'this is the person i spend all day every day with'

2

【Non-No Magazine January 2018】 100 answers from BTS - J-HOPE & Group’s part

Q60: Favorite BTS choreography? 
A: ‘Save Me’ and 'DNA’. The dance break in Save Me’s chorus’s House step moves are very cool. My sister said she likes this song’s choreography the most (laughs). As for 'DNA’, I think among BTS choreography, this choreography is one of the best, it’s perfectly choreographed. 

Q61: What do you think about when you’re performing?
A: The intensity of my facial expression and movement. I’d think over the details on how to express the atmosphere of the song. 

Q62: A song that would make you want to dance if you hear it right now?
A: Post Malone feat. 21 Savage’s 'Rockstar’. 

Q88: A place that you want to travel to again? 
A: Sapporo. Although we’ve been there a few times to perform but I definitely want to go visit in private. My dream is to enjoy the hot spring in the middle of the snowy scenery!

Q89: How do you spend your time on public transport?
A: When I want to sleep, I would watch some movies, it depends on the time and mood. From May to July, when when we flied from Korea to Japan, I composed melodies and wrote lyrics on the plane. 

Q90: The food that you would definitely want to eat when you’re in Japan? 
A: Ramen and meat cuisine. I also love eating ‘ひつまぶし’ (chopped kabayaki eel on rice)! 

Q91: Secret of having a beautiful smile? 
A: I’m getting a bit embarrassed to hear this (laughs). Basically, I’m optimistic and I like being fun. Also, I believe that 'smiling will bring you happiness’, maybe that’s why I have such smile.

Q92: What’s your current favorite shoes? 
A: I really like shoes. Recently, I just bought a few pairs of sneakers. I felt in love with one of the pairs straight away, it has a variety of colors and materials! 

Q93: Recently, what kind of scent/ fragrance do you like?
A: Refreshing scent. Recently, I like using the soap with a mint scent.

Q94: Which member do you think is very fashionable? 
A: Rap Monster and V are especially interested in fashion. But the other members have their own style, so they’ve all very cool.

Q95: What sports do you like? 
A: I played tennis from 4th grade to 6th grade of primary school. Although the start of it was a bit weird. My teacher asked in front of the class, “does anyone want to play tennis?” By chance, I had both of my hands out so the teacher misunderstood and then I became a candidate (laughs). I started to play tennis again in the summer, it was refreshing and fun! 

Q96: Your own goal in 2018? 
A: Release the mixtape that I’m preparing (now). And study Japanese. 

Q97: One day, if you could experience another occupation, what do you want to do? 
A: Tennis player! But I wasn’t really good when I practiced in primary school, so competing in Wimbledon, The Championships as a tennis player is just a dream (laughs). 

Q98: Recently, which member made you felt that he has grown (up)?
A: Don’t you think the 20-year-old Jungkook’s face became really refined. When I first saw our 'DNA’ MV (that was released in Korea), I was startled because he was so handsome! 

BTS

Q99: Memorable Christmas memory?

RAP MONSTER: I remember when I was 6 years old and I heard that my family is going to travel during Christmas, so I asked them: “is Santa Claus going to come on time?” Because we were going to the countryside so I was worried (laughs). 

SUGA: When I was a child, my family used to eat together. I’m not living with them right now, so I think those were great memories. 

JIN: When I went to the ski resort with my father and older brother! We went every Christmas when I was in primary school! 

J-HOPE: In the past, it snowed heavily on Christmas, the long-cherished White Christmas! I remember building snowman with my family, bustling with noise and excitement! 

JIMIN: I want to see try to make memorable memory of Christmas in the future. My ideal Christmas has to snow, then have fun in the ski resort and lastly go view the night scenery, that would the best.

V: I think couples celebrate Christmas more, but I’ve always been alone since birth (laughs). During school days, I spent it with my friends who were also single. We went to the PC room, played games, ate ramen and we bluffed like: “as expected, it’s the best to spend Christmas in the PC room.” (laughs)

JUNGKOOK: There was a year, when I was sleeping with my older brother, my eyes were half open and I saw my father with a fake white beard. I thought “Santa Claus really came,” I felt asleep with happiness. 

Q100: As BTS, what do you want to achieve in 2018?

RAP MONSTER: Perform in the biggest venue in each country! 

SUGA: Until now, we’ve achieved a variety of goals. We’re fortunate that all of our wishes became true. But I hope next year we won’t get caught on the results while enjoying the music that we like, and I hope we can spend happy time with everyone.

JIN: Make the music that everyone would like to listen to. In private, I want to enjoy the fun of letting off fireworks with the members (laughs).

J-HOPE: Stand on world-class stage, perform many amazing performances. It’s a goal and a dream. 

JIMIN: Personally, I’m not really concerned about the records. We can achieve those records is because of our fans. But the fact that we can break new records, I’m really grateful and thank you. So, I hope 2018 is a year where we could spend more time with ARMYs.

V: After I’ve watched some Japanese movies, I saw a lot of really beautiful places. I want to go outside of the big cities and perform live there, I want to see those scenery in person. And I want to go and meet more ARMYs!

JUNGKOOK: I hope I can make a great song that is able to be included in a BTS album! I’ll keep take on the challenge.

SUGA; RAP MONSTER; JUNGKOOK; JIN; V; JIMIN

Trans: KIMMYYANG
Scan: myheaven0624

Is anyone out there in internet-land healthy? Like, truly healthy? No mental or physical ailments? A perfectly functioning body and mind?

I am unsure if I know anyone that doesn’t have some health issues. I know a few people who have sporadic illnesses. They get to live most of their lives without too much trouble. I used to be healthy in grade school and most of high school. I got really sick my senior year. I didn’t know it then, but that is when my narcolepsy began. I try to look back on those healthy times and remember what it was like not to be tired. Sadly, I can no longer imagine it. It’s like one of those memories you can almost visualize, but the closer you get, the foggier the image becomes. It’s like your dad saying he likes that movie… “Ya know… with that guy that does the thing. THE MOVIE WITH THE GUY! C’mon, you know the one!” All of my memories of health are exactly like my dad’s movie recollections.

I have no idea what healthy feels like anymore. I wish someone could describe it to me, but I’m not sure it can be expressed in words. What does running full speed feel like? Or trying to jump as high as you can? What about chasing your dog around the yard and actually catching him? (Although Otis is surprisingly quick for a loaf with stumps and Usain Bolt would have trouble catching his wiggly butt.) What does energy feel like? What does waking up refreshed in the morning feel like? What does thinking without brain fog feel like? What about adding two numbers together without a calculator? What does driving feel like? What does meeting a new person in a public setting feel like? Or being nervous talking to a pretty girl you’ve never met? Telling a joke in front of a crowd and getting a laugh? What about taking a group of friends to Denny’s at 2am because it is the only thing open? How does it feel to live? What does a boob feel like? 

I probably shouldn’t have ended on that one. 

Being ill for over 15 years has robbed me of remembering these sensations. I can’t even properly miss them anymore because it feels like they never happened. I know they are all things I’ve done. But if I still have any memory of them, I can only see them like scenes in a movie. The sensation of actually experiencing those things is completely lost. 

A long time ago my fantasy was being a famous comedian with a loving wife, living on a farm where I raised corgis. My best friends and parents would be my neighbors and we’d eat waffles and bacon every morning. Vegan bacon for Katrina. 

Now my only fantasy is just being healthy again. Sometimes I play this cruel game with myself where I think about what I would give to be healthy. A foot? An arm? My hearing? My vision? A boring life where none of my dreams ever come true? 

Sometimes I think about what I would give to be healthy just for one day. And if I was healthy for a day, what I would do with that privilege. 

Most of the time I imagine I would catch the first flight to Florida and spend the day with my best friend, Katrina. She is my favorite person. The most loving platonic relationship I’ve ever had. I haven’t seen her in person for quite a while. We skype every week, but it isn’t the same. If I had one healthy day I would definitely head straight to her. 

In that day, after the world’s longest, squeeziest hug, we would go to Disney World and ride all the rides. See all the attractions. Eat all the junkfood. And as the sun sets, we would rush to the beach so I can see the ocean for the first time. I’d put my arm around her and watch the sun dip beneath the horizon. 

Since Katrina is a lesbian, she knows all the best gay clubs. I know I’m straight, but I’ve been told that gay clubs are far superior to the straight ones. I’d probably have a much better time dancing with all the bears. Bear and bear enthusiasts seem to really love me. They’ve been some of my biggest fans ever since I became popular on tumblr. I sometimes wish I wasn’t so hopelessly straight, because no single group has made me feel as pretty and desired as the bear enthusiasts. I’ve had trouble meeting ladies in my situation but there seem to be a gaggle of gays ready for me if I ever stop being pegged at 0 on the Kinsey Scale. 

I digress. 

As my day of health begins to wear off, I figure I would just snuggle with Katrina and watch episodes of Brooklyn 99 on Netflix. We both really love that show and I can’t imagine a better way to wind down from Disney World, sunsets, and bear dancing. 

I know I’d have to come back to reality, but I feel like with this new experience fresh in my brain, I would be able to refresh my memory on what being healthy is like. I could go back and live in those memories when times are tough. Maybe I could just imagine that day right now. Pretend those are actual memories. Use them as some sort of placebo memories. I don’t know. 

I usually like to wrap up everything I write with a bit of optimism. Sometimes that is harder than it seems. If you are one of those blessed with health and you are wondering what to be thankful for tomorrow, perhaps tell people you are thankful to be illness-free and full of energy. Run really fast and chase a dog. Use your jumping skills to hop a fence. Drive to Denny’s and order mozzarella sticks. If you have a partner, maybe (with consent) squeeze a boob. Report back to me and tell me how it went.  

I will be thankful for Katrina. She is a huge light in my life. Her smile is infectious and whenever I see it I end up smiling as well. She always makes me laugh. We can talk for hours and it’s never enough. We usually have to force each other to end the skype calls and return to our regularly scheduled lives. And even when I am a huge bummer, she still loves me just as much. She accepts me at my happiest and at my bummeriest. So many friends have faded away. Not understanding my illness. Not wanting to put up with the sadness that can surround me at times. In the years that I have known Katrina, our friendship seems to only grow stronger. In sickness and in health less sickness. I can’t imagine my life without her in it. Friendship seems too small a word to describe what we have. (It’s possible we even invented a brand new word to describe our relationship. Which is super corny and mushy and no I will not tell you what it is.) And to all those men out there who think you can’t have a platonic friendship with a woman, you have no idea what you are missing out on. Best “friendzone” ever.    

I am thankful for my friend Ryan. I sometimes go into hermit-mode and may not talk to him as much as I should, but he is always super understanding and doesn’t make me feel guilty for being absent sometimes. He’s always awake at the same weird times I am, and is great to talk to when things are lonely. Our love of technology and scifi has bonded us. He is amazingly generous and my parents love him like another son. He is family as far as I am concerned. I hope that I start feeling better soon so he can visit once again. 

I am thankful for Otis. He was such a serious puppy. I called him my little emo-corg. He was still cute as a button and I loved him to bits, but I was worried my little moody corgi would mope around forever. But eventually his ears perked up and he grew into this wonderful, mischievous, goofy dog. I know I don’t play with him as much since I’ve been in declining health, but he always comes downstairs to check on me. Thankfully my dad is more than happy to throw his fox for him to chase around all day. I can’t prove it, but I sometimes feel like Otis knows what’s going on with my health and does his best to take care of me in his own way. 

And I am super thankful for my parents. They have supported and loved me from day one. They always believed me even when some of the doctors had their doubts. They took me back in when I had to drop out of college. They have never seen me as a burden and they enjoy my company even when I am at my brain foggiest and can’t speak. I’d probably be dead without them and I’m not sure a thousand thank you’s could adequately show my gratitude for that. I love my parents very very much.   

Stroke of Luck- Epilogue

Word count: 3500-ish

Warnings: Fluff <3

Series Summary: Dark highway, middle of the night, a bad boy driving an Impala, and a Damsel in distress. Too cliche? Think again.

A/N: The epilogue is here!! I REALLY hope you guys like it as much as I do <3

This wouldn’t have been possible without the lovely @sdavid09. Thank you for betaing the series. I love you, Shanna! <3

Stunning aesthetic by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. Thank you so much, Kari! This is more than what I deserve <3

Feedback is really REALLY appreciated!

Stroke of luck Masterlist

You knew it was a bad idea. You knew you shouldn’t have trusted Castiel with this the moment you saw him standing there.

You sighed.

“Oh my God, Cas,” you whined, “That is not what I told you to do!”

“But they look so beautiful,” he smiled, and all your annoyance melted away. How could you be angry with him? How could anyone?

Keep reading

bad omen | C4 | sweet pea

Josh and I sat back to back in the living room as Danny flipped through the television channels, head propped up by his arm. I tried to keep steady as I ran my pencil along the paper, defining the jawline. “So he’s really taking her on a date, huh?” I asked absently, hunching over my sketchbook.

Mhm,” Danny replied, stretching out his legs, “Only took him three years to get the balls to ask her out, too.”

I flipped onto my back, shoving my feet into Josh’s lap as I shivered involuntarily, “Cold?” He asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow as he grabbed my foot and added pressure to the sole.

“A little — not too bad, though.” I mused, hugging the sketchbook to my chest.

Danny looked over to where I laid and pulled his brows together, “What’re you drawing?”

“Nothing.” I replied smoothly, offering him an innocent smile. As much as I loved my cousins, I didn’t want them knowing about my fascination with the gang members in our immediate area. Lately, I had occupied my free time musing over their sharp features and obscene styles. I didn’t dare bring the sketchbook to school, moreso opted to studying them from afar.

I had successfully managed to complete my first shift as a waitress at Pop’s without messing up a single order — and had racked up enough tips to start a savings jar, which would hopefully fund my first vehicle purchase. I’d have to get to Canada somehow. I looked down to where Josh sat; his dirty blonde hair was pulled back effortlessly, eyes intently focused on the foot in his hand as he kneaded and worked his thumbs.

“Do I need to tell y’all to get a room?” Dean asked from behind me, wiping his hands on a small towel. I looked up at his tall frame with a warning glare, “I’m kidding.” He sneered, leaning forward to smack me in the stomach with the towel.

Every day went on like this; if I wasn’t working at Pop’s or finishing homework with Bri (also at Pop’s), then I was stuck on the couch with my cousin’s and their friends. I hadn’t bothered learning all of their names — they only came by whenever they had nothing else to do, and even then there only seemed to be one that mattered to either of the boys was Josh. I had at least attempted to play nice with him, even when his persistence had grown from mildly cute to flatout annoying.

I pulled vigorously on my locker, letting out a breath of frustration when it failed to open for the seventh time in a row. Out of all of the things this school really needed funding for, I’m sure lockers were at the bottom of the list and that only further pressed my annoyance.

“Need help?”

Confused, I looked up to where the male stood with his friends. I’d people watched enough to know that the trio of studded leather clad douchebags happened to be a small pack of Ghoulies. The male closest to me was Eddie; he was in my History class. He and SP had a few encounters in the last few days — males being typical males in the fight for dominance over territory I was sure — which had led to Eddie sporting a nasty looking split lip and purple eye.

“I think I’m just gonna leave it.” I said quickly, shooting him a forced smile, “Thanks anyway.”

“Hey, you’re Cal, right? Don’s cousin.” He leaned against the locker next to mine, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

His eyes couldn’t seem to focus clearly on me, almost as though he were trying incredibly hard to keep himself upright. My father had sported the same look on occasion — I didn’t take Eddie to be a heavy day drinker, so I leaned more towards the idea that his head was up in the clouds (figuratively speaking, of course). “I am. What’s it to you?”

“Donny boy and I go way back,” He snickered, looking over his shoulder to where his friends stood. They shared the same knowing look. “How about we take you on a little tour — I’m sure you haven’t had much of a chance to really get to see all of the perks Southside has to offer.”

Perks? I highly doubted that. “Thanks, but I think I’ve pretty much got it all figured out.” I mumbled, fixing my bag onto my shoulder. His tone had indicated he was being entirely suggestive, which I found grotesquely disgusting and cringeworthy.

“C’mon, don’t be a tease little Hobbs.” One of his goonies stepped forward, bracing his hands on my shoulders to hold me steady. I rocked back onto my heels, tightening my arms around my textbook. “Let’s just go have some fun.” He murmured, pulling the corner of his mouth up in a lopsided SP manner — he didn’t look nearly as good — and flashed the silver of the pocket knife hiding in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Part of me wanted to stand up for myself, mutter something about ‘over my dead body’, but there was something so ironic about that phrase and the reality of the situation, I didn’t bother. As much as I could have protested, my arms were tightly secured by the hands of Eddie’s friends. My feet reluctantly moved forward, heels of my boots deafening in the silence of the hall. I looked over my shoulder, eyes frantically looking for a familiar face.

We had made it off the school premises before I bothered speaking again, “I feel like this qualifies as kidnapping.”

I heard Eddie snort unattractively, “You’re not gag-bound and tied; to the outside world, this is completely consensual.”

“Right. Because intimidation didn’t sway the outcome in your favour at all.” I spat, glaring up at his tall frame. “It’s pathetic really — what, you couldn’t convince any other girl to spend some time with you?” I asked, raising a brow in indifference, “Shocker.”

Easy, princess.” He warned angrily, spinning on his heels to face me. “We didn’t want just any girl. We wanted you.”

I narrowed my eyes, ripping my arms out of my captors grips, “Why?” Personally, I didn’t see the gain in taking me specifically. Fresh meat? Maybe. “Because I’m a Hobbs?”

“He likes you.” He mocked me, his voice raising an octave, feigning politeness. “Nobody can seem to figure out why, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

I pulled my brows together, flinching when I accidentally backed up into the tallest of the trio. “Is this about Sweets?” I asked heatedly, gripping the strap of my bag. Confusion — among many other emotions — pulled me in circles. Sweet Pea had made it very, very obvious that he took pleasure in making me incredibly uncomfortable. I hardly doubted that meant he liked me. “You’re delusional.” I shook my head, “It’s the complete opposite.”

“I don’t think it is.” He swayed, taking a step towards me. “But if you’re sure, then I definitely won’t have to worry about backlash for mackin’ on some Serpent slut.”

I pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him back slightly, “Serpent slut?” I repeated, feeling the space in between my eyebrows disappear as the heat crept up under my flesh and into my cheeks. A pet name — perfect.

Eddie’s lips cracked into a wicked grin as he leaned down, tilting his head to the side, “Everyone knows about your little rendezvous with SP, Callie. Whole school’s talkin’ about it.”

I rolled my eyes, “He humiliated me in front of the class — hardly gossip worthy.”

Eddie shook his finger, “Nu uh, princess. A little birdie told me you were seen going into the Whyte Wyrm — that’s Serpent territory. No way anyone in their right mind takes a step into that bar unless they’re getting something outta it.”

My throat tightened involuntarily; what did that mean? Did people think I was really pining after SP? Did they think I was just a junkie looking to fit in with the wrong crowd? I licked my lips, the overwhelming sensation that my chest was caving in on me crawled from my shoulders down, weighing down on my chest. “Funny joke.” I replied dryly.

“Wish I was kidding, toots.” He sighed, standing up right as his hands came up to roughly grip either side of my face, “That’s okay. We’ll make sure to show you a good time —”

“Let her go,” The voice boomed over the empty parking lot; my head snapped to where the voice trailed from, pulling my face out of Eddie’s grasp long enough to catch a glimpse of Sweet Pea’s hard expression. This was prior to Eddie pulling roughly on my arm to lock me against his side, lips at my ear.

“Sweets,” He said, almost condescendingly, “We were just talking about you.”

His breath was stale and reeked of cigarettes. I grimaced.

“Let her go.” Sweet Pea repeated, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie asked coyly, running his hand down the side of my waist. I used my right hand to slap his arm away, trying to pull myself out of his grasp.

No avail.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned his head slightly to look at his friend (the same friend from the Whyte Wyrm), “I’ll gladly make your eyes a matching set — you’ll look prettier.” He taunted, taking a step forward. His friends followed.

“So how are you gonna play this?” SP’s friend asked him, keeping a careful eye on Eddie.

“Divide and conquer.” Sweets replied, tilting his head to the side.

“Divide what?”

Sweet Pea cracked a wicked smile, “His head from the rest of his body.”

His friend nodded quickly, “Good plan.”

Eddie reacted out of what I could only assume was fear; he gripped my arm tighter and pulled me in front of him, lips still dangerously close to my flesh. I tensed under his grip, lips pressing into a firm line as I watched SP carefully. Please don’t do anything stupid

There was a loud thwack! prior to Eddie’s body slumping forward, causing me to lose my balance and collapse to the ground with him. I looked over my shoulder to where Eddie lay; he was completely unconscious. I looked up to where Sweet Pea and his friend had tight grips around the goons throats, fists swinging with incredible speed. The male behind me, I recognized him from biology — he offered me his hand, using all of his strength to pull me up onto my feet. I gathered my books, shoving my sketchbook into my bag as quickly as I could muster without adding any more damage to the paper.

The next time I lifted my eyes, Sweet Pea was looking to where I stood with a face of utter disappointment. “What?” I asked, stepping over Eddie’s unconscious body.

“What’re you doing hangin’ with these creeps?” He demanded, voice hard and angry.

I lifted a brow, scanning my eyes down the length of his body. His grey zip-up was blood stained, but easy to cover up if he was careful to keep his jean vest in a certain position. There were very few people that could pull of jean on jean — Sweet Pea somehow fit into the incredibly small percentage of people that definitely could. “Same reason I hang with you,” I spit, brushing past him.

“Uh,” I could hear his footsteps behind me, following me back towards the school. “You could at least say thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. His friends were preoccupied with hauling the trio of Ghoulies behind the pile of scrap metal by the end of the lot. I grimaced again, trying not to think about what kind of consequence could be waiting for me if I didn’t eliminate myself from the immediate area. “That wasn’t necessary — I’m sure there was another way to approach that situation.”

“What wasn’t necessary?”

“Violence? Is that your answer for everything?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

“Ed had it comin’.”

I rolled my eyes, “I had it handled.”

Sweet Pea snorted, falling into a casual stroll beside me, “Yeah, definitely looked that way.”

I sighed in annoyance and stopped in my tracks to glare up at him, “What do you want from me, dude?”

He met me with an equally annoyed expression, his eyes narrowed. “I want you to use your fucking head — this isn’t exactly the safest establishment in town.” He spat venomously, folding his arms across his chest again as he looked down at me, “Stay out of the east wing, don’t stay after hours alone, don’t go fucking off with a group of lowlives —”

“I didn’t ask for you to come to my rescue, Pea. Last time I checked, I told you I didn’t want anything to do with you. You don’t even like me — actually, I’m completely convinced you hate me and this was just some excuse to get your hands dirty.”

“Hate you?” He looked down at me, shaking his head. “You’ve got it all wrong, sweetness. You got beef with me, but you’re cool with them?” He asked, jutting his chin to gesture to the scene a couple dozen yards behind us.

I shook my head, fixing the placement of my bag on my shoulder, “No,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “I don’t want anything to do with any of you. I want to come to school, and try to get some sort of education. I want to graduate with no trace of any gang-affiliation, and I want to pack my bags and run as far away as I can and never look back.”

“Ditto,” He growled, “But we don’t always get what we want — if FYI, if it weren’t for my impeccable timing, you’d likely have contracted some sort of disease.”

I paused for a moment to consider his words. He wasn’t entirely wrong. As much as I wanted to believe I could’ve gotten myself out of that situation, I knew the truth as much as he did. If I had any balls, I wouldn’t have gotten stuck in that situation to begin with. “How did you even know where I was?”

Sweet Pea averted his eyes and shrugged, “I didn’t.” He lied, turning around to continue to walk towards the school.

I scoffed quietly to myself, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket as I trudged along behind him. It was ridiculous, how much he resembled an overgrown infant. “You’re a terrible liar.” I concluded once I reached his side, struggling to maintain a steady pace with his long legs. He seemed to notice my difficulty and slowed his pace.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He said firmly, adjusting the collar on his jean vest as we reached the the south wing doors. There was a group of bodies gathered outside the door, watching us with careful eyes as we approached. “Look, I got some business to attend to. Think you can keep yourself out of trouble?” He asked when he finally met my eyes; there was nothing joking about the look on his face.

I nodded slowly, but couldn’t verbalize the promise.


My hands were shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket as I wandered down the trail; Pop Tate gave me just enough time after school to get home to change, instead of bringing my uniform with me to school. Thankful for the time, I usually opted to walk home and plug myself into my music. There was something about the way heavy bass lifted my spirit — something about the vision of my entire body trembling under the intensity of the vibrations that put my mind at peace. It were as though none of the outside world could harm. A personal haven.

My thumb absently ran over the volume buttons as I hummed along with the tune, completely oblivious to the world around me. A solid forty-five minutes a day was all I needed.

The diner hadn’t been particularly busy that evening. Most parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their children running around unsupervised while a serial killer was still running loose. I had heard a few stories from customers over the last few shifts — but from the sounds of it, Dean had explained it like we had nothing to worry about. No one from the Southside had been targeted.

Still, that didn’t comfort me.

The bell to the door chimed; I looked up from behind the counter to where he stood. His brown hues fixed on mine as he slowly settled into an empty booth in the far corner. His vest remained the same as earlier, but his shirts hadn’t; he replaced the grey hoodie with a green shirt paired with a red plaid button up. I sighed indignantly, grabbing a menu from under the till.

I slapped the laminated menu on the table top and then rested my hands on my hips, “Are you following me or something?” I asked quietly, looking down at him.

Sweet Pea chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he leaned forward on the table, “You infiltrated my life, remember?” His voice was less rough, more at ease. Smoother, almost.

“Right,” I nodded with a smile, folding my arms around my waist. “Where are your friends?”

He cocked his head to the side; I looked past him out of the window to where a group of teens dressed down in black and dark hues gathered on their bikes, laughing simultaneously at something Toni had said. “Did you stay out of trouble?” He asked quietly.

“I’m here in one piece, so I’d say I managed alright.” I responded, fingers pulling at a stray piece of fabric on my apron. Sweet Pea sat back in his seat, looking out to where his friends stood. We were silent for a few moments, watching the group of teenagers from inside. “Are you going to tell me how you found me earlier?” I asked quietly.

SP inhaled deeply, eyes focused on the scene outside as he spoke, voice barely audible. “I got a text from a friend — said they saw you leaving the school with Eddie.”

I pulled my brows together in confusion, “So you leave class to save every girl he preys on?”

Sweet Pea looked up at me, eyes soft and mouth taunt, “Not typically, no.”

“Lucky me.” I muttered, pressing my palms into the table as I leaned forward, “Are you ordering?” When he shook his head, I swiped the menu off the table and retreated back towards the register. There was some minuscule part of me that wanted to stop fighting him on everything he said, on everything he did. That I shouldn’t question his reasoning’s. That what happened was the norm in Southside — that Sweet Pea was doing what Sweet Pea always did.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t typical Sweet Pea behaviour. And I wasn’t sure if that scared me more or less. I couldn’t pinpoint which feeling I wanted to dominate in that moment. I still firmly stood on the promise I wouldn’t emotionally latch onto anyone, and that included SP. Of all people, he should’ve been the one to have me running for the hills, screaming bloody murder.

Maybe he didn’t hate me after all. Maybe Eddie had been right — maybe Sweet Pea liked me in his own way, and maybe that meant I had to endure slight social humiliation.

Suppose I entertained the idea. What did he offer that I could invest myself into? He was tied to this town — that was no good, seeing as I would be gone within 24 hours after graduation. He was a gang member. And not just any gang member, or any Serpent. He was the alpha male for the younger generation — while I was certain he answered to somebody higher up on the totem pole, I wouldn’t doubt it if the others answered to him.

I looked back to where he sat. He remained slumped forward in his seat, eyes glued to the window. There was something off in his demeanor, and as odd as it sounded, that bothered me. Sweet Pea was loud, and cocky. He was full of himself, and self-righteous. Arrogant. Demeaning. A know-it-all badass with an attitude problem.

“Hey, Pop?” I called quietly, leaning back into the kitchen where he stood elbows deep in soapy water. “Can I get a vanilla shake?” I asked, peering over my shoulder to where SP sat.

The man smiled, pulling the towel off his shoulder to dry his arms, “Sure thing, Callie.”

I finished counting the till, stocking the extra napkin containers and ensuring all bottles at the front were full before Pop slipped the tall frosted glass with the creamy vanilla mixture through the slot. I offered him a smile as I took the glass, then carefully maneuvered my way over to where the Serpent sat. I set the glass down in front of him, watching as he looked down at it confused, trailing his eyes up to mine as I sat across from him in the booth.

“What’s this?”

“My thank you for earlier.” I replied, using the tip of my finger to wipe the excess whip cream off the side. “I don’t really know what would’ve happened if you and your friends hadn’t shown up.”

“Yeah, Fangz was real excited to lay into ‘em.” He chuckled, leaning forward onto the table. He looked at the milkshake, “This was a little unnecessary. How do you know if I even like vanilla?”

“I don’t,” I replied, pulling the straw out of his fingers, “But I do, so you’ll deal.” I teased, leaning forward to steal a pull from the straw. Sweet Pea watched me for a moment before the left corner of his mouth lifted up into a grin, revealing the slightest hint of a dimple in his cheek.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” SP asked, licking his lips.

I swallowed, “Promise you won’t give up on me?” I asked, sliding the drink back over to his half of the table. Sweet Pea brought the straw into his mouth, extending his middle finger out in silent promise. I happily linked mine around his and smiled.


@sprinklesandsugarcubes @jolomez @penisprkr @allison-rosewood-maximoff @cinn-rawr @poolpartyingwithjaws @xxmarch1412xx @oceanxtid3ss @m-a-u-r-aa @sweetapea @howtoamuseacoolperson @shadowsofthegreat

Doing well is much easier said than done. The best tip I have is to just do the work. It’s going to suck, but there’s no secret other than doing the work. Though, there are ways to make doing the work easier!

I. Time Management

  • Have a planner to gain a general idea of your week.
  • Schedule your time for studying but also schedule time for breaks.
  • Every morning I check what needs to be done for the day.
  • I treat college as a 9-5 job with a lunch break. This may not work for everyone, but this thinking allows me to be done by 5, and I usually finish everything for the day by that time.
  • Take a break after you finish an assignment. Allow yourself to feel proud for finishing and give yourself a reward.
  • Break up projects into smaller parts, this is incredibly important. It’s easier to do an outline, then a few paragraphs rather than doing an entire essay at once.
  • It’s not time well used if you don’t focus on the task at hand. If you’re having trouble, get rid of distractions using apps that limit phone/internet usage.
  • Don’t waste time on techniques that don’t work for you. I don’t rewrite notes, it doesn’t help me study. Instead I do extra textbook problems or I watch a video on the topic. 
  • Sometimes it’s hard to motivate yourself to do the work, to study. Then just do a single problem, a single page or paragraph. Usually starting is the hardest part.

II. Studying & Learning

  • Be present during class by asking questions and answering problems.
  • Use phone-locking apps like Forest if you need to to stay focused on the class.
  • Skim lecture notes ahead of time. You don’t need to take notes on them, the professor will tell you what’s important.
  • It’s ok if your notes aren’t pretty as long as they’re functional.
  • Practice problems until you can’t get them wrong.
  • Try to teach the material to someone else. This will show holes in your understanding. Pretend to teach if you don’t have a friend in the same class.
  • If you need, study in the library. Honestly, studying at my desk in my dorm has worked just fine for me though.
  • Do the homework, there’s no way around it. This is probably the biggest tip here. Do the work.
  • Actually do the homework, don’t just copy answers. Understand the answers. You can’t copy on a test.
  • Speaking of tests, do as many practice tests as you can find. Once the real test comes around, you won’t be as nervous and it should feel familiar.
  • Nice pens and notebooks aren’t required. However, spend a dollar and get a pen that writes well enough that you’re not wasting time during class getting it to work. (I’ve been through this)
  • Do the extra credit. There’s no reason not to, and your grade will thank you.
  • Go to tutoring, not everyone knows everything. You might even make a new friend since most tutors at my school are also students!
  • Realistically, you don’t need to do every reading assignment as long as you know what your professor tests on. If you don’t have the time, its fine to only skim the assignment.
  • Make study groups. If you don’t have a friend in the class, it’s as easy as asking “want to work on the homework together?” In my experience, most people are happy to work with you.
  • Go to your professors office hours if you need help. Your professors are a valuable resource.
  • Ask your friends for feedback, I do this all the time.

III. Treat Yourself

  • Sleep and eat well. Coffee is not a breakfast.
  • Please, don’t force yourself to cram a subject overnight. This is where time management comes into play.
  • An over-stressed student is a bad student, but a little bit of stress is healthy.
  • Find what motivates you. Personally, I wish to become a researcher so I work hard towards that goal to get into a good grad. school.
  • You don’t have to join a club. I’m not in one, and my social life is just fine since I spend time playing games with friends at night.
  • But join a club if you want, even for a single day. You might meet some friends.
  • Really do whatever you want with regards to your social life. Do what’s comfortable for you.
  • If you need it, colleges have a therapist that you can make an appointment with.

BTS Explain Concepts Behind ‘Love Yourself: Her’ Album: 'This Is the Beginning of Our Chapter Two’

Mere hours before the release of BTS'Love Yourself: Her, the album’s significance wasn’t lost on the group’s leader, Rap Monster.

“It’s really a huge, big step for us,” the 23-year-old rapper/songwriter/producer told Billboard during a phone call from Seoul. “Of course, every member is so excited about the album. We’ve been just practicing until now, day and night, to show these new songs and perfected performances. I left a message on our fan cafe, the other day, after we finished that 'this EP will mark the turning point of BTS’ and even though the wait felt really long with this album – I think it was the huge event, the BBMAs, were in May – so much has happened.”

The wait has been particularly anticipated for for the band’s famously passionate fan base, known as Army, who have been waiting for new tracks from Rap Monster, Jimin, Suga, J-Hope, Jin, V and Jungkook band after voting them Top Social Artist at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards over fellow pop juggernauts Justin Bieber, Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez and Shawn Mendes.

Since then, the BTS guys have landed distribution deals with Amazon and U.S.-based The Orchard (“We believe the physical album, still, really counts and it’s really important to connect with our fans around the world,” Rap Monster said) and hung out with worldwide chart-toppers like Major Lazer, Halsey, Charli XCX(“Maybe it’s just my sixth sense, but I think maybe we will be collaborating with even more interesting artists,” he added); even snagging The Chainsmokers to produce a beat for Love Yourself: Her.

One listen to the tightly produced record – which looks likely to make a big splash on the Billboard 200 next week – and the passion is palpable from the intense lead single “DNA,” the societal commentary in “Go Go,” among multiple lyrics and moments that feel ripped from the members’ personal journals. There’s also loads of passion in Rap Monster’s voice talking about these new songs as he sees and envisions the larger picture and message for his band’s latest batch of forward-thinking EDM, hip-hop and pop tracks. Read on for Billboard’s deeper analysis of Love Yourself: Her with Rap Monster.

Let’s start right from the beginning with “Serendipity.” Why was this the right song to choose as the intro and kick off the era?

When I wrote the lyrics, melodies and the first themes of “Serendipity,” I tried to come up with some rare things you find in life, something very special, like the calico, three-striped cat; things that have extraordinary meanings in people’s lives. I wanted to share this moment.

I was reading the lyrics are gender neutral, which I think is really powerful. Was that a conscious decision?

The lyrics were based on rare and special things in life. So, I thought, those feelings transcend genders, cultures and barriers between people.

We always put out the “Intro” just before releasing our single, so the intro is taking the role of telling the concept of this album. But “Serendipity” was actually the right song to share the feelings of our single, “DNA.” The title is about how our DNA is connected in the universe, I think that was the right feel for this album.

Let’s talk about “DNA.” How does this single continue and progress the story of BTS?

When we’re talking about our title tracks, “DNA” is about the expression of a young, passionate love. The lyrics are like, “The two of us our connected fatefully from the start, our DNA was just the one thing.” At the same time, “DNA” is taking BTS to new ground. We tried to apply new grammar and perspectives – if you listen to the song, you’ll understand what I’m trying to say – it’s very different from our previous music, technically and musically. I believe it’s going to be the starting point of a second chapter of our career; the beginning of our Chapter Two.

“Best of Me” is really impressive. It sounds like The Chainsmokers, but it also sounds like BTS. You didn’t lose yourself which isn’t easy when collaborating with new artists. What was that process like?

I love that track! We met them at BBMAs, we were so lucky. Actually, they invited us to their concert just the other day – they had a huge concert in Korea and we sang “Closer” together. For “Best of Me,” they gave us several tracks and samples months ago, we and our producers picked one sample, like, “Okay, this is fit for our next album.” So we worked on it, we sent it to them, we asked them what they think of the track we developed and got their opinions. And we made it! I’m so excited for it. [Laughs]

Your albums always have deeper social and society commentaries. Let’s talk about some of the topics with this release. “Go Go” instantly comes to mind.

“Go Go” is a trendy song, but it’s about how our young generation are living their lives with low expectations and standards so people are upset with reality; they have little hope and there’s so much economic hardship. We wanted to say something about it and emphasize to the world that it’s not their choice, but brutal reality that forces people to live and spend as if there’s no future.

But in Korea, “YOLO” has become a big key word for young people because we don’t have money and it’s really hard to get a chance to earn a lot of money. I think society has a lot of problems for young people. Young people spend their money on claw crane machines at arcades and they spend like $30 on trying to win these dolls. And then it’s like, “Oh! I spent all my money…shit. But I don’t regret.” That’s the biggest luxury for Korea’s young people: collecting accessories, cosmetics, that’s what they think is a luxury. It’s “YOLO” because it’s like, “I’m gonna buy all this! I’m gonna buy all this food and I’m going to eat it! I’m going to do it!” I think it’s sad because it’s all we can. “Go Go” is just saying, “Okay, just do it, we won’t regret it. Just spend several bucks on the machine and eat the food!” But at the same time, the song is very easily to sing along to so I think many people will like that song, especially if they find the deeper meaning.

Of course, I have to ask about making a skit interlude out of your BBMAs acceptance speech.

You need to hear “Mic Drop” because the skit was my speech at BBMAs –  because that was a big moment for our history – and then we put “Mic Drop” next to that because it’s like a flex – like, “Okay, we’re done. We don’t need to give a shit about anything.” That was the right skit and follow-up song for this album.

The last song, “Outro: Her” really spoke to me. It almost reads like a diary.

Ha! [Laughs]

After talking with you, it feels like it recaps the whole album and is really introspective.

I think that was the fastest work I did for this album. I wrote the verse in 20 minutes; it just came, very truthfully, from the bottom of my heart. I thought it was the right outro for this album because it is really a range of emotions – I’m saying I met this person that I really love, this person is the love of my life right now, I’m saying that I was confused and I was looking for love and this world is complex. But I think it’s you so, “I call you 'her,’ 'cause you’re my tear.” “I think you’re the start and the end of me.” That’s what I’m saying: You’re my wonder, but you’re also my answers. You’re my “her,” but you’re still the “tear.”

The hook is saying that love is not all about the happiness, it’s just not just about the joy, it’s not just about delight. If you want to love a person, you should know that there are tears and there can even be hatred inside of it. I think a love really includes all of that. That’s what I was trying to say. It’s complex.

And if fans are so lucky to own the physical album, they’ll hear two hidden tracks at the very. Why keep them secretive?

I think they’re hidden because you have to be a real fan of BTS to understand them. Otherwise, you won’t. Otherwise, you’d like be, “Why are they feeling so confused about things? They’re good?!? They’re No. 1 somewhere, they have so much stuff, why are they worried?” People always talk about that. But if you are true fan of BTS and you buy the album and you listen to the hidden track – if you are an Army and we spent time together from 2013, 2014 – they could understand. It’s kind of more special, more closer, to our true hearts.

© Jeff Benjamin @ Billboard

I am in my own Harry Potter AU hell.

And just because I can:

“Dad…” 

Malfoy looked up from his desk, quill poised over the parchment as his son hovered by the study door. Aware that he was frowning, Draco lifted his expression into something more neutral. He was vaguely aware of his own father always frowning whenever he’d tried to talk to him as a boy, and he didn’t want Scorpius to one day think the same about him.

“Come in, come in. Shut the door, you’ll let the heat out.” 

The Greengrass estate was a crumbling ruin compared to Malfoy Manner, with only half the library and none of the artifacts Draco had spent the last few years archiving and putting safely away behind spelled glass. But for now it was home, chilly stone walls and all.

“Did you want something?”

“Yes.” Scorpius replied, pausing to tug at the hem of his dark shirt. There’s still a bruise under his eye, faded to be sure, but the mere presence of it made Draco’s heart skip a beat. When he’d seen Severus Potter crawling out of the rubble, face covered in blood and no sign of his own son, he’d known terror like no other.

And Draco Malfoy was intimately familiar with the machinations of terror. He’d been hugged by it once.

“Well,” he prompted, setting aside his work entirely and giving his full attention to his son. “What is it?”

“I want my friends to come visit.”

Draco blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Your…friends?”

“Albus Potter and Rosie Granger-Weasley. I would like them to come stay.”

Draco blinked again. Later he’d laugh—somewhat despairingly into a decanter of fire brandy—at the absurdity of the notion that his boy, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was best friends with a Potter and the hybrid off-spring of a Granger Weasley, but the threat of impeding hysterics was quelled under the defiant gaze of his son, narrow chin lifting at some unspoken challenge. 

“I see. For how long?”

“A…a week…maybe two…They’re going to France for the Quiditch Cup Primaries…” he glanced down and Draco spied the curled up parchment hidden up his sleeve. “So it wouldn’t be for long.”

Draco glanced at his desk, to the fireplace, then back to his son. “I don’t…”

I want my friends…friendshow often had Astoria lamented his lack of playmates as a child, how often had she fretted that Scorpius’ only interaction had been with adults—or books, or enchanting his own toys for someone to play with. And how quickly had Scorpius’ face crumpled at the utterance of two simple syllables. 

“…know if two weeks would be wise, given your mother’s health. She’s still recovering from the move. But I shall discuss it with her, and see what can be done.”

Scorpius stilled, the beaming smile on his face reigned in to something calmer, even now, not wanting to get his hopes up too much. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, we will be good.”

Draco snorted at that, remembering the last time a Malfoy, a Potter and a Granger and a Weasley had been together at their age. “Somehow I doubt it. Go on off you go, go see what your mother is up to. She’s enjoying having you home.”

“And I am enjoying being here,” Scorpius replied, in that curiously courteous and stiff way of speaking he’d always had, even as an infant learning his words. “I am happy to be here, with you, and mother.”

“I’m…very glad to hear it.” Draco replied, unsure what else he was supposed to say to such an open admission said so politely like one was discussing the weather. “Now go on, off you go, I need to finish this manuscript before I lose the thought.”

“You’ll talk to mother though, wont you?” Scorpius pressed from his space by the door. “You’ll ask…”

“Yes, yes.” Draco waved a hand, “I’ll ask if the Potter spawn can come stay with us. Just for a little bit. To say thank you for…everything.”

Reassured, Scorpius left, closing the door behind himself with a firm click. 

Draco waited several more moments, counting to a hundred before opening up the top desk of his drawer and pulling out his correspondence folder, flipping through them until he found the appropriate manila envelope, writing the address of the Ministry Neatly to the front. 

Clearing his throat politely, he composed himself, then tapped it to life with his wand.

“Hello Potter,” he spat with a vicious familiar glee, unable to keep from laughing, “I’m not sure which one of us is going to be more surprised by this turn of events, but I swear to gods if you break my son’s heart by saying no, I will personally send you a red Howler on the hour every hour till the day one of us dies. Now, about dates, the last week in June works well for us…”

Let Me Show You

Author’s Note: I don’t where this came from but I’ve had this scenario in my head for days and I just had to write it. Sorry if there are any typos. I just wrote this on my phone in fit of passion. Also, I just started watching Hemlock grove so idk if I captured Roman’s character as well as I wanted, but oh well. Forgive me.

Rating: mature

Warnings: smut for smut’s sake



You were frustrated. You weren’t even convinced the word “frustrated” really encompassed the rage you felt towards yourself at this particular moment. It’s been awhile since your hands were able to get you off the way they used to. Recently, every time you were in the mood and you let your fingers slip down to your most sensitive spots, you would end up completely unsatisfied. No amount of flicks, tugs, or circular motions were enough to get you to the peek that you were desperately aching for. So it’s not even a surprise that you find yourself, once again, on your back and on the verge of tears.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and you had the house completely to yourself. You thought that today would finally be the day you could reach that sweet high you’ve been craving. There was nothing pressing on your mind, no distractions, but after two hours of scrolling through endless porn videos and conjuring up every fantasy you ever had, it was still utterly pointless. So as you lay completely bare on your bed, throwing a tantrum, you were suddenly jolted from your thoughts by the doorbell. So with a huff, you pull yourself together enough to drag yourself to your front door.

And there he was.

The human embodiment of the sexual frustrations that have been pent up inside you in the form of a 6’4 man with the face sculpted by the gods themselves.

“What do you want Roman?” You say completely irritated. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, especially now that the unstoppable throbbing between your legs somehow intensified even more since you left your room.

“Well, someone’s clearly happy to see me.” Roman teased, the corner of his full lips tugged into the infamous smirk that made every female within a ten-mile radius swoon. He pushed past you, and into your living room. The smell of his expensive designer cologne filled your lungs causing your eyes to drop for a second before looking back at him. He was completely unaware of the effect he had on you, but he could tell there was something off about you. Your breathing was heavier than usual and you were wearing a silk robe in the middle of the afternoon.

“So, what were you up to before I got here?” Roman asked as he circled mindlessly around the couch. Any other time you would be completely thrilled that he had come to you to spend his free time. But today was not one of those days. “Look Roman if you just want to shoot the shit, we do that another time. I’m busy,” you said bluntly. Roman spun around on his heels. He wasn’t used to you acting so unwelcoming, usually, you were the first person he could go to if he just needed someone to listen to him. He stepped up to you, so close his chest was almost next to yours. He took one of his long fingers and grazed it gracefully across your cheek. His big green eyes looking down at you, as if he’s never truly looked at you before.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’ve trusted you with more than anyone should. Let me be here for you.” He whispered quietly. You never felt so embarrassed in your whole life. Roman was here for you, willing to be your confidant, and the only reason you kept barking at him was because you couldn’t get yourself off.

“Roman, please. I can’t talk to you about this” you told him, backing away from him. However, he was able to grab onto your arm and bring you back into his space. Once again locking eyes. “I said anything,” he repeated slowly. Not being able to handle the intensity of his gaze, you looked down and whispered something he wasn’t able to catch. He leaned down, his ear now closer to your lips. “Come again?”

“God Damn it, Roman! I can’t get myself off, ok!” You yell at him. He shakes his head and you notice that he’s chuckling. “Are you laughing at me? See this is why I shouldn’t tell you shit. Everything’s a joke to yo-“ you were cut off by a swift movement. Before you were able to follow him, Roman has your back pushed against his chest and he begins kissing your temple. “Let me show you” he whispered. “I can help.” He pushed your hair away from your neck, tracing the length of it with his fingers. “Please?” He begged. Having little self-restraint, and feeling tired of losing the endless battle with your body, you willingly accept his offers.

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. Once there he kisses your hand before promising to return. You start pacing as you wait, wondering if this was a terrible idea and if an orgasm was really worth sacrificing your friendship over. But when he comes back to your room, carrying the full-length mirror from the bathroom, you were intrigued. He gently places it in front of your bed.

“Come here,” he says softly. You did as he asks and drags his hand from your collarbone and up your neck, forcing you to look up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss. His lips were so warm and soft that you could feel yourself melting in his arms. You feel his other hand move down to the tie of your robe, undoing it swiftly, and letting the silky black material fall off your body. He breaks the kiss the look down at you before looking back up at you through his thick lashes.

“A body like yours should never go unsatisfied.” His compliment made your heart race and you were more eager than ever to get his hands on you. You wasted no time pushing off his blazer and untucking his white v neck from his slacks. You loved the way he dressed. He was the perfect combination of sexy, classy and dangerous. But as of right now, all you wanted was to see these designer clothes littered across your hardwood floors. Once he was completely bare, he took the time to take off his newest watch, an investment you couldn’t even imagine making.

“Don’t want to get this wet.” He explained, placing the piece with his ring on the dresser. Then turned back to face her. And you couldn’t help but moan out loud at the sight. He was flawless. Every part of him was better than the fantasies you created in your head. “I want you, Roman. God, I want you.” You confessed. You started kissing down the smooth planes of his chest, lowering yourself with every peck. But before you could reach the place you wanted to go the most, Roman stopped you.

“I’m here for you.” He reminded you. Taking your hand and led you down to the floor. He moved your bodies so that his back was against the end of the bed, and your back was placed against his chest. He shifted beneath you slipping his long legs beneath yours and opened your legs. Looking into the mirror in front of you, you were displayed perfectly for him.

“I want you to watch me. You need to learn how to take care of this pretty little pussy of yours” he whispered into your ears. His fingers traced the outline of your lips and you let the long digits slipped through. “There’s a good girl.” He removed his fingers and brought them down your nipple. Circling around it so lightly, it almost tickled before roughly pulling on it, cause you to let out a gasp. He smiled at you through the reflection before continuing his ministrations. He lazily moved downwards until he got to where you really needed him. You were rolling your hips against him, not being able to sit still with his teasing. His fingers dragged slowly up from your wet opening to your clit. Then he starts circling around it at a slow and rhythmic pace.

“You like that?” He asked. He got his answer in the form of a soft moan. You reached behind you so you can grab his chocolate locks. Roman start nipping at your neck, finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear quite easily. He slid his other hand away from your nipple and down to your opening. Slipping two of his long and skillful fingers inside you. You had heard the rumors of the magical Roman fingers. But when he curved them to hit your spot so perfectly you almost screamed, you realized they were true.

“Look at yourself. You needed this didn’t you? You’re soaked.” You looked at yourself and you got the first glimpse of what he was capable of. Your whole body was on fire and your heaving chest and erect nipples were showing it. “I’m so close Roman. Please don’t stop.” You begged, grinding yourself harder against his length and his fingers. His legs kept you opened for him as both his hands worked tirelessly to get you off.

“Come on baby. Let it go for me, I know you can.” He encouraged. You reached the hand that wasn’t pulling at his hair to squeeze your own nipple. And with a few more seconds of stimulation your back arched away from his chest as your realase finally came. “Roman!” you screamed in ecstasy. Your orgasm hit you so hard that your whole body started convulsing. Roman’s hand slipped out of you and held you to his chest as his fingers kept circling around your clit, helping your release last as long as possible.

When your body finally stopped shaking, you slumped against his chest. You were completely spent. All those weeks of pent frustrations were finally gone and you never felt more relaxed. You turned back to look at Roman, his beautiful green eyes were completely blown.

“Do you want me to…” you trailed off. He shook his head and embarrassingly looked down at himself. “I already did.” You turned around to see he was right. The evidence was coated aross his chest and your back. You giggled a little. “The great sex god, Roman Godfrey, just came from having a girl grind on him?” You said teasingly. He lifted himself off the floor, shaking his head defensively. “You don’t get it. Watching a girl cum for you is just as sexy as getting blown. Especially if the girl is as gorgeous as you are.”

You made your way to your bed and by the time you got comfortable, Roman was back with a warm towel. Once you two were cleaned up, you guys made yourself comfortable on the bed. And with your head on chest and his hands in your hair, you let a “thank you” slip from your lips. You were so tired, you’re sure you imagined him saying “I’d do anything for you”.

How to Return to your Manuscript

Every writer knows what it’s like to set a manuscript down for an evening and just… not pick it up again.

Usually when this happens, we have every intention of returning to it the next day, but for some reason or another, we don’t. 

One day turns into a week. Which turns into a month. Maybe two. 

The longer the manuscript’s been set aside, the harder it becomes to pick up again. It turns into this dark, hulking presence lurking at the edge of your consciousness, like something in a horror movie, eating away at that piece of your identity labeled “writer.” 

The reasons for not picking it up may change, but there’s always one.

You may not know where to start again, or doubt that your abilities are up to the standard its plot or characters require. You may not know where to find the time to write anymore. You may have even sat down to write just a few minutes ago, and ended up here on Tumblr instead, unable to bring yourself to open the manuscript file. 

If you’re reading this post and feel personally attacked…

Don’t fret. 

I have a writing exercise for you. 

Set aside ten minutes of your day to look at your manuscript. 

  • I recommend reading the last scene you completed, but this is your manuscript and your time. You can look at the first page. Or that one scene in the middle that you actually kind of like. Just don’t look at a blank page. Blank pages are scary and this is all about eliminating writing anxiety. 
  • Personally, I make this the last thing I do in the day, so I go to sleep with my manuscript in my head. Sometimes it helps to let my unconscious mind have a go at sorting through what I’ve read. However, I think it’s helpful to do this before any long period of time when you can let your mind wander. You may find writing more helpful before work/school or during lunch. Before a commute. Whatever works best for you. 

But don’t write and don’t look for more than ten minutes. 

  • You’re not allowed to change a single thing in the document. Not a comma. Not a misspelled word. 
  • When the ten minutes are up, simply close the document and go on with your day/night. 
  • There will probably be some things that you do want to change in the manuscript. They may be very simple, sentence-level fixes, but they may be as big as an idea for continuing the scene or the start of the next chapter. Let those thoughts sit with you, instead of all of the manuscript doubt and anxiety that were sitting with you before.
  • And yes, keeping your time down to ten minutes is important. You want a focus on a bite-sized portion of the manuscript. If you read too much, you’ll give yourself too much to consider for the next day, you’ll find too much to change, and you’ll run the risk of making your work as anxiety-inducing as ever. 

The next day, sit down with your document for another ten minutes. 

  • Allow yourself to make the changes you didn’t make the first day, or ones you’ve come up with since. This may mean adding a few commas and removing a few ‘that’s. This may mean continuing with the scene. Ten minutes is the perfect amount of time to set down a good paragraph. Try that. 
  • Again, force yourself to stop after ten minutes, even if you’re on a roll now. The stopping means that you have to keep all of those changes that you’re excited to make inside your head. It means that your thoughts about your manuscript are good and productive. It’ll keep you looking forward to your next writing session. Key advice: at the end of every writing session, always leave an edit in your head. It’ll be that small, tangible thing you can start with in your next session. 

Rinse, repeat, and develop a routine. 

  • Sit down for at least ten minutes every day. Make it a routine. Once the manuscript is open, do whatever feels comfortable to you: whether that means reading a chapter, editing something old, or writing something new. 
  • If you’re coming up with edits and scenes that simply require more than ten minutes, start amping up your writing time. Write for an hour. Write for two or three. 
  • Have a super busy day and know you can’t write for an hour? Those ten minutes are still fine. They’re still enough. Never feel like having spent three hours writing yesterday means you have to spend three hours writing today. Never feel like a failure for not spending X hours a day writing. That will only lead to not writing at all. 
  • What if you get stuck again? Go back to a shorter writing time, go back to reading and not writing. Reduce the pressure you’ve put on yourself and relax your expectations. The most important thing is simply returning to your manuscript every day whether you have something good to set on the page or not. 
  • Never got un-stuck in the first place? That’s still okay! Keep spending your ten minutes with your manuscript. Write or just read. Keep it in your thoughts. Make it a defined, real, thing instead of that monster lurking in your head. It may take time, but eventually, something will click, and by that point, opening that file and getting started will be a piece of cake.
  • If you are able to write for an hour or two each day, you may find it useful to continue setting aside ten minutes each evening to read that day’s work–read but not edit–and keep a few edits in your head for the next day’s session. 

By the end of a week, whether you’ve written a hundred new pages or fixed a lot of bad grammar, you’ll at least be in a place where you’re once again thinking about your manuscript in tangible terms, as a thing made up of words and paragraphs instead of anxiety and blank pages. 

Maybe in the end, you’ll decide that you simply need to abandon this story and pick up a new one. If this happens, you’ll be in a great place to start, with a writing routine already in place. 

More likely than not, just spending time with your story will fan up your love for it again. And once more, your manuscript will be the annoying, stubborn, untameable child you adore instead of a lurking horror. 

For more advice on working through writer’s block, check out another post of mine: What to Do When You Can’t Write

Originally posted by gypsyastronaut

Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

The Boxer Part Two

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 5K

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE AND PHYSICAL FIGHTS.

Prompt: 

“You’re supposed to be in the hospital gown, it’s why we laid it out for you,” Y/N stated, pointing the pen in her hand at the white gown by his feet.

“I’m not wearing that paper shit,” Harry grumbled, “and I’m perfectly fine to leave.”

“That cut says otherwise,” Y/N says.

Harry watches as she sets down the clipboard and turns on the sink to wash her hands, she’s cute. She’s nothing like the kind Harry would go for. His usual prey would be at the bar, lonely, maybe going through a breakup, but he knew for sure that by the end of the night she would be in his bed. Y/N on the other hand looked like too pure for him, and he hated that look.

From his experience Harry had learned that girls like Y/N believed that they were too good for a guy like him. Girls like Y/N, with an innocent smile, soft skin, and soft voices, tended to only use him for one thing, to make their parents upset. Harry had seen it time and time again, it was only a matter of weeks before the girl would crush his heart and move on to someone better.

“I don’t feel anything,” Harry stated.

Harry had grown numb to just about everything. He couldn’t feel the punches thrown at him, he couldn’t feel his emotions, it all just seemed gone to him. He didn’t mind though, no emotions meant he couldn’t get hurt, and no pain meant he was unstoppable.

or

Boxer Harry Styles highers, incredibly perky Y/N as his on-call nurse.

Part One


Harry wasn’t sure which he hated the most, expression his emotions, or having to handle them.

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Disrespect me? Get Shut Down and Blacklisted

So I used to work as a waiter at a fairly okay steakhouse around the US. Enjoyed my job, got great satisfaction from making people happy, had regulars who loved me and would only come in to see me (even long after the menu items they originally came for stopped being offered).

Well the company decides that this particular location needs a new General Manager. This is someone who was, as it turns out, fired from his last GM position for toxic behaviours including but not limited to sexual harassment of younger female staff.

A'ight, no big. I can roll with pretty much anything. Mostly because I’m very ‘out’ about being LGBT (specifically the T part) and surround myself with friends and family who are totally cool with that.

GM is an older gentleman, conservatively raised, and incredibly vocal about his personal politics (including, oddly enough, something about there being more trees in north america NOW than there has ever been, and how global warming is good because ‘all those trees need all that carbon dioxide anyway’). Odd fellow, not very well educated, but this is lower-end management at best anyway so what can you expect?

Well, as I’ve said, I was very much 'out’ at work, and so would, when appropriate, gently remind my coworkers that certain pronouns are maybe… not the best used when referring to me. In reference to the GM, though this fellow would go out of his way to refer to me using an incorrect honorific- american south… Maam and Sir are just things everyone says regardless. It happens, I get that. But twice in every sentence is not an accident.  Going out of his way to dig up my 'dead’ name (the name I used before transition)… also not an accident. 

Well, I’d been hearing from other staff that the new GM was being incredibly derogatory towards me when I wasn’t around as well, and decided that the mature thing to do would be to approach him in private and ask him about it. Maybe give him a chance to ask any questions he might have, or at least come to a mutual agreement (preferably one that doesn’t include deliberately-misgendering honorifics). 
Turns out he’d rather have that conversation at the front door, while guests of the restaurant are still entering and exiting, despite my repeated requests to talk to him in a more private place. 

I bring up my concerns.

Not only are they true, but he’s been frothing at the bit to have this conversation with me, and spends the next solid twenty minutes lecturing me (I barely got in three full sentences- this man also doesn’t know that interrupting is inappropriate in a discussion). He brings up the fact that he has 'a degree in biology’… yeah so do I, but mine is thirty years more recent than his, guaranteed. He brings up the fact that it’s 'rude’, 'childish’, and 'stupid’ for me to even ask him to consider NOT using the honorific he’s decided is appropriate. He even goes so far to try to explain how chromosomes work to me. ….and.. clearly doesn’t understand at all how chromosomes work. In -any- species, H.sapiens included.

So here’s the revenge part.

I had taken about two weeks off, to be started the next day, in order to visit family in another part of the world for the first time in several years. So I simply went in the next day and told an office full of managers to.. not worry about putting me on the schedule come time. Two weeks off equals two weeks notice. No big. Got to fly the bird (In america, a rude gesture involving the middle finger alone) at GM who was in the office with other managers at the time. 

Now that I was no longer employed at company, I was free to speak of my experience without fear of consequence. So I spoke to friends. Spoke to allies. Spoke to legal teams. All about this obvious discrimination and attempted bullying by someone in a position of power, in a part of the United States with very, VERY defined fairness ordinances explicitly in place to prevent LGBT discrimination in a city that is known by the region as being a 'hub’ for LGBT treatment and opportunity and resources and community.

Friends called HR. Other co-workers contacted me about issues they’d had with the GM in the same vein. I included these (dates, times, names, witnesses, contact information for those who consented) in my own formal report. More friends called HR. And then MORE friends called HR.

So many people called to complain to the restaurants public resources team that they would no longer ever come to said restaurant if this was the kind of behaviour that was accepted as representing the company…. That the company closed the entire location with a week, and the GM has apparently been utterly blacklisted from the restaurant business in the city/county due to this scandal.

Apparently it was more money than it was worth to fight the scandal, and the restaurant chain decided to cut their losses and close the site entirely. 

(I would like to add that staff were heftily compensated/transferred/offered opportunities elsewhere and no one was 'kicked to the curb’ for being an innocent bystander)

But it feels so good to pass by the now derelict building and think to myself “I did that. Frick that guy. That guy was awful.”

The Signs as People I’ve Known

Aries: She was the epitome of a free spirit. Her blunt and aggressive personality wore on me at times, but she was a genuine person who struggled in her mind more than she let show. She could kick anyone’s ass, and she knew it.

Taurus: The first guy I hooked up with in college that was actually good. Short with broad shoulders, he was intimidating in public, but a vulnerable romantic in private. He was hard to connect with, but he continued to pop up here and there. I think he’s a newscaster now.

Gemini: My favorite teacher of all time. Junior English and Journalism, which I had back to back. She taught me the importance of writing through the blocks. We’re now good friends years later. She told me I changed her life as a student. She inspires me to this day.

Cancer: She’s obsessed with history, the moon, and nature. I met her on the first day of high school and we’ve been friends ever since. A Leslie Knope type. I consider her my family. A giant nerd with a lot of love to give. Crazy hair and wears her heart on her sleeve. She likes to dance on the roof with her cat.

Leo: He married one of my best friends, a redneck with a giant heart. He’s a ‘straight’ white male redneck from Virginia who loves drag race, admits everyone’s a little gay, and would literally do anything for his wife. He can fix anything, or will drive everyone crazy trying. One of the shyest guys I know at first.

Virgo: My momma. I’m biased, but everyone agree she’s probably the most selfless hard working person I know. Shes prone to disappear without warning, but she deserves it after spending every day helping people. She’d be happy living in a shack in the mountains as long as she could see her loved ones.

Libra: My first best friend, we spent every weekend together playing pretend and video games. He encouraged me to be myself and to do what I love. He was always taller than me, and had a new girlfriend every few months.

Scorpio: I met her my first night working at forever21. She was genuinely the most beautiful woman I’d ever met, and still is. Me and her would be stationed by the front doors to intimidate shoplifters with our Scorpio glare. She went on to be a fitness guru in California living the most aesthetic ass life ever.

Sagittarius: This is the bitch you want on your side in an argument. If Daria was done by Disney, she’d be it. Art ho and owns it. She’s an underrated fashion icon and scrapbooking addict. A walking contradiction, and I can relate to that. Just wants to hold tiny animals and talk shit about your enemies while watching YouTube poop.

Capricorn: One of my dearest friends who moved away. Prone to bad choices, she was born a rebel. She can pull of any look, and probably has. Most woke friend in the group. Covered in freckles. She has pet rabbits she treats better than herself and most people. Extremely difficult to read sometimes.

Aquarius: We go way back, and he is the wildest craziest fucker I’ve ever known. From sexual escapades, possibly not legal ventures, and his encyclopedia-like knowledge of film and music, he’s an enigma unlike any other being on earth. Tall and lanky with a perpetual baby face. Don’t pick up his phone call if you don’t have at least half an hour to lose.

Pisces: The best sex I’ve ever had, and one of the dreamiest souls ever. He keeps a lot to himself, but randomly his emotions and thoughts would pour out at 3am. He has a beautiful voice, and is really well liked. Works well with kids too! The ideal boyfriend on paper, but we both agreed that’s not in our cards. I was lying, but I don’t think he was. Hates social media, but loves social gatherings.

His Warmth (M)

Word Count: 3532
Member: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: Cum-play, Biting, Lots of cute bc I’m in love with Jimin

It’s been two months since your boyfriend went on tour and you haven’t been able to see him, so when you unexpectedly wake up to him in your bed you just can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.

c.

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  —  —  —  LIGHT HEARTED SUGGESTIONS STARTERS

‘  the world is a little happier with you in it.  ’
‘  i have the right to be happy and i will not let you or anyone else take that from me.  ’
‘  i’m done apologizing for who i am.  ’
‘  i am stronger now and i will not say sorry.  ’
‘  let this moment be your starting point. let this moment be the one when it all began.  ’
‘  if you have nothing, you have nothing to lose.  ’
‘  it’s never too late to rebuild yourself.  ’
‘  healing takes time, but it will come.  ’
‘  your warmth and kindness is more beautiful than you know.  ’
‘  your feelings are valid.  ’
‘  your opinons are valid.  ’
‘  your happiest moment is still yet to come.  ’
‘  turn off the light and close your eyes. it can wait until tomorrow.  ’
‘  self love is a daily commitment.  ’
‘  don’t let those thoughts that are telling you can’t keep you from trying at all.  ’
‘  not today. i won’t let it defeat me.  ’
‘  stop punishing yourself. please. you don’t deserve it.  ’
‘  breathe.  ’
‘  you don’t deserve that! demand better!  ’
‘  i hope you find what your soul really needs.  ’
‘  i hope you find the happiness you yearn for.  ’
‘  there is a point where you have to let go of the anger.  ’
‘  even if your voice was shaky and you stuttered on your words, you still spoke up and i am so proud you did.  ’
‘  there’s something incredible about you and i can’t quite tell what it is. maybe that’s the magic in it.  ’
‘  i know you want more and your heart is driven like that, but don’t take on too much.  ’
‘  people aren’t always going to do and say what you want them to and that’s okay.  ’
‘  you are a living, breathing masterpiece.  ’
‘  some might not understand your beauty, but you are art nonetheless.  ’
‘  quiet down those thoughts. it’s not worth it tonight.  ’
‘  try to have gentle thoughts.  ’
‘  your intrusive thoughts are just thoughts and nothing more than that.  ’
‘  i love you… i always have.  ’
‘  i tell myself i don’t care, but i care too much.  ’
‘  maybe you and i exist together on a different wavelength than the rest of the world. perhaps, we are on a separate frequency.  ’
‘  concept: we’re both in our softest pajamas, your arms around me and our legs are intertwined. you kiss the back of my neck and tell me you won’t ever let me go.  ’
‘  look close enough and you’ll find how much i adore you in every subconscious thing i do.  ’
‘  there are countless parts of you i’ve yet to meet, yet to memorize. nevertheless, i’ll keep wanting to get to know you even when i know everything.  ’
‘  you make me feel loved in my unlovable moments and beautiful even in my ugliest ones.  ’
‘  oh darling, how deeply you’ve become a part of me. i can’t help but feel something is missing when you’re gone.  ’
‘  i can’t help but feel something is missing when you’re gone.  ’
‘  thank you for never making me inadequate or dumb or inferior.  ’
‘  your constant love and respect has given me incredible strength and confidence.  ’
‘  thank you for seeing all the good in me.  ’
‘  every night i image you beside me.  ’
‘  it breaks my heart that you can’t fall asleep with me in the same room or the same city, but i always remember that even an imagined silhouette of you is better than nothing at all.  ’
‘  the spaces between your fingers are where mine fit perfectly.  ’
‘  by some miracle, the universe created you. of all the infinite combinations of atoms, somehow that infinity filtered down to form you.  ’
‘  what people think of you is not equivalent to who you are.  ’
‘  the moment i let myself believe i was going to be okay was the moment i finally was.  ’
‘  protecting your own happiness ins’t selfish.  ’
‘  you deserve every ounce of happiness.  ’
‘  a week, a month, a year without you is nothing compared to the lifetime we’ll spend together.  ’
‘  tomorrow is a new day. and a new day after that. it’s never too late to start over.  ’
‘  i finally realize that i no longer need your approval and i never really did.  ’
‘  maybe i will be okay in the end.  ’
‘  maybe i will find all that i’m searching for.  ’
‘  maybe i will figure out all that i am.  ’
‘  whatever. whatever. whatever. let is pass right by you.  ’
‘  you are not a failure. please believe that.  ’
‘  you are only presented with obstacles you are strong enough to conquer.  ’
‘  it’s been long enough. it’s time to forgive yourself.  ’
‘  your bad days don’t make your good days any less good.  ’
‘  even in your darkest times, the sun still rises.  ’
‘  your existence wasn’t a mistaken accident, it was a creation from almost nothing to something incredible – a miracle even.  ’
‘  your feelings are your own. no one should be allowed to define them for you.  ’
‘  ever since our storylines intertwined, i haven’t stopped smiling. you are the best plot twist.   ’
‘  your thoughts are something that deserve to be heard.  ’
‘  sometimes it’s not meant to be, but that doesn’t mean there’s no value in it happening.  ’
‘  your greatest love story is the one you have with yourself.  ’
‘  i have the right to be happy and i will not let you or anyone else take that from me.  ’
‘  your existence alone has altered the world. you are more important than you know.  ’
‘  thank you for letting me forget all the bad, even just for a second.  ’
‘  you were built for whatever is thrown your way. you are ready.  ’
‘  no matter what your mind is telling you, please know that you are enough.  ’
‘  what i can’t fathom is how we can be so close yet so far away.  ’
‘  you are not a bad person for having bad thoughts. forgive yourself.  ’
‘  you are growing from this.  ’
‘  you will heal in time.  ’
‘  your strength and kindness is more beautiful than you know.  ’
‘  i’m just trying to be happy and stop thinking about what other people think.  ’
‘  i want to be someone who sees magic in ordinary things.  ’
‘  be extra. enjoy things and show it. stop apologizing for it.  ’
‘  why do you keep trying to impress people who don’t matter?  ’
‘  let go of the hate. let go of the anger. let go of the resentment. just let it go because it’s holding you back.  ’
‘  you’re really cute and you make me really happy.  ’
‘  show me your genuine care.  ’
‘  why are you beating yourself up over things you can’t control? breathe.  ’
‘  people annoy me too easily. i need to cut that shit out. i’m not cool enough to be trying to pull that.  ’
‘  underestimate me and give me the ability to prove you wrong.  ’
‘  you don’t have to have everything figured out.  ’
‘  you’re not a bad person for being angry.  ’
‘  forever is an adventure with you.  ’
‘  you are not a failure. please believe that.  ’
‘  you’re my favorite reason to stay awake.  ’

Submit To Me - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 15,061

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public Teasing, Public Masturbation, Teasing in the car and in the bedroom, pleading, seduction, striping Dylan because he’s sexy as fuck, dry humping, thigh riding, hand jobs, face riding, handcuffs, blindfolds, 69 (aka oral male and female receiving), overstimulation, praising, orgasm denial, female riding male (regular and reverse cowgirl), whiny Dylan, mentions of dominant Dylan, A lot of submissive Dylan, BREATHY MOANS

Notes: I will make this short as I am writing this pool side from hell. I’m so sorry this took forever. I have no excuses. But hopefully it was worth it. I honestly don’t know if this is my best writing for what you guys wanted from this. I promise the next thing I write won’t take as long. 

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I'm Not Your Toy

A/N: So I’m finally getting through my asks! This one was a request for an insecure reader and an over zealous flirty Bucky. I love writing him like this! So I got carried away and suddenly this was almost five thousand words so I’m going to have to split it into a two parter! Ugh, charming Bucky. You do things to my heart

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: A disgusting amount of pining, sailor like cursing, maybe triggering self doubt and insecurity, pretty SFW…for now.

Summary: You’d supported Steve and his decision to not kill Bucky. Fuck, you even supported Steve when he’d literally started a war over Bucky. Done jail time for him. But you what you couldn’t manage to do for the life of you, for the love of Steve, was get along with Bucky. Especially when he managed to make you blush every time you were in the same room as the man

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Some Reddie headcanons where Eddie starts dating someone else

All the losers are starting to pair off. They’re falling into relationships that have been building for years, and Eddie feels like he’s just. There.

Because he’s had feelings for years, too, okay? But that doesn’t mean they’re reciprocated.

In fact, he knows they’re definitely not.

(They definitely are.)

So when this boy from the grade above him asks him out, he says yes.

And everyone knows that this boy is super bad for him.

All the losers try to tell Eddie that this relationship isn’t healthy for him, and they want to be happy for him, but they want him to be safe.

But Eddie won’t listen to any of them, because Richie said he’s happy for him, and that’s the only sign he needed.

Because of course he wants Richie, but Richie doesn’t want him, so he’ll settle.

Bev threatens to punch Richie, and he just looks confused until Stan calls him out on his bullshit.

“Why do you keep supporting this? You know you’re the only one he’ll listen to.”

And Richie shrugs it off, because he knows it’ll sound pathetic if he tells them the truth. Because he wants Eddie to be happy, and he knows Eddie will be happier with anyone else than he would be with Richie.

So he pretends.

And smiles.

And jokes.

And every day Eddie comes into school, he looks more tired. More drained from constantly fighting with this boy.

And everyone tries to let it go, because nothing they say works, but they’re all worried.

Eddie stops hanging out with them as much, claiming to be spending time with his significant other the way they all do, but half the times he’s actually isolating himself in his room or at school after hours.

Until one day Richie finally loses his mind, because Eddie ditched again, but Richie saw his boy in town alone with his friends.

He goes to Eddie’s house as fast as he can, but he’s clearly not in his room.

But he also can’t be at the arcade or the barrens or the quarry, because all of the losers would have seen him, those are their frequents.

It takes him two hours to end up at school, but it’s worth it when he does. There’s Eddie, sitting on a blanket with his back against the brick wall, bike laying in the grass.

He doesn’t look up at Richie, which is infuriating.

It doesn’t take long for gentle questions that go unanswered to turn into an argument between them.

“I can’t fucking pretend anymore, Eds! He’s toxic! How can you not see how bad he is for you?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Of course it matters! Why wouldn’t it?”

“Because at least he cares about me! At least he cares that I exist!”

Richies jaw hangs open, one of those rare moments where he’s speechless - almost speechless, at least for a few seconds, because how could this have happened

How could he have let the most important person in the world think that he didn’t care about him

(For a second he thinks of his parents, but then he’s looking back at Eddie, and he’s gotta do what he does best and talk)

“You think I don’t care about you?”

“Why would you? You’re Richie Fucking Tozier, and I’ve got nothing on you.”

“Fuck, Eds-”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Just listen to me! Please. I know you ignore half the things that come outta my mouth-”

“I listen to everything you say.”

It’s quiet, after that.

And there it was, twice in one day that Richie almost didn’t know what to say.

(Almost)

And there’s his Eddie, looking at the floor, brown curls falling into his face. His hands are tucked away, hidden in the inside of the sleeves on his oversized sweater. It’s too much.

“Eddie Kaspbrak, I have been in love with you since seventh grade.”

And then there’s tears in Eddie’s eyes, and Richie doesn’t know who closed the distance between them, but Eddie’s face is pressed into the front of his shirt and his hands are holding on to Richie for dear life.

Richie is holding him back as tight as he can, holding him like Eddie is his whole world. His face is pressed against the top of Eddie’s head, and they just stand there like that for a while.

They stand there like there’s no where else to be, because there isn’t.

Eddie conveniently breaks up with the boy from the grade above the next day. The losers don’t ask.

Eddie tells Richie that he isn’t ready to date again, and Richie is super understanding and willing to wait however long it takes, but they still hold hands under the lunch table anyway.

(It only takes a week. Eddie has loved Richie since they met, how could he wait any longer? He hardly even remembers the name of the boy he dated.)