wear to go to the park aaaah. And I feel like it'd be one of those things where, people who are usually more dressy look 10000% hotter when they're in casual wear and vice versa. And you'd be swooning when you see him looking all cozy in jeans and a sweatshirt. Even if he's in his casual wear, you just know those jeans and sweatshirt are very expensive and of high quality though, because that's just the kind of guy Aemond is. And when he lends you the sweatshirt at the end of the day you're a puddle because it smells absolutely heavenly. (lmao with the comment on Ewan's adidas shoes at the hotd premiere. Bestie I gotta agree lmao. Ewan Mitchell, the adidas obsessed man that you are. I think he looked super handsome and him in leather? UGHHH yes, but I did wish the jacket was of a different cut to compliment his form better).

Also, movie projectonist!Aemond is based on the projectionist from Pearl!! well, not 100% based on him because he was a bit of a perv. But I got the idea from that movie!

#🌗 #museum curator!Aemond #modern!aemond rambles

[duskholland]

this is so completely random and unprompted (sense the sarcasm as the tommy thighs live in my mind rent-free since the first pic of pants-less tom content) but would you please indulge me with a thigh riding blurb with some dom!tom vibes? maybe a bit of praise k*nk in there, too, if that floats your boat? soft!dom!tom...oui. anyways love u + thanks for letting me sin bye <3

his thighs... they’re just something else. i think i was possessed when i wrote this lmao. wc: 2k // 18+ content minors dni!!!!!!

extended warnings ↠ slight dom!tom + praise kink, thigh riding. tom holland’s thighs, because they deserve a warning of their own.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You’re bored.

Tom’s house out in Atlanta is huge, and when he’s not stowed away in the office doing online press, there’s never normally a dull moment. You usually find some way to entertain yourself, be that pestering your boyfriend for attention or filling your time with work. Just, it’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and Tom’s been away all day.  

After spending the morning catching up with friends and refreshing social media until you have the spinning reload sign flashing behind your eyes, you resort to texting Tom. Down in the office—or the press room, as he’s come to call it—his phone is on silent, so you don’t need to worry about interrupting something. He’s been trading selfies with you all day, providing small snapshots of his socks, his hair, his setup whenever he catches a break. The little teases have only made your yearning worse.

Y/N: when do you finish? Y/N: I’m bored and I miss you :(

You lay back on your bed as you wait on a response, chewing your lip slightly as your hands play with the sheets. Your expression darkens as you look to the side, seeing the throw pillows discarded on the floor and remembering intimate times gone by.

You’ve been in a mood all day, the space between your legs warm. Every time you get bored, your mind wanders, and you’ve been very bored today. The front of your panties feels damp, your body tortured by the memories of last night. It’s a never-ending montage of Tom’s hair brushing your neck, his lips on your breasts, his greedy hands grabbing at your waist. You almost moan as you remember how he’d held you down last night and made love to you until you’d cried, your skin slick with sweat and your mind gone too. He never fails to bring you to the heights of pleasure you’d never thought existed.

Tom: on a break just now if you want to come down Tom: think there’s ten minutes before the next one x

It doesn’t take long for you to get to the office, your feet moving of their own accord. When you open the door, Tom glances back, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

He looks good. Tom is handsome, and you always enjoy looking at him, but with his torso covered in a tight black shirt and blazer and his hair styled in loose waves on the top of his head, he looks incredibly dashing. He flashes you a mischievous smile as he reaches up to pull the AirPods from his ears, his Rolex glinting beneath the bright studio lights that illuminate his setup.

“Afternoon, darling,” he says. He turns in the chair, swinging an arm over the back of it as he watches you enter the room, closing the door behind you. “How are you?”

You bite your lip, shameless eyes skating over his form. Tom stands to greet you, and your eyes widen, falling to his bare legs. “Why are you half-naked?” you ask, the tip of your nose scrunching up as you chuckle. You meet him in the centre of the room, wrapping your arms around his warm torso before pulling him in for a light hug, being mindful of his pressed suit.

“Comfier,” he explains. “Too hot in all of that. Gets fucking boiling in here.” Tom’s hands smooth up to your hair, and he gently coaxes you from his chest, peering down at you with those brown eyes you love so much. “Gimme a kiss, lovie.”

Eager to feel him, you step closer and lean in, finding his lips in an easy kiss. The moment your mouth makes contact with the soft warmth of Tom’s pillowy lips, you feel yourself melt, the heat coming back to your core almost immediately. You reach up and drape your arms around his neck, getting in as close as you can as you part your lips, licking over his lower lip until he takes the bait and easily slips his tongue into your mouth.

Tom grunts when you play with the back of his hair, tugging on his strands as your tongues glide together. His hands are on your waist, and you find yourself moaning into his mouth when he slips his fingers beneath your shirt and lets them roam all over your figure. As he kisses you, his hands shift up your torso, lingering at your breasts and groping them eagerly.

“No bra?” he moans against you. You whimper as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, making him chuckle. “Fuck, love,” he murmurs, “eager today, aren’t you?”

You pull away from him, panting for breath. “Yeah,” you admit, not even trying to be coy about it. Time is of the essence, and you know exactly what you want. One of Tom’s warm hands skates down your figure, and your abdomen flexes as his fingers trail over your skin, his blunt fingernails lightly tickling your stomach as he travels to your cunt. “Tom,” you say, voice catching. “Please.”

He’s teasing you, eyes on your face as he slides his hand beneath your shorts and teases his fingers over the front of your panties. With a torturously light touch, he rolls his index finger over the front of your slit.

“God,” he murmurs, leaning in to roughly kiss your jaw. “You’re soaked.”

Your eyes threaten to roll back as he rubs you over the cotton, touch light but enough to bring you the smallest amount of pleasure. You grab at his firm bicep, a choked whine travelling up your throat.

“Tom.”

“Mmm? What do you want, darling? You know we don’t have much time.” Tom’s got a dark glint in his eyes, and it only deepens when he finally shifts your panties to the side and lets his fingers envelop your silky folds. You gasp when he dips his index and middle fingers down to your entrance, pushing into the warmth of your arousal before spreading it up to your bud. He’s quick to tease your clit, cooing softly as you struggle to speak. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I want to give you what you want, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what that is.”

“Fuck me,” you ask, voice catching as he speeds up his circles.

“No time, darling.” Tom frowns when he sees you pout, and with the hand not between your legs, he reaches up to play with your lower lip. After a moment’s contemplation, he slips his fingers into your mouth. You suck them in further, glad for their heavy presence weighing down your tongue and enjoying how their girth muffles your moans. “I have an idea. C’mere.”

Before you have time to complain, Tom has pulled away from you, leaving your aching cunt alone and your mouth empty. He walks to the green sofa in the back of the room and collapses onto it with ease, smirking up at you as he parts his legs. He looks wide and domineering, spread out, awaiting you, with his bare thighs rippling and on display. His muscles are clear and defined, packed tight in firm ridges against his golden skin. Just the sight of him patting one of them with his hand is enough to make you salivate.

“Ride it,” he encourages, beckoning you forth with a smirk. He tilts his watch towards his face, squinting as he stares at the metal. “You have three minutes to cum, or you’ll need to wait. I won’t be finished for another two hours.”

Eyes widening, you move over to him, pausing in front of your boyfriend to push down your shorts and your panties. Tom reaches out for you, his warm palms sinking into the curves of your hips as he helps you into his lap. He sits up against the sofa, reaching down to grab at your shirt as you work on straddling his thigh. You settle over his left leg, a loud moan trembling up your throat as you lower yourself and your slit presses against the firmness of his skin.

“Oh,” you moan, tossing your head back. Tom pulls your shirt over your head, his face dropping down until he’s able to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as you slowly grind down against his leg, his skin quickly getting coated in the arousal that covers your slit. Each time he nibbles your nipple, he follows up the action with a warm lap of his tongue, and the noises you elicit rise in pitch.

“Pretty girl,” Tom murmurs, leaving your chest and replacing his mouth with a hand. The other goes to your hip, and he helps you swirl your hips a little faster, his eyes almost black. “Look so fucking hot getting off on my leg, darling. So needy.” His accent is prominent as he watches you, smirking. “You’re my needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You fall forwards, panting into his neck as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Tom’s lips kiss the top of your head, grounding you as the pleasure starts to build. There’s an indescribable warmth spreading across your core, stemming from where your clit rubs up against his muscular thigh. The pleasurable burn of the friction makes you whimper.

“Yeah,” you pant, after taking a few moments to muster your breath. You gasp when Tom tenses his leg, his muscular thigh pressing up against you. “Fuck,” you whimper. “Feels so good, Tom. You’re so strong.”

He’s rolling both hands over your hips now, and one of them slips up to trace across your bare back. He holds you tightly to his chest, even as your breathing becomes irregular, continuing to guide your movements as you grow uneven. You can feel your orgasm twisting in the pit of your stomach, feel the temperature of your blood rising as it builds between your legs. With each grind of your wet cunt against his thigh, the pressure builds, every part of you aching for release.

“My darling girl,” Tom murmurs. “Are you going to make a mess all over my leg?” When you release a clouded moan, he chuckles. “I know you are. It’s okay. I can feel you squirming, baby. I know you can’t wait.” He drops his voice, rasping into your ear as you shake in his lap. “Go on, love. Be a good girl and let go. Get my thigh all wet. There you go.”

Your jaw slackens, and his words push you over the edge. You squirm over Tom’s sturdy thigh, glad for his strong hands on your hips as they guide your movements when you get lost in the pleasure. Your moans intersperse with his name, and you collapse against him as your high rolls across you, flooding you with intense, pulsing pleasure.

“There you go,” he murmurs, kissing over the side of your face until you eventually pry yourself away from him. Tom smiles at you, dragging his lips across your cheek to find your lips. It’s a sweeter kiss, and you pour in your gratitude. “Sweet girl.”

Your lips twitch into a smile as you look up at him, appreciating the lines of his handsome face and the adoration that sparkles in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say. “I—”

Both of you startle as a ringing sound cuts through the air, and you turn around to see the computer on the desk lighting up with an incoming call.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom mutters. He kisses you, briefly but with intention, then stumbles to his feet. “How do I look?”

You follow him to your feet, quickly pulling on your clothes before walking to him. “Perfect,” you say, once you’ve adjusted the collar of his suit jacket. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good luck, handsome.”

Tom nods, eyes skittering across your form. He shoots you a wink before falling back into the chair, looking over his shoulder at you as you walk towards the door. “Be ready for later,” he calls out. “I’m not done with you yet.”

#suffering #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #smut #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.filth

[kurinoot]

forgive me father, for I have sinned [part 1]

-> a priest by the day, a incubus by night. an unexpected, sacrilegious combination. who knew that one person of such sacrilege have their eyes on you?

pairing: meian x afab!reader

themes: smut, 18+ MDNI, sacrilege (especially at part two), incubus!meian, priest!meian, virgin!reader, noncon/dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, fingering, pet names (little lamb), mentions of corruption

wc: 1.8k [cross-post to ao3]

notes: hello hello! here’s my piece for the decadence open collab by @sugawara-sweetheart​ as well as for @chiwhorei​​!’s heavenly bodies collab! this idea has been living in my head rent-free lol for a while now after an entire discussion about this with @kinsurou​ in the hqhq basement and now felt like the perfect time to write this one! also, I divided this into 2 parts lmao and yes, thank you so much to @meiansmistress​, @vanille--kiss​, and @anime-nymph​ for beta-ing this baby! midas’ touch is real, babyyy

chants: the phantom of the opera - andrew lloyd webber

part 1 | part 2

The gentle wind is cool, nipping and kissing against your exposed skin despite the peaking sunlight straining through the afternoon clouds against your being.

It’s another usual Sunday for you, breathing in the crisp scent of dried leaves from the trees leading up to your destination as you walk all by yourself. Your hands toy with the pleats of your black knee-length skirt on the way to the nearest parish that you started attending  ever since you moved here. The small bag strapped to your shoulder threatens to slip down the more you play with your skirt, leaving you to play with your fingers in front of your chest instead.

Good thing I wore a thick blouse for today! you shudder with your thoughts, hugging yourself from the cool gusts of wind brushing against your skin as you hitch your bag back up your shoulder.

“Y/N! Good to see you attending Sunday mass as usual!”

“Father Meian! Yes, of course I wouldn’t miss it!” You beam as you undoubtedly shake the large palm in front of you.

Ever since you landed your dream job as a therapist at the nearby mental health clinic and moved out of your parents’ house, you have been  living on your own. Being the product of a strict Catholic upbringing, attending Sunday masses has never left your routine; it is already embedded in your weekly life.

The priest accompanies you inside, fully aware of the innocent hand on the back of your waist while he engages you with small talk, internally smirking with the filthiest of intentions.

She won’t know what’s coming...

You have been attending the Sunday masses for quite some time now, and you have been the apple of Father Shūgo Meian’s  eye for a while now too. He has always anticipated your weekly visits, and today was no different as he tries to let his fingers bury nicely into your warm, clothed back.

You met him a while back during one of the parish’s charity drives for the marginalized. You had taken it upon yourself to become more proactive, going as far as becoming one of the main managers of the drive. He knows and likes how dedicated you are in giving back to the community and ever since meeting you, he’s been nothing but a smitten man.

He makes sure to praise your warm heart and tenacity as much as he can, and such tender words make you flush as well as make your trust in the clergyman grow. Seeing him and talking with him always made you feel safe and welcome, and it's those feelings that keep you coming back with a smile every week.

You sigh in sluggishness, body aching from being out all day as you let yourself into the comfort of your apartment before closing and locking the door rather arbitrarily.

Being in the mental health field alone is taxing enough, hence why you don’t have any work on Sundays, but it wasn’t really in your plans to actually meet with your friends and stay out late on Sunday right after a church service.

“Good Lord, I really need some sleep tonight,” you shake your head in mixed utterance, slowly stripping off your clothes piece by piece and tossing them into the small laundry basket sitting half-full beside your bed. The pull of your panties and the unclasping of your bra leaves you breathing more deeply and freely, chest steadily rising and falling as you toss them into the growing heap of the laundry basket.

“Fucking finally,” you sigh in comfort as you plop yourself right onto the solace of your sheets and the fluff of your pillows, drowning yourself in the scent of fresh laundry. You let it wash over you to coax your body and your dulled senses to sleep.

If there’s one thing that Meian is pretty much confident in, it’s being able to climb towering buildings with ease and stealth. The slow deterioration of bricks on the walls, gritting with mold, is no match for his polished, retractable claws.

After all, he’s from the nether depths of damnation himself.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

Of course it’s nothing to him. Anything in this mundane world is nothing against the reins of divine or evil magic at the flick of his fingertips.

For sure, being the juicy morsel that caught his eye entails him knowing an eerie amount of things about you. For instance, he knows you work an 8 - 5 shift at the nearby mental health clinic, and how much you love your job no matter how much it takes a toll on your own mental health.

But he also knows the details no one else knows about.

He knows and indulges at the fact that you sleep fully naked—fully bare for him and only him without your knowledge.

Oh how shameful is it that not even your own friends know about it.

But he takes advantage of it nonetheless.

As he lands right outside your window, he peeks into the insides of your bedroom, clapping and lurching with despicable delight at the lack of curtains so he can fully feast on your naked, vulnerable figure snoring away, so unaware yet so beautiful. He licks his lips, wetting them at the sight of the peaking buds of your nipples. His thick, clunky fingers become restless in anticipation at the temptation to just break your windows and ravage your alluring nakedness.

With the swipe of black magic at his fingertips, he effortlessly unlocks your seemingly secure window. He swings it open firmly as he retreats his fluttering wingspan onto the broad plane of his back just so he can fit to enter into your humble abode.

As soon as he steps inside, he’s seething—seething and breath hitching at how your body’s all flushed from the humid heat of your bedroom. He loves the messy slew of your hair flowing like a confluence of rivers on your sheets while your limbs are unwittingly open as if they’re welcoming him.

As if you’re welcoming him.

His deft fingers twitch in utter temptation, the urge to wreck your virgin cunt that he's suppressed until now coming at him at full speed. Despite being a creature of inexplicable lust, the furthest thing Meian has ever done to you was occupy a small space in your mind, invading your once innocent thoughts with dark, decadent, vivid images of your pussy clenching around his girthy fingers.

“You look like an angel, my little lamb,” he muses with taunt and irony, stepping  in front of your wide legs. He undeniably licks his smirking lips at the sight of your pussy all ready for him to abuse with the power of his fingers. “Can’t wait to break this virgin cunt of yours and corrupt them, my little lamb”.

It feels so hot.

Your tummy feels unbelievably hot—scorching hot while you still try to process everything you’re currently feeling for the umpteenth time around. If it weren’t for the fire fueling in your loins, maybe a good night sleep would be in order.

You shudder in amalgamated pleasure and fear, processing the fact that it’s literally been days since you’ve been haunted by gushes and series of blazing hotness right in your lower belly, waking up the next day with wetness pooling and soaking your sheets wet. It’s not pee, you think, trying not to be disgusted because for sure, you know how to control your bladder. Nevertheless, you become increasingly exhausted at the now dreadful routine of changing the sheets every fucking morning.

You can't tell if it's just your dreams fooling you and becoming too vivid. Or maybe it's your own traitorous fingers, exploring on their own as you sleep, making your body know pleasure.

There’s no time or ability to think, something slender and long deftly entering the wet ring of muscle inside the growing warmth of your cunt. It undeniably stretches you—lips widening at the searing blaze of whatever it is that skillfully spreads your pussy apart, your head and eyes blurring and rolling back from the sheer pleasure.

“Oh… My God—” you mewl out in your head, words stuck at the tip of your tongue. Your limbs are beyond saving grace, too tired to even lift a finger. Your eyes succumb to the growing spots of darkness entering your vision and you finally sink back into the deep, dark waters of unconsciousness.

The demon before you on the other hand basks in corrupted glee, drenched fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your nose scrunch and brows narrow, drinking in the view of your closed, sleeping eyelids. He religiously massages the soft, sensitive spots in the warm, stretched muscle of your insides, watching you with a smirk as the staccato of your cries and moans leave your once virtuous lips.

“O-Oh God!” He hears you wail once his fingers run over  the sinful button of your bundle of nerves, flicking and flitting it as he awaits the explosion of your unreleased, pent-up pleasure. Meian’s torturous laughter turns into a righteous ear-to-ear smirk of victory as your stifled moans turn into a scream fest, your very first orgasm ripping and exploding right through you and dripping right down his fingers. As he watches your sleeping body shake and tremble at your intense climax, his deft fingers leave the sopping muscle and he licks them with the searing warmth of his tongue, tasting every drop of your essence weeping down off his fingers and licking them bone dry.

And all it took for him to slowly wrap you around his fingers and turn you into a hot, sobbing mess was only the girth of his fingers. What if it’s not just his fingers?

His eyes become dark, lidded with purely tainted intentions, pupils dilating at the sweet, pulse-inducing taste of your nectar. “Delectable.”

He massages the growing pulsating of his cock, hardening and straining against the strip of cloth barely hanging and covering his crotch while he gutturally groans in frustration.

Not tonight, he thinks with a plan in mind as a devious smile cracks through his sinful lips, there is a better time for this.

With a frustrated but smoldered anger, he looks at you delectable form one more time, licking his lips still slopped with your juices before he walks over and flies out of your window, with the flutter of his wingspan deliberately closing off your windows with adequate force.

Safe to say, you wake up the following morning, groaning at the sight of drenched sheets, frustrated with having to change the sheets once again. 

The groan grows louder when you notice the distilled state of your lady bits and the clear liquid trickling down from it. But this time, warmth and utter pleasure blooms right in your stomach as you caress it with the gentleness of your fingertips, a dazed expression on your face.

“It couldn’t have all been a dream…. Could it?”

taglist: @hqintheclub​ @meiansmistress @kinsurou @tetsv @rosesandtoshi @anime-nymph @hogwarts--imagines @semisgroupie @kurosukii @bunbyy​ @wisenerdcreator​

✖️ decadence mlist ✖️ heavenly bodies mlist ✖️ my potion rack mlist ✖️

#hqintheclub #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #sweetheart decadence #decadence collab #heavenly bodies collab #shugo meian #meian x reader #meian smut #priest!meian #incubus!meian #meian #msby meian #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #witchy.writes #tw // dubcon #tw // sacrilege #tw // religion

[sweetlavenderwritings]

bnha boys & what they’d probably smell like

A/N: been thinking about these for a while with no apparent reason, they just live rent free in my head lmao. (i promise im working on the requests, my attention span is turbulent at best and i cant focus on one thing for more than a couple of minutes im sorry)

Pairing/s: none

Word Count: 589

Tags: none 

⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒  

˚✩  Hitoshi Shinsou- mostly baby powder. i feel like he doesn’t bother with colognes, he just showers with nice smelling shower gels and apply baby powder because he sweats a lot. he seems the type to not have body odor, even on a hot day, he’d smell soft and nice. something that the 1-a girls liked to point out.

other than that, like his sleep deprived mentor, his breath smells like coffee most of the time since he drinks like 2-3 cups per day to keep himself awake. 

˚✩  Denki Kaminari- at first, he’d smell like heavy men’s cologne because he thinks it’s what the ladies like. after frequent bullying from the bakusquad (mostly from mina laughing at his notion on what women liked), mina invites the girls to go shopping with her and denki, just to help him what scent would suit him best.

the girls would debate over fruity scents, sniffing at bottles and spraying samples on their wrists to compare them. it was a fun experience for kaminari, even though they mostly made fun of him, they went out of their way to choose something that really suited his personality. is this what girls thought about most of the time? boys and what scents suited them best? Kaminari thought.

in the end, jirou picked out a citrus scent that the other girls agreed on. kaminari never bought a different scent ever since then.

˚✩ Bakugou Katsuki- this man doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks of him, but he’s certainly not a slob. when he sweats, the only thing you can distinguish from his natural scent of burnt caramel is his deodorant. he occasionally wears perfume (a gift from kirishima), but not much else.

he eats spicy food a lot but his breath would be minty since he brushes his teeth as if there’s no tomorrow. not to mention the aggressive way he does it.

˚✩ Kirishima Eijirou- this boys likes all things manly, but you’d be surprised when you take a whiff of his scent. he smells soft like dandelion. a mix of cut grass, creamy musk and yellow flowers. when somebody points it out he gets all defensive.

“but dandelions are manly!” he’d say. nobody believes this ruse and thinks he’s just a soft boy in general. his breath smells like ice cream during lunch rush since bakugou likes to eat dessert after his meals(a fact no one else knows but him) 

˚✩ Iida Tenya- crisp and neat, no doubt about it. he’s very meticulous about his appearance so he makes sure he doesn’t slip up with how he smells as well. he’s so minty fresh it’s kinda funny. his cologne is nothing too strong, just a simple musk that he sprays over himself each morning. 

like bakugou, he brushes his teeth after every meal. he’s very diligent about it too. 3x a day, morning, afternoon, then at night before he goes to sleep.

˚✩ Aoyama Yuga- do you even have to ask? he’s all flowers and shit. rose perfumes and other variant types of flower scents. it’s not those cheap ones either, he just has 10 bottles of expensive perfume sitting at his vanity mirror, he doesn’t have a certain schedule for each one though. he chooses what to use each morning depending on his mood; by that i mean different ranges of how sparkly he wants to be for the day.

breath smells like cheese. he nibbles on them when he’s bored and eats them religiously.

#they're so cute i couldn't resist #they live in my head rent free why do u think i do this #bnha #mha #shinsou #kaminari denki #bnha bakugou #kirishima #bnha headcanons

[utterlyinevitable]

2, 3, 11, 18 for the 40 Questions for Fic Writers (also, if these are too many, sorry!)

I’d answer the entire fic writer asks list if you sent it to me haha ♥

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Smut. Is smut a trope? 

All the scenes I want to write play out so well in my head but then I put it into text and it’s a CRINGE FEST 😫 

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

I mean.... probably not any body/gender swap ff tropes. Nor supernatural stuff. And absolutely nothing with horror/gore. I generally just write about things that happen in my life or those closest to me so there’s always a existential realism to my works (hopefully it comes across).

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a hobby I wish I could monetize. If I got paid to sit here and write my silly little stories all day I’d be living a great life 😌 

Thank you, Corona, for reminding me how much I love to write. 

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

No 😂 @withbeautyandrage​ tried to get me to do/use a character outline template once and I gave up after inputting their middle name lmao

Thesaurus.com is basically what I use religiously when I remember. 

I do outline my fics though. The first thing I always write is the rough dialogue and then piece the imagery around it.   

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Ohhhh I have so many alternate endings! Even when my fics are published they still live rent free in my mind and are editing themselves 😅 So I’ll just summarize the ones that definitely aren’t getting another part: 

If there was a Drunk Words Have Sober Consequences Part 3 or extended ending, Ethan would just say “Stop it” and Becca would challenge him with “Say it. You haven’t had any problems the last few weeks, what’s one more time.” The problem is he know this would be the very last time she’d let him this close. He wasn’t ready to lose her even before they’ve started. He’s silent and looking at her like a deer in headlights and she adds “I’ll make it easy for you” and starts to rip herself away. Just as he’s about to plead with her one last time and she’s about to turn away, June comes in; “Am I interrupting something?”. Ethan shoots Hirata daggers a snarl ready to erupt but Becca gets there first, “No. Just arguing about patients again” and leaves. (and patients is a play on words for patience bc that’s what they’re actually fighting about and becca has 0 patience left).

In Hopeless it ends up being Ethan who texted “come home with me” instead of Raf. She meets Ethan in the parking lot and they go back to his place. The whole travelling there bit is full of awkward silence. There’d be no conversation besides asking if she’d like a drink or needs to charge her phone. The most mechanical they’ve ever been. She’s still so emotional and regrets turning up at his office and almost getting caught by Harper. She knows this is a bad idea. So does he. But they don’t care. The warmth of their bodies together makes the entire world disappear. It’s irrational and neither are having any foresight about what’s going to happen next. They’re going to fuck the entire night, and then what? She gets a cab home in the wee hours of the morning, not staying the night ever again because he didn’t deserve her. 

In WIADTS after Stuck, Becca doesn’t stay in this alternate ending. They don’t make it to the weekend getaway. She’d checked out of their relationship hours ago and there’s no going back. She does this stealth mission a bit better with giving Ethan a false sense of security. He went to work earlier than she did and in those two hours she packed up everything and left to her friends’ place. She went to work and just avoided him. Avoided him as much as she could to avoid the inevitable fall out coming when he gets home and realizes she’s gone. That afternoon she started looking for other jobs across the country. Boston hurt too much. 

In happier events, Miles Apart! 

Even though they fell apart and she’s doing amazing across the country and she’s releasing her first book, they’re still on one anothers minds. That’s why she calls him.  Somewhere in this conversation she asks him to write the foreward of the book, he accepts with an “of course”; and then he tells her not to be a stranger next time she’s in Boston, and she tells him the same. Then Ethan lies and says he’ll be in California next month and if he could take her out to celebrate. “I’d like that.” The second they hang up Ethan pulls up his airline app and buys a ticket to California for next month. 

She sends him the address for a vintage coffeeshop that she loves and knows he’ll appreciate. She turns up 10 minutes early to settle in and running over just a few things she practiced saying to him in the mirror the last few days. She didn’t want anything to be too weird or anything to elude to their break up. She’s focused on moving forward. She’s grown a lot in the last year. 

But Ethan was already sitting there in the back corner staring out the window. 

Becca hung in the doorway and drank him in. needing a few moments to calm the butterflies raging in her stomach. She walked over slowly. As slowly as possible without being suspicious. 

Ethan sensed her. Her same old perfume hit his nostrils like a freight train with the first few steps she took, and he looked at her. 

They shared a weird greeting. Him getting up but neither moving to shake hands or hug. She took the seat across from him and ordered a coffee and asked how his flight was. Then immediately showed him the book when pleasantries drifted. She made a joke out of never getting his signature and as much as it pained him Ethan let out a small chuckle. Everything about her was still so endearing. 

That little joke broke whatever barrier was left between them. 

What was carved out to be an hour lunchbreak turned longer as time slipped away from them in their ease of conversation. So easily falling back into one another like the years apart meant nothing at all. 

Thank you for these 💕

#imagine the power i could wield in my own personal productivity if i could write smut... #my passion is sociology and business operations... makes me sound like a boring tool huh #a lot of my alternate endings are for the fatl universe #i just wanna give these babes all the chances to get back together😭😭😭 #the entire premise of What If universe is rewriting reality so every fic in that series has 2 alternate endings that'll be written #at some point #lmao just realizing my alternate endings all have the same theme of: strong female leaves waffling man who doesn't appreciate her #asked #alwaysmychoices

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 9

9. mutually assured destruction is a girl’s best friend

Chapter Summary: songs are written, loopholes are found, it’s the start of something.... yeah i don’t know what adjective to add. is it something good? bad? indescribable? only time will tell.

Warnings: drinking, posting at 6am so quality might be an issue lmao

Notes: a highkey vince/lola chapter but also soft nikki/lola moment

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @marvelismylifffe @lilytalebi@inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites@calspixie @aryssav @catsoo12 @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent@shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22 @keepcalm-and-beyou@scarecrowmax

{masterlist}

Nikki's already got a setlist's worth of songs half-written before he'd even met Tommy, so in the weeks between the band's formation and their first proper gig, it's not hard to put their sound together. Lola moves in and out of the band's space with a practiced ease, becoming a fixture at rehearsals, that is, when she's not at work, or at the gym, or a gig. Sometimes if she's working the Whiskey, they'll join her after practice, or in a break if they're bored enough.

She knows their songs well enough to hum along in the shower, knows enough about music to form an opinion about the bands she hears at the Whiskey.

Lola's really come to enjoy the nights when the band visits her while she's roadie-ing for another band, if only because she revels in the vaguely jealous, side-eye glances girls in the bar will give her, and because she'll get her job done while the band talks amongst themselves around her; it's not technically gossip, but she quietly enjoys being privy to little band secrets.

And she enjoys spilling those secrets the moment the information becomes pertinent.

"Fuck, they're awful;" Tommy's lip is curled in disgust, watching in horror as the stiff and bright synthpop band end one middling song and start up another, barely interacting with the crowd, or even acknowledging them, focused more on their instruments than their stage presence. The music was nothing to write home about it, but the crowd seemed to like them well enough.

"Yeah but they're making bank," Lola's not even watching the band, instead gazing idly at the crowd with mild interest. Her gin and tonic is stronger than it probably should be, but that's just a perk of being friends with the bartender, "they're in talks with a label from Seattle, ain't that right?" She grins at the bartender behind the bar, who's drying a glass and looking a little uncomfortable being brought into the conversation. He confirms as much, though he doesn't know about the Seattle bit is true, says there's even a scout for the label there tonight. That gets their attention.

Bit by bit, the band, along with other folks who frequented bars around town, come to recognise Lola as a woman in the know around The Strip. She knows who's playing where, where after parties are being held, and who's going, but most importantly, at least to Nikki, who even now has his sights set high, who's getting deals.

He always grumbles after she tells him, because there's been such a push for synthpop on the radio and he's sick of it. Complains that it's not real music. Asks her why she even works with them when he knows she hates their music as much as he does. Fixing him with her sweetest, most harmless smile, Lola shrugs, and puts on her best valley girl accent, because she knows how much it annoys him.

"Well when I'm with the band I drink for free," she fake giggles a little, "and I'm also the only one in this house paying rent, so, like... I'll take whatever fucking jobs I can get." She fixes him with a pointed stare, smile turning a little poisonous. Nikki rolls his eyes. Honestly, Lola doesn't actually begrudge him that much; the place isn't that expensive, it's barely habitable as it is, and work keeps her busy; her day job sees her as the manager of the shitty hotel she'd started working at all those years ago, and moonlighting as a roadie has more benefits than detractors, easily.

But she likes the nights during the week where she doesn't have to work, doesn't have to go anywhere or do anything, but the band has practice. From the moment she met him, she knew Nikki was the sort of person to have good taste in music, and thankfully that extended to the stuff he wrote.

He seems to always be muttering lyrics to himself, hunched over his notebook, plucking out bass lines in the middle of the afternoon, always working on the next song. He doesn't talk about what they're about or who they're for, not a lot. Some are pretty self evident; Live Wire and Take Me To The Top weren't exactly too hard to decipher, but then she hears him tentatively singing the lyrics to Starry Eyes, to a melody he's trying out, and it hits her square in the chest.

"What's that one about?" She asks, sprawling out on the sofa after getting home from the gym, picking up the notebook from the table that he was frowning at as he picked out a riff on his bass.

"I - it just came to me," he sounds focused, a little far away, but he won't meet her eyes. She puts the book back down, doesn't push the subject and mostly believes him, and lays back to take a nap, listening as Nikki figures out how he wants the song to go.

But when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars out the window that night that felt like years ago, when it's really only months, she sees the way smoke hung in the air as Nikki passed her a the cigarette he'd lit a few moments before.

"Where do you even wanna go, Lo?" He asks, an arm around her, taking the cigarette back from her as she considers his words, holds the smoke in her lungs, frowning.

"Whaddya mean?" She asks in a rush, breathing the smoke out and shifting against him, moving so she could rest her chin on his chest, resting her arm over his stomach.

"Like- what do you want to do? You don't wanna be a roadie forever, you gonna join a band? Be a dancer or something? Get a shitty little desk job? Do you think about the future or any shit like that?" When he looks at her, sure his eyes are a little glassy, they're both sort of out of it, but no more than any other night, but he's tapping out a rhythm on her hip and Lola presses a smile against his chest at the question, dropping her gaze.

"'course I do," she half laughs, "dude, I'm having the time of my life, shit can only go up from here; just gotta pick the right band at the right time and I could go anywhere I wanted." And then she's looking at him again, something soft in her eyes that Nikki doesn't want to think about too hard. She gives him a squeeze, a cheeky smile. "That's why I picked you."

"London's fucking falling apart," Nikki dismisses, leaning his head back against the headboard, grimacing before taking another drag.

"I didn't say I picked London," Lola rests her cheek against his chest, following the statement with a yawn, "I mean, at least until something better comes along," and it's mostly a joke, but Nikki can't help but scoff.

"Yeah right," he mutters, "nice to know you're just using me for a free ride when I make it big." His heart's not in it, and she can hear the amused smile in his voice despite his words.

"I'm also using you for your body," shooting for nonchalant in order to really sell the bit, there's only a beat before they both start laughing, loud and bright and unselfconcious. Lola's giggling through half-hearted apologies, propping herself up on her elbow, but Nikki likes having her close, likes her skin against his, and pulls her on top of him, kissing her to quiet her unneeded apologies. When he pulls back, she's still laughing a little, and he presses the cigarette gently to her lips, holding it as she breathes in. It's surprisingly intimate, and he stubs out the cigarette on the ash tray by the bedside table.

Tipping her head back, she watches the smoke hang in the air, threading her fingers through Nikki's hair as he presses his lips to her collar, and the memory fades to darkness.

And when she wakes up later that night, she wonders if he thinks of that night, or if he can remember it.

Then she wonders when Tommy arrived, since he's sitting in the armchair holding a steady conversation with Nikki, who's in the kitchen, the both of them drinking beers.

"How long have you been here?" She grumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes to partially hide her grin at the way Tommy jumped in the chair.

"Fuck, dude, when did you wake up?" He asks, eyes wide. Lola yawns.

"Now; seriously, why didn't anyone wake me?"

"I dunno man, you live here I figured you can sleep wherever you want and it's not really any of my business." Tommy shrugs helplessly, and takes a swig from his beer. Lola lets out a low hum and looks around the room, propping herself up a little, frowning. The notebook on the table is sitting open to a set of chords for Too Fast For Love. Huh.

After she starts making conversation with Tommy, she doesn't even remember what she'd been thinking about before her nap. He never outright says he wrote anything for her, but she has her suspicions. Though half the time Nikki's insistent that he didn't write about anything or anyone specific, but Lola still smirks like she doesn't believe him, press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth as he frowns and doubles down on his argument despite the fact she hadn't said anything.

She likes getting him riled up, flustered, though she still hasn't been able to tell him that she's slept with Vince. It's not that she's worried about what he'll do; he can't kick her out since he doesn't pay rent, and it's probably not the catalyst for a fight that would ruin their entire friendship. No, her fear lies in the fact that he's so damn excited about this band and she doesn't want to potentially ruin it before it even gets out of the starting gate.

Except that it's also sort of none of his business?

He's not the dictator of who she can and cannot sleep with, and technically - technically, she reasons - she only promised not to sleep with Tommy. Which she hasn't. Actually, she's started forming fast friendships with the band; Tommy's the easiest, much to her surprise he's bringing out mannerisms in her that she thought had died when she left home the first time; mentions of life behind a white picket fence that have her nostalgic and a little bit aching in equal measures. It's easy to be open around him, it's easy to be honest, and to smile like nothing bad had ever happened to her.

Where Nikki thinks life is a war, to be actively fought, Tommy seems to think life is a rollercoaster, and that he's just along for the ride. Part of Lola wishes she could be that blase about the world.

But then there's Mick, world weary and also just plain weary; he's known 'girls like Lola' and seems to want very little to do with her when he first meets her.

"The fuck does that mean?" She's already defensive, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside Tommy where they'd been figuring out the name of the band. Mick takes a long sip of his beer, casting his glowering gaze around the others. Nikki's the only one who's really paying attention, smirking and amused, while Tommy's drawing something in his notebook and Vince seems to have zoned out.

"You know exactly what I mean, girlie." Is all he says. Nikki stifles a laugh.

"Oh piss off, geezer," she snaps, and storms off to the bedroom, throwing - "and fuck you too, Sixx," over her shoulder as Nikki can't hold in his laughter anymore.

Mick asks if she's always going to be around, and Nikki's smile edges from amused to fond as he says that she's going to be their roadie. Mick sighs very deeply. He does, however, form a grudging respect for her once the band stops by early to see her at work, for everyone's benefit but Nikki, who'd seen her at work many times. She's ruthlessly efficient and follows directions well; Mick has much less of a problem with her after that, and at Nikki and Tommy's behest, Lola's kind to him in return.

And, well, things with Vince start innocent. Sort of. He's so easy to befriend, loud and bright, such a natural performer, entertainer, a social butterfly. But it's like he's trying to get her to like him, gives her offhanded compliments, something about her earrings, or her jacket, maybe her boots, perfectly fine and innocent, but Lola knows. It's there in his grin after she does a goofy pose to show off whatever he's drawn attention to, there in his pleased little smile after she pays him a compliment of her own. They trade teasing remarks until the teasing becomes flirting, well, flirting with an edge; Lola doesn't seem to do things without an edge much anymore.

And that suited Vince just fine.

It only takes a week and a half for him to realise that there was nothing formal, nothing relationship-esque between Lola and Nikki, and she's a damn breath of fresh air compared to Beth. And so when the band goes to scout out the competition, the bands that Lola roadies for, he knows a few things are guaranteed. Mick claims to have no interest and finds the darkest corner to haunt, Nikki is almost always glowering at the band, seeing as how they're almost universally not his style, and therefore terrible in his eyes, and Tommy's watching the girls in the mosh, and drinks until he's pretty sure he won't feel it if he gets slapped, before ditching the band for whatever pretty girl will agree to fuck him in the bathroom. Vince would probably join him on any other night, or be with Beth, but he likes this game of whatever it is they're playing.

He's still not quite sure of the nature of her relationship with Nikki, judging by how discrete she keeps things, but it seems to be something she's good at, and honestly, Vince won't complain. So he's got his hand on her thigh, and she's playing devil's advocate for the band that Nikki's glaring at, though the bassist is too revolted to argue back, so it falls on Vince to try and defend his bandmate's stance. Nikki joins Mick after about fifteen minutes, only staying to humour Tommy.

"You only hate them because you know you'd look better than they do in the same clothes," Lola's smile is all teeth, sharp and amused, and Vince scoffs, though he's smiling at the slight compliment, his thumb rubbing soft circles against her thigh; it's the third time they've come by, and Vince is pretty sure it's just an excuse to drink at somewhere that's not the grubby little flat. Usually she'd be in jeans, but it was close to the middle of summer, and she'd forgone the jeans for a skirt, and it felt like there was something different about tonight even beyond that.

"No shit, I absolutely would, but there's no way I'd be caught dead in that-"

"That's rich," she turns sharply on the barstool to face him, and he was close enough that now he's standing practically between her legs, "given some of the costumes you lot have come up with," and there's no malice, nothing but a teasing edge to her words, leaning one elbow on the bartop.

"We look like rockstars, like real rockstars;" he's got both his hands on her thighs now, and Lola looks like she's biting back a laugh at his rather genuine indignance, "they look like Jackson Pollock's neon nightmare." He watches her for a reaction, but the reference passes right over her head, brow furrowing a little in confusion, "they look awful." He clarified, leaning in a little, "and babe, they sound it too." His voice is low, obviously feeling bold as his nails graze higher until he's brushing at the hem of her skirt and that's enough to bring Lola back into the conversation, in a manner of speaking.

Looking over her shoulder, Lola's eyes are quick to spot Nikki heading from the bar, tailed by a weary looking Mick, and when she looks back, her smile is dangerous.

"We've probably got about ten minutes before he stops ranting to Mick and realises he's left you and Tommy behind, and that he can't finish practice without you," she says, with the air of someone who's been through this far too often. Vince's brow creases, and he leans back a little.

"Are you guys together?" He asks, not necessarily antsy, just curious. Lola rolls her eyes, and already that's answer enough.

"We fuck but there's nothing romantic about it," she snorts, though she avoids his gaze; it's the first time she's admitted it out loud to anyone, really, "I just promised not to fuck around with his band again." She chuckles, before her eyes meet his, like she's challenging him, like she's daring him to call out her history. Instead, he steps into her space, smirking, a hand holding her jaw.

"He's gonna have to deal with it, because the band's gonna be great; and this?" He's surprisingly gentle when he kisses her, tasting like beer and smelling like hairspray and she's got her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, "this isn't any of his damn business."

Ten minutes isn't a lot of time for anything, but it's enough time for Lola to locate the side door of the pub and to get on her knees in the breezy summer air with Vince's hands fisted in her hair. She makes herself scarce once he's come and Nikki's looking for the two member of the group he'd left behind; she's too giddy to not look guilty.

When she comes home at the end of the night, well past midnight, Mick's gone home and the other three are laying about, drinking and deciding on whether or not to see if someone better was playing further along The Strip.

"No afterparty tonight?" Nikki asks, and Lola gives him a little, subdued smile, leaning against the back of the armchair where Vince was slouched, though she's pointedly not looking at him.

"Nope, I'm calling it early; they had four quad boxes and no damn upper body strength between them."

Both Nikki and Tommy booed as a show of support, and Vince joins in with them as they're calling the band a string of probably unwarranted insults, and Lola laughs, soft and actually a little endeared, heading to the bathroom to wipe of her makeup.

"Fuck, alright whatever, I'm gonna call it a night too, see you guys at practice," Nikki stands and stretches, nodding to the other two. Vince hums something about calling Beth from the payphone to pick him up, and Tommy asks for a ride home, and they're vacating not long after, calling out goodbyes to both Nikki and Lola.

Things don't feel much different the next day. She and Vince share an amused little smile as she shuffles about the apartment half-asleep when the guys arrive for rehearsal. She's wearing one of Nikki's shirts that shows off a dark hickey on her collar that hadn't been there yesterday, and Nikki's got a matching one on his hip that Vince only spots when he reaches for a beer in the cabinet over the sink - the kitchen layout continues to baffle everyone but Nikki and Lola - and his shirt comes up enough to expose it.

Vince thinks he's coming to realise what Mick means when he says 'girls like Lola', but, honestly, he can't for the life of him figure out why that's a bad thing.

#nikki sixx #vince neil #the dirt #the dirt imagine #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x oc #nikki x lola #vince neil imagine #vince neil x oc #tommy lee #mick mars #motley crue #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes

[honeymoonjin]

domestica - yoongi x reader

A/N: a request from my main hoe @but-kimnamjoonpersona​ who is really Going Thru It with yoongi right now. Yoongi just really really loves you, there’s not really any plot lmao. 1k.

Days like this simultaneously went on forever but never long enough. You had taken your annual leave around the same time promotions for BTS’s new album came to an end, and for just over a week now you and your boyfriend Yoongi had been in this sluggish, romantic haze.

Just like that time between Christmas and New Year’s where you don’t know what day it is and nothing feels real, the two of you had rented a holiday home in the countryside, where no person or thing could bother you. It was like a break from reality itself, and it had reminded you just how much you had missed him.

So far, you had spent your days taking walks around the private reserve, picking peaches off trees and having languid sex on the grass, talking about any and every random topic that didn’t include work, sharing baths so hot that once you got out you both collapsed on the bed for a sweaty nap, only to wake up and have a cool shower.

Yesterday afternoon, you had tried to help Yoongi lift an old upright piano into the living room and pulled something in your back, and it was starting to ache today, so you were currently on your stomach, head in Yoongi’s lap as he eased the knots in the muscles of your back with one hand and fiddled with your hair lazily with the other. He was telling you about an idea for a piece he had, and although you promised not to talk shop on your vacation, you weren’t about to tell him to stop.

“…the chords so that it sounds a little more, uh, dreamy, you know? I was listening to Jamais Vu again the other day, and I think it really calls for a second part. The other side of the coin. A happier one. The same mood but with a happier story. I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot since we got here.”

You shuffle yourself a bit so that your arm is tucked between his legs and your head, relaxing at the feeling of his nails grazing your scalp just slightly as he absentmindedly tugs on your roots a little bit. “That sounds amazing, baby. Mm, my amazingly talented boyfriend.”

He laughs out his nose, swapping out the massaging of your back with his fingertips for rubbing it with an open palm. You arch your back underneath him happily. “Don’t speak too soon. It might be terrible. Probably won’t even make it on the album.”

You can picture the critical expression on his face right now, so you reach up blindly with your free arm, knocking him accidentally on the nose before resting it on his cheek. “Baby, I know that sometimes you don’t feel like you’re doing enough, or that you’re not good enough, but I need you to know that even when you don’t believe in yourself, I believe in you enough for the both of us, okay?”

You keep your hand there, thumb rubbing softly against the skin, as he goes silent. You figure he’s just lost in thought like he so often is, until you feel something wet fall beneath your thumb. You sit up hurriedly, ignoring the twinge in your back. His eyes aren’t yet red, but they’re glassy and tears are spilling over, striking his cheek and splashing on his now-unoccupied hands.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong?” He shakes his head silently, but you sit on his lap, a leg on either side, and hold his face gently but firmly between your hands so that he has no choice but to look you in the eye. “Tell me, baby.”

He scrunches up his nose and glances up to the ceiling, blinking harshly. You know, even after all this time, he struggles showing others his vulnerability. “It’s nothing bad, my love. I just can’t believe I have someone like you.”

“What do you mean?” you question softly, wiping away the wetness under his eyes.

“So perfect,” he snuffles out with a wet chuckle. “They’re happy tears, I promise. Sorry, I just got a bit overwhelmed there.”

You shake your head and reach up to card your hand soothingly through his hair. He tilts back into your touch, eyes falling shut with a sheepish smile on his face. “Don’t apologize, baby. If it makes you feel any better, I cry happy tears at every single show.”

He sniffs loudly, clearing his throat so that his voice is a little less shaky. “R-really?”

“Yeah, really,” you confirm, planting a soft kiss on his unsuspecting lips. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you might not understand that it was from happiness, but every time I see you up there, and I watch your flawless performances… the raps you wrote, the words you have for the fans, the dances you work so hard on… every time I see that and I hear ARMY scream your name, I cry. I fucking bawl my eyes out, because I’m so goddamn proud of you, and so in love with you that I feel like I’m about to burst. And every time I go backstage and wait for you, I think about how I’m the luckiest person in the world, because you’re by my side.”

“Of course you’re the luckiest person,” he teases, cracking open one eye and giving you a catlike grin. “You’ve got three boyfriends; Suga, Agust D, and Min Yoongi. That’s a pretty good fucking deal.”

You fake-glare at him and pretend to punch him on the jaw. He plays along and jerks his head to the side. “You’ve been hanging out with Jin too much.”

“And you’ve been hanging out with ARMY too much,” he counters, “crying at every concert like a cute little fangirl. Unbelievable.” He opens his other eye, fixing you with a stern look. “I better be your bias.”

“Don’t worry, you big softie, I only have eyes for you.”

He hums in content, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hand sliding up to rest on the back of your neck. “Ditto.”

“Hey,” you exclaim in outrage as Yoongi muffles your words with his unrelenting lips, “you could’ve at least said it back! Ditto, my ass.”

“I could ditto your ass if you wanted me to,” he offers suggestively.

“Damn it,” you groan, “and you’ve been hanging out with Jungkook too much. I don’t even know what that means.”

#yoongi fluff #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #bts oneshot

[chosebravery]

me, late? you can (troy bolton vc) bet on it!!!!11!1

good morning / afternoon / evening, my children. my name is tea (or t, or anything you want; s/h pronouns) and i have been struggling with a flu for over a week now and things,,,have been difficult but i'm going to power through because i already adore this rp (the writers in here are no joke???) and i ought to present yall my daughter. i will babble a lil about her under the cut and if you want me to reach you out, like this post!!

 * △ — the dark lord has targeted [ ELIZABETH ROSIER NEE HEPBURN ] !  the muggles say she holds resemblance to [ ALICIA VIKANDER ]. the [ TWENTY EIGHT ] year old [ female ] was [ WARM & HELPFUL ] before the war, but have now become [ STUBBORN & SELF RIGHTEOUS ]. though they were once a part of [ GRYFFINDOR ], they have now taken up the position of a [ HEALER ]. whispers throughout the ministry claim that the [ MUGGLEBORN ] is actually [ AN ORDER MEMBER ], but i wouldn’t report that to the daily prophet.

the only child out of a quite unlucky couple, elizabeth was born in a household where people made gold out of grass. her parents were poor and unfortunate, but they loved each other--her father still claims so, even after her mother's passing when the girl was just three. mr. hepburn's optimism was what supported them--that and his gig at a pawn/repair shop at linlithgow; while he went on that and any part times he could find to keep up rent and put his daughter through school, said girl would be at home, holding onto what needed to hold and distracting herself with tales of other worlds.

as the daughter of an immigrant and an outsider, elizabeth grew to be peculiar, standing out from the rest of the people in the small town she came to live on after her mother’s passing. on the mid fifties, on a scottish town where nothing happened, people didn’t take very kindly to strangers disrupting their routine, but it was where elizabeth was to grow nevertheless; with a few years, name calling was something she learned to become unfazed by. despite however isolated and shunned she was then, she never imagined the magic of her books could become reality--the butterflies in her stomach were both of excitement and nervousness, a mix of feelings she would come to feel many times over the rest of her life. for good or bad, she was different (and this, too, would follow her for the rest of her life).

when her letter came, what she assumed to be a well conceited prank turned out to be her new astonishing reality. as she went through a wall and boarded a train, she was both terrified and amazed.

soft spoken, quiet and isolated, with a preference for long books and a tendence for distraction, elizabeth hepburn was hardly the model person for a gryffindor--she didn't think of herself courageous when the hat was placed on her head either, but there are all kinds of courage in this world, she was told. in the seven years to follow she had never watched injustice go free, nor she backed out when someone (anyone) needed her; beneath honey and unfailing kindness, in moments necessary, her voice was like thunder and her will unbreakable.

of course, sometimes it wavered--many were the times she almost gave up the wonderful magical castle when she thought of her father, all alone. he has refused this many times: she was meant for something more than a small town with ordinary people who did not appreciate her, mr. hepburn would tell her.

those years away at hogwarts installed a tradition of very long letters, written at least twice by week--flowery, extensive and very descriptive, they are still kept to this day by the old hepburn, and its sight is enough to make the daughter blush and smile sheepish. she is a sight when excited, all who know her know her passion.

her career in “wizard medicine” was a suggestion by a professor, who was aware of her excelling in herbology and potions, and her people skills (ironically, since she, then, was not the most social kid & her willingness to socialize and reach out was belated). despite over ten years working on st mungo, she still aspires for something more; her husband & her shares a dream to open a book shop of their own, but due to more pressing events, it keeps being pushed forward.

she married domitius on the spring of 72, about 26 months after they bonded while she nursed him back to health. her interest in men -- or relationships in general -- had been nonexistent until then, so it was a surprise not only for his prejudiced pureblooded family but also for those who knew elizabeth. regardless, she claims he is first her best friend, her soulmate, then her husband--he is also father of her children: five year old twins daniel and isolde & little cosette, not much older than a year old. if you catch fictional characters names in there, you’re spot on (she is a nerd even as a mom, yes--fitting too, as her own name had come from the iconic austen heroine).

currently she works at the janus thickey ward as its healer in charge, although her presence is often required on the dai llewellyn ward due to her experience with some incidents’ injuries; it’s not uncommon to see her reading the newspapers, books and letters to the patients.

however, it has been over a year since she last stepped on st mungo. her youngest child was born on early 1978, so elizabeth has been on maternity leave since then; as much as she loves her children (and she does, overwhelmingly so), the life of a stay at home mother does not agree with her anxiety so she is very eager to return to her routine, even if it means she has to stay away from her children for more than she wished she would--she takes as advantage her father is so good with them, and always willing to crash in their spare bedroom.

she is virtually incapable of staying still--if not with her nose in a book, it’s likely she is walking around, doing whatever needs to be done around wherever she is (and this does not only apply to her own house, much to her friend’s dismay). her nervous tics include tapping her fingers, tucking her hair behind her ears and biting her lips; fiddling with her clothes and her wand also apply so it’s not uncommon she is keen to hold people’s hands to prevent the anxiety to be too transparent.

elizabeth’s ethical code is incorruptible, which is one of the main causes for any friction she may create with others--another would be her inability to stay still in face of wrongdoing; blindly, she will not admit she is a bit of a nosy judgmental holier-than-thou. thankfully (debatable for some), all that makes her just right to fight for the order.

elizabeth has an intimate knowledge of muggle mechanics, due to her father’s main line of work during her childhood years; even now, when she has lived most of her life in the wizard world, she is still curious and eager to learn and be connected with the muggle world and often finds herself doing things the muggle way.

EXTRAS (ish):

she is a saggitarius!! which is not what people first think of her, but elizabeth is just like um don’t judge a book by its cover ok. but i don’t blame people who take her as a virgo because ya know, girl is kinda....very virgo lmao (it is her ascendant anyways shhh). she was also born on 1950, which makes her a grandma tiger; she graduated hogwarts on 1968 (i don’t think there’s anyone who could have been classmates w her but,,,i’d die for this so pls bring me more old people!!!)

her wand is made of laurel wood & phoenix feather; it is quite bendy and is 10 3/4 in size. overall, i found it all very fitting!! laurel wands are said unable to perform a dishonorable act, and it does not accept lazy owners, who are often on a quest for glory -- it combines rather well with the flexibility, fitting for a woman who can not stand still / doing nothing / saying nothing for more than ten minutes.

her patronus is a weasel! people with this patronus tend to be ruled by instincts and very intuitive, and to be polite, honest and hardworking. (source)

her amortentia’s scents are old manuscripts (she is passionate about books, but she adores old editions because of how personal they are), fresh ink (she is often writing something, and always carries both quills and muggle pens with herself), the first batch of bread of the day (she just,,,loves bread. it is a very nostalgic scent for her, remeting from her childhood), geer oil (her father is a mechanic, and often she helped him), chamomile (known for its calming effects, the rosier plants chamomile in their garden & it is elizabeth’s husband to go choice of tea).

talking about scents, homegirl often smells of herbs. her husband keeps telling her she smells so good and like, yeah, he is cheesy as hell, but i’m pretty sure she does smell like heaven.

also about scents: she hates coffee and is the founder of coffee sucks society ™ . expect dissertations about this on my writing.

pretty much all else i can say / know about her are on the many profiles i’ve sent on my app. you can find them here if you don’t mind the length ( 1, 2, 3, 4) & her aesthetics here + a weheartit collection (aint nobody got time for that other site) here.

#noc.intro #other people: flawlessly whips out lovely intros On Time #me: this garbage after 4(?) days like nbd #and proud let me just tell you lmao #i gotta get to work but i'll be doing ims whenever i have some free time!!!! #don't let this flop yall

[bubltae]

can we see a kids day? (prodigy au) like where onkey are super busy with work so jonghyun, taemin, and minho go to a park or the city or just a movie night

i’d really like to apologize for being inactive for so long. i’ve not been in a good place to write but i’m hoping i can keep being more active now. please request more things for me the write, whether it be about this au or something else.

so when jonghyun and taemin are both in uni (jong is 20 and taemin is 16) and minho is 7 in grade school, onkey starts going on more out of country business trips. y’know bc jong and taem can drive and they take care of minho since taemin doesn’t live at uni still.

and when jinki is in europe for a two week business trip and kibum is at an all day meeting from 5am to 9pm, jong2min are left alone all day. all three are on holiday for the time being and absolutely bored out of their minds.

“dads are gone all day so what are we gonna do?” taemin asks, finally bored of the thousandth episode of god knows what on netflix.

minho shrugs but jonghyun sits up straighter. “how about a boys day?”

“that sounds really gay hyung.”

“shut up taemin hyung. we already know you’re gay,” minho says.

taemin shakes his head. “elaborate then.”

jonghyun smiles widely and taemin feels a bit guilty almost. his hyung hasn’t smiled like that in too long. minho’s too young so he doesn’t get it.

“a brother’s day. we never hang out since taem and i are so busy with school and you’ve got soccer min. but we’re all free today so why don’t we take this opportunity and spend the whole day together.” jonghyun checks his watch. “it’s almost 9. let’s get breakfast and then figure out what to do.”

2min agrees and minho is obviously more excited bc no offense to his hyungs but he’s felt so left out since they’re closer in age and  they go to school together without him.

so in about half and hour they’re at the diner down the street and they’re sharing this great big american breakfast together.

halfway through, minho pipes up. “so what are we doing first today?”

jonghyun ponders the thought. “let’s go to an arcade. i haven’t been there since taem and i were your age min. then ice skating.”

“can we get stuffed crust pizza for lunch?” taemin chimes in.

“but we’re already eating breakfast taem,” jonghyun says.

taemin shrugs. “i like stuffed crust.” he quietly argues with jonghyun about this for ten more minute before the older gives in and they decide on stuffed crust pizza for lunch.

“what else?” minho says, trying not to bounce in his seat like the 4 year old personality he has.

“that theme park in downtown seoul!” jonghyun says a bit too loudly, receiving some stranged looks from nearby customers. he sinks lower in his seat and minho giggles sweetly.

and so they head off to the arcade first, waiting to digest the huge breakfast they’ve had. it’s relatively empty and so all three take their times in playing the racing games, the hunting games and trying to win the grand jackpot of tickets.

“i have enough tickets to buy a thousand of those mini pencil erasers!” jonghyun exclaims. “if we pool all of our tickets together we can get like, a million of those tiny erasers.”

taemin backs up. “oh hell no hyung. i’m not wasting my tickets on some dumb erasers. i’m buying one of those tiny soft dinosaur plushes.” minho excitedly agrees to do the same but with a puppy plush.

after some time spent screaming at the games, they head to ice skating. it’s also pretty empty there so they rent some skates (jong’s treat because he actually has money lmao).

but they spend practically the whole hour falling over like idiots except minho who is actually an ice skating god. while minho is gliding skillfully across the ice, jongtae are hanging to the wall and slipping.

“fucking fuck,” taemin mutters, tightly gripping the nearby wall. jonghyun is not far behind him. “hyung, why did you ever suggest doing this?”

jonghyun stumbles and hits the ice again. “because i thought it would be fun. didn’t think. it would be so. fucking hard,” he says, stopping every couple of words because he’s hurting and focusing on not spending the rest of the time on the damned ground

they spend some time there, minho laughing at their failure and then decide to get the stuffed crust pizza before going to the amusement park. jong packages the rest and then they drive to the amusement park. it’s mid-afternoon now but they opt to go anyway bc who cares tbh? onkey hasn’t asked or sent texts so jonghyun assumes it’s fine. his phone is running low on battery so he shuts it off.

taemin is a bit reluctant to go on the infamous ride of the park: screamin’ in seoul. it’s windy and loopy and huge and the idea of riding it is making taem a bit lightheaded. jonghyun and minho are practically dragging him to the line and when they reach the front, taemin is considering backing out.

“c’mon hyung! we’re sitting in the front!” minho squeals, pulling taemin to sit in the middle of the three seated row. taemin is lowkey stressing.

once they’re seated, it takes about ten minutes before the cart starts moving. it pauses, a countdown commences and the ride takes off at unimaginable speeds. taemin starts to scream in pure terror along with jonghyun. minho is shouting in excitement.

taemin stumbles off when the ride ends, clutching onto jonghyun. minho is cackling in  joy. “jesus f. christ,” taem heaves. “i’m done. i’m done i need a churro.”

so they get a churro and lots of snacks, ride a couple more rides and play games before the night ends. jonghyun drives everyone back. taemin and minho pass out in the backseat together. the oldest smiles contently.

when they get home, kibum is pacing the living room frantically with the phone pressed up against his ear.

“jinki. i’m freaking the fuck out. they’re all gone. the door was unlocked when i got home and jonghyun isn’t answering his phone. what the hell do i do?”

jonghyun mentally slaps himself. he forgot to lock the door when they left and his phone died. perfect timing. he steps through the door, both hands occupied by holding the hands of 2min, who are barely awake.

“dad?” he asks carefully.

kibum turns towards the sound and immediately runs over to hug all three of his sons. he releases and an expression of anger overcomes him. “where the hell have you been? you’ve had me worried sick!”

jonghyun squirms. “we’ve been hanging out all day. i forgot to lock the door. and my phone died.”

kibum shakes his head but a smile appears on his face. “you were hanging out together? all three of you?”

jonghyun knows where this is going. kibum is going to get all sappy about how all three of the brobros are getting along yada yada. he’s praying kibum is too tired from his meeting to say anymore.

“yes dad. we were,” jonghyun says, grinning stupidly. “it’s been a long day so i’m heading to bed. besides, minho’s sagging and my arm hurts.”

kibum stops him. “whoa whoa. that was irresponsible you know, leaving the door unlocked and not telling anyone where you went. you’re grounded. we’ll discuss how long when your dad gets back.”

jonghyun sighs. of course. 20 years old and he’s still getting punished like he did when he was in grade school. he shakes his head, smiling tiredly. carefully, he tucks his little brothers into bed and then heads over to wash up and sleep.

he’s grounded but he’s full and happy as he drifts off.

#shinee scenarios #lee taemin scenarios #shinee #lee taemin #prodigy au

[warmau]

could you write the got7 maknae line neighbour!au,,,,i love your writing btw

sure!find the other members (here) 

Youngjae:

specifically chose an apartment with enough space for a piano,,,,,,,which means his living room is just his piano and like a rug there isn’t any room for anything else,,,,,,

but that’s fine with him because he has his computer set up in the bedroom so he can play games and that’s all he really needs in his life youngjae is a simple man with simple hobbies

he also won’t admit it but he spent more money on coco’s bed than he did on his own (definitely waited for ikea’s end of year sale or something for that)

keeps everything pretty minimal in style, beige’s and whites. tries to keep his place tidy because he knows it would make his mother proud and he wants to leave as much open space for coco to play around

more dog toys in his apartment than there is furniture 

the neighbors all know him as ‘debussy boy’ because in the spring/summer when youngjae has his windows open the neighbors can hear him practicing clair de lune and it’s such a relaxing melody that someone will shout “encore!” just to hear youngjae play it again

he’s also just a really sweet, mannered guy so most of the neighbors don’t mind his music and some of the moms keep asking him to offer piano lessons so they can bring their kids over to be taught by him

and that’s exactly what he does because hey, rent is getting higher and making some extra money on the side is never a bad thing

but most of the time he can’t even bring himself to take the neighbors money,,,,,,,,,he ends up teaching on donations that the parents have to literally push onto him

and you’ve never been really interested in learning to play the piano,,,,,but you’ve lived across from youngjae for half a year now and every time you hear him play it’s like ,,,,,, it’s like stepping into a fairytale 

not to mention that when you see him, with that eye smile of his and that adorable innocent aura,,,,,,,like ok ok you might maybe have developed a little crush or whatever,,,,,,,,

so one day you as you’re taking the elevator up with him, talking about the weather, you suddenly go “i heard you teach piano lessons - can i possibly sign up for one?”

and youngjae seems a little surprised, mostly because his students are all children 

but even with his cheeks getting more red he tells you that sure, he’s free this sunday

and before you ring his doorbell on sunday afternoon you check your hair and straighten your shirt like one hundred million times but when you finally do, youngjae opens the door and apologizes in a stutter for the mess (there isn’t any mess tho lmao)

and you follow him to the pretty piano in the middle of his living room and you’re like “where’s your tv? o:” and youngjae is like “no ,,,, room,,,,,,,,,,, i watch whatever i can on my laptop!” and you’re like “you must really love playing the piano, it’s like this apartment is dedicated just to this instrument”

and you don’t even mean to make him embarrassed, but youngjae has to hide his face for a bit because he’s blushing and once you both sit down on the bench you confess you don’t have the first clue about what you’re doing

and youngjae finally seems less shy, smiling and putting his fingers on the keys and teaching you slowly what sound each one makes

and the time passes so fast as you two sit side by side and youngjae’s voice is so gentle and his laugh makes your heart beat a little faster

and then you try to play something on your own, but you’re clumsy and suddenly youngjae puts his hand over yours, guiding your fingers along the keys

and only when you’re done does he realizes that you’re basically holding hands and he’s like “aH IM,,,,,,,,SORr,,,,,,y,,,,,,,,”

and he moves his hand away but you’re like looking down trying not to hide the fact that you’re really happy ,,,,,,,, plus his skin had been so warm

two shy cute people that obviously think “they’re so cute” about each other but can’t even look into each others eyes 

and you thank youngjae for the lesson when coco starts weaving between your feet, nudging youngjae and asking him to take her on her walk

and youngjae is like “it’s no problem,,,,,if you want,,,,,,,,,you can come again,,,,,,,next week,,,,,,,,,”

and you’re like “i’d love to!” and then you look around in your pockets for the money you had brought but youngjae stops you and he’s like “i won’t,,,,,,,,,,,think of these as lessons more like,,,,,,,d,,,,,,,,da,,,,,,,”

and you’re like omg does he want to say dates?????

and youngjae can’t bring himself to do is he’s like “like d,,,,,,da,,,dat,,,,” and you giggle and say it for him and he’s like yES,,,,if that’s ok,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

and you’re like that’s more than ok and you’re like if you won’t take cash payment then can i kiss you on the cheek instead??

and youngjae would melt into a puddle if that was humanly possible but he nods and when you press your lips to his cheek you pull back fast and youngjae wants to say something

but coco’s barking cuts you two off,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

it’s cute though you both lie in the bed that night thinking about how you could go from being neighbors to being much more,,,,,,

BamBam

gets in trouble with the landlord because he throws parties every weekend 

but he always gets away with it because the neighbors are like “he’s a young boy, let him live!!!!” and also bambam has killer puppy dog eyes. they’d work on just about anyone,,,,,,,,,,,,,,minus like jinyoung

his apartment is a Mess. like im talking a real m e s s. his bedroom is just an assortment of clothing thrown into piles with shoes and accessories everywhere,,,,,,,half the time he ends up sleeping using an t-shirt as a pillow 

the only thing he keeps clean is a Buddhist shrine he keeps in his room as per request of his mom and if anyone even tries to go near it he’s like “i WILL chop your hand off” ,,,,,it’s really important to him

but yeah his living room is just,,,,like no one is sure what’s going on,,,he’s got like weird art on the walls and a neon sign he bought on impulse and like ,,,,, empty bottles from drinks and take-out cartons and underwear hanging off a lamp ???? glitter on the floor who even knows

his kitchen is even worse like when does he even do the dishes. does he even own dishes? nope bring your own dishes if you plan to not eat off like a frisbee when you come over

you know bambam at first because you hear about his parties, literally like you hear the party through your wall

and ten minutes later there’s a ring at your doorbell and some dude named jackson is inviting you over since there’s free drinks and food

and you’re like you know what ill go and that night you get introduced to bambam, who is apparently trying to attempt some kind of high speed dab balancing a bottle of water on his head and you’re like “why he’s doing that”

that jackson kid is like “oh, he’s doing it for instagram”

and as you continue being neighbors with bambam you find out he does a L OT for instagram

which is fine like,,,,,,,,,,,kids and their social media these days but before you know it you end up being asked by bambam himself for some help

and so you’re standing in his living room, holding up his phone and you’re like “are you sure this is a good idea?”

and bambam, who is attempting to do a handstand is like “anything for the internet is a good idea”

and you’re sighing like ok but if you come tumbling down im not going to catch you

and you start recording as he tries to lift both arms up at the same time to dab “upside down” which of course is a total failure like you predicted

and he goes falling legs, something sounds like it cracks and you’re like

“…………..bambam don’t move i think you might have broken your arm” and bambam whose just laying there motionless is like,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, “i can’t move,,,,,,,,,,,it hurts,,,,,,,,”

and you don’t want to be an asshole and just leave him all alone once the ambulance comes so you tag along and the EMT is like “so what exactly happened?” and you’re like “he ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, fell while working out.”

and you’re not sure if he believes the lie you’ve just told but the EMT shrugs and is like “it looks like nothing is broken, your boyfriend just has a fracture.”

and you want to be like boyfriend??????? since when excUSE me 

but bambam makes a sound of pain and you’re like “ok ok don’t worry, you’re not dying”

and somehow you find yourself staying by his side in the emergency room and after the doctor has patched him all up you go out and get the two of you some coffees from the vending machine

and bambam is sitting up in the bed and you’re like “let me the first person to sign your bandage” and you scribble something like “don’t ever dab upside down again” and bambam laughs

but also,,,,,, he looks up at you and there’s something sincere in his eyes when he tells you that he’s really thankful for you staying with him and that you’re really a good neighbor

and you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but bambam looks so handsome,,,,, maybe because you’ve never been so close to his face before but his features are so gorgeous

that you have to look away and conjure up a laugh to hide your embarrassment from locking eyes with him

but knowing bambam he’s sly and he’s caught on

and you feel his free hand wrap around your waist and pull you closer and you’re like “oh!??” and he’s like 

“you took care of me, so how about i pay for our dinner tonight?” and you’re like “bambam can you even get your wallet out with one hand?” and he’s like “i can try, for you.”

and you have the urge to like pinch him for being greasy all of a sudden but also like maybe this goofy guy who actually loves your attention a lot,,,,,,,,,,,,,is really cute and worth it to go to dinner with,,,,,,,,,

Yugyeom

if the neighbors cat gets stuck in the tree, everyone knows to call him: the living giant of the apartment building, Kim Yugyeom 

the neighborhood kids adore him because they always beg him for piggy back rides or to sit on his shoulders

and he always stops whatever he’s doing to play with them and just be an overall cute angelic human being that we as people do not deserve 

has that kind of personality that makes people give him stuff for free and when he thanks them they’re just like “oh wait there’s something else i need to give you wait here a second-”

anyone who meets him instantly wants to take care of him,,,,he’s soft

his apartment is really well organized which is surprising for his age,,,,, like his closet is color coded and he matches all the patterns with each other

and he cutely hangs his laundry out on the balcony like his mom taught him

and just like,,,,,,,he’s so sugary sweet and simple

buys fresh flowers for his living room whenever he can. that’s the kind of person he is

and you’ve been pretty good friends with him for a while. he even helped you paint your apartment where you had to get on a stool to reach the ceiling and he just,,,,,,,,well stood there

and you know yugyeom has a passion for dancing, he’s always telling you about what song he’s practicing and who he met up with from different dance crews

but one night as you’re going up to the roof to just sit and think,,,,something you do every now and then 

you’re surprised to hear the faint sound of music beyond the door and when you open it

you can hear a song on full blast, and the sound of someones sneakers against the floor and you’re surprised to see the tall, lean, but familiar figure of yugyeom

and although you usually see him wearing some kind of long coat, turtlenecks and shirts from popular brands

you see that all he has on is a pair of old sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt, sweat visible around the neck.

his movements though,,,,,,they’re far more smooth than you could have ever imagined. you can tell he practices a lot, he’s so good that you can barely see any mistakes

and yugyeom doesn’t notice you until the song ends and you (embarrassingly) unconsciously clap

and it startles him to the point that he lets out a small yelp, but with the faint light from the streets below he makes out your face and smiles

and he’s like “why are you up here?” and you’re like “no reason, i didn’t know you used the roof to practice?”

and you can see him get sheepish, scratching the back of his neck and he’s like “my room doesn’t have enough space, plus i don’t want to be loud with my music. it’s so nice and free up here.”

and you nod looking at him with a still mesmerized expression and yugyeom laughs a bit and he’s like “don’t gape like that, im nothing special” and you’re like no what?? you’re so amazing???/ i never knew you were THIS talented

and he laughs again, but he’s really happy to hear you say that and you go over and pass him a napkin from your pocket and you’re like “your sweat!!” and he gets blushy again but thankfully you can’t see it 

but you’re also like “ill go, i don’t want to disturb you”

but yugyeom grabs your wrist before you turn and he’s like “if you want,,,,,,,,you can watch me some more,,,,,,,i don’t know if it’ll be entertaining though-”

but you’re already saying you’ll stay, sitting down comfortably by the portable speakers and yugyeom is like “pick a song!” 

and you shuffle through his music, settling on a chris brown song that makes yugyeoms eyes light up

and it’s really adorable,,,,,,the way he’s so passionate while dancing and then so cute when he’s just talking to you,,,,,,

very how should i put this,,,,,,,BOYFRIEND material  

#got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #youngjae scenarios #youngjae scenario #bambam scenario #bambam scenarios #yugyeom scenario #yugyeom scenarios #choi youngjae scenarios #kunpimook scenario #kim yugyeom scenarios #sfw #got7 #youngjae #yugyeom #bambam

[remembermemorablememories]

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

post #142

main points:

- second day of orientation in mountain view

- chilling at home

today i:

- woke up at 8:30am ish to my alarm. i needed to be at the office by 10am for orientation so i was taking my time. i took a lime bike and biked to campus. the bike only cost me $2.40 for like a 15 minute ride :D 

i arrived at the wrong part of campus around 9:40pm so i frantically tried to get to the right place and rented a bike that was near me, ovo. i got to the orientation just on time around 10am LOL

- we went through more orientation stuff. on security, and then developer workflows. again going to leave this vague. for security presentation, that was 10-11am. then we chilled and explored the office for a bit and filled out some prereqs for our afternoon session. got lunch from 12pm-1pm

- afternoon session was developer workflow like committing and code reviews and how everything works internally. that went until 4pm. then we completed some sample exercises so that we could get the hang of how to use these internal tools on our own. we were chilling with our boston squad.

around 5pm i finished and transitioned to doing some stuff that my mentor asked me to get ramped up on. and around 6:15pm i headed to a cafe that had really good food on the menu and ate dinner there. then i finished and ubered home (for a mere $3.69) and got back around 7:30pm

- since then i chilled for a bit on youtube. ate some leftovers i brought back from dinner. watched an episode of the office S3E18 “negotiation”. chilled with tyrone on discord. 

- had a phone call with viv to figure out plans on friday cause she’s helping me move my stuff cause she has a car. we also caught up on random stuff and then it was like 10pm. then i took a long shower and now i’m writing this up. 

i actually had to update the dates of my blog posts lmao. from like May 8. i jumped from may 8 to like may 11 so everything was off since then. i’ve updated everything now and it’s fixed

overall, a fun day. i’m really not sure what to do with all my free time. i think i’m gonna start picking up a hobby once i move on friday and stop living out of a suitcase. that and i’ll start getting more fit and running again. also today at work was better imo cause it was more technical and we got more hands on things to do. i felt like i was learning stuff that i’d be able to use on the job

that’s about it. i’m gonna go to sleep now i’ve been typing with my eyes closed for like the last two paragraphs

wow no typos at all ayyyyy

okay good night

i’ve been feeling sleepy around 11pm every day lmao. i think this is great for a work schedule cause i go to sleep early. but also i’m still kind of jet lagged so i guess that’s why

#post #may #2018