every curve

nowandgen As a mother, I’m constantly reminded by how strong and resilient my body is. I’m amazed that my body has been a home for 3 little humans and that it can nurture my nursing baby. Body positivity is something I encourage my kids to understand every day, because perfection is BS. Today on #LoveYourBody day, I encourage you not to judge yourself (or me for posting this photo), but instead to embrace how beautiful you really are - loving every imperfection, every curve, every inch of yourself. ❤️💪

So here’s the thing.

I love the ‘Viktor lives an extravagant lifestyle and wants to shower Yuuri in rich things’ headcanon as much as the next person. I think it stems from my working class fantasies of someday marrying someone who wants to love and support me unconditionally both emotionally and financially. But who doesn’t.

That being said, I see a lot of people portraying Viktor as sitting down with Yuuri in the planning process for their wedding (And for the rest of their lives) and saying things like Ten-tier wedding cake celebrity chef catering Armani tuxes white doves all-rose centerpieces g o l d and all I can imagine–and, granted, this is just my personal view of Yuuri as a character; Yuuri who I over-identify with on a good day–is Yuuri sitting there and going HOLY! SHIT! and completely shutting down.

And maybe this is how Viktor starts off as. Viktor probably comes from money originally, and we as a fandom have discussed this to kingdom come. We’ve also concluded that even if your personal headcanon is Viktor achieving his own wealth, he’s…well, wealthy. This is more or less canon at this point. Viktor is, perhaps not necessarily The One Percent, but definitely high upper middle class, and definitely not afraid to show it.

And he’s good! So good! He’s genuine with it, he wants to spend all of his money on his fiance and his dog and their wedding and the life they’re going to build together! He wants to buy a big place to live, a house or a condo he doesn’t care, and fill it with family and love!

But Yuuri doesn’t come from wealth. He comes from a family that probably sometimes struggled to pay bills. Sometimes, he probably sat in his bedroom and listened to his parents decide whether they were going to get the car fixed, or replace the washing machine, because they couldn’t afford to do both at the same time. I have this idea that Toshiya probably got a second job to pay for Yuuri’s ballet and ice skating lessons, and that it’s probably something Yuuri felt very bad about–and still does to a certain extent.

And he’s paying them back, now. He’s winning, sometimes, and whatever he doesn’t need to feed himself goes straight back home. But then he gets engaged to literally the most successful figure skater in the history of forever.

And maybe sometimes he can’t deal?

I think that Viktor is the kind of person who would realize fairly quickly that Yuuri is uncomfortable with grant displays. Yuuri is the kind of person who doesn’t like PDA; he doesn’t hug his parents after five years away because it’s just not what’s done in his culture. Of course he would be uncomfortable with sitting next to his fiance with the wedding planner while the words filet mignon dinner come out of his mouth.

And I think it would come out to something like this: Viktor realizes that it isn’t the size or extravagance of the wedding that he wants to badly, but the symbolism. He wants something beautiful. Something lovely, and intricate, and full of meaning. Viktor has been confusing expense with significance his entire life, and I think that this is the moment where he realizes that that’s not the case.

And yes, some of those elements are expensive. Blue rose aren’t cheap, and neither is champagne. But Makkachin is well-trained and only has to be pointed in the right direction to bring them their rings–and he works for liver treats. And Phichit is a wonderful photographer for a man whose major played a background role to his skating career. And the day Viktor and Yuuri asked Hiroko and Toshiya Katsuki if they could have their wedding at the Onsen was the day that Viktor realized, truly realized, that he had gained not only a lover, a life partner, but a family. 

It’s not the wedding Viktor imagined–except, it was never going to be, because Viktor doesn’t think he ever quite imagined getting married to someone. 

Of course, the fact that Viktor spent well over their honeymoon budget is…something that Yuuri supposes he can tolerate.

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

I love the sound of your voice whispering in my ear, i love that the scent of you is still lingering in my room. I love lazy days in bed with you, having you here chest to chest, looking into your eyes and seeing my future with you. Your hands are tracing every curve of my body, while I trace the curve of your lips with mine. Here, with you, pulling you closer with every gentle kiss, my heart whispers I am home.
—  Tenari Ioapo
Moon Emoji Reviews

apple, producing the classic new moon with a face. he has such a smooth face, with baby like skin, and eyes as deep as the ocean, its hard to not get lost in his forever gaze. if you stare too long though, you will swear you can feel his human lips brush against your ear. 7/10


google’s interpretation is very friendly, welcoming. his big round nose reminds me of a papa cartoon character, and is, therefore, very easy on the eyes and lovable. although the eyes are a tad blank, and frightful. 6/10

microsoft takes an interesting take on the moon - it appears to look more like a stale cookie, or like spongebob’s parents. his feline type nose throws me off… hes throwing mixed signals… this is not a moon, but a beast of the night, taunting, lurking. 4/10

samsung… oh samsung… what did you do? you’ve turned microsofts cookie moon beast into a cgi monster, with soft features, similar to that of apple’s. maybe this would be better if he didn’t have those patronized glints in his eyes. 3/10

LG has taken an interesting turn. this moon is… curious… and content, but you can clearly see the pain behind his eyes. his eyes are deep. lurking. a man of mystery. 5/10

what a happy face!! i feel delighted to see this moon on my screen. he is doing great, but not quite giving off the look that this emoji is supposed to represent. he is wonderful though anyways. 8/10.

what an interesting buddy! Facebook has taken a different path, while taking time to accentuate each and every crevice and curve of this moon’s surface. a beautiful boy, with caressing eyes. 7/10

a very calm moon. i feel calm looking at it. it is doing a wonderful job on conveying the night times sleep appeal. it is not doing a great job as the original emoji purposes, but is conveying a different emotion entirely. what a beautiful and intricate boy. a work of art. 10/10

i didn’t think there could be a better moon emoji than the original, but i stand corrected. what a 🌚  emoji. the empty stare takes the cake. 7/10

mozilla does a nice job at creating a unique yet form fitting moon face emoji. nothing to call home about though. he looks too eager to be here… what is he planning… 4/10

… an… interesting… take… terrifying, yes. calming, also yes. i’m not sure how to feel about the immense detail upon this ones face. a solid 5/10 should be okay… although i know that i should give this emoji a higher rating, or else it will come to me tonight and look at me through the window, open mouthed breathing, gently fogging up the window glass around it.

SWEET CHRIST ALLMIGHTLY WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THYIS. THIS IS NOT A MOON I CAN TRUST. THIS IS NOT A MOON I CAN RETAIN EYE CONTACT WITH. 0/10!!!!

i. I’m trying to let you go, but every day it feels like an old record on repeat; a beautiful start with the same ending 
ii. I’m trying to do things I wouldn’t usually do, like write songs instead of poems and paint instead of drawing but every curve of my pencil still ends up spelling your name 
iii. I’m trying to sleep earlier and read more often but no matter how hard I try I still lie awake at 4 am missing you and wishing you were missing me too
iv. I’m trying to open my eyes to new perspectives, see the world differently and find peace in everything but no matter what I do I can’t help but see the colour of your eyes and the shape of your smile in every fucking piece of nature 
v. I’m trying to open up more, come to terms with what happened and realise it’s permanent but I can’t help but get a jolt in my stomach every time my phone vibrates hoping it’ll be you, coming back 
vi. And I’m trying. God I am fucking trying. But this pain seems endless and the thought of you is starting to make me feel sick. I miss you more each day and I don’t know how much more of can take of this but god 
vii. I’m trying
—  dissociatingx, try a little harder

i have been with two types of men.

the first type kisses you. sometimes there is urgency in this kiss, but oftentimes there isn’t. they undress you thoughtlessly. they touch you, see you, feel you, but have nothing to say about your skin, your softness, the dip of your neck. they hold the curves of your hips but don’t kiss them. they brief over your body like it’s commonplace, something they see every day.

the second type makes you feel like you are the first naked woman they have ever seen in their lives. they marvel at you. they stop kissing just to marvel at you. and they tell you – oh, how they tell you. they tell you how beautiful you are, how sexy, how absolutely earth-shattering your presence is. they kiss every inch of your skin and take time with each one. when you stand up their eyes run over your body, every curve, every dip, and they put their hands on their heads in disbelief. they are grateful just to be able to touch you.

don’t settle for the first type of man. you deserve to be worshipped.

Fic: Happy Birthday, Naruto

Word Count: Ion’t know | Genre: Real ass shit | Relationship: M/M | Warning: Unsafe for the eyes of those sensitive to real ass shit

A/N: A gift for Naruto, the birthday boy. SNS. 

— 

Overhead, fluttering under the bright rays of a radiant sun, a carrier pigeon delivered a scroll.

‘Hinata baked a birthday cake for me, but I just wanna get my 10 inch candle deep up in your cakes and fill you with my custard cannon baby. Use Water Release: Fleet no Jutsu before I arrive so I can eat a lil dessert with my present too. 😩💦💦💦👅🍅’

Sasuke rolled his eyes, scoffing at the lowly vulgarity. It wouldn’t be long before Naruto descended on him now. Subtlety didn’t exist in his dictionary.

A rendezvous in the Hokage’s mansion; that plan Naruto concocted when he swept Sasuke off his feet, ignorant of any passive protest, would end in his well-deserved favor. The fourteen missed calls from Hinata, the read receipt attached to the text prying into his whereabouts (Read: 3 hours ago), and the unsigned marriage annulment documents crumpled within Sasuke’s pocket fazed not a nerve-ending in his body. Naruto left all those obstructions to the birds as he hastily stabbed at the touchscreen of his phone, ‘I’m at Sasuke house playing the game like fr my dick gone get skid marks the way you riding it so hard 💀💀💀😂🔥🔥😂🔍🔍🔥😤😴,’ in an evasive maneuver that freed him from the all-too-tight chains of banal concepts such as personal responsibility.

Inhaling that fresh air of freedom, Naruto’s atoms dispersed in a vibrant beacon of light before flashing back together at his destination with his lover in his arms. Agreeable, subdued to no one’s path but one where they could be together, just like Naruto, and the Uchiha’s wife, expected him to be. In Naruto’s case, it was more akin to a demand than a expectation. A demand not expressed with teary eyes, passive threats one was too weak to act upon, and appeals to a romance one felt entitled to, but expressed with the promise of being saved by the threat of fists. The specter of breaking the other’s bones to drag him back home to complete his triad of emotional receptacles: the village, his aspiring monarchy, and a certain Uchiha’s acknowledgement. With a smile on his face and only the purest intentions lacing his heartstrings, Naruto refused to tolerate anything less from his most prized bond.

It elated Naruto to know Sasuke made not just the right choice, but the only choice.

Encased beneath a hurricane crashing in the violent waves of passion, Naruto found solace in nothing short of devouring the decadence of the Uchiha’s body like the sweetest confection. Eliciting sounds from Sasuke that not even his wife was privy to, committing the rich palate of his flesh to his tongue’s memory, and claiming every corner and curve his hands traversed as rightfully his own.

Said hand, an eager one, slid beneath the now disheveled hem of Sasuke’s shirt to trace the attractive grooves that shaped his lower abdomen and advertised a sharp pathway toward what begged for Naruto’s attention.

“M'gonna get in them guts and bust down your walls like the Kyuubi at the Konoha gates,” was the rasp that accompanied Naruto’s hand tugging down those pants, slipping his palm inside Sasuke’s underwear without shame, to reveal…

A glock.

The heater, the burner, he was strapped with that draco.

Naruto froze.

“Happy Birthday, Naruto.”

Sasuke Uchiha, his lover, pistol whipped him in the heat of passion.

“The only walls you’re busting down are the ones to my reparations fund. You don’t want this work.”

Naruto, for once in all of his days…

Couldn’t believe it.

“Wh-”

“You beat me down, begged me to return to this putrid country, and fraternize with the very elders who subjugated my family and ripped them away from me. The vermin who caused my defection in the first place drink tea with you, unsweetened at that. This ‘peace’ you professed to me was nothing but a farce to lure me here, and I won’t hesitate to bust a cap in your dome, your scalp, your cranium.”

Naruto’s eyes widened. Shock washed over his features like a tidal wave.

“B-B-But ya gotta understand the Leaf’s mistakes were-”

“Genocide and tyranny are not mistakes, braindead idiot,” he presses the barrel to Naruto’s forehead.

“Can we talk about this?”

“No. Deliver my reparations in monthly direct deposits or I will never let you snort lines of coke off my ass again.”

Now it was Naruto’s turn to fall silent. He never imagined Sasuke…didn’t need his saving.

“I’m sick of being the neighborhood’s emotional vessel, doling out validation by the demands of my so-called friends. Your parasitic acknowledgement, Sakura’s narcissistic love, Kakashi’s bruised sense of being a failed sensei who, in a brazen show of hypocrisy, disregarded my rightful goal when I was vulnerable and trusted him.”

“Wait-”

“Shut up, usuratonkachi. It would behoove you to know: your dick game’s wack and your stroke is trash.”

Sasuke may or may not have been lying, but today is the day he rescinds that oh so coveted acknowledgement at all costs. Despite that, the color sapped from Naruto’s face at the blow to his strengths. There was no way his dick game was wack…

“You’re going to catch this bullet precisely where you catch my nut every night. In the eye.”

He cocks, the glock, the burner, the draco…

Naruto pauses, takes Sasuke by the wrist, gently.

“Wells Fargo or Bank of Konoha?”

“Neither. I’m with a credit union in the Sound Village. Write the reparations check for it there or I’ll make you spew the flames of Amaterasu straight from your asshole.”

Sasuke didn’t bother with his blabbering, his excuses. He had to pay the elders a visit now. Turning on his heel, he breezes past Naruto and begins to take his grand exit from the country yet again.

“Then…if you planned to leave me. Who were you getting thick for all this time?”

A low chuckle leaves Sasuke and he flashes his smirk over his shoulder.

“The Revolution.”

~ FIN

Sweet Nothings

REQUEST: could you write one of just lying in bed with Harry, just talking about the future and it’s all fluffy with a bit of smut? Thanks💗💗

REQUEST: could you write an imagine/fluff about pillow talk, like what you and harry would talk about after making love and the sweet nothings he would tell you 😊


Decided to combine these two. I’m not a huge smut writer so there’s not much smut but there is plenty of fluff! Hope you enjoy! x




Lazy moments with Harry were definitely at the top of your list of favorite things.

The two of you were lost in one another, both of your legs intertwined and covered in the pastel pink sheets of your bed. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, the tattoos on his body illuminated only by the (many) candles that he’d lit earlier that night while you were preoccupied in your office. You were wearing an oversized shirt that you’d stolen from him months ago, a black button-up with “Styles” embroidered over the breast. Your arm was thrown across his chest as your head nestled into the crook of his neck, and his arm was wrapped around you, his hand settled at the skin of your waist as he traced circles against your skin.

The two of you had just spent a while being intimate with one another, which was evident by both of your horrendous sex hair and the blissful afterglow that the both of you carried on your features. You’d been together for almost half a year now, and in that time you’d spent countless hours fooling around between the sheets—Harry connected with you like no one else ever had, and he knew it. The two of you had a more than active sex life, but it wasn’t only about the sex, it was about the moments.

It was the moment after you scream his name, when he leans over to press a soft kiss to your temple. The way in which he never lets you forget that you are safe, that you are in control, and that he loves you.

It’s the moments where he looks at you—I mean, he REALLY looks at you. Head to toe, as if he’s trying to commit your every dip and curve to memory, even though he probably already has. It’s the way he lets out a small sigh and a goofy smile once he’s gotten the chance to see every inch of your skin, as if your body was the answer to all the questions he’d ever asked.

It’s the moment after it all, after you’d scampered into the bathroom and the both of you had slipped into something to cover your skin from the cold air. Moments like right now, where the two of you were absolutely content with tucking yourselves into one another and pretending like both of you were the only people in the world. That’s certainly what it felt like—you felt his chest rise and fall slowly, and the feeling of his lips at the top of your head made you smile.

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Time to float - Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: Time to float

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompts: If you’re taking requests for Bill Skarsgård can you write one where the reader is a famous actress and also little Jackson Scott’s big sister (the kid who plays Georgie) so she attends the premiere with him wearing a stunning dress as usual, she meets Bill who is awestruck bc hes a huge fan with a massive crush on her, the kids who played in the movie myb tease him a little bit, and she’s flattered and thinks hes adorable idk i like this idea 
— 
YN is Jackson older sister and Bill is her fan!so when he finds out he tries his best to get Jackson to introduce them,and when he does,Jackson can’t help and teels big sis that Bill has a crush on her and he’s just super adorkable to admit! later they all say that on an interview,and the kids love to make fun of them

“Jackson please don’t run! Be careful, sweetie, you’re gonna-” you stopped yourself when you heard you little brother giggle and you realized what you’d just said “Oh gosh I am turning into mom!” you breathed out, eyes wide.

Your little brother ran back to you, wrapping his small arms around your legs and you looked down to be met with his adorable smile “Yes you are! But I am always going to love you the most! More than mom and dad, and more than anyone else in the world!” he said and you giggled.

“And you will always be the number one man in my heart, JR!” you leaned down to pick him up and kiss his cheek as he wrapped his arms around your neck with a big smile.

“Even before dad?” he asked and you grinned, nodding your head.

“But we’re not gonna tell him that, because it’s gonna break his heart.” you pouted, and he giggled.

“You bet it will!” your father piped in, saying with a serious nod and you laughed with Jackson as he kissed your cheek before going to help your mother.

“And… even more than him?” he said with what was supposed to be a smirk on his face and you chuckled, tickling his belly.

“You sly little tease!” you grinned as he squirmed in your arms “Alright, maybe I really do like him a little bit but-”

He rolled his eyes so dramatically at you and shook his head “A lot!”

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High School In Review (so far)+ Some Tips!!!

Hello everyone! I’m Niva and I am a student of the High School class of 2019.

Now I’ve been in high school for 2 years now, so I think that can give some pretty solid advice to ya little upcoming freshman and any person who is still struggling in high school. So buckle up ya seat belts and put on some shades, cause we’re about to take a LONG ride

I know there are tons of freshman advice videos and posts out here on tumblr dot com, so I’m gonna try and make mine unique

*Note: My HS experience is unique; your may not need any of these tips, so who knows. Also, this post contains profanity. I don’t know if y’all care, it just seems that the studyblr community are all these sweet angels who attend church every Sunday and read the Bible in their spare time.

~=+=~FRESHMAN AND SOPHOMORE YEAR~=+=~

my freshman overview: Look, this year was hardest compared to my sophomore year. One class literally ruined my life, my dudes. {humble brag} Throughout my entire life from PreK to 8th Grade, I had gotten straight A’s on all my report cards. My freshman year, I decided to take AP World History and BOY did it crush me. I made a C in the class first semester and a B in the second semester. Now, it was not the teacher at fault. In fact, I LOVED the teacher. I just was not interested in that class at all and the work matched with me being in Marching Band nearly sent me to my death bed. I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just being 100% legit. This is also a PSA to all freshman offered to take APWH: This is one of the harder AP courses, and I wish one of my teachers had told me this before I decided to take the class (they probably did and I ignored them). This also was my first year in marching band and I’m telling you right now, if you’re wondering whether or not you should do marching band, do it. Even if you just do it for one year, it’s fuckin worth it mate. 

my sophomore overview: This year was SIGNIFICANTLY easier. During my freshman year, the way the schedule was set up was an A/B schedule; your schedule would alternate. On A days, you’d have these 4 classes and on B day, another 4. My sophomore year, they changed that and it was a bit easier for me. Not that I didn’t like the A/B schedule (I loved it), it was just a lot easier to manage classes. I only had one AP class this year, because I couldn’t take AP Lang because of schedule conflicts. ANTYWAYS, AP Gov is one of the easiest classes I took. My teacher was extremely chill and put a curve on every test and quiz, so that’s mainly why I didn’t fail. Marching band was much easier to handle since I already had experience. This was also the year I quit TSA (technology student association) and VEX Robotics, due to scheduling conflicts with band. And, to be quite honest, neither of the clubs were fun lmao. Literature class was annoying, because I got stuck in a class that DIDNT WANNA DO ANYTHING. They didn’t wanna read along, read at all, do projects, breathe, etc. (if you need tips on how to handle a trash class, just ask and I might make a post on that lol). Chemistry was purgatory, not hell, just purgatory. It was hard but not too hard that I didn’t pass. Math has never been hard for me so nothing really changed with that class. This year I brought back my streak of All A’s, so this school year was the best of the two in my eyes.

~=+=~The TIPS~=+=~

1. Normally, freshman don’t take AP classes, but if you are, be prepared. Depending on the class subject, you’re gonna have to do a hell of a lot more than just read the chapters once and do one page of notes. Try to always be ahead of the class and start some sort of study group. 

2. You’re best friend does not need to be your project partner all of the time. Seriously. If you have friends like mine, you will sit on your phone looking at memes on twitter for a long ass time before you ever start your project. Try doing a solo project every once in a while.

3. Don’t randomly join clubs. I was offered to join BETA Club and I didn’t wanna do it, so I didn’t. Don’t do clubs cause it looks nice cause 90% of the time, that one club won’t affect anything.

4. Save money. If you’re in marching band, dear god, save your money. School might as well be charging you to breathe. Everything cost SO MUCH MONEY. If you need to, set up a secret money jar so your parents don’t hijack your money.

5. Make new friends. Unlike most people apparently, I didn’t lose any friends. I do talk to certain people less because of class schedules, but we’re still friends. There is a small ass chance you’re gonna get caught in a class full of upperclassmen and no friends, and I had that situation. It’s not fun. Eventually, you’ll make a friend in that class, so don’t panic. But, anyways, new school, why not make new friends?

6. Don’t? Switch? Lunch? Tables? Okay, I don’t mean that someone’s gonna like sucker punch you out of your seat like in the movies. I mean like if we’re 5 months into the school year, don’t just randomly change your table, because …just don’t do it.

7. Don’t be that person who purposely gets on the teacher’s nerves to make class harder.

8. If you hate one of your teachers, suck it up buttercup. You have a choice of passing or failing, don’t let a teacher ruin an A in class for you.

9. Try and be on the other side of drama. It’s much more fun to watch drama go down, that to actually be involved in it.

10. Be early (if you can). I ride the bus, so I have no choice. But, there is legit no reasons for you to be walking into the class 10 minutes late, because you thought you could sleep an extra 5 mins.

11. I know your literature class is getting boring. This is probably your 7th consecutive year of learning the difference between a simile and a metaphor. I don’t know why they continue to reteach that stuff, but they do. All I can say is utilize what their teaching in some way, so that you don’t feel like the class is completely useless.

12. We all have that one class that you just do nothing in. Take advantage of that and get work done. I don’t have a “study hall” class so, any time you have to do work, use it.

13. Go to at least some of the school events. You can get relatively free food. 

14. Look, I could not care less if you skip school. But, don’t do it often and if you can, don’t do it ever. 

15. If you’re gonna eat in class, don’t eat something obvious like Lays Chips or a whole orange

16. Make friends with your teacher. Don’t be like creepy, but like, don’t have a bad relationship with your teacher.

17. Sophomore year, start thinking about college. You may think it’s too early, but it’s not. At least have an idea of what you want to major in.

18. If you can, get your permit as soon as you turn 15. Please don’t be like me. I still cannot drive and getting from Point A to Point B is harder than the VESPR Theory.

19. Disrespectful classmates are just an opportunity for you to get special privileges in class. If you’re class is disruptive and you’re just a sweet little angel, the teacher will most likely be more lenient with you. My teacher literally gave me a 100 on a project I turned in a day late (supposed to be 5 points off) because literally me and this other girl were the only ones who turned the project in.

20. Do your homework the day you get it. I don’t give a damn if it’s due in two days or two months, do it right then and right there.

21. In your language class, please try. Nobody likes the kid who doesn’t participate. If the teacher asks,  ¿Como estas?, you better fuckin say ¿Bien, y tu? back.

22. If you’re in a situation like mine, you’re gonna have a class you didn’t sign up for, yet somehow you got it. Just deal with it. If you can’t change your schedule, that’s all you can do. Just do the assignments and hope you pass.

23. Okay, most schools don’t have a “popular” group. But all schools definitely have the Prep group. You know, those kids. If you’re not one of them, just ignore them. If you are one of them, stop being so goddang stuck up and realise that you have an annoying voice. If you are not sure if you are a prep, you most likely are not.

24. My school doesn’t use lockers purely based on the fact that it would take too long for kids to get to them and back to class since my school is so big. So, if you also do not have lockers, make sure your bookbag can handle one full school year. I cannot stress this enough. You don’t wanna walk around school with a 15lb bookbag and only one functional strap.

25. Eat the school food. It’s honestly not as bad as the internet makes it. Like…eat ya pizza and enjoy it.

26. If your single and you want a relationship, please do not get a crush on random people like me. Someone would let me borrow a pencil and I would fantasize about a wedding for the next 2 days. I know it’s hard being lonely, but being in a relationship won’t get you a college scholarship.

27. Don’t drink a lot during school. There’s gonna be a teacher with a restriction on the bathroom because for some reason, they think bladders have a specific schedule to follow.

28. Don’t be that freshman that dates every senior in sight. If you have a relationship with a senior and it lasts, great. I’ve seen it happen, but 90% of the time it does not. 

29. Likewise, if you have a friend that’s running you up the wall with their problems, specifically relationship problems. Find a way to distance yourself from them, or even better, get them help from someone else.

30. If you have Type 4 hair (or type 3, it depends), you gotta do your hair at least 3 days in advance, especially if your hair is short. I don’t know a single person with kinky hair who can wake up and just simply throw their hair up.

31. Look, man. Just look here. Look at me in my eyes and listen. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, IF YOU ARE GONNA HAVE SEX USE A CONDOM! USE A CONDOM OR DONT HAVE SEX AT ALL. I’m not speaking from personal experience, but I many of girls have gotten pregnant at my school

32. If you’re gonna do drugs, don’t. Don’t be stupid. Especially if you’re in a school club or sport. You are subject to random drug tests at all times. 

33. Try not to let people affect the way you dress. Wear what you want.

34. Something about you is gonna change. Your personality, your look, your aesthetic. Whatever changes, don’t be stuck up. Nobody likes stuck up people; not even stuck up people like stuck up people.

35. You know those posts that are like “Grades don’t determine intelligence?” Yeah, well they don’t determine your intelligence, but they can determine where you get into college (if you wanna go) and how you’re seen and perceived by teachers. At least, try to pass.

36. If you can, take the ACT or SAT or whatever standardized test you have for your schools. I had an opportunity to take the SAT in 4th, 7th, and 8th grade for $35…and I didn’t take it once. I heavily regret it. Mainly I didn’t take it, because, at the time, it was hard for my mother to pay for it when we had much bigger problems, but like, if you have the opportunity and the funds to take those tests, take them.

37. Don’t rely on quality points. In my school (they’ve gotten rid of this now though), if you’re in an AP class you got 10 extra points and if you were in an Honors/PreAP class, you got 5 points. Colleges look at your grades without the points. The only purpose for these quality points is so that kids in CP classes don’t get valedictorian or some shit idk

38. If you’re in America, you’re gonna have somebody walking around school in a Trump shirt. By all means, beat their ass, but know the consequences. Also, if you’re gonna talk about politics with somebody, please know at least the bare minimum. At least know what the Hillary email scandal is before you try and defend her. Same goes for my friends across the pond. You see someone supporting Theresa May, beat their ass, know the consequences, and learn politics.

39. Actually? Check? Your? Grades? I know so many people who just don’t know what they’re grades are. Know you’re grades so you always know where you stand.

40. I wanna say class rank does not matter, but if you’re anything like me, you’re gonna obsess over it for a while. I know you wanna be in the Top 5, but if you’re no where near it, you’re gonna have to work EXTREMELY HARDER THAN NORMAL. Try not to make a huge deal out of it, unless you’re aiming for Valedictorian.

41. Moisturize ya self. Don’t nobody like ashy knees and elbows. Invest in some lotion.

42. Listen. We all hate dress code. But just follow it. You can’t do anything about it. Just wait til the weekend to wear your spaghetti strap shirt and ripped jeans. And if you wear leggings and you have a wide hip and butt area, you are definitely going to be called out. If you’re not sure if you’re breaking dress code with what your wearing, bring an extra shirt and jeans just in case.

43. Go the fuck to sleep. Don’t be up at ass o’clock in the morning doing who-knows-what on the internet. I know from experience. You may think you can survive 8 hours of school with 2 hours of sleep, but as the day goes on, you’re not gonna want do anything at all, but sleep. But hey, if 2 hours of sleep works for, go ahead. It’s not healthy but I can’t regulate your life.

44. If you walk in the wrong class, everyone will forget about it after the a good 2 days. Literally nobody cared that much. Just walk out and forget about it.

45. If you have a phone, get your friends numbers/contacts/emails. You’re gonna need them for homework sooner or later.

46. To all those uber religious people out there, drop the clean act. If you hear somebody say “fuck”, get over it. I don’t know how else to say it. Teachers cannot stop somebody from cursing completely. People are gonna have sex, people are gonna cuss, people are gonna be inappropriate, and all you can do is focus on yourself.

47. Wear deodorant. You will be surprised at the amount of people who don’t. 

48. Studyblr is fun. Studyblr is nice. That being said, studyblr is not the end of the world. If you don’t have a bullet journal, just use the calendar in your phone or have an online bujo. Don’t let studyblr take up 90% of your study time, because scrolling through the studyblr tag is not studying.

49. Don’t be that kid that walks around with fucking surround sound speakers on their back. Wtf, like invest in some headphones my guy.

50. Never buy a 1 inch binder. Always 2 inch and above, unless you know for sure you only need a 1 inch.

51. You are gonna have a set of people you absolutely hate that for some reason, you cannot get away from them. The best you can do is ignore them.

52. If you’re required to take a Fitness class and you are a festively plump child or an unhealthy/unfit person such as myself, you are going to be embarrassed at some point. Look. I cannot give you advice that’s gonna raise your self-esteem, but I can tell you that if you don’t pay attention to anyone else, it’s much easier to get through that class. The fitness gram pacer test doesn’t last forever. Likewise, don’t treat fitness class like the fucking Olympics. The coach asked for 10 pushups not 100.

53. Extra Credit is your friend. Even if you have a 100 in a class, extra credit doesn’t hurt.

54. Do not walk slow in the hallway, please. I like getting to class on time. If you plan on having a conversation in the hallway, only do it if you walk and talk at a reasonable speed.

55. If you ride the bus, get up at least 45 minutes before the bus gets there. I don’t have a big morning routine, so half of the time in the morning, I just scroll through twitter. Wake up early enough to get everything done.

56. C’s get degrees, my friend, but C’s don’t get scholarships.

57. If you wear AXE Body Spray or any perfume/cologne, I want you to know that your smell occupies the entirety of the hallway you’re on. Please, use only a small amount of fragrance, because not only do they most likely stink, some kids have asthma and some kids are allergic to fragrances. Just refrain from wearing strange smelling spays.

58. If you’re a theatre kid or sport kid, don’t be completely set on becoming a professional singer/actor/athlete. Have a Plan B. The last thing counselors wanna hear when they ask you what you want to be when you grow up, is a NBA Player.

59. To all my shy people out there, that speech you have to give doesn’t last forever. In fact, it may only last 3 minutes. In my literature class, we were required to recite lines from Romeo and Juliet, for some odd reason, and I made such a big deal out of something that barely affected my grades.

60. For this last and FINAL tip of this post, don’t give up. I didn’t wanna be generic, but here the fuck! I! am!!! When I took AP World History, part of the reason I ‘failed’ was because I just stopped trying. I would make low C’s on the test and just think, “Well I didn’t pass, might as well just give up.” Well, no shit you didn’t read the chapter. If you’re trying all you’ve got and you’re just not making it, talk to the teacher. That’s one thing I regret from my freshman year. I just gave up. I didn’t try and get help because I felt that getting help meant that I was stupid. It doesn’t. It just means you’re smarter for trying to get a good grade.

WELL THAT’S ALL FOLKS! Sorry if my cursing doesn’t fit your aesthetic, too bad. I can probably think of 40 more tips to make this 100, but I didn’t want this post to be extremely long (lol good job on that). Anyways, if you ever want any help, feel free to message me, but I’m not that good at text conversations or conversations in general so I’m your last resort.

TO THE UPCOMING FRESHMAN: Have a great first year of high school! You’re about to enter a new life where the teachers are more serious and, yes, coloring still somehow counts as a grade.

TO THE UPCOMING SOPHOMORES: I know. You’ve only been here one year and your tired. Have hope. You’re one year closer to that diploma.

Professor || Sebastian Stan

Relationship: Professor!Sebastian x reader

Summary: A one night stand turns into more of a problem when you realise that your professor is your one night stand.

Warnings: mentions of smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal and in mid-twenties!!!), age difference, professor x student relationship

Word Count: 1770 words

A/N: im kinda getting my groove back let’s hope it lasts during the week because uni is already making me wanna die (((:

also my cause of death is the second gif GOODBYE


Just one more shot!” Seemed to be the motto of your night as you insisted you and your friends needed to go partying on one last Friday night before you start for your masters degree. 

You weren’t ever the party girl, never really big on drinking, but that all changed when you saw your schedule for the semester. You were going to be cooped up in your room for the next eight months, no doubt about it. 

So why not have a little fun while you still can? It can’t hurt, right?

Six tequila shots in and you were quite possibly the happiest person in the club, no, on the Earth. Not a single care in your mind, everything was all about the moment and whatever you laid eyes on in that very moment. 

That just so happened to be the exact moment your eyes met a gorgeous pair of cool grey ones. It might’ve been your intoxicated state, but you could’ve sworn that you knew those eyes, that you’ve seen them before. 

Your thoughts were pushed aside when the man walked even closer to you, offering to buy you a drink, to which you declined because quite frankly, you didn’t want to yack in front of the gorgeous man in front of you. 

His face fell when you denied his offer, but quickly made up for it when you grabbed his hand, pulling him to the crowded (makeshift) dance floor, immediately grinding yourself against him. 

His hands were large and warm, splayed against your waist as they moved your body against his, small and breathy moans leaving his mouth every once in a while as his head fell in the crook of your neck. 

A few songs later and the next thing you knew you were outside in the alley behind the bar against the wall making out with the handsome stranger you had yet to learn the name of. 

Fuck,” you gasped when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, undoubtedly working on leaving some type of mark on you, “Sebastian,” you heard him mumble, confusing you. 

“What?” You asked, still panting against his face, your arms still laced around his neck, “my name,” he said, “it’s Sebastian,” he repeated as you smirked, crashing your lips against his, “take me home, Sebastian” you whispered in a sultry tone before he grabbed your hand and flagging a cab down. 

 The cab ride to his place was filled with not-so-subtle touches as you both looked out of your respective windows, trying not to draw any attention to your states, which clearly didn’t work. 

Sebastian nearly dragged you out of the cab, quickly paying the driver before bolting into his building to the stairs, “it’s only the second floor,” he assured as you nodded but all you could focus was how broad his shoulders were. 

“I’m gonna fucking wreck you, doll,” he growled against your ear the second he had the door closed causing shivers to erupt on your skin as you followed him into the bedroom. 


Your head was pounding and every muscle in your body seemed to scream stop when you tried to sit or stand up. When you finally managed to muster up the strength to sit up and open your eyes you realised you were not, in fact, in your own bed. 

You gasped when you saw a man beside you, cursing when you couldn’t remember his name, even though it was right on the tip of your tongue. You checked your phone and found that it had thirty percent and you nearly cheered out loud. 

Quickly pulling on your clothes you took one last look at the very handsome sleeping man before walking out of his apartment, and making the walk to yours. 


Monday came sooner than you wanted it to, but your weekend was eventful and you couldn’t be happier at making the choice to go out on Friday. Your friends had pried every single detail from your night when you got home. You told them everything you could remember, but leaving out some of the more graphic details. 

You still couldn’t remember his name, you tried looking through your contacts to see if he maybe added his number, but nothing. It was still on the tip of your tongue, in the back of your mind, but you just couldn’t get it out. 

Either way, you knew you had to push the man out of your thoughts as you rushed to get ready for your first class. You hit snooze just one too many times and you were running behind. Figuring you’d have to skip on breakfast you grabbed a granola bar before rushing out of your apartment. 

You lived practically right beside campus, thankfully, so when you stepped on campus and saw your building you were relieved, it was the first day of classes as well, it shouldn’t be a problem if you’re a little late, right?

It was weird being on campus and in your mid-twenties surrounded by young eighteen year olds scurrying to find their classes, you almost laughed remembering your own panic when you had to find your classes as a freshman. 

Walking into the large building you quickly descended the stairs and into the basement before walking down to the end of the hall finally reaching the lecture hall and pulling the doors open, stumbling in. 

The room was quite, so quite as you clumsily stumbled in. Every single pair of eyes was on you as you made your way to the only seemingly empty seat at the front of the hall, slumping down in your seat. 

“As I was saying,” a male voice caught your attention, “my name is Dr. Stan, but you can call me Sebastian,” your heart dropped to your stomach as you slowly lifted your head to meet the same blue eyes, both your jaws tensing. 

“Let’s begin,” Sebastian said, his eyes lingering on yours for a second longer before turning to grab the textbook. 


“You slept with your professor!” Nat screeched, howling laughter continuing as you buried your head into the couch cushion as she continued laughing at your misery, “it’s not funny, we could both get in serious trouble,” you told her, sitting up as she raised a brow. 

“And why should anyone find out?” She questioned as you sighed, “I don’t know…” you trailed off realising just how paranoid you were being, “you’re both adults and you slept with him before you even knew he was gonna be teaching you,” she said, reassuring you as you nodded your head, slumping back against the couch. 

“I can’t even look at him without turning into a tomato,” you groaned as Nat let out another loud laugh, “you have leverage now,” she grinned mischievously as you rolled her eyes, “you’re ridiculous,” you laughed as she shrugged her shoulders, taking another sip of her drink. 

Your first class with Dr. Stan, or Sebastian as he preferred, was awkward nonetheless. You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, barely making any notes as your mind screamed you’ve seen him naked! over and over again. 

It’s true though, whatever he was doing, you could picture him doing it naked, as gross, disturbing, and wrong as that sounded you just couldn’t help yourself. You knew he must’ve been uncomfortable as well because he would cough or stumble on his words every time his eyes landed on yours. 

Thankfully you didn’t have another one of his lectures until Thursday, hopefully you’d be able to push aside what happened and be professional. You’d just have to wait and see. 


You stood at his desk looking everywhere and anywhere other than him his words ringing in your mind, “Miss. [Y/L/N], may I have a word with you?” His voice just kept replaying in your mind, psyching yourself out for what he was going to say. 

You heard the door close as the last student was finally out, leaving just you and Sebastian, “so,” he said, clearing his throat as you finally looked up at him, almost out of reflex. 

God he was gorgeous. Dark brown locks brushed neatly behind his ears, his piercing blue eyes looking directly at you, his tailed suit hugging every curve of his body, no wonder you slept with him in the first place. 

“I just wanted to talk to you about, well,” he chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his head as he looked at his feet. He was just as nervous about this as you, possibly more. 

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, his head shooting up at the sound of your voice, “neither of us knew you’d be teaching me and we were both a little intoxicated,” you assured him with a small smile he mimicked. 

“Right,” he spoke, “it doesn’t have to be weird at all,” even you knew that was a lie. Neither of you could look at each other without being flustered and neither of you were good at covering up your emotions. 

“It’s probably gonna be a little weird,” you laughed as he laughed as well, tipping his head to the side as he admired you, “that was a great night,” he whispered as both your laughter died down. 

Your breath hitched as he said that, a wave of arousal flowing through you as you remembered what you both did that night, “it’s illegal,” you warned, although you didn’t sound too convincing, “it wasn’t on that night,” he smirked as you straightened up, gaining some confidence. 

“Well, Dr. Stan,” you spoke in a fake preppy tone, “I must warn you that you’re venturing into some very dangerous waters,” now your tone was much more sultry than anything. You watched as he took a few steps towards you, his eyes much darker than when you first started talking to them. 

“Careful, Miss [Y/L/N], you don’t wanna start something you can’t finish,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your face, “who says I can’t finish it?” You smirked as he bit his lip, trying his hardest not to take you right then and there. 

The sound of voices outside the lecture hall made both you and Sebastian jump back just in time for the door to open and a new group of students came pouring in, “see you on Monday, Sebastian,” you smiled, returning to your normal voice before spinning on the heels of your feet and walking out of the hall. 

The second you were outside you let out a large sigh, you were in deep and there was no way anyone was coming out of this unscathed. Fuck. 


A/N: this is gonna be a mini-series so there’s gonna be more parts I promise!!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in it!

Xiumin as your boyfriend

- headcanons that nobody asked for but everyone wants 11/10

The Beginnings:

  • He strikes me as the type of person to want to have a pretty steady bond with someone before dating them.
  • You two would likely start out as good if not flirty friends, but after some time he’d give in to his feelings and take you on a date.
  • It’d be something simple but cute, either Starbucks or a walk in the park and then going to a food-truck. Idk anything he thinks up on the spot that means you’d get to know each other better so probs not a movie.

After dating a while:

  • Somehow he’d know everything about you, since he’s such a trustworthy person you’d end up telling him new random little things about you most every day.
  • Speaking of trustworthy, you’d have only one Relationship Groundrule: no getting jealous unless there was something to be jealous about.
  • Meaning, he wouldn’t care who your friends are, you wouldn’t care who he’s hanging with, neither of you would ever be worried about the other cheating etc.
  • He’s just such an honest and sincere person I can’t imagine him ever not taking a relationship seriously and fucking behind your back.
  • For your first anniversary he’d take you somewhere special, maybe even splash out on a weekend away or something romantic.
  • He’d constantly feel guilty when he has to leave for tour or concerts, even if he would only be gone a couple days.
  • Even after you reassure him you don’t mind and that you’d soon see each other again, he’d pout and cuddle into you. He misses you and wants to be with you all the time.
  • This is a good time to mention; he is quite clingy.
  • Minseok would cherish and crave being with you. He’s not intense to be with like the beagle line thankfully, he’s gentle and relaxing to have around.
  • Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments.
  • Every now and then he has a “mad 5 minutes” and he laughs and teases and pokes you, making a total bellend of himself tbh whilst you try and fail to keep a straight face.

Habits and other shit:

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

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Your hands are Really Nice- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: (requested) Reader is too shy to tell Jughead about her feelings, so Veonica and Betty take matters in to their own hands (mostly Veronica)

Warnings: Swears, fluff so much fluff I couldn’t even deAL

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Being in love with your best friend isn’t easy. It feels taboo, like it’s wrong, and unhealthy. You’ll lay awake at ungodly hours of the night, wondering “How did this happen?” You’ll replay every moment of every waking minute you spent with them, wondering how in the world you ended up lying on your floor with an empty bowl of ramen beside your head and imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. You’ll catch yourself admiring the tiniest insignificant things about them, and every detail of their stupidly cute face, and every indent and curve and freckle on their body, and let me tell you, it sucks. Falling in love with your best friend isn’t easy, especially when your best friend is Jughead Jones.


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

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

Teacher (M)

Plot: Maybe asking your Korean teacher for help wasn’t such a bad idea. Good grades weren’t the only thing you were going to achieve from that.

Pairing: Teacher! Jung Hoseok x Student! reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Oral (receiving), Moaning denial, just full-on hardcore Jung Hoseok the sexy beast

Note: This is probably the first time I’m actually posting smut. It took me quite a while to write, considering it was very long, and I need to be in a certain mood for it. Thank you to my friend for giving me this idea. Please forgive me if there are any errors, english isn’t my first language. 3657 Words

P.S. You are 19 in this, and Hoseok is 25. I do not support all that underage sex stuff. Everything here is legal (wrong – please don’t fuck your teacher no matter how hot he is – but legal).

Korean Literature was probably your least favorite subject. You hated just everything about it – well – excluding the teacher. He always greeted you with a smile, asked you if you wanted help. You were the only foreigner in the class, after all. He gave you so much special attention, and you wouldn’t mind it at all. Unfortunately, that didn’t change your view on the subject. No matter how hard you tried, you always got a low grade.

“Okay students, remember we have a test on the new poem this Friday,” His voice echoed through your ears, breaking you out of your trance.

There was a solemn look on your face, while you stared out the window. Your eyes stayed on the uniformed kids flooding out of the school gates, while your nail dug under the staple holding your latest spelling test together.

5 out of 10. It was better than the last one.

No matter how bad it got, you always had this urge to try. You always wanted to keep studying for a higher score, but you just never seemed to understand everything that was thrown at you. It was like everything registered into your brain, but it never stayed – it disappeared, unlike your determination to do well.

As your eyes flickered over to the teacher, a nervous feeling settled in your chest. You now stayed after school for that exact reason. A few days ago, Hoseok had offered to help tutor you for an hour everyday until the test. It had been at least a week since he started, and you could safely say that you were getting better.

“Are you ready to start?” 

“Yeah.”

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