and full of feels at the same time

anonymous asked:

I self-ship myself as well and I think that is something acceptable to do. But idk it hurts me so much to realise that they are not real, y'know? Like everything you imagine of them, is not real??That everything is just in your head. And if you ever ( actually never ) happen to meet this person, what if they don't like you? You can never know since they are fictional... I'm sorry if I complain about it but i just wondered if you sometimes feel the same and if yes, how do you cope with it?

there, there, anon.  i know real life is hard sometimes, but yeah, i do have those thoughts sometimes!!  i think everybody in the community has those thoughts from time to time, but you know what?  i just refuse to believe them.  your faves LOVE you, and even if they didn’t, then that means that they just didn’t deserve your greatness and big ol’ heart full of love.

don’t let yourself get discouraged and go into a rut.  your f/o’s at the very least would want you to love yourself and know you’re deserving of all the love in the world.  just because it isn’t real doesn’t mean that it’s not real, you know?  if it makes you happy and contributes to your life, then that’s all you really need.

vivianavegaochoa  asked:

I still remember that summer when you started posting the road trip au. I was (am) sure we didn't deserve such bliss. That summer was hot and full of Bechloe and Halsey and 21 pilots and full of you. I'm glad you are back, I have the feeling this summer will be something like that. I'm glad you are on that path of finding yourself and I'm very happy you exist at the same time as I do. I hope you stay safe and keep being awesome.

this is such a nice message to receive oml. thank you so much!

FULL MOON FACE EMOJI REVIEW

This one provides a warm feeling of comfort and home. possibly is level 1 sex offender but is so sweet you can’t even tell. 4/5

reminds me too much of a Cornellá comic. 3/5

Very strong outlining takes away from the actual image. Face is very vague and unpleasing to look at. 2/5

this emoji is more than okay with cooking you into a cake and then eating it. 1/5

this one is cute and terrifying at the same time 3/5

very simplistic approch makes it hard to tell what the emoji even is. looks like the sun. 0/5

craters are concave, not convex. 1/5

this moon obviously is too important and petty to reflect sunlight. 2/5

looks like a depressed smiley fry 2/5

cheese? 1/5

warming and comforting. reminds me of cookies and happiness 4/5

YO BRUH TF IS THIS SHIT BRUH. THIS LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A FUCKING HORROR MOVIE. IT LOOKS LIKE THE ZELDA MOON BRUH. LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING SHAKESPEARE WOULD PUT IN HIS PLAY. MOON ALSO OBVIOUSLY DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO CONTOUR -3/5

Reasons an FP/anyone may not have replied to you yet

I know that a lot of us with BPD- and other disorders such as anxiety, DPD, paranoia etc- can get really worried when those we care about don’t reply- or anyone! We worry they hate us, are angry, are leaving us, are hurt. So, here’s a list of possible reasons why they may not be replying that aren’t those! 

  • They’re asleep. This is kinda subjective to the time they’re in, but this included naps! Sometimes people fall asleep suddenly, or fall asleep before your reply
  • They’re busy. They made need to focus on something, or not be allowed on their phone. Or, they want to save their reply to you for when they can put their full attention on you and give a proper reply
  • They’re unsure how to reply yet. sometimes people need time to think of how to reply, and want to give a proper one
  • They don’t feel like talking to anyone right now. It’s not that they don’t wanna talk to you specifically- they may just be socially drained or want to focus on themselves! 
  • They’re not in a mental place where they can reply to you. This includes perhaps they’re dissociating, or can’t think straight to reply 
  • Their phone is dead. Plain and simple
  • Their wifi dropped. Same again 
  • They’re taking pleasure time. Video games, reading anything. Sometimes people need time to relax- it doesn’t mean that they don’t enjoy talking to you, they just wanna fully immerse themselves in their activity.
  • They’re interacting with someone/in a situation where it’s not appropriate to use their phone. Maybe at dinner, church, a lesson, anything
  • They suddenly have to deal with something urgent.
  • They forgot. I know this one is scary/hurts- but it doesn’t mean you’re not important to them! Maybe they saw your message whilst busy, thought they need to reply later, then forgot. Some people also have memory issues that mean they forget to reply to things.
  • They’re not logged into what you talk in. This goes esp for facebook/tumblr
  • They havn’t got your message. This can be for lots of reasons! Bad connection, app is broken, phone is slow, anything like that

don’t imagine young dan eagerly commenting every time phil tweeted or posted

don’t imagine dan’s phone beeping when phil uploaded and rushing off to watch the video immediately

don’t imagine dan sitting on his bed at home with a small smile as he rewatches one of his favorite phil videos

don’t imagine dan squealing and turning bright red when phil replied to a tweet for the first time

don’t imagine a sort of nervous joy spreading throughout dan every time phil replies and he doesn’t want to let himself hope but he does anyway

don’t imagine dan nervously cleaning his room and spending half an hour on his hair and taking deep breaths before their first Skype call

don’t imagine a nearly speechless dan when he sees phil on his screen for the first time and he can’t even think of what to say

don’t imagine a shy dan letting phil do most of the talking through their first few Skype calls because he can’t believe this is real

don’t imagine dan pacing around worrying he’s just bothering phil and telling himself it doesn’t mean as much to phil as it does to him

don’t imagine dan’s heart stopping when phil suggests they meet in person

don’t imagine dan lying awake the night before, excited but also so fucking scared that phil won’t like him

don’t imagine dan sprinting off the train and looking around hoping, hoping so much his heart feels like it’ll explode

don’t imagine dan’s reaction when he spots phil and the full realization that he’s meeting Phil Lester

don’t imagine dan trembling slightly as they hug because phil’s real and he’s hugging him and god, he has a friend

don’t imagine dan thinking about all of that years later with phil sitting beside him in their shared flat, on their couch, right after the same man has stolen dan’s cereal

don’t imagine that

your father was an inventor. you knew better than to trust him in the center of town. he came home with scrap metal and built ships to glide on the grass. when you were young, you loved him for making. for a brief five years, you hated him, embarrassed of the town loon, embarrassed of what raised you.

but time shifts things. the man in town wants to marry you. a beautiful man by every account, and you hear many accounts. your nose in books doesn’t stop the stories of him: Gaston, bright, young, proud. Gaston, who could hunt and carve and flex his muscles. who forgot even himself what was true and what was fiction. it is a small village in paris, at the base of a kingdom. he is the bachelor you should have your heart set on. 

you try to teach yourself to love him. he grins at you over beer mugs. never reads the books you suggest to him, drops one in the mud. and one night you hear him, drunk and singing, laughing with the others about your father, the crazy.

that night your father brings you a single white rose from a garden. you kiss your father and think of Gaston’s log cabin, where you could live in comfort.

they come for your father in the night. he is the property of the prince, on account of theft. his hands should be cut off and sewn to the walls of his house, to remind him of his failures. an inventor without hands is a death sentence. they come with fire and hatred. rip you out of bed. your knees hit the mud. you’re too small to fight them. they tear your father away from you, and your heart out of your chest.

you run to gaston. tall, fast, manly. you beg him. it’s a mistake, you cry, you must help - you gulp - and then we will marry. 

gaston laughs and slams oak door against nose. you stumble back, feeling like a knife is in your throat. you take the wagon horse and ride improper, legs spread and bent forward, none of the lady your mother would have wanted. you ride for the life of your father.

at the door of the castle you stop. it is raining. you shout and rave and beg anything. take me, you scream, if you’re listening i’ll do anything. what do you promise on that doorstep, crying yourself empty? what do you promise to keep him alive, to keep him whole, to keep him healthy?

the door opens late. no one is there. you remember, suddenly, the tale of the beast who lives here, who ate the prince, who is terrifying. you think you hear your father and suddenly you are running, following his voice down dark hallways with no ending. 

he is in a cell. his head is bleeding. you feel your breath hitch. 

“will you?” a voice says, “will you trade yourself for your father, take responsibility for his sin?”

“he’s innocent,” you snarl, “you animals.”

“the rose, belle,” he whispers, and you stare at him. a white rose that is wilting beside your bedside would have been the death of him.

“take me,” you say, somehow empty and full at the same time, “if that’s what you need.”

the first night is ugly. you spend it crying. 

over time, the castle learns you, and you learn it. you think you are imagining the talking furniture for most of it. invisible hands whisk food in and out, bring you ball gowns and petticoats and delicate flowers. 

and always, the beast. at first, you were terrified of it. always in the shadows. moving like a ghost, prowling. tall, slim. menacing. never showing any skin, any proof it might be human.

but time and comfort destroy fears. you don’t run when it is in the room, you no longer shield your face in fear. it wears a mask, and this is how you know it really must be beastly. 

it is the second winter when you, playing snowball fights with the statues - you manage to hit the beast in the face. you freeze, and the panic from the day they took your father returns in a firework.

but then the beast is throwing back. and you are laughing. the next morning it is at breakfast with you, and lunch. it comes and goes, and never speaks. laughs, sometimes, you think. talks with its hands. the furniture translates. you learn, because you are good at learning. the hands that mean can i come in? the hands that mean are you hungry? the hands that mean is it okay if i read next to you, here this book is good, i found this for you.

each morning you wake up with white roses by your bedside. you learn to talk a little louder than you’re used to, to move your own hands in a way that acknowledges the beast. it is strange that you were a quiet girl and now you are comfortable shouting. the two of you have your own language, together. it teaches you swordfighting, you teach it dancing. it teaches you archery and you teach it cooking. you walk through the gardens together. there are moments where your hands touch and for some reason you blush like it was kissing. you’ve never had someone who understands you so completely. sometimes you tell it about far-away stories. sometimes you tell it about your village. and sometimes, when you are raw, you tell it about gaston and the marriage you didn’t want and your father and his insanity

one of these nights the beast brings you the mirror. you cry when you see your father. and the beast is pulling you, running, picking out a horse from the stables, gesturing. go, go. you cry when you leave.

you save your father. tell him you’ll bring him back to the beast. do you talk too loud? is gaston only mad you never belonged to him? when the raid starts, you are still taking care of your father. outside, voices, ringing. kill the beast. you think of hands, dancing in the air to speak, and you think you have never heard something so ugly. you’re ashamed to be this species.

you ride in their wake, your father safe. you ride that same panicked race as three years ago to the day. 

you fight, because the beast taught you how. the castle fights, because it is protecting its life. and the beast - you watch the flash of a blade, careful not to kill - the ability you once mistook for savagery. 

it isn’t enough. gaston, and a gun. the three of you stand on the balcony, you in between. again you are begging this man, who means nothing. “leave the beast,” you say, “take me.”

“i’ll have both,” he says, and shoots. you feel the bullet streak by you. the beast is all movement, has pushed you out of the way. they grapple, and you scream when the beast falls, skittering. gaston marches over and you move without thinking. he falls into the night silently. 

you can’t get there quick enough. you gather the beast into your lap, begging be okay. at the mask, you whisper something, and then say it again with your hands. i love you, you say. you were the best thing to happen to me.

the mask slips. a voice says, “belle,” and you are hit with the full force of something that feels like music. you can’t breathe. 

the girl beneath the mask is beautiful. her blonde hair spills across your legs. she touches your face and her hands say i’m okay, and you’re laughing. you kiss her and roses open up in you. 

“i thought you were a beast,” you say with hands and lips a hair above hers, “and here you are, the beauty.”

she smiles sheepishly. it is hard when you are like me. 

your are sobbing. you kiss her again, because you can, because she’s here and perfect and the answer to questions you didn’t know you had been asking. 

her hands, curious, worried, search for your wet cheeks. i’m okay, really, belle. you saved me.

funny, your hands dance, i was about to say the same thing.

7

When I was reading The Hidden Oracle I realized something I’m not sure how to put it into words, it’s so easy to explain it in spanish but I have a hard time explaining in english, but I’m gonna try my best. 

Trials of Apollo is a complete new saga, it’s different than Heroes of Olympus because that saga was more connected to PJO. But TOA? It’s a new beginning, it’s for a new generation of kids, it’s the start of another era, Percy and his friends, the original campers, they are no longer at camp, it’s the time of a new generation of campers, inside the book and outside the book. 

Reading TOA is a bittersweet experience and I can say the reason of that is all the small explanations Riordan had to add to the books, we know who is Paul, we know Tyson is a cyclops and Percy’s brother and we definitely know who Annabeth is, but the new readers? The ones whose first touch to the Riordan world is this book? They have no idea of any of that. They are the new campers, they are the ones who are gonna grow with Meg and Lester and Kayla and Austin and the new batch of campers the same way we did with Percy and Annabeth and Clarisse and Silena and the others.

Having Percy at the start and the end of this book is Riordan’s way of Percy passing the torch to Lester. This is not his story anymore, he has grown up, he is off to college, his era of being a hero is done. Percy is now on his way to becoming a legend and it’s Lester and Meg’s turn to be the heroes. Sure, Percy is not going to disappear off the saga, it’s Riordan we are talking about and Percy is his third son, but his role is the same role Chiron had on the PJO saga Percy is the mentor now, no longer the kid who needed help.  And for me, a girl who sees Percy as my hero, Percy who helped me when I needed someone the most? Is absolutely heartbreaking but at the same time I can’t help but feel happy for all the new kids who are gonna have Lester as his Hero. Because this is just not a new saga, this is a new saga filled with all types of representation to little kids who are gonna read this and see that some campers have two dads, maybe just like them, or look! Apollo likes boys and girls! just like me! All the representation this book has and this saga is going to have just makes my heart so incredibly full and warm. 

And this is why reading Trials of Apollo is so bittersweet to me.

anonymous asked:

So I've been very lazy with my studying toward witch craft and therefore I'm going back to the beginning~ lol. Any advice for a little witch?

Some Advice for Getting Started:

Originally posted by gameboydemakes


*Start with things that interest you!* 

I know i get terribly bored very quickly (gemini curse lmao) so i find that if i dive into stuff i’m interested in learning about, that it will tend to hold my attention longer and help me get back into the swing of things! So in my example one of my first things i researched when i was starting out was about Crystals and their properties/uses in magic! From there i was able to use that as a sort of base jumping off point for my magical practice! And if you find something you were learning about doesn’t seem like it fits you/your style/ your practice then drop it and move on to the next thing! 

*Ask Questions!*

No Questions Are Stupid Questions  No Questions Are Stupid Questions  No Questions Are Stupid Questions!!!! Questions mean you care enough to try and learn more about something! I’m pretty much always here and will try my best to answer as best as i am able And if I can’t i will do my best to help direct you to someone more knowledgeable!


*TAKE YOUR TIME!*

This one is important because most of the time i feel like i see baby/beginner witches try really REALLY hard to “reach the same level” as other witches as quickly as possible when in reality that just hurts THEIR path in the long run. Your path is your own, take it at your own pace. Enjoy the little bumps along the way and find the “Roses of your Path” (the things that make you want to stop and appreciate them: the satisfaction of calling your first Storm, the chill of the night air when you set out your first Full Moon Water, the spark when you find that one crystal.) Enjoy it. Enjoy your path, Enjoy your Craft. 

*Use the Things you Already Own!*

Another thing i see beginners getting hung up on (myself included, i was/am extremely guilty of this lol) is wanting to go out and buy a ton of supplies. try looking around your house for things that can be re purposed. Old Spaghetti Sauce Jars can be cleaned and used as spell jars, deity altars/shrines, or ingredient storage! Take pictures from old magazines and make a collage Altar on paper! Use a composition notebook as your Book Of Shadows! Your old broken glasses case can be used as a case for your portable altar! Dig around and see if there are extra candles you haven’t used in a while! Wash out and save those eggshells from your cooking to use as spell ingredients! It takes some creative thinking but you can reclaim pretty much anything for your craft!

*Look for Bargains!*
For one thing prices can be outrageous for actual craft materials: like Crystals and Gems? Truly truly truly outrageous. So keep your eyes peeled for bargains and deals! Some of the best places to look for things on the cheap would be Dollar Stores, Flea Markets, Thrift Shops, Garage/Estate Sales! Most of the time in those places you can try haggling to get things at a cheaper price (or get more for less.) It really just depends on the place but you can find the most interesting assortments of things! Keep your eyes peeled in your general day to day life as well see if there are sales at your local grocery store for seed packets, seasonal items/holiday items (look for the sales afterwords to really save haha) The internet is a great place to look, i know Ebay has sellers who sell raw crystals/ crystal chunks by the pound. There’s also places to buy spices in bulk too 


*Don’t Compare Your Path to Others!*
Your Path is Your Path, Their Path is Their Path.
Being online and part of the witchy community in tumblr means that there are a lot of ideas being shared from people’s paths and their views on how they think magic should be practiced. What works for them might not work for you and vice versa. Only YOU can decide what is best for you and your path. and on that note:

*Figure Out What YOU Want Out of Your Path!*
When you get some time, sit down and write out all the things you want to get from your path and think critically about how you want magic to work in your daily life. Do you want it to be Super Formal or more casual? perhaps a mix of the two?  Test the waters! Try things once and if you don’t like it then you know and can move on to the things that work better for your lifestyle/craft/path!
Some examples from my list that i can think of right now would be:
-Better knowledge of Crystals/ Crystal remedies and their healing properties
-Daily research -aka tumblr-
-Appreciating Nature more (Whenever i go on walks with my dog i try to pick up some litter if/when i see it)
-Daily Deity appreciation  -aka deity aesthetic reblogs to @theemeraldgod & Pintrest-

Helpful Links for Beginners:
Sww Master List of Tags- Here’s my main hub of things that i tag feel free to look and see if something interests you!
Altars/ Altar set up Advice- My long winded post about what to put on your Altar.
My Beginner Tag// My Beginner 101 Tag- There are two tags because they have similar information, the 101 tag is for more ‘Hey I just started today what do I need to know’


Anyways thanks for sending this in! I’ve been meaning to make one of these for a while and this finally gave me the excuse ^^

-oOo-
StormWaterWitch

The types and what I think of them based on what I've seen from my friends

(Not very original I know but I need to do something during this boring af evening)

ENFP
- cute
- childish
- full of ideas
- optimistic
- RaNdOm
-PUNS AND MEMES
- kinda geeky
-have a lot of feelings
- secretly evil

ENTJ
- ‘I wanna be the very best like no one ever waaaaas’
-natural leader
-considerate
- SO. DAMN. LUCKY
- easy going

INTP
-lazy
-smart
- can actually be very talkative if they like the subject
- PrOcRaStInAtIoN
- very funny in their own way
-trapped in their own world

ENTP
-have been told at least once in their life 'you remind me of Barney Stinson’
-have 2000000+ projects at the same time
-actually finish like two of them
-never shut up
-can be good at everything
-but can only be excellent at bullshiting their way through life
-zero empathie
-dad jokes
-socially akward but still manages to look cool

ISTP
-take grammar way too seriously
-frank and direct
-meticulous
-witty
-look intimidating
-can actually be very affectionate if they feel like it
-strong mentally and physically
-know martial arts


ISFJ
-warm and nice
-so calm, it’s relaxing to be around them
-excellent listenners
-shaped like a friend
-have louder reactions than everyone else during movies or roller coaster rides
-don’t dislike a lot of things
-litteraly everyone like them
-easy to live with

ISFP
-FEEEEELIIIIINGS
-don’t like to be challenged
-have strong valors
-don’t understand if you don’t share said valors
-don’t overcome difficulties easily
-EXTREMELY SENSITIVE
-hate criticism, even constructive ones
-too easily offended
-moody
-trustworthy (when they like you)

INTJ
-seem cold and calculating
-make the best of friends if you take the time to know them
-snarky
-quiet
-if they don’t like you you’re dead
-have low patience
-analytical
-don’t handle feelings at all

INFJ
-MYSTERIOUS
-they know everything about you
-but you know nothing about them
-sarcasm
-take time to feel confortable around new people (like 2 years or so)
-long period of awkward silence
-(the silence is awkward for you, no them)
- people tend to like them but still think they’re 'weird’
-secretly a nerd

ESTP
-stereotype of the popular jock
-athletic af
-class clown
-perfectionists
-everyone love them
-always quoting lines from their favorite movies
-want to experience everything
-often come to class with a broken leg or something
-have the kind of humor that everyone like except NTs

ESFP
-'girl’ ESTP
-love to party
-will do stupid stuff just cause they felt like it
-will cry about said stupid things
-GOSSIP
-very loving persons
-their spiritual goddess might be Aphrodite
-loud
-funny

ESFJ
-overprotecting grandma
-will bake you cookies but will be highly offended if you’re not hungry for now
-generous, but will expect you to return the favor
-don’t like when people don’t agree with them
-don’t like to be out of their comfort zone
-can be bossy
-talkative

INFP
-full of crazy, great ideas
-bad at maths
-love to read
-RaVeNcLaW
-extremely moody
-open minded
-like to learn new stuff
-LOTS OF STRESS
-good at acting without even trying

ISTJ
-Like to follow the rules
-but is not afraid to bend them if they logically think they’re stupid
-bossy
-good student
-patient
-will glady help their classmates if they haven’t understood the lesson
-have difficulties to think out of the box
-book smart
-organized

And I don’t know any ENFJ or ESTJ. (I mostly have NTs and INFPs friends.)

Also sorry if the ISFP is a bit harsh but the ones I know drive me nuts.

This is of course not representative of all the types at all.

Sundays
Or more accurately, a poem about The Love Of My Life.
I believe it was this past weekend when I told you that I loved Sundays
And I do love Sundays, but that’s not the point
I told you I love Sundays because they remind me of home
That the whole concept and feeling of Sundays feels like what home would feel like
But have I told you that when I’m with you I get that same feeling?
Have I told you that you make me feel like I’m at home?
Have I told you that you make me feel like it’s Sunday?
You make me feel so safe and so secure
You make me feel like tomorrow’s Monday and life’s coming at me so fast
You make me feel like morning cartoons and full bowls of cereal
You make me feel like maybe everything will be okay
When I am with you time is an afterthought, something I don’t even believe in
A concept
When I am with you I feel like maybe father time speeds up the clocks
I feel like maybe he can’t stand to see us so in love and so happy together
Because he himself cannot be in love with the one he truly wants
How can you possibly love a concept?
My favorite part about this poem is that it’s hypocritical in itself
How can I love Sunday if time doesn’t exist? If it’s a concept?
But then I have to ask myself
How can I know I love you?
Isn’t love a concept along with time?
I know I love you because when I see you smile or laugh or chuckle
I feel like Sunday.
—  conejaaa 
transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017.
Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.

I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.

I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through.
To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started.

As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Forgive me if you've been asked this already but at what moment do you think Clarke fell in love with Lexa, or realized she was in love with her? I believe Eliza had trouble answering this at a con (I think she said it was before the bow though) so I'm wondering what you think.

Mmm that’s hard to say, and honestly, that’s kinda what I love about it. Because you can’t always exactly pinpoint the moment you fall in love with someone, right? Maybe it’s a feeling that grows gradually but unstoppable, maybe it’s like a wave hitting you at once, it varies. And that’s how I think it was for Clarke.

The way I see it, it was sudden for her at first and then everything slowed down and it naturally developed. It wasn’t love yet in the beginning, but there was definitely a realization that she had feelings for Lexa. Just look at her face after storming out of Lexa’s tent in 2x14. 

Why else would she looked so bothered? If she had just been upset about their argument she would have had an angry face. Instead she looks like she’s literally trying to physically restrain her feelings, whatever they may be. She takes that deep, shaky breath in an attempt to collect herself because, what the hell just happened inside that tent? Did Lexa really just confess she has feelings for me? And why does it affect me so much? What am I feeling? This is what I think is going through her mind. And then of course we have the confirmation of this, when she gladly replies to Lexa’s kiss. Even after she rejects her, there is no indication of that being a definitive rejection. There is no feeling of “I’m sorry, but I don’t reciprocate.” Clarke is not ready for a relationship, and it’s right that she was honest with Lexa, but she rejects her in literally the softest way possible, AND leaves the door open for the future. Not yet. That means she already sees herself considering a relationship with Lexa in the future, after healing, when she’s finally ready. And look at how tender and somewhat tamely longing her gaze is even after she rejected Lexa.

She is definitely aware of her feelings for Lexa here. But then the betrayal happens and ah, they take 46 steps back.

Now, of course, Lexa’s betrayal causes Clarke to close herself off. Clarke is angry at Lexa, she’s angry at herself, she’s in pain, every other feeling pales in comparison. And obviously, so much of Clarke’s suffering is tied to what Lexa did, so it’s definitely not a surprise that romance is out of the question when they first meet again. Clarke’s pain is consuming her, she is definitely not thinking about whatever she and Lexa had. And yet…

This isn’t a romantic moment by any means. But we’re talking about Clarke realizing she loves Lexa, and I don’t think we can’t gloss over this moment. When I say that I don’t romanticize this scene, it’s because this is not a cute moment. This isn’t a “oh my God, she loves her!” moment, this moment is sad. It’s painful, it’s heartbreaking, but it’s so damn important. Clarke can’t kill Lexa here. How much easier would it be for her to shut her heart out entirely, to blame Lexa for everything and just kill her without feeling anything? I bet in that moment, a part of Clarke wants that. But Clarke feels, and she feels for Lexa. She has these feelings and they won’t go away, not even when she’s at her lowest. So yeah, not a romantic moment, but definitely essential to understand Clarke’s complicated feelings for Lexa.

After the bow, Clarke is a little more trusting towards Lexa, but she’s definitely still closed off, she’s not ready to expose her heart yet. And we get to the “I’m doing it for my people” episode, 3x04. Right from the very beginning, Clarke spends the entire episode trying to find a way to keep Lexa safe, to protect her. But every single time she voices her concerns to Lexa or hell, even Titus, her preoccupation feels far more personal than political. She’s worried, she’s agitated, she even seems angry that Lexa won’t listen to her and step away from the duel. It’s a crescendo of apprehension and frustration and anxiousness as every single one of Clarke’s attempts fails, crescendo that culminates in an emotional explosion.

The second gif is particularly telling. Titus interrupts them, the moment is gone and Clarke finds herself having to face what just happened. Look at her face, at how she looks away from Lexa and sucks a breath through her teeth. She’s restraining her feelings, but she’s a little too late this time. And it’s not only Lexa who is shaken by Clarke’s emotional outburst, it’s Clarke herself too. She doesn’t catch herself in time and now she can’t pretend with herself that those feelings aren’t there. I think this is when the true first “shift” after the betrayal happens. Clarke wants to keep Lexa at arm’s length but Lexa might very well die that same day and, despite any resolution she had, the thought terrifies Clarke. And she’s so scared that she’s never going to see Lexa again that…

I could write an essay on all the emotions Clarke experiences before and throughout and at the end of Lexa’s duel, but the gist of it is that during this tense moment, with Lexa’s life on the line, she can’t bring herself to hide her feelings. It’s all there, on her face. 

Only when things settle down she is able to collect herself again. Lexa comes visit her that night and we see Clarke pull her walls up again. “I was just doing what was right for my people.” BUT! Even if Clarke is not ready to open up her heart again, that scene is infused with intimacy. Even Clarke’s “rejection” is filled with emotion.

Clarke is the opposite of cold here. The way I see it, she is pulling away because she’s realizing she’s close to giving in, but she’s not yet ready for that. It’s so clear that here Lexa is talking about what happened at Mount Weather too, this is another quiet apology that Clarke obviously recognizes. If she went with her feelings, Clarke would have to admit that she does understand Lexa, that in her heart maybe she’s already forgiven her. But in that moment it’s too overwhelming, so she looks away and avoids the conversation, avoids Lexa’s gaze, avoids having to focus on her feelings.

She literally keeps having to look away because things get too intense but at the same time there’s a tenderness in her eyes that she can’t hide. And once Lexa is gone and she can breathe… bam

All the feelings she restrained, everything she tried to hide merely minutes ago hits her full force. I said I think Clarke’s love for Lexa developed gradually, naturally, but if I had to pick a specific moment and say that’s when Clarke realized she’s in love with Lexa, it would be this one.

By the time we get to 3x06, I do believe Clarke knows and has accepted she is in love with Lexa, but she’s still struggling to admit it out loud, especially to Lexa. That episode happens roughly 7-10 days after the events of Hakeldama, and when we see Clarke and Lexa again, they are closer than ever. There is a sense of intimacy, of almost domesticity between them. They are comfortable with each other’s presence. There’s not really a reason for them being in the same room in that scene: Lexa fell asleep while reading and Clarke is drawing (there are other sheets in her folder, which makes me think she was drawing other things before focusing on Lexa). They don’t have to talk or interact, they simply are together.

When Lexa wakes up from the nightmare, Clarke doesn’t hesitate to jump next to her and comfort her, with soothing touches and calming, reassuring words. And then we get to the moment Lexa notices the drawing. A lot has been said about Lexa’s face, but instead look at Clarke’s.

This is the exact opposite of what I was talking about in 3x04. Lexa sees the drawing and is taken aback. That she doesn’t know whether she should hope for anything is another story, but the look she gives Clarke is very telling. And Clarke doesn’t avoid it. Yes, her first instinct is to play it off as something meaningless. “Uh, that’s not- it’s not finished yet.” But then Lexa looks at her, confused, surprised, a tiny bit hopeful, and Clarke meets her gaze and they just stare at each other. Look at that little pause she does before lifting her eyes. That’s when she chooses not to hide. As I said, I think that here Clarke has come to terms with her feelings for Lexa, but here for the first time, she doesn’t hide them from Lexa. Her look is just as telling as Lexa’s. They aren’t saying a word and this is one of their most honest, important conversations. Clarke is silent, but her eyes are speaking, her untold feelings are there, and maybe letting Lexa know isn’t so unfathomable anymore. Maybe, maybe Clarke this is the closest Clarke has been to being ready.

So this is what i think. The way I see it, it’s tricky and complicated and simply beautiful.

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

FANFICTIONS RECCOMENDATION

Ok so, I’ve spent all the easter festivities reading fanfiction, especially Yuri On Ice’s! ( ´ ♡ ` )

So I thought “What about giving credits to these AMAZING works of art and write a little recommendation post on tumblr?”


Because of the enormous amount of ff I decided to divide them in categories: the first part will be about 

OMEGAVERSE!

So if you doesn’t feel comfortable about mpreg, and AOB dynamics pass this post! And  always read the warnings before the ff (ι´Д`)ノ! Some of them will analyse sensitive theme that can offend or triggers someone!  

HERE WE ARE:

Originally posted by asparagusoup


All eyes on me by Kizuna_Auri  

(Ongoing) Vikuuri

Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) OK THIS FF IS AMAZING, I didn’t know I needed a CamBoy + AOB ff until I read it! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
There is a lot of Smut, really! But even a lot of feelings and cute dorks, they really are obscene and cute at the same time. Totally recommended!



Seventh Heaven (The Lion and the Eagle) by NinjaMatty

(Ongoing) Viktuuri

The war is over. Katsuki Yuuri just wants to go home and forget about it all. But his heroics brought him the unwanted attention of the Emperor of his nation. As a thanks for his bravery, he is gifted an Omega barbarian. He tries to be positive about it, but the present ends up being a poisoned gift indeed. Is keeping Viktor worth the trouble?

I LOVE IT. Really, this mixed a Royalty/war Au with the Omegaverse dynamics without be boring and repetitive!


Panta Rhei by Kashoku

(Ongoing) Viktuuri

This was a mistake. Viktor needed to somehow pry Yuuri off of him and leave the room immediately. Viktor was drunk, and Yuuri was so far beyond gone that there wasn’t even a word for it. But the alpha in Viktor was having an incredibly difficult time resisting the pungent scent of cherry blossoms and ocean that filled his nose. Viktor snapped.

They had been reckless.

Totally recommended! It’s full of Drama and cuteness at the same time!

Originally posted by thranduilings



You Can’t Plan for Everything by RivDeV

(Ongoing) Viktuuri

Yuuri forgets that he has a scheduled heat coming up until it’s just a couple weeks away. He scrambles to get everything ready in time, including deciding whether he’ll spend it alone or with someone. Victor only wants to help.


Ok this fanfiction doesn’t need to be recommended because EVERYONE knows it. And actually it’s one of my favourite at all!!



Shared Gravity by PhoenixWaller 

(Ongoing) Viktuuri

Yuri Katsuki doesn’t advertise his alpha status, in fact he’d rather it be relatively unknown. He feels that he’s never fit the stereotype, and is much happier blending into the background. However, much to his dismay, his alpha instincts are awakened one summer morning. 

At first he’s angry, believing that his new coach, Victor Nikiforov, has brought back an omega in heat for a day of passion. But when he intrudes to order the couple to a safer location he learns the truth. Victor, the most decorated male figure skater ever, has his own secret. From there an inexplicable gravity grows between them, their shared secrets pulling them together in ways that both learn to cherish.

Well this fanfiction is very particular and emotional! I’m really enjoying it.


Someday by Heyitsrah

(Almost Completed) Viktuuri / Otayuri


A now-retired Victor and Yuri suffer the loss of their first baby when Yuri miscarries, and when the time comes for them to try again, they learn that patience really is a virtue.


The best things in life do not come easily.


This is fuckin emotional guys, It’s just that is a very sensitive theme and it totally breaks my heart  

Originally posted by ffsillkms


My Sanctuary 

(Ongoing) Viktuuri


Omegas are rare… like super rare… Male omegas, even more so. Yuuri is one. How is he going to tell Victor? 

Love it… Oh, a lot of shit is going to happen here, embrace yourself!!! 


Not your usual love story by arcsinx

(Ongoing) Otayuri

Baranovskaya’s new face, Yuri Plisetsky (22), who shot in Venice for Vogue’s last edition, was seen accompanied by Otabek Altin (25) as they left a coffeeshop in St Petersburg yesterday. The DJ and voted 2017’s hottest musician, Altin was in the city to compose for Victor Nikiforov’s (30) new movie production. The couple met at the Paris Fashion Week after-party(image) and have been appointed to be secretly dating ever since. An intimate friend claims Altin to be completely besotted with the Russian beauty, having even gifted him a $35,000 diamond collar necklace!

For every Otayuri shippers, this is beautiful!

Originally posted by rirens


Not Alone by DazzledGhosts

(Ongoing) Viktuuri


Katsuki Yuuri has been training alongside Victor in St. Petersburg for a while. He has been so careful for no one to know that he’s an omega. But while skating one day, Victor notices something different. What’s that smell coming from Yuuri’s neck? Without realizing it, he finds a scent suppressant patch on Yuuri’s neck and curiosity wins the better of him. He tugs and is hit directly with that smell of cardamom and honeysuckle.

Victor’s never experienced a such a rut before. And all he knows is that he only wants Yuuri. Not because he’s an omega, but because Yuuri is…. well, is Yuuri. And the Russian refuses to hurt him. To the point where he will bite and hurt himself in the place of marking the other unwillingly. But of course the younger skater is unaware to Victor’s affections.

Unaware to the desperate need and love of Victor Nikiforov.

If you like how dynamics works, this is the fanfiction for you!!!


For now that’s all!

Originally posted by kinbari14

 I really enjoyed reading these ff and I want to share them with you all. These fanfictions update really fast and are really amazing! (≧ω≦)

Let me know if you have read them yet or if you’re going to enjoy them!

´ ▽ ` )ノ  Lia  

Writing is Hard, pt 8: Slow and Steady

Summary: Dean shows you his favorite kind of sex.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Warning: Smut, dirty talk

Word Count: 3100ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO

The motel door opens quietly and you hear Dean shuffle in, his footsteps easy to recognize. You don’t move, body too exhausted to even roll over in bed and say hi.

Sam has to know that Dean comes to your room every night now. Actually, Dean just goes straight in with you now more often than not, leaving Sam to himself. You’ve never discussed it, but you suspect that Sam’s silence on the matter of you and Dean is his thank you for finally having some privacy on a regular basis.

Either way, you aren’t remotely surprised that Dean is here. You listen to boots being kicked off, a gun being placed on the night stand, and clothes being shuffled off. He’s down to his boxers when he slides beneath the covers.

Keep reading

Whipped...friends??

Y/N would have never imagined the amount of attention being Harry’s best friend would bring. There’s also always speculations, suspicions that the two might be more than friends, given the fact that when they go out, it’s like they might as well be joined at the hip. Where Harry is on a day off, Y/N is sure to follow, and the paparazzi gets pictures of it all. But Y/N’s always been just a friend. It’s not like she trails behind him like a puppy, no. Harry just always loves having her around, finds comfort in the way she talks to him without a hint of glorification. Tracing back to the beginning of their friendship, Y/N didn’t tip toe around Harry, trying to make sure to not say the wrong thing, never really made impressing Harry a priority. And Harry really appreciated that.

And the relentless bother and questions of “are you two dating?” doesn’t end with the public, no, it continues, and probably gets more intense coming from their group of friends.

Whenever Y/N steps away from Harry’s side, there’s always one of the boys whispering to him about how they’re sure she’s got him wrapped around her pretty little finger. How at the call of his name, Harry never thinks twice about dropping everything and tending to her wants and needs. They make it sound awful in a way, as if Y/N is always needy of Harry and demanded his attention. But they don’t mean it like that really, just like bothering him about it, specially because he gets all worked up in trying to defend her.

They even comment about how they’ve taken notice to the fact Harry’s smile can stretch for miles at the mention of her name, which Harry has never denied. Only nods his head in amusement at the fact others notice.

And maybe their secret little escapes to what they refer to as “friend dates” are no help. They’ll be having a night in on the sofa, Harry sat at the edge of it, elbow propped on the arm rest, mindlessly scrolling through texts and thumbs swift on the screen, typing replies to friends. And obviously Y/N’s with him, lying down and feet resting on his lap, her head flat on the cushion, eyes shut because she quite enjoys just lying about in a silent room, knowing Harry’s there. And it’s not until he shuffles to stand up, pushing her legs off him in the process, that she opens her eyes and follows his body across the room where he doubles over to slip on his YSL boots before he goes for his coat. With a small whisper of “ye’ comin’?” Y/N is sure to follow his steps. Most nights like that they end up in some random bar or restaurant, sat on a stool or a booth, laughing and eating. Harry will often opt to sit next to her rather than in front, taking the chance to lay his head on her shoulder. Even kiss at her neck sometimes.

And when the boys catch a glimpse of the paparazzi photos taken of them all cuddly on a random Tuesday night at a local cafe, Harry’s phone just about overloads with texts from Niall going on about “I knew it!” And “just ask her, man!”

So no, it’s not out of the ordinary for Louis to make a ‘wuh-PSSSH’ sound followed by something snarky like “so whipped, mate. And she’s not even ye’ girlfriend,” when he notices Harry’s stare trailing to where Y/N goes as she makes breakfast for the lot. Harry tries to disregard the comment as Louis takes a seat next to him at the kitchen island.

“What’re you guys going on about over there?” Y/N asks, giggling to herself, “got Harry blushing and all.”

And of course with no chill what so ever, Liam pats Harry on the back, a devilish smile playing on his lips, “Harry here has found himself head over heels.”

Y/N can’t deny that her heart sinks a little at that, but she doesn’t let it faze her, or at least she doesn’t show it. “Really?? Oh who is she??”

“Yeah, Harry! Tell our lovely Y/N who’s the lucky woman!” Harry would hope Niall would be the one not to indulge in his current tormenting.

But Harry can only look at Y/N, her eyes locked on his from across the room. And Harry swears he’s never seen her look at him the way she is right now.

And the boys don’t mean to over tease him this time, just wish he’d finally let it out and tell her because they’re rather sure Y/N feels the same. It’s hard not to notice the way she looks at him, eyes full of adoration and dare they say, love.

When the air has fallen silent for far too long, Liam decides to change the subject for Harry’s sake and stands up to give Y/N a hand with the pouring of the beverages.

“You two have gotten to the point where you grocery shop together.” Liam starts again when Y/N steps away for more milk, “you cook together. You do laundry together. You’re always going on dates. You go with her for manis and pedis, and I’m sure you enjoy it, too.”

“So wha’?? I like spendin’ time with her.” Harry doesn’t really see why that’s so bad, being whipped and all.

“You sleep together,” Louis chimes in, “hell, wouldn’t be surprised if you showered together.”

Now that’s just nonsense.

“Sod off ye’ prick.”


It’s been a few weeks since the day Y/N found out Harry’s interested in someone. And she’d be lying if she said it doesn’t keep her awake at night. Awake while she’s lying next to Harry because of the fact that they’d much rather sleep together than alone. But when she looks over at him, she can’t help but smile.

She’s lying on her side, eyes tracing his, rid of any wrinkles they get when he smiles or frowns. They trace all of him. From his eyes to his eyebrows, then his cheeks and to his nose, where she kisses lightly, careful not to wake him. He only crinkles it for a short second, to which she only smiles. Her eyes linger down his neck, tracing every muscle and crevice until she’s looking at the tattoos on his chest, the steady rise and fall of it has her breathing adapting to his.

It’s when she looks at his parted bubble gum pink lips that she raises a hand, her index finger ghosting over his bottom lip. The touch has Harry stirring, eyes open for a moment before he puckers his lips to peck her finger, a smile on his face. He flutters his eyes shut for a second before resting his hand on her waist and rubbing his thumb gently on the exposed skin. He moans in content, pulls her body closer to his and rests his lips on her hair line.

“Go t'sleep, pet.”

And why oh why did she ever think some friendly flirting and bed sharing with her best friend could never lead to any emotional attachment.


The cuddles hasn’t stopped. Harry’s lingering kisses and hugs hasn’t stopped. The boys teasing on Harry behind Y/N’s back hasn’t stopped. Y/N sleeping in Harry’s bed hasn’t stopped. And Y/N’s constant self reminder that Harry might just be in love with someone else has not stopped.

If she’s being quite honest, she’s not liking the way the boys snicker and whisper to Harry when she walks off. And she really doesn’t like how whatever and whoever they’re whispering about is making Harry blush and smile sheepishly like crazy. Wishes she knew what they’re always being so secretive about. But giving it a second thought, maybe she doesn’t wanna know. It’s all the same to her now though.

The movie on the telly doesn’t seem to distract her anymore, not from her thoughts which are taking over her mind the more time she spends in Harry’s home. And to add to that, the second she steps back into the room with a bowl of popcorn the boys go silent. It makes her feel awful…left out, but she’s sure they don’t mean to do it. She should be thankful right? At least they’re nice enough not to talk about Harry’s girl in front of her, or maybe that’s just something she wants to believe.

“Oh popcorn.” Niall’s first to reach out and grab a handful before she’s even had the chance to get to her seat next to Harry.

“Thanks, love.” Harry whispers, kissing her cheek the second she sits down.

She notices out of the corner of her eye how Louis smirks and nods his head when Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder. What’s so funny??

The moment Harry presses another kiss to the top of her head is the moment she realizes she’s had enough. It’s the moment she realizes she can’t keep pretending and letting herself fall even more. Not after what Liam said.

“I have to go. It’s getting pretty late.” This catches everyone off guard, especially Harry.

When she stands up to leave, his fingers around her wrist are quick to make her stop and have her look down at him, still sat on the sofa. “Wha’ do ye’ mean? Ye’ always spend the night, poppet.”

His brows are furrowed now, grip tight on her wrist, fearing that if he loosens it she might just slip away.

Of course they can’t ignore the other people in the room though, so when Y/N’s eyes avert to the boys, Harry is quick to stand up and lead them away.

“Everythin’ a'right?” His eyes scan hers for answers, his hand now cupping her neck, thumb rubbing soothingly at her jaw.

The cool of his rings on her skin keep her at ease. But the uncertainty in her eyes has Harry feeling all types of useless.

“Tell me wha’s wrong, little one. Wha’ can I do to make ye’ feel better?”

And those words would have made no sense if it wasn’t for the sudden feeling of Harry wiping away a stray tear she didn’t notice she’d shed.

She can’t. She can’t break down. Not in front of him. What can she say for him to let her go??

“Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

But she’s sure he doesn’t believe her, not one bit. He knows her too well.

And she can tell he’s about to say something else, and she knows if she lets him, she’s sure to fall back into whatever they have.

“I’ve really got to go. I’ve got a date in an hour and I have to go get ready.”

As much bullshit of an excuse as that is, Harry’s grip on her wrist loosens, and the hand on her neck falls.

And she takes the opportunity to slip out the door.



Whipped…friends?? Or.. (Part Two)

6

False Bay Writer’s Cabin in San Juan Islands

This 500 square foot island cabin designed by Olson Kundig serves as a private writer’s retreat and guest cottage. The owners wanted a space that would feel totally connected to the natural landscape, allowing them to take full advantage of the mild climate, scenic views and the proximity to wildlife; at the same time, they needed the cabin to be easily secured when not in use.

The cabin is basically a glass house surrounded by three wooden slat decks and topped with an inverted hip roof with deep overhangs. Through a system of hydraulic winches, wire rope, pivoting sheaves and lead blocks, these decks can be raised to serve as shutters, completely closing off the cabin. Open, the shutter-decks are outdoor living space, connecting to the interior with 10 foot tall windows and sliding doors. The south shutter-deck can be opened independently of the other two, and an interior fireplace can rotate 180 degrees to be enjoyed from the exterior. The inverted roof forces water to drain to the rear of the cabin, eliminating a drip edge on the shutter-decks.

now that i’ve begun working more with energy, i wanted to share my methods of casting circles! when i first started working with energy, it was really hard to find references for casting circles, especially ones not dealing with the traditional Wiccan god/goddess. here are some methods and uses of casting circles!

Why Cast a Circle?

the primary reason i cast circles is to protect me from outside energy influences. most people associate circles to protection from ‘malevolent’ spirits, however, it’s just a great barrier in general!

here are some following scenarios i cast circles:

  • divination- to protect me from energies that might influence my cards or my interpretation o the cards
  • spellwork- pretty self-explanatory. i cast circles to protect from energies i don’t want in my spells, or from potential spirit attraction.
  • meditation- again, for energy use and to also not be disturbed from anything spiritual.

Methods of Casting

1 - Invoking Elements

a very basic way, if not the go-to way, of casting is to place each of the four elements at each of the cardinal directions. Earth at the north, Air in the east, Fire at the south, and Water in the west.

fire

water

earth

  • stones or crystals (this is what i love to use! just be wary that some stones are aligned with other elements. clear quartz is a go-to.)
  • salt
  • dirt (from your backyard or specific, such as hospital or graveyard. make sure to cleanse it.)
  • herbs (especially roots)
  • brown or black colored items

air

alternatively, any of these could be replaced with a tarot card of the corresponding suit! (wands for fire, cups for water, pentacles for earth, and swords for air).

to close the circle, walk clockwise starting in the east (air) and complete a full walk around the circle. do this as many times as you feel needed to envision a complete circle! after your use for it is done, unwind it by walking the same number of times counter-clockwise.

note: if you live in the southern hemisphere, you may want to reverse fire and earth in your directions and walk counter-clockwise to close the circle, and clockwise to end it.

2 - Envisioning

this is a very, very simple way to cast a circle! if you have very little time, simply imagine a ring of light around your workspace. you could align color to purpose as well.

the only downsides to this method include the fact that it may not be as strong as a physical circle for beginners especially, as i have learned many times over as i find energy that i don’t want in the circle. on top of this, to make it very successful, you may have to keep this image in your head throughout your spell or energy work, which may distract or hurt your concentration.

however, like i said before, it’s very easy, discreet, and requires no clean up! with practice, it could be very easy to maintain.

3 - Salt Circle

by simply spreading salt in a circle clockwise (or counter-clockwise depending on your location), you can create a strong barrier. as you walk around, envision your purpose of protection and safety.

if you are working outside, do not use salt. it will kill plant life! instead, consider alternatives such as: egg shells, diluted salt water, crushed herbs, flower petals, etc.

if working inside, consider setting out foil, cloth, or a tarp for easy cleanup. 

4 - Cleansing the Room Itself

if you find that you for some reason cannot cast a circle, or maybe are just starting out, consider cleansing the entire room instead!

some methods include:

  • smoke cleansing (NOT smudging. please do not call this action smudging unless it is part of YOUR culture.)
  • salt or protective mixture
  • dance/song
  • salt/water spray
  • incense and candles

for smoke cleansing, light your bundle and start facing eastward, spreading the smoke and asking for protection from either the corresponding element or any deities/spirits/etc. you worship. move clockwise or counterclockwise.

for salt or protection mixtures, simply place a small pile in each corner of the room or at the cardinal directions.

dance and song can celanse the room when accompanied with smoke especially. 

the salt water spray can be used similar to the protection mixture – spray a little in each corner or at the cardinal directions.

incense and candles can be placed in corners, the directions, or just throughout the room to act as protective energy.

Final Notes

  • make sure to remove your circle after you’re done!! leaving it up isn’t safe and could be draining on your energy or health.
  • try not to leave the circle in the middle of your work, if it can be avoided. ive had to do it before and nothing bad happened, but sometimes it ocould break the circle, or bring unwanted energy or precense in.
  • do your absolute best to have all your materials in the circle before you cast it. bringing items that were not in the circle before could carry energy that you just do not want in your circle. i’ve messed up plenty spells because of it already. if it is really necessary, cleanse the item as thoroughly as you can (quickly if you need to), and enter the circle from the east.

if these methods don’t work right away, don’t worry! these take lots of practice. some easy ways to try casting daily include:

  • cast a circle before you meditate
  • cleanse your room before you do homework for a safe space to work
  • if you have a form of divination, cast a circle before drawing a daily reading (i do this in the morning to see how the day will go or seek advice for the day!).

good luck!