dreading the morning

“what is love? how did you know you were in love with him?”

“i guess i knew i was in love with him when his bad days became my bad days. when his good days became my good days. i don’t know, i never met anyone like him before. i guess i knew i was in love when i wish it would storm so i could see him become excited about something he loved. so i could see him smile. i guess i knew i was in love with him when the thought of him leaving scared the hell out of me. i guess i knew i was in love with him when i would roll over to the other side of the bed and reach for a hand that wasn’t there anymore. i guess i knew i was in love with him when losing him felt like losing a friend, best friend and boyfriend all in one. i guess i knew i was in love with him when i use to dread the morning but somehow wanted to wake up to it everyday. i guess i knew i was in love with him when my days suddenly became more quiet. i guess i knew i was in love with him when the thought of him never left my mind even though it’s been a year. i guess i knew i was in love with him when i wasn’t the best version of myself the way i was with him. he made me feel like i knew what love was. he made me feel like i was worthy of a type of love they talk about in movies and fairytales. the closest thing we have to magic is love and with him.. magic was our love. magic was us. magic was him. it’s always going to be him.”

—  I think that’s love // Deeply Feeling Series 
Makeup Tutorial For Trans Women

Hey loves! I’m about eight months into my hormone replacement therapy journey, and for the longest time I’ve been searching for the right makeup look. For months I wore full face makeup with eyeliner and lipstick on the daily (and that is totally fine for you to do as well) but it got to a point where I dreaded getting ready every morning. It wasn’t good for my skin and sometimes it did the opposite of what I intended it to do, for I kept getting misgendered. So I learned to start doing less; I feel better about my skin, and I am able to pass much easier. And although I know for some of you passing is not a concern, I am aware that for others passing is a matter of safety and security.

So let’s get into this makeup look!

First things first, priming is very important!! Now I know from paying hormones and other things I have to do financially, I have a pretty tight budget. However, through the help of the internet and some makeup YouTubers, I’ve discovered this very cheap primer. It’s NIVEA for Men Sensitive Post Shave Balm ($5). It works like magic, and it is cheap! The glycerin in the formula helps your makeup stay on all day long. Also, I shave my face right before doing my makeup, therefore an after shave balm really helps. You’ll kill two birds with one stone!

Next up, I like to color correct my five o’ clock shadow, which is mainly my upper lip and chin area. I use Wet n’ Wild MegaLast Lipstick Just Peachy ($1.50). Because my facial hair has a blue-ish undertone, I am using an orangey/peachy color before my foundation to cancel it out. I apply and blend it out with my middle finger.

I like to let it sit for a bit, so to save time, I move on to concealing/highlighting/priming- all with one product! And that is the Maybelline Instant Age Rewind Eraser Dark Circles Treatment Concealer, Neutralizer ($7). I apply it on the bridge of my nose for a subtle highlight, under my eyes for brightening, and on my eyelids for priming the eye makeup!

So once I look like I belong in The Lion King, I use a damp Drugstore Beauty Blender ($4), and blend it all out with patting motions. Be gentle, but really work in the products.

Viola! So now we move onto foundation! I used to wear liquid foundation every day, but I found that it was drying and too cakey for a daily look, so I moved on to bb creams! An lawddddddd, they work wonders! It’s light and breathable, yet is buildable and can cover up problem areas, such as the peachy orange color concealer I use. My current favorite is Maybelline Dream Velvet Soft Matte Hydrating Foundation, 90 Honey Beige ($9). I apply it with my fingers all over my face except for the color corrected areas. I will get to that after with a different application!

I learned that it is not necessarily what brand of makeup you use that makes you look incredible, but the techniques and the brushes are what will do you wonders! So for the bb cream I am using E.L.F’s Powder Brush ($3), which is meant for dry products, but the density and surface of the brush makes for a perfect buffing brush. So blend that in!

Now all you are left with is your upper lip area and chin area that has the peachy tone lipstick on it. So what I do is I take more of that bb cream, and put it on my middle finger, and apply a generous amount on top of the areas. Afterwards, I use the bottom part of my beauty blender and pat that in, making sure to blend out the edges so I’m left with one unison color for my foundation.

Yay! Foundation is all complete! Now because there is quite the thick layer on my upper lip and chin area, I need to set it so it does not move or smudge throughout the day. So what I do is I use Coty Airspun Loose Face Powder, Naturally Neutral ($5) with my beauty blender, and pat a generous amount on my chin and upper lip. This is called baking, where you let the powder cook the makeup and set it really well.

Can’t forget about the rest of the face! So what I do is I take a little amount of that loose powder and apply it mostly on the highlighted areas, such as the under eyes, and the bridge of my nose. But this time, I use a little bit and blend it in really well. Because the deweyness of the bb cream is lovely, and you don’t want to take that away!

While I bake, I like to move on to the eyes. I start with highlighting beneath the brow, with Nourishing Long Wear Eye Shadow + Built-in Primer, Classic Nude ($8). I take the top pinkish highlight color with my ring finger and apply that under my brows for a nice shimmery highlight.

Next, I move on to the eyeshadow, which will actually be the bronzer that I use. I like to keep the eyes simple and nude neutral, for a more natural look. I bought Wet ‘n’ Wild Color Icon Bronzer, Bikini Contest ($3) bronzer at the dollar store, and it is by far one of my favorite bronzers to date! I will apply it with E.L.F.’s Eyeshadow “C” Brush ($3) and pack it on my eyelids. After, I use E.L.F.’s Blending Brush ($3) and blend out the edges to smoke out the eyeshadow.

Next, I highlight the tip of my nose, inner corner of my eyes, and cheekbones with ColourPop’s Glo Up Highlighter ($8), all with my ring finger. It has a more thick powder consistency, and I find using my finger to be the easiest method.

The reasoning for highlighting is that because we have concealed, applied foundation, and powdered our face, adding shimmer brings back a glow to the face. Also… highlighters are so pretty! 

So the next step is to dust off the powder on the chin and upper lip with a very light and fluffy brush.

Now, I move on to contouring/bronzing. I like to use one single product to do the job. Contouring and then bronzing is too much work, and I’m not going for a night time party look, therefore a warm and bronze glow will do the job, if done strategically. I use E.L.F.’s Complexion Brush ($3) and the bronzer earlier and work it right above the natural hollow of my cheekbones, and blend it in in circular motions, whilst blending in the highlight on the cheek too, to make one uniform look.

Don’t forget the forehead, sides of the nose, jawline, and down the neck. I also blend some on the upper lip and chin because the powder earlier can make the areas look slightly ashy. Blend, blend, blend! Very important!

For my eyebrows, I like to use Maybelline Volum’ Express The Rocket Mascara ($6) because it darkens my brows, and the waterproof formula keeps it in place. Eyebrows frame your face, they are very important, so experiment to see what works best for you!

You can honestly end right here, but I like to do mascara. I find that applying mascara on my eyelashes helps feminize my eyes. Take a looksie!

As you can see, simply curling them makes a big difference. Now let’s apply the mascara! My favorite is L'Oreal Paris Voluminous Miss Manga Mascara, Waterproof Blackest Black ($6). Unfortunately, my genetics did not bless me with the best eyelashes, but this mascara knocked me off the park and gives me length I never thought I could have! Look at the difference in the two eyes.

I focus the mascara mostly on the outer corner because it almost gives it a darker smokey/gradient eye look. Now do the same for the other eye and we’re almost done!

For the lips, I like to line them with Rimmel 1000 Kisses Stay On Lip Liner Pencil, Café Au Lait ($3), and fill them in with CoverGirl Lip Perfection Lip Stick, Sultry ($2)

Because I’m going for a more naturalistic look, I like to make the lips more matte. Here’s the trick: You take a tissue paper, put it over your lips, and use a fluffy brush and a loose powder and lightly brush it over my lips for a matte effect.

AND YOU’RE DONE!!

Now finish up getting ready, and live your life!

You can either add more, or take it all off. At the end of the day, your makeup is your own art, so go with whatever you are most comfortable with!

chocolatelovingtmntgirl  asked:

Hey, do you know any good fics with a hurt/sick Yuuri and a worried Viktor and Yurio?

Thank you for these requests! Sick fics are my guilty pleasure… I have a bunch that I think you’ll like!


Sick Yuuri/Victor


The Fundamentals of Caring by braveten, Explicit, 20k
One of my favourite hurt/comfort fics! Yuuri comes down with a nasty cold and Victor tries to take care of him the best that he can. Full of hilariously delusional Yuuri, caring Victor, and ALL THE FLUFF! So cute, definitely recommend!

Breakfast in Bed by glim, Gen, 1.6k
“You have a cold,” Viktor confirms. “And I have breakfast for you.” SO CUTE OMGOMG

Snowglobe by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox), Teen, 3.2k
So skinny dipping in a rooftop pool in the middle of a Russian winter may not have been the best idea. Sick Victor and caring Yuuri. What’s not to love?

Arrivals by youaremarvelous, Not Rated, 6.7k
Yuuri falls ill shortly after moving to St. Petersburg. With Viktor away on a sponsor meeting, it’s up to the Ice Tiger of Russia to nurse him back to health. Yurio helps Yuuri….OMG I LOVE THIS

re: the common cold by celestialfics, Teen, 1.8k
Even though Viktor is insufferable when he’s sick, Yuuri can never really refuse him. Sick Victor! Thumbs up!

Practice Is Cancelled by Arisprite, Gen, 4.8k
Victor gets a cold, and the Katsuki family is there for him. LOVE!

Medicine by hanatchii, Mature, 1.7k
Yuuri has had an unshakable fever for the past few days and Victor is determined to make him feel better in one way or another. Highly recommend!

Fever Gold by fleurofthecourt, Teen, 3.3k
This cannot be happening. He cannot be sick right now. There’s a crowd around him chattering and cheering in at least seven different languages, and an announcer calling him to the center of the rink. Definetly recommend!

Under the Weather by ProcrastinatingPalindrome, Gen, 1.3k
Victor spends his 28th birthday in bed with the flu while Yuuri fusses over him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem too upset about this. Pure fluff!

Sniffly Morning in Barcelona by Jenny33Wren, Gen, 2.7k
The sniffling started sometime in the middle of the night. Victor had been too hopped up on adrenaline after the day’s events to sleep soundly anyway, and Yuuri’s progressive symphony of sniffles and little strangled coughs meant by the time the sun came up, they had both been silently awake for hours. Cute!

Two Minutes by GooberFeesh, Teen, 1.4k
Even though Yuuri knew it was just a cold and that it could have been much, much worse, it didn’t really eliminate the feeling of dread when Viktor awoke two mornings ago to a sore throat, stuffy nose, and tight chest. Domestic fluff! LOVE!

Insult to Injury by glim, Gen, 8k
Almost a whole week alone with Viktor might not be worth one of them made victim to a sprained ankle and both of them to a winter head cold, but maybe it is worth all that, at least in some small way. Great sick fic!


The lovely Victor sneezing gif is created by @victuri-onice! Check out their blog!

My whole problem with the “I do makeup for ME! I’m EMPOWERED when I put on makeup!” discourse is that it completely erases the fact that women aren’t actually given the ability to MAKE that choice. It’s impossible to say that you’re doing it for self empowerment, or that “if it wasn’t so much fun I wouldn’t do it” because that’s just not true. Women who enjoy doing their makeup and women who don’t enjoy doing it both have equal pressure to wear makeup. Whether you enjoy the process or not, you will be taken less seriously as a woman, valued less, respected less, considered ‘unprofessional’ at work, etc. if you choose not to wear makeup. Men aren’t faced with the decision to get an extra hour of sleep or to be taken seriously. By writing it off as a cool empowering fun thing women do as an exciting entertaining hobby we’re just…. erasing the entire institution of makeup and of beauty standards that seriously harm women. If you enjoy doing makeup that’s great, that’s fine, and you should keep it up! But wearing makeup in the first place wasn’t ever your choice. We don’t GET a choice. I hate people saying “oh you don’t have to wear it! If you don’t like makeup don’t put it on!” As if I’m expected to just be cool with the way the world will treat me if I don’t conform to modern beauty standards! If you’re worrying about your eyebrows or lip plumpness or skin tone evenness that’s not you making a free willed cool decision to feel insecure and concerned about facial features that men never have to think twice about. That’s you thinking in a way you’ve been trained to think! And people wanna pretend that putting on makeup is Empowering… what the hell is empowering about making a choice that’s been forced on us since we were old enough to be seen as sexual objects lmfao… that’s bullshit that doesn’t empower me and having to give up valuable time and money and energy that men are never asked to give up makes me feel like shit!! It makes me miserable! It makes me dread every single morning because I know I’m gonna be putting forward all this bullshit labor just to exist and be taken seriously in my stupid body

Whipped…boyfriend!!! (PT4)




Y/N likes to think everything had gone back to normal after that dreadful morning. Harry hasn’t touched the subject, and he seems to be doing fine. She likes to think everything is okay, maybe he was just having an unpleasant day and there’s no point at even asking about it and upsetting him all over again. But she can’t erase the image of his body racking with sobs, eyes pleading and repentant. 

She wants to be able to get past it, but her mind keeps going back to how she’d cried silently while he was in the shower. How every minute that passed, sat alone on his couch, all she could think about was that there was a possibility that when Harry came out, he would tell her that he couldn’t anymore. He’d break her heart with words of ‘still wanna be your friend. We can still be best friends, like we were b'fo’.’ But it wouldn’t be like before.

She wants her mind to forget his gasps of ’m'sorry, love. M'so so sorry.’ But it’s like they’re forever etched into her brain. And every time she looks at his sleeping body next to her in the morning, it’s all she hears, those words.

So no, everything is back to normal in terms of appearances, but she’s been having an inner battle with herself that hasn’t let her sleep at night.

It’s been about two months or so since Harry’s breakdown. They’ve kept to their daily routine; breakfast, work, the occasional surprise lunches, and dinner among other things; but they don’t talk about it. And it’s like when she tries, Harry diverts the conversation to how thrilled he is to start Dunkirk promo, and of course Y/N can’t press the subject when Harry’s got a wide smile on his face, happy to recount and retell moments on set.

And though she still couldn’t forget about it, she’d enjoyed breaking routine, especially for the beautiful scenery that was a wedding in Hawaii. Harry had been a ray of sunshine. He had introduced Y/N to the few amounts of people that hadn’t met her yet. Some of them were interested enough to ask how Harry, a lad who didn’t often engage in proper relationships, had managed to pull such a beautiful lass. Y/N admits she’d gone a light shade of red at the comment, never one to confidently accept compliments, and Harry just wouldn’t shut up about her after that. Not until Y/N playfully slapped his arm after he’d brought up how she’d made him think she was going out with some other bloke, blatantly lying to him to his face.

He’d played about with a sweet little girl who’d taken a liking to him, boop'ing her nose and faking having tripped over something when she was chasing him, letting her tag him only for her to end up trapped in his arms. And she loved seeing him so content.

She loved the short stories everyone had to tell about a too drunk Harry who cuddled anyone from a friend, to a plant he thought was a friend. 

She can’t deny that she’d loved that he was showing her off too. Especially when his friends would make a comment about how whipped he was, which only made him smile wider as he kissed her hand (and she’d squirmed and giggled because his stubble did tickle some). 

It’s safe to say that by the end of that trip, everyone and anyone who’d watched Harry mindlessly kiss Y/N’s temple, arm slung around her shoulder whilst talking with his friends, were convinced they were it for each other. 

She had never really attended a wedding with him before either. And she realised that there was something about getting to see him in that setting that had her wanting exactly that for them one day.

So one can only imagine Y/N’s excitement when Pixie’s invitation arrived. She’d jumped at the idea of going to Spain, and being Y/N, Harry couldn’t deny her that. 

And now here they are. Watching the sun set over beautiful waters; rays of orange and yellow and blue adorning the sky. 

It doesn’t take much to convince Harry for a picture. All she really had to is smile at him and he was putty in her hands.

“Say cheese.”

“Wanna look sexy." 

"Harry! Just, show me those pearly whites." 

"Jus’ take the picture, love.” He’s adamant. 

“Harry.” Her tone monotonous, a hand at her hip like it as she glared at him, a smile playing at her lips.

“Wanna look cool, babe.” He chuckles.

She rolls her eyes, huffing jokingly and holding the phone up horizontally.

And though he’s not exactly smiling, Y/N can’t think of a better way it could’ve come out. 

***

Today is nothing short of a fairy tale for Y/N. Her arms around Harry’s necks. And Harry’s hands on her waist, swaying to none other than “Song Bird.” He takes to whispering the lyrics to her ear, and he can feel Y/N’s smile widen when she buries her head in his neck. 

Harry likes to think he’s a good dancer, even though he tries to abstain from any. But with Y/N, it’s different. He’d only halfheartedly tugged his hand back from hers when she’d tried to pull him up and off his seat, smile much too sweet to actually deny her of a slow dance. And although usually he has to have some amount of alcohol in his system to confidently show any of his moves off on the dance floor, Y/N has him spinning her around gracefully.

When the song nears the end, Harry gives her waist a squeeze before pulling away and taking her face in his hands, firmly pressing his lips to hers in hopes he could convey and express every ounce of love he was for her in that small gesture.

“Ye’ look beautiful, pet,” he whispers, lips grazing hers, pouting just the slightest for them to meet in a chaste kiss, “always look beautiful.”

“You’re too much,” she giggles, fingers wrapped around his wrists.

Harry can only press another kiss to her mouth, too drunk on love to care about anyone watching. 

***

Harry and Y/N are sat back at their table now. He’d groped at her hip and plopped her on his lap after the ninth song when Y/N began to complain about her feet hurting from walking around all day in heels. He’d moved her hair to fall over her shoulder and kissed across her back and at the exposed flesh of her neck. They stay like that for a while until he pats the side of her thigh, at which point she moves to her own seat. Silently, he gestures for her to lift her legs, and then grabs her ankles and brings her feet to lay on top of his lap. One by one he unstraps and slips off her heals and proceeds to dig his thumbs into the dip of her foot, alternating between the two. And Y/N can’t help but look at how her boyfriend’s brows furrow in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips as he works to ease the tension in the muscles. She hums at the touch, Harry smiling in accomplishment, and squeals when he starts tickling. 

“Went from a whipped friend to a whipped boyfriend! S'a step up Harold!” Grimmy pats his friend’s back, a lopsided smirk with a clear intent to insult plastered in his face.

And it’s certainly not helping that he’s helping her strap her heels back on. But again, he doesn’t mind being whipped.

It wasn’t the first time tonite that he’d made the remark either. He’d made it a game actually. The first was while they were conversing with Lou. Grimmy had cheekily strolled past them with a smirk and whisper of ‘whipped’. The second, Y/N was at the fruit bar helping herself to a plate, and Harry kept feeding bits into her mouth as she went about picking what she wanted. He’d offered to take her plate back to the table while she reached for the cutlery, and though Grimmy might have not meant for her to hear it, she still caught the faint ‘whipped’ directed at Harry. The third had been the most embarrassing, at least for her. They had been chatting to an elderly couple, the husband retelling of a vacation he’d surprised his wife with only to find out that cruises weren’t her cup of tea when she wouldn’t come out of their suite bathroom because even though it was smooth sailing, her tummy just couldn’t handle it. At one point Harry had perfunctorily brought up their intertwined hands and pecked at Y/N’s knuckles. Grimmy had, yet again, silently walked up behind them and sing-songed ‘whi-hipped’, at which point Y/N swung her arm around, overestimating her aim, and socked him where she thought would have been his shoulder but was really his neck. Harry had doubled over in laughter at that. Even the wife whose eyes had gone wide couldn’t hold back. After that, Grimmy didn’t bother him any, only playfully shot her a glare when their eyes met.

“Nice t’ see ye’ too, ass.”

Despite his comment, Grimmy leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I’ll take tha’ as an invitation t'sit down with m'favourite couple." 

"Grimmy’s just jealous he’s got no one to rub their feet." Was it childish that Y/N stuck her tongue out at him? Maybe so, but that’s how their friendship works.

"Oh no sweets. Even if I did m'not touching anyone’s stinky feet.” Dry humour’s always been Grimmy’s specialty.

“Ye’ really are a catch mate,” Harry jabs, taking a swig from his water bottle. 

Grimmy narrows his eyes, “s'tha’ the same outfit ye’ were wearing not even two weeks ago, 'arry?”

“Heyyyy!” Y/N chimes, scolding Grimmy with the sternest face she could pull, “s'my favourite suit of his.”

“Yeh, s'her favourite suit of mine,” Harry mocks. And they all laugh.

After that, any intention Y/N had of staying sober went out the window the second Grimmy came up with the brilliant idea of a game where they’d have to take a shot every time George kissed Pixie. 

You’d think she’d turn it down after the last time she’d gotten sloshed and the fact she’d vowed to take it easy when she did decide to drink. But Grimmy had called her a ninny because ‘s’okay if ye’ can’t handle ye’ liquor, babe.’ And even if she couldn’t, which she thinks they both know he’ll probably end up the winner, she’s certainly not gonna give him the satisfaction of not even trying.

But now, looking back at it, 6 shots in and already feeling it, Y/N really should’ve known better, should’ve thought before hastily agreeing. Of course the bride and the groom are expected to share kisses various times throughout the night at their wedding party. And it was so like Grimmy to demand they kiss every ten minutes, Harry laughing and nodding his head in amusement, or disapproval, Y/N’s not entirely sure at this point.

But she does have to admit she’s having a grand time dancing to “The Time of My Life.” Harry dancing circles around her with his arms up, mouthing along and shoulder shrugging to the beat, an immense smile on his perfect face. She throws her head back in amusement, laughing lively. 

She secretly thanks the heavens that Harry isn’t partaking in any drinking, choosing to stick to water, allowing her to use him as leverage whenever she begins to stumble. 

“Okay, think she’s had enough, Grim,” the comment comes when Grimmy tries to hand Y/N another drink, only for Harry to take it himself and set it at the edge of the round table, away from Y/N who’s got her head on his shoulder and is beginning to fully lean into him from exhaustion. 

“Oh, poo, you’re no fun.” He sticks his tongue out at his sober friend before excusing himself when it’s announced that it’s time for cake.

“Feeling a'right, pet?” His thumb rubs circles on her palm where their hands clasp atop his thigh. 

“Hmm.” Her hooded eyes open a tad slighter when she feels his lips press a kiss to her head before pressing his cheek against her hair. "Yeah. Need to use the bathroom though." 

"C'mon, then.” He takes her hand into his, careful in helping her up, his free hand at the small of her back to steady her.

“M'fine, babe.” She smoothes out the wrinkles on the skirt of her dress and grabs her purse from the table. 

“Ye’ sure? Don’ mind going with ye’." 

"I’ll be fine.” And the giggle emitting from her mouth when she pecks at his exposed chest can’t be any more endearing. He watches her walk past tables of guests, a breath of relief to see she’s good on her feet despite the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.

He sits back down, singlehandedly undoing another button on his shirt as he brings his arm to rest on the back of the chair Y/N was just sitting on. 

And then…

Harry never thought he’d be seeing her face again. It took him a while to control his paranoia, his hyperactive mind conjuring up what he thought to be every possible scenario in which Y/N finds out about what he did. But not this one. 

It catches him completely off guard, his body stiffening at the sight. What throws him off even more is when she spots him and begins making her way to him.

The closer she gets, the farther he wants to get away. 

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.” Her voice sends shivers down his spine. She’s looking at him with…desire? It’s all unappealing if he’s being honest. It feels like she’s trying to lure him in, the way her eyebrow is raised, eyes a bit squinty as she struts closer. He’s making it clear he’s uncomfortable, and if she realizes this, she doesn’t show it, and it doesn’t halt her either.

How was he to know she was a childhood friend of the groom? He’d never seen her at gatherings before that unfaithful night, but in retrospect, he too is guilty of going an endless amount of time without talking to his childhood friends. Harry thinks this is the universe’s way of punishing him for not coming clean. 

His brows furrow in concern. Y/N will be back any second and he’s sure she’ll ask who this woman standing before him is. And it could go one of two ways. 

Harry can introduce her as a friend, but that’d be betraying Y/N on a whole other level. Introducing the woman he slept with to his girlfriend. But he can’t do that. He won’t.

Or. Or what if this woman has the audacity to bring it up. What if Y/N finds out in the worst way possible. 

His hands are sweating in his pockets, body tense. 

“Left so early that morning. Didn’t even stay for breakfast.” The smug look on her face has Harry’s tummy twisting, and he really wants to slap her hand away the second her fingers make contact with the fabric of his suit, fingers running over at the lapel.

And he should stop her right there, but his throat is dry and he’s afraid the second he opens it to add how much of a mistake it was and that he has a girlfriend, is the moment Y/N over hears the conversation.

“You’re a good fuck, you know. Best I’ve ever had." 

He knows she’s trying to get a response out of him, anything that might assure her that he’d had a good time too. 

But he’s not able to get anything out when he notices her stare trail behind him.

"Harry.” Her voice just above a whisper, the sound of heels clicking against the ground growing closer.

No. No no no no. 

the universe of us.

“I love you.” — “I know.”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader | kim taehyung x reader
genre: slight comedy, angst, fluff
type: dream / fantasy / slice of life au
word count: 21,112 words
warnings: none
author’s note: thank you to the true mvps @zephyoongist​, @gukstudio, and @syubits for all their aggressive motivation through means of screaming at me to continue dragging myself through this wild ride until the completion of this nightmare monstrosity. the italicized quote mentioned in this was said by dr. suess. i wrote this while listening to this song, so i hope you listen to it as well while reading for the full experience.

nefelibata : (noun) lit. “cloud-walker”; the one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams

The story of Icarus tells of a naive being who loved the sun and flew too close, leading to his untimely descent into the ocean. But what the tale didn’t speak of was how the sun and the moon fell in love with him, too. And with the pull of the tides due to the attraction of the sun and the moon, he tosses and turns, torn between two entities.

So if Kim Taehyung embodies the sun, then Jeon Jungkook is the moon.

And you are Icarus.


In a realm of pointless illusions and shadows of reality, dreams are not something you tend to dwell over. Some say it is within dreams where your selfish desires, wants, hopes, and subconscious manifest into a tentative form. As a lucid dreamer, you absolutely enjoy delving into illusions of roaming the boisterous halls of Hogwarts or taking flight into the air as you stretch your fingers out and almost touch the second star to the right.

You never actively try to find the hidden meanings behind the imagined moments that play beneath your eyelids and find purchase within the secret crevices within your mind. There simply is no point in doing so when they are not seen as an escape from reality because you are more than satisfied, daresay happy even, with the way your life is.

You found happiness within a circle of trustworthy and wonderful friends, a stable and amazing job that you actually do not dread going to in the morning, a beautiful and spacious apartment, and to top it off, a very cute and lovable dog named Soonshim whom you are a proud parent of with your boyfriend. More so, after all, you know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. And you are completely head over heels for a certain Kim Taehyung.

But then you find yourself slipping between the stratums of real and make-believe, existence and reverie, day and night under the guise of slumber and fantasies, thrown headfirst into an entirely new life that leaves you confused and chasing after something—or rather, someone—who is more than just silly daydreams and butterflies.

Keep reading

When Chasing Love (NSFW 18+)

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

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

Word Count: 3847

Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

Keep reading

sketches [ cm x r ]

Originally posted by evans-hansen

fandom : Dear Evan Hansen

by : Victoire

pairing : Connor Murphy x Reader

summary : In which you are a gifted artist & Connor just so happens to be your unsuspecting muse.

word count : 4,519

warnings : Swearing

a / n : Here we are! I’m beyond excited to be sharing my first fic with you. I’ve recently gotten into DEH & really explored the characters as people, so I do hope the way I write Connor is enough for you! I had my ups & downs while writing this, but the result did prove successful.

Oh, & make sure to see if you can catch a hidden If I Could Tell Her reference in the fic! *winky face* I would love you for the rest of my days if you all could leave a like or maybe reblog! Feedback & constructive criticism are always welcome.


Biting your lip in concentration, your eyes carefully studied the sharp but somehow soft lines of his face. He was sitting diagonally in front of you, with a perfect view of his profile.

Why would you be drawing the infamous Connor Murphy in the middle of a calculus class, you ask? Honestly, you didn’t even have a valid reason except for the fact that he was absolutely beautiful.

His was a unique kind of beauty, dark & harsh & in all ways mysterious, but at the same time there was a sort of lightness to it, fragile & delicate.

It puzzled you sometimes, but you were still drawn to the enigma that happened to be Connor Murphy.

Keep reading

Only If

REQUEST : Write something where y/n had done something bad to harry and thats why H suddenly became cold to her and he makes it hard to earn his trust back but then y/n got into an accident? - Anon

Keep reading

don't || stiles stilinski

word count: 4755

warnings: angst

prompt: based on 1x07 (Night School)

author’s note: i just want to thank @themadkingx for proof-reading this for me! i’ve been talking to her for a couple of days and she’s so sweet! also thank you @sarcasticallystilinski for the gif! (not my gif)

masterlist

Keep reading

college scheduling tips

-AVOID 8 AM CLASSES. 8 am in college is so much worse than 8 am in high school. i used to wake up at 6:30 in hs no problem and now waking up before 8:30 is really hard. some people are better or worse with 8 am’s but they still suck. 

-that being said, sometimes you gotta take an 8 am if it’s a class that you need and it’s only offered certain times in certain quarters/semesters. but if it’s not required and it’s not a time-sensitive class, avoid 8 am’s

-if you get stuck with an 8 am do one of 2 things depending on what works best for you:

-cluster all your classes in the morning that day so you don’t end up having your first class at 8 am and your last at 6 pm. you might have to wake up early, but then then you could be done by 1 pm

-OR do that 8 am and try to schedule a huge gap so you can nap or rest after the 8 am then be ready for the rest of your classes

-cluster your classes. this tip is more circumstance-dependent.

-if you live off campus you might wanna cluster your classes as close together as you can get (with reasonable time in between for a meal break if necessary) so that you don’t have to be on campus all day. however, I know some people like spending all day on campus, treating it like a job, spending free time in the library or somewhere on campus.

-if you live on campus clustering is still a good idea, but if your dorm is close to classes and it’s convenient to go back and forth, then clustering may not be necessary.  i prefer to only have classes taking up a small chunk of my day; clustering my classes allows me more large spaces of free time which lets me work more hours and have longer chunks of studying

-take harder classes when you’ll have more energy. if you can, try to get those important, difficult classes that require a lot of focus at better times (for most people this would be the middle of the day), whenever you think you’ll be more alert and have more energy. easy blow off classes can be saved for the dreaded time slots (early morning, night time, whenever you will hate being in class most). these are the classes that either don’t require your attendance or lecture doesn’t matter much bc it just rehashes readings or it’s a common sense class (lots of lower division social justice oriented classes fall in this category)

Protégé (M) [Part 5]

Originally posted by jjks

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Part 4]

Warning: Mentions of violence

Words: 10,882

When your phone receiver buzzed, you were poised and ready, jabbing your index finger against the speaker button. “Yes?”

“Morning, ma’am.” Jaebum’s voice drifted through the device, as cheerful as it always was, despite it just being a couple hours past sunrise. 

“Good morning, Jaebum.” You murmured, only filling the small gap of silence before he continued with what you’d been dreading to hear all morning.

“There’s someone here to see you,” He continued and you slowly exhaled. “A Miss Sorin Park.”

Your tongue glided over the edges of your teeth and back again, buying yourself time to settle the simmering annoyance that had been bubbling within you since last night. “Send her up.”

Keep reading

It had been going on for a while. Rival papers, rival journalists. Clarke would get the tip, Lexa would arrive first at the scene – or vice versa. She rather liked it when it was her getting the story first, but her victories were just as frequent as Lexa’s.

There had to be a traitor in her office – there was one in Lexa’s after all, with Niylah feeding Clarke scoop after scoop just as soon as Lexa got word of them. Was Lexa flirting with one of her co-workers too? The thought was… oddly unpleasant.

Of course, there were the times when their rivalry, known (and barely put up with) by all, took a slight… detour and things between them would heat up in a very different way than usual.

Even though she would never admit it to anyone, those were the times Clarke revelled the most. Those were the times that made losing a few first hand stories almost worth it. Lexa didn’t need to know that, though.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

The voice, softer than her own, pulled the corners of Clarke’s lips up into a smile. She lay her chin on the chest underneath her, blue eyes playfully meeting green ones.

“Thank God none of our friends know about this,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss between Lexa’s breasts. “Raven and Octavia would tease me endlessly.”

To Clarke’s surprise, Lexa didn’t smirk; she frowned. “You haven’t told your friends about us?”

Clarke laughed and got off of Lexa, opting to lie down beside her. “What, like you have?” The deepening crease between those striking jade eyes was answer enough and she didn’t know how to react. “There is no us, Lexa.”

Suddenly Lexa was up, throwing covers off her lithe body and searching for her clothes among the jungle of Clarke’s bedroom floor. Clarke, in turn, was utterly confused, taken aback by Lexa’s sullen behaviour.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it look like, Clarke?” Lexa snapped as she pulled pants up to her waist. “I’m going home.”

“Why? We were just relaxing, I don't– what the hell is wrong with you?”

Lexa finished buttoning her shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh, turning to Clarke with a cold gaze.

“I get it, Clarke. We are rivals, we steal each other’s stories, and then we fuck to keep the adrenaline pumping.” Lexa’s voice was as gelid and stoic as her eyes. “It’s just curious that you still see it as that when we have been staying the night for over three months.”

Feeling exposed all of a sudden, Clarke sat up and pulled the blankets up to cover her chest. “We agreed that it was easier if you caught the morning train to your place,” she said defensively.

“I’ve got a drawer in your wardrobe, Clarke!”

“Not my fault you leave your clothes here all the time,” the blonde shrugged.

Lexa’s eye roll was worthy of some Olympic back flip medal or something. Were there Olympic medals for back flips? Clarke didn’t really know a lot about sports.

“You call me aloof and emotionally constipated, but I am not the one who keeps believing those easy ways out after three months of mornings after,” Lexa claimed, a hue of hurt in the rainbow of feelings in her voice.

Clarke was at a loss for words, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “We fuck. What’s the big deal about that?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, for Lexa just turned away with a huff and walked out, making sure to slam the door as she left.

*

They hadn’t talked for a month. Lexa had been keeping her distance: not coming any close to her stories, leaving Clarke alone to make the most of her own scoops. It would have been paradise, if not for the gaping absence of teasing remarks, insufferable smirks – any words at all. Clarke kept trying to steal some scoops for herself, but Lexa was relentless, never letting Clarke win.

In a fell swoop, Clarke had lost her fuck buddy and her rival. Every time she got to a place, Lexa would either be long gone or never show up at all. Journalism just wasn’t as fun anymore.

Clarke had loved the whole enemies/lovers dynamic, sleeping with none other than your greatest rival. After every hustle, they would fall into bed together, releasing their frustration and satiating their rivalry in each other’s arms, mouths, fingers. It was something Clarke had never experienced before.

Clarke was snatched out of her thoughts by a binder falling violently on her desk. She looked up to find Octavia glaring at her.

“What now, O?” Clarke asked impatiently. “Too much paperwork for your lazy ass?”

“Wow, Lexa really left your panties in a twist,” her brunette friend chuckled dryly. “Can you two please go back to fucking?”

Clark’s bewildered gasp and choke would have been funny if not for the situation they were in. “You know? she choked out in a spluttering mess.

“Of course I do,” Octavia frowned. “We all know Lexa lets you get half of her stories and then you two go home and fuck each other’s brains out. Or, well, did. Now you two just mope around like you lost your favourite candy.”

The knowledge that Lexa was doing just as bad as her gave Clarke an odd hopeful feeling. “She’s moping?”

“Of course she is. How would you expect her to react to a break up?”

“This was not– We weren’t even together.”

This time, Octavia laughed heartily, taking more than a minute to gather her bearings and turn to Clarke with a mocking expression.

“Sweetie, like or not, you two were dating for the past three months. You don’t do the morning after with someone you don’t care about.”

There it was again, the morning after. Clarke didn’t understand what relevance it had to the case. “I still don’t know why the morning after seems to be so important,” she grumbled.

Octavia just shook her head in disbelief. “You may be blonde, but you’re not blonde, Clarke. Don’t lie to yourself just because you’re afraid to face the truth.”

*

Clarke was determined to get this right. This story was Lexa’s, Niylah had promised, and she was going to get there fast enough to catch the brunette before she could leave.

She would also steal the story, but that was another story. Pun fully intended, Clarke decided in that moment.

When Lexa showed up, she was the image of beauty. Long brown curls tamed in a ponytail, her face was clean and open and probably what heaven looked like. Emerald eyes didn’t hide their owner’s shock to see her.

“Clarke,” Lexa half breathed, half gasped, eyes wide and lips parted.

Clarke had to remember the speech she had practiced at home, in front of her mirror, like a romantic loser.

“Lexa, I– Can we talk?”

Lexa eyed her suspiciously, but eventually agreed, with a discreet nod of her head. They headed to another room, making the interviewee wait for its five minutes in the limelight.

“What do you want, Clarke?” The hostility of Lexa’s tone made her flinch. She had a lot of explaining to do. “I will not go back to the way we were before.”

“I know, I know,” Clarke rushed to say, promising her memories of Lexa writhing under her that she would give them full her attention once she got home. “I don’t want that either.” At Lexa’s frown, she ploughed on. “I don’t want to go back to the way we were before, because I want so much more. I thought what we had was just an easy rivals with benefits situation. We would do the rivalling during the day, fuck during the night. You kept clothes at my place so no one would ever see you leave with the clothes of the day before on. In the middle of all the lying I did to keep myself from panicking, I forgot to realise that you started staying the night because I asked you to. And it went on for three months because I wanted you to. And I would ask and want you to stay the night because I needed to fall asleep and wake up next to you, because there is no greater feeling in the world than that of spending every hour of your day with the person you love.”

Lexa’s eyes were wide like saucers, but Clarke couldn’t stop now.

“That’s the other thing I forgot,” she admitted, her voice small. “I forgot that slowly but surely, I was falling in love with you.”

Lexa pressed her lips together pensively, letting the silence stretch before she broke it. “Why didn’t you tell your friends?”

“The same reason for all my other fuck ups: I was afraid. Telling them would mean they would be able to give me the advice I was dreading: that all those mornings after did hold meaning after all and that I couldn’t hide from my feelings anymore.”

Lexa nodded this time, still not making a sound. “Will you tell your friends now?”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile. “Already have.”

Another nod. “Are we still rivals?”

“You’re as much my enemy as when we started this whole thing.”

Lexa was sporting a small smile now, a crooked little thing that Clarke had always found adorable. “I would not have it any other way.”

“But Lexa, now you’re also my best friend and… If you give me the honour… My girlfriend.”

Lexa’s shy smile turned into a smirk. “Only if you admit that Polis is the superior newspaper.”

Clarke didn’t even gasp. “For you, I would quit the Arkadia.”

Lexa’s amused smile, however, showed she was just kidding. “No need. Wouldn’t want to end the rivalry, would we?”

In that moment – and the moment after, when she finally got to get reacquainted with Lexa’s lips –, Clarke knew that she wanted all the mornings after and the nights during and the afternoons before.

She wanted everything with Lexa.

2

Title: It’s Over (Part 2/2.)

Part 1.

Character(s): Negan and Reader
Summary: You and Negan try and live a life after the affair ended, but things do not go according to plan. 
Word Count: 3,607
Warning: Violence, blood, srs all the angsty feels
Author’s Note: So, there were many people who wanted a part two, so I decided to write another angsty continuation to @embracetheapocalypsewithme‘s original prompt for her 400 follower Negan Challenge! This is a full flood of emotions, so I hope you all enjoy it! ;-)

(GIF Source: @negankylo)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Well darn it! Now I need to know what kind of yandere Deathsaurus is!! Wanna pick up where you left off with Tarn? XD And I love yandere Fort Max too, but somehow also yandere Overlord??! D: Imagine the nightmare of Overlord taking interest in the same human as Fort Max, considering their history! QAQ Obviously I'd choose Fort Max... but since when did the "object of affection" get to chose?

You have tempted me!  I am now tempt!  XD  (Continuation of this post.)

Truthfully, Deathasaurus would be pretty tame as far as the Decepticon yanderes go.  He already has a great relationship with his crew, so he’s not starved for attention or anything,  He’s more concerned with your welfare, and making sure you have time to adjust after being held captive by the DJD for so long.  You two actually end up forming a pretty strong bond, although a very strange one.  He casually threatens you with the possibility of murder at least once a day a la The Princess Bride, but it’s mostly just bluster on his end.  

His yandere side comes out whenever he senses a threat to your safety.  He knows his men wouldn’t lay a finger on you (at least not to harm you, but Deathasaurus has made it perfectly clear to them that they’re not to touch you for… other purposes either) but he will bristle on go on the alert around strangers or anyone who seems suspicious.  He hates to admit it, but you’ve managed to worm your way into his spark.  There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you.  Some mech giving you a rough time?  Don’t worry, sweetspark, he’s got this!  See something you like out shopping?  Deathasaurus will buy you one in every color!  Heck, he’ll buy you the whole store!  Anything to keep you at his side.  

At night he likes to cuddle you close to his chest and rarely will take no for an answer,  More often than not, you find your self drifting off to sleep as you’re lulled by his rumbling sleepy purr.


As for Overlord and Fort Max, well, why do you think Overlord became so fascinated with you in the first place?  ;)

Truthfully, Overlord has no interest in you personally at all, he just can’t stand for Max to have any sort of happiness in his life.  If he can, he takes it for himself, if not, he ruins it.  He becomes obsessed with you, trying to find a way to take you away from his long time rival.  (He’s got so many things planned for you, and if he can, he’s going to make Fort Max watch it all until he rips out his spark)

This drives Fort Max’s paranoia up 1000%!  Forget sneaking around and checking the security cameras.  He’s never letting you out of his sight again!  He insists on carrying you everywhere you go, even for short distances.  He becomes increasingly more suspicious of strangers and the other mech on the ship.  Sometimes his frustrations will get the better of him and he will snap at or lecture you if you do something that could put yourself in danger (though he always apologizes after.  It breaks his spark to see you upset.)  He insists on having you sleep in his room at night and installs about 50 more locks on the inside.  

He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that monster never gets his hands on you, and if he somehow does?  Max will tear Overlord apart with his bare hands to get you back.