coffee at night keeps you awake

5 STUDY MOODS

I’ve seen study moods among the studyblr community and I think they’re super cute, so I decided to make some of my own. If anyone has already done any of these, I apologize! I did not mean to steal your idea. Nevertheless, I hope you try these out the next time you need inspiration to study. All study moods include 3 song suggestions and pictures. 

The Hogwarts Experience:

Night time. (preferably winter).  Big, brown desk filled with open textbooks and notes. Library, or a cozy room in your house. Candlelight, or lamps. Possibly near a fireplace. A cozy blanket to keep you warm. Subjects such as History, Science, or reading a book for a class. Harry Potter soundtrack playing in the background. A big cup of hot coffee. 

Song Suggestions: 

  1. Hedwig’s Theme: Harry Potter Theme Song 
  2. Lily’s Theme: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 
  3. The Resurrection Stone: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 

The All Nighter:

1am-6am. Night before a big exam, or on finals week. All your materials layed out on the floor. Energy drinks and coffee. Sweats and a huge t-shirt. Upbeat music playing to keep you awake. Lots of review, flashcards, practice tests. Possibly some friends with you. 

Song Suggestions:

The Early Bird:

Early in the morning. A clean, white desk next to a window with sunlight pouring in. Studying just one subject, or reading a book. Eating breakfast and listening to soft, calm music. Birds chirping. Fall time. A cozy blanket thrown over your legs.

Song Suggestions:

The Comfy Kid:

Laying in bed after a shower. Very light studying. Reading a book, or watching video notes. Lots of snacks and pillows. Calm music. Warning: probably going to fall asleep. During sunrise or sunset. Maybe in bed with a significant other, or pet. Coffee.

Song Suggestions:

The Workaholic:

A whole day committed to studying. No distractions. In a library. Classical music plying through your headphones. Writing essays and dong lab write ups. Coffee and snacks. Laptop, books, textbooks, and lots of notes. Alone all day. 

Song Suggestions: 

Family: 12x12 Coda

“Castiel?” Mary tapped lightly on his door.

“He spent the night with Dean,” Sam told her. He was leaning in his own doorway.

“Oh? I just wanted to check in on him. I suppose Dean’s keeping an eye on him.” She smiled knowingly. “Are they…? I mean he told Dean he loved him last night.”

Sam shrugged. “If know. I half expected Dean to drive off somewhere in the middle of the night and drink himself stupid. He doesn’t do feelings.” He put an arm around his mother and walked her to the kitchen for some coffee and a longer chat.

“The waitress yesterday morning?” Mary asked.

“Classic Dean. Alpha male, pack leader. Clearly not interested in her but still asserts his masculinity. He knows Cas isn’t looking to hook up with anyone. He’s not the casual sex kind of guy.”

“And you and Dean are?” It was a fair enough question.

Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Not a topic he wanted to discuss with his mother. “No time for relationships. Let’s leave it at that. And not so much for one night stands the past couple years. I think we went and got too old for it.”

“Maybe it’s because Dean has Castiel. Maybe the whole show yesterday was to throw us off, keep it a secret. But when you’re dying you say things you think you may never say again.”

Sam cleared his throat. Dean stumbled into the kitchen with an equally half awake angel behind him. They grunted their greetings to the other Winchesters and Cas flopped down beside Mary whilst Dean fixed them some coffee. They noticed Cas was wearing some of Dean’s things and his hair was particularly unruly like he’d actually slept.

“Rough night?” Sam asked. He figured one of them would answer him.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve slept. Dean’s bed is quite comfortable, though. It was easier to rest than I anticipated.” Cas was straightforward as usual.

Mary looked to Dean. He didn’t look remotely flustered. No posturing. “Did you get any sleep, Dean?”

“Better than I have in years.”

Sam fought a smirk. “So you slept…together?”

Dean glared at him over his cup. “You got a problem with that?”

Sam shrugged again. “You wanna be cuddle buddies with Cas that’s fine with me. Mom?” He shifted the focus to Mary.

She put her arm around Cas. “I think it’s wonderful that you have each other.” She hugged him to her side. “My boys. My Winchester boys.”

“You’re definitely a Winchester, Cas.” Sam reached across the table to pat his hand. “Whether Dean makes an honest man out of you or not, you’ll always be my brother.”

“Honest man? I am an honest man, Sam.” Cas looked confused.

“He means if we get hitched, married, tie the knot.”

“Oh. I’m afraid we couldn’t wear white as tradition - “

“Oh Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean shouted. He immediately covered his eyes in embarrassment. Sam and Mary just burst into giggles and eventually Dean broke and joined them.

My family, Cas thought to himself. What did I get myself into?

The Old College Try: Part 3 (Lin/Reader college roommate!AU)

Summary: You spent the summer before your freshman year of college thinking your roommate was going to be a girl named Lin. When you get to campus, that’s not what you find.

Part Three: In which there are late night adventures, breakups, and 100% platonic bed sharing.

Words: 5018

You can find Part One here. You can find Part Two here.

A few people asked to be tagged!: @obsessingovercommas @calumbeans @nanafangirls @thedoctorsnerdgirl @depressedglittergirl @buckybarneshairpullingkink @ctrl-altdelete @super–who–locked @crystep34 @sharkastic-issues @fellintotartarus @bellabozella @tailored-shirt-tails @olaxandra @yournotsosimpledemon @seiteixnalaicos @thecursedfangirl @sugar-i-caant @rose-is-in-the-void @daintyhibiscus @momorellacchi @scintillatedplanets @batgurl32467 @justfangirlingaround @picklessfights

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12.17 coda

suspicious gap between dean abducting kelly and nightfall during which talking definitely happened. also maybe some minor blasphemies. 

Kelly doesn’t say a word for a solid twenty minutes. She crosses her arms tight across her chest and huffs, glaring fidgety burning holes into the rearview. When she starts to hiss and groan and her eyes start to water, Dean breaks the silence.

“Hey, you doing ok?”

Kelly clenches her teeth and slides back in the seat, tilting up her hips to relieve some of the pressure. “What do you care,” she spits. She whimpers once, a small and sad sound that wasn’t meant to escape her.

Dean’s hands flutter on the wheel. “Just let me know if you need something,” he says.

Her knee knocks into the back of the passenger’s seat. She takes a breath and starts to sit up, her eyes narrowed. “I need you to stay out of my business.”

Dean doesn’t respond to that either. He just slams his foot on the gas and keeps moving steadily along, towards safety. 

“Dagon’s not going to be happy when she finds you,” Kelly mutters.

Even if Dagon found them on this nearly empty city highway, she would never be able to get inside the Impala. The old girl’s sigiled to shit. Plus, Sam’s got the Colt. Dean doesn’t tell Kelly any of that, but he does assure her, “We can handle it” with a cold smirk.

His phone beeps on the passenger seat beside him and he all but lunges for the thing, heart racing. It’s amazing how quickly his mind can shift his priorities around.

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Princess (m)

•  words: 5.1k
•  genre: college au, smut
•  pairing: chanyeol x reader (ft sehun)
•  a/n: ok this is my first ever fic so please bare with me, i’m more of a editor than a writer tbh lmao. it might become a series so if you like it please like and comment~

Originally posted by chanshine

You dreaded at the thought of your project deadline being moved a week earlier. You only had two more weeks to get the project finished and thinking about it just made you anxious.

It was a Thursday morning and you weren’t in the best of moods, the stress was now taking over you, meaning that you had hardly got any sleep last night which made you wake up later than usual forcing you to skip breakfast and rush to your first lecture of the day. On the way, you grabbed a coffee and somehow made it to class. The project room was on the other side of the campus, but the coffee played a huge part in keeping you active. You take a seat at the left side of the room which was by the door.

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The Joker x Reader -“ELLIS”

Nothing is ever easy with him, but this time he really crossed the line. If The Joker doesn’t care about anything at all, what is the point of you two being together? Unless…maybe he gives a damn about at least one thing.

You always drive back to Gotham on lonely, deserted roads, trying to avoid traffic as much as possible.

“J, we’re close to our cabin, we should stop and spend the night; just me and you, yes?” you smile, attempting to be cheerful and lightening up the mood.

“I don’t feel like it!” he bitterly replies, keeping his eyes on the road.

“We’re almost at the turn we have to take to get there. Come on… please?”

“NO! I told you I don’t feel like it!” he snarls, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel. You place your hand on his thigh, caressing it with your thumb:

“Baby, it’s not my fault the meeting didn’t go well.”

He pushes your hand away, still fuming. You look outside the window and take a deep breath, watching the sun going down behind the trees.

“J, come on, don’t be like this…You know I love you,” you tilt your head towards him, hoping he will change his mind.

“Right!!” he scoffs with a sour expression on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, getting restless.

“It means whatever you want it to mean!” the Joker snaps, quickly glancing your way.“You don’t love me, nobody does!” he hisses, being in such a foul mood he can barely concentrate on driving.

“Yeah…I wonder why…” you mutter but he heard you and it makes him even more enraged. You start massaging your temples; you really don’t need this after all the stuff that happened lately.

“J…why did we get married?” you ask, closing your eyes, thinking how much you wish your lives were different.

“Because we’re idiots, Y/N, that’s why!” he angrily raises his voice, accelerating. “Thank God you had the miscarriage three months ago because the kid would have probably had your attitude. I don’t think I could handle two of you!”

He hears you sniffle and your voice breaks down when you address him:

“Why…why do you say such cruel things?” and you start sobbing, deeply hurt by his words. “Stop the car…” you manage to speak through tears. “Stop the car!!!!” you suddenly hit the window with your first and he slams the breaks, unnerved.

You get out fast, taking your wedding ring off and tossing it in his lap:

“Here, consider yourself divorced!” you slam the door, frantically wiping your tears. He just grunts, annoyed and screams back at you:
“Fine! I don’t need you anyway!”

“I don’t need you either!” you yell, whimpering, feeling so miserable you can’t wait for him to go away.

“I hope you die in these woods!” The Joker growls, taking off in a frenzy, aggravated.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction!” you shout, crossing your arms on your tummy, watching him disappear in the distance. You turn around and start walking back towards the hidden unpaved, unmarked road that leads to your cabin. It should be about 10-15 minutes away by foot. You recently passed the spot by car so it shouldn’t be too far. Add about 2 more hours of walking until you reach the destination and you should be there before it gets really dark.

You walk rather slow, deep in thought; being outdoors does make you feel a little bit better. It takes you more than 2 hours, but you are finally at the hideout. You go inside and turn the lights on, looking through your supplies to see what you could munch on. You decide to make a tea and wrap yourself in a blanket, then head out to the porch so you can enjoy the silence you crave so badly.

You have your little backpack with you and search inside until you find the ultrasound picture you kept from when it was confirmed you were pregnant. Your eyes get teary again and you kiss the small image, talking to yourself:
“He only wishes you would have been like me…” you sadly smile and your grieving is interrupted by the sound of tires approaching.

Oh, no, what is he doing here? you panic, covering your head with the hoodie in a failed effort to calm down.

He gets out of the car and slams the door as hard as he can, staring you down.

“W-what are you doing here?” you inquire, shriveling down under your fluffy cover. J walks the stairs up to the porch, barking your way:

“I wanted to see if you died on your way here this way I can bury you. It would have given me great pleasure.”

“I’m not sorry to disappoint,” you sneer, still holding the little picture to your chest.

“What’s that?” The Joker points towards it, even if he already has an idea.

“Nothing you care about…”, you chew on your words, making an extra effort to keep your composure as you return your treasure to the backpack.

He takes a seat on the bench that’s the furthest from you, legs up on the railing, trying to light up a cigarette when you unexpectedly rush to yank it out of his hand and toss it to the ground, stepping on it:

“You quit two years ago!”

“Give it a rest before you make me mad!” J growls, taking out the full pack of cigarettes but you snatch it from him, breaking and tearing it to pieces, frustrated about everything and taking it on his nasty habit.

He takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper and warns you:

“Stop your shit, Y/N, you’re pissing me off!”

You don’t even care and continue:

“Go back to Gotham, I want to be alone! I don’t want you here, go away!” you shriek through your clenched teeth, heading back inside, trying not to cry.

“I don’t care about what you want; this is my hideout too!” you hear him grumble and don’t care for the rest since you step inside the bathroom, closing the door. You are so ready for a shower and a bit of sleep to calm down the tension you feel in every muscle of your body.

15 minutes into it and J parts the curtain to the side, making you jump since you didn’t hear him sneak in.

“Make room, I want to take a shower too,” he commands, getting inside.

“Go take a shower in the other bathroom!” you plead, irritated he’s so inconsiderate.

“I like this one better!” he kind of shoves you to the side, getting under the warm water.

“Fine, you can have it!” you give up, grabbing your towel and step outside when he tries to snatch you.

“Where are you going? I wanna wash your hair!” he angrily yells after you, unhappy you’re defiant…again.

“I already washed it myself!” you slam the door and J continues his tirade, tossing shampoo and body wash bottles around the bathtub in his tantrum.  

I just need some peace and quiet, why can’t I have that? you think while resting your back against the door for a few seconds, sensing your anxiety is going to reach new levels soon.

The Joker took his time in there but now he’s finally done. He searches for you inside the cabin but you are not there. He peeks out of the window and notices you are dozing off on the couch to the left side of the porch, covered in blankets. Perfect time to rant some more, you are definitely going to hear about how much you annoyed him today!

But when he sees you are in a deep sleep, something stops him. The corner of the ultrasound picture sticks out a bit from under your pillow and he slowly pulls it out, glaring at it for a few good minutes before putting it back with a remorseful sigh. He takes a deep breath and grabs more blankets from the pile on the table and covers you with them, keeping just one for himself. J also brings the gun from the car and seats on the chair next to yours, awake all night because he believes a wild animal might creep up on you.

When the first rays of sunshine pierce through the thick fog, he finally loses the battle and closes his eyes, exhausted. He wakes up three hours later, wrapped in a dozen blankets, not feeling the cold he braved last night anymore; it gets so chilly in these woods after sunset.

He finds breakfast and hot coffee inside but you are gone again. Probably hiking at your favorite spot, J assumes, munching on a few goodies from his plate. You’ve been away for a while and he decides to search for you, he doesn’t even know why. You aren’t too far, just about a mile away behind the cabin, legs crossed in the grass, reading a magazine under your umbrella and enjoying the warm temperature. You hear him approach and you don’t lift your eyes up. He doesn’t say a word and just imitates your position a few steps away from you.

“What are you doing?” you coldly question him, not thrilled of his presence.

“Nothing,” The Joker barely bothers to answer.

You exhale, turning the page and fighting not to pay attention to his nonsense:

“You can’t stay in the sun, you know you burn easily,” you grunt, indirectly inviting him to get lost.

“So? Why do you care? Mind your own business!” and he lets himself go on his back, enjoying the hot sun.

“You’ll burn badly, go in the shadow,” J distinguishes your low voice urging him to move.

He ignores your warning and after a few more moments he opens his eyes to see your umbrella by his head, shielding half of his body from the sun and you walking away.

She’s so obnoxious, I really hate her, is the last thought he has before closing his eyes again and falling asleep shortly after since he’s so tired.

************

You are nowhere to be found. The Joker searched the cabin and around it but you vanished.

Good, maybe she fell from a cliff and my problems are done, he maliciously grins, relieved and hoping for his wish to come true, but after a few seconds the evil smile freezes on his lips as he notices your backpack is gone. And the small post-it on the fridge he didn’t see before makes him cringe:

“I’m going back to Gotham.”  

Crazy woman, walking alone in the woods, J growls, taking the car keys out of his pocket and heading outside.

*************

You discern the sound of the engine getting closer and closer and quicken your pace, not understanding why you can’t have a moment to yourself when you are very entitled to it. He passes you by and turns the car sideways, slamming on the breaks, gets out of the car and awaits your arrival, his blue eyes so dark it would make you hesitate on your decision.

Yet you avoid looking at him and attempt to go around when he rolls his eyes, fed up with your behavior and stomps towards you, lifting you up and slamming you on the hood, making you seat there against your will while you struggle to get down. J is blocking your way, not budging when you struggle to escape.

“Where are you going, hm? Are you really trying to get on my nerves?” he pins your hands behind your back, watching tears of frustrations forming in your eyes but you are too strong to let him win and swallow your vexation, finally looking at him.

“I’m walking back to Gotham,” you mutter, defying his blue gaze.

“It’s a long walk, Doll,” he pushes you up on the hood even more, making sure you can’t move.

“Why do you care? You don’t care about anything, not even…about…”  and you can’t control yourself anymore and start sobbing, thinking about the mean things he said to you yesterday that hurt you so much. J knows exactly what you are referring to and sucks on his cheeks, gulping, finally speaking up on the subject:

“I did care about that…”

You shake your head in denial, whimpering, dismissing his words so he repeats:

“I did care about that.”

“N-no you d-didn’t,” you cry harder and The Joker sets your hands free, backing out just a bit so you can slide down towards him.

“I did, I cared about that,” he insists, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm to point out the huge “ELLIS” tattoo on his forearm. “Why do you think I got the name on my skin and didn’t remove it? I will always keep it, do you hear me? I did care…” his voice breaks a bit and wipes your tears, lifting your chin up, forcing you to look at him again.

Ellis is the name you two picked for the baby when you found out you were pregnant, fit for a boy or a girl. You were so excited and over the moon you didn’t have patience to wait any longer. But it wasn’t meant to be…

Since you can’t stop crying and he grows impatient, J yanks you in his arms, hugging you while you want to push him away.

“I did care…” he continues to whisper in your ear over and over again until he feels your body relaxing and your arms go around his waist, hugging him back really tight. Since you still won’t stop crying, he caresses your hair, tightening his grip on you too. He senses tears menacing to roll down his cheeks but he brushes the awkward feeling away, because it’s not like him to show any weakness. Instead, he chooses to be The Joker and he has to admit to himself it really takes a lot of effort this time around:

“…Say, Princess, are we still divorced?”

“U-hum,” you manage to squeal, sobbing on his chest.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping to get some tonight,” and he kind of sadly smiles when you pinch his side.” Since I’m here and you’re here, can we at least have an affair?”

“Stop your stupid jokes,” you scold him, sniffling. He kisses your temple and helps you down, regaining his posture, but still holds your hand.

He seems surprised when you push yourself against his body and make him pay attention to what you have to say:

“You can lash out at me, but…” and your voice shakes ”…you can’t say anything mean about our poor baby, do you hear me?” There is so much pain and grief in your voice that he has no choice but to nod yes.

“Don’t ever say anything mean about Ellis… promise?” and you cup his face, waiting for the answer.

“I promise,” he agrees so fast he shocks himself.

“Good then, now you are allowed to drive me back to Gotham,” you announce and take your backpack off, going around the car to get in on the passenger’s side. “Did you lock the cabin?”

“I did,” J reports and can’t help bickering as he starts to drive away:

Allowed to drive you back, Pumpkin?! Like it’s what, a privilege??!!”

“Damn right it is!” you raise your voice and look out the window, ignoring the outburst.

“Pffttt, lucky me…” he grumbles but takes your hand and kisses it. You don’t object and scoot over towards him, silently leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kitten, are we still divorced? Or do you want your ring back? I have it in my jacket.”

“I guess you’re allowed to give it back to me when we get home,” you decide with an indifferent tone.

Allowed to give it back??! Like it’s what, a privilege??!” he mocks, taking the turn towards the main road.

“Damn right it is!” you elbow him and he frowns, aggravated:

“Pffttt, lucky me…”

“You are lucky!” you cut him off, lifting your eyebrows with an attitude.

“Maybe just a little bit…” he admits and it makes you smirk, clenching to his arm even more.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

Battling Insecurity

The biggest demon of most musicians is a feeling of insecurity. It’s the creeping (or blatant) suspicion that you are literally the worst musician in the world — or at least nowhere near as good as you “should” be. It can also manifest as the idea that you’re going to: get laughed at by your peers, be a complete failure at everything you ever attempt, be revealed as a fraud, find out everyone is just humoring you, find out that your doubters were right, end up completely destitute and have to live in a cave, or possibly just spontaneously die the next time you have to perform. It turns out that all of these worries are 99.999% of the time completely baseless. No, you are not that 0.001 percent case where these thoughts are accurate. Bassoonist Georg, who has never actually touched a bassoon and likes living in caves, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

The thing is that everyone feels like this, at least sometimes. I myself have, at the time of writing, complained at two different people a total of four times in the past week that I am going to end up living in a cave in the North Woods because no one will ever want to pay me for anything because I Suck. This is objectively not true. (You bought this book after all.) It may be a cliche, but there is a lot of truth to the thought that we are our own worst critics. There is no one else out there who knows your musical intent. If your trill doesn’t sound the way it did in your head, you are the only person who knows. Everyone else will think approximately this: “Hey, that was a trill. Cool.” If they’re especially persnickety, they might add “That was a little (better/worse) than when (you/someone else) sang a similar trill.” I don’t think there is a person out there who specifically goes to listen to a performance and thinks “This is awful and this performer is awful,” because most people are very nice. You are the only person there who thinks that you suck.

There are ways to battle insecurity, of course. Every performer develops a set of techniques to reaffirm their own self-worth, to calm themselves down, and essentially talk themselves down from the tree their anxiety has them hiding up. However, trial and error can take a long time, and you are going to need your self-esteem shored up a lot in the next year. With that in mind, here are suggestions from performers in college and beyond for how to manage insecurity.
Focus on things you’ve improved in the past year. When you start to worry about how obviously you’re no good and no one will ever want to listen to you etc. etc. etc., take a deep breath, then list three things you’ve improved in your playing in the past year. You have definitely improved at LEAST three, if not eight or nine aspects of your playing. Be as broad or as specific as you wish. This is about you acknowledging that you have grown and gotten better, so you choose the things on which to focus.
Listen to old recordings of yourself. If you absolutely CANNOT think of a SINGLE THING you’ve improved on in the past year (really? Not even your ability to play a single piece?), then go and listen to recordings of yourself from years ago. Find something you performed in when you were a freshman in high school (or, if you’re a freshman, see if you can find stuff from elementary school!). Go and listen to it, as critically as you can. It will probably make you cringe. That’s a good thing. Know why?
It’s because it shows you how much you’ve grown since then. If you fast-forward ten years from now, as long as you have kept playing, I can guarantee that future-you will listen to recordings of current-you with that same kinda cringey feeling. Because, in ten years, you will have improved so much that your current playing will be unrecognizable. And you will be proud.
Remember that the goal is improvement, not perfection. Music is not a race. Music is not a competition. Music is an art for self-fulfillment and self-expression. Perfection is impossible. Being “the best” is also impossible - there are seven billion people on Earth (and six in space (I checked!)). There’s always going to be someone out there who has practiced a little longer, or harder, or started earlier, or whose fingers are just a little closer to the perfect shape for your instrument. Your goal, then, should be to improve your own self - no comparisons to others, nothing like that.
Remember everyone comes from a different background. That person who sits to you in your ensemble, the one you’re envious of? You can’t know everything about their life. Maybe their parents started them on their instrument at age three. Maybe they haven’t gone out on the weekend in a year and a half because they practice then, or because they work to make up for not working during their practice time during the week. They could have a buttload of debt because of outside lessons. There’s no way to know what advantages or tradeoffs they’ve had to get where they are.
Once you’re at a certain point in life, there’s no way to add something to your life without sacrificing something else that you also like. If someone else practices X amount hours more a week then you do, then they spend X amount less doing something valuable to you - work, sleep, other homework, socializing, recharging, etc. They may simply have different priorities than you, and that’s okay.
Shut down the voice that compares people. Comparing yourself to someone else does nothing for you. Really. Unless you’re actively studying someone’s technique for educational purposes, comparing yourself to that 5th year senior, or that incredible freshman, does nothing for you. When you notice yourself doing the comparison thing, just shut it off. Practice rebuffing that voice.
“Sarah plays really well, yes. When I’ve played as long as she as, I’ll be better than I am now, too!”

Or!

“That freshman plays really well - I’m glad they had the opportunities they did.”

If all else fails, just look at these other people as motivation. Aspire to be as good as them, and use that to fuel your own practice. Just don’t let it spiral into beating yourself up. You’re worth more than that.
Directors have a vision. If you don’t match that vision, it’s not a personal failing.This is specifically in regards to auditions or chair seatings. Every musician has a different style and different technical abilities, and that’s okay. Sometimes your skill in a certain area may be amazing, but your tone just doesn’t match the rest of an ensemble. Or your sight-reading is great, but the director prefers someone else’s musical interpretation. That’s okay. There are ensembles where sight-reading is super important, and where your tone matches perfectly. You just have to find them, and you will eventually.
Make sure to take care of yourself. You can’t practice as efficiently if you’re sick. You can’t improve as much when you’re always exhausted. Trust me - due to an immune system that works about as well as a mall cop, I’ve spent on average eight weeks a school year feeling absolutely gross. I had to take an incomplete with my private teacher the first semester of my senior year of college, because I was so ill I could barely phonate (mono is a big ball of suck).
I’ve been better overall, however, since I started scheduling my sleep and food and socialization times. My calendar has nine hours of sleep scheduled in every night, I have phone calls and coffee dates with my best friends penciled in every week, and food is as regular as clockwork. Why? Because it prevents that nauseous, exhausted feeling of sleepwalking through a ten hour day. Hard days still happen, of course. However, I don’t spend nearly as much time cajoling myself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other anymore. Instead, I’m awake, engaged, and able to complain about things other than how tired I am. Progress!
Read up on Impostor Syndrome. Impostor Syndrome is when your brain’s resident jerkwad is constantly suggesting everyone you know is about to find out you’re a fraud. Who cares about any auditions you’ve successfully done. Who cares how good a grade you got last week. The jerkwad yells that you’re faking everything you’ve ever done, and people are going to figure that out, and then you’re going to end up living under a bridge and charging people tolls to cross it, and then they’ll figure out you aren’t even really a troll, and then you’re going to have join me in the cave in the North Woods and eat beetles and moss.
That jerkwad is a liar. Even I haven’t ended up in the North Woods yet, and I’m pretty sure I should list “Can BS Real Well” on my resume under Skills. You are a real musician - after all, you play music! That’s it. That’s all that’s required to call yourself a musician. I promise.

Science Aesthetics

I was feeling inspired last night, so I decided to make this purely for fun.

To the moon and back: Cold, dark nights clutching thermos flasks of hot coffee. Machinery whirring as telescopes trace a star across the sky. Intricate, geometric drawings of the celestial sphere. A messy bun and a NASA t-shirt. Filling in the logbook while punk rock blares in the background to keep you energised and awake. Pictures of nebulae and galaxies everywhere, because pretty space pictures is half the fun. Annoyed huffs every time someone mentions their star sign.

Natural Philosopher: Long, intellectual debates in coffee shops about mathematics, physics, philosophy. Chalkboards covered with equations and calculations in a precise, curving handwriting. That Eureka moment while deep in thought, expressed only with a small smile and a scribbled proof on the back of a serviette. Chaotic desks in front of bookshelves groaning with old textbooks. Antique lab equipment as functional decor.

Trust Me, I’m a Scientist”: Large computer screens running freshly-typed code. Neat lab books and PDFs of journal articles. The smell of whiteboard markers. Polished new equipment in a tangle of cables, hooked up to a digital oscilloscope. Exact amounts of chemicals in rows in metal shelves. Resting your feet up on the bench after a long day in the lab. The satisfying hum of your colleagues as they work on their experiments around you.   

Science Expedition: Dirt under your nails and a loosely-bound collection of field notes. Plant clippings carefully taken to be analysed back in the lab. Soft fur on tough, wild animals. The bitter smoke from eco-friendly firewood while you roast marshmallows and listen to a supervisor’s witty stories. Free-handing diagrams while looking through a microscope. Sketching flowers and that gorgeous ocean view from your last field trip. Reading Darwin on the bus home but falling asleep on your lab partner’s shoulder out of sheer exhaustion after the first three pages.

Life is a Science: Scrolling past an anti-vax facebook post and resisting the urge to burn down the internet. Shiny dissection kits and the sharp smell of formaldehyde. Making time to work out and pack a healthy lunch because your mind is sharpest when your body is well. Debunking the latest superfood fad with peer-reviewed journal articles. Making friends with some of the nicer med school kids in anatomy class. Colour-coded, neatly labelled diagrams and a thousand different terms memorised. Getting a double-helix DNA sculpture for your desk.      

What they show on TV isn’t real hacking: Rubbing your eyes after staring at a screen for five hours straight. Having a blank keyboard because all the letters are rubbed off already. Energy drinks in strange colours at strange hours. Being fluent in four different coding languages. Circuit boards and printouts. Ones and zeroes. Running jokes about turning everything off and on again. Rage-quitting when you realise you forgot a comma or a colon somewhere. Black screens with brightly coloured lines. The comforting click-click of fingertips tapping keys. Applying to intern at Google every three months because maybe they’ll take you this time. Writing a piece of code to do something simple just because.

dating stiles stilinski would include...

—being introduced to him by isaac

•though he hates isaac, he was glad for the beautiful soul he was introduced to.

•you are a shy and reserved person and he is friendly and tries too fast to get you to open up to him.

•"who is she?“

•for a few weeks, scott gets annoyed by stiles because you are literally all stiles talks about

•stiles asking isaac about a thousand questions about you, and you about stiles.

•"jesus christ, would you two just date already?”

—stiles and you work together and research at unholy hours of the night.

•"i’m so exhausted, how do you do this?“

•stiles chuckles at your tiredness.

•"lots of stamina without sleeping, for days at a time.”

•"i don’t even understand?“ you are yawning and falling asleep in your hands and jolting awake after dozing off

•after you fall asleep, your head resting uncomfortably on your arms, and your arms resting on scattered papers, he slowly picks you up.

•he takes you to his room where he slips you under the blankets and tucks you in, you’re fast asleep and he stays awake, drinking coffee to keep himself awake.

—waking up in his room, and you’re wondering what happened

•you walk down the stairs with his hoodie on because it’s so cold in the house

•he’s still awake surprisingly to you, and you walk into the living room where every piece of research is scattered everywhere

•"good morning, sunshine.”

•you blush at his nickname for you and bite your lip.

•"want something to eat or some coffee?“

•"sure”

—after that day, you begin to get closer to him

•it starts off with conversations before and while waking to class, and gradually turns into face timing and hanging out

•him wanting to know everything about you

•you wanting to know more about him

•playing twenty questions with each other

—being devastated when the nogitsune possesses him

•crying and begging to some higher power for him to come back to you

•the nogitsune finding it interesting how stiles is so in love with you

—running to him and crying when stiles comes back.

•"baby, shhh.“

•hugging him tightly and listening to his heartbeat.

•"stiles, you’re back!”

•"i’m back, it’s okay. i’m here.“

—spilling out all your feelings to him and him to you

•"i love you so much, y/n.”

•"i love you too, stiles.“

the foxes try to bond with Kevin by spouting random history facts at him

- Aaron watches lots of documentaries for the sole purpose of distracting Kevin with them because he swears to God if he has to go over exy stats one more time he’s going to snap someone’s racquet (he’s gonna snap Kevin’s racquet)
- Nicky learns just enough to throw general stories Kevin’s way but he makes sure to mess with some of the details because he thinks it’s funny when Kevin goes off on his rants,
- “no, NO, Nicky, no, it’s like this-”
- “sure, Kev, I mean /I/ believe you, but the internet says-”
- “THE INTERNET IS WRONG NICKY, WHAT ARE YOUR SOURCES???”
- Dan and Matt are pretty genuine for the most part, they’ll ask him stuff like “so is there any truth to the King Arthur tales?” but after 3 hours it gets to be a bit much and they’re going to be late for their dinner plans and “yeah ok, wow that’s so interesting, Kevin, oh cool, yeah hey we’re gonna be late. Oh, yeah? Wow I didn’t know that and now I do,, okay bye,,,,,”
- Neil and Allison will tell him a thing and then shut him down before he can comment on it
- “no Kevin, I don’t want to hear about the entire history of France now, i don’t actually care, I just thought that one thing was cool”
- Renee,, the sweetheart she is,,, will actually sit there and listen for hours on end,, she’ll ask him questions to keep him going,, bless her soul,, people ask her why she does it and she just tells them “you can see the way his eyes light up when he’s talking, it’s nice”
- and oh, Andrew. Andrew pulls stories out of his ass that sound just real enough that Kevin is like “no that’s… fake” but there’s the Doubt™. Kevin is seen awake at 3am later that night with an entire pot of coffee and his laptop open to 12 different tabs.

Ease - Part 6

Genreangst/fluff

Pairingreader/taehyung

Length: 3.7k

SummaryYou and your best friend Taehyung have recently got into the same university in the capital of Seoul. Hoping that this was your year to finally admit your romantic feelings towards your said best friend, uni seems an exciting prospect. But of course, the future never really goes according to plan.

A/N: i’m not very happy with this part and i’m sorry it took forever!! hopefully you like it anyway 💚   

Originally posted by jeonbase

1 ♡ 2 3 4 5 ♡ 6 ♡ 7 ♡ 8 ♡ 9 ♡ 10 11 ♡ 12 ♡ 13 ♡ 14 ♡ 15 ♡ 16 ♡ 17 ♡ 18 ♡ 19 - End ♡ Moodboard

“She ran up to me, full speed, and I was saying to myself, ‘I’m not prepared for this’. I had my arms open for her to jump into but I could tell that this was it, these were my last breaths…”

You sat back in contentment, listening to Yoongi’s story about his dog while laughing along with Hoseok. The three of you sat in the practice room in the early morning, with the sun streaming in through the small windows at the top of the high walls. This had become a routine for you: leaving the house before anyone had even woken up, going to the practice room, and hanging out with Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jungkook before you all left for lectures. Today was especially nice, as although it was slightly chilly outside, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the sun shone brilliantly.

“…and I fell straight into the wet mud, the dog still going mad. The worst part of it all was I could hear my crush laughing with her friends. And do you know what I said to her, trying to rectify the situation? ‘I have weak knees’. Could’ve said anything, and I chose that. Holly was still having a great time, while I sat in a bog completely humiliated. Smelt like manure for days.”

Neither of you could stop laughing, clutching your sides with the pain of it all. At that moment, Jungkook tottered in, carrying a tray with four coffees on top, one for the each of you. Although you came there every morning to practice, Hoseok used the time wisely by having group gossip sessions, urging you to keep him completely up to date with everything going on with Taehyung. Seeing as Yoongi was usually barely awake and Jungkook always struggled to stop yawning, they didn’t mind slouching against the wall, sipping coffee and listening to your conversation.

Normally, there wasn’t much to say about Taehyung, as the last few weeks had passed by without any drama. It’d all gone back to normal after seafood night at his house, as Taehyung was asking every other day to hang out, especially whenever Yeji was busy or when he had any important news to tell you. You’d even studied together like you used to, which although didn’t involve a lot of talking, just having him as company always made you feel better. That feeling was difficult to explain, as you knew Taehyung was firmly taken and his relationship was going swimmingly with Yeji. But that feeling would not go away.

Looking at your watch and sighing, you said goodbye to the others and made your way to your first lecture.


“My roots are showing! I need you to re-dye it!” pleaded Taehyung, pulling at your shirtsleeve like a toddler asking for attention. “I’ve got a date tonight and I don’t want to be looking shabby.”

Sitting at Taehyung’s desk in his room, you swung your feet listlessly, pretending to not hear his whines. Biting the end of the pencil, you flicked a page of the textbook you were supposed to be revising from, but the boy still prodding your arm was slightly distracting.

“Pleeease,” he begged, dragging out the word. “It won’t take long.”

“Get Namjoon to do it.”

You continued peering at your Korean assignment, which was an analysis essay on a book that was currently hidden somewhere around the house - thanks to Taehyung. However, a head began obscuring your view as Taehyung leaned over your shoulder, and you tried your hardest to keep your expression blank as he smiled cheekily. With is hair no longer hanging over his forehead, you could clearly see his black hair showing beneath all the orange.

Head hanging upside-down, he said amusingly, “You look like my aunt from this angle.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled, pushing his chest so he fell back onto his bed.

“Please do it for me. I’ll give you your book back?”

There was a moment of consideration where you wondered whether you could afford losing your book, just to wind up Taehyung, but then you thought better of it. “Orange again?” you asked, sighing heavily.

Taehyung bounced up from the bed, hugging you from behind and sticking his hair in your eyes, as if to prove a point about the colour. “Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shrugged him off, but didn’t attempt to hide the pleased smile on your face.

So the process began again, wetting his hair and lathering in the orange dye, making sure to get into his roots. He trusted you to do this properly, you thought happily, and the fact that he wasn’t at the stage where he wanted Yeji to see his roots made you feel even better. Taehyung had really been trying to keep up-to-date with your life after you called him out for leaving you, so it was only fair that you should try just as hard with his interests, despite the jealousy that burnt your blood whenever Yeji’s name was mentioned.

It was hard, swallowing your pride and helping Taehyung look good for Yeji. Whenever Taehyung asked if it was okay that he left to see her, you always took a deep breath and said ‘go for it’. Although this had been going on for weeks, it didn’t get any easier. Despite being his best friend, you still had to take a backseat and let Yeji have top priority over Taehyung’s time. To distract yourself, you’d ring Jungkook for an extra practice session or you’d ask Namjoon if he wanted to go shopping or you’d hang out with Yoongi and Hoseok at Cake Corner, which Taehyung was now calling the cupcake shop. It worked every time, until you’d walk home and realise Yeji was probably kissing him that second, or that they might be cuddling on the couch together. Then the sadness would return.

Taehyung closed his eyes in relaxation as you massaged his scalp, a silly smile playing on his lips as he hummed a song. Precious moments like this, you thought to yourself, make all this bitterness and heartache worth it.

“Y/N,” Taehyung began, his eyes still shut, “did you do anything this morning?”

Your moved your hands slower, slightly confused by his question. “Do anything? Like what?”

“Oh, you know. You might have gone out, or something.” His voice was nonchalant and seemingly innocent, but you knew Taehyung well enough to understand that he was never innocent.

“Yeah, I met up with some friends of mine.”

“Friends, as in plural?”

Stopping the massaging completely, you lay your wrists on his shoulders and stared at his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “What do you want to know, Tae?”

He shook his head, playing it off. “Nothing, don’t worry.”

Giving him a sideways glance, you finished up on the roots and whipped off your gloves, leaving Taehyung sitting on the stool in the bathroom so the dye could be absorbed. Just as you were about to leave, he added, “It’s just that Jungkook’s been going out early in the morning almost every day. I was just wondering whether he’d been meeting you.”

Something about the way Taehyung was talking brought up your defences, so your reply came out a little harsher than you intended as you span round to face him again. “Yeah, he has. Why, what’s wrong with that?”

Taehyung pursed his lips as his eyelids fluttered, looking slightly shocked at this new information. “Are you… seeing each other?”

“I just told you, I saw him this morning-”

“No, silly. Are you dating Jungkook?”

Taken aback, your mouth opened uselessly as Taehyung gawked at you, barely moving in his chair except for the slight movement of his chest as he breathed. What did he just say?

After you realised that he wasn’t going to explain his reasoning for his question, as he continued to stare blithely, you stuttered out, “No, no I’m not.”

“Good,” he nodded.

“Good?”

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I don’t want there to be any… miscommunications, like last time, you know? Those two weeks where you didn’t reply to me was hard, and I could barely sleep because of it. I want you to remember that you can tell me anything, Y/N. No more secrets.”

Leaving the bathroom with a heavy heart, you went downstairs to join the others, Taehyung’s words swimming around in your head. No more secrets. Although you knew that he was referring to your meetings with Jungkook, there was a bigger secret that plagued your mind. But you couldn’t tell him about that. Not now.

You weren’t even sure why you weren’t telling Taehyung about the dancing; it was either because you didn’t want him finding out about money problems or the fact that this was the first hobby you’d done without him. You loved Taehyung, in more ways than one, but dancing with Jungkook and watching Hoseok and Yoongi perform their piece distracted you from your troubles. It stopped you thinking about Taehyung.

However, you also found your mind deeply rooted in the other thing Taehyung had told you. Up until that point, you were unaware that he had found it difficult when you ignored him. As far as you were concerned, Taehyung was so infatuated with Yeji that he probably didn’t notice your lack of replies. When really, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.


“Taehyung going out with Yeji again?” Jin asked you softly, as you sat down meekly on the sofa next to him. There were definitely no secrets between you and Taehyung’s housemates, that’s for sure. When you nodded, he said, “You know, don’t feel like you can only come here to see Taehyung. You’re our friend now, and I think Namjoon wants you to help him keep Jungkook under control.”

Namjoon was currently sitting on Jungkook’s back as he calmly watched a programme on TV, stopping Jungkook’s outstretched hands from reaching the remote to change the channel. The younger boy lay flat out on the floor almost completely immobile, with only his head popping up occasionally so he could complain about crushed ribs.

“See you guys later!” Taehyung called, briefly walking past before disappearing out the door.

There was a chorus of goodbyes, but you all fell silent after he was gone. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but there was something different about the atmosphere. It felt forlorn and dejected, as if everyone felt sympathy for what you were putting yourself through. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed, as Jin spoke up.

“Right, I’ve had enough,” he said abruptly, causing Namjoon to slide off Jungkook’s back in alarm. “I can’t stand the pained look on Y/N’s face. You need to let yourself go tonight, and that’s not going to happen by staying at home and pining for that idiot Taehyung. No, you’re going out.”

“A-am I?” you faltered.

“Jungkook, go get ready. I’ll give you some money so you can go treat yourselves as a reward for how hard you’ve been working on your dancing. Y/N, stop looking at me like that. You need to have some fun, without Taehyung. Go on, get your shoes on. I’m taking you to the spring market.”


The whole drive to the market was a karaoke session, all three of you belting out the songs to whatever came on the radio. If none of you knew the song, Jungkook took his chance to announce that you were not going on a date.

“We’re just dance partners, having a night out,” he reminded you and Jin, idly fiddling with the volume on the stereo.

“Yeah, we understood the first seven times,” said Jin, laughing.

However, once Jin was gone and you two were alone, Jungkook relaxed and slung his arm over your shoulder, while talking about the market he always went to as a kid in Busan. Although you were worried that you weren’t going to have a good time, as you’d barely seen Jungkook outside the practice room or his house, you too found yourself getting excited once you saw all the lights and heard the music playing.

The spring market was an annual event held in your region of Seoul, celebrating the start of the academic year as well as the beginning of spring. Most of the stores sold food, ranging from traditional Korean dishes to a few international recipes that you recognised. Activities were set up along the streets to win prizes, and in the centre of the market was an outdoor cinema, with deck chairs set up in the grass ring. You could understand why Jungkook was so keen to establish that it wasn’t a date; the spring market was targeted towards couples. Flowers were sold at every stall, as well as plenty of chocolate, and everywhere you looked you could see people holding hands.

“White Day was over a month ago,” Jungkook complained, looking around at all the happy couples.

“Come on, grumpy boots,” you said, and pulled his arm towards the nearest stall selling tteokbokki. It was scary how quickly time had gone by, as it was now nearing the end of April, which meant you only had a month left until the dance competition. As this thought came into your head, you changed your mind about the food and moved to the next stall.

“Wait, I thought you wanted tteokbokki?” asked Jungkook. You were still holding onto his wrist, dragging him away from the tempting smell. “Why aren’t we getting any?”

“Because,” was all you replied. In the corner of your view, you could see Jungkook frowning, questioning your sudden decision, but you kept your focus diverted. His puppy dog eyes could rival Taehyung’s, so just one look would make you crumble.

“Is this to do with money?”

It was slightly unnerving how Jungkook could read you so easily. Although you didn’t respond, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later he returned, holding two portions of tteokbokki and chopsticks.

Handing you one, he said, “Tonight is the night to let go, okay? We’re going to win that dance competition and get you that money, I promise. Plus, this is Jin’s money we’re spending, so feel free to buy the biggest teddy bear you can find.”

You gave Jungkook a genuine smile in gratitude, before you both set off exploring the market. It was a warm night for April, so the two of you happily traipsed around, buying an unnecessary amount of food and failing miserably on the games to win prizes. Even though it wasn’t your usual film and pizza night, Jin was right: it took your mind off Taehyung. Jungkook was like him in many ways, but Jungkook was softer, gentler. But he was also more closed off. There was something about the boundaries he put up that made you wonder if you would ever get close to him. No matter how much you talked, you felt as if you didn’t know him at all.

With your mind distracted, you barely noticed that Jungkook had stopped walking until you almost bumped into his back. “Ahh, Jungkook! Why’d you stop? Aren’t we going to the refreshments stand?”

Jungkook stayed silent, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you around the side of a large tent, shielding you from the view of the main street. You now stood outside the main beam of lights, throwing you into the shade. You were… hiding?

“Jungkook, why are we behind the tent?” you whispered loudly, concerned about how tense he had become. His body was hunched over as he leaned his head around the corner, scanning the crowd, his hand still gripping onto yours tightly.

“Jungkook…” you began again.

“Taehyung’s here. With Yeji. And they’re close.”

“Why are we hiding?”

Jungkook turned to face you, no longer on the lookout. Although it was darker behind the tents, you could still make out the troubled look in his dark eyes. “Firstly, I don’t want to ruin their date. Secondly, you won’t have a good time if you keep seeing Taehyung.”

“He’s still my best friend,” you grumbled under your breath.

You felt Jungkook’s hand travel to your upper arm, which he squeezed in reassurance. “I know, but he’s not making you happy. You need someone to make you happy.”

Stepping round him, you copied his earlier movements and peered past the white canvas, immediately spotting Taehyung and Yeji sitting on a bench not far off, eating some sort of kebab. They were hip-to-hip, with Taehyung beaming in happiness at his girlfriend.

“Seeing him happy makes me happy,” you told Jungkook, as he hovered above you so he could have a look too.

“But-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as suddenly a strong body leapt into the side of Jungkook, almost causing you to fall over. Whipping your head round to find the source of the disturbance, you came face to face with a silver-haired boy that you knew all too well.

“Who are you spying on?” Jimin asked cheekily, craning his neck. “Ah, Taehyungie… and is that Im Yeji?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, before turning to Jungkook. “This is Park Jimin. He’s friends with Tae.”

“I can’t believe it,” Jimin muttered, ignoring the both of you. “She actually did it. I didn’t think she would, but she actually did it!”

“Did what?” you demanded.

Jimin tried to stop staring and turn to you, but his attention kept flicking back to the couple on the bench. “It was meant to be a joke, honestly,” he said shamefacedly. “I didn’t… are they actually a couple? Taehyung and Yeji?”

“Explain, Jimin.” You could feel your pulse rising as Jimin began stretching the back of his head in bewilderment. Whatever he was about to say did not sound good. Jungkook put his arm around your shoulder as if he could feel your unsettlement, the relaxed environment going sour.

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Jimin, seriously, spit it out. We’re missing out on the cinema, you know.”

He refused to speak for a few moments, his skin pale, but sure enough, he begun telling you a story. “Yeji fancied me, for the longest time,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. “The sort of crush that doesn’t go away, no matter how much you ignore it. She told me she loved me. But I wasn’t all that kind to her, and instead I laughed it off and told her to move on with her life. I was in a bad place, and I didn’t want anyone getting dragged into that. Let alone Im Yeji. She’s sweet, but she clings to people, and she just so happened to cling to me. So, I ignored the whole thing, for a while anyway, until she brought it up again just before we left for Seoul. Stupidly, I…”

Jimin paused, looking unsure whether to go on, but you gave him a hard look, indicating that he had no choice. Clearing his throat, he continued.

“Stupidly, I told her that she should date someone else. Obviously, she didn’t want to do that, but in the end I made a deal. I said… I said that if she were to go out with Taehyung for a few months, I would go out with her. It was a joke, I swear. But after that, she left me alone. I expected her to come back and tell me that she wouldn’t do it, she wouldn’t hurt Taehyung like that. If I’m honest, I forgot I even said it. But she’s actually dating Taehyung…”

“Why did you tell her to date Taehyung? Why would you hurt him?” you questioned, your voice beginning to tremble with rage.

“I needed her to move on from me so it was the first thing that came into my head, especially because Taehyung told me he liked her. It wasn’t serious! I even told her that she didn’t need to do it, and I would consider dating her later. Clearly, she didn’t listen.”

“This has got out of hand,” Jungkook said quietly and seriously.

“Perhaps they’re happy together, perhaps Yeji likes Taehyung too!” suggested Jimin, and simultaneously, all three of you looked over each other’s shoulders at Taehyung and Yeji.

For the first time, you noticed something. You’d been focusing on Taehyung’s grin for so long that you’d failed to look at Yeji’s, and with Jimin’s confession, you realised straightaway that Yeji’s smile was different. It wasn’t content and calm, nor was her body language. She sat tensely on the bench, her arms glued to her sides with a fake smile plastered on her lips. It was all forced. She wasn’t dating Taehyung for Taehyung.

She thought it would give her a chance with Jimin.

“Jimin, sort this out. Now.” It was difficult to restrain your anger, but a stone was lodged in your throat, the pain causing tears to stream down your cheeks. Your hands were locked together to stop you from lashing out. Yeji didn’t want to be with Taehyung… and Taehyung had no idea.

Jimin just backed away, also crying at his mistake. “I can’t, not right now, I’m not ready. If she comes back to me, I’ll just hurt her even more. I’m sorry.” Then he stumbled off into the dark.

You and Jungkook stood there for a few more minutes, not saying a word and just processing the events. Taehyung and Yeji had moved on and were no longer on the bench, but you didn’t feel inclined to follow. Jimin was an idiot, but you couldn’t believe that Yeji would be so thoughtless about Taehyung’s feelings. He was bound to get hurt one way or the other, and you couldn’t bear it.

“I want to go home,” you said to Jungkook, and then added, “alone.”

The walk was long and it started raining, but it didn’t matter. Having your heart broken by seeing Taehyung with someone else was manageable, but seeing his heart break was a whole other matter.
It would tear you apart.

Payback

Here you go, first one of the year! Hope you guys enjoy it, let me know what you think xx

***

Originally posted by ohmygoshharrystyles

There’s a quietness in the room that’s disturbing after all the noise and movement from the night before - you and Harry had come back from Cheshire after spending two weeks with his family for the holidays.

There was chatter and noise all around during those festive days and even though you had skipped a trip to the pub with his hometown friends, allowing him some time for himself and his pals, you had spent the best part of the night in a fierce game of Scrabble with Gemma and Anne, while Robin observed the three of you screaming your heads off about points and game rules you knew nothing about.

Now, back in London post an agitated New Year’s Eve night and after spending the night in your own bed, in the silence of yours and Harry’s place, you realize how much you’ve missed the silence and the calm of your home. Not that you didn’t have fun, you had plenty of that, but being able to snuggle into your boyfriend’s body and not worry about his mother barging in on the two of you is, in fact, a relief.

Your skin is sensitive from the cold and sleep is slipping away, the slightest brush of the covers is enough to make you stir, so, when Harry’s hands brush against your back and your bottom, to fit one of his legs between yours, that’s enough to bring you to consciousness.

“Harr- let me sleep!” You mumble, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and locking your leg around his hip, cuddling in as close as you can manage in your sleep induced stupor.

“Jus’ want a morning cuddle, ’s that so bad?” He croaks, voice rough and scratchy from sleep, his warm hand pressing to your lower back to bring you closer, if that was even possible.

“It is when you didn’t let me sleep with all your snoring…” You gripe, arm lifting up to wrap around his neck, your fingers burying into his soft hair.

“Oi! ‘S not nice!” He prostests, fingers digging into your skin to pull you closer.

It’s early and the room is chilly, the light from the morning slipping through the cracks of your bedroom window, letting you know there’s a new day. You and Harry are both on your sides, clinging to each other as if your life depends on it and you sigh contently – you’re both home at last and you’re ready to spend the next few days between the sheets, but for now, you just want to get back to sleep.

Even though your body is asking for it, it seems your brain is not ready to go back to resting just yet. It’s been minutes of silence and just feeling each other close, but you’ve become painfully aware of the smell of Harry’s skin, the soap and sweat mixed with his perfume enough to make you burrow closer and inhale deeply against his neck.

“What’s that, love?” He asks and you can hear the smile on his voice when you kiss the spot right under his ear.

“You smell good…” Sighing, you squeeze him, nails digging into his scalp when you try and pull yourself closer to him in a painfully tight embrace. Your hips roll forward, your core rubbing softly against his thigh that’s tucked tight against your center. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sensation. You know it’s ridiculous to feel so much from such a small rub, but it’s been so long… just over two weeks, actually, since the both of you had ben intimate.

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xerxia31  asked:

Esteemed everlark writer, cheerleader and fangirl extraordinaire @appleblossomgirl0305 completes another revolution around the sun on March 5th. Could I request a drabble to celebrate? She loves friends to lovers, and stories where Everlark adventures together discovering each other and building a relationship. And smut ;) Thank you thank you thank you!

Originally posted by creamphilled

Happiest of birthdays to you @appleblossomgirl0305! To celebrate, the incomparable @lvfics has crafted this wonderful morsel of Everlark, just for you. Enjoy!


Weekenders

Rating: M

It’s still light out when the doorbell rings. The sun sits low in the sky, warm orange light flows in from the large windows. Brought to her feet by the incessant ringing, Katniss opens the door to find Peeta standing in the hallway. His bright smile is overshadowed only by the greasy bag of cheese buns in his hands.

“You’re spoiling me,” Katniss says, stepping aside to invite him in.

“Get your own cheese buns,” he scoffs. “These are mine.”

She stares pointedly at him until he finally gives up the bag. With a laugh, Peeta kicks his shoes off and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. Katniss plops down next to him, biting into a steaming pastry.

“What’s on the agenda tonight?” she asks as he scrolls through the channels.

It’s become their ritual. Every weekend Peeta’s brothers invite everyone they know and trash the place with their round-the-clock party. Just the thought of it makes Katniss exhausted. So before the party hits full swing, Peeta makes his escape and spend the weekend with Katniss in her more modest studio. The whole thing started when she found him sleeping on a patio chair in the courtyard one Sunday morning and invited him in for breakfast. The following week he was at her door with a bag of cheese buns. Friends ever since.

“You need DVR,” Peeta says, landing on a cooking channel. “You’re living in the dark ages.”

“Nope,” Katniss says flatly. “Then you’ll never leave.”

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the signs as things i do with this blog
  • Aries: expecting notes & popularity
  • Taurus: drinking gallons of coffee because I need to stay awake all night and answer all of your compatibility anons lmao
  • Gemini: evily smirking at my hate comments & hate anons with a glass of champagne in my hand
  • Cancer: thinking about what new posts I should write while I'm out in town
  • Leo: being happy when a post of mine becomes way too popular
  • Virgo: correcting my typos
  • Libra: listening to chill music while writing some new crazy post
  • Scorpio: stalking some of you lmao
  • Sagittarius: not caring about trolls' opinions and actually doing my job no matter what
  • Capricorn: keeping a poker-face about all that hate I received from Virgos recently lmao (i still dont get it how have I offended Virgos)
  • Aquarius: coming up with very unique post ideas
  • Pisces: reading EVERY SINGLE COMMENT my followers have left on my blog (that's my fave thing tbh)

anonymous asked:

Heya can you do a bullet point of being best friends turned lovers with shawn and college life w him haha merry cmas

okay this is so long overdue I am so so sorry my love. so I’m going to make different segments for the different facets of college life (as I have experienced it) ALSO Shawn once said that if he weren’t a musician he would be a doctor so… MEDICINE STUDENT SHAWN IS BORN oh and one more thing the reader is smaller than Shawn but even boys are smaller than shawn BECAUSE HE IS A FREAKING TREE, I literally only know one guy who is as tall as Shawn… ANYWAYS ENJOY MY RAMBLING it’s really messy and all over the place…

  • studying on your own in the library, trying to get some work done, your friend quietly laughing next to you, pointing out the fluffy looking boy who can’t seem to stop staring at you, warm brown eyes observing you, a small smile playing on his lips. A blush spreading on his cheeks as he waves at you shyly. Your lips parting on a grin as you break eye contact to continue studying. 
  • A few chance meetings leading to an invitation to get a cup of coffee. The cup of coffee becomes a slice of pizza, which turns into a movie which leads the first official date. A semester after you first met he asks you out on a real date, stumbling over his words. He doesn’t want to ruin the beautiful friendship you two have but he also really really wants to kiss you. He whispers the last part afraid you only see him as a friend.
  • Agreeing to the date, “Of course I’ll go out with you Flushie.” “Stop calling me that.” you kiss his hot cheek, a satisfied smile appears on his face. He secretly really enjoys the nickname because you are the only one who calls him that. Very little time for dates leads to studying dates, he asks you questions about your major, you quiz him on human anatomy. Cheeky Shawn offering to show you where that particular muscle is. One night you start quizzing him and he kisses the corresponding bone. It becomes a game, a very frustrating game for you. You finally give in and climb into his lap and demand he take responsibility for his actions.
  • dark circles under his eyes, the smell of coffee clinging to him after ingesting 5 cups to stay awake. messy hair and tired fingers running through them. A slightly oversized college hoodie keeping him warm as he sits in library until closing time trying to stuff the information his demon prof requires into his exhausted head. He cannot let anyone down, you find him stressing over his notes forcing him to get some sleep. “It’s three AM Shawn… you need to sleep!” “But I need to ace it.” “You can’t ace it if you are falling asleep…”
  • sneaking him into your dorm, messy giddy kisses as the door clicks shut behind you. Thanking god that your roommate is gone for the weekend. Quiet breathy sighs, shushing each other when a surprised moan leaves you.Bumping and stubbing his toe against your bed, laughing at the ridiculous situation, breathless giggles leaving you as he whispers a string of curses.
  • Secret make out sessions in the library archives, dusty old books in the  basement, balancing your butt on the shelf as he kisses you breathless. Coming out of the basement, a thin layer of dust on the back of your shirt, ruffled hair from his fingers. A blush blossoming on your cheeks as the other students take in your rumpled appearances and know exactly what you did in the “Make Out Basement”

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO KEEP THIS PG-13??? 

PS I’m really sorry for it being so short my darling but I love college Shawn with a passion so I will definitely talk about this some more FORGIVE ME 

FicRequest: Knowledge is Power

FicRequest: Knowledge is Power
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 1053
Warnings: fluff, secret keeping
For @marvelbase001, just a slight variation of your ask


Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

“I know.”

This is how you announce your entrance into Tony’s lab. His head pops up from behind his most recently created machine.

“You know?” He asks, trying remain nonchalant.

“Yes, I know.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock you hip.

“How do you know so soon? Did FRIDAY tell you?” Tony stands and tosses a tool onto the workbench.

“That’s not important. The fact is that I know. Now what are we going to do about it?” You begin to pace, nervously nauseous.

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Can’t Sleep

Word Count: 544

Player: Sidney Crosby (Pittsburgh Penguins)

Warning/s: short, fluff

This is a repost of my own work!

Originally posted by ehghtysevenarchive

“You know that our fight was stupid right?”, Sid asked into the dark.

You were both already dressed in our Pj’s, lying in bed on opposite sides with your backs facing each other. 

“You’re just saying that because you can’t sleep.”, you chuckled, tired of staring out of the window. 

With a swift turn, you were able to actually see your fiance, leaning your head onto your arm.
Sid noticed your shifting and turned around as well, a small smile on his face.

“Maybe.”, he admitted, his eyes looking tired. 

You had fought for over an hour, right after getting up in the morning. After that Sid had hidden at practice and you had avoided each other until you went to bed separately. About an hour passed since then, an hour of complete silence while you were both sure the other one was still awake.

“But I have a game tomorrow. I need sleep.”, Sid whined playfully.

“And I am going out with my friends tomorrow. I need sleep too.”

“What? You’re not coming to the game?”, Sid was actually confused. You had been to every home game since the season started. 

“Someone”, you started, cocking an eyebrow at him, “told me I’m too involved with their business. So, I am officially un-involving myself.”

Sid’s jaw dropped, letting his head fall onto his pillow.

“You know I didn’t mean that. What am I supposed to without my lucky charm?”

“Maybe you can use a little bit of this talent that people always say you have.You’re too superstitious, love.”, you smirked before turning around again. YOU would be asleep in half an hour but he… different story.

“Babe, you are a mean human being.”, Sid muttered.

Without any warning his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his bare chest. You tried to get away, but he had his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.
After a few moments you stopped fighting against his arms and he immediateley loosened his grip, sighing into your shoulder. 

“You’re right. Our fight was stupid.  Although you started.”, you teased.  

You snuggled into Sidney, tangling your legs with his, which resulted in an amused smile.

“I’ll take that one.”, he admitted.

You always slept like that. Every night ever since you had stayed over at his place for the first time. And Sid, against your first thoughts, had gotten so used to it that he was practically unable to sleep without your shoulder as his pillow.

“Sid?”, you asked.

“Mhm?”

“What do you do on road trips? I mean… how do you sleep?”, you giggled into the dark of the room.

“I watch boring TV documentaries until late at night and drink a lot of coffee. Or I annoy Geno most of the time.”, Sidney answered.

“You annoy Geno?”

“Yeah. I just keep him awake. Talk about the game or you or anything. I know I’m the captain and I should be responsible but I just want someone that’s as tired as me in the morning. And Geno doesn’t usually sleep a lot.”, he grinned.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“But you love it. And now sleep!”

“Aye Aye, Captain.”