binder's label

witches protecting trans boys

Witches drawing a sigil on trans boys’ binder labels to make sure they stay safe and healthy while wearing them

Witches helping trans boys to destroy their dysphoria by getting them to stomp their feet and shaking it all out, quickly sweeping it away with their broom

Witches enchanting a necklace to give trans boys happiness in their hair cut and jaw line

Witches taking trans boys for a calming walk in the forest, making them an antler crown from broken twigs and saying they look like a very handsome forest Prince

Witches giving trans boys a piece of Carnelian to squeeze every time they take a deep breath and prepare to speak to give them confidence in their voice

Witches making up specially charged cups of tea to send positive energy from head to toe as a substitute for T when trans boys are really down for not having it yet, as a magical “tea” shot

Witches cursing transphobes and not letting anyone harm their trans brothers

Witches falling in love with trans boys and being so excited to watch their boyfriends grow into charming young men full of star dust

Witches protecting trans boys

19 Jul 2017 || 

This is not going to be a list of brands or recommendations, but a guide on how to decide what to buy, and things to keep in mind when shopping for stationery. I’m a huge stationery enthusiast and also quite good at organisation, so I hope this will be useful for some of you! 

1. Planning

While it’s nice to just browse the stores from time to time, I recommend to think about what you want to buy before you go shopping to prepare for a new semester or school year. You’ll be less likely to waste money on things you don’t need, and you’ll also be less likely to forget important equipment. Keep the following things in mind: 

  • How do you want to organise your notes etc? Do you need folders, notebooks, loose paper? Do you prefer lines, grid, dotted, or blank paper? Which size do you prefer for notebooks?
  • Do you need special supplies, like a set square, specific pens or pencils for art class, a calculator? 
  • Don’t forget the small stuff - paperclips, eraser, sharpener, pen refills, glue, scissors, compasses… 
  • Do you need a new calendar or filofax inserts? Do you want to start a new method of organisation, like a bullet journal? 
  • Do you need flashcards, post-it notes, page flags? 
  • Do you have to replace something that is broken or can’t be used anymore after your last semester/year? 

If necessary, write a list! (You’ll find an example below.)

2. Brands & Aesthetic 

I can’t write a post about stationery and not address this. You shouldn’t spend loads of money on brands or supplies you don’t actually want or need just to fulfil an aesthetic! But we need to distinguish between the “studyblr aesthetic” and people’s personal aesthetic, which is a different thing. Some like their supplies to be very minimalistic, some like it colourful or flowery, some like it if all their supplies come from the same company and who couldn’t imagine switching their fineliner brand ever in their life. In my opinion that’s a good thing - if you like working with and around your supplies, it can make studying more enjoyable! My supplies are all quite plain, but practical - I’ve learnt how thick my paper needs to be and which pens have the best flow for my handwriting. With time, you’ll get there too! I’d recommend to look at the different options in some stores and decide on what you like best. Find a balance between practicability, quality, and aesthetic - that’s easier said than done, but you know best what works for you! 

3. Money

  • Good stationery doesn’t have to be expensive, and high-end pens or whatever don’t help you get better grades!
  • Get refills for your pens instead of whole new pens. 
  • Don’t buy a notebook if you can’t name exactly what you’re going to use it for! Notebook hoarding is a real problem (trust me), and much more expensive than pencil hoarding (if that’s a thing). 
  • Only invest bigger amounts of money in things that will last you a long time and that you will be using almost every day, for example a filofax agenda, a scientific calculator, or a slightly more expensive fountain pen. 
  • Bullet journal does not equal Leuchtturm1917 or Moleskine, even if it seems that way. You can make a bullet journal out of any journal you have!
  • While I think it’s important to support small businesses (if you have any independent stationery stores in your neighbourhood and you can afford it, buy stuff from them!) - if you can’t afford to spend more than absolutely necessary on stationery, then that’s the way it is. Compare prices online and in different stores, and make use of special deals (stores often have those when school starts!). 

4. Essentials & Additions

To conclude this masterpost, here’s a list of things that I’d consider essentials for a semester. Of course this may differ from person to person, and you might not need some of these things (or maybe you need additional things that are not listed here)! 

  • Writing: two pencils (mechanical or classic ones?), medium strength, + refills if you have mechanical ones/sharpener if you have normal ones; eraser, ballpoint pen and/or fountain pen (depending on what you prefer, plus ink refills for fountain pens), fineliners/gel pens and/or crayons in 3 to 5 colours, highlighters in three colours, two permanent markers (black is the safest option)
  • Paper: Notebooks (size? spiral or not? number of pages? colours for each class or one big notebook for all classes), flashcards, post-it notes in two colours, page flags
  • Equipment: calculator (how many functions?), set square, scissors, maybe glue if you’re bullet journalling, paper clips, stapler, puncher, correction fluid, sellotape, pins 
  • Organisation: folders and/or binders (colours?), dividers, labels for the folders if not provided, journal or calendar (inserts for filofax or a whole new calendar?), plastic sleeves (I’d say 10 to 20)

Possible additions that might not be necessary for you: 

  • Printer paper, printer ink, laminating sheets
  • Washi Tape, stickers, other inserts for your bullet journal/calendar
  • Laptop sleeve, additional charger, USB stick, HDMI adapter
  • Textbook sleeves, bookmarks
  • compasses, rubber bands
  • pencils in various strengths, highlighters/crayons/gel pens in various colours
  • additional inserts for your filofax (addresses, year overview, coloured paper)
  • magnets, posters, whiteboard markers
  • coloured paper/flashcards
  • non-permanent markers (e.g. for overhead projections)
  • … (can be added to!)

I hope this was helpful! If you have any more questions, feel free to ask. 

car and I brainstormed some Parks and Rec election results and scenarios to make ourselves feel better. Reblog and add with your own.

  •  Leslie offers to stop eating waffles if Hillary could win and then mutters to herself a second later “No, that’s crazy; i can’t do that. i’m sorry, Leslie.”

  • Ann running over in the early hours Wednesday morning with a full nursing bag preparing for the worst

  •  Leslie, Ben, and Ann all yell “DONALD TRUMP’S NEVER HAD A REAL JOB IN HIS LIFE” in various inflections for about twenty five minutes

  • Leslie suddenly sliding to the floor every few hours when she remembers. she wraps herself in every coat, scarf, and hat she owns and hibernates in there for a day or two

  •  Leslie tackles Jamm in the hall when she comes back to work: “you know what you did!”

  • Leslie wearing and passing out buttons with the MADD logo “The second D doesn’t stand for anything. Thats just how mad I am.”

  • Ann and Madeline Albright coaxing Leslie out of the bedroom when she’s depressed

  • Chris makes a list of all his favorite things about Hillary to read to Leslie and ends up crying halfway through. He goes on a marathon tour of the tri-state area. Which comprises traveling to participate in marathons because he just has to keep moving for a while and not stop

  • Leslie smacks her face sometimes, even years later, to see if she’s actually just maybe still asleep

  • Tom starts a new successful business called Black and Brown of the latest styles and fashions and only hires people of color

  • the thing that gets Leslie out of her funk is Ron coming over and telling her how much he hates government and how he thinks the two-party system is flawed and the electoral college is ruining the country and whats’ the point anymore. and then he shows her an I Voted sticker on which he’s written “i’m with Leslie”. Leslie starts to cry for a few minutes and then goes “but you actually voted for Hillary, right?”

  • The Pawnee Goddesses’ next four years are already booked for visiting political representatives, staging sit-ins, protests, and fundraisers. Ron always drives the bus. Andy is in charge of new recruits. Tom designs uniforms. Ann looks pretty.

  • Galentines Day becomes a movement and organization dedicated to helping women and they celebrate it every day. Waffle buttons become a symbol of the movement

  • The Parks gang runs into the entire Meagle Clan at a rally. They stand slackjawed for thirty seconds. Tom faints because Ginuwine is there

  • “PCP is going to seem like a walk in Roosevelt park compared to this.“ Leslie shows the camera a 3-inch binder labeled "LSD: Let’s Steer Democrat”

  • Andy spends a part of every Johnny Karate show educating kids about tolerance and how to be a good person

  • April is president of Galentines day and has a secret binder of her plans that she won’t ever show Leslie bc she’s pretty sure it might actually kill her

  • Andy graduates with a minor in women’s studies, goes to every protest even if he’s not always sure what’s going on. (April explains it)
    he seems like he’s only half getting it and then volunteers to speak at one protest.  the speech is one of the most relevant, aware, inspiring speeches in modern history it goes viral on buzzfeed.
    he gets invited to ellen and spends the whole time talking about finding nemo and dancing
    when asked to explain how he wrote it he says he asked himself a simple question: WWLKD

  • April runs for senate. She wins.

Literally no one asked but I was talking to @karasass about how literally No One on B99 is Straight and now I just have random headcanons that nobody wants but oh well: 

  • Jake/Amy/Rosa are all the Bi Squad, but Rosa is the only one who’s really out. 
    • By out I mean she dates girls from time to time and nobody in the Nine Nine besides Jake and Gina knew because Rosa keeps so much of her life private.
      • She definitely dated a motorcycle girl at some point in the police academy and Jake was terrified of her because hoo boy he didn’t know there was someone scarier than Rosa until he met Susan the Biker. 
    • Amy is in the process of discovering that she’s bi; she knows she’s definitely Not Straight but she wants to go through all the possible labels out there so she has like 5 different binders for each label and has done Extensive Research on everything
    • I don’t even think Jake even realizes he’s bi? Like - at least not subconsciously because let’s be real if Jake Peralta consciously knew he was bi he would be mentioning it every second of the day
      • He meets a guy on a case and is crushing really hard on him and stumbling over his words and grinning a lot and everyone is grinning because they know, and Jake absolutely slips up and says things about how handsome the guy is and Amy is chuckling because her boyfriend is adorable and doesn’t even realize he’s crushing right now. 
        • Terry: “Why are you so obsessed with him anyway?” Rosa: “Jake’s bi. Duh.” Jake: “Bi, ha Rosa you’re so funny, I’m not bi - right? I can’t be bi - I mean, maybe that would explain a lot but - *camera zooms in* oh my god I’m bi.” 
        • He literally never stops talking about it after that and will bring it up at every possible moment.
          • “That’s interesting, Captain Holt. You know what else is interesting? Bisexuals, of which I am one.” “Bye guys! Goodbye, not bi. Which I am. Did I tell you guys that I realized I’m bisexual?” “This is the 5th time you’ve done this today, Jake.”  
  •  Terry is demisexual af. 
    • He never had a partner before who he felt things for until he met Sharon - they were friends for the longest time and one day Terry realized he wanted to be more intimate with her.
      • He didn’t know if he genuinely wanted to though as he hadn’t felt this feeling before? But it was really great because Sharon was so patient with him and when he was having troubles with distinguishing what he was feeling she’d sit and talk with him and never pressured him which just increased Terry’s trust in her. 
    • When Gina and Rosa said the thing about aces Terry got irritated and held a seminar on being respectful and schooled them on asexuality and everything that fell under the a-spec umbrella. This was like, the first time he ever got an apology out of Gina. 
  • Charles is queer and he doesn’t know what his label is. 
    • He initially identifies as bi but then finds that he doesn’t think it relates to him, so he made a giant board with his research and has most definitely collaborated with Amy on the binder project; he hasn’t come across his label yet but he’s fine with not knowing yet.
  • We know that Holt is gay but he literally takes so long to realize his squad is gay as well. 
    • He knows about Jake because Jake literally announces it everywhere he goes, but there’s definitely a montage of Holt finding out about the rest of his squad and just being Shook™. 
      • “My gaydar….is abhorrent…”
      • Honestly Gina stole his gay-flag-colored binders and put them behind her desk and Holt didn’t realize until it was pointed out to him. 
  • I feel like Gina would identify as pan, but I also feel like Gina wouldn’t have or care about a specific label and rather identify as queer. 
    • “Are you bi? Pan? Poly?” 
    • “I’m Gina.” 

A thought just struck me.

Are emergency personnel like lifeguards and firefighters etc educated to know or check if a unconscious person is wearing a binder?
Do these people recognize a binder and know they should cut it apart so the person can breathe easier?

Shouldn’t binders have a label somewhere indicating this in case of emergency?

What abt someone doing cpr(or whatever it’s called like when u push on the chest to make the heart beat) and the person is wearing a binder, what risks does that have?

Camera Shy (Part 2)

Summary:  AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him. - Bughead leading to eventual smut.

Part One

Read on AO3 here

A big thank you to everyone who has liked, commented and reblogged this story so far. Your support means so much to me and I love you all so much. I hope you like this next installment.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Godamn it, you're so awesome 😊😁😍 Can you do a something about Saeran and MC is talking in their home soon the topic comes to his brother. He says something cute and nice about him without realizing it. MC teases him and Saeran becomes red like tomato. Trying to deny it. When MC asks about their relationship as brothers Saeran becomes quiet for some reason. And says something like: 'He's my brother and he always be' And our god 707 hears that. And smiles like a fool. And hugs him after... 😊😁

Thank you so much, anon! :) I…kind of got carried away with this prompt. It was really sweet, and I hope I did it justice! Thank you for sending it it~

Spoilers: Post Secret Ends

Every muscle in Saeran’s body tensed when a crash from the other side of the house shattered his precious silence. Just one morning…that’s all he wanted. One morning where he could sit on his bed in peace and quiet.

He unclenched his fists when the lulling hum of the apartment’s heating system enveloped the bunker again. Letting out a small breath, he picked up the magazine he had dropped against his chest and continued his mindless skimming.

Another crash.

Saeran threw down the magazine on the other side of the bed before marching to the source. He followed the clattering of metal to the kitchen. “I thought you were running errands. What the heck are you doing, you idi–oh.”

His brother was indeed still out of the house. Instead, Saeran was met with Saeyoung’s wide eyed fiancée. She stared at him helplessly from the floor, strands of her hair streaking down her face in its frazzled mess. She was surrounded a bunch of fallen pans from the bottom cupboard.

“Sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “I was trying to make a quiet breakfast.”

Saeran rolled his eyes and sighed. He wasn’t expecting to get much solitude in this house anyway. He crouched down and slid a few pans neatly back into place. “Saeyoung doesn’t know how to organize well,” he said as somewhat of an apology.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she grumbled. It was odd really. Even when she seemed to say things in annoyance about the older twin, there was always this tinge of admiration in her voice.

He stood and extended his hand to her. She clasped it and shot him a grateful smile as he yanked her to her feet. Resigning himself to company, he slipped into one of the island chairs. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, eyes flitting up to her.

“I came earlier this morning,” she replied, gesturing to the large binder labeled “Wedding at the Space Station.” Saeran scrunched his nose at the sickeningly sentimental title.

Still, curiousity tingled through his arms, and he found his fingers involuntarily pressing against the sharp edges. What was in this folder that got even his sleep-loving brother out of bed early in the morning lately? He dragged it across the marble countertop towards himself.

“May I?” he asked, not wanting to pry unwelcomed.

Thankfully, she didn’t question his interest. She nodded before setting to work on cutting some vegetables. He flipped open the top, eyes widening at the rainbow of colors splattered across the page. He scanned the color-coded notes, though he retained nothing but a few words. He had thrown MC into a party coordinator job nearly a year and a half ago, as part of his plan to infiltrate the RFA. He would have never guessed she was actually good at it.

Keep reading

Be My Eyes - Part II

Part I

Weeks passed and Shiro answered a handful of calls over the app, but all the people he talked to and helped were strangers. Polite and pleasant men and women, sure. Still he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment each time he accepted a call and it wasn’t Lance smiling at him from his screen.
Shiro knew it wasn’t realistic to hope he’d get connected to the handsome young man again and that he should stop his heart from skipping a beat each and every time he saw the notification pop up on his phone. Besides, he’d talked to Lance for all of five minutes maybe and this was getting pathetic, even by his standards.
But then again, could he really blame himself for a tiny crush on a pretty, bubbly boy with a nice smile? Was it that bad to hope he could talk to him again?

No. Shiro could forgive that little weakness of himself. It wasn’t like Lance, or anyone for that matter, would ever find out about it. Like there was actually a chance of them ever connecting again.
Or at least that’s what he thought until a sunny afternoon in early fall.

Shiro had just settled down for a late lunch between appointments when his phone rang. Seeing the app notification still made his heart stutter but he didn’t really expect anything special as he accepted the call with one hand, stuffing a forkful of salad into his mouth with the other.
The first thing he saw was a wide, toothy smile, tan skin, milky eyes ringed with blue.
“Hey, I’m Lance!”, came the familiar introduction and Shiro felt his stupid heartbeat pick up. God, he was beautiful. “Thanks for accepting the call, I’ll make it quick!”

“Oh, please. Take your time”, Shiro smirked and revelled in the confusion passing over Lance’s face before it lit up with recognition.
“Shiro, is that you?” That sounded way too excited for Shiro’s stupid, gay heart to handle and he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, tasting sour salad dressing. He had to look away from his phone for a moment, eyes landing on a nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair down the wide path through the hospital park.
“You remember”, he said after his short pause, having to force himself to look back at the screen, back at Lance’s unfairly happy, pretty face.

“Of course I do! You have a really nice voice.” Now it was Lance’s turn to bite his lip, a coy little gesture that made him look flirty and playful and that Shiro could not handle. At all.
And what was that about his voice? Had Lance just given him a compliment? That was not part of the plan, not part of any of the embarrassing daydreams Shiro’d had about talking to this man again. But here they were, Lance complimenting him, making him blush and fumble and almost drop his lunch.

When Shiro finally managed to find his voice again it still sounded a bit strained.
“What, uhm … what can I help you with?”
“Right…”, Lance answered, somewhat off-balance himself after the long pause. He bounced back quickly though, that smile spreading across his face. “I’m at my office and I dropped something. It’s a little red ball, fits in one hand?”
“Alright.” Shiro cleared his throat just for good measure before continuing. “Show me around.”

Lance’s office looked nice, big windows and bold, colourful paintings, shelves filled with binders and boxes labelled in both letters and braille, a small table tucked into a corner and next to it a chest overflowing with toys. Dolls and little cars and stuffed animals.
Shiro enjoyed that little peek into Lance’s life but he soon spotted the ball he was supposed to help find.
“It’s near the door to your left. Yes, that one…”
Judging by the change of the camera angle Lance had crouched down and Shiro kept giving instructions until long, elegant fingers brushed the little ball and picked it up.

“Ah, there you are”, Lance mumbled as he straightened up again, walking over to the chest to put the ball inside and lower the lid. It barely closed.
“Thanks. Don’t want anyone to trip and fall on that…”
“No, we don’t.”
There was a short, awkward pause and Shiro knew it was time to hang up. He’d done his job, he should say goodbye and go back to lunch. But he didn’t want to.

“So, that’s a lot of toys”, he said instead, putting a smile into the words. “For your children?” A second of silence and then Lance laughed, a soft, carefree sound that made Shiro’s heart stutter yet again.
“For my … oh god, no.” Another laugh. The camera turned around and Shiro could see the dimples on Lance’s cheeks, the tiny wrinkles around his eyes. His phone had a great camera. “No, I don’t have children. I work with them though, I’m a speech therapist.”
A surprised sound escaped Shiro. He hadn’t really thought about what Lance’s job might be but that sure wasn’t anything he’d ever considered.
“That’s impressive!”, he said and realized a second later what that must have sounded like to Lance. “Sorry…”

Lance chuckled, cheeks dimpling.
“Ah, it’s fine. A lot of people didn’t think I could do it. But … I’m good with kids and I hear pretty well when they fudge up their syllables so…”
“I … I believe that! Sounds like a real interesting field.”
Lance hummed his agreement with a soft, proud smile playing around his lips.

“So what do you do?”, he asked after another pause and the simple question, probably just a polite gesture, lit a spark of excitement in Shiro’s chest. Maybe Lance didn’t want to end the call either?
“I’m an occupational therapist.”
“Ohhh!” Lance grinned wide and waved a hand in front of the camera. “Same industry! You also work with kids?”
With a long-suffering, internal sigh Shiro noted the flips his heart did at the sheer amount of cuteness the other man radiated.

“Mostly adults, I’m not that great with children…”
“Ah, that’s okay”, Lance shrugged, a crooked smirk on his lips. “Not everyone can be as amazing as I am.”
Before Shiro could answer there was a buzzing sound on Lance’s end of the connection and then a voice said: “Lance, your 3pm is here.”
“Oh shoot! Sorry Shiro, I gotta go. Thanks again for the help!”
Shiro couldn’t even answer, let alone carry out his underdone plan to ask Lance for his number or something similar because the next moment Lance had already hung up on him.

Part III

[This story is a commission! If you enjoyed it consider buying me a coffee or check out how to commission me!]

Back to School (sorry for long post)

Hey little ones! I know how stressful school can be and how much anxiety it can cause in just a short time. I constructed this long post to help you guys out. Feel free to add to this as well.

Stay Organized

I know this is a really hard one to actually accomplish and keep going for the entire year, but trust me when I say it helps out a lot with stress. If you stay organized you’re a lot less likely to misplace important papers, materials, and anything else.

Ways to stay organized

·         A large reusable calendar

Write important test dates, doctors’ appointments, and any other important dates on here and hang it somewhere you look every day.

a)      Have Specific days for laundry and quick pick-ups it helps a lot as well.

·         Print off a daily checklist (make the copies front to back if possible)

This is to help you keep track of what you have to do and what you have done. Include everyday things and your morning routine so you don’t forget.

·         Binders and folders

Make sure you have a binder or folder for each of your classes (if you have like 7 classes use folders for the ones that don’t require binders, or get a 2inch binder and split it between two classes) make sure each binder/folder is a different color (and label them) I cannot stress how much color coding is important.

a)      Dividers: now I don’t mean the flimsy paper ones, get the flimsy plastic ones with pockets if you can. (the colors on these don’t matter) Label one of them Note, the next one Tests and Guides, and the last one Work sheets. Get enough for each binder/folder.

·         Color coding

I feel like personally this one will make or break you.

a)      Assign colors to each of your classes.

Red: Math

Orange: Language Arts (reading or writing)

Yellow: history (civics, social studies)

Green: Science

Blue: Electives (foreign language, health)

b)     Get index cards/Sticky notes in those colors

When studying for that class (which you really do need to do) use the index cards/sticky notes with the corresponding color of that class.

c)      Highlighters: highlight different information in different colors.

Facts: Blue

Numbers, Dates, Statsitcs: Green

Opinions: Yellow

Key Vocab: Pink

Unknown words: Orange

*It really helps to have a key that is the same throughout the year.

·         Labels and Titles

a)      Title your notes with the class, dates, and topic.

b)     Label your binders/folders for what class they are

c)      Label your notebooks for the subject

d)     Write your name on important things.

Do your homework

Homework is really important especially once you get to high-school. With a lot of teachers it will kill your grade if you don’t do it. I know that sometimes it will feel like you’re overworked but don’t be afraid to ask for help. (I am more than willing to help out with homework on my free time, just send me a message.)

a)      Seriously as soon as you get home do your homework even if you don’t want to.

b)     Don’t overwork yourself, take breaks and reward yourself.

Fun tips:

1.)     If you have to write an essay, read some chapters in a book, do an assignment that involves answering questions, do math homework, science homework, etc.

Complete 5 problems, Read one chapter, answer five questions, etc. Then color part of a picture. (Yes you might have to work on the homework a bit longer, but then you get to de-stress)

2.)    If your teachers allow you to eat in class, bring small, non-messy foods like fruit snacks, fruits, gushers, teddy grahams, etc.

3.)    Carry snacks in your bag.

4.)   Carry a small stuffie in your bag (key chain version), helps with anxiety as well.

5.)    You can never have too many pencils.

6.)   Carry deodorant, body spray, and chap-stick as well.

I was scared too. What I will tell you, at the welcoming pep rally (if you have one) if they tell you to show spirit and scream, show spirit and scream.

Find out what your teachers are into and befriend them make sure to be on their good side even if you hate them. Greet them at the door or at their desk or where ever when you walk in the classroom, and tell them to have a good day when you leave. Ask them if they need anything before you sit down and they should warm up to you. Most of the time, if you do that they won’t call on you much. Take notes in class and keep it organized. (Seriously notes are important) If there’s no assigned seating it in the middle of the class.

Walk confidently in the halls but not like you own the place. If you keep your head down they’ll single you out and if you walk like you own the place they’ll try to beat you down. Be polite to everyone you run into the first and second time. If they’re rude both times then you have the right to snap back but the first time they might have had a bad day.

To help with anxiety chewing gum helps (I know it’s not allowed but have like juicy fruit or something that’s not strong smelling and don’t make it obvious)

Bullying is only an issue if you piss someone off most of the time. Make as many upperclassmen friends as you can. If you ride the bus that’s your time. Listen to what they talk about and if they like it then casually bring it up and they should like you.

Definitely, definitely get involved. Seriously it’s important. Join a club. At least one, if you can’t than join a sport but only if you like them.

Befriend the administration and the people in guidance. Don’t be afraid of the guidance counselor they are your friend.

If you get bullied I will fight them. Just give me a name and I’ll destroy them.

Please take care little ones! I love you all and I hope you find this useful. (I apologize for the length)

You bet your fucking buttons that Falcs TV does a special video on Jack at home called “Bachelor of Arts”. 

After a montage about his hockey prowess we see Jack in his apartment kitchen. He’s fresh out of his morning shower, rolling out pie dough on his kitchen counter, ladling beef stew from his crockpot into pot pie shells. “I learned to make pastry for a class in my senior year,” he explains, sucking gravy off his thumb with a boyish grin. “Now I make it all the time. I’ll freeze these for the week ahead.”

(Then he cuts little hockey sticks out of the pastry scraps and presses them on top of the pies, looking inordinately pleased with his little bit of decoration. Did we mention his shirtsleeves are rolled up to bare his forearms?)

His back muscles flex as he pulls binder labelled SAMWELL 13-14 off one of his library shelves and flips through the tabbed assortment of notes and assignments. “I worked really hard for this A-,” he says, his fingers hovering over the mark written on the essay’s cover page. The typewritten title says Development of the Metric System in Early Modern France, Jack L. Zimmermann, HIST 247: The Industrial Revolution in Europe, and the professor’s scribbled comments begin Good analysis of the standardization of before wandering out of the camera’s frame.

“This is a Halifax Bomber,” he says, holding a model plane up to give a good look at the markings on the fuselage. The camera shifts focus from the airplane to show how his chiseled jaw is very faintly stubbled and he smiles a little sheepishly at his own enthusiasm. “I painted this with the markings from RCAF 408 Squadron, but there’s nothing to uh, really tell you that it’s a Canadian plane, not until after the Second World War, but there’s historical reasons we weren’t really, um, differentiated, as a really distinct military force then. But I know what it is.”

His blue eyes light with fondness when he looks at the pictures on the walls of his apartment. “The house I lived in, you could open my window and climb out onto the roof and just sit there. We called it the Samwell Men’s Hockey Reading Room. I spent a lot of time out there with Bittle and, uh, Knight.” He gestures to the two figures in the professionally-mounted photograph–one talking and gesturing with his hands, another leaning forward to listen, haloed by the setting sun. “I took this picture so when I walk by it I remember and I can feel like I’m still there with them.”

The person behind the camera asks, “What kind of thing would you talk about?”

“Oh, everything,” Jack reminisces. “Politics, feminism, hockey. Expectations you grow up with. What we wanted to do for the future.”

Jack reaches out to gently touch another photograph in a frame, an empty rink with the sun rising through the enormous windows at its far end. “You still visit them?” the other person asks.

“Oh, all the time,” he says.  In the library there’s a printout of the Samwell 2015-16 game schedule pinned to a corkboard, the home opener circled with pen.  There’s a small framed portrait of Bob and Alicia with a dog, a flyer for an upcoming history conference. Jack is in a Samwell hoodie in his living room, bouncing a puck off a hockey stick. “I feel like there’s still a lot to learn.” 

Dream Morning with Wonwoo

Originally posted by dinochans

  • Mornings will result with you falling asleep reading a book in your hammock in the living room meanwhile
  • Wonwoo is in the bed you both share
  • eyesight blurry
  • his voice is super husky 
  • as he asks himself where you went so early in the morning but
  • he shrugs it off as he sits up and puts on his glasses and slips on his slipperes
  • and makes his way to the bathroom to freshen up and head to the kitchen to either eat or make breakfast
  • while he brushes his teeth he looks around the bathroom and smiles to himself because everything in there came in a set of 2
  • one for you
  • one for him
  • and it always gave him a fuzzy feeling inside because this is like his dream come true
  • anyways,
  • he makes his way into the kitchen to find out that you weren’t there either and decides to make breakfast for you both because he thought you left for a morning run or coffee with the girls
  • as he’s getting the coffee dripping and the stove on low heat he started to hear small soft snores coming from the living room
  • as he puts down all the things that he gathered from the pantry and fridge onto the counter
  • and makes his way over to swaying hammock
  • peers in and smiles to himself as well as saying,
  • “there you are”
  • very very very softly
  • as he pats your head and takes the book from your slow rising chest 
  • and he makes his way back into the kitchen and starts flipping through the binder labeled
  • because you guys stole it when mingyu and his girlfriend were out promoting and he never noticed,
  • or so you thought because mingyu is just gonna steal the cases that’s labeled,
  • anyways,
  • he lands on the recipe and starts to crack the eggs into the heart shaped silicon egg mold on the hot pan 
  • and starts to cook an american styled breakfast when all of a sudden he feels a pair of arms around his torso 
  • he smiles and immediately looks back to kiss your head and 
  • you start to take in his scent and smile as well when you feel his lips on your hair saying,
  • “This is a dream” 
  • and you reply,
  • “a good dream”
  • “a dreamy dream dream dream”
  • you just hold him tighter

25 jan 16’back 2 school advice

hiiiiiii it’s jess, and this is my first masterpost/advice post!! since i’m going back to school and starting 10th grade (sophomore year??) very soon, i have decided to share some of my tips + advice for the new school year :]


p.s; in australia, high school is from grade 7-12.

001; be nice  —

  • omg be a nice person please!! treat others like how you would want to be.
  • smile @ students/teachers when you see them, even if you don’t know them & who cares if they don’t smile back??
  • popularity doesn’t matter. popularity doesn’t matter.
  • i know it can be a bit daunting, but talk to people and be genuine !!!

002; organisation —

  • stay organised so you can meet your deadlines and remember important events!! 
  • use a binder and label different sections with tabs
  • invest on a planner, start a bullet journal, download an app or use a calendar or even printables!! trust me, any of these will make your life so much easier!
  • make sure you have spare pens/pencils !!!
  • clean out folders once a month
  • make to do or assignments list
  • make sure you always have a clean study space

003; change your mindset —

  • changing your perspective on things can make a huge difference
  • change your study habits and see how you can improve in different things, because there is always room for improvement!!

004; set goals —

  • setting goals gives you long term vision and short term motivation
  • goals are the fuel that will drive you forward 
  • if you want something, don’t just wait for it. go out and make a change
  • if you want to get an A? thEN GET AN A!! WORK HARD & PROVE OTHERS WRONG.
  • reward achievements !

005; friendships —

  • trust me when i say this, your friend group from the first year of hs will change. you will learn who your true friends are throughout the years.
  • let go of toxic people!! they will only make you feel bad about yourself 
  • be friends with people who support & care about you; choose wisely.

006; get involved —

  • join clubs or your school sports team!! you can meet new people and spend time with them, doing what you love!
  • you will meet a diverse group of people
  • extra curricular activities look good on your resume
  • go to school sport games and have fun w friends!!

007; homework —

  • do it asap !!! 
  • don’t procrastinate, the longer you put off work, the harder it will get
  • procrastination leads you to rush tasks, so you’ll have less time to do it and it might not be to the best of your ability

008; teachers + classes —

  • please respect + be nice to your teachers !!!
  • if you don’t understand something, ask them
  • don’t be afraid to ask!! its their job to teach you
  • be punctual!
  • be an active student! participate in class discussions- ask or answer questions

009; exams / studying —

  • stay disciplined.
  • review and revise.
  • use different study methods e.g. practice tests, flash cards, mind maps
  • take breaks, stay hydrated and have small snacks!!
  • over learn the material !! never underestimate a test
  • once you’ve finished exams, treat yo self!!! maybe buy cute lil stationery that you’ve had your eye on
  • be gentle with yourself, don’t get to stressed and don’t overload yourself w work
  • choose a working environment that is tidy and quiet. make sure you have no distractions!
  • hard work pays off!!!!

010; GOOD LUCK !!!

i really hope you guys enjoy this! feel free to message me or request anything here, i love u all 💖✨

Correct {Luke Hemmings Smut}

RATING: Uh…smut?

I got pretty good feedback from my Ashton one, so here’s another…also, I decided that I’ll be accepting requests for smuts, fluffs and blurbs now :)


Your left foot rubbed up against your right leg as you sat at one of the many tables in the library, waiting and looking around nervously. Around you, a few students shuffled quietly, and the librarian, Ms. Rogers, sat at her desk, typing away on her computer.

You hadn’t meant to almost fail your math test. It had simply happened. You hadn’t been doing too hot before your test on cubic relations, but your mark on it had been the cherry on top. Your parents had called the school and set up appointments with the free tutoring program that was offered.

You were to meet with this tutor three times a week until the end of the school year, and hopefully it would be enough to pull up your grades…in math, at least.

You looked down at your jeans and plain white t-shirt before sighing, figuring that your tutor had ditched you. Deciding that it was pointless to stay and try to teach yourself the millions of equations and concepts, you zipped up your backpack and stood.

You picked up your binder, which was labelled with “Math” in squiggly, artistic cursive. Clutching the binder to your chest, you swung your bag over your left shoulder, walking to the doors of the library.

You pushed open the doors with a little more force than necessary, peeved that you had wasted your time and had actually believed that you could ever ameliorate in math.

But halfway through, you felt the doors hit something–hard. There was a muffled, “Oof!” from the outside of the library, and your eyes widened. You quickly slid through the small opening of the door and stared at the person you’d hit in shock and embarrassment.

“Crap,” you apologized, “I’m so sorry.”

It was then you realized who exactly you’d bumped into.

What was normally a very tall frame slouched slightly, his hand cradling his left shoulder. He wore a plain black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and black Converse. A silver dog chain hung from his neck, there were multiple rings on his fingers; and rubber bands and woven bracelets adorning his wrists.

He finally stood up straight, towering over you, and you stared up at him shamelessly, your cheeks burning.

Your eyes met crystal blue orbs, calculating and logical yet soft at the same time. His nose was slightly upturned, and his lips were the most luscious shade of pink, a small, dark lip ring tainting them. His hair was styled upwards and added about three inches to his already gigantic figure.

Of fucking course. You’d just had to injure Luke Hemmings, the star musician and heartthrob of your school.

You continued to stare up at him, and he glanced down at you. Quickly realizing that you must’ve looked like an idiot, you stared down at your shoes, mumbling, “Sorry.”

“No worries,” his Australian accent was prominent. You’d heard girls talking about how attractive it sounded and begrudgingly, you had to agree.

Luke scanned you over quickly, his electric eyes settling on the label of your mathematics binder. His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Is your name Y/N?”

Your face snapped up to look at him. Your left hand fiddled with the hem of your white top, and you bit your lip, praying that this wasn’t what you thought it was.

“Yes, why?”

“I’m Luke,” he said earnestly, holding out his hand and giving you a tiny smile. Rather than shaking his hand like a normal person, you blurted, “I know.”

You mentally face-palmed. Could you be any more pathetic?

Luke chuckled lightly. It was a cute sound, and he made you nervous. It wasn’t because you were attracted to him, because you weren’t…kind of. It was because this was the boy who had the entire student body and even some of the teachers wrapped around his finger. And here he was, conversing with you, a nobody.

“I think I’m your tutor,” Luke admitted, “I’m sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine,” you waved off his apology, wanting the awkward phase to be over already. Luke looked around and then gestured to the library doors, “Shall we go in?”

You shot a look over your shoulder and nodded, swallowing heavily, “Uh yeah. Sorry again about hitting you.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled lightly, walking past you and pulling open the doors with his right hand, “I can be a klutz sometimes.”

He wasn’t blaming you or cussing at you like the majority of the boys in your grade? Well then, you supposed this was a bonus. Luke was a nice guy.

“You look familiar,” he stated as he walked over to the table you’d been sitting at previously, you following him like a lost puppy. He plopped down onto his chair and you slid yours out slowly, sitting across from him and eyeing him carefully.

“Where do I know you from?” He wondered.

“We’re in the same AP English class,” you said quickly. Immediately you winced at how needy and desperate you sounded.

But Luke Hemmings took no notice. Instead he grinned and snapped his fingers, pointing at you with a knowing smirk, “That’s right! You’re the girl who sits at the front and answers all of the questions!”

Okay. Scratch the nice guy thing.

Your cheeks flamed as the most popular boy in school teased you about being a know-it-all in the only class you really loved. You stared down at the wooden table and tried in vain to hide your face.

“Oh no,” Luke said quickly, sitting up straight, “Not in a bad way. The stuff you say is actually really analytical and deep. You raise the bar for everyone in that class.”

You looked up at him, only to find that he was chewing on his lip ring nervously and that this time, his cheeks were painted red. You couldn’t help but to smile lightly, “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke returned your smile before clapping his hands, “Alright, let’s get to math.”

And so you began.


But that had been six weeks ago. You were now well into April and your trigonometry unit of math. You and Luke had become friends, but you still didn’t feel completely comfortable around him, scared that he’d morph into an asshole like the rest of the popular guys in your grade. Luke was Luke, and you were a nobody.

But when it was just you two, whether he came by your house or you both studied in the library, he was the sweetest thing ever. And you found yourself growing attracted the the tall boy with a lip piercing.

And that was bad. Because you knew that he’d never be attracted to you.


“No fucking way,” you whispered, walking out of your math class, your eyes trained on your test.

The bright red 86% flashed at you like a neon sign, and you clutched the paper to your chest, weaving in and out of crowds of students. The day was over, and there were people chatting at each other’s lockers, freshmen looking intimidated by your fellow seniors, and douchebags kicking a soccer ball around the hall while blasting Jay-Z.

You finally made your way over to your locker before noticing that only a few compartments away stood Luke and his friends. There were three of them, and they were all in the same band. Luke had made you a few mix tapes featuring their own original songs, and they were pretty good.

You glanced at them quickly, but it was long enough to see the boy with dark hair smirk in your direction and nudge Luke with his elbow. Luke turned towards you, but you quickly looked down, your face heating up. You fumbled with your lock, trying to calm your shaky fingers so that you could spin the code into place.

The shouts and jeers of students drowned out everything. You sighed, used to this already. There were lockers slamming shut, girls speaking obnoxiously, guys hollering insults at each other from opposite ends of the hall. Your typical high school, and you couldn’t wait to be off to university in the fall.

“Hey Shorty,” someone suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked to your right, only to find Luke leaning against the lockers and looking at you intently, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

He wore a pair of ripped black jeans and a white shirt with red stars on the cuffs of his short sleeves. His black Vans shuffled awkwardly, something you noticed he did a lot. His hair was concealed by a maroon SnapBack and his teeth were fiddling with his lip ring as he scanned you over.

“Shorty?” You questioned, rummaging in your locker and not wanting to be seen talking to him. The last thing you needed was rumours flapping around about how you were fucking Luke Hemmings.

Peering past him, you saw his three best friends turn around the corner, and wondered if he’d actually asked them to leave you two alone. But then you shook your head; that was a stupid assumption.

“Whatcha got there?” Luke’s eyebrows rose as he nodded his head towards the test that was still clutched in your hand.

You shook you head again, “Nothing.”

He just laughed and before you knew it, he’d snatched the paper from your grip. “Luke!” You exclaimed, looking at him in disbelief.

“Give it back!” You said, but he just held the paper above his head, making you jump for it. He laughed again as your outstretched arm always fell short, your fingertips only reaching his wrist.

“Luke!” You groaned, aggravated. He giggled, “Oh, calm down. Just let me see–”

His eyes widened as he cut himself off. He stared at your paper, his eyes skimming over your mark repeatedly. He flipped the test over, his eyes running down the expanse or your paper, seeming to grow wider with each word that he took in.

“An eighty-six?” He breathed in disbelief. You chewed on your bottom lip, “Yeah.”

“Almost everything’s correct,” Luke breathed. Things were silent between the two of you when suddenly…

“That’s fucking awesome!” He exclaimed, and he held out his arms, wrapping them around your waist and picking you up. He crushed you in a hug, twirling you around once. When he set you back down, you stumbled back a few steps, laughing lightly.

A few girls passing by shot you guys weird looks, all of them looking at you as though you weren’t worth their time.

Yeah, they were jealous. But it still stung.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, closing up again and ducking your head. You reached out for the paper in Luke’s hand but he was quick to pull it away.

“Luke, pass it,” you sighed, lifting your face to look up at him. His playful eyes were now stern, almost disapproving of you, “I saw that Y/N.”

“Saw what?” You played dumb. He cocked an eyebrow as if to ask ‘seriously?’. You just shrugged, brushing him off and encouraging him to do the same.

“Why are you so worried about what other people think?” Luke questioned you, deciding not to let it go. You shrugged again, “Its hereditary?” You tried joking, but Luke just looked at you blankly.

“Stop it,” you stated, and he sighed, leaving the issue alone for now. He smiled again at you, “Well, I say we go out for dinner to celebrate your mark.”

“What?” You reacted quickly almost dropping the science textbook you held in your hand. Luke grinned cheekily, “Great! I’ll pick you up at six.”

He shot you a wink and then turned around, disappearing into the sea of students and leaving you a bumbling, torn up mess.


“He’s here!” Your mother practically danced over the the door, wringing her hands in delight at the fact that you had a “date”.

“Mom, please,” you begged, “He’s not my date, he’s my freaking tutor. We aren’t going on a date, we’re just celebrating my mark.”

“He likes you,” your mother sang as she grasped the doorknob.

“Stop it!” You cried, and she froze, looking at you. You held out your hands, “Let me answer it.”

“Fine,” she sighed and moved out of your way. You gripped the doorknob before twisting it and swinging the door open, only to reveal Luke.

He looked really good. His hair was styled into a tall quiff like when you’d met for the first time. He still wore his signature black skinny jeans and black Converse, but this time, he’d taken the time to change up his shirt. A black button-up now adorned his torso, framed by a black blazer. He’d taken his lip ring out for the occasion, which you were grateful for. You had no idea how your parents would’ve reacted to it.

“Holy sh–,” Luke suddenly caught sight of your mother standing behind you and backtracked quickly, “–shorts.”

You and your mother both giggled like schoolgirls, and you looked down, blushing fiercely. You wore a cute white sundress and black flats, and you’d let your hair fall down in it’s free state tonight, not bothering to do anything with it. Your mother had done your makeup, thin eyeliner and mascara, respecting your wishes of not going all out.

And Luke was looking at you like he wanted to ravish you.

“Hi!” Your mother was far too confident, and you cringed as she enthusiastically introduced herself to your tutor. Luke was going to run for the hills.

But to your surprise, he merely smiled warmly at her and shook her hand, “Hello Mrs. Y/L/N. My name is Luke.”

“Luke!” Your mother grinned at him, “Lovely!”

You quickly took the lead, “Okay, we should really get going. Mom, I’ll see you later. Come on Luke.” You mumbled the last part to him as you stepped outside, brushing past him and smelling the wonderful cinnamon scent of the cologne he’d applied. It took all of your willpower to continue on and not stop in your tracks, inhaling deeply and burying your face into his chest.

“I won’t wait up!” Your mother called out to you as Luke quickly scampered over to the other side of his black vehicle, opening the door for you.

Oh my God,” you muttered, face-palming as soon as you slid into the sleek leather seating. You heard Luke chuckle.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized earnestly, burying you face in your hands as Luke slid into the driver’s side of his car. He laughed, sticking his key into the ignition and revving the engine of his sleek black automobile.

“It’s fine Y/N, seriously.”

“No it’s not,” you groaned, “She thinks this is a date no matter how often I tell her it isn’t.”

“Oh,” Luke said blankly, quieting down. You looked at him, worried that you’d suddenly made things awkward. You studied his side profile, in awe of the perfection of his face.

His hands were on the wheel, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his blazer, making him seem eight thousand percent hotter. His jawline was so sharp it could slice through steel, a shadow of stubble tinting the underside. His lips were full and pink, and you had the most perfect view of his cute little nose.

“You know,” Luke mused, “It’s rude to stare.”

You looked away quickly, blushing ferociously and muttering, “Sorry.”

He laughed, momentarily pulling his right hand from the wheel to run his fingers through his quiffed blonde hair, “I’m just playing. I appreciate your honesty though. Most girls would just scoff and be like ‘I wasn’t staring’.”

“'Scoff’?” You cocked an eyebrow, “Nice word use.”

“Thank you,” Luke smiled proudly, nodding in your direction, “I got it from you. Remember in junior year we read ‘The Great Gatsby’? You went on a long rant to prove how Gatsby was just a victim of love and lust and how that can drive people to do things they wouldn’t normally do.”

“I remember that,” you said slowly, “Were you in my AP English class last year?”

“We’ve been in English class together every year,” Luke explained, and he suddenly cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “Whoa, that sounded really creepy.”

You laughed, throwing your head back onto the headrest of the seat. Luke chuckled along bashfully with you. You ran a hand through your hair, tousling it a bit.

“You’re not at all what I expected, Luke Hemmings,” you noted with a surge of confidence.

Luke looked over at you, “Really? How so?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, looking out his car window and seeing bright signs of stores and restaurants racing by your window, “I just didn’t expect you to be so nice.”

“Are you serious?” Luke sounded genuinely shocked.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, laughing, “I expected some douchebag who didn’t know anything and who only cared about his next fuck. But instead I got a boy that I can actually carry out an intellectual conversation with and who makes me mix tapes and who’s nice.”

You smiled at him and he bit his lip to keep from doing the same, “Pretty bold words, Y/N. I don’t usually hear you talk like that.”

“I’m warming up to you,” you shrugged, and you both giggled.

“You forgot one thing,” Luke said, turning into a parking lot, “You also got a boy with a good taste in food.”


You and Luke tumbled through the threshold of his house, laughing wildly.

“He did not!” Luke had gasped as you told the story of your drunken uncle at Christmas dinner. You both broke off into another fit of laughter, removing your shoes.

“Where’s your mom?” You asked, looking around and expecting to see Liz pop her head out from around the corner; when Luke had brought you over once before, she’d been the sweetest thing and had never failed to embarrass her son. It had been endearing to see him just as flustered as you always were.

“My parents are actually on vacation right now,” Luke explained, smirking, “Don’t tell my dad I borrowed his car to take you out, he’ll kill me.”

You mimed sealing your mouth and handing him the key, which he pretended to throw away. You shook your head at his goofiness, playing with the hem of your dress. For a moment, there was silence, until Luke broke it.

“Do you want to wear something of mine?” He asked, “Not that your dress isn’t gorgeous, because it is, but it looks kind of uncomfortable.“

You smiled fondly at him, “That would be amazing, thanks.”

Luke nodded and walked past you to the staircase of his house. Quickly he darted up the steps, indicating for you to follow, which you did. You raced upstairs and followed him down the hall. His door was at the very end of the corridor, straight ahead.

“Wow,” you marvelled, “I like it.”

His walls were blue from what you could see, which wasn’t a lot. Band posters were plastered everywhere, concealing almost every single inch. You noticed bands like All Time Low, Blink-182, My Chemical Romance and Green Day.

His bed and furniture were simple; plain white, a nice and spacey double mattress. He had a white bedside table and a large dresser across the room. Lined up beside his dresser on the far wall was a collection of about five guitars: three electrics and two acoustics.

“Cool,” you breathed, walking over to the instruments. When you got close enough, you called over your shoulder, “May I?”

“‘Course,” Luke chuckled, approaching you. Rather than looking at his instruments, however, he focussed on the dresser next to them, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and two baggy shirts, one a t-shirt, the other a tank.

“Which one do you want?” He asked. You looked at him and cocked an eyebrow teasingly, “Are you offering me a shirt or a guitar, Luke Hemmings?”

“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically before just tossing you the black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, “You change here. I’ll be in the washroom.”

You merely hummed in response, in awe at his sleek electric guitars. One was black and white, the other completely black except for a bright red ‘X’, and the last a bright, zeal turquoise, almost a teal. His acoustics were beige, polished nicely and shining in the dim light of his bedroom.

You quickly slid out of your dress, deciding to leave your bra on. You pulled on his t-shirt, which reached mid-thigh. The sweatpants were even worse. They were long and very baggy, and you had to pull on the drawstring and knot it tightly to keep the material seated on your hips.

“You decent?” Luke shouted at you through his door. You let out a small giggle, tying up your hair into a bun, and called back, “What if I’m not?”

“I’m assuming that was a joke so I’m coming in,” Luke stated, and the doorknob twisted as the door swung open. You smiled at him.

“You were correct, Luke Hemmings.”

“I know,” he smiled smugly and you just rolled your eyes.

You turned your attention back to his range of guitars, your right hand reaching out to run your fingers long the shiny surface of one of his beige acoustic guitars.

“They’re really nice,” you admitted, in awe of the sleek instruments. You’d always wanted to learn how to play an instrument, but you’d never actually acted on the desire. And now here you were in a musically talented boy’s room, ogling his guitars as if they were shirtless men.

“Thanks,” Luke seemed to be amused at your fascination. He suddenly cleared his throat and lifted his left hand to scratch his head sheepishly, “Want me to play you something?”

You looked at him in surprise. He looked amazing in his plain white tank top and sweatpants, identical to yours. His shirt hung loosely on his frame, but by what you could see of his unconsciously flexed biceps as he rubbed the back of his neck, he was by no means scrawny. Rather, he was lanky, yet you didn’t doubt his strength.

His blue eyes regarded you cautiously, and your gaze fell to his lips. He was missing the lip ring, but you didn’t mind it; he looked just as good without it. On cue, his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and you practically swooned, growing more and more drawn to this boy by the second.

“Are you serious?” You asked, and then you shook your head; if he hadn’t been serious he wouldn’t have asked.

Luke laughed and reached past you, gripping the neck of the acoustic guitar you’d been fondling and lifting it from the rack.

“Don’t laugh at me, ‘kay?” He asked, and you smiled. He walked over to his bed and you followed him, both of you sitting down on the soft duvet.

“I won’t,” you assured him, smiling gently and practically bouncing with excitement.

Luke gripped the neck of his instrument and set it down in his lap. One of his legs hung off the bed, the other tucked underneath him. He ran his right hand through his hair and you cocked an eyebrow playfully at how flustered he seemed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. He looked at you, “I don’t usually play alone for people. It’s always the lads and I.”

“It’s just me,” you assured him, smiling softly.

“Exactly,” he let out a breath, “And if you haven’t noticed Y/N, you’re pretty fucking amazing.”

Your cheeked flushed crimson as you looked away, laughing to cover up your potent embarrassment, “You’re trying to stall.”

“You’re correct,” he grinned. He cleared his throat, “This is something Ashton and I wrote. I was going to put it on a mix tape for you but then–”

“Luke,” you giggled, “Just play me the song.”

“So demanding,” he noted playfully before finally getting the hint. He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a small dark guitar pick before steadying the instrument on his lap and beginning to strum a tune.

You nodded your head along with the sweet melody. It was nice.

Luke cleared his throat and opened his mouth, and you almost did a double take. Even though he was famous at school for his angelic voice, you’d never actually heard him sing.

“Life’s, a tangled web,

Of cellphone calls and hashtag I-don’t-knows.

And you, you’re so caught up,

In all the blinking lights and dial tones.”

You were in awe. He was seventeen years old, but Luke Hemmings had the voice of a thirty-year-old. It was so deep and rich, filled to the brim with feeling and emotion; you were caught.

“And I know I’ve been a victim of the worldwide system too,

But I found my sweet escape when I’m alone with you.

So turn off the static sounds of the city that never sleeps,

Here in the moment on the dark side of the screen.”

Luke made an exaggerated gesture with his hands as he strummed–no doubt to lighten the mood–and you smiled dreamily at him. He broke off into the chorus.

“I like the summer rain, I like the sounds you make.

We put the world away, we get so disconnected,

You are my getaway, you are my favourite place.

We put the world away, we get so disconnected.”

Luke played a few more chords, his fingers flitting across his guitar before finishing with a final flourish. He looked up at you, chewing on his lip nervously. Your lips were parted.

“You need to sing for me more often,” was all you breathed, and he laughed, a faint pink blush tinting his magnificent cheeks.

“That’s all we’ve got right now,” he admitted, “Did you like it?”

“It was incredible!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. Luke laughed loudly at your childish tone and you just smiled, happy that you could make him happy.

“Do you think you can teach me?” You asked suddenly. Luke’s eyebrows arched, “Really? Sure.”

“Thank you,” you grinned at him as he took his guitar off his lap and handed it to you.

You positioned it in your own lap, crossing your legs and using your thighs as a pedestal. Luke shifted a bit closer so that now he was sitting directly in front of you. You looked up at him, shocked at the proximity of your bodies. He caught your gaze and cocked an eyebrow and you looked back down, blushing madly.

“Okay,” Luke began, grabbing your fingers. He set them on the neck of the guitar, positioning each one individually. He then grabbed your other hand and brought it to the strings of his guitar. Your cheeks were on fire.

“So this is called a C chord,” Luke cleared his throat awkwardly as he gripped your fingers, transferring the pick into your hand. Using his fingers, he struck a string, emitting a moderate sound. You nodded.

“Okay,” you said slowly, attempting to pluck at the chord yourself. You were grateful for the dimly lit atmosphere, not wanting him to see your pink face.

“And, er,” Luke hesitated, looking uneasy, “This is a G.”

Another twinge. You kept still; your knees were brushing Luke’s, and he was so close that you could smell the scent of his cinnamon cologne, the smell invading your nostrils and putting your entire being at ease.

“Sorry,” Luke apologized, looking at you sheepishly, “I’m not used to playing this way, obviously. It’s kind of confusing.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, smiling lightly. You pulled the guitar off your lap and set it down on the bedding beside you, “Maybe some other time.”

Okay, so maybe you were slightly disappointed.

“What?” Luke blurted, looking at you incredulously. You glanced at him, standing up off his bed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Luke fiddled with his fingers, “Just…don’t let this be awkward.”

“Luke, what on earth are you–?” You began, but you cut yourself off sharply as Luke’s hand wrapped around your waist. He pulled you down towards him, and with a shriek you fell squarely into his lap.

“Oh my God,” you laughed lightly, and Luke chuckled along with you, seeming relieved that you hadn’t cussed him out.

“Just stay there,” Luke giggled, reaching for his guitar on the bed. Smooth fingers wrapped around the neck of the instrument and he quickly pulled it towards him. You, in the meantime, placed your hands on his knees and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, getting comfortable in his lap.

He groaned when you did. Immediately, your face peered over you shoulder inquisitively. You blushed, “I’m heavy, aren’t I?”

“No, no,” he said hastily, shaking his head, “The guitar is.”

He smiled, but you could tell he was lying. You shifted around a bit more and your eyes widened once you felt something hard poking into your back.

Oh God. You couldn’t believe it

Had you given Luke Hemmings a fucking boner?

“Um,” Luke cleared his throat, sounding constricted, “Okay, so…”

He snaked his arms over your, wrapping you in some sort of protective embrace. It took all of your willpower to not lean back into his strong and firm chest. His body was so broad, and you found it so attractive.

“As I was saying,” Luke breathed quietly. You could feel his chest rising and falling with breaths, could feel his words puffing out onto your shoulder, “This is a C chord.”

He struck the chord and it echoed out into the quiet house. You nodded, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you felt Luke lean in a bit closer to reach the far end of the neck of his guitar.

“So if you play a C, followed by a G,” Luke played the short sequence, “You get that.”

“Okay,” you nodded, and you boldly tried to mimic his actions. Immediately you cringed. The sound was high-strung and squeaky, and you shrunk back unconsciously into Luke’s front.

“Ugh,” you shivered at the noise. Luke burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but to join him. It was a pretty horrendous attempt.

“Oh my God,” Luke chuckled lowly, pressing his forehead to the nape of your bare neck. His skin seemed to shock yours, and your fingers twitched with anticipation, tingles running down your spine.

Luke noticed it too, “Whoa, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you looked back at him, still giggling lightly. His eyes were a bright blue, alert and attentive, and his arms seemed to tighten around you as your gazes met.

“Y/N?” He breathed heavily.

“Yeah Luke?”

“We’re friends, right?”

You let out another small titter at his words. Was he blind? You were now wrapped around his finger like everyone else at school.

“Of course we are, silly,” you teased.

“And…” Luke hesitated, “…would it go against the rules of friendship if I were to kiss you right now?”

In response, you merely shook your head. Luke smiled in an embarrassed fashion, but you wanted this.

“Not at all,” you said softly.

And then he was kissing you. You were slightly shocked, not actually expecting it, but you quickly regained your composure, kissing him back. You’d only kissed someone a handful of times, and Luke seemed so experienced, so of course you were intimidated.

Luke grabbed his guitar and pulled it away so that you could have more leeway. You climbed off of him for a moment as he set his guitar down on the floor, and that suddenly made you nervous. Was he planning on doing more than simply making out on the bed?

He leaned back down to where you were, his lips once again finding yours. You couldn’t deny that you liked the way he kissed you, like he’d been repressing everything and it was all pouring out now.

His palm rested near your thigh and you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back down onto the bed with you. Both of you giggled as you scrambled up to where the pillows were, you lips connecting and disconnecting multiple times.

Luke’s left hand found your hip, the other brushing a few fallen strands of hair out of your face. He pulled back to watch you for a moment, and you stared back at him, out of breath. He smiled at you.

You ran your fingers through his silky blonde hair and leaned back up to meet his lips. He quickly obliged.

On a swerve of confidence, you flipped the two of you over. Luke pulled back, looking at you in disbelief and you simply giggled, “Don’t underestimate me, Hemmings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed, and you laughed. Slowly and sensually, you grinded yourself down on him, and he groaned. You took that as a good sign; you didn’t actually have much of an idea of what you were doing. You’d only had sex once, and had regretted it right after.

But with Luke, being intimate felt right. It felt like home, where you could be yourself. So you might as well have been confident, a feeling you weren’t acquainted to.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Luke groaned, closing his eyes as your centers rubbed together through your sweats. You giggled excitedly, happy that you were doing something right. Your fingers found the hem of Luke’s tank, and you quickly tugged it upwards.

He understood and you leaned back on your knees so that he could sit up, quickly ridding himself of his top. He discarded it somewhere into the dark room, and you marvelled at his torso.

He was pale, with a very broad chest and shoulders. His stomach was flat and tense as he waited for you to make your next move, his nipples small pink discs. You slowly ran your hands from his shoulders down to his pecs, down to his abdomen. You could feel faint ridges of tense muscle underneath your palms and you savoured the feeling. He skin was burning hot.

“I think you should be topless too,” Luke teased you. You flushed a deep red but crossed your arms over your body nonetheless, gripping the hem of your (or was it his?) shirt and slowly pulling it up over your head.

You wore a plain white bra with a small lacy bow resting between the cups. Suddenly feeling very exposed, you looked up, trying to gauge Luke’s reaction to seeing you like this.

His eyes were wide and he was licking his lips hungrily, staring over your entire body as though he wanted to devour you. You climbed back onto his lap, subtly grinding down on him again, and he traced your shoulder with his fingers. His touch dipped down to your collarbone, after a while running down the valley of your breasts, making you shiver.

Luke leaned in to kiss you again, which you reciprocated. After a while, he moved away, scraping his lips along your cheek and jawline before preparing to give his full attention to your neck. He kissed up and down the column of your throat, making you tilt your head back to offer him more access. Your lips parted as you stared up at the ceiling, loving the way he felt against your throat at the moment.

“Luke,” you couldn’t help but to whimper. He spoke his next words against the flesh of your neck, sending vibrations along your body, “Grind on me, Y/N.”

It took you a moment to process what he’d said, but when you did, you slowly began to circle your hips on his. He continued pressing kisses to your neck and nipping on small patches of skin, making you close your eyes.

How had you two gotten here? Five minutes ago he was trying to teach you how to play his guitar.

You raked your fingers through Luke’s hair, mussing it, and he sucked on a spot right above your collarbone. You cried out and he chuckled, knowing that he’d found your sweet spot. He continued to suck at it and even nipped it a few times, and you shook from the inexperience and sensitivity.

The whole while, your hips were circling against one another. Luke’s were snapping upwards, meeting yours in perfect harmony. You whimpered when Luke blew cool air onto your sweet spot, and you whispered, “Luke.”

“Yes Y/N?” He pulled back quickly. You smiled at how he would stop in a heartbeat if you asked him to, and how he was constantly worried about pushing you too far; it was endearing.

“I-I want us to take our pants off,” you explained timidly, and you could almost feel the fire of your cheeks transfer onto his as he blushed too. He nodded slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he replied simply, his lips a dark red from all of the kissing you’d indulged in. Your fingers hooked through the waistband of your sweatpants, and you timidly pulled them down, exposing Luke to your lower half.

Your body was in no way perfect. There were stretch marks on your breasts and your thighs, your knees were knobby, and your stomach wasn’t exactly flat. You looked up shyly at Luke, whose gaze was sweeping down your entire body.

“Oh my God,” he let out. You crossed your arms over your body; he was looking at you like you were some sort of specimen in a lab.

“No, don’t do that,” Luke grappled with your wrists gently, trying to uncover you.

He muttered something under his breath, seeming to scold himself, “God, I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year and I never actually thought–”

“You like me?” You asked incredulously, cutting him off.

He nodded frantically, his eyes blown out with lust, yet they weren’t raking down your figure anymore. Luke was staring at you with adoration, something you had never really seen in a boy’s eyes before.

“Hell yeah,” he practically sighed, raking his hand through his hair.

You grabbed his hand and twined your fingers together as he spoke, “We’ve only ever had English together, and I watched you all the time. I think you’re amazing. And today–fuck, I wanted tonight to be a date so bad, I was just too scared to actually ask.”

Your cheeks were as red as a tomato by the time he finished his short rant. You didn’t think anyone in school was attracted to you, much less Luke Hemmings. He was popular, social and had dozens of girls falling at his feet; you were more of a wallflower, not wanting to get on anyone’s bad side and simply preferring to stay out of the spotlight.

“I really like you, Luke,” you admitted almost as thought you were ashamed. And then you leaned forward to kiss him again.

His lips were soft and welcoming, nothing rushed about this kiss. His bright blue eyes closed as you both savoured the kiss and the confessions of one another. You didn’t think that the fact had resonated in your mind yet; Luke Hemmings liked you.

Quickly and hastily, Luke’s fingers slipped into the band of his own sweatpants and he pulled them down swiftly. You climbed back into his lap as he kicked the constraining material away and they disappeared into the room, no longer needed. Luke wore black American Apparel boxers, and you could see a visible tent in the crotch of his underwear.

The fact that you’d managed to give him a boner made you giggle like a toddler. Luke smiled sheepishly, his cheeks showcasing just how embarrassed he actually was.

He gripped your hips as you straddled him, your cotton-covered core coming into contact with the arousal in his boxers. You let out a sharp gasp and buried you face into Luke’s neck. All of the teasing and foreplay had made you sensitive, your clit swollen and begging for attention within the confines of your panties.

“So good,” Luke groaned as you rocked back and forth on him.

With the two of you now only in your underwear, you took the opportunity to run your palms along the plains of his torso, sweeping along his pecs and gripping his shoulders as your head fell back.

Luke resumed kissing your neck, sucking viciously on your sweet spot, and you knew there would be a mark left over. His hands skimmed up and down your sides, the cool metal of his few rings contrasting greatly to the hot and sticky atmosphere of your actions.

“Y/N,” Luke confessed, “I want to touch you. I want you.”

In response, you grabbed the hands that were roaming your body, bringing them up to your face. You kissed the tip of each of Luke’s fingers, stopping at last to suck on his left pinky, the one that housed a sleek silver band.

In a very un-Y/N-like way, you set his hands on your shoulders before staring into Luke’s face. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in awe of your sudden confidence. You smiled softly at him before dragging his hands down your upper chest and over the cups of your bra, down your stomach and your hips, finally planting them on your upper thighs and leaving them there.

“Then take me,” you whispered.

You couldn’t believe what you were doing.

“Fuck,” Luke hissed as he quickly flipped the two of you over. He hovered over you, his right palm planted on the pillow beside your head to keep himself aloft. His other hand traced the contour of your right cheek, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

His hand slowly progressed lower on your body, fingers dancing along the straps of your white bra, sliding them down your shoulders timidly. He looked at you for permission, and you nodded.

His hands snuck behind your back, grabbing hold of the clasp and working to undo it. When he finally succeeded, you froze, remembering the imperfections on your body.

Luke sensed your unease. He looked at you inquisitively, “What’s wrong?”

“I have stretch marks,” you whispered, blushing a fiery red and looking away, ashamed that you had to come out and say it in such a blunt way.

“So?” Luke asked, not unkindly. You shyly met his eyes, only to find that they were sparkling with adoration for you. He didn’t seem to care about the blemishes or lines or wrinkles on certain parts of your body.

In a sudden spurt of confidence and gratefulness for Luke Hemmings, you threw your arms around his neck, your lips clashing together. He kissed you back with equal passion and you subconsciously wrapped your legs around his waist, clutching him to you.

His hands framed your face sweetly, but now you were ready to bare yourself to him. You shrugged off your bra straps, letting the material fall loosely onto the bed beside you. Luke broke away from your lips and stared at your breasts somewhat hungrily. He stared for a long moment, making you shift uneasily.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed, and you quickly felt your face heat up again.

Luke lowered his hands and got to your collarbone before freezing. He looked up at you worriedly, “Can I?”

“Duh,” you merely giggled, and he smiled sheepishly.

His fingers brushed over the valley of your breasts before he ran them along your chest gently. He paid attention to your right first, simply trailing his fingertips along the soft skin. As he neared your nipple, you felt the small bud tighten up. Luke’s fingers danced delicately along the bumps that had now formed on your areola.

“That feels nice,” you sighed lightly.

Luke took that as a sign to actually put a bit more pressure, and he leaned down, kissing along the skin of your cleavage gently. You shuddered at the feeling of his warm lips sponging pecks along one of the most private and reserved parts of your body.

Luke placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on your skin, his fingers tweaking the nipple of your other breast gently. You gasped as he suddenly moistened his lips and pressed a wet kiss to your right nipple.

“Is that okay?” He wondered, and you nodded your head frantically. His head bent again, and this time, he took your nipple past his lips, concealing it in the hot cavern that was his mouth.

You let out a sharp squeak, and he began to pull back, wondering if he’d done something wrong. But then you ran your fingers through his hair, reassuring him with breathy gasps and soft moans as he swirled his tongue around the erect bud.

“It feels so good Luke,” you whimpered out as he gave a particularly forceful suck.

He pulled your nipple from his mouth and a pop, looking at you through hooded eyes and bucking his hips down down into yours, grinding them firmly. Your fingers raked through his hair, grabbing fistfuls, and he groaned. You guess he liked that.

Luke suddenly sat up on his knees, straddling your thighs. He looked at you, his palms running down your stomach and stopping at the waistline of your plain cotton panties. He looked at you, hooking his index fingers through the waistline.

You nodded.

And then he was tugging your underwear down so quickly that you thought he would simply rip them from your body. Once they reached your knees you shimmied them down and kicked them off frantically.

You were now completely bare in front of Luke Hemmings, star musician and well-adored student of your school.

And he was staring at you like he was torn between caressing your body like royalty or fucking your brains out.

“Fuck baby, you’re beautiful,” Luke murmured, eyeing your dripping heat and your swollen clit. You shivered as the pet name fell from his lips and his warm breath washed over your intimate area.

Luke leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your clit, making you suck in a sharp gasp. Subconsciously, your hands shot down your body, fingers twining in his hair.

“Luke,” you gasped, closing your eyes. Luke’s body rumbled with a chuckle and he pressed kisses along your folds, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips down firmly.

When Luke licked a stripe up your core, your hips bucked up, but he quickly held them down. He repeated the action, and you bit your lip to keep from making any noise; it felt really good, but you didn’t want to seem desperate.

But Luke had other ideas. “Moan, Y/N. How else am I supposed to know what you like?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you replied back in a small voice. Luke chuckled, peppering kisses to the inside flesh of your thighs before lifting his head and smirking at you.

“No,” he said, “What’s embarrassing is not being able to get my girl to come, because she’s scared I won’t think her moans are sexy as fuck. Because they are.”

Your cheeks burned crimson when he claimed you as his, and Luke just cocked an eyebrow at you, his lips curving up in a knowing little smirk. He ducked his head back down into your heat, continuously lapping at your folds. You gasped.

“Luke,” you whimpered, raking your fingers through his hair. He groaned into your core, the vibrations maximizing against your sensitive clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were wet, so, so wet, and Luke was licking you up as though he’d been starved of your sweet pussy his entire life; and in a way, he had.

“Fuck, princess,” Luke growled, “You taste like peaches. So fucking good.”

His filthy words made you shiver, and your thighs tightened around his head, your heels digging into the smooth skin of his shoulder blades. Luke’s fingers ran along the span of your hips, tickling you slightly as his tongue traced around your dripping hole.

Suddenly his tongue dipped inside, and you let out a cross between a gasp and a high pitched whine. You grabbed onto Luke’s hand, your fingers intertwining as he timidly poked his tongue in again.

“Oh my God,” you whined, throwing your head back. Luke’s tongue was wide and flat, a perfect oval, and he squeezed your hands adoringly. There was a thin sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies now, and you felt your hair coming undone from its bun and sticking to the nape of your neck.

“Luke, please,” you gasped, your lips parting at the magnificent feeling. Loud, obscene sounds were filling the room. You looked down at Luke and your gazes met just as he took your clit into his mouth and sucked harshly.

You cried out, your toes digging into the smooth flesh of his back. In response, Luke chuckled, mumbling against your skin, “Like that, beautiful?”

“Luke Hemmings!” You gasped in a high-pitched voice, “Fuck me. Now.”

Luke pulled his lips away from your delicious core and looked at you with wide eyes. Your own lips parted as you realised what you’d just said…and how much you’d actually meant it.

“Y/N,” Luke began, placing his hands on the mattress and lifting himself up. He hovered above you again, his lips shiny with your juices, “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you nodded, trying to hide your desperation.

He chewed on his lips, his blue eyes boring into your dull ones. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you softly. You sighed, tasting yourself on his tongue. Without pulling his mouth from yours, Luke stretched out, fumbling blindly with one of the drawers in his nightstand. He finally opened it and produced a square packet.

“God baby,” Luke groaned, not knowing just how much of an effect his pet names had on you, “I’ve wanted you like this for so long.”

You couldn’t reply, realising that he was ripping open the foil packaging and guiding it towards his shaft.

It was actually happening. You were going to have sex with Luke Hemmings. You were–shockingly–very excited. You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards him, and he only became more amazing now that you knew about his feelings towards you.

Luke rolled on the condom and grasped himself, bringing his tip to your core. It brushed your clit, sending shivers down your spine and making him smile lightly. You just blushed.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking at you, “Can I just put it in? You’re so goddamn magnificent.”

You giggled in response and nodded. Luke placed both hands near your head and slowly inched into you.

You were soaked. But nonetheless, it was still a foreign feelin, and you needed a moment. Luke realized this and stilled, letting you adjust to his size before pushing in a bit further. The process repeated until he was completely lodged inside of you.

“Give me a second,” you whispered to him. Your hands wound around his neck and you pulled him down, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Luke moaned into your mouth, “Fuck darling, you’re so tight.” He began to move slowly, pulling all the way out before sliding back in with ease. You gasped at the pleasure, your hands gripping his neck and playing with the small sweaty curls at the nape.

“C'mon Luke,” you teased, craving more of the divine feeling, “Pound me.”

He let out a moan at your words and pulled out of you so quickly that you’d barely had any time to register it before he plunged back in. A whine slipped from your lips.

“Dammit,” Luke cursed, “Your pussy babe–so fucking tight.”

You gripped his shoulders and kissed him again. His hands left the spaces near your head and grabbed your hips so tightly you thought he would leave bruises. Suddenly he retreated away from you, sitting up onto his knees and looking down at you hungrily. He continued to thrust, his hips snapped forward and his hands pulling your torso onto him with each thrust. You cried out.

“Luke!” You moaned, sighing in pleasure. You were sensitive, your body nearing the brink of an orgasm. Subconsciously, your own hands came up to squeeze at your breasts, and Luke swore once he perceived this, his blue eyes hazy with lust, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“I’m not gonna last,” he admitted, rocking into you at a speed that could’ve proved a challenge for a jet. You closed your eyes, several “me neither"s spilling from your lips. Your back arched to the point of pain as you gasped and writhed in Luke’s hold. He leaned down, sponging sloppy kisses along the valley of your breasts all the way to your navel.

“God Y/N,” he groaned, sounding pained, “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this. You’re so–fuck–so goddamn gorgeous. You’re mine, promise me that you’re mine.”

“I promise,” you practically sobbed, your eyes squeezed closed. You were biting on your left thumb to keep in all of the curses threatening to escape.

“Good,” Luke growled, and with a final thrust, you felt yourself spill over the edge, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your body shook and writhed, and in your daze, you felt Luke’s hands run over you in an attempt to soothe you.

“Shit!” you gasped, your muscles tensing and relaxing. You had no idea how long it lasted for, but once you finally regained your senses, Luke still hadn’t finished.

“I c-can’t hold on,” he stuttered weakly, his shaft sliding in and out of you at a lightning pace. You winced at the sensitivity but let him carry on nonetheless.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around Luke’s neck, pulling him close to you. You then pulled the both of you down onto his mattress, staring into his eyes the entire time.

“Come for me, Luke,” you whispered, “I’m yours.”

Luke bit down on his lip and you felt him twitch inside of you. A yell tore from his throat as you felt him release into the condom, his mouth popping into a little ‘o’ and a whimper escaping every so often. You kissed the tip of his cute little nose as his hands held your hips in place, his body still as he rode out his orgasm.

Once he finally came down from his high, everything was silent, slowly, his eyes opened, the light blue irises gazing at you hazily. The left corner of his mouth rose into a small smile, and you returned it, both of you exhausted.

“Wow,” he breathed, and you merely giggled hoarsely. He rolled off of you, pulling off the condom and knotting it before tossing it into a trash can beside his bedside table.

“You okay?” He asked you gently, moving closer to you and running his fingers up your spine. You shivered lightly but nodded, “I’m a bit sore, to be honest. But I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

He chuckled lightly, his left arm winding around your midsection. His lips fluttered against your shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you giggled, blushing madly at the fact that you two were still naked. You turned so that you were facing the blonde boy and you smiled cheekily, “It was worth it.”

He chuckled again, but worry washed into his eyes, “Please don’t leave,” he said suddenly, “I won’t be able to handle it. I’ve liked you for so long, and I can’t–”

“Luke!” You cut off his rambling, “I meant what I said. I’m yours.”

And then you kissed him again.


The next day, you exited the car, bidding your mother goodbye and slamming the door. She drove off with a wave, and as soon as you turned you saw a blonde, lanky boy run up to you with a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Luke said breathlessly, stopping in front of you. He wore black jeans, a black shirt with maroon sleeves, dark Converse and his maroon SnapBack. Before you could say anything, he leaned down and kissed you, letting the action draw out for several seconds.

“Luke!” You gasped as he pulled back, smiling deviously at you. You laughed, but swatted at his arm, “You’re a dork, you know that?”

He shrugged, his grin wide. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you both began walking towards the main entrance of your school. You were painfully aware of many students watching you, and you couldn’t stop the faint pink colouring that rose to your cheeks.

Luke laughed, noticing your embarrassment, and pressed a sloppy yet consoling kiss to your cheek, “But I’m your dork, correct?”

You grinned up at him, giving him a playful little shove with your shoulder.



Feedback is greatly appreciated :) feel free to send in requests!


First week finished!! I decorated my binder label (changed the paper for watercolor paper, did some abstract teal thing and done! It looks amazing!)

anonymous asked:

The day housekeeper!Madara goes off to Ikea and comes back with five six-level bookshelves, three filing cabinets and a desk and just leaves them for Tobirama to find already assembled, with stacks of two-inch binders and little label stickers.

Aka the day Tobirama raids Madara’s cupboard of cleaning supplies and sets it on fire

Organisation Guide

Organisation Guide:


  • For your main courses or the courses with a lot of assignments/tests/worksheets… Keep a Binder. Although, I would not suggest that you carry the binder with you at all times. Unless you need it, leave it at home. Place old assessments/tests in them.
  • Label the binders. To avoid putting the material in the wrong binder.
  • If you want to study for a test, but do not want to carry the binder, I suggest that you place your notes/assessments in a pocket folder. It is much lighter to carry.
  • My system for my class notes is: Notes—>Pocket Folder —> Place in Binder (After I finish re-writing my notes in another notebook)
  • If you prefer pocket folders, then use it. But, it can fit only so much. If you know that you are going to be taking a lot of notes and have a handful of exercise sheets, go with the binders.
  • Dividers for the binders can be of help if necessary.
  • *Reminder: Assure yourself to organise the binders at least once a week. Assure that whatever you have in that binder, belongs there.

Before Sleeping:

  • Before going to sleep, prepare ahead for the next day.
  • Prepare your lunch.
  • Plan out your day.
  • Write down some important memos.
  • Put your assignments/books in your backpack for tomorrow’s class.
  • Charge your electronic devices.
  • Set an Alarm.
  • If you use the Cornell Note-taking System, then draw out the lines for the boxes, so you are not spending class time doing so.
  • Assure that you have loose leafs. And, that you put your pencil case in your bag.
  • If you commute to school, check your bus schedule. Just to know when you have to leave the house. (In the Morning)

Additional Tips:

  • Textbooks. Unless your teachers specifies that they are going to be using it every class, do not bring it for every class. It gets heavy. Most of time, textbooks are just used as reference for yourself.
  • Course Packs: Bring this for every class. You are going to need it.
  • Dictionary: Sometimes you need it, sometimes you do not. Most of the time, if you have a writing or in-class assignment, then you will require it. But, the teacher will most likely tell you.
  • Schedule: Have it. Whether it is a paper copy/a picture of it on your phone/written somewhere.
  • USB Key: It is useful to carry around.
  • Calculator: Just carry it in your pencil case.

Best of Luck.

Schooling Tips!

It’s the dreaded back to school season. And whether you like it or not, you’ve got to start preparing. Here’s some tips for school that I came up with. It’s not a lot yet, but I’d like for me and other people to add as many as possible. Keep in mind that I go to an American public high school in a suburb of Chicago, so obviously not everything will be universally applicable, so if anyone from other places are willing to add tips that are specific to their locations, go right ahead.

Before School Starts:

* A week or two (or more) before school starts, start waking up earlier, if you don’t already. That way, by the time school comes around, you won’t suddenly have to change sleep schedules.

* If your school doesn’t provide a school supply list for you, then here are some basics plus other things to keep handy:

   * binders – I recommend getting one for each subject. But, if your classes don’t give out lots of papers, you could just have one binder, with each divider labeled with a certain subject. Personally, I think using accordion folders is a better option because you don’t need to hole punch everything and I think they’re lighter.

   * mechanical pencils, bright highlighters, black/colored pens, erasers – Make sure the pencils are no. 2! I’m not 100% what it means but as far as I know, standardized tests require these types of pencils. They’re labeled as no. 2 pencils on the package. And also you don’t have to awkwardly go up to the pencil sharpener in the middle of class! Don’t forget extra led. Highlighters and pens are great for color coding notes and other organization techniques you might use. 

   * notebooks/notebook paper – Particularly for classes that require you to take notes. Not all classes need it, but you won’t know which ones until well into the year, so it’s best to keep at least some lined paper in handy. You could use 1-subject notebooks for each class or use ajus 3-subject Or, if your school allows it, you can use a tablet or a laptop.

   * small journal/planner – Not all schools provide assignment notebooks, so you should keep a planner or just a plain journal/notebook to write down all of your assignments.

   * calculator, protractor, compass – Math, y’all. Try to get a scientific calculator if you’re allowed to bring one. They should be no more than $15. My school requires a graphing calculator and those are really expensive ($150!!!) so yeah. I think my school stopped requiring compasses and protractors in like 6th or 7th grade, so my teachers provide one.

   * USB drive – If you’re doing projects that are saved onto the computer, it’s best to use a USB drive so you can access it from home and school.

   * backpack – This is obvious, right? You need a bag roomy enough to fit everything you need. When I was in middle school, I didn’t need to bring my backpack everywhere; we used our lockers for that. But that was because my school was really small. Generally, you’ll need to bring your backpack everywhere with you, because going to your locker between classes will take up too much time, especially in the beginning of the year when you’re still figuring out where your classes are. Get a comfortable backpack. Trust me.

   * food – Maybe your lunch time is kinda late, and you’ll need a snack. Keep some snacks that won’t expire for a while in your locker or bag. I like to put my snacks in ziploc baggie, because they’re resealable and noticeably quieter than a foil chip bag. You don’t want to disrupt the class if you’re secretly eating a few pretzels or something.

   * hand lotion, tissues, hand sanitizer, deodorant, some sort of body spray – I lumped these all together because it’s hard to explain them individually. You can keep your deodorant in your gym locker, not in your bag. Hand sanitizer is great when you’re rushing to the cafeteria or if you can’t find the bathroom to wash your hands and you’re too awkward to ask.

   * portable charger for your phone – You know when you find out in the morning that your phone didn’t charge overnight? You’re welcome.

   * index cards and post it notes – Index cards are great for notes when you have a presentation, believe me. And why not have post it notes? Keep them with you just in case, you’ll probably have to use them eventually.

   * lunch bag/box and water bottle – You can keep your snacks in here with your lunch too if you want. Hydration is really important. In fact, you can put stickers on your water bottle with times written on it so that you remember to drink a certain amount of water by a certain time. If you’re confused by what I mean, look up “water bottle hack”.

* I’ve seen and heard required textbooks for school costing way too much to afford for school. People have been providing masterposts of textbook pdf links, but I can’t access the internet as I’m typing this, so will someone please reblog this with the links?

Preparing/During School:

* Spend as much time as you want picking your outfit the day before school starts. Not the morning of. I’m sure you’ve got plenty on your mind at that point, and freaking out over what you want to wear isn’t going to help.

* In fact, you should do a lot of things the day before. Take a shower the night before instead of in the morning. I know that on my first couple days of school I want as much time in the morning as possible. You can make that time by preparing a ton of stuff beforehand.

* Most people at my new school are saying that the cafeteria is actually really good, and I never have the time or the materials to make my own lunch anyway, so I just buy my lunch. Every day. BUT if I wasn’t so confident in my school’s ability to make edible food, I’d definitely bring my lunch.
   * I’ve seen a lot of people use a bento lunch box type thing? It’s basically a food container with dividers to organize your lunch.
   * Pack yourself a full lunch. You don’t want to get hungry after lunch and have it distract you in the middle of class.
   * If you’re like me, when we start getting more assignments, you start going to bed later and waking up later as well. So, you end up rushing through the morning and maybe skipping breakfast. My advice is to keep cereal bars somewhere, whether it’s in your backpack or the pantry, so that when you’re running on a tight schedule, you don’t have to take time to prepare it.

* Try to get at least 8-9 hours of sleep.

* Do your homework as early as possible. Use as much extra time as possible finishing it, especially if you have a lot of work. For big projects, set personal due dates for parts of the project, so that you don’t end up cramming everything all at once. People usually say to do all of the hard work first, but I think you should only do that in big projects. If you do all the easy work first, then you can get more done. This is just a suggestion, though. Different things work for different people.

This is as much as I can think of right now. I’ll try to add more.

- Admin Cas