and she gets to see this every morning

Has anyone noticed that Lena is like shoving her phone away into her pocket? Or am I seeing things? Did Lena look at her phone every 15 seconds because she texted Kara, asking where she was and didn’t get a response? Did she hesitate to call Kara because she had planned her response “She said with surprise in her voice for some reason.” since this morning in case Kara had forgotten lunch? Did she just end a call with Alana The Traitor™ telling her to cancel her lunch meeting at 1pm because she wanted to spend her whole lunch with Kara and not leave her? Did she take a photo of Karas’ desk and put it as her wallpaper so she can look at it and imagine…things? Did she send out a masstext to everyone at CatCo saying “Kara Danvers is the best. Be kind to her or I swear tO GOD I will find you. - anonymous” while she was bored waiting for her? Is she making sure her driver is ready downstairs, that the kambucha place is open, that someone is holding the elevator for them, that her Supergirl Quiz App is running, like… did soMEONE TALK TO HER OR GIVE HER A SMIRK I MEAN SHE’S LENA LUTHOR AND SHE’S IN CATCO JUST CHILLIN™ AMONGST THE MORTALS LIKE DID SOMEONE FAINT?? DID THEY SEND HELP???

Adrinette Month Day 5: Coffee Shop Au 

Back to working loosely haha I enjoy it far too much 8]

He didn’t know when she started sitting there, every morning at eight, with a cup of coffee in her hands. He only knew when he started remembering her. 

Sometimes she was with someone–a friend, he hoped–but most times, she was alone, sitting contentedly with her beverage, enjoying her own company. 

He never could quite muster up the courage to go up to her–what was he going to say? “Hey, I’ve been watching you drink coffee every morning as I walk to work, how’s it going?” Yeah, that’s not a bit creepy.

So one day, when it was down-pouring, and he went his way to work, believing fully that perhaps today, he might not get to see her, he was surprised to find he was wrong. There she was, wearing a bright red raincoat–but no umbrella.

And he finally found his chance.

Twelve.

Could you write like the smuttiest thing you’ve ever written please!!

I kinda want to blame this request for this sin but oh well… This is pure filth so please don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable with smut. This has not been proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes.xxx

Y/N couldn’t believe how stupid she was when she agreed to this. She regretted it the moment she said yes. Now it’s been almost two weeks. Twelve days. 288 hours. Not that she was counting.
It happened during a night in with Harry. They both had a bit too much of red wine, their lips stained and their words getting slurred and silly.

“I bet you couldn’t go a week without sex.”
She looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, her deep red lips parted.
“What? I can totally go without sex. Unlike you, you’re a horny mess after an hour without sex.” she smirked at him.
“S'not true! I bet I can go longer without sex than you.” he stated proudly.
“A bet? You wanna bet, Styles?”
“Yes. We’ll see who can go longer without sex.”
“And what does the winner get?”
“Mind blowing sex.”


Exactly that was what she was craving for right now, mind blowing sex. It wasn’t that she was addicted to sex or needed it to function but when your boyfriend is Harry Styles and looks like a goddamn adonis and you know exactly what he’s able to do with his perfect body it’s hard not to get horny.
He was teasing her as well, every morning his hand would wander a bit too low when they were cuddling and every time he came out of the shower his towel was almost falling off and sometimes it really did fall off, accidentally of course.
She was teasing him as well though, only sleeping in one of his shirts and a pair of lace panties or wearing her favorite pair of jeans which she knew made her ass look extremely good.
It didn’t help her though, he noticed all her teasing and sexy looks but he never made a move on her. He wanted to win this bet.
She wanted to as well but if she was quite honest she didn’t think she was able to go another hour without his naked body pressed to hers.
She knew he was upstairs right now, in their ensuite bathroom, taking a shower. And she knew he would come down in a few minutes, showing off his irresistible body.
She couldn’t take it anymore, her body was going crazy. The constant ache between her legs made her feel dizzy and the fact that she just needed him made her go upstairs.
She entered their bedroom, smelling his shower gel. She wanted him. She needed him. She didn’t care about the bet anymore, it’s been too long.
He came out of the door a minute later, surprised to see her standing in the middle of their bedroom, looking all nervous and messy.
“You okay, love? You look a bit flustered.”
She shook her head, she was almost near tears now. The desperation and frustration grew inside of her, making her body move over to his and pressing her lips to his in a hard kiss.
She felt his shock, before he finally began to kiss her back and wrap his arms around her.
“What’s going on, hm?”
He knew exactly what was going on, she was needy. But he wanted to hear her say it.
“Want you. I-I need you. Harry, please, I can’t-”
“Shh, baby.” he shushed her rambling gently.
“What so you need, hm?”
“You, please.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Harry!” she exclaimed frustrated.
“I need to hear you say it, baby. C'mon tell me.”
“I want you to fuck me.” she whimpered.
He smirked at her, satisfied with her answer.
“But then you’ll loose the bet, darling.”
“I don’t care about this fucking bet, Harry! This was such as stupid idea. I just want you to fuck me, take me in every way you like.”
“So desperate? S'not even been two weeks, my love.”
“But it’s been too long.”
“Alright, s'true. Get out of these clothes, baby.”
She did as he said, immediately throwing her shirt to the floor and stepping out of her jeans and panties.
“Good girl. Now lie down on the bed for me.”
She lied down on her back, waiting for him to come to her. She heard his towel hitting the floor, falling beside her clothes. She looked up at him as he started to crawl onto the bed until he was hovering over her naked form but not touching her yet.
“Didn’t think you could go this long without having me fuck you, baby.” he whispered against her neck, his lips brushing over her skin and making goosebumps arise on her whole body.
“Didn’t think I could go so long without fucking you.”
He pressed the first kiss against her sweet spot, right under her ear and her bach arched off the back, pressing her chest against his. She heard him groan quietly when her naked tits touched his chest.
“I missed this so fucking much, baby. Never again, yeah?”
“Never.” she agreed.
His kisses wandered lower, over her collarbones down to her boobs. He nibbled on the skin there, using his tongue to lick over it. When he reached her nipples he sucked on each of them, licking over the pink flesh before he released it and wandered lower.
He took his time with kissing ever inch of her but this wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him to be gentle and loving. She wanted him to be rough. Really rough.
“Harry, please.”
He knew that tone, the desperation and need in it. He knew he was torturing her right now but he won’t keep going like this. He’s going to give her what she wants.
He came up from where he was kissing around her hips, looking her in the eyes. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips, covering her mouth in a sweet and passionate way.
“You went twelve days without this, right? Twelve is a nice number.”
His face moved to the side, his nose nuzzling into her hair and his mouth right over her ear.
“How about I make you come twelve times? A orgasm for every single day you didn’t have me.”
She whimpered at his words, wanting that. Wanting him to make her come undone as many times as possible.
“How’s that sound?”
“Please, Harry.”
“Yes? You want that?”
“Yes.”
“Gonna count them, okay? Gonna count every time you come for me, yeah?”
“Yes, Harry.” she nodded frankly.
He moved down her body again, until he was right between her legs. He grabbed her knees, making them bend and her feet plant on the mattress. He started to kiss down her left thigh, moving closer to where she was pink and aching for him.
She spread her lips apart when he decided it was enough of the teasing, groaning when he saw how wet she was. He glided his middle finger between her lips, gathering some of her juices and rubbing over her clit with them. A breathy moan left her lips at the contact, missing his touch too much.
He finally leaned down then, licking a broad stripe between her pussy lips and humming at the taste of her. He loved this when she filled all his senses, he was only able to see her, smell her, taste her and feel her.
He licked over her clit, lapping at it with the tip of his tongue. He circled the nub before he licked over it from side to side and then moved down to her entrance where he pushed his tongue inside and moved it up and down against her walls. She was moaning and groaning, her hands in Harry’s hair, pulling it and messing it up.
He hooked her thighs over his shoulders so he had better access to her and could bury his face deeper into her. His hands were sprawled out on her hips, holding them down so she couldn’t squirm away.
He licked her deeper now, right between her lips and massaging all the right places. He could feel her getting close already, her thighs beginning to shake, her pussy beginning to clench and the juices kept pouring out of her.
“Harry, I-I’m gonna-” a loud moan interrupted her words when he licked over just the perfect spot.
He sucked on her clit then, trapping it between his lips and massaging it with his tongue at the same time. She came within seconds, screaming out into the bedroom and pulling Harry closer by his hair. He groaned against her when he felt her come, loving the way she moved her pussy against his face and her cum dripped out of her. He knew she came hard, her voice breaking with every moan and her body shaking and trembling with the waves of pleasure that cursed through her whole body and made everything clench.
When her thighs finally fell open and Harry was sure he got every drop of her he sat up, breathing harshly. His lips were swollen and wet with her and his eyes dark and wild.
“You forgot something, my love.” he reminded her.
She wasn’t able to think properly, her brain probably jelly just like her bones. She remembered what he requested of her earlier though.
“One.”
“Good girl.” he praised her.
He moved up again, kissing her briefly.
“Sit up.”
She did as he said, sitting up and watching how he lay down on the bed.
“Over my face, darling.”
“What? Harry, no.”
He knew she didn’t like this too much. It felt amazing and she knew that but she hated the thought of sitting on his face. She was always scared of hurting him.
“Baby, c'mon. You know how good it’s gonna feel.”
She looked at him skeptical for a second before she sighed and gave in. She moved so she was straddling his face. He pulled her down immediately, making her sit right on his mouth. She moaned immediately when she felt his tongue on her again, dragging up the full crease of her.
“Yes! Oh fuck.” she moaned out and she knew Harry was smirking against her.
He moved one hand from where he was holding onto her thigh to her mouth, silently telling her to suck his fingers and get them wet. She wrapped her lips around them, getting them dripping wet. When he was happy with her sucking he moved them down to her entrance, immediately pushing two fingers inside of her, causing her to moan at the delicious stretch.
Harry started pumping his fingers inside of her, stroking that one spot she could never reach herself.
Y/N’s hands reached up to hold onto the headboard, moving her hips against Harry’s mouth. He moaned against her when he felt her starting to ride his mouth, letting her move just how she pleased.
He resettles her above him after a moment and then she feels the firm press of his hot tongue against her clit, licking it with just the perfect pressure.
Harry fucks into her with his fingers, twisting and curling them. His lips sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking over it and making sharp pleasure run up her spine.
“Y-Yes, oh shit.”
She was already so close again, almost overwhelmed with all the pleasure he made her feel.
Harry curled his fingers inside of her, pressing hard against her g-spot. She’s clenching down around his fingers, so close to coming. He hummed against her, the vibrations hitting her clit immediately and that was all it took for her to explode again.
“Harry, yes!”
Harry’s fingers fucked her through it, prolonging her orgasm and keeping her right there. His lips kept on sucking on her clit, making her come so hard she fell forward against the headboard. Harry held onto her ass cheeks then, moving her against his mouth in the same way he would do it if she was sitting on his cock.
“Harry, oh fuck!”
He kept on moving her against him with his hands on her ass cheeks, licking her so deep she came for the third time with a shaky cry and clenching thighs.
She whines when it gets too much and Harry lets go of her, helping her off him.
“What was that, my love?”
“Three.”
Y/N was shaking, a whimpering mess but Harry knew she wanted to keep going. Needed to keep going.
Harry needed this himself, he missed this over the last two weeks. His dick was standing to his full potential already, his tip a angry shade of red and leaking precum that made it look slick.
“Can you sit on my cock, baby?” he asked her sweetly, innocence lacing his words.
She nodded the tiniest bit, moving so she was straddling his hips. She eyed his dick hungrily, missing that body part the most. She took hold of his shaft, enjoying the fact that Harry groaned out at the feel of her hand around him.
She lined herself up with his tip, sinking down immediately. Loud groans left both of their mouths, their eyes falling shut with the pleasure that came with having each other like this again.
Y/N took him as deep as possible, sitting properly on his dick with her ass hitting his thighs. She began to rock her hips, making him rub against her favorite spot. Harry was looking up at her, not quite sure if he should look at her blissed out face or the place where his dick was sliding into her pussy.
Her hands were on his butterfly tattoo, bracing herself. She bounced on him then, making his dick fill her up with every movement of her hips.
“Yes, fuck yourself on my cock.” Harry groaned out, moving his hands to her thighs.
Y/N was moaning and whimpering above him, slamming down so hard on his cock that her ass created a filthy sound against his thighs.
One of her hands wandered to in between her legs, rubbing at her clit to get herself there faster. Harry felt his eyes rolling back in his head when he saw her touching herself right on his dick, the sight so overwhelmingly sexy that he was sure he could come right then and there.
He felt it when she was close, her walls squeezing his dick and her hips moving even faster. She kept on rubbing herself until she finally came with a hoarse shout, her whole body shaking with the pure pleasure her own fingers and his cock made her experience. She came hard, Harry could feel her slick coating his cock and dripping onto his thighs. Her pussy was squeezing Harry’s dick so hard he saw stars but he wouldn’t come, not until he got everything from her.
“Four.” she moaned out when she finally stopped the movements of her hips, her fingers still stroking over her clit to ride out her orgasm properly.
Harry sat up when she wanted to let him slid out of her, pulling her by her thighs tightly to him so she was still sitting on his cock. A surprised shriek left her at his movements, her eyes wide and her mouth parted.
He slapped her fingers away from her pussy, replacing them with his own and rubbing her bundle of nerves in hard circles. A high pitched moan left her, trying to squirm away from his fingers.
“Harry, fuck I-”
“I want you to come, right on my cock from only my fingers.”
She groaned disbelievingly, she felt his cock so deep inside of her, she just wanted to move and make him fuck up inside of her but he held her down on his dick, not letting her move the slightest bit.
His fingers were rubbing her clit so roughly but just the way she liked it and she came within seconds, still worked up from her last orgasms.
Her pussy clenched down on Harry’s cock, making him groan out but he kept still, only feeling her orgasm on him. He rubbed her through it, the way her pussy squeezed his cock making him moan right with her.
“Five.”
He removed his fingers from her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lying down with her on top of him, his dick still inside of her. He knew she would be sore the next day but it didn’t matter.
He bent his knees, planting his feet on the mattress. Her thighs were spread, her knees on either side of his hips. He gave her one experimental thrust, loving the way she moaned out loud at the pleasure.
He unwrapped his arms from around her, his hands grabbing onto her ass, spreading her cheeks apart before he fucked up into her. He held her down on his cock so she couldn’t move, his dick slamming into her hard and fast. She was screaming against his shoulder, his dick feeling so fucking good inside of her. Harry was moaning into her neck, this position absolutely wrecking him as well.
Y/N came so fast it was incredible, screaming and sobbing loudly against Harry, her nails leaving scratches on his arm. He slowed down a bit when she kept on crying out against his shoulder, now rolling his hips into her rather than thrusting with full force.
“S-Six.” she stammered out when she was able to think again.
“Such a good girl, baby. You still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He pounded her pussy again, his thighs slapping against her ass hard. He slapped down on her ass with both hands at that was all she needed before she came again. She wasn’t able to count her seventh orgasm because it became her eighth right afterwards, growing into one mind blowing orgasm that made her shout out.
“Yes, baby.” Harry breathed out when her pussy got incredibly tight again.
“Eight.”
He made her sit up then, letting him slip out of her.
“Hands and knees, love.”
It took her a bit longer than usual to position herself due to the shaking of her limbs but she managed to within a few moments.
He lined himself up behind her, sliding into her immediately. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back to his chest. He spread her thighs a bit wider so he had more access before he began to fuck her again, her ass hitting his thighs loudly with every move.
She came again within seconds, her pussy now so sensitive that it only needed a few thrusts to explode. Harry moved one hand to her clit before she could finish completely, intensifying her orgasm with his hard circles against her nerves and making her groan out.
He fucked her right through it, not letting up on his pace and his rubbing.
“Harry! Oh!”
Another orgasm rocked through her body, making her fall forwards. Harry let her, leaning over her and still rubbing her clit with his fingers.
“T-Ten.”
He removed his hand from her, pressing her down on the bed completely and slamming into her so hard the whole bed moved and the headboard kept on hitting the wall with loud thuds.
He didn’t even feel her next orgasm, her pussy grew so tight around him that he wasn’t able to feel her clenching anymore. But she did come, he could hear it, her loud moans and shouts.
“Eleven.” she whimpered out.
She was completely fucked out, he knew she was but she had one more inside of her. Only one more.
Harry was right there, at the edge of his orgasm and he knew he only needed a few more seconds before he would come inside of her. Y/N was still lying on her stomach, her hands gripping onto the sheets.
“You gonna come with me, baby?”
She only moaned at that was all he needed before he began to pound away, paying attention to that one spot inside of her that would make her explode within seconds.
And she did come within a few short moments, coming harder than ever around him. Her juices came pouring out of her, drenching the sheets underneath them. Her scream was so loud it teared right through Harry, making him come deep inside of her and coating her walls with his hot release. He stilled inside of her, pushing as deep as he could go, his cock still releasing rope after rope of sticky white cum.
He was scared that she passed out for a moment but her moans and whimpers reassured him that she was still conscious. He pulled out of her finally, hearing her whimper at the loss. He looked down and saw her release mixed with his cum pouring out of her, onto the sheets.
He lied down beside her, his breathing harsh and ragged.
“You okay, my love?” he asked her softly, his hand stroking over her back.
She looked at him with half lidded eyes, her lips parted.
“How the fuck did you make me come twelve times?”
Her voice was wrecked, raspy from all the shouting she’d done.
Harry laughed out at her words, his shoulders shrugging.
“I’ve got no idea. But it was hot as fuck.”
She turned around finally, laying her head on his chest with a sigh.
“We are never ever going without sex again. Never.” she stated.
“Never.” he agreed.
“We need to change the sheets.” she whispered after a few moments, a bit of embarrassment audible in her voice.
“That we have to do, love. Never thought you could come like this. My dick really has to be amazing.”
She hit his chest playfully, scolding him with her eyes.
“Shut up, you wanker.”
“Oi! I’m very glad that I don’t have to wank anymore, thank you very much.”
“Oh god, Harry.”

there was a girl in yellow
a girl who hid behind the color of sunlight, hope, happiness
to try and outshine the darkness she constantly battled with
there was a girl in yellow
a girl who could stare at van gogh’s “sunflowers” painting for hours on end
because she saw so much of herself in the ailing artist
there was a girl in yellow
in japan, the color represents courage
and everyday, she was so brave; battling demons no one else could see, suffocated under secrets she couldn’t yet share, struggling every morning just to get out of bed
there was a girl in yellow
a girl who teetered on the edge of spontaneous and instability,
always struggling for balance
there was a girl in yellow
too much of it can cause a loss of focus, while too little can cause feelings of isolation
and she is the perfect amount
there was a girl in yellow
a girl who brought warmth and joy and color to so many greyscale lives
who gave them a light to see when they couldn’t
gave them brightness in their darkness
gave them hope
there was a girl in yellow
it burst out of her chest
like sunbeams
there was a girl in yellow
it flowed from her lips like flower petals
floating through the air whenever she sang
there was a girl in yellow
it oozed from her core
sweeter than honey
and even in the shadows and dullest corners, you could see her so clearly
the girl in yellow
there was a girl in yellow
and she embodied it so well
it was almost as if the color was made just for her
—  there was a girl in yellow // inspired by/written for @doddleoddle 
(cc, 2017)
Best Friends (Part 1)

Summary: Meeting in college, you and Bucky strike up a friendship. And that is all there is, until Bucky realizes he’s in love with you. But it might just be a little too late for that. 

Word Count: 882

A/N: Another one, Tesla? Yep. I’d apologize but nahhh. This is based off of “Made of Honor.” Hope you all enjoy!

Originally posted by duckybarness

The words were becoming blurry on the screen and you knew you had probably written an entire page of incoherencies by now. Rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands, you took a deep breath and exhaled through your mouth, lips flapping at the force of the air leaving. Scratching behind your ear in frustration, you knew you had to go to bed and finish your paper the following morning. You were hopeless. Sleep was necessary, no matter how ahead you wanted to get on homework.

The party outside was still in full swing, but you were used to that by now. Your dorm was known to have the best parties in the campus and tonight was a Thursday. Tonight’s party was a prelude to tomorrow’s they said, but that didn’t make it any less rowdy than any other rave.

Keep reading

10

Barry White Jr, a 5th grade English teacher in NC, has a special handshake for each one of his students

“I started with one simple handshake last year with a 4th grader. She would wait for me every morning before she’d go to class. She’d get in trouble sometimes for being late because she’d wait on the handshake. 

This year I started making handshakes with the kids at recess. It was just one or two students and then it became contagious. I saw how much it meant to them, so I said, ‘Come on. Everyone come on.’ Then it was my full class, then it was kids from other classes. Now I have 3rd graders wanting to do it too.”

it’s nice to see teacher who are more than just uniform, who care about their students, as the individual people they are and want make learning and school enjoyable for these kids and encourage them. I wish every student, regardless of race, would treat every teacher, regardless of race, like this!

youtube

The first time I saw her…
Everything in my head went quiet.
All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I’m thinking:
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips..
Or the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek.
I knew I had to talk to her.
I asked her out six times in thirty seconds.
She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going.
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or fucking talking to her…
But she loved it.
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday.
She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door eighteen times.
I’d always watch her mouth when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked
when she talked;
when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.
At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off.
She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her.
Some mornings I’d start kissing her goodbye but she’d just leave cause I was
just making her late for work…
When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking…
When she said she loved me her mouth was a straight line.
She told me that I was taking up too much of her time.
Last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place.
She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but…
How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touched her?
Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t.
I can’t – I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her.
Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars…
And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.
I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel..
How she turns shower knobs like she’s opening a safe.
How she blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out…
Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.
I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once — he doesn’t care if it’s perfect!
I want her back so bad…
I leave the door unlocked.
I leave the lights on.

“OCD” by Neil Hilborn 

I love the idea of Blake doing romantic things for Yang. Like buying her flowers and chocolates for absolutely no reason at all. 

Blake leaving little folded up love notes in random places or tucking them away in Yang’s things when she goes away on missions. 

Blake takes pictures of pretty things she sees like sunsets and landscapes and sends them to Yang with the same text of “a close second” because they’re never quite as beautiful in Blake’s eyes as Yang is. 

Blake always putting things on Yang’s left side because she knows Yang likes to use her real arm as often as possible.

Blake also making sure to hold Yang’s robot hand at any opportunity she gets to remind Yang that it absolutely does not bother her at all. 

Blake tagging along with Yang on every random morning Yang wakes up itching for adventure and never complaining. 

Blake laying awake at night wondering what she ever did to deserve a girl like Yang who pulled her out of the darkness, but losing her train of thought because Yang rolls over and cuddles her in her sleep. 

Blake loves Yang. 

I swear I’ve posted this on every form of social media… but I love this collar sooooo much. I just got it in this morning from Tiggers Collars and I’m completely and utterly obsessed. I would definitely recommend buying from her shop. I can’t wait until she opens her customs up again!

If you guys wanted to see more kitten/personal things you can follow my Instagram! Its ZombiexxKitten. I’m starting to put up more gear posts as I get it in. 💕💕 I would love to have more pet friends on there!

When Chasing Love (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Hiii, this is like my first ever Stuart fic. I’ve technically done one with the Hoes a while back but this is my first individual one. The title of this was based off a poem by Michael Faudet that is the bases for this fic. I want to thank @writing-obrien as usual for being my biggest motivator and helper, but I’m also going to thank her for any future help she will undoubtly lend me. This is really different than I’ve written before, but it was the best way I could think to give a good perspective from all sides instead of one. I also wanted to try this style of writing out, because I do plan on writing a Styida fic at some point. I hope you guys like this and thank you all for being wonderfully beautiful people.

Warning: Public Fingering and Alcohol Abuse (Because again, they’re drunk.)

Word Count: 3847

Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

Keep reading

The Promise

Title: The Promise (Mechanic!Dean x Reader, Best Friends AU). Part 1.

Summary: When Dean Winchester was a little kid, he met a girl that would change his life. So, he stood by her through thick and thin and every time people asked him what home was to him all he could think of was her beautiful smile and her big, bright eyes and the sound of her laughter. Because, like Melville used to say, his home was not down in any map. True places never are.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Mary and John Winchester (mentioned), Sam Winchester, Benny Laffite, Leslie (OFC, only mentioned), Lisa Braeden

Word count: 7217 (I know, I know, it’s a monster fic but I hope it’s worth it)

Warnings: Language. Lots of fluff. Angst. Divorche, mentions of an almost-fatal car accident and drunk driving, death of a parent. Kid Dean (trust me that should be a warning). Lots of feels. 

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @luci-in-trenchcoats ‘s 2K Follower Challenge. Michelle, congratulations on your milestone, you deserve it so much! Thank you for organizing this and for letting me participate. I had tons of fun writing this.

Now into the fic, my prompt was “ We’ll figure it out. We always do.” and it is included in the text below in bold. (This is an AU, written entirely from Dean’s POV and hopefully they’ll be more parts.) 

Enjoy everyone!


Dean was five years old when he met the girl that would change his life. Of course, he was too young to know it then, but that didn’t stop Lady Luck from working her magic.

Everything started at the playground just a few blocks away from his house. The little Y/H/C girl was there again that morning, just like the last two times, jumping off the swing like she could fly, but Dean didn’t want to leave his mum and his brother alone to go talk to her. So, he stayed away, stealing glances every now and then, until another boy, older than him and plainly mean, shoved her off the swing and made her fall flat on her butt.

The girl gasped in surprise, her bottom lip wobbling and Dean knew he had to do something about it because he hated seeing girls cry; it reminded him of that time his parents spent the entire night fighting, and of the next morning, when his mother’s eyes were red and puffy and he had to hug her and tell her that joke about the stick being brown and sticky to make her laugh.

So, the green-eyed boy walked to that annoying kid, told him to leave her alone and when he didn’t listen and made fun of her again, Dean punched him so hard that his stupid Pokemon hat flew off and his whole face turned red.

A few seconds later, Stupid Hat was leaving with his tail between his legs and Dean was turning towards the girl that looked like a scared little bird, her big Y/E/C eyes wide open.

“Are you okay?” he implored, taking a step forward.

She nodded solemnly and looked down on the ground.

“Are you going to be mean to me like he was?” she asked.

Dean shook his head.

“No. He was an idiot. Here, give me your hand.” He said and she obeyed, smiled shyly at him.

She was kind of cute.

Keep reading

We Are Young: Chapter 3

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

——————–

Elide sat perched on the footsteps of the house. The morning sun beamed down on her, the sky a crystal blue. A light breeze picked up, blowing around her hair as she pulled her jacket tighter around her. They were only a week or so into October, and the wind definitely held that harsh, autumn bite. But today, it was chillier than normal. She’d definitely be warmer if she were to just wait inside. But being inside would mean a higher chance of seeing her uncle. And she wasn’t in the mood to start her day off by having a lovely chat with Uncle Vernon. Especially on game day.

After going through her normal, quiet routine of getting ready for school, Elide had made her way downstairs. She prayed to every god she knew that it would be one of those mornings where her uncle was passed out. Thankfully, her prayers were answered.

When she made it to the living room, she found Uncle Vernon asleep on the couch. A half empty bottle was clenched in his hand as he snored loudly. Not wanting to risk waking him and getting yelled at this early, Elide went outside. Which is how she found herself sitting on the front steps of her parents’ old home.

She didn’t remember them well, her parents. They died when she was young. She grew up with her Uncle, who was always a cold evil bastard. But when his business burned down years ago and he last basically everything, that’s when the drinking started and things got worse…

Keep reading

It is the 29th of January, and I am eighty-nine years old, sitting in the garden of my Sussex cottage and watching the world’s only consulting detective play the violin. Her blonde hair is a mass of curls and the heels of her shoes are sinking into the grass as she sways and dances with the instrument. Sherlock has been dead for two years and missing him is an ache in my chest, except for those brief moment when I close my eyes and listen to Rose coax his instrument to life, and dream.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” comes the soft murmur as the music stops. “I’m going to have to go soon. Miranda said she might need me to look at this really interesting murder she’s got.”

I nod and smile and get to my feet and-

 I’m standing in a lab at Bart’s and the most unearthly man I have ever seen asks to borrow my mobile and I say yes, and I do not understand in that moment that I will never stop saying yes to this man.

Soft grass under my cheek and Rose is crying as she turns me

I am strapped into a bomb and I am telling him to run, and I do not know that I have just carved out his heart and taken it for my own.

The sun haloes her hair and tears fall on my face.

I am standing in front of a grave and asking for another miracle, not knowing that my miracle is making his way toward me as I stand there.

I try to tell her not to cry. I am not sure if I succeed.

I am standing in front of the man I love with tears on my face, and he draws me close and enfolds me in his boundless compassion.

She smiles at me and throws her phone to the ground and holds my hands in hers. The sky behind her is fading to grey, and it occurs to me to wonder if I am dying.

I am wordless and at the end of my rope, and Sherlock has mercy on me and kisses me and I know that I hold his heart in his hands and he, mine.

She’s speaking but I can’t hear her. There’s a sound like a train whistle, like a summons bell, and I can’t hear her.

I am on my knees and I have just asked Sherlock Holmes to marry me, and he falls to his knees with tears in his eyes and says yes yes yes like a prayer or a song or the only word he knows.

She strokes her hand across my brow and smiles at me again, and the whistle fades.

I wake up every morning for a thousand days and he’s there, sleep-rumpled and happy and smiling at me as though I’d hung the moon.

“I love you, Daddy,” she murmurs as her hand cups my cheek. “Thank you for staying so long, I love you but it’s time to go.”

I’m watching my daughter get married and my husband is at my side and we go home and cry tears of joy on each other’s skin and make slow love in front of the fire.

“Tell Sherlock I love him, and I’ll see you again someday,” my daughter says and kisses my forehead.

I’m standing at the foot of a hospital bed, and monitors are screaming and doctors are shouting but they needn’t bother, he’s already gone. Always rushing ahead, my beloved, leaving me to tag along behind him. Well, no matter, I’ll catch up.

I am adrift in whiteness but there, there is a tall shadow in the distance. A man, perhaps, running. He has his coat collar up so he looks cool, and he’s shouting ‘Come on, John!’ and I follow. I will always follow. My legs are young and strong as they haven’t been in forty years or more, and the head of the man in front of me is dark as the midnight sky, and I am young and he is young and we are young here, together. Forever.

Oh, God, yes,” I say, and I run.

Tags under the cut (hope they work)

Keep reading

Sleepless

Anonymous request for Andreil hurt/comfort: “How long has it been since you slept?” (I’m really sorry I answered the original ask with a “hey I’ll write this” instead of saving it to answer directly… hope you see this, anon!)

Neil stumbled out of the lecture hall, blinking his tired eyes at the afternoon sun slanting across the campus. His hands and feet felt numb and there was a cottony feeling muffling everything. He could barely tie his shoes that morning or write notes during class. Mostly he had spent the day staring, eyes blank, white noise drowning out his teachers and classmates. It was a dangerous state to be in. He knew how his mother would punish him for getting this far-gone. But if he was with his mother she would have made sure he slept every night, the two of them sleeping in shifts and watching out for each other.

Practice was a waking nightmare. Some of the haze burned off, allowing Neil to focus on drills but it still took all of his concentration. And the delay wasn’t helping, that nearly imperceptible gap between when something happened and when his exhausted brain finished processing it. Neil sprinted down the field, ready to make a play and score. But his eyes misjudged the speed and the trajectory of the ball and WHAM! The ball slammed into his helmet, sending him crashing to the floor. He dimly heard Kevin yelling at him as he crawled to his feet. The ringing in his ears was worse and spots flashed across his eyes. Neil took a step forward and tripped, going back down.

“Stay down.”

Neil obeyed. It was a relief to be told to stop, to rely on the hands gripping the back of his neck and his shoulder as he crouched on the court.

Without warning Neil felt his stomach rebel against him—

“Andrew—” he could barely speak. “Gonna be sick.” Neil tried to tug off his glove, wanted to cover his mouth, but he didn’t make it. Andrew barely had time to pull off his helmet before Neil threw up. He had skipped lunch and barely had any breakfast so it wasn’t totally awful but still…

“Oh Christ, Josten!” Kevin’s voice pierced through the haze, angry and loud. “You have to be shitting me.”

“Fuck off,” Andrew growled. He helped Neil up, guiding him off the court. “We’re done for today,” he told Kevin and Wymack. Wymack sent them to Abby while Kevin complained loudly and told everyone else to get back to work.

Neil leaned heavily on Andrew, feeling more rattled by the impact than he should have. He hadn’t been sick like that since… well, since he had been tortured. It made him feel incredibly weak and dangerously vulnerable.

After an examination Abby announced that Neil mostly likely had a minor concussion due to his symptoms of nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in his ears, sensitivity to light, and delayed reactions. Neil didn’t tell her that almost all of those symptoms had been present before he took a ball to the helmet. Because telling Abby would be admitting to her, and Andrew, the true cause of his sickness. Abby prescribed bed rest and banned him from practice for the next few days. Kevin would be livid.

Andrew didn’t speak the entire ride back to Fox Tower. He helped Neil get to their dorm suite, helped him to the shower, and left. Neil slowly peeled off his clothes and got in the shower. He had turned off the overhead light but left the sink light on. With the curtain pulled the shower was dim enough that he didn’t have to squint. The warm water felt amazing. Neil sat down in the tub and leaned back against the wall, letting the water drum steadily against his aching skin. He was so tired.

Neil didn’t know how long he had sat in the shower staring dazedly at the water spiraling down the drain. By the time Andrew finally decided to retrieve him the water had gone cold and Neil’s skin was pruny. Andrew huffed in exasperation but got Neil on his feet and dried off, hauling him back to their room and putting him to bed.

The room was dim and quiet and Andrew was close, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands bunched in the cover while he watched Neil with empty, emotionless eyes.

“How long has it been since you slept?”

There was no hiding from the question or from Andrew’s intent gaze. Neil squirmed.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Neil shut his eyes for a moment, the grittiness so irritating that he felt tears prick at the corners.

“Neil. How long.”

“Days,” Neil mumbled. “I think I slept on Sunday.”

The mattress creaked as Andrew leaned forward, getting in Neil’s face.

“It’s Thursday, you idiot. What have you been doing at night when you’re not sleeping? Because I know you didn’t get out of bed.”

Neil tried to shrug but he couldn’t, the sheets tucked in too firmly, Andrew’s weight pinning him.

“I just can’t sleep.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Andrew gently pulled Neil’s lower eyelid down and frowned. “You look like you’re turning into one of those red eyed zombies. Is that what’s happening? You got bit? You’re just waiting until we’re all passed out to eat our brains.”

Neil snorted and leaned into Andrew’s palm. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Biding my time.”

“Sneaky.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, Andrew’s thumb brushing back and forth across Neil’s scars. It was so soothing that for a second Neil almost dropped off but the moment he started sliding into unconsciousness his eyes snapped open.

“What?” Andrew asked, moving his hand to cup Neil’s chin.

“I don’t know,” Neil admitted. “I feel anxious, like I did before Baltimore. I can’t shake it, even though I know he’s dead and Riko’s dead and we’re as safe as we’ll ever be.”

Andrew moved his hand down, trailing fingers along Neil’s throat, listening, considering.

“Yes or no?” Andrew’s gaze was careful, assessing. If he thought Neil wasn’t in a good place…

“Yes.” Neil tried to bite back on his eagerness. Yes, always yes.

Andrew started with a kiss, slow and calculated, his lips teasing Neil’s, pulling back and making him rise up, making him follow after Andrew. Neil kicked the covers off and moved over, making room for Andrew in his bed. His heavy exhaustion burned away with Andrew’s touch and a sigh escaped Neil’s lips as his back arched off the bed.

Afterwards Andrew came back to bed and let Neil press against him. Neil breathed in Andrew’s scent, listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“How did you know?” Neil whispered.

“I can do math,” Andrew muttered. “You haven’t slept since Sunday. What happened on Sunday?”

Neil thought about it, remembered waking up sleepy and warm in Columbia. Remembered how Andrew had taken him apart, a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others. Despite everything Neil blushed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Junkie.”

“I also got that e-mail from Stuart.”

Andrew didn’t say anything. Neil had already told him what Stuart had relayed. It was nothing new but it was still an unwelcome reminder of how, even with Andrew and exy and the Foxes, Neil was still owned by so many people.

“I should have paid better attention,” Andrew said.

“No, I should have just… told you. Not made it a big secret. It just hit me at a bad time.”

The anniversary of his mother’s death. The words went unsaid but Andrew understood. He stroked the side of Neil’s face, pushed his fingers into the auburn curls, tugging a little. Neil relaxed, let himself be comforted.

“Get some sleep, Neil. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Neil closed his eyes and surrendered himself into Andrew’s keeping. Lost himself in the thrum of Andrew’s heart, the dragging weight of his fingers, the scent of his skin. He slept.

Feel free to send me prompts!

Absolution

Author: @sebastianstandoffish

Pairing: Reader (She/Her) x Steve

Summary: Steve has to come to terms with his mistakes, and maybe learn how to grow from them.

Word Count: 3,638

Category: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Cursing like a sailor, Anxiousness, Mentions of injury, blood, etc.

A/N: It’s been a long time, friends! I sat down and actually finished this baby. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!


A rough mission gone south is all it took to push them that far, yanked at their muscles and their sanity until they snapped. It was a brutal fight, the first real one they’d had in a long time, full of precisely sharpened words, ones that would surely strike deep.

Funny, the damage you can do when you love someone, when you know them so well that you have access to the deepest, darkest places in their soul.

Keep reading

Why I Need You

Characters - Bucky Barnes, Reader, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Summary/Request - Yay! Could you write one with Bucky? He and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know how to tell the other. Maybe some commentary from the other Avengers? Little smut if you’re not opposed to it ;)

Word Count - 4,441

Warnings - Smut…Fingering, Unprotected sex… A little bit of language, little bit of angst..and of course some fluff
(If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - First ever Avengers/Marvel fic, so be gentle XD
Couple songs included are Think A Little Less, She thinks she needs me, and This Is Why I Need You
Huge thank you (again) to my sister Wren for helping edit! <3

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask!) - @theimpossibleg1rl​ @charliesxora@amantedelcalcio@hushothermuses@i-stole-rudolphs-nose​  @officialbroski10-blog@thepalaceofmelanie@serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes@buckyywiththegoodhair
(tagged a couple people who I know write Marvel..and have said people can tag them…I would love y’all’s input since it’s my first Marvel/Bucky fic)

Story:

Working with the Avengers was a challenge to say the least.
An enjoyable one, but still a challenge.

This was why Y/N had opted to keep her apartment in the city. So she could have a safe, familiar place to escape to when things got just too… heroically crazy.

It was rare that she would stay at the Tower over night, but Tony had a room set up for her anyway.
When nights like last night came around, she was glad to have a bed to sleep in rather than having to crash on the couch.


Just like every morning, Bucky and Steve had gotten up before everyone else in the Tower and had gone for a run. When they got back, they were a little surprised to see everyone still asleep. Each went to their separate room, to shower and get ready for the day before finding their way back to the kitchen.

Steve and Bucky settled onto the island stools, the former man looking to the latter. “So,” he began.

They had been silent their entire run, but now Steve had Bucky in his clutches…

Keep reading

Reggie Mantle x Reader: Tomboy & Skirts

Request:

What about a Reggie x Reader where the reader is like a total tomboy and one day decides to wear a skirt and Reggie pesters her a bit (Cause friends) and the reader ends up convincing him to wear a skirt to school the next day.

 

A/N: My Wi-Fi is being a butt so these imagines will all be uploaded by Monday when I get to my school with free Wi-Fi lol. This was a cute imagine to write so I hope you guys like it. Also I didn’t know if the requestor wanted to be romantic or not so I just made the reader and Reggie very flirty best friends. If you guys like this one I can see a part two happening, but not if you guys don’t request it. If you guys request it maybe their friendship will become something more. Thanks for your guy’s support it really is making my life.

Words: 1194

Summary: Readers mom makes her wear a skirt for her birthday. Reggie pesters her about it and they make a deal.

Spoilers: Flirty friendship

Warnings: Not that I can think of any.

You grew up in Riverdale the notorious small town of pep (far from it though). You grew up next door to Reggie Mantle. Although many saw him as this pretentious douchebag, you knew him for who he was.  Everything he showed to the town was for attention, he lived for attention.

You two became best friends when he saw that you spent most of your time alone, and so did he. Nowadays you did talk to Archie, Betty, Jughead and Kevin but back then they were inseparable and they didn’t like Reggie because he was a showoff. One day he got in a small wrong encounter with Archie and they kicked him out. Reggie was crying, you had never seen him cry so you were there for him and till this day he was your best friend.

These days you two were partners in crime. You tagged along to his infamous pranks that you secretly enjoyed because you were supposed to be his ’moral compass’. Plenty of people told you to let him go, but you never listened, he was your confidant. Both of you had gone through so many things together to just give up on him because of how he acted towards some.

Although in the high school system you were a bit of an underdog as Reggie rose to popularity and became the quarterback to the varsity football team. Although that never stopped your friendship and you couldn’t be prouder for him, you attended all of his games and cheered him on. People knew to leave you alone because you were pretty feisty and Reggie made sure you were protected.

It was just another day as you got ready for bed because you had school the next day when you heard a knock at your door.

“Come in” you confirmed as your mother made her way in with a bag.

“I got you something to wear for my birthday” she spoke with a smile engraved on her face.

“What?” you rose an eyebrow.

“Well I got you this” she added as she took out a black flowy velvet skirt “I knew you didn’t own one so I decided to buy you one” she continued.

“Mom, I don’t wear skirts, but thank you. It really means a lot” you answered the nicest way possible.

“Oh c’mon look I bought you three. One black, one grey, and one navy blue. They all fit your color spectrum. Please?!?! For my birthday!” she pleaded “I made sure they would all fit your tomboy style, your sad colors” she insisted as you chuckled.

“My sad tomboy style” you sassed back.

“You know I just want to see you in a skirt before I die. You’ll probably wear a pantsuit for my funeral for all I know” she chimed in.

“Fine, only because they kind of look cool and will fit my sad tomboy style, and because you’re my mother” you pleased with a small smile.

“Thank you!” she singed as she pulled you into a hug and exited your room.

The next morning you decided on the black velvet skirt which you matched with a band t-shirt and some converse high tops. You twirled around your room for a bit because it was kind of fun.

You grabbed your things and made your way to the kitchen as your mother took a mental photograph.

“Oh my god, you look stunningly beautiful. Happy birthday to me!” she praised as she took out her phone as took a picture.

“Uh really mom?!” you declared.

“What?! It’s not every day I get to see this” she claimed with a smile plastered on her face.

“Okay well I gotta get to school, happy birthday mom” you chimed in as you took your mom in for a hug.

As you arrived at school and made it to your locker as quickly as you could to avoid any stares, you could swear you heard whispering about your look of the day.

“Well damn (Y/N), if I knew the fairy godmother dropped by I would’ve hit you up” one of the football players spoke with a smirk and Reggie interrupted.

“What do you mean (Y/N)?” Reggie questioned as he did a double take at you with a surprised look.

“(Y/N)?” he finally added.

“The one and only” you answered him.

“Well Santa Claus is a bit late on my wish list” he mocked as you nudged his shoulder.

“Nope, just my mom’s birthday wish” you retorted.

“Really? So not for me?” He smirked as he motioned to his teammates to leave you alone.

“Sorry Mantle in your dreams” you replied.

“Can’t wait for bed then” he mocked back.

“Stop Reg!” you insisted with a giggle.

“Okay, okay I surrender” he motioned his hands up in the air as you both walked to your classes.

“So is she having a party this year?” he questioned you.

“She doesn’t want one, but I’m thinking we do a surprise dinner on Saturday” you stated with a smile.

“Why no party?” Reggie implied with a sad smile.

“Amount of candles she claims, but I found this mold that says ‘mom’ and making a candle with it and we just buy a cake and use that one. What do you think Mantle?” you informed Reggie.

“Sounds good, you up for video games tonight then?” he asked.

“Of course, that shouldn’t even be a question” you claimed with a smile.

“Ah you can put the tomboy in a skirt, but she’ll still be a tomboy” he pestered as he pulled you in for small hug and you hit his chest and made your ways to your classes.

At the end of the school day you walked with him to his house to play video games.

“Can we play Mortal Kombat first” you asked tall dark haired boy.

“I’m sorry skirt what did you say?” he mocked back.

“Are you really gonna bug me about the damn skirt all day” you proclaimed.

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity (Y/N) I am going to make the most of my time” he pointed out.

“I’d like to see you in a skirt” you sassed back.

“I’d make that deal” he responded with a devilish smirk.

“What’s the catch Mantle?” you returned the same look.

“You wear skirts for a whole week” he informed you.

“Deal” you spoke too soon about to motion you hand for a handshake as he interrupted you.

“And you stop using Scorpion as your player, and we finally take that road trip during spring break and you call me by my nickname whenever I want you too” he cockily proposed.

“But I finally mastered all his moves to destroy you, wait what?” you recollected what he just asked.

“You heard me, you’ve been putting off the trip because of money or some other excuse. My parents will give the money, they’ll do anything to not have me around for a bit” he confessed.

“You have a deal Mantle the Magnificent” you concluded as he chuckled and he gave you a twirl as you made your way to buy him a skirt on his size for tomorrow.



Tag: @sgarrett49 @oharchiekinz

Part Two - Part Three -

Lana Del Rey Interviewed By Paris Match, May 17, 2017.

Lana Del Rey lounges on the divan.

She hasn’t left her false eyelashes, but she has gotten rid of her sadness. After two years of absence, the diva of “sad pop” comes back with “Lust for Life” her fifth album which comes out July 21st and “Love” her single, which has already passed 50 million views on YouTube. Same hypnotic voice, same poetic universe for a woman who now has a certain taste for happiness. Since her debut in 2012, on the internet, with Born to Die which made her one of the biggest stars in music, Lana tells us in mind-blowing songs and beautiful music videos of her fragile life as a young girl haunted by death and failure. Today, she says that she has overcome these demons and her toxic relationships. Single, maybe, but a little more light-hearted.

For her, it’s already history. At 17 years old, Elizabeth Woolridge Grant wrote her own songs and made her own music videos: “I took a lot of photos. Then I started to record myself, to use my image.” After seven hellish years of singing in Brooklyn bars, her music video “Video Games,” posted in 2011 and has since been viewed 155 million times, which thrusted the young American into an unforeseen notoriety. She evolved into Lana Del Rey, Lolita 2.0, fan of the sixties who over the course of her songs tells a sometimes indecent and provocative story but always sensual. “I am connected to the future and the past at the same time… That’s why I have few friends…” Today, she sings “I’m young and in love”. But confides that she has found happiness… since she is no longer dating. “I’ve never been lucky in choosing boyfriends”.

She always loved putting on a show: “As a child, I loved making my life a work of art.”
“My passion for beautiful films might explain my aesthetic,” says the woman who would have loved living in the Flower Power of the hippy years.
“Kids. Friends, all that’s a bonus. My dream is simply to be happy.”

From our colleague in Los Angeles Karelle Fitoussi.

Paris Match: We knew you as somber and melancholic, singing your stories about tormented love. You’ve come back with two songs that exude a lack of worry. What happened?

Lana Del Rey: I haven’t been dating for a year and a half. Apparently, that has done me a lot of good. [She laughs] I learned how to say no and to listen to the little voice in my head that tells me to do one thing or another.

Paris Match: You have “Trust no one” tattooed on your hand… Have you often been betrayed?

Lana Del Rey: Yes. I’ve never been good at choosing friends. But now it’s better, I know how to go about it. I’ve learned one thing, and that’s that people show you really quickly who they really are. You have to listen to them, and pay attention to the signs. In the past, I’ve had lovers who’ve told me strange things, things I should have found unacceptable, but I closed my eyes. That doesn’t happen to me anymore. At the smallest indication of something strange, I get out. A love story that doesn’t do you any good is toxic. I finally understand that.

Paris Match: Are you not afraid that your newfound happiness will ruin your inspiration?

Lana Del Rey: No. When I was writing Born to Die, I was living in London, and I met a lot of new people, I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I was full of hope. I saw myself evolving into this type of avant-garde artist and this excitement made creating simple and easy. When the critics starting being really harsh, when things started becoming more violent, that’s when that magic left me. So happiness is obviously a good thing. I’m not afraid.

Paris Match: The New York Times said that you were a “nightmarish reflection of cynicism and of American fakeness.” 

Lana Del Rey: An interesting start to someone’s career, isn’t it? [She laughs] It was horrible, completely horrible. I really must have loved music to have continued after that. But I should’ve stopped. Thankfully, things have changed. I won’t ever change myself to make myself more popular or to make someone else happy.

Paris Match: People have really shamed you for your heavily constructed public image. Some people even said that you’re a puppet.

Lana Del Rey: For a long time, I didn’t understand these reactions. Of course, I paid attention to my look. I had long styled hair, but I was too preoccupied with the music to understand why they talked about me like that. I was waiting for people to figure out for themselves that I was smart… I really had to question myself, to ask why people reacted to me like that. A question of energy, maybe. With a bit of space, even if I find [what they’re saying] ridiculous, I can understand.

Paris Match: If, with a wave of a magic wand, you could start all over, what would you change?

Lana Del Rey: Everything! I don’t even know where to start!

Paris Match: You wouldn’t be a singer?

Lana Del Rey: I love music, there were times where it saved me from my own demons, but it’s a double-edged sword. If I had the opportunity to take a simpler path, I would do it, without hesitation.

Paris Match: When you were younger, you dreamed of being a writer…

Lana Del Rey: Yes, but after having tried from a young age, I knew that I didn’t have the writer’s soul. I tried to write short stories, but they were terrible. So, I tried to do poetry… but it still wasn’t for me! That’s how I decided to write music. [She laughs]. The next step would have been Haikus!

Paris Match: Between two records and two tours, what do you do?

Lana Del Rey: I go to the beach. I swim once per week, I work out with my sister who shares my house with me. I take advantage of the sun and the wonderful Californian nature: with my girlfriends, we go to Big Sur or to Carmel… I never get over seeing the bright light from 7:30 in the morning. For a New Yorker like me, every time it’s still enchanting. Yes, I am that girl you can constantly talk about the time and the weather! But above all what I love the most in Los Angeles, is that there are so many musicians. Every band from London to New York have moved here! Artic Monkeys, The Last Shadow Puppets, Father John Misty… They’re all here in L.A.!

Paris Match: Have you finally found the community of artists you’ve always dreamed of being a part of?

Lana Del Rey: Yes. And when I go on tour, after four months on the road, they’re like me. They want to pick up where we left off. My friends who don’t do music, they’re lives have moved on.

Paris Match: How do you deal with living in the constant view of the paparazzi?

Lana Del Rey: I wrote a song called 13 beaches, which talks about how I do it, last summer, I had to go to 13 different beaches before I could find one without paparazzi, where I laid down with a book. But we can get used to anything. And then maybe it’s worth it. What I can’t get used to, is systematically finding my songs on the internet before they’re supposed to come out. It takes so much time to make a record… a year and a half! When leaving the studio, I always have to hope that they’re secure.

Paris Match: Why do you impose this cycle of every two years for an album?

Lana Del Rey: It’s the time needed for reflection and contemplation. My records are like love letters to myself.

Paris Match: And will you have kids?

Lana Del Rey: When I have kids… I’ll take them on the road with me. Muse’s or Chris Martin’s boys do it well! I have the feeling it’ll work out, whatever I decide to do. It’ll be a nice surprise. Yeah, I would love to have a family.

Paris Match: Is it on your agenda? 

Lana Del Rey: [She laughs]. It’ll happen one day. Without a doubt within the next five years. Kids. Friends, all that’s a bonus. My dream is simply to be happy. Which I am right now.

-Paris Match