and it reminds me every day that no matter what we go through

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

Lockers - Peter Parker

request -  hey, welcome to tumblr ! great username XD i was wondering if you could do a scenario where the reader was in the elevator then as spiderman pulls her up, she recognizes his voice then the next day, she confronts peter in at school, in an empty classroom and says she knows who he is and then hugs him out of nowhere and so much fluff ugh. thank you and i wish you the best with the blog !

a/n - i went through many different plots/settings with this fic so it took a while but, writing this was really fun. it sort of become rly super duper long so i apologize for that LOL and hopefully the fluff isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

The elevator began to shake even more, dropping one more time before I felt as if our fate was waiting for us down at the bottom floor. The broken glass made it hard to stand up, but what was even worse was that I was the only one left in the doomed elevator.

“Grab onto my hand!” The officer shouted at me, extending his arm to be the best way he could. I tried to desperately to reach it, but I couldn’t. The mix of adrenaline and fear had struck my body to the max.

“Sir, I-I can’t.” I cried, my heart breaking even more. Just then, the elevator went down another foot, and I felt my back press up against the tarnished wall. All I could hear was the harsh beat of my heart and the yells for help from the people up top.

“(Y/N) please! Try again!” I heard Liz yell from above. The situation had become to surreal to me that I almost became numb to it, with what could happen in a matter of seconds not scaring me as much as it should be.

Before I could register anything else, the sound of glass breaking snapped me back into reality. But surprisingly, it wasn’t from the elevator.

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SKAM S04E04 Clip 4 - The Best Of Islam

NOORA: What is this again? We’re here for my sake?
SANA: Yes, of course we’re here for your sake.
NOORA: Just to look at muslim boys and stuff.
SANA: Aren’t you tired of white boys now? I thought we had to get out, meet new types of people, see that there’s plenty of fish in the sea. You know what I mean?
NOORA: But you said muslim boys just use Norwegian girls.
SANA: It’s good that you’re converting to Islam, then.
NOORA: Don’t turn around now, okay? But are those boys looking at us?
SANA: How shouldl I see if they’re looking at us if I can’t turn around?
NOORA: Oh my God, they’re coming over!
SANA: Stay cool.
NOORA: Stay cool? I’m really fuckign cool! Hi there!
SANA: Hi!
NOORA: Hi.
BOY1: Can we sit here?
SANA AND NOORA: Yes, of course.
JONAS: It’s okay? Great!
SANA: Sit down!
NOORA: Hi! Yes, hi.
ALI: Ali.
NOORA: Noora.
ALI: Nice to meet you.
NOORA: Noora, it’s a pleasure.
SANA: Sana, it’s a pleasure.
ALI: Ali, it’s a pleasure.
JONAS: Jonas. It was sana?
SANA: Yes.

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House Rules (M)

Originally posted by nnochu

Summary: Frustration over recent political changes sets you off, and your loving husband helps you see the error of your ways.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 7,492

Warning: Dom!Yoongi, husband/wife relationship, teasing, punishment, edging, ass play, dirty talk, political themes

A/N: I could probably add more warnings. Rest assured, this is not vanilla. Enjoy!

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

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

‘  all i need is for you to stay by my side.  ’
‘  all of the love songs remind me of you.  ’
‘  all of the words in the world can’t show how much you mean to me.  ’
‘  boy,  could i use your love  &  affection right now.  ’
‘  concept:  we’re both awake at 4 a.m.  i call you to hear your sleepy voice.  ’
‘  cute thing that you do:  the most stereotypical giggle  &  then hiding your face.  ’
‘  don’t let this be temporary.  ’
‘  don’t worry about me.  i just want to know you’re okay.  ’
‘  every day i get to see your gorgeous face is a good day.  ’
‘  everything about our relationship feels so natural  &  perfect.  ’
‘  feelings change,  but mine about you won’t.  ’
‘  hey,  guess what?  i love you.  ’
‘  hold me tight  &  tell me you love me.  ’
‘  i always daydream about living with you.  ’
‘  i am so exhausted,  but i’d sleep so much better with your arms around me.  ’
‘  i can’t help but imagine living with you years from now.  ’
‘  i can’t keep setting fires to keep you warm.  ’
‘  i could listen to you talk about the things you love forever.  ’
‘  i don’t think i’ll ever stop wanting you.  ’
‘  i don’t want those memories any more.  ’
‘  i forget who  &  where i am when we kiss.  ’
‘  i get that warm,  pleasant feeling in my chest when i’m with you.  ’
‘  i hope with all my heart that you love me like i love you.  ’
‘  i hope you feel the same way you make me feel.  ’
‘  i just want to softly cuddle with you  &  count the freckles on your cheek  &  i want to run my fingers through your hair.  ’
‘  i know it’s getting scary,  but you’ve just got your perfect self out of bed  &  do the best with what you’ve got.  i believe in you.  ’
‘  i love looking into your squinted eyes while we laugh.  ’
‘  i love when you give me little kisses on my hand  &  cheek  &  neck.  it makes me feel so loved.  ’
‘  i never thought i’d deserve the love you give me.  ’
‘  i think you’ve shown me what love really is.  ’
‘  i want the only thing between our bodies to be our love.  ’
‘  i want the only thing between our love to be our lips.  ’
‘  i want to bury my face in the crook of your neck until we both fall asleep.  ’
‘  i want to listen to the beautiful song of your voice for hours.  ’
‘  i want to make you just as happy as you make me.  ’
‘  i want to wake up to your smile.  ’
‘  i want to wrap my arms around you at 3 a.m.  &  tell you i love you.  ’
‘  i want you to be my yesterday,  my today,  &  my tomorrow.  ’
‘  i want you.  ’
‘  i will always love you.  even when you don’t think it’s a possibility,  i am going to love you.  ’
‘  i would sleep so much better with you right next to me.  ’
‘  if only you could see your angelic self from my perspective.  ’
‘  if you frequently play with my hair,  i might just fall in love with you.  ’
‘  it’s amazing feeling the warmth of your love.  ’
‘  it’s okay to have a bad day every once in a while.  ’
‘  it’s so much easier to fall asleep when you’re in bed next to me,  running your gentle fingers down my back while we softly smile at each other through the darkness.  ’
‘  i’d wait a lifetime to be in your arms.  ’
‘  i’m all yours.  always.  ’
‘  i’m always going to support you.  without even a second thought,  i’ll be there when you need me.  i want what’s best for you.  ’
‘  just knowing you’re there comforts me.  ’
‘  just thinking about how you make me blush.  ’
‘  keep in mind all the things that you have to look forward to,  babe.  ’
‘  kiss me under the starry sky.  ’
‘  let me know if you’re in love with me too.  ’
‘  let today be the day that everything changes.  you are capable of so much.  ’
‘  let’s go on a cute,  cliché date.  ’
‘  let’s sleep together under the stars.  ’
‘  make yourself  &  your own happiness you priority.  ’
‘  make yourself happy before you worry about me.  ’
‘  my kindness isn’t weakness.  ’
‘  my new years resolution is for all our arguments to be settled because i know you’ll still have my love  ’
‘  oh,  what a privilege it is to matter to you.  ’
‘  our love could make flowers bloom int he dead of winter.  ’
‘  pet names are my weakness.  ’
‘  start setting boundaries.  enough is enough.  ’
‘  thank you for caring like nobody else ever has.  ’
‘  thank you for caring when nobody else has.  ’
‘  the world is going to do something amazing for you.  ’
‘  there are times to power through it  &  there are times to say no.  ’
‘  when i look at the stars i can’t help but think of you.  ’
‘  when you look at me,  the butterflies flutter.  ’
‘  you are my happiness  &  you don’t even know it.  ’
‘  you are my starlight.  ’
‘  you are the one i’d do anything for.  ’
‘  you are what puts my mind to rest when i can’t sleep.  ’
‘  you don’t need anyone to rescue you.  you can do it all on your own,  babe.  i know you can.  ’
‘  you feel like home.  ’
‘  you have a smile that lights up my world.  ’
‘  you have no idea how proud of you i am.  you’ve done so much for everyone.  thank you.  ’
‘  you stole my heart,  but i’ll let you keep it.  ’
‘  you’re made of stars  &  you’re my favorite constellation.  ’
‘  you’re my favorite notification.  ’
‘  you’re my home  &  i’m homesick.  ’
‘  you’re not just your mistakes  &  you deserve to be happy.  ’
‘  you’re so much more than good enough.  don’t ever doubt that.  ’
‘  you’re soft  &  sweet  &  too good for me.  ’
‘  you’re something special babe.  you can make a difference.  ’
‘  you’re the happy part of my days.  ’
‘  you’re the one i’m looking for.  ’
‘  you’re the one thing i think about when i wake up every morning.  ’
‘  you’re the reason why i want to get up every morning.  ’
‘  you’re waking,  talking,  living,  loving poetry.  ’

anonymous asked:

Hey Emma 💛 Do you have any advice for procrastination? I also have a hard time concentrating, what do you do (or think I could do) that would help with that?

Hi! I’ve had a few questions like this recently so I’m just going to answer this one and hopefully anyone who asked a similar question will see it! But on with the answer. I think there is a few different reasons why we procrastinate so I’m going to note those down and give a few tips for each. You can obviously apply any ideas that you like regardless of what section I’ve put them under! 

1. You’ve got poor work/productivity habits. Generally you leave things until the last minute since you “work better under pressure”. (This is so me, omg.) You probably think you’ll do something after you’ve finished something else, and then never do. You get distracted whenever you’re trying to study and will sit waiting to feel motivated but it never comes. For this I’d suggest:

  • create a productive work environment - choose a space where you will actually work without distractions, organise your study space, have everything you need in easy reach. Surround yourself with things you find motivating such as quotes! 
  • write it out - write down a few manageable tasks that you need to do. Writing the actions they require will help you see what you should be doing to complete something, instead of just the overall task. One by one you’ll see yourself getting things done!
  • focus on 20-30 minute periods - generally we lose focus after a while so taking regular breaks can help give you chance to relax and refocus. Apps like Forest allow you to set a timer and will give you off your phone at the same time. Obviously if you’re being productive, don’t suddenly cut that off because it is “time for a break”.
  • use apps/browser extensions to cut out distractions - ones like RescueTime or StayFocusd will block you from checking certain sites.
  • find an accountability partner - pick someone who you can rely on to check on your regularly and see how your tasks are coming along. You can send them your to-do list and then every few hours you can update them with your progress. You won’t want to let them down.
  • use the two-minute rule - if something takes less than two minutes, do it. Don’t make an excuse, just do it. Tasks that are longer you can either delegate or defer. Here is a simple visualisation of what I mean.
  • record your progress - doing a simple “don’t break the chain” in your planner is a great way to see how productive you’re being and therefore get you more motivated to keep it up!

2. You’re feeling stressed and overwhelmed. Everything seems to be mounting up and nothing seems doable. You don’t know where or how to start. For this I’d suggest:

  • find some help - if you’re feeling like this, it is likely you need some help in some form or another. See if a family member, friend, classmate or teacher (or Google) can help or give you a starting point.
  • tell yourself that getting started is the first step - you don’t need to finish a task in a matter of minutes. Start doing something small. Maybe organise what you need, highlight the important bits of your assessment, or draft an essay plan. The secret to getting ahead is getting started!
  • divide and conquer - figure out what is the overall task that you need to do and split it into manageable parts. For instance with an essay the aim is to write it! Divide it into planning out what you want to write, any references you need, summarising a final draft and then writing each paragraph. By dividing bigger tasks into actionable parts you can reduce the obstacles and get through each part in a more timely manner.
  • reward yourself - create a reward system to celebrate completing a selection of tasks. By rewarding your progress you’ll build an incentive to work and reinforce productivity (great for your self-discipline!). 
  • learn to forgive yourself - if you have an off day, that is okay! You can’t expect to see a huge change in a short amount of time. Remember to come back to it later and try again.
  • don’t over schedule - if you’re feeling pressure from the amount of work and then the added pressure of trying to stick to a time limit, you’re just going to go crazy. Set yourself flexible times to get something done instead of being heavily structured. Give yourself time for a break and the ability to change tasks.
  • stick with one task - it can be so tempting to multitask but try not to. Try to keep focus on the what you’re doing until it is done. If you struggle with that, you could write down anything useful that you randomly think about for another task, use a break-time to think about that other task or alternate between subjects/tasks every few hours.

3. You’re a perfectionist. You either don’t want to start something out of fear you won’t get it right or you can stuck on stuck on the small details. There is a pressure to achieve “perfection”. For this I’d suggest:

  • focus on getting started, instead of finishing - it is easy to get overwhelmed thinking about what something is supposed to be like finished if you’re a perfectionist. Take things one step at a time.
  • remember that your perfectionist tendencies aren’t actually improving your work or productivity but hindering you - you’re continually setting yourself unrealistic objects and (like me) probably feel let down by yourself if you don’t reach them. Be realistic and focus on getting it done!
  • accept mistakes - you’ve written something wrong, don’t panic! Cross it out with a single line and move on. Things happen and you have to accept it. You can’t rip up the page every time you do something wrong, even if it is so tempting.
  • put things in perspective - is what you’re beating yourself up about right now going to mean anything in a week, a month, a year? Be honest if it isn’t, is it really worth putting unnecessary pressure on yourself.
  • praise yourself through the process - try not to criticise yourself but recognise your progress. 

4. You’re wanting to do something else. You find whatever you’re doing boring. You want it to be over with but don’t want to get started. The ultimate catch 22, right? For this I’d suggest:

  • remember that putting it off isn’t going to make it go away - if you leave it too long you’ll end up getting more stressed about it. Best to get it over with. 
  • plan from the get-go - once you know something is coming up (e.g. a test, an assessment, etc) make notes on it! That could be questions, annotations, potential topics, citations, etc. By making the effort to spend time reading through, you’ll save your future self some stress. Especially if it’s a topic you have forgotten. That way your notes act as a reminder so you can get started.
  • set a finish time with a reward - tell yourself that if you finish something by ..am/pm and then you can do something else. Use your self-discipline to not go back on this. Set a realistic time and try to get it complete before. If you can think that you’re doing something fun once it is completed, you’ll be more motivated to get it done.
  • make a structure - for note-taking, it can be overwhelming looking at a textbook and thinking what you’re going to write out. Make a note-taking layout/colour code that works for you and that subject. Mine is here - it just give me an idea of how I’d lay everything instead of going in with no action plan. 
  • try to make it fun - this could be using YouTube to learn or starting a study group. Use different methods for memorising information such as flashcards, mindmaps or study guides (like question/answer).
  • make the effort to refocus - if you’re finding something boring and you’re unfocused, walk away for 5 minutes, get a drink and come back. If you’re really struggling, change topics for a while. Find a point where you can finish and start doing something else that is productive. 
  • listen to some music - generally music without lyrics are best for focusing. Spotify has a great playlist for studying called ‘focus’. However I find my regular music good for getting me a little more motivated and awake. I also like writing essays to music because I weirdly sort of type in the same rhythm. Funny study hack I’ve found that works for me haha! 

I hope that is useful! I must have copied and pasted my whole answer like 5 times just incase my tab reloaded and I lost everything, luckily not! You should also check out this post for smaller motivation tips and tricks! xx

100 Scurvy Pirate Prompts

Me amigos, ‘tis be ye cap'n @promptguy. Thank ye fer all th’ submissions. I translated some to be more scurvy pirate. 'tis might be th’ best list so far.

  1. “Which lovely booty ye be eyein’? th’ curvy wench’s or th’ shit-barnacles ye can’t spy wit’ ye eye in yon chest?”
  2. “oh me god! th’ boat be leakin’!” “No, that’s just bilge rum”
  3. Scribe 'bout a scurvy pirate that be scared 'o th’ ocean
  4. Ye discover that Prompt Guy be actually th’ Flyin’ Dutchman
  5. A pirate ship encounters sirens who use their song to lure them. th’ band 'o pirates give a go’ to escape but 'tis later revealed that th’ sirens don’t want sink them but join them
  6. 'tis ye first day on ship, 'n ye’re in learnin’. All th’ other members on board be experienced 'n professionals at their ship except 1. That one be ye “trainin’ laddie”… a child Jack Sparrow.
  7. “walk thee fuckin plank ye scallywag”
  8. Ye be th’ cap'n 'o a crew 'o Githyanki band 'o pirates, 'n ye be huntin’ ye quarry in th’ astral plane. th’ problem be, ye quarry consists 'o a ship full 'o illithids, or mind-flayers, who had previously enslaved ye kind wit’ their mental powers
  9. Ye got captured by band 'o pirates. be tellin’ a story on how ye end up becomin’ cap'n fer that scurvy pirate ship. Bonus points if ye scribe a way ye do it that dont murder anyone nor end up wit’ physical harm.
  10. Bin got a pair words fer ye scurvy dogs: “Shark Bait.”
  11. Poseidon, th’ God 'o th’ Sea, has chosen ye as his vessel. He whispers in ye mind, “by sea be th’ only way to travel.” ye embark on a journey, killin’ anybody who dares take an airplane or car.
  12. Ye’ve always thought that havin’ a peg leg’d be cool, but arh, the maintenaince yeh have to do to keep up yer cool appearance!
  13. “ye’re seriously makin’ me swim th’ plank again?!”
  14. A pirate cap'n goes on a mission to reclaim th’ pirate ship that was stolen from him 'n free his crew members from imprisonment
  15. Ye have traveled long 'n far in search 'o an infamous treasure that ye 'n ye crew have be searchin’ fer fer 16 years. Upon discoverin’ it, ye open th’ chest only to find a map leadin’ to another treasure. th’ value 'o friendship.
  16. They shout that treasures best be hidden on land. Yer cap'n be sayin’ they’re all lyin’. Yer cap'n be sayin’ th’ best place to be hidin’ treasure be in th’ heart 'o a storm.
  17. Ye ship be sunk, ye maties abandoned ye, but ye still have th’ gold… 'n spiced rum.
  18. Ye be kidnapped from ye home in th’ dead 'o nightfall 'n brought onto a ship wit’ a crew 'o 100 band 'o pirates. As ye look on in fear, they all bow below before ye. One 'o them introduces themselves as ye First Matey. ye be now their cap'n.
  19. Ye muster onboard a scurvy pirate ship, hopin’ to get some doubloons 'n th’ comradery ye sorely missed in th’ navy. But turns out th’ ship ye ended up on has a secret ye would never have guessed…
  20. A forbidden lust story between a sea cap'n 'n a siren he meets at sea.
  21. Ye’ve always wanted to be a scurvy pirate. ye even got ye chance when a fleet 'o them attacked ye town. th’ problem? ye’re a 'land-lubber’ 'n 'tis isn’t a nice world. ye’ll have to prove ye can handle bein’ a scurvy pirate just to make it out 'o th’ brig
  22. Ye’ve just taken control 'o a merchant ship only to find that th’ entire crew be more scared 'o th’ 4 year barnacle-covered girly offsprin’ 'o th’ wealthy tradesman ye’ve locked away. When she smiles, ye spy wit’ ye eye storms in her eyes - 'n then she laughs…
  23. Ye find a cursed treasure. When a piece 'o gold be spent it disappears. How do ye spend ye loot.
  24. “No women allowed on board!” says th’ cap'n. He finds out, one by one, that every member 'o his crew be a woman wit’ a fake beard.
  25. That scurvy scalawag Blackhearted Benton just stole yer ship wit’ all yer lovely booty! GET IT BACK!
  26. “Stop playin’ yer dratted cello, matey, 'n help me sword fight off Blackbeard!”
  27. Ye be th’ first astronaut to be sent to explore th’ galaxy. Suddenly, ye re stopped by space band 'o pirates, 'n be forced to choose between roamin’ aimlessly forever or joinin’ their crew.
  28. Ye got into th’ piratin’ business fer one reason - so ye can afford a ship in Malibu.
  29. “Remind me; if women be bad luck, why do we have a female cap'n?”
  30. Mermaid band 'o pirates. They find new islands 'n take down their enemies wit’ th’ help 'o sea creatures. Their ship be called “Poseidon”
  31. Band 'o pirates that set out to be villains accidentally return as jolly guys by screwin’ plans up
  32. Ye be a feared scurvy pirate who can control all th’ monsters roamin’ th’ seven seas, however ye worst enemy can control th’ oceans themselves.
  33. tell an entire tale in pirate talk, me hearty…
  34. Ye character just got accepted into MIT 'n be sailin’ towards th’ “scurvy pirate Certificate” (pistols, riflery, rowin’, fencin’.) wee do they be knowin’ that these courses be taught by actual band 'o pirates.
  35. An underground illegal racin’ rig has be started that involves scurvy pirate ships battlin’ though a rum track in a Need fer Speed style wit’ steampower-ups included
  36. Ye awaken on a scurvy pirate ship, last thin’ ye remember before 'tis was shoutin’ to a guy in th’ tavern at port. th’ cap'n had bought ye 'n ye be now sailin’ on th’ ship, what happens while ye be at sea?
  37. “HAND ME THAT MAP OR SO HELP ME I’LL CUT IT OFF YA HANDS!”
  38. You turn on the Pirate Speak in Minecraft under language options as a joke, but then ye start findin’ that yer land lubber mates in reality arrrre beginnin’ ta talk like ol’ sea dogs, and even tha signs ‘round yer town turn inta Pirate Speak. Soon a squaky bird takes to perchin’ on yer shoulder. Tha townsfolk begin ta ask fer yer okay on things o’ trivial matter. Yer first mate, who lost 'is leg years ago ta scurvy, suddenly had a peg 'stead of a prosthetic. Congrats, matey– yer tha cap'n of tha town
  39. “Arrrr! the hour to loot EA 'o their precious Sims lovely booty!!”
  40. 'tis not uncommon fer a scurvy pirate to loose a hand or a foot on his travels. ye 'n ye crew dig up a chest full 'o hands 'n feet.
  41. Ye swore on a loved one’s grave that ye would someday sail to th’ legendary Grand Arcada, an ocean which none have ever found. this day, ye awoke to find ye ship stolen from ye - 'n th’ strange people seem to be changin’ ye course…
  42. A pirate loses his scurvy pirate accent 'n has to go find a different ship because they don’t fit in anymore.
  43. Ye find an ancient treasure map, 'n indeed, under th’ “X” thar’s buried treasure. But what’s under th’ “Y” 'n “Z”?
  44. Ye cap'n has caught a deadly disease, 'n be on th’ verge 'o Davy Jones’ treasure chest. ye 'n ye crew decide to pull one last raid wit’ them. th’ big one.
  45. Th’ band 'o pirates 'n th’ vampires have come to together to stop th’ ultimate evil. How do ye defend yourself?
  46. Cap'n Gus has a secret, his magic beard grows more wild 'n tangled wit’ every wind it ensnares. Cuttin’ a hair causes a mild breeze, a lock 'o his beard unleashes a strong wind. Now, captured 'n condemned to execution, he asks if he could shave
  47. Ye be th’ cap'n 'o th’ most infamous scurvy pirate ship on th’ seven seven seas, ye 'n ye crew have be through pretty much everythin’ together. Currently ye be on th’ hunt fer mer-people, they fetch high prices on th’ black market fer their beauty. What ye crew dont be knowin’ however be that ye be a mer-person 'n ye 'n ye kind only have tails when ye peglegs get wet.ye’re in th’ middle 'o a bath in ye quarters when ye first matey bustles in to speak to ye 'bout th’ ship’s course.
  48. Ye be a notorious scurvy pirate. ye’ve always be able to outrun th’ navy, but 'tis the hour they’re gainin’ on ye. ye agree to make a deal wit’ one 'o th’ lesser captains. What do they shout to ye?
  49. Arr, ye main character be kidnapped by a scurvy pirate at sea! It turns out th’ sea isn’t what it seems to be when he throws ye overboard to die….
  50. Ye cap'n has be noticeably feelin’ down, how does one scurvy pirate cheer up their cap'n back to their jolly self?
  51. What do ye do wit’ a drunken sailer?
  52. Ye’re a pirate who’s totally new to th’ business 'o stealin’ treasure from authoritative figures 'n don’t really be knowin’ what ye’re doin’. Suddenly, a dragon shows up 'n offers to tutor ye in piracy. What next?
  53. “What be land? I have forgotten.”
  54. Ye’re an undercover employee 'o th’ british government onboard a pirate ship on 'tis way to an uncharted island. ye mission be to find out what th’ band 'o pirates be goin’ thar fer.
  55. A pirate wit’ a rubber duck hand instead 'o a rusted hook
  56. Lesbian pirate flirtin’ wit’ sirens
  57. Ye were sent by th’ British government to spy on a notorious cap'n. ye join his crew 'n climb up th’ ranks 'til ye become his first matey. A few days before ye be to betray him, he tells ye a secret that changes everythin’. What be it?
  58. Th’ cap'n has gone missin’ overnight. ye, a mere chef, be th’ only one who can manage to control th’ crew. ye need to find whar ye cap'n has gone to.
  59. She was they best cap'n to sail th’ sea’s. She was Black Beard.
  60. Band 'o pirates be pillagin’ ye village, lookin’ fer somethin’. What they’re lookin’ fer be a wee unorthodox
  61. Th’ year be th’ far future, 'n space travel has be achieved. th’ human race has be denied entry into th’ galactic federations set up hundreds 'o years before their time. So, instead, we become space band 'o pirates. All 'o us.
  62. All ye pirates be sufferin from th’ evil scurvy, no matter how much citrus or undercooked meat they brin’ on th’ poop deck. they shout yer crews favoured wi th’ devil, but wee do they be knowin’ ye’ve just found th’ third cure to th’ scurvy
  63. “fer th’ last the time, don’t be puttin’ me tattered eyepatch in th’ dryer!”
  64. Ye look almost exactly like th’ female version 'o ye twin brother. Unfortunately, ye twin brother just so happens to be th’ notorious cap'n 'o a pirate crew. One day, he be killed, 'n th’ crew asks ye to pretend to be him so as to continue
  65. Th’ mermaid they pulled from th’ ocean turns out to be a jolly fighter. Maybe too jolly. Sh just killed th’ cap'n.
  66. Ye got scurvy. How ya gonna hide it from th’ cap'n?
  67. Ye pirate ship be stuck in 5 O'clock traffic. Somehow.
  68. Ye’re a stowaway on th’ dreaded cap'n LongBeard’s ship, tryin’ to find out whar he hides his treasure. Only problem be, ye’ve gotten caught sneakin’ around below deck.
  69. Ye’re th’ only jolly scurvy pirate in ye crew. ye’ve be tryin’ to keep it a secret, but then ye ship happens to sail past a group 'o sirens…
  70. Ye command one 'o th’ fiercest scurvy pirate ships in th’ seven seas. Just th’ mention 'o ye crew sends fear into th’ hearts 'o men 'n women. th’ only thin’ be, ye’ve never stepped foot on a boat.
  71. Ye’ve be travelin’ th’ seven seas fer a while now. Nothin’ can stand in ye way; ye 'n ye crew be unstoppable. 'til one thin’ crossed ye paths. What be that one thin’ 'n how do ye overcome it?
  72. Ye be th’ toughest scurvy pirate around. ye won many fights, pillaged many towns, 'n plundered dozens 'o ships. nothin’ could stand in ye way to riches, not even- oh god be that a baby on ye ship? who brought a baby?
  73. Ye be sailin’ th’ seven seven seas when yer lovely booty grows peglegs 'n starts swimmin’ off. How do ya catch a swimmin’ treasure hoard?
  74. Ye be a sea cap'n. Suddenly, ye ship lifts into th’ air. ye’re bein’ raided by sky band 'o pirates!
  75. Due to men believin’ eatin’ fruit was too feminine, th’ seven seas be now ruled by female band 'o pirates who beat their weakened males counterparts. Now, ye’re at a parrrty drinkin’ ornge spiced juice wit’ th’ victors.
  76. All ye pirates knows only women be sailors. Can ye think 'o anythin’ more unlucky than to have a scurvy dog onboard a ship? Still, rumour has it that th’ fiercest scurvy pirate ship 'o them all has a only-male crew.
  77. Ye meet Sodomy McScurvyLegs 'n buy a fitness regime. It opens up a whole new seven seas fer ye, an endless sea 'o knowledge… 'bout lovely booty.
  78. Turns out 'tis eyepatch be cursed to ne'er come off! Too bad ye put it on t’ wrong eye!
  79. Yrr secret island has been made into a parking lot and is overrun by scurvy lawyers while you were pirating. How do you fight lawyers? Your treasure is under that asphalt.
  80. Th’ cap'n 'o a magical sailin’ pirate ship takes several orphans under her proverbial win’s as new crew members
  81. “I lost m'hand to a shark, but I lost me eye to…”
  82. A rollickin’ scurvy pirate adventure from th’ point 'o view 'o th’ ship’s sea monster: th’ cat
  83. A classic pirate adventure wit’ a cursed object. Part 'o th’ curse be that th’ scurvy pirate cap'n 'n crew can never leave th’ ship 'n must come up wit’ creative ways to plunder, pillage, 'n eventually break th’ curse.
  84. Cuddle band 'o pirates- th’ fluffiest, snuggliest scurvy pirate crew ye can imagine, inexplicably survivin’ through skill 'n pluck in a grimdark hyper-edgy universe, rebellin’ against th’ grim 'n gritty status quo wit’ unflinchin’ optimism 'n hugs.
  85. “How th’ muck did ye get onto me ship 'n why be ye naked”
  86. “So ye meanin’ to be tellin’ me th’ map, which ye bought off a street vendor at Ivery Island, be an authentic map that leads to a literal buried treasure. scurvy dog, speak 'bout cliche.”
  87. Ye be highly disappointed when ye discover that th’ famous deadly 'Kraken’ be actually just a nutcracker.
  88. Two pirates travel th’ seven seas lookin’ fer lovely booty, but it turns out all they really want be each others lovely booty
  89. Ye finally come home from a year at sea 'n have to explain to ye main wench how ye got syphillis
  90. A scurvy pirate find th’ greatest treasure to be had: an island covered in lovely booty.
  91. Ye’re a pirate explorin’ uncharted waters when suddenly a giant hand made out 'o rum rises out 'o th’ ocean holdin’ a small baby wrapped in seaweed. th’ hand places th’ younglin’ on th’ deck 'o ye ship 'n disappears back into th’ depths. ye now have a child 'n a lot 'o questions.
  92. captains, greedy 'n tough 'n mean. But th’ strange thin’ 'bout him be that he wears a metal mask, 'n no one in th’ crew has ever seen him without it. One nightfall, ye resolve to spy wit’ ye eye th’ cap'n’s real face, so ye sneak into his cabin 'n sneak a peek 'o him sans mask. 'n what ye spy wit’ ye eye makes it clear to ye why ye cap'n would hide his face.
  93. Perhaps givin’ band 'o pirates Google Maps wasn’t th’..best idea
  94. Ye somehow became a pirate cap'n. One problem - ye be knowin’ nothin’ 'bout navigation…or ships…or fightin’ in general. But ye look well in a pirate coat 'n a hat, so thar be that.
  95. Ye’ve be captured by pirates, 'n thrown in th’ brig. th’ cap'n’s trusty parrot flies in, 'n says he can help ye escape.
  96. “Matey, yer lovely booty be th’ only one I be diggin’ fer t'night.”
  97. Ye’ve found pirate treasure by sheer dumb luck, but now th’ ghost 'o th’ lady pirate it belonged to be hauntin’ ye. 'n if that wasn’t that be all you can take, she’s got a crush on ye.
  98. Yer on a boat when suddenely yer First Mate throws 'imself over with no apparent reason. You dive in after him and find a grotto. What’s beyond it?
  99. Ye be that one guy on th’ ship that can swim. Somethin’ has jammed th’ rudder, stoppin’ th’ ship from makin’ it to port.
  100. Pretend ye’re a pirate 'n ye’ve just buried ye treasure. Draw a map 'n scribe below detailed instructions on how to find it again.

What prompt do ye like th’ most? Reblog if ye be a true scurvy pirate.

anonymous asked:

Okay but wait if it was Lily's willingness to sacrifice herself to save Harry, why the hell did James's willingness to sacrifice himself to save both Lilly AND Harry not qualify???

ok but imagine it did save both of them and lily had to raise harry alone

  • she emerges from the rubble of her home, limping, her crying son in her arms
  • but otherwise they’re both ok
  • when sirius and remus find her sitting numbly in the front yard she can’t bring herself to tell them about the lifeless body she had to walk around in order to get her son out of the smoldering house
  • they do it for her
  • they pull james’ body from the wreckage, and summon a blanket to lay over him
  • with him laid out like that, lily wonders if harry thinks his dada is sleeping
  • distantly she can hear sirius and remus arguing
  • “i’ll kill him”
  • it takes a glare from lily to shut them up
  • “do you think” her voice is raspy- probably from how much she screamed when she heard james hit the floor
  • she holds harry tighter and reminds herself that, no matter how much it already felt like she’s dead without james, she isn’t and she has someone to live for
  • “do you really think,” she starts again, “that he would want you to do that, possibly get yourselves arrested, and leave harry and i alone?”
  • the boys nod
  • and slowly they sit down on either side of her
  • dumbledore and mcgonagall show up shortly after and usher them all to a new safe house
  • they explain james’ sacrifice 
  • how his love saved them both
  • they didn’t need to though- lily knew that was what saved them
  • they bury him in godric’s hollow, just a few spots away from his parents
  • and they try to continue living 
  • peter is found and sent to azkaban but it still doesn’t feel right
  • nothing feels right to lily
  • except harry
  • so she clings desperately to her son
  • she sends him to muggle school and gets a job at flourish and blotts
  • “i need to do something, remus, i’m so bored while harry is at school”
  • she reads harry stories before bed
  • they have play dates with the weasleys
  • sirius and remus come over every day and eat dinner with them
  • and teach harry how to ride a broom
  • marlene baby sits when lily has to work late
  • they go for walks in the park
  • they get a cat, much to sirius’ dismay
  • and when harry’s letter comes lily wonders if she shouldn’t send him
  • but for all that it took from her- the wizarding world gave her so much too
  • best friends, the wonders of magic
  • james
  • and harry
  • so she takes a deep breath and sends him to hogwarts because she knows it’s where he belongs
  • she meets hermione and the two bond instantly
  • harry writes her every week
  • she goes to every quidditch game 
  • and almost punches dumbledore for allowing her son, this little boy, to remain in the triwizard tournament
  • and finally, when she’s at bill and fleur’s wedding, lily sees- despite the polyjuice potion disguising him- a determined expression on harry’s face is so familiar
  • so much like james
  • so lily lets him go again
  • the next time she sees him is at hogwarts
  • and then again in hagrid’s arms
  • and her heart is on fire because she did not lose her husband, raise harry alone and go through hell just to lose him too
  • so she turns to the man who started all of this
  • but just as she’s raised her wand to finish him, who steps forward but neville longbottom
  • and soon after that it’s over
  • lily holds her son in her arms, strokes his hair like she did when he was little and cries because she truly thought she had lost everything
  • “there’s someone you all need to see” harry whispers
  • they find sirius and remus, he leads them into the forest, and turns a stone three times
  • and there’s james
  • lily is vaguely aware of choked sobs coming from behind her- remus or sirius or both, she can’t quite tell
  • james smiles at her and reaches out his hand to gently brush her face
  • she can barely feel it but at the same time it sets her world on fire just like the very first time he touched her
  • “hiya, prongs,” remus murmurs
  • “boys- you’ve aged well”
  • “shame you haven’t” sirius says
  • james smiles sadly at them before turning back to lily
  • “we never got our proper goodbye”
  • “don’t be a fool james potter- how can i say goodbye to you when you’ll never leave me?”
  • he gives her that look
  • the one that always meant “i love you”
  • “i love you too,” she whispers
  • and then he’s gone again
  • but lily leaves the forest with a small smile on her face because after all these years she knows that he never really was
skam fic rec masterpost

so i love reading fic, its like my favorite pass time and that’s all i’ve been doing for the past three months so here’s a huge fic rec list of some fics that i have read and am currently reading and im in love with

big thanks to fic writers! yall are amazing and so important to the fandom <3

a lot of these authors are also on tumblr im sure but i don’t have all the urls so i’m gonna put the ao3 usernames for now. please if you’re on tumblr and would like your url to be in this instead of your ao3 username, just holla at me and ill change it! <3

(ps i’m so sorry i had to shorten up the summaries on some of them so it wouldnt be too long!!)

(pps i update this very frequently as i read so feel free to come back from time to time to look for any new fics!)

make sure you read the trigger warnings for some fics as they can get angsty

okay here we go :) happy reading <3

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Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

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Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this! 

“Good morning, Keith.”

Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”

“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.

Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.

“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”

Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.

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Stiles can’t shower at his house anymore, not since the sacrifices. Just seeing the tub gives me flash backs to going under the water at Deaton’s, the thought of actually getting into one is enough to send him over the edge into a full on panic attack. 

He showers in the locker room now, in the open space where he knows he can’t go under. He knows that it’s not a permanent solution, but for now it works. 

After everything with the Nogitsune Stiles stands in the locker room showers for at least an hour. He can’t get the feel of blood off of his hands. He scrubs himself until he’s red, until his skin is tender to the touch, and then he scrubs more. 

There were too many places with bad memories attached now, but Stiles gets through them, he has to. He still can’t look at a bathtub without feeling sick to his stomach. That’s where it started for him, that’s how the Nogitsune got in. 

So he still showers at school, he avoids talking about his feelings and his struggles because it’s his fault that Allison is dead, that Isaac is gone, that Scott’s a werewolf. It’s all his fault and he knows that, so he stays strong and steady on the outside, if not a bit defiant. 

It all works out fine until the school is locked for summer and Derek is missing and Lydia is grieving the death of her best friend so he can’t talk to her, and Scott is off trying to better himself so he can’t bother him. 

After a week of sink showers Stiles finally gets an idea and breaks into the loft. Well breaks into is a very loose term, he has a key and he doesn’t think Derek would mind him using his shower. 

That plan works well until Derek is back. By then the school is open again, but he knows that Derek can tell he’s been there. There’s no way he doesn’t smell Stiles in the bathroom, on the couch, in the bed. 

But Derek doesn’t call him out on it, instead he squeezes Stiles neck and reminds him that his door is always open if he needs to get away. Stiles knows that if anyone would understand how he’s feeling, it would be Derek. He knows that, but he can’t bring himself to tell him anything. 

He does go to the loft sometimes, mostly to use Derek’s shower and always when he knows Derek is out. That plan works as well as he other plans, meaning it’s great until it isn’t.

It’s a Sunday and Stiles is stepping out of a hot shower at the loft, he had a bad night, dreams of dead brown eyes and sticking swords into friends had kept him up. He had been alone when he got to the loft, but when he steps out of the bathroom Derek is sitting on the couch reading a book. 

“None of this is your fault,” Derek tells him, not looking up from the book, “You didn’t ask to be possessed, you didn’t want to be sacrificed, none of this is on you.”

“Or is it all on me,” Stiles says, toweling his hair dry and looking at Derek, “If I hadn’t dragged Scott into the woods that first night none of this would have happened.”

“By that line of logic this is actually all my fault,” Derek says with a sigh, making Stiles think that Derek really believes that it’s his fault, “The fire never would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”

“We both know the fire would have happened without you,” Stiles says because it’s true.

“And if Scott hadn’t gotten bitten someone else would have,” Derek counters, “It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe,” Stiles says, sitting down next to Derek. It feels like the right time to tell someone why he can’t shower at home so he adds, “I can’t go near a bathtub after being sacrificed.”

“The smell of smoke still makes me sick,” Derek admits and Stiles bumps his shoulder against him. “We’ve all got our damage. You’re not letting yours keep you from living, that’s important.”

“You too,” Stiles tells him, “Maybe we can try to move forward from all of this shit together. It’s easier with someone else helping.”

“Yeah, it is,” Derek says quietly, looking at Stiles with a soft look that he’s only seen a few times before. 

And maybe Stiles still can’t take a bath, but with Derek (and a therapists) help he starts taking showers in a bathtub. And maybe Derek can’t watch open flames, but he can smell smoke without throwing up because Stiles helps him open up (and takes him to therapy once a week).

They move forward together. And eventually they’re both well enough emotionally to admit that they love each other. Every day is a journey for them, but they’re on that journey together, that’s what matters. 

a friendly reminder that no matter how many bad books we read there’ll always be soc a.k.a the true masterpiece of our time which is like a safe blanket for murder babies and you can throw it over your head and pretend you’re on your way to a big heist or smth equally dangerous (but exciting) :’) and while you’re dreaming of $$$kruge$$$ you might also wanna remember that soc has:

- a bi poc character who didn’t dance around the term hgtawm style and pull some lame explanation out of his ass ala ‘it’s complicated’ but he actually said ‘not just girls’ so yeah confirmed bi poc who’s a KNOWN flirt and everybody praises him for it instead of mocking/shunning him honestly what did we do to deserve jesper fahey
- a disabled gang leader who’s literally thE BADDEST BARREL BOSS TO EVER WALK THE STREETS OF KETTERDAM caw caw bitches (he also has severe ptsd, panic attacks, suffers from traumatic flashbacks and experiences nausea and all kinds of ptsd symptoms everytime he (even accidentally) touches someone but does that limit or stop him in any way?? HELL NO MOFOS here comes kaz brekker with his crow cane and he’s about to whoop some ass better beware)
- a beautiful, amazing, talented, showstopping, spectacular, never the same woc who is basically?? everyone’s treasure, heart, love, most cherished person ever, role model, etc. etc. and it’s only right tbh inej ghafa owns my entire heart and i’d gladly give it to her over and over again if that would make her smile. she’s been sold into slavery (mentions/hints of prostitution which only adds to her bravery and strength thank you very much) when she was 14 but she managed to leave the past behind her and remain INCREDIBLY kind and humble despite all the shit she’s been through?? there is no character i adore, respect and love more than inej (okay maybe there is and inej calls her sankta alina b y e)
- a CANONICALLY. FAT. FEMALE CHARACTER WHO’S JUST!!! AMAZING. BREATHTAKING. HEART-STOPPING (literally). a true inspiration to us all who was also held captive when she was younger, trained by the mighty (goddess on earth) zoya nazyalensky, held captive again - this time by a gross ass, fanatic ass fjerdan nazi soldier/leader and lemme tell you she didn’t even lose her appetite. BOI she wasn’t even fazed. she couldn’t find a single fuck to give & she was determined to move on but she was plagued by guilt so she came back to save/help the boy who helped HER so she’s not just a pretty face and she’s so?? badass and smart and funny and fierce and she’s so fucking PROUD of every roll and curve on her body i could actually cry?? nina zenik, an actual muse for young girls/readers. nina zenik, life & wife goals
- a smol (very smol but also kind of a sinnamon roll tbqh? he aspires to be one anyway) angelic boy who comes from a TERRIBLY abusive home bc his father is an actual piece of shit and humiliated him all his life bc wylan couldn’t read. well guess what joke’s on van eck senior bc my boy, my CANONICALLY GAY SON, is smarter than him and his entire sorry lot and he’s gonna take over the world one day, you just wait. also just wants to make things go boom boom POW (usually regarding explosives but also applies to jesper a.k.a THE MOST PERFECT, CARING, WONDERFUL BF EVER)
- a big yellow tulip also known as matthias helvar. so matthias is that boy who helped nina escape the clutches of his scary boss and he’s the actual literal embodiment of the grumpy cat. but!!! he undergoes the biggest character development of all imo bc he manages to change for the better (bit by bit, brick by brick) and let me tell you that’s COMMENDABLE. like listen this is a young man who’s been brainwashed into hating everything nina & the rest of kaz’s merry band of misfits stand for. he’s been taught nothing but hate hate and more hate and he manages to turn his back on those prejudices and he opened up so much and we got to see so much more of him in ck and we learned that he’s super kind and sweet and giving, and he’s so pure and wonderful and amazing. he also loves nina zenik A LOT which is smth i can get behind and relate to 100000%
- last but not least kuwei, who’s not ~an official~ member of kaz’s vip club (pity pity pity) but. he’s a gay poc (asian!!! the same as tamar&tolya from tgt so please don’t whitewash him, it’s unacceptable) who’s sassy but kind of laid back at the same time and his favourite pastime is to just chill in the back and pretend he’s not listening/doesn’t know the lingo but guess what?? boy is like an international spy bc he understands more than he lets on. he also lost his father (which kind of turned him into a living prize bc everybody wanted him for his knowledge & chemistry skills, like he could probably cook up a deadly virus in three minutes if he was feeling inspired that day - which never happened but still. it’s good to have options) and yet never complained about anything and he just let that drama unroll like 👀👂 I HATE DRAMA 🎧🔍📝 overall deserved better

Hexed

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Reader and Dean are…you guessed it…hexed.  Is it a sexual curse or something more?

Word Count:  2111

Warnings:  Lots of language, lots of smut (rough-ish smut)

As always, feedback is appreciated.  Tags are at the bottom.

Originally posted by holy-fucking-damn-shit

Hexed 

There is a time and place for everything, this is neither the time nor the place. Not for Dean to be looking at me like that, no sir. Had I always hoped he’d fix those ethereal green eyes on me that way? My mama didn’t raise a liar, so I’m not going to lie to you. Yeah, I want that man to fix those eyes on me just like that. Wanted him to for a long time now. There’s a lot of things I want from Dean Winchester.  That man is a walking wet dream, sex on bow-legs.

Things is, he’s not supposed to be looking at me like that. Sure as hell not right this very minute.  It’s not part of the plan. We’re working a fucking case for god’s sake. I’m not talking about research or footwork, interviewing and investigating. We are legitimately standing in this room right the fuck now and a motherfucking witch was just here with us. There is a blade in my hand and a gun in his. We had a job to do, one goddamn job.

Now that bitch of a witch is gone. Poof, vanished, adios amigos, just fucking gone. She mumbled some shifty spell work and now Dean fucking Winchester is looking like he wants to screw my brains out.

I’m looking right back at him and I got the same look in my eye.  

I don’t know what that piece of shit did to us, but my breasts are heavy, achy. My nipples are straining against the fabric of my bra and if somebody doesn’t touch them right this very instant and relieve that pressure, I’m going to scream. Or come. I don’t know which.  

There’s a burning in between my thighs, I’m squeezing them together hoping to ease some of the pressure but it’s only making it worse. Times infinity. My skin is all heat and fire, I’m consumed by need and lust.

Dean is a mirror, his eyes reflect back at me the same fever I’m feeling. I can see his cock - Jesus fucking Christ - swelling and straining against those blue denim jeans. In three short steps his crossed the room, a strangled sound leaving his lips before his lips press to mine. Our weapons clatter to the ground making one hell of a racket, but I give no fucks.

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Harry Fake Dates Kendall but is in Love With You

A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.

Masterlist linked in bio.


The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.

“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”

They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.

They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.

It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.

She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.

He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.

Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.

She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.

For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.

But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.

He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.

And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.  

His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.

His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.

He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.

“You never told me she was going to be here.“

His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.

When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.

She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.

By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.

So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.

She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”

Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.

“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”

Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.

And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.

But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.

“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”

Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.

“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”

Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.

“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”

Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.

Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.

“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”

Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.

Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.

And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.

“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”

Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.

Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.

“Shut up, Gem.“

She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.

“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”

She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.

“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”

No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.

“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.

“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”

Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.

Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.

When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.

When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.

He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.

“Hey, stranger.”

Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.

He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.

His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.

“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”

She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.

“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”

Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”

But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.

“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.

He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.

Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.

“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.

Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“

“Kendall?”

Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.

Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.

This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.

“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”

Last night.

Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.

“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”

She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?

She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle. 

“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.

His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.

Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”

“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.

“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”

“It’s the way you said it.”

“Are you being serious, Harry?”

He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.

“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”

He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.

When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.

“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.

She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.

“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”

The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.

“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.

Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.

“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”

She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.

“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“

“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.

She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.

“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”

Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.

Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.

“Mum—“

“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.

“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”

Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.

She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.

He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.

“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?” 

He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.

“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”

Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.

“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”

His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”

She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“


“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.

“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“

Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.

“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”

His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.

Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.

His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.

“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”

She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.

“Yes, please.

His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.

Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.

They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.

“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.

Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.

She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.

“’s the matter?” He croaks.

His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.

“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“

Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.

There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.

“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”

His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.

“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.

“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”

His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.

“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.

He kisses her again.

“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“

Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.

“Trust me, I always knew.”

home after rain

blue orchids short story

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: too much fluff.. too much cute
word count: 3.986
author’s note: surprise! \o/ I honestly have no idea how or why this happened. yesterday I just… started writing, and here we are, a few thousand words later. also, bear in mind that this is a sequel to blue orchids, so you need to read that one first if you want to understand this short piece. hope you all enjoy!

This story is set six years into the future within Blue Orchids’ universe.


The sun rays are melting on your skin. It has been a while since the skies opened up like this, leaving the sun bare to the living, its warmth a pleasant gift after days of storm and gloom. The sand under your legs and feet is, fortunately, not scorching — not yet, at least. The early morning is still warming up to the pristine sun, and the salty winds of the beach are still a strange mixture of the growing heatwave and the remnants of past iciness.

You cannot remember the last time you visited the beach, but it does not feel foreign or uncomfortable. It feels like you belong, mind at peace and body molding to the sand as your extended legs allow your toes to brush against the gentle waves that break and ebb away, water still too chilly to enjoy at its fullest.

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A Lesson in Love (Confessions)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,178

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this is not the end of story.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - The messages you sent me after editing this part let me know that I had successfully tugged on all of the right heartstrings, so thank you for that.

Originally posted by ditchthevillian

Whenever an uncomplicated task arises, people say it’s as easy to accomplish as breathing. The adage always made perfect sense to you whenever you heard it. Breathing is second nature. It can be done without having to think twice and, sometimes, it feels like certain tasks are the same way.

Today, that’s not the case. Standing here across from Bucky for the first time in weeks, you find that breathing is anything but easy. The air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as you stumbled upon the note he wrote on the canvas and you haven’t yet recovered. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, just breathe. But it’s hard. How are you supposed to remember to inhale and exhale in a moment like this?

“Are you going to say something?” You press, once the silence of the room becomes too unbearable. Your fingers curl tightly around the canvas as you wait for Bucky to speak. “Anything?”

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cinderdrilla  asked:

hit me up w/ some voltron goodness 8)

Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.

Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.

‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.

‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’

‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance.
Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’

It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.

‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’

That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.

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Better With Age

Summary: Sam freaks out a little about growing older. You comfort him.

Word Count: 1900ish

Warning: standard smut, a little dirty talk

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this one! XOXO


It’s the little things.

Sam starts an intense multivitamin regimen in the mornings. He cuts back on the beer. He tries his best to start sleeping five or six hours instead of the usual four.

You get it. You aren’t twenty-one years old anymore either. Sore muscles take a couple of days longer to heal, too many beers at dinner makes you feel awful the next day, and you just simply don’t have the stamina you used to.

Sam is just trying to ward off middle-age as long as he can, despite the fact that he’s not even there yet.

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