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agent-cupcake · 2 years ago

Text

Double Down

I am on vacation so this might not be very polished but I needed to get the idea out there. It's a very important message.

Pairing: Claude von Riegan x f!reader

Synopsis: Your mischievous husband comes up with a game to keep you entertained at a work party, and you lose.

Warnings: explicit smut

Tags: semi-public sex, use of sex toys in a public setting, face fucking, overstimulation, edging, D/s dynamics

Word Count: 5.2k

“Sure, that sounds fun,” you agreed, refusing to show any sort of reaction to Claude’s proposed plan. It seemed like one of his games, the kind that were meant to push you a little too far just so he could enjoy your reaction, so you didn’t give him one.

“Really?” he asked. Just like you hoped, your response clearly caught him off guard.

You shrugged, smiling coyly. “Why not?”

That was your biggest mistake. You didn’t doubt he would actually go through with it, but you assumed that there would be a point where your agreement would force him to admit he had only been playing, that he would have to relent before things went too far. And then he called your bluff, because Claude von Riegan had never met a line he didn’t at least think about crossing.

And that’s how you found yourself wound up, hot, and desperate, trapped among the expensively dressed elite at a fancy event held to celebrate the various donors and boardmembers of the Riegan family’s company, Leicester.

“Hey, are you alright?” Claude asked you, his tone dripping with sincerity. You narrowed your eyes at his furrowed brow and little frown, knowing it to be false. Nobody would be able to tell by his carefully calculated look of concern what was really going on; he played the role of caring husband perfectly. All night Claude had maintained an immaculate poker face, acting ignorant of your increasingly unraveled state. Taunting you, daring you to give up as he dragged you around to mingle. “You don’t look like you’re feeling so great.”

“You do look rather flushed,” Claude’s current conversation partner, an older gentleman whose name you could not recall, said with a polite frown. You wondered with equal parts horror and amusement what he would say if he knew the details of your ailment, the reason you looked flushed.

“I’m fine,” you told them both with a forced smile, doing everything in your power to ignore the way your pussy clenched around the silicone toy, reminding you of the sick nature of your lie.

You had agreed to wear the little U-shaped vibrator earlier, knowing full well that he had the remote and you were going to be in a very public setting. You knew that and agreed anyway because you thought it would force him to admit that he wasn’t as committed to his whole “devil may care” attitude regarding sex as he usually portrayed. Once again, you had managed to play right into his hand.

Claude had been teasing you ever since the party began, the remote tucked into his pocket to be messed with at his leisure. You could tell the moment he got bored of a conversation or speech because the thing would jolt to life, silent and hidden from everyone except for you. From the maddening lower vibrations that had you straining and squirming to the stronger ones that were nearly painfully overstimulating, he kept you on edge, not allowing you to come but making sure you stayed on that precipice. Playing with you like you were his own personal little puppet to keep the monotony of small talk from getting too tiresome.

The shame and embarrassment weren’t even the worst parts. It was the dreadful, miserable knowledge that Claude wouldn’t let you come. That had been his single rule before leaving, one you hadn’t thought would be that bad because you were used to his teasing. But this was different. You were an idiot for thinking this would ever end in your favor.

“I’m just a bit tired,” you explained, looking at Claude with an expression you hoped conveyed what you really meant. You needed a break.

“I don’t know,” Claude said, his face pinched with the most convincing display of worry you had ever seen. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.” You had to bite your lip to hide your reaction when the vibrator suddenly flicked back on. When your inner walls tensed up, the motion pulled the opposite end of the toy flush against your clit. It was all you could do to stifle a helpless groan, to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to either displace the toy or get satisfaction from it.

“It is flu season,” the older man offered with a doubtful frown. You avoided his eyes at all costs, embarrassment and pleasure and need and disgust and shame all swelling up inside of you. “Although I know this weather has been terrible for my allergies.”

“That could be it,” Claude said, pressing one hand to your cheek while the other stayed casually in his jacket. The vibrations grew stronger and your knees nearly buckled. His look of concern cracked for a moment and you saw the smug smile begging to break through, covered by the way his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer. “Maybe getting something to drink would help?”

“No, I’m… I’m going to use the restroom,” you told him, pulling free of his hold. “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” The vibrator mercifully shut off, not that it helped you walk normally when you could feel the way it shifted with every step. The best thing to be said was that most people who too absorbed within themselves to pay attention to you. And you just needed some space, a bit of breathing room. At least the toy remained off as you left the main atrium into the dark hallway. Little mercies.

The bathroom was thankfully vacant and, as expected, opulent. Marble countertops, screen display in the mirror, toilet with a bidet, thick paper towels, a nice floral scent, it even had music and some calming ambient lighting. At this point, you weren’t as intimidated by displays of wealth. Even flushed and breathing a bit hard, you looked like you belonged here. Claude had taught you the art of aristocratic artifice quite well. But you didn’t feel so much like a lady right then.. If your dress's hem wasn't the type that hung a little past your knees, the bottom flared with multiple layers of skirts to give it a nice retro flare, you probably would have a spot showing from how wet you were. Over an hour of teasing had sent your body into overdrive, it was agonizing. You could take the toy out, although you weren’t sure where you’d put it. Besides, Claude would probably be unhappy if you were to take away his fun.

While you were stuck considering the risk of what sort of punishment he might come up with versus the reward of sparing yourself, the door opened, shocking you upright. In the mirror, a pair of sparkling green eyes met yours.

“What are you doing?” you demanded. “This is the ladies' room.”

“Shh. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Claude said with a playful smile, locking the door behind himself. The sound made your stomach clench up, your pussy clenching around the toy and reminding you of the terrible ache. Although you would probably say that you had merely forgotten to lock the door, a part of you knew that this was what you wanted to happen, an invitation. “You’ve been so quiet tonight,” he continued, “and then with your dramatic exit, I got a little worried. Is something wrong?”

You frowned at his innocent act, your brow furrowing as you shot him the flattest look you could manage.

“As adorable as it is, pouting isn’t exactly an answer to what I asked,” Claude told you. “Unless that means you’re fine, in which case we should probably get back out there.” He hesitated, feigning an entirely nonchalant demeanor as he looked at your over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, these things tend to run a little long. You don’t mind staying, do you?”

The idea of going back out there like this, having to endure potentially hours more of torture, was too daunting. “Claude, I can’t take any more,” you said, knowing full well you were whining but too distraught to care. He smiled. “I’m being serious!”

“Just a little longer,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” you said unhappily. “Please, just… cool it a bit with the…” You gestured vaguely to his suit coat. It was tantamount to admitting defeat, but it was all you could think to do.

“What?” Claude asked with an infuriating amount of cherub-like innocence. “Oh! You mean this?” He held up the remote, holding your eye to make sure you were paying attention as he upped it to the highest setting. You gasped loudly, your legs nearly giving out.

“Ff-Claude!” you said, your voice a hoarse rasp somewhere between a whisper and a shout. “That’s too much.”

“Okay, okay, you can have it,” he said, holding the remote towards you, smiling a truly devilish smile, his skin warmed by the soft lighting and teeth winking in the low light. The vibrator continued its aggressive buzz against your inner walls, your pussy squeezing around it despite the discomfort of overstimulation. Every time it pressed in a particular way against your clit, white hot eletricity shot through your entire body.

“Really?” you asked uncertainly, too used to his antics to believe him at face value.

“Sure,” Claude agreed. “But you’ll have to come get it.” With that, he dropped it back into his pocket.

Normally you had a sense of modesty regarding these things. Claude could have you stripped bare and dripping wet and begging for him to touch you as if you were pleading for your life, but it took time to get there. You played a role, and that usually included a certain amount of hesitance, your desires drawn out of you in a way only he could. It was a matter of basic decency, something that Claude often seemed to lack when it came to teasing and taunting and torturing you.

But your brain was well and truly shorted out and things like shame or propriety no longer had any sort of meaning. You didn’t want the remote, you wanted satisfaction. You wanted Claude. So you gave up on the theater and stumbled towards him, pressing Claude against the door and kissing him desperately. To his credit, he didn’t stop you, letting you pull on his hair and press your body against him needily. You could feel the throaty vibrations of his laugh, but you didn’t care. Not when his hand settled on your waist, not when he grabbed your jaw, and especially not when he bit your lip. All the while the little toy buzzed inside of you, insistent and aggressive, and you wondered if this would be the time he’d let you come. Finally, finally allow you to get off.

Frenzied, your hand dropped from his hair to brazenly map his body through his fancy suit. You cupped his erection through his pants, trying to wind him up even a little bit. Claude groaned, his hips ever so slightly pushing against your hand, but you didn’t linger, hiking up your skirts and taking his hand to press it between your legs in turn. If your soaked panties weren’t the result of an entire night of cruel teasing, the way Claude’s eyes widened upon feeling how wet you were might have been empowering.

“Wow,” he said, sounding out each individual sound to articulate his shock, his fingers gingerly pressing the toy further into you, against you. It almost didn’t even feel good and you knew without a doubt that you would die if he stopped. You clung to the front of his suit, biting back your moans. “You didn’t secretly come while I wasn’t watching, did you?”

You shook your head, hoping it was convincing. That was hard when he was still teasing you with the toy, when all you wanted was to give in to the pleasure and finally get off.

“Really? 'Cause this feels an awful lot like the mess of a naughty girl who came without permission,” Claude teased. Not seductively, he was never so crass. But there was something about the playful banality he maintained while being so filthy that made it that much more potent. “When was it? When I was talking to old man Gloucester? That would be… Actually, that’d be pretty hilarious.”

“I promise I didn’t,” you said, your voice breathless with the fear he wouldn’t believe you, that he wouldn't let you finish.

“You won’t mind if I take a closer look, right?”

Your stomach tensed, breath catching. “What?”

“Just to make sure you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!”

“Then you won’t mind if I take a peek.”

Claude pushed you onto the counter, scooting you all the way back. He flicked your skirt up, opened your legs. With an almost methodical focus, he peeled your panties out of the way so he could get a good view of his handiwork. Whatever he saw made him whistle, impressed.

“Look at you,” he said, his pretty green eyes fixed solely on your pussy. Almost curiously, he adjusted the vibrator, pulled it out in a shallow mimic of a thrust before pushing it even deeper than before, targeting the raw nerves of your clit to make you whine and writhe, trying your best to not make a sound.

“I want to come, please,” you begged helplessly, your eyes squeezed shut. “Just once, it'll be really quick and then-"

“Just once?” Claude asked, his amusement growing in proportion with his cruel restraint. With the same detached curiosity, he separated your outer lips to see the inflamed, swollen flesh beneath, looking at the way your cunt drooled around the toy. Your pussy easily accepted his fingers when he pushed them against your entrance, they slipped in nice and easy beneath the toy. It wasn’t the stretch that made you yelp, it was the torturous way they pressed the vibrating head right against your g-spot. Your hips rolled and bucked, your body torn between actual pain and the build of pleasure.

“Claude! Please, I need to come,” you told him desperately, trying to keep your voice down but knowing you weren’t doing a very good job. “It hurts.”

“Hm. I’m not so sure,” he told you, grinding the vibrator against your spasming walls relentlessly, his other hand keeping you from squirming away. Every movement made you jerk helplessly, your entire body wound up tight. “Honestly, it doesn’t sound like its a very fair deal.”

“Please…” You felt as if you could get off from this, even if it was uncomfortable. It didn’t matter.

Before you could get off, the toy shut off and he slipped his fingers out of you. The sensations had done nothing but torment you, but the loss was worse. A lot worse. Claude pressed against it indulgently, grinding still silicone against your swollen clit. Then he pulled your drenched panties back into place, patting them fondly.

“Sorry,” he told you, entirely unapologetic, “but if I have to wait, you have to wait.”

You whined high in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. At that point, you really had only one option, and limited time to decide if you could follow through. “I’ll blow you,” you told him quickly, sitting up and letting your skirts fall into place. “Really quick, and then we can go back and I won’t complain. Just let me come… please.”

Claude gave you a look that you couldn’t read, although you hoped that it was amusement that danced in his half lidded eyes. “Just to be clear,” he said in an even tone, “you’re offering to perform fellatio in a public woman's bathroom at a fancy company event."

“Sure,” you said, disregarding the fact that he was clearly teasing you by stating it so crudely. “Please?” You put your hand against the front of his pants, rubbing his erection through the fabric. He didn’t react, but you could see the exact moment Claude’s character broke, his smile sharpening and eyes narrowing accusatorily.

“You cunning little hussy,” he said, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand off of him. Then he sighed heavily, his dark eyes scanning you slowly. “I really ought to say no, I’m supposed to be setting a good example.” His thumb pressed against your bottom lip idly. “Then again, how can I refuse someone who’s in such a tough spot? That’s pretty antithetical to all our speeches about ethics and responsibility.”

“So I can?” you asked hopefully.

“But you better hurry,” Claude told you, stepping back. “I’d hate for people to suspect we’re up to anything indecent.”

Usually you needed more than that to fall on your knees in front of him and play the slut. Usually he had to entice you to open your mouth for him. Usually he had to employ all manner of honeyed words and teasing threats to get you to stick your tongue out for his use. This time, you didn’t so much as pause before sliding off the counter and falling to your knees.

You watched Claude unzip his pants with hungry eyes, your flushed chest heaving with each panted breath. His cock was half hard, stiffening as he casually stroked himself in a borderline taunting way right in front of your face. When you made to reach for him, desperate to touch, Claude clicked his tongue disapprovingly. You froze, looking up at him with searching eyes.

“If you wanna make yourself come, you’ll need both your hands,” Claude said, far too composed for a man with his dick out. “But that’s fine. All I really need is your mouth.” He spoke so casually, but there was a dare in the quirk of his eyebrow, in that infuriating upturn twisting the corner of his lips.

With the toy still inside of you, you could feel exactly how dramatically your pussy unconciouslessly tightened in response to what he was proposing. This man was going to be the death of you. It wasn’t necessarily true that you needed both hands, not when all you were really going to need was a bit of pressure on the vibrator, but there was no point in arguing with him. That wasn’t the point.

You dutifully shuffled forward, with your legs spread apart for balance and your hand diving beneath your skirts. It was awkward to hold them out of the way and the floor was not at all comfortable to kneel on, but you couldn’t care less.

“Aren’t you going to…?” you asked pointedly, looking at his pocket where he’d put the remote.

“I thought you asked me to… what was it you… Cool it?” Claude asked casually, the tip of his cock nudging against your lips as he stroked himself. “You seemed pretty unhappy when I had it on earlier.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you turned away slightly. “Claude…”

"Nah, I’m just messing with you,” he said with a big smile. The vibrator switched back on. You jolted with the sensation, letting out a breathy gasp. It created the perfect opening for him to push into your mouth, his cock sliding through the excess saliva that had pooled on your tongue. You choked a little before you got ahold of yourself, the familiar taste of his cock filling your mouth.

Part of you wanted to look up at him, to admire the way pleasure played across his beautiful face, but you knew you didn't have much time and there was only so much multitasking you could do. Relax your jaw and open your throat and get to work, your eyes squeezed shut as you adjusted the vibrator.

Claude started slow, holding your head in place so he could thrust lazily into your mouth rather than pulling you back and forth like a cocksleeve. The taste of him filled your senses, something you were very familiar with by now. While not entirely pleasant, the scent, the weight, the rhythm—was all Claude. Intoxicating Claude. You used your tongue as much as you could, closing your lips around him to suck in between strokes. It was loud and messy, but it was how he liked it and, honestly, that was all that mattered. You matched his pace with the toy, using the bridge of the U shape to tease the sore muscles of your entrance, the head bumping against your overstimulated clit. Your other hand braced against his thigh, fingers digging into the taut muscle hidden beneath carefully fitted and pressed pants.

"While I hate to pin the blame on you while you’re in such a difficult spot," Claude said as if continuing a conversation you hadn’t been involved in. “I have to point out that all of this is your own fault. I mean, you're the one who wanted to try this. Really, I was only doing what you wanted.” He was venturing deeper now, testing your gag reflex to see if you flinched. It was a source of great pride that you didn't. He was a good teacher. "If I recall correctly, you were all but begging me to do something to spare you the boredom of parties like these," he continued, only slightly strained as he pushed even deeper with each thrust. “It’s not like I get anything out of it.”

You peeked up at him with squinted eyes, making a noise approximating disagreement because that absolutely wasn't true. But he knew that, his impish grin and the dangerously smoldering green of his eyes beneath those inky lashes said everything. He turned up the vibrator a notch and you groaned helplessly, the sound making Claude surge in your mouth.

"But, because I’m a good husband, I played along," Claude agreed, his grip on your hair tightening so you didn't pull away. “And now you seduced me into such a compromising situation anyway, thinking you can get away with it because of those doe eyes.” He cut himself off, pausing for a moment to stifle a moan. “The worst part is that you’re right. How could I not feel bad?”

As irritated as you could pretend to be by his antics—his bold faced lies—both of you knew it was only making you hotter, your cunt clenched so tight around the vibrator that it hurt. You groaned low, your hips shakily grinding against nothing as that coil of pleasure in your core tightened. The way you pushed the toy around, desperately trying to mimic the way Claude was fucking your mouth, became less calculated in your need for raw sensation. But Claude was ever demanding, you had to remind yourself to relax your throat before you choked. He was getting rougher now, clearly not trying to savor this. Neither were you, really.

"But I know the truth. I mean, what kind of girl wears a sex toy in public?" Claude continued, his voice unsteady and distracted, talking more for the sake of it than because he was thinking about words. "And while we're surrounded by the upper echelon of Fódlan elite! Really shocking stuff. Here I thought you were this sweet, shy little thing. But you're not, are you? No, you're… God's, you're—"

Claude moaned, the sound too unconscious for him to properly stifle. His hips jumped forward needily and, this time, he did pull you down, forcing you forward to meet his thrust until your nose was buried in the dark hair at the base of his cock. Taking him all the way like this wasn't natural or comfortable, but that wasn't the point. Breathing didn’t matter, your body’s natural response didn’t matter, nothing mattered except for making Claude happy. You swallowed, savoring the wrongness of your throat muscles contracting against such a large intrusion.

You could imagine the same weight in your cunt, far more satisfying than the little vibrator. When he’d fingered you earlier, you had been able to feel how swollen you were. It would probably hurt a bit if he were to fuck you hard and fast when you were so over-sensitized, your muscles sore from overuse and caught between white hot overstimulation and buzzing numbness. The thought alone was the thing to send you over the edge, shuddering as the pleasure finally burst, the tension snapping lax.

Claude didn’t stop, didn’t even pause. He just hissed out a breath, his hips shallowly thrusting deep into your mouth, pitilessly bumping the back of your throat. The lack of oxygen was frightening, and it was difficult to fight back your body's urge to gag. The way he held you in place was so deliciously cruel and dominant, there was nothing else. Only Claude, and your existence as something for him to use. That tugged out the sweetness of finally getting off, your orgasm overcoming every discomfort in this blinding surge of lustful bliss.

“Swallow,” he told you. An order, although Claude never bothered to sound authoritative, knowing you would do what he said anyway.

It was so cruel, so horrible to ask that when you were suffocating. But you found a way to swallow around him again, and your body registered that as it always did, your inner walls clamping down hard around the toy, pressing it hard against your g-spot. Despite the sudden rush of fresh overstimulation. Shaking with the intensity of pleasure, you ground the vibrator into your clit, uncaring that it hurt against the overstimulated flesh. You told him you just wanted to come once, but that wasn’t enough. It never was.

"Perfect," Claude groaned, drawing back with a deluge of saliva slipping out the seam between your lips and his cock, drooling down your chin and onto the clean tile floor. Despite how badly you needed to breathe, he really didn’t give you a chance. Every aspect of it was so filthy, uncomfortable. It was so hot. "Such a good girl for me, I’m really…"

He was close now, his pace uneven and cock hard and heavy against your tongue. If things had sounded lewd before, it was nothing in comparison to the depraved slurping and squishing and moaning as you did your best to match his desperate chase of pleasure. Even with your mouth stuffed full, your moans and grunts and breaths fucked silent, you could hear the sound you made as you came again, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack as Claude continued to fuck your mouth. That seemed to be the thing because his fingers pulled hard at your hair.

"Mm, I'm gonna—fuck." Claude groaned, the only warning you got before he dragged you back down, his cock forced down your throat as his hips jerked, shallowly thrusting to work himself through release. You just swallowed, over and over, your throat working around his dick so you didn't end up choking on the hot bursts of cum, both of your hands braced on his thighs.

Once he was done, Claude pulled out, a fresh wave of saliva following. It had formed a puddle on the clean tile. You fell back, head spinning from a lack of oxygen. You let your jaw shut woodenly, blinking as if waking up.

"Hey, let me see," Claude said. The vibrator shut off. You blinked a few more times, looking up at him blankly. Then you remembered, and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue to show him it was pink and clean. At this point, shame was a vague memory. Claude grinned, an oddly boyish look considering the satisfied, predatory gleam in his eye. "You never cease to amaze me." He pet your hair gently, and you hummed happily.

Claude fixed his clothes somewhat, fly and belt roguishly loose, before holding out a hand. You were shaky, and hot, and a little dazed. He helped you to your feet to lean against the counter. With his pants back in place, he looked no worse for wear as he washed his hands. Maybe there was more of a reddish flush on his cheeks, a shiny glaze to his pretty eyes, but nothing that would give away what happened. You, on the other hand, looked rough. He hadn’t so much as touched you and you looked debauched, blushing and sweaty and panting, your hair a mess from his rough handling. The dormant toy still inside of you served as a continuous reminder of how badly you wanted him to fuck you, your shaky legs and slightly sore jaw and throat and the taste of cum and cock lingering on your tongue doing nothing to nullify that ache.

But you had told him you would be good. Trying to salvage your appearance, you washed your hands as well, rinsing your mouth out and trying to smooth out the mess he’d made of your hair. Claude produced a pack of gum and a small sleeve of makeup wipes from his pockets, which made you raise an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you planned this exact thing,” you said, accepting the gum. The cinnamon flavor was abrasive enough to make you feel less like somebody who had just let her husband fuck her throat in the bathroom during a fancy business event.

He shrugged glibly. “I like to be prepared. Here, look at me,” Claude told you, gently turning you by the shoulder to face him. You allowed him to tilt your chin up and carefully dab the skin beneath your eyes with the wipe, cleaning up the mascara tears. You looked at his pursed lips, somehow feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

"How much longer do we have to stay?" you asked.

"I told you it could be a while,” he replied, giving you a once over before deciding you were appropriately cleaned up. “As frustrating as it can be, these things are a part of the gig.”

“Maybe I am sick,” you said, looking at yourself again. You looked a bit better, at least. Less obviously debauched. The flush could, to somebody who didn’t have a filthy mind, look like a fever. “I heard the flu was going around, and my throat is awfully sore…”

“Hey, you offered.”

“Only because you’ve been torturing me all night!” you told him with a frown.

“Is that a fact?” Claude asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized with a sinking sort of horrified lust that you shouldn’t have said anything, especially not that. “You know, I was ready to give it up and call it a draw.”

“Claude…”

“The website said it has a pretty long battery life,” he mused, brushing past you. “Guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Claude, don’t,” you said with a frown, your sore pussy clenching around the silicone toy. There was no way you could endure more. No way.

“You should go first, it’ll look less suspicious that way,” he told you, unlocking the door. “Go wait at our table, I’ll join you in a few.”

“Give me the remote first,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, you had your chance,” he told you, wagging his finger in a playful way. “Multiple chances, really.”

“It hurts,” you whined.

“I could always just put it on high and see how long it takes to burn itself out. If you would rather that-”

“You’re mean,” you told him, but a sick part of you flushed hot at the threat. Not because it would be nice, you thought it would be abjectly horrible, but because it was Claude threatening you.

“This is the price you pay for playing games you can’t win,” Claude told you with a shrug and a grin. “Better luck next time.”

#claude von riegan #fe claude #claude von riegan x reader #fe claude x reader #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #not sfw #my writing #if there are errors pls ignore i wrote most of this on an airplane and drunk on pina colada

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lovemesomesurveys · 2 years ago

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Do you think you look good with red hair? I was dyeing my hair red for awhile and I really do miss it. Do you like the color orchid? Yeah. What is your favorite middle name for a girl? *shrug* Do you prefer common names or unique names? I like some common names and I like unique names, too. What is your favorite common girl's name of your generation? I don’t have one particular favorite.

Have you ever done a photo shoot with a friend in the fall? No. What color was the last scarf you wore? I don’t wear scarves. What is your favorite type of Christmas cookie? I love sugar cookies and shortbread. When was the last time you took a selfie? It’s been awhile. Does your hair have any natural curl to it? No. Do you enjoy getting caught in the rain? Now I have that pina colada song stuck in my head, ha. Anyway, I love the rain and don’t mind getting a little rained on unless it’s like pouring down hard and I’m soaked. Do you think you look good in black? I feel most comfortable in black. How many of your grandparents are still alive? Two. Would you rather it be 70 degrees outside or 90 degrees outside? 70 for sure. We’re in mid October and it’s still in the 90s here D: What do you think is the best outdoor temperature for running? I would think cooler weather like low 70s. Who is your favorite music artist at the moment? I don’t have a particular favorite at the moment. I don’t listen to music much anymore like I used to. What was the last flavor of ice cream you ate? Well, I had an Oreo creme milkshake last night. Are you allergic to any foods, and if so, what? Just tangerines that I know of. Do you like to play in the rain? ☔️ No. Do you ever go for a walk in the rain just for fun? No. Which insect annoys you the most? Flies and gnats. How many proms have you been to? One. What was the name of the first dorm you lived in? I didn’t live in a dorm. Do you prefer hard rock music or soft rock? I like some of both. Do you have way too many photos on your computer? No, I only have a few to be honest. I have a shit ton saved on my phone, though. I also have like Pinterest and Tumblr for that. What were the last three emojis you used? I don’t feel like checking. Do you think you look good in pink? I don’t think I look good in anything. What are three things you have in common with Kermit the Frog? Uhh... What was your favorite Beanie Baby that you had when you were younger? I just liked ‘em all and enjoyed collecting as many as I could. Did you ever own a Furby? Yes. Do you prefer to have a window seat or an aisle seat on an airplane? ✈️ I’ve only sat in the middle the few times I’ve flown. What is your favorite type of dance? I don’t have one. Did you listen to the music group Play when you were younger? Yeah. Were you a bigger fan of Backstreet Boys or *N Sync? I was a fan of both. What was your first concert? High School Musical in concert, haha. Do you have any photos that were photo-bombed by your pet? Yeah. Have you ever dressed up as a fairy? Nope.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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chemsexholmes · 4 years ago

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tagged by @gene-ious. i kiss your hand.

t. turn you on by queen latifah

h. hold on, im comin' by sam & dave

e. escape (pina colada song) by rupert holmes

c. carey by joni mitchell

h. he's doin' it by the gories

e. everyday people by sly and the family stone :)

v. volunteers by jefferson airplane

y. you have a home by fanny

p. pour some sugar on me by def leppard

i. I killed sally's lover by the avett brothers

c. come all ye by fairport convention

k. K.I.S.S. by the boomtown rats

u. U.N.I.T.Y. by queen latifah

p. plastic fantastic lover by jefferson airplane

ty!!! tagging @cantibutch @letpapersleep @fruit-caught-on-camera @piercedpressure @homesickness @fishpilled @boldingenue @californiasplit @ anyone who wants to :)

#resident jefferson airplane enjoyer #:)#inbox #whent ham with the tags. my apologies

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

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Risky Business

Risky Business - Part 5 of the Group Texts Are Forever series

McDanno, A03 (read from the beginning of the series here)

September, 2020

TR: Junes, where are you?

JR: It’s not even six yet, I’m not late.

TR: I didn’t say you were late. Where are you?

JR: Are you at Steve’s? What’s wrong?

TR: You are exasperating.

JR: I can’t believe you bothered to text that word.

TR: Get your ass over to Steve’s, you don’t want to miss this.

JR: I’m at the liquor store trying to get all the stuff everyone asked for.

TR: I’m sorry, was my request too complicated for you?

JR: Compared to the usual list, yeah.

TR: Sue me for wanting something besides another six pack of Longboards.

JR: Why are you there already?

TR: I thought we were supposed to be here at five. But I’m glad I came early.

JR: Why?

TR: Because I’m being treated to the cutest sight in the history of Five-0.

JR: Did Eddie curl up in the bathtub again?

TR: Nope.

JR: Is Charlie there?

TR: Nope.

JR: What’s the big deal?

TR: Our fearless leaders are curled up in the hammock in the backyard, snuggling together like two middle aged bugs in a rug.

JR: Danny sleeps there all the time.

TR: With Steve?

JR: Ah, maybe?

TR: Why haven’t you told me about this? Or taken pics?

JR: Don’t take a pic, that’s mean.

TR: Have you met me? I’ve already taken a dozen.

QL: Share, sister.

TR: In a sec. I’m trying to get a close-up.

LG: They’re not gonna be happy if they catch you.

TR: Got it. Here you go.

TR: [Photo - SteveandDannyhammock.jpg – 9.26.2020]

QL: Aww, so sweet! Look at how Steve is spooning Danny. And Danny looks so darling, like a little angel.

TR: Just like Charlie, right?

QL: Is it really true that his ex didn’t tell him Charlie was his? How could anyone not see it?

LG: Let’s not go there on the group text. Honestly, you people have no sense at all.

JR: Sorry to interrupt – Tani, if you are using this wine to make sangria, I can buy the cheap one that’s on sale, right?

TR: Junior, how can you be talking about wine at a time like this?

JR: I’m buying the cheap one.

TR: Wait, I think they might be waking up.

LG: I’m telling you, maintain a safe distance. Like maybe from the north shore.

TR: False alarm. Not awake. Danny just turned over and shoved his face into Steve’s neck.

QL: That doesn’t sound very nice.

TR: Not shoved. Maybe nuzzled. Yeah, there’s definitely nuzzling going on.

QL: Oooh, back to sweet again.

TR: They’re shifting a bit. Danny’s wrapping his arms around Steve like a mama bear protecting her overgrown cub.

QL: Maybe Steve was having a bad dream?

LG: Tani, leave them alone.

TR: Come on, I’m not doing any harm. Anyway, I don’t think it was nearly as romantic as all that. Turns out Danny was just trying to get to his phone.

DW: You guys all suck. We were just taking a nap.

LG: Naps are important when you reach a certain age.

DW: Fuck off, Steve had a rough day.

TR: Is he okay?

DW: Just sore, he’ll be fine.

TR: I know this is the group text and all, but that sounded really dirty.

DW: You never stop, do you?

QL: Someone had to say it.

DW: He’s sore from running, idiots. And maybe a little embarrassed.

TR: About running?

DW: He and Grace did the trail out to Makapuu Point, and she kind of kicked his ass.

LG: How’s that girl doing? Will we see her tonight?

DW: Sadly, no, she’s at Rachel’s now, and she’s heading back to school tomorrow.

TR: I get it, you had the place to yourself. Hence the adorable hammock time.

DW: Tani, I can’t help but point that that you have chosen to hide in the house and text me instead of saying these things to my face.

TR: Just trying to give you your privacy.

DW: A little late for that, no? How many pictures did you take?

QL: She absolutely did not send me fifteen pictures of you and Steve snuggling.

DW: Text me the best ones, would you? Steve never lets me take pictures of him.

QL: Aww.

TR: Aww.

GL: Aww.

JR: Danny, is white rum okay?

TR: Junior, you are no fun at all. And no amount of talk about pina coladas is going to distract us from the overwhelming cuteness of McDanno.

DW: You’re lucky you didn’t get here earlier, it wasn’t exactly safe for work. By the way, Tani, what have I told you about getting here early?

TR: There may have been something about at your own risk, but what can I say, I’m a risk taker.

DW: Junior, did you not tell her the story about the whipped cream?

JR: No sir, I did not.

TR: Junior, what story? How did you not tell me?

QL: I can hear Tani whining even in text. That’s amazing.

JR: There is no story, and if there was a story, it would be classified.

DW: But the moral of the story is don’t get here early. Capisce?

LG: He’s warming up the godfather act. Tani, better step away.

TR: Don’t worry, I’m hiding inside with Eddie.

DW: Good strategy.

TR: I can still see you though, so

…

QL: You still there?

TR: Give me a sec.

JR: Is everything okay?

TR: Yes, I just couldn’t breathe from laughing my ass off.

QL: What happened?

TR: Steve woke up and tried to take Danny’s phone. Danny tried to keep it away from him. Things got a little rocky.

QL: Uh oh.

TR: Yeah. Let’s just say they didn’t exactly land the dismount.

LG: Everyone okay?

TR: Steve’s sitting on the ground holding his head and glaring at Danny. Danny looks like he can’t make up his mind whether to punch Steve or try to kiss it better.

QL: Go for the kiss, Danny. It’ll make a cuter picture.

TR: I don’t think he saw your text, but he’s taking your advice anyway.

QL: Aw.

TR: Yeah. Damn cute. And now they’re just curled up on the grass with Steve’s head in Danny’s lap. I think Danny is making sure Steve’s skull isn’t cracked. Or petting him. Possibly both.

JR: So they’re okay, right?

TR: Of course they’re okay. They just fell out of a hammock, not an airplane.

DW: Junior, are you still at the liquor store?

JR: Yes. Anything else you want to add to the list?

DW: Ice.

#McDanno #H50 #Hawaii Five-O #H50 fic #Danny Williams #Steve McGarrett #Snuggles and Hammocks Discord Challenge

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nostalgiaispeace · 4 years ago

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2069.

Post Office: When’s the last time that you mailed a letter or a package to someone, and who was it to? idk

Library: The last book that you checked out from the library? idk

Veterinarian: What was your pet’s last visit concerning? to get spayed

Pet Store: Which animals do you tend to go check out first? i don’t go to pet stores

Drugstore: Last medication or item that you picked out from here? tums

Grocery Store: Do you usually have a big list or a small list when you go? small

Church: Do you attend church every Sunday? Do you believe in God? no and yes

Bank: How much was the last check you deposited? How about the last amount that you took out? idk

Hospital: Have you ever been admitted into the emergency room? For what? yes, many different things

Doctor’s Office: What was the last doctor’s appointment that you had? Which type of a doctor? glucose test and baby check up; ob

Police Station: Have you ever been arrested before? Ridden in the back of a police car? no

Fire Station: Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? no

School: When did you graduate high school? 2009

Gas Station: How much gas can fit in your gas tank? 12 i think

Mechanics: Does your vehicle break down a lot? no

Clothing Store: What’s the last clothing item you bought from a store, and which store was it? i’m not sure

Bookstore: Do you prefer to get your books new or used? doesn’t matter

Coffee Shop/Cafe: What do you typically order when you go here? i don’t go there

Fast Food Restaurant: What are a few of your favorites? chick fil a

Sit-Down Restaurant: What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated? idk

Dentist: Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? yes and yes and yes and yes

Movie Theater: Last movie you saw in theaters before the pandemic hit? knives out

Art Gallery: Which art forms do you appreciate the most? film

Zoo: What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? big cats

Aquarium: Favorite kind of fish? ew none

Museum: What kinds of artifacts fascinate you? all kinds

Amusement Park: Favorite ride to go on? none

Courthouse: Have you ever gone to court before? yes

Hotel/Motel: Where were you, the last time you stayed at a hotel? ohio

Club: What is the last song that you danced to? idk

Bar: What’s your favorite alcoholic drink? pina colada

County Jail: Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? no

Airport: Are you more likely to fly in an airplane, or pick people up/drop them off at the airport? either

Train Station: Have you ever ridden a train before? yes

Concert Venue: What’s the last concert you saw? lana del rey

Sports Arena: Which sporting event would you be most likely to sit through? gymnastics

[bionic-beth]

#me #survey

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celestica-1988 · 5 years ago

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The sound of the wind

Paring: Mick Mars x Female Reader.

Warning: fluff?

Mick has never been an anxious person, but since the cab left the flat he shared with Vince, Tommy and Nikki a storm of question invaded his mind.

What if the terror twins find funny to set the house on fire?

What if Vince and his dick scored and made a girl pregnant?

What if Tommy and Nikki will become dads too?

A terrible headache was forming like someone put a circle of metal around his head and kept squeeze it.

Shut the fuck up, he said to himself.

When I’ll be back the house will be still there, there won’t be tree manchildren ready or not to become dads.

No.

Everything will be all right, it was time to switch from Mick, the momma to the old and dear loud and aggressive guitarist ready to kick everyone’s ass.

He arrived at the airport, he entered it and in two hours he was in an airplane directed to the Hawaii, he booked a room in an hotel in a town some miles away from Honolulu to be quiet and not spent too much.

He though it was a good idea, but now he wasn’t so convinced, San Diego was away from LA, had the sea and was nearer if something happens and most of all he could go there with his car.

The hostess clearly disapproved his habits with vodka. When he bought a whole bottle he watched him disgusted like he was an old alcohol addict.

Mick gave her the “shut the fuck up, bitch!” glares and gave a sip to his vodka.

Since then they ignored each other.

What a wonderful beginning, said Mick to himself.

Finally the plane landed, the sun was shining, it was way too hot and full of people for Mick’s tastes, but it ignored it and grabbed his suitcases, the he froze.

There were some girl with flowers crowns and necklaces to place on tourists, no way in hell he would have them on him.

He looked around panicked, there were no other exit, flowers or stay two weeks in the airport.

Reluctantly he chose the flowers, he approached a girl and tried in every way to make her understand that, although flowers were nice, he didn’t want them. The girl smiled, but ignored him and put it a crown of flowers in his head and a necklace.

The poor guitarist was ashamed as hell when he exited the airport and look for a cab to take at him at his hotel, luckily the taxi driver didn’t say anything, probably used to tourist unhappy with flowers.

During the drive his thoughts raced to Los Angels more than usual and then he wanted to. He repeated firmly to himself that his bandmates were tree adults, able to take care of themselves.

He arrived at the hotel, he was small but nice, with two many light colors, but what was he waiting?

He wasn’t in a dark castle in Transylvania.

He took his luggage and went to the hall.

“Good morning, I booked a room at Deal’s name.”

“Yes, here it is. Can you give me your ID, mister Deal?”

He nodded and when all the papers were filled he went in his room, small but nice, with a terrace on the ocean. He arranged his clothes in the wardrobe and then sit on the bed.

What could he do?

Maybe he could go to the swimming pool, he wore a black short as bath suit, took the necessary and he started his first day of vacation.

He chose the more shadowed beach chair and umbrella and laid on it with his arm crossed on his chest. He knew it was an unusual position to rest, but not so much. He realized how he was wrong he was when every kid who saw him pointed the finger at him.

“Mum, look at this man.”

“Stop it, it’s rude!”

But also the mother look was judgmental at her best.

It would be a long long vacation

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

You didn’t know why do you chose Hawaii as a place for your vacation.

It wasn’t so different from your country, Jamaica, but the wind told you to go there and you listen to the wind because you were a daughter of nature.

You found a nice hotel some miles away from the capital of the Hawaii and you stopped there. It had everything: comfortable rooms, good cooking, next to the sea and with a pool.

It was time to go to the swimming pool (you preferred the sea in the morning and the pool in the afternoon) and you sighted.

You were proud to be Jamaican, you were proud to be black, but you were also a goth.

Your secret wish was to have a proper white skin, white as porcelain and you feel a little guilt for it.

Whatever, you said.

You put on a costume, took your bag and left the room. When you reached the swimming pool you frowned, your favorite chair was already taken by a man. He was older than you and rested with his hands crossed on the chest. Was he vampire?

Shrugging your shoulder you walked towards him and sat on the chair next to him, you laid in silence, but after a while you got annoyed: Dracula didn’t take his eyes out of you.

“Never saw a black girl before?”

You spat aggressively.

“I never saw a goth black girl before.”

His voice was calm and soothing.

“How do you know I’m a goth?” “Black clothes, chose on of the most shadowed chair, skin as pale as possible.

I just connected the dots, kid.”

“I have a name, oldie.” He laughed sarcastically.

“I’m Mick, kid.”

“I’m Y/N, oldie.”

“Cool, now enough with human interaction.

Bye, Y/N!” The man stopped to look at you and after five second you heard him snore.

You shook your head and got up. You stretched your body and walked towards the swimming pool.

Maybe this time the wind made a mistake, your paintings were average and the only person who talked to you was that weird Dracula.

You jumped into the pool and swam lazily, you were not the one who hurried things, and you were sure that sometimes the man was still looking at you.

You couldn’t decide if it was flattering or creepy.

At dinner time you showed in the room with your favorite black dress, a waitress stopped you, she seems quite embarrassed.

“Miss Y/S, I’m really sorry to ask you that, but could you share the table with mister Deal?

It will be just temporary, we are out of tables.”

“It’s okay. No problems, I will meet new people.” The waitress seemed relieved.

You walked to you table and gasped: mister Deal was that Dracula man.

“Here we go again, goth kid.”

“My name is Y/N, mister Deal.”

You said slow and clear the surname of the man.

“Call me Mick Mars, cut with this bullshit.”

You sat and looked at him suspicious.

“What’s your real name?” “Deal, Mick Mars is my stage name and I prefer to be called this way.

“Stage name? Are you in a band or something?” “I’m in a band. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Jamaica, but I currently live in LA. I’m a wannabee artist.” “I see.”

The man stayed in silence for a while, until when the waitress was serving you dinner.

“Never been to the Sunset Strip?” You shook your head, your roommate tried hundreds of times to convince to go there, but you refused because it was loud and messy for you.

“No.” “Next time you are in the city, come to the Sunset Strip and look for a band called Mötley Crüe, you will find me shredding on my guitar.” “Motley Crue? My roommate always said she would like to be railed by the bassist, Mikki Sex?”

Mick started to laugh and you realized what the hell you just said, you would gladly leave the room if the second course of the meal wasn’t arrived. You felt like a perfect idiot, so you froze in the position of a queen on her throne.

“Ah, that Nikki Six bitch! The girls always hitting on him.

Another one that wanna be reailed by that motherfucker.”

The second course came –fish – you ate it so fast that you risked seriously to choke, then left as fast as you can. Thanks to your big fat mouth you did another dick figure, you would never found again the guts to sit with Mick Mars again.

After walking for some times aimlessly, you decided to stop in a bar and ordered a pina colada, you loved coconut since you were a kid.

After some minutes someone sat to the stool next to yours, you didn’t mind but you weren’t in the right mood to chat with a stranger.

“Oh, here we go again Y/N. It’s a pity that you ran away, the dessert was really good.”

You froze: it was Mick Mars.

“Hi, M-M-Mick.”

You stuttered red as a dark tomato.

“What’s gotten into you suddenly?”

“It’s just the story of my friend I told you.” You whispered in a very low tone of voice.

“That? The guys are used to it and they are happy. If your friends is pretty she surely would be railed by those animals. No need to be ashamed.” “It’s just sometimes I say the dumbest shit I could say.” “You can’t be worse than Tommy.” You smiled shyly.

After all maybe you can be friends with the L.A vampire.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

The day passed and you and Mick were inseparable.

You walk around the little town and the nature that surrounded the place, you drove together in the swimming in pool and one time you dragged him to the sea.

It was the only time you used some sort of violence on him, when he was an inch away from the water you watched him. Your smiled faded via at the view of him in pain.

“What’s up?” You asked to him, leaving his les and kneels next to him.

“It’ my back. I suffer from ankylosing spondylitis. It is a type of arthritis in which there is a long-term inflammation of the joints of the spine.[2] Typically the joints where the spine joins the pelvis are also affected. I always had back sore. Stiffness of the affected joints generally worsens over time. I’ve been diagnosed it at seventeen.” “I’m really sorry, Mick. I would never do that if I knew it.” You two came back to your “studio”. It was a simple blanket placed in the shadows of a group of palms where there were your colors, your brushes and an easel.

Since you met Mick you found new energy and inspiration so you wanted him around. Usually you painted places of the islands but in a post-apocalyptic way.

“Y/N, why do you need me so much when you paint?”

He chuckled the guitarist.

“Because you are my inspiration.”

“So if your painting are so dark it’s because of me.

I don’t know if feel flattered to it or scared.” “Why scared? One day we’ll exploit the heart till this paintings will be reality.”

You would also made a portrait of him but you were way to shy to ask him.

“As inspiration I want to be paid, do me a portrait.” “It’s okay.” You just finished a painting, so you’ll grin.

“Come on, mister Mars. Go in front of me and let’s started this portrait.”

For a minute he was surprised than he did what you jokingly ordered to him.

He was a sexy man with long black hair, blue eyes and a hint of moustache and beard, and that cigarette made him even sexier.

You had to put all concentration in painting every particular of him instead of what you could do in your bedroom.

It took so long that you thought that after all you would give up an took him to you room and do a lot of bad things. You didn’t know how but you found yourself in love with Mick.

Oh, shit.

………………………………..

The day before you left you found the courage of tell him everything, but in your own way.

You wore Mick’s favorite bikini and put everything you need in a bag, sighting you left your room.

You knocked at Mick’s one who looked you surprised and – you could swear on your mother – a hint of desire.

“Hey, weirdo. Why are you here?”

“Midnight bath!” “No way!”

“Come on! Tomorrow I must leave to come back to Los Angeles.”

He sighted.

“Ok, let’s go.”

“No bath suit?” “This short will be okay.” You run out of the hotel laughing like you were children.

Once you arrived at the beach, you dropped the bag and ran towards the ocean, Mick was next to you.

You swam for a while than stopped and spread legs and arms letting the movements of the waves caressed you.

The sky was beautiful, so full of stars that looked like shining diamonds.

“Woah! That’s place is beautiful.”

Said Mick.

“Well, I brought you there to tell you a thing.

I felt in love with you, Mick.” For a moment there was just the sound of the wind.

“How can a girl like you love a man like me, with my disease?” “I don’t know and I don’t care.

Do- Do you love me back?”

You asked, scared to be rejected.

Mick swam next to you, put you in his arm for a long hug and then looked you in the eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.” Than you kissed passionately so many times till the back of Mick let you.

Than you came back in your original position except Mick’s hand was locked to yours.

“Mick…” “Yea, baby?” “When I will be back in L.A I will go to the Sunset Strip, I wanna find you there.”

“The day after tomorrow I will leave too and you will find me.”

“So, let’s meet in Los Angeles.” You both nodded and kissed slowly.

In the sky the star kept shining.

#The Dirt #the dirt fanfic #the dirt imagine #mick mars #the dirt!mick mars

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thegoods · 6 years ago

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THE FRENCH QUARTER

I can literally drink anywhere except for church. *In my finest nawlins accent* “I’m home bebb-beh” Lol The trip I took to New Orleans, Louisiana was everything I knew I needed. From my first plane ride, the bomb ass Airbnb, the company, the street art, the hospitality and Jesus the food-- I felt so alive! Yes I lost my airplane virginity to New Orleans and I’ll keep going back for more! I loved every bit of the flight experience. The take off startled me but I fell in love with the clouds. Flying makes me feel so appreciative and blessed. Oh and those biscoff cookies were bomb! A few hours and a layover later Me & 2 good friends were ready for all that NOLA had to offer us. All thanks to our “planner committee” we hit up all the local spots to make sure we got the full taste of the Bayou. My favorite, my diet breaker... MORROWS! Y’all a huge shout out to Larry Morrow. He knew what the fuck was up with this one! The attention to detail, the menu, the customer service, the location, and when I tell you EVERY staff member was attractive! (blew my mind) Our modern, minimalistic loft was right above his restaurant and every morning we were awaken by his staff prepping for the day while simultaneously blasting Anita Baker (which was no bother to us) it was our Vacation alarm clock. #morrowofthestory is... WHEN you visit NOLA Morrows is a MUST STOP. Ask any celebrity! Oh and order the strawberry mimosa(S) and the chicken Alfredo good lord! Next stop... Cafe Du Monde for BENGINETS. There’s literally like 4 things on the Menu: Water, Tea, Chalk coffee (best coffee I’ve ever had) and Benginets. Relatively cheap for Nola but it’s always packed night or day! For good reason, yet another well worth it diet breaker. Another honorable mention is Willie Mae's Scotch House-- make sure you get the mac and cheese and yams. Depending on when you go, there can be a line outside of the small restaurant and the wait can be up to 2 hours! The 3 of us opted to take an uber everywhere and split the costs however. Of course depending on where you decide to store your luggage that may or may not be necessary but ubers were relative cheap as well even late night trips to bourbon street. THAT LITERALLY NEVER SLEEPS. Heads up! — LADIES DO NOT WEAR HEELS, Hell some sandals should be off limits too. Bourbon street is NOT the place for heels or uncomfortable shoes. Between the police horse shit, the for sure vomit, potential piss and spilled.. I mean wasted alcohol lol your shoes just won’t make it and neither will you. However if you wanna be a baby giraffe who am I to stop ya? I literally wore Vans the entire trip and had the time of my life. We spent every night of our 4 day trip on Bourbon street and each night was better that the night before. Thousands of people from all walks of life happily bonding over alcohol just warmed my heart. Did I mention we went during decadence? Which is basically pride for men only. We had no idea it was the same weekend we went but it was so much fun. The drags, the harnesses, the energy, the butt naked confidence again warmed my heart. All the clubs on Bourbon St were diverse and played top 40. Oh and before I forget— when you’ve had too many hurricanes from Fat Tuesday or one too many Grenades (trust me you will) the ultimate 3 am un-fuck yourself pre-hangover cure is Willie’s Chicken-- Also found on Bourbon Street. We didn’t take the trolley like we planned because we were so busy getting day drunk in our Airbnb that we always missed the pickups but we heard good things about it lol. We did make it to the French Market which is full of vendors selling clothes, trinkets, food, ALCOHOL, touristy things, you name it. Make sure you bring cash money though— a lot of the vendors don’t accept debit/credit. Do yourself a favor and get roasted street corn and a pina colada from Organic Banana to wash it down because who drinks water in NOLA!?! Did I mention that there are full blown liquor stores inside of WALMART? Besides shopping you can literally just walk around, mingle with the locals, and sight see for the free. Just about every corner is photo worthy. The Street performers are mad talented so make sure you tip them! I'm sure I’m leaving things out but no matter what I say it won’t do New Orleans any justice. It’s a place you have to visit and experience for yourself. There was not one place I went that I felt uncomfortable or stuck out like a sore thumb. When I tell you Nola’s vibe is so welcoming I mean it. You’re only doing yourself a disservice by not adding it to your vacation bucket list. I bet you can’t go just once.

#neworleans #travelblog #travel #morrows #bourbonstreet #nola #cafedumonde #benginets #judgethisblog #shadeteacoffee #frenchquarter #frenchmarket #morrowofthestory #fattuesday #mardigras #decadance

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gvbejvmesmichaels · 2 years ago

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This or That

Below the cut. :)

This or That: Travel Addition

Airplanes

Hotel

Beach

Mountains

Relaxing

Local Street Food

Hot air balloon

Resort

Quiet Nights

Cozy cabin

Glamping

This or That: Vacation Edition

Sun set

Pina colada

Ocean

Hotel

Relax

Couples trip

Rent a car

Wing it

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leafsandrepeat · 7 years ago

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The Leafs As Classic Songs

Zach Hyman: Simple Man (Lynyrd Skynyrd)

Auston Matthews: Don’t Stop Me Now (Queen)

William Nylander: Dancing Queen (ABBA)

Patrick Marleau: Cat’s In The Cradle (Harry Chapin)

Nazem Kadri: Sympathy For The Devil (The Rolling Stones)

Mitch Marner: Mr. Blue Sky (Electric Light Orchestra)

James van Riemsdyk: Moneytalks (AC/DC)

Tyler Bozak: Hello, Goodbye (The Beatles)

Connor Brown: Eternal Flame (The Bangles)

Andreas Johnsson: More Than A Feeling (Boston)

Tomas Plekanec: Welcome To The Jungle (Guns N’ Roses)

Kasperi Kapanen: Break My Stride (Matthew Wilder)

Leo Komarov: Kiss (Prince)

Josh Leivo: Don’t You (Forget About Me) (Simple Minds)

Matt Martin: Should I Stay Or Should I Go (The Clash)

Dominic Moore: Candle In The Wind (Elton John)

Morgan Rielly: In The Air Tonight (Phil Collins)

Ron Hainsey: Piano Man (Billy Joel)

Jake Gardiner: White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane)

Nikita Zaitsev: I’m Still Standing (Elton John)

Travis Dermott: Carry On Wayward Son (Kansas)

Connor Carrick: Escape (The Pina Colada Song) (Rupert Holmes)

Roman Polak: Bad To The Bone (George Thorogood & The Destroyers)

Frederik Andersen: Immigrant Song (Led Zeppelin)

Curtis MacElhinney: It’s My Life (Bon Jovi)

#happy to explain if necessary :p #tml #leafs #nhl #hockey players as songs #would be a good playlist tbh #mostly a joke but sort of not #i want you to picture that drum solo as you read rielly's #maple leafs

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dizzygirlfriday · 3 years ago

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notes of a restless girl. (old babbles)

When is full on yoga gear appropriate to wear in an office setting?

Last time I checked I think never. I mean I know it’s casual Friday, but it’s like nice jeans and a shirt. Not thigh high yoga pants and gym bras… People surprise me all the time.

Sandals Resort is always sending me emails… Soon I’m taking them up on their Barbados offer. Then I will be tipping my pina colada glass with a polka dot umbrella to all you folk in my string bikini… “Hey wish you were her…”

Sometimes I think I only have two speeds, extreme and extreme power wash...

Seeking validation and our insecurities. I think I can write a book on this.

I have a very caring heart, although often times it resides within a tough, capable, seemingly impenetrable exterior.

I can be a fucking blind optimist as well. When you feel yourself losing control of your morals, of your beliefs, or anything else you have… say like your dignity, it’s time to jump out of the airplane. Just make sure you have a parachute, because you don’t want to die, you want to land on your feet and look up at that plane and say: I made it, I fucking made it. We being me, may be going through things, sorting out details, but no one and I mean no one should make you feel like you’re a lost cause… when you reach out to that friend. Feeling vulnerable yesterday, like a creep.

Bare bones….

Ugh, I’m so not myself. I was trying to put something on our website for work, and I couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t work. It was still in word format and not pdf … WTF? Hello it is Friday. My brain has simply taken the 4th off today.

Sometimes a whole pot of coffee is in order even for a Friday!

Oh, and watch “Gone Girl” … it’s creepy!! That is all.

Just to come clean to a few of my peeps… Yes I was one of those girls that use to do the Jane Fonda workouts.

#Ugh I can't believe it #Le'ts get physical physical... that was Olivia Newton John

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anyway-i-love-vanderwood · 7 years ago

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RFA - Proposals!

✿ This is for @salarinnar, who wrote,

Hello! I love your writing style so I thought I'd donate! How about MC asking the RFA + the minor trio to marry her? With all that getting on one knee and giving them a proposal ring jazz. Bless u.:)

Thanks so much! I actually did the minor trio proposing to MC awhile ago here, so here’s the rest of the RFA!

(If you’d like a guaranteed request fill, but me a coffee on my Ko-Fi!

Yoosung

His mother puts the idea in his head, asking him when he’s finally going to propose to that lovely person he’s been seeing for so long. Yoosung swallows, nervous – it’s not that he doesn’t’ want to marry you. In fact, he’s looking forward to it, and often daydreams about having a happily married existence like his own parents share. But… he’s just…

Worried. He’s scared that he won’t be the right kind of guy for you, and he’s worried that you’ve changed your mind and don’t love him as much as he loves you.

So he frets. He asks his mom about how his father proposed, he asks his LOLOL friends how they proposed – hell, he asks V how he proposed, being so desperate to get input that he’ll put aside his own feelings for the man.

He gets a variety of answers, files them away, and keeps thinking.

When he takes you out to romantic movies, he watches your reaction to the lovey-dovey scenes carefully, taking inspiration from what you say about how the characters handle their own proposals. He reads books, he browses forum threads… and he thinks and overthinks the matter, trying to figure out how to best ask for your hand.

Yoosung gets the ring while he’s STILL not sure how to propose to you, and as he’s walking home from the store, he gets a panicked call on his cell.

You’ve found a baby bird and it’s broken it’s WING and YOOSUNG HELP you DON’T’ WANT IT TO DIE, PLEASE COME QUICKLY.

(you’re crying, and so he runs.)

Using his veterinarian skills, Yoosung helps you save the bird’s life, and you’re just so… happy and thankful and you hug him, telling him that he’s the best, and Yoosung falls in love with you all over again. You’re so kind! You’re so gentle! You’re so loving!

You’re so kind to everyone, even the smallest of animals, and on complete impulse, he gets on one knee and busts out his newly acquired ring.

It’s poorly thought out. It’s spur-of-the-moment. But he’ll never forget the way you light up and hug him, saying “yes!” over and over.

The two of you laugh about it afterwards, and decide that was probably the most memorable way it could have happened.

Zen

Zen knows you are completely and entirely perfect and, therefore, he knows that his proposal to you needs to be completely and entirely perfect in return. How he achieves this Holy Grail of Marital Intent, though, is a matter of some internal debate.

He considers going to stereotypical route of wining and dining you, but that’s a.) not really very him and b.) he can’t think of any restaurant that matches up to the vivacity that is you. Besides, he’s not really on-the-ball on the whole… restaurant scene, being that he’s a loser who can barely keep anything more than beer in his fridge.

He also considers surprising you on a date, like – at the zoo, or the aquarium. Or maybe on television in front of thousands during one of his on-screen appearances? But then it’s pointed out to him that, oops, a public proposal basically pressures you into saying yes, doesn’t it? And, if you do say no, it’d open you up to the onslaught of thousands of his angry fans.

No. He wants this to be between you and him, where you make a decision about your future that he’ll respect and appreciate either way… so he thinks more, and decides to go back to the roots of your early relationship.

He decides to take you stargazing.

Zen parks his motorcycle in front of your apartment one night, furiously texting you and begging you to come outside for an impromptu date. He already kind of checked to make sure you didn’t have anything planned, but he’s still over the moon when you a.) don’t get mad he rolled up the street at 11PM and b.) he hadn’t given you any notice.

(he thought it would be more romantic like that.)

You come outside to find him with a picnic basket strapped to the back of his motorcycle and a big smile on his face, and shaking your head, you get on behind him and let him take you on whatever wacky adventure he has planned.

He takes you up to your special place in the mountains, his jacket protecting your body from the cold and his back shielding your face. You have your arms around him, and you’ve never felt someone’s warmth as intently as in that moment.

The basket is full of all of your favorite foods, no matter how ‘dumb’ and ‘unromantic’ they are. Do you get all of your nutritional content from potato chips? That is ok, Zen has packed all the best flavors. There’s also a blanket, which he spreads out for you, and you lie back and look at the perfectly clear, beautifully expansive sky.

You and Zen talk for awhile, pointing out constellations and making your own, when he gets quiet and reaches into his pocket for something. He starts talking about how big the world is, and how happy he found you – you’re like his north star in the darkness of the night. And then he turns on his side, opening the box and looking at you with complete and total sincerity.

Will you marry him? He asks, with only the chirping crickets and the sound of the wind for company.

Of course you say yes. How could you not? And when you put the diamond on your finger, you reach out to touch the sky, and admire how the stone looks like one of those stars glimmering above.

Jaehee

Jaehee takes you to the aquarium.

It’s an atypical spot, which makes since given that she’s an atypical woman. You’re kind of expecting that Jaehee is going to pop the question sometime soon, as she’s been asking about your feelings regarding the future, settling down, etc, but when she invites you out that cool, rainy Saturday, you don’t really expect it’s going to happen then.

She does it near the end of the day, after she’s taken you to the dolphin show and endured you stopping at every exhibit and pointing out which fish represented which members of the RFA. (She bust a gut laughing when you said the flounder was Jumin.) You’ve already had lunch, and are thinking about going when you stop in the shark room, which is more of a tunnel than a room, really. The walls are completely made of glass and, all around you, you can an awe-inspiring assortment of fish swimming around you (and above you!) in a mysterious room lit by an ethereal blue glow.

You find an empty spot to stand, and you press your hands against the glass, completely entranced. Jaehee watches your profile, and then taps twice on your shoulder, sinking onto one knee when you look down at her.

She tells you, as she presents a ring to you in the dim light, that her entire life… she’s felt like she’s been living in a fish-tank. Confined, restrained, where she’s just been surviving under people’s apathetic gazes. She’s never felt like she could explore. Never felt like she could go on an adventure, because her entire world was defined by walls of unbreakable glass.

…Until she met you.

Now she believes in things. Now she dreams. Now she smiles, laughs, and no longer feels like she’s just some specimen kept behind a cold, unfeeling wall. And – no matter what you say, yes or no – that knowledge will always stay with her.

Will you… accompany her beyond the glass walls you’ve helped her shatter? Together?

(In the flickering, wavering light, you smile as wide as the sun and say, yes.)

Jumin

It takes a little bit for Jumin to propose, and before he does so, he takes you on a whirlwind tour of the globe using his private jet and vast amounts of money.

You eat baguettes in France. You see the architecture of Prague. He takes you on a tour of the castles of Scotland, and says that one day, he’d like to build one for Elizabeth the III. You go see the mountains of Iceland and the parks of Oslo, the beaches of Bermuda and see the sunset off the coast of Fiji. You sip margaritas, daiquiris, and pina coladas, you go horseback riding, you take pottery classes with Jumin and laugh as you make mistakes.

You go to art exhibits. Concerts. You go to parties and meet people, and you drag Jumin out on forest hikes in the dim, lonely woods. You see snow, rain, sunshine, you go to street markets and film festivals – you even go fishing with him and watch him pay a five-star chef to prepare what he caught into a delectable dish for the local catlife.

The two of you go to Istanbul, a land famous for its large population of street cats, and Jumin is content in a land that’s devoted to his favorite feline friends.

And… at the end of it, on a quiet, deserted beach at the end of the day, he pops the question.

He wanted you to see the world before he asked you to marry him, because he doesn’t want you to ever feel confined when you’re with him. He wanted you to know what’s out there before you settled down, and now that you’ve gotten a taste of so much the earth has to offer…

Do you want to stay with him still?

You say yes, saying that – while travelling was fun – it wouldn’t have been half as amazing without him there by your side. Wanting to go feed cats, falling off his horse, sharing food with him and laughing… The world’s amazing, yes, but it’s twice as amazing when you get to experience it with him.

For once in his life, Jumin is chosen because he is him, and because he made your travels worthwhile… and he smiles, thanking God once more that he got a chance to experience what life is like with you.

Seven

This man has an entire notebook full of ideas on how to propose to you.

There are so many good options! In the climactic moment of an epic laser-gun battle? Waved in the sky on the banner of a sport-class airplane? Using a small army of drones? Via youtube video? Oh man, he could do the classic “write it using the high-scores on an arcade machine”… but is that too cliché, by this point?

He only gets one chance to propose, so he should make it th-

Wait.

Who, exactly, said he had only one chance to propose?

(Seven sits down and begins to imagine the possibilities.)

He launches off the 2017 “War of Proposals” through a singing telegram delivered by a man cosplaying as Starshine Nyah-Nyah (from your favorite magical girl anime). Said war is a contest of strength, skill, and one-uppmanship, where the both of you compete to give the other more elaborate and unexpected proposals until one of you emerges the victor – and is allowed to have the “canon” one true proposal.

HELL YES, you say, and begin to plot.

You propose to him at the pool, by getting a dance studio to perform a choreographed routine in the water which ends up spelling out, “Please marry me!”

He proposes to you in the movie theatre, where he rents out adspace that he uses to play a video he’s constructed where he waxes eloquent about how amazing you are.

You propose to him in the air and space museum, where you drop out of one of the airplanes with an explosion of balloons and the words, “Seven, will you marry me?” emblazoned on your face like war paint.

He proposes to you by paying a bunch of newbies in LOLOL to die with their corpses spelling out “Will you spend your life with me?”

You continue to trade blows like this for an entire month. Television, radio, the internet – everywhere, there are traces of your continual war. It isn’t until he takes you on a trip to New York and then hacks into the Time Square billboards to deliver his heartfelt and impassioned request that he finally wins, because you cannot think of a way to one-up that.

You do, however, help Seven evade the cops after that, which he is content to call a “draw” in the end.

(The two of you were so busy plotting that neither actually bought a ring, so you go to the jewelry store and chose matching ones together.)

#mysme #mysme headcanons #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme reactions #mystic messenger reactions #mysme imagines #mystic messenger imagines #long post #mystic messenger spoilers #mysme spoilers #yoosung kim #jumin han #707 #seven #luciel choi #jaehee kang #zen

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