every time i put this on i never want to take it off

anonymous asked:

I need the story of the Underground Shakespearian Ring

Okay, so the school I went to for 9th grade had this really bizarre grading setup that I still don’t understand- for some reason, instead of the teachers writing up and grading tests and exams and the like, all the work was sent to an unknown third party for them to grade??? It made no sense.

Now, for the most part, the school had decent teachers, and they would just teach the curriculum correctly and then you wouldn’t run into problems with the grading. My English teacher was not one of those teachers.

So like, she hated me pretty early on- she was my homeroom teacher and thought it was disrespectful that I slept in homeroom in the mornings (I was on sleeping pills and they never wore off completely until around 10am), I never had the vocab homework in on time (someone kept breaking into my locker and stealing my vocab books I had to buy a new one like five times), she thought it was “inherently pessimistic and stuck up” when she caught me reading a book called ‘Ninth Grade Slays’ (it was about vampires, not her?), and during our Greek Mythology unit I kept correcting her about the name pronunciations of the gods (she pronounced Hephaestus as Hepatitis one time holy shit). 

Anyway, her feelings on me aside, her teaching skills were shoddy at best. But I had had way worse teachers, so had the rest of the class, and Greek myths are pretty straight-up in what’s going on, so no one really had trouble with the third-party tests.

Then we get to the Romeo and Juliet unit.

Now, fun fact: Shakespeare has always come pretty easily to me. Like, to the point where I sometimes forget/fail to understand that other people have an incredibly hard time translating his works. (I told this whole story to my friends in the school I went to for 10th/11th/12th grade and when the drama department put on ‘Midsummers Night Dream’ one year, more than half the cast tried to get me to translate their scripts and monologues for them lmao).

So, anyway, I’m just a girl, reading Romeo and Juliet and digging how it’s going…and then the teacher starts ‘translating’ it.

Um.

I cannot sift through all the bullshit this woman was spewing, but let’s just say that my favorite part is during Romeo’s spew about Rosaline, there’s one part where he says something like ‘with cupid’s arrow/she hath diane’s will’, and the teacher was taking this to mean Rosaline was a Super Lesbian who was breaking the law or something and running away with her lover Diane, which would be a rad storyline, sure, but like…I’m just raising my hand like “Um Ma’am, Diana is the Roman goddess of chastity. What Romeo meant is that she told him she’s sworn off love and is probably becoming a nun?” and this woman just got. So angry. Like, excuse me, you are a student, you’re here to learn, so you clearly don’t know anything about this (I read Romeo and Juliet for the first time in like preschool whoops). Anyway, she continues on making up her own plot to the play, and I…well I was basically Hermione Fucking Granger at this point I couldn’t just sit there and listen to someone be this wrong about something omfg??? She just got angrier and angrier and stopped calling on me after a while.

So for a couple lessons I’m just left to seethe quietly, but one day after class this girl I knew since grade school came up to me and was like “Could you…? Tell me what the hell we’re supposed to be learning?” and I didn’t even like her but I liked the validation of being someone’s Chosen Teacher so I wrote out a summary for her of everything we had covered so far so she could actually write a comprehendible essay for our homework that night.

But THEN the during the class when we got our essays back, she made a HUGE DEAL, like ‘oh Molly, it wasn’t bad enough that you’ve been failing this course material, now you have to drag your friends into it by trying to re-write the play?’ (l m a o). Like this bitch had literally tried to fight me on ‘Paris is the guy Juliet’s father wants her to marry’ and she didn’t even put a grade on my essay where I said the play only ended in tragedy because of how young and naïve the kids were, that if they had taken a breather and thought things through it probably would’ve been fine (it was a damn good essay and I stand by it). But anyway, she’s trying to make me out to my classmate’s as someone who’s trying to sabotage their education for laughs.

This backfired on her.

See, it dawned on people one by one, that she was only teaching the wrong material -> so they wouldn’t know the right material -> so when they eventually would take the exams they would only have her crazy answers -> which the third party graders wouldn’t know about -> everyone fails this course that’s like half the overall grade of the year.

Most students consider that a problem.

So suddenly the class has decided I’m the fucking Shakespeare Whisperer or something, and one by one start begging me for help. At first I was confused, because as I said, it’s so easy for me that I didn’t realize literally the entire class was lost out of their asses here. omfg. So I was really getting hassled here but I didn’t want my entire class to fail you know???? So I started meeting with people during study halls or texting them after school so they knew what was going on. And then they started telling people in this teacher’s other classes, including upperclassmen who were lost as fuck, so this was quickly spiraling out of control on my end, but overall people were really starting to understand the plays better!! So I was feeling really great.

But then, the teacher noticed that none of the homework getting handed in to her matched up with her crazy translations, and knew I was the sole person to blame (naturally). She literally tried to get me suspended over this, she went to the school’s disciplinarian!

Note: This guy, Mr. C, knew I was a God damn angel- my science class was off the charts, inappropriately awful, so every time one of our science teacher’s wanted to give the entire class detention, instead of calling Mr. C up to the class room as was the rule, they’d send me down to get him so he’d know to write up every student except for me. So when my English teacher dragged me in there he was looking her like “What on Earth could this girl have possibly done to piss you off?” 😂😂

And when she explained he looked at her for a very long moment, glanced at me with a signature ‘Office’ Reaction Face™ , turned back to her and was like “You want her suspended…for starting a study group?” and I was CHOKING.

So that really pissed her off and they started fighting and this was a very overworked and Done man so at some point he gave up and was like “I’m not suspending her but fine we can put a ban on the study group if you leave my office” omfg. So all the other students get notified and now they’re back to freaking out about the upcoming exams.

So like two days later, I’m at lunch, complaining about this to one of my friends who had a different English teacher and thus no problem, and I’m on this whole angry rant (Because I’m pissed, a bunch of kid’s grades are gonna get fucked up because of this! They just wanted to do well! I just wanted to help them!) and my friends staring at me quietly the whole time and when I finish I’m like “What?” and she’s just like “…Molly did you literally start up Dumbledore’s Army in our fucking school?” and I died on scene.

But then I started thinking about the comparison and I was like? You know fucking what? If Harry Potter can get those kids to pass their fucking DADA test I can help kids pass their fucking English Exam. Bring it the fuck on, Umbridge.

So I started Spreading The Word that anyone who needs help with their Shakespeare course can still get help, we just all need to meet up once to hash out the details. After some back and forth notes and deliberations, we ended up meeting in the school library, which was hilarious for a few reasons:

1) It was directly across the hall from this teacher’s classroom.

2) It was actually a converted janitors closet, way smaller than all the other classrooms, and there were like 50 people shoved in there; Not exactly an ideal Room of Requirement

3) The library carried no Shakespeare texts, but had the entire Harry Potter series on display to see when you first walked in

But anyway, despite the fact that we were literally three feet away from her door while we were doing this, our teacher was none the wiser of the meeting. We worked out a game plan- everyone writes out bullshit essays that align with what the teacher’s expecting. After she grades those and gives them back, they get them to me- slipping them in my locker, handing it to me discreetly in the halls or in another class, what have you. I then try to power through the dizzying amount of confusion radiating out of the teacher’s mouth and onto these papers, and more or less write out better translation of what was going on in whatever scene they covered, what the highlights they needed to know were, stuff like that, and then slip it back to them in similar discreet fashion (so the teacher/disciplinarian wouldn’t see me and get suspicious ; also because I was like 15 and wanted to feel like a super cool secret agent). They would then keep my copies and use them as study guides for the upcoming exams, where they would then answer all the questions correctly, the way the third party graders would mark correctly, and pass the exams + the bullshit essays would get them high marks in the teacher’s homework grades. The teacher never caught on to what was happening, just thought her students finally started paying attention to her.

All in all, it was a complicated mess, but it fucking worked. I don’t think anyone failed their exams that year. Will I ever be cooler? No. I think I fucking peaked when I was 15.

Internal Conflict:  Five Conflicting Traits of a Likable Hero.

1.  Flaws and Virtues 

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but characters without flaws are boring.  This does not, as many unfortunate souls take it to mean, imply that good, kind, or benevolent characters are boring:  it just means that without any weaknesses for you to poke at, they tend to be bland-faced wish fulfillment on the part of the author, with a tendency to just sit there without contributing much to the plot.

For any character to be successful, they need to have a proportionate amount of flaws and virtues.

Let’s take a look at Stranger Things, for example, which is practically a smorgasbord of flawed, lovable sweethearts.

We have Joyce Byers, who is strung out and unstable, yet tirelessly works to save her son, even when all conventional logic says he’s dead;  We have Officer Hopper, who is drunken and occasionally callous, yet ultimately is responsible for saving the boy’s life;  We have Jonathan, who is introspective and loving, but occasionally a bit of a creeper, and Nancy, who is outwardly shallow but proves herself to be a strong and determined character.  Even Steve, who would conventionally be the popular jerk who gets his comeuppance, isn’t beyond redemption.

And of course, we have my beloved Eleven, who’s possibly the closest thing Stranger Things has to a “quintessential” heroine.  She’s the show’s most powerful character, as well as one of the most courageous.  However, she is also the show’s largest source of conflict, as it was her powers that released the Demogorgon to begin with.  

Would Eleven be a better character if this had never happened?  Would Stranger Things be a better show?  No, because if this had never happened, Stranger Things wouldn’t even be a show.  Or if it was, it would just be about a bunch of cute kids sitting around and playing Dungeons and Dragons in a relatively peaceful town.

A character’s flaws and mistakes are intended to drive the plotline, and if they didn’t have them, there probably wouldn’t even be a plot.

So don’t be a mouth-breather:  give your good, kind characters some difficult qualities, and give your villains a few sympathetic ones.  Your work will thank you for it.

2.  Charisma and Vulnerability

Supernatural has its flaws, but likable leads are not one of them.  Fans will go to the grave defending their favorite character, consuming and producing more character-driven, fan-created content than most other TV shows’ followings put together.

So how do we inspire this kind of devotion with our own characters?  Well, for starters, let’s take a look at one of Supernatural’s most quintessentially well-liked characters:  Dean Winchester.

From the get-go, we see that Dean has charisma:  he’s confident, cocky, attractive, and skilled at what he does.  But these qualities could just as easily make him annoying and obnoxious if they weren’t counterbalanced with an equal dose of emotional vulnerability. 

As the show progresses, we see that Dean cares deeply about the people around him, particularly his younger brother, to the point of sacrificing himself so that he can live.  He goes through long periods of physical and psychological anguish for his benefit (though by all means, don’t feel obligated to send your main character to Hell for forty years), and the aftermath is depicted in painful detail.

Moreover, in spite of his outward bravado, we learn he doesn’t particularly like himself, doesn’t consider himself worthy of happiness or a fulfilling life, and of course, we have the Single Man Tear™.

So yeah, make your characters beautiful, cocky, sex gods.  Give them swagger.  Just, y’know.  Hurt them in equal measure.  Torture them.  Give them insecurities.  Make them cry.  

Just whatever you do, let them be openly bisexual.  Subtext is so last season.

3.  Goals For the Future and Regrets From the Past

Let’s take a look at Shadow Moon from American Gods.  (For now, I’ll have to be relegate myself to examples from the book, because I haven’t had the chance to watch the amazing looking TV show.) 

Right off the bat, we learn that Shadow has done three years in prison for a crime he may or may not have actually committed.  (We learn later that he actually did commit the crime, but that it was only in response to being wronged by the true perpetrators.)  

He’s still suffering the consequences of his actions when we meet him, and arguably, for the most of the book:  because he’s in prison, his wife has an affair (I still maintain that Laura could have resisted the temptation to be adulterous if she felt like it, but that’s not the issue here) and is killed while mid-coital with his best friend.

Shadow is haunted by this for the rest of the book, to the point at which it bothers him more than the supernatural happenings surrounding him.  

Even before that, the more we learn about Shadow’s past, the more we learn about the challenges he faced:  he was bullied as a child, considered to be “just a big, dumb guy” as an adult, and is still wrongfully pursued for crimes he was only circumstantially involved in.

But these difficulties make the reader empathize with Shadow, and care about what happens to him.  We root for Shadow as he tags along with the mysterious and alternatively peckish and charismatic Wednesday, and as he continuously pursues a means to permanently bring Laura back to life.

He has past traumas, present challenges, and at least one goal that propels him towards the future.  It also helps that he’s three-dimensional, well-written, and as of now, portrayed by an incredibly attractive actor.

Of course (SPOILER ALERT), Shadow never does succeed in fully resurrecting Laura, ultimately allowing her to rest instead, but that doesn’t make the resolution any less satisfying.  

Which leads to my next example…       

4.  Failure and Success 

You remember in Zootopia, when Judy Hopps decides she wants to be cop and her family and town immediately and unanimously endorse her efforts?  Or hey, do you remember Harry Potter’s idyllic childhood with his kindhearted, adoptive family?  Oh!  Or in the X-Files, when Agent Mulder presents overwhelming evidence of extraterrestrial life in the first episode and is immediately given a promotion?  No?

Yeah, me neither.  And there’s a reason for this:  ff your hero gets what they want the entire time, it will be a boring, two-dimensional fantasy that no one will want to read.  

A good story is not about the character getting what they want.  A good story is about the character’s efforts and their journey.  The destination they reach could be something far removed from what they originally thought they wanted, and could be no less (if not more so) satisfying because of it.

Let’s look at Toy Story 3, for example:  throughout the entire movie, Woody’s goal is to get his friends back to their longtime owner, Andy, so that they can accompany him to college.  He fails miserably.  None of his friends believe that Andy was trying to put them in the attic, insisting that his intent was to throw them away.  He is briefly separated from them as he is usurped by a cute little girl and his friends are left at a tyrannical daycare center, but with time and effort, they’re reunited, Woody is proven right, and things seem to be back on track.

Do his efforts pay off?  Yes – just not in the way he expected them to.  At the end of the movie, a college-bound Andy gives the toys away to a new owner who will play with them more than he will, and they say goodbye.  Is the payoff bittersweet?  Undoubtedly.  It made me cry like a little bitch in front of my young siblings.  But it’s also undoubtedly satisfying.      

So let your characters struggle.  Let them fail.  And let them not always get what they want, so long as they get what they need.  

5.  Loving and Being Loved by Others

Take a look back at this list, and all the characters on it:  a gaggle of small town kids and flawed adults, demon-busting underwear models, an ex-con and his dead wife, and a bunch of sentient toys.  What do they have in common?  Aside from the fact that they’re all well-loved heroes of their own stories, not much.

But one common element they all share is they all have people they care about, and in turn, have people who care about them.  

This allows readers and viewers to empathize with them possibly more than any of the other qualities I’ve listed thus far, as none of it means anything without the simple demonstration of human connection.

Let’s take a look at everyone’s favorite caped crusader, for example:  Batman in the cartoons and the comics is an easy to love character, whereas in the most recent movies (excluding the splendid Lego Batman Movie), not so much. 

Why is this?  In all adaptions, he’s the same mentally unstable, traumatized genius in a bat suit.  In all adaptions, he demonstrates all the qualities I listed before this:  he has flaws and virtues, charisma and vulnerability, regrets from the past and goals for the future, and usually proportionate amounts of failure and success.  

What makes the animated and comic book version so much more attractive than his big screen counterpart is the fact that he does one thing right that all live action adaptions is that he has connections and emotional dependencies on other people.  

He’s unabashed in caring for Alfred, Batgirl, and all the Robins, and yes, he extends compassion and sympathy to the villains as well, helping Harley Quinn to ultimately escape a toxic and abusive relationship, consoling Baby Doll, and staying with a child psychic with godlike powers until she died.

Cartoon Batman is not afraid to care about others.  He has a support network of people who care about him, and that’s his greatest strength.  The DC CU’s ever darker, grittier, and more isolated borderline sociopath is failing because he lacks these things.  

 And it’s also one of the reasons that the Lego Batman Movie remains so awesome.


God willing, I will be publishing fresh writing tips every week, so be sure to follow my blog and stay tuned for future advice and observations! 

That Night

I had just come out the shower and was now chilling in my boxers. There I was laying in my bed watching the Justice League DVD on a Saturday night while my room mate was out having fun at the club on this rainy night. In my opinion, this was a better way to spend my night instead of going out in the rain to get sick. I am Derek, a slender light skinned black male with brown eyes. I’m not much of a party enthusiast as most in my age category of 18 are but I am human and my dick was starting to make me aware of that fact as it ascended from slumber. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m a virgin. I lowered the TV volume and just as I was about to give it some attention, there was a text notification sound on my phone .

Me (Derek Towers)

My friend AJ hit me up on whatsapp. Now AJ was an attractive guy with an amazing ass and what I had to guess was a pretty good size dick. I could only imagine as I saw the outline once while we were on the beach. AJ was an easygoing fellow about a year older than myself. We met at my job at the hotel where I was a waiter and he was a lifeguard. He was cool and we got along great but he was ridiculously homophobic and there was no way I was going to let him know that I played for both teams.

After our conversation, I still had my little problem. I opened the tumblr app on my phone and scrolled down looking at sexy guys for hours, occasionally watching some porn video. Eventually, I saw a new story by my favorite author @morrisondauthor​ entitled  “Freak by Night 7: Freaky Sneaky.” His stories are always so sexy that I find myself ejaculating before I get to the end. I get so upset when he takes a while to post his stories because they give me life and take me to a world I could never imagine. For some reason, the context usually gets me hornier than the images he uses. I got to the good part and it made me so close to my climax when my phone notification alarmed me. If you haven’t guessed, it was AJ letting me know he got home safely. He went on to tell me about his night and how he had four rounds of sex with his date in her car and she came all 4 times. I was so jealous, I was trying to come once to satisfy myself and he interrupted me boasting about his extravagant time. Now all I had in my mind were images of his sexy ass f***ing her sexy ass in the car and my vivid imagination made me ten times hornier. I had to get my nut so I told him the truth.

Me: You got your nut now I’m going to work on mine

Him: With Pamela? 😂😂😂 Night. Don’t forget the jergens.

I didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead I went to the living room and sat in the couch with nothing on but my boxer briefs. My dick stuck fully erect through the hole in my boxers and I jacked away once again replaying Morrison’s story in my head imagining it was me coming down the stairs to a sexy surprise. The sound of the thunderstorm outside with sprinkles of rain violently pelleting the window fueled my hormones and I could feel my balls ready to release the seed from their constraints. Suddenly there was a loud crash at my doorstep synonymous with a lightning bolt outside which ignited fear into my heart and caused me to forget that I was horny. Cautiously I approached the door and peered through the peep hole to notice nobody standing in the hallway. Still my curiosity wouldn’t let me rest so I opened the door ready to put my self defense skills to the test if I needed it. Imagine my disappointment when I viewed my roommate, Kevin wet from head to toe lying at our doorstep in the fetal position. He appeared to be highly intoxicated and since he doesn’t have a car, I can only assume that a Good Samaritan literally dropped him at the door. As the epinephrine wore off, I started to realize that I was once again disturbed from achieving my natural high.

Even though I was upset, I couldn’t leave him there like that so I dragged him inside. Like AJ, Kevin was straight, usually requesting that I keep the “gay shit” to myself. Yes, he knew about me. I’ve known him since we were kids because we were neighbors and grew up living in each other’s homes. When I found out that I had a taste for both girls and boys, I was around 13 and Kevin was the only person I told at the time. His reaction to the news could have been better. He called me a faggot and stormed out of my house. We didn’t speak for weeks afterward. Eventually he came to me randomly one day and apologized. I couldn’t forgive him and asked him to leave letting him know just how much he hurt me. He didn’t give up though and proved himself from that day forth that he wanted to be my best friend again. He fought off bullies, walked with me home from school and acted like the friend he was before I told him. I forgave him after a while and we were boys again. He constantly tries to get me to go out and drink with him but like I said before, I really don’t have a taste for it. We got this apartment when we moved to Florida for college and we get along well despite his occasional battles with alcoholism. Even so, it’s never been this bad.Kevin loved the gym and he worked out every weekday evening at 5 and went jogging every morning at 6. He took his physical health very seriously which is why I never understood why he drank alcohol. He also managed to maintain above average grades for his track and field scholarship at UCF.

Kevin Dill

I lifted Kevin off the floor and even though he was rather heavy, got him to the bathtub and removed the wet clothes from his barely responsive body. I haven’t seen him naked since we took baths together as kids but when I saw his naked body I had to step back and admire the marvelous muscular masterpiece. My eyes wandered to his dick which wasn’t even hard yet his uncircumcised attachment was 7 inches long and fatter towards the base. I finally snapped back into reality left to get a glass of warm water and an empty bucket in case he vomited. I ran some warm water in the bathtub and thoroughly bathed him. I couldn’t believe I was cleaning a grown man, but I didn’t want him to go into hypothermia. Not only was he drunk, but he was also wet from the cold rain. He started to gain a reasonable level of consciousness.

“Derek? What are you doing?”

“You’re drunk and cold just relax and drink this.”

I gave him an aspirin and the glass of warm water and watched him take it.

“I’m naked”

“I know”

“Why?”

“You were wet and unconscious”

“You couldn’t let me sleep it off?”

“I’m sorry would you rather get a cold or die from dehydration and hypothermia?”

He sucked his teeth, “you didn’t have to remove my boxers.”

“Hey if it’s wet it comes off.”

“Get out,” he said covering his private area.

“Nope, you could pass out at any minute. Look, I already lifted your heavy ass in here, removed your clothes by myself then took my bare hands and wiped your dirty ass. In fact it was my hands that peeled back your foreskin and cleaned your penis. It’s a little too late for modesty.”

He was speechless so I said, “What’s that on the floor? Pick it up you’re making a mess.”

He looked down, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Your bottom lip, now get out the tub and come dry off”

“Ha Ha…very funny,” he sarcastically mumbled as he stumbled out the bathtub.

I was right there to catch him with a towel and prevent him from falling. I began to dry his body when he smartly remarked, “I can do it myself you know”

I removed my body support and he dropped to the ground barely breaking his fall with his forearms.

“I thought you had it.”

“Help me up”

“Help me up what?”

“Help me up please”

“Help me up please what?”

“D’, I’m not saying that”

“Ok,” I began to leave the room.

“Fine, Please help me up Supreme Overlord Towers”

“No problem.” I helped him up and noticed he had an erection.

“Friend of yours?” I teased.

“Shut up!”

I assisted him to his bedside and helped him slide on his boxers.

“I feel so embarrassed,” he admitted

“Why? It’s just us here, chill.”

“This is not fair. You’ve seen me naked now and I even got hard,” he slapped his face in embarrassment.

“We used to bathe together all the time, washing each other’s backs and laughing at each other’s nakedness. What’s the big deal?”

He couldn’t make eye contact and stayed quiet so after sucking my teeth, I slid off my boxers, threw them to the side and danced around in a circle wagging my dick from left to right.

“Woah!” He exclaimed.

“Now I don’t have on anything. Are you happy now?”

He laughed hysterically, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Go to bed.” I helped him lay down and covered him with a warm blanket.

I turned around to leave but to my surprise, he grabbed my hand, “Please, don’t leave me again.”

“Again? I never left you.”

He burst into tears, “yes you did. When I called you by that word and you got upset with me, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I never wanted to lose my best friend. Those were the hardest months of my life, I never even cried over a girl like that.”

Confused, all I could say was, “This must be the alcohol talking.” I turned to leave again.

“Please!” He shouted.

“Okay, okay, just don’t yell like that again. The neighbors are sleeping.”

“Sleep here tonight.”

“If that would make you feel better, fine, but don’t vomit on me please.” I went to the corner to get my boxers.

“You don’t need those.”

Once again, confused but internally contented. I happily obliged, turned off the light went on the other side of his queen sized bed, pulling the covers over my exposed body.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

The sound of rain pattering on the window echoed in the room and I was falling asleep. Unexpectedly, I felt a warm gentle touch on my dick that slammed the emergency brake of the train to dreamland. My dick was being massaged by none other than my best friend. I silently protested in my head not wanting to disturb the amazing sensation I was feeling which caused me to leak pre-ejaculation fluid. My brain finally gained control and I managed to stop him.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Shh. Just let it happen.”

“Now you sound like a rapist. This has to be the alcohol affecting you. You are not in your right frame of mind.” I got up and as I was standing up to leave, he pulled my hand and I landed supine right on the side of him. He lay against me leaning on his side I could see the shadow of his head in front of me and I could feel he was staring at me. Lightning flashed and I saw the look in his eyes that paralyzed me for that moment. I felt the heat radiating from his head increasing in intensity as he slowly approached my face. I felt like Chris from Get Out in the hypnosis scene, helplessly watching this happen through the windows of my eyes. When the eternity passed and he connected with my lips, the curtains closed but I could sense the brightest flashes of lightning outside. I regained control and participated in the best kiss of my life. Opening our eyes and pulling apart met us with nature’s fireworks applauding our performance.

“Wow,” we chorused.

He grabbed my body and brought me into a passionate make out session, rubbing his well toned body against mine allowing me to once again feel it’s shape, this time against my own. He went down to the left side of my neck and started sucking on it while rubbing his hands all over my back down to my bare ass. I hate hickeys but the euphoria was too intense to stop. I felt electricity flowing through my body as he continued. He kissed his way down to my left nipple and I expressed a soft moan. It felt like there was a string directly attached to the pleasure nerves in my dickhead. He continued kissing down my abs until he got to my pubic hairs and he got up. My eyes opened reacting to the sudden pause. We breathed deeply and synchronized.

“I never did anything with a dude before,” he admitted

“I’m still a virgin,” I countered.

“I know.”

I felt my face blush with embarrassment only to be aroused with pleasure at the immediate moist warm sensation that came from the head of my dick. Did he really just put my dick in his mouth? I looked down and he continued down the nine and a half inch solid shaft managing to get half of it in his mouth. That was the most mind blowing feeling in my life.

“You sure you never did this before?”

He chuckled and continued up and down repetitively sending me to a new level of heaven. He paused again and I couldn’t handle any more suspense. I reversed our positions and did exactly as he did to me in the same sequence. I thought my reaction was intense but as I sucked his neck his hands went all over my body and their favorite place was my ass. I worked my way to his nipples and he let out the sexiest deep moan that I couldn’t compare to all my years of watching porn. It send jolts through my body causing me to be extra turned on. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to know what that dick tasted like. I skipped his abs and went straight to his pubic hairs which like mine were short lavishing in the musk they produced. I licked his dick from the base along the underside to the tip where I licked around the head tasting the pheromones produced. I experimented sticking my tongue in the entrance and he jumped.

“That was intense!” he smiled

I continued taking his head in my throat and he rewarded me with another deep moan. I continued my assault down the shaft attempting to go as far as I could. I made it as far as about 3 inches when ii felt my teeth hit his skin and I pulled back thinking about how much that hurt.

“Easy with the teeth baby”

Baby? If I wasn’t black I’m sure my face would be an apple right now. I tried again, this time opening my mouth as wide as I could and I made it down 5 inches of his eleven before I started to choke and retreat for air. He moaned again and that made me determined to get to the base. I went for it again this time holding my breath and swallowing as I went down fighting hard to resist the urge to cough. I think I made it as far as 9 inches that time but it was as far as I could possibly go. He let out another deep moan lasting longer than any of the predecessors.

“Damn baby no girl ever committed to going that far down.”

I was happy to satisfy him but after that I went up and down taking in only what I could manage, slobbering all over that sexy tool of his. After a few minutes, he pulled my head up and lead me in another intense kiss.

“I want to make love to you baby.” He stared intimately at me.

“How?”

“I want to fuck you.”

“You gotta let me fuck you too”

“No way I’m letting you anywhere near my ass with that thing.” He protested

“And I’m supposed to let you in mine?”

“Yeah but I love you and I want to prove it to you by taking your virginity.”

“I love you too and you can prove your love by letting me fuck you and take your virginity as well”

“I’m not a virgin.”

“Your ass is.”

“You always did have a smart mouth. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

“Well, the ball is in your court”

“Ugh….Okay, just go easy on me please.”

“I could say the same.”

“Okay turn over.”

“Umm no. We need to do a couple things to prepare first”

“We? Things like what?”

“Yes we! Come on, I’ll show you”

I went in my bedroom and grabbed my fleet. It’s a good thing I got two new bottles just in case a miracle happened. Didn’t think I’d get to use them so soon. I researched online how to prepare a long time ago and even practiced a couple of times. I taught Kevin what to do and after a while we were ready. We returned to his bedroom and turned his desk lamp on dimly. The patter of the rain was the only sound for a brief moment.

“That felt wierd,” he complained.

“Well there’s one more step we have to take,” I handed him the tube of lube.

“Hold on no need to rush just yet, I want to taste that ass first,” He kissed me intently then moved both of my legs up and attacking my asshole like it was his last meal. I don’t know which was better, that blowjob or the other level he was sending me to while he ate me. I felt his tongue go places that I didn’t know anything could. All of a sudden, I had this epileptic episode I couldn’t control. I was so weak after he finally finished with me. He grabbed the lube and inserted a finger inside my hole to open me up. He worked his second finger in there. and was about to enter.

“You better go up to 4 fingers, that thing is huge”

The third finger hurt like pins and needles. and the fourth was even worse. I really thought I was bleeding. He waited until I was comfortable, somehow managing to remain hard during the entire exercise. I guess he was as horny as I was. He entered me in the missionary position and I felt a sudden sharp pain as he passed my sphincter that sent kilojoules of electricity through my body. I cried and wanted to stop but he held me down and comforted me,

“Relax baby, just relax.”

I took slow deep breaths until the pain eased and he did not move. He waited until I was comfortable before he continued penetrating me at a steady pace. He didn’t go all the way in but he started a slow rhythm with about three inches of his massive meat. He only went further when I was in agreement. I stopped the rhythm and pushed him on his back without severing our connection. Gently I lowered myself onto his rod taking inch by inch until to my surprise, I fit the whole thing in there. I was so proud I almost didn’t notice the euphoric look on Kevin’s face.

“Damn baby, you sexy as f***,” he complimented.

I began a steady rhythm on him and I could feel him hitting my spot every time. Our session went on for a while. We went in every position we could imagine possible until he had me on my belly leaning against the edge of the bed drilling me.

“Hold on baby, you’re going to make me come,” I warned.

“That’s the plan baby,” he smirked.

I realized what he was trying to do and used every will power I had to stop myself from coming and resist him, ending that part of our session.

“You think you’re slick. I’m f***ing your ass tonight.” I retaliated.

He had a look of disappointment on his face but he lie back, removed his condom and succumbed to my wishes. He lie on his back rolling his eyes and pulled his leg up to reveal the prettiest pink spot I’ve ever seen in my life (only one I saw in person but it didn’t compare to anything in porn). I had to treat something so precious with the utmost care. I gently licked it for a few minutes before I let my tongue explore every delicious crevice of his ass it could reach. I imagine his ass would taste like ass but his was surprisingly sweet. I stuck my tongue inside and was shocked when I heard a deep moan escape his lips. I guess he was enjoying this as much as I was. I continued until I tasted something extra sweet and when I looked at it, it was a white fluid. I think he came from his ass. Damn I made him cream from eating him. I couldn’t believe it. His ass was moister than my tongue and I tasted as much as I could before grabbing the bottle of lube. I didn’t think I’d need it but I did not want to hurt him nor did I want him to chicken out. I inserted 2 of my fingers and they went in without a struggle. I had to fight with the third and fourth because his ass had a constant death grip on them. I positioned myself for entry and took it slow with him, exercising as much care as he did me. Like myself, he seemed to experience discomfort with the infiltration of the head. So I repeated the process and let him get used to it. After a while, he told me to go ahead. I started a slow rhythm  and carefully eased inch by inch into him until i was working 5 inches inside him. Without warning, he reversed the situation and put himself on top like I did. He started riding me. I was speechless but it felt so good when he slammed all the way down onto my dick taking all of it. He looked so sexy, I watched as his pecks vibrated and his ass jiggled moving up and down on me. He was so sexy I wanted to cry at the beauty I was beholding. His mouth was wide open and his eyes closed with his head tilted back moaning. He was enjoying this as much as I was. Once again we had another session with multiple positions until I was backshotting him. He creamed on my dick again throughout the experience. It felt so good, I knew I would climax soon.  He tried to run but I managed to pull him back every time. He said it was too intense and he couldn’t take much more, begging me to cum.

“What’s my name?”

“Derek”

“Wrong!” I violently pounded him.

“What’s my name?”

“I don’t know.” He cried.

“Yea you do,” I pounded harder, “what’s my name?”

“Supreme (moan) Overlord (moan) Towers,” he cried out in pleasure. With those words, 2 weeks of tension building erupted into the condom flooding it with life fluid. I came for a minute straight. I didn’t even know that was possible. The condom had the most cum I’ve ever seen in my life inside and I have know idea how all that fit in there. I looked down to see that Kevin came too. His sheets were soaked in his liquid release. There was so much I was sure he produced more than I did. We struggled to catch our breaths for bout five minutes. It was still raining and we took a shower together and had another make out session. We dried off and went to my room in our birthday suits. He spooned me and we had a long intense discussion even though it was now 3 in the morning.

“I wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what? I’m your best friend.”

“I don’t know. I panicked that day you told me and the reason I freaked out is because I didn’t know how to react. I developed feelings for you and didn’t know how to express myself.”

“All these years and you wait until now to tell me. So what now?”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..


Disclaimer: Persons in the images used are not necessarily as the story describes do not reflect their character or sexuality. They are a mere depiction of each character’s features. However if there is a problem, please write me and they will be replaced by similar entities

© I. Black 2017

reddit.com
Men of Reddit, what innocent behaviors have you changed out of fear you might be accused of wrong doing? • r/AskReddit
14353 points and 13890 comments so far on reddit

Just a short selection of comments I found. It seems men can’t seem to get away from being called pedos and perverts.

Sticking to myself at shopping centers.

I’m a tall(6'3), bearded man who grew up in a small town of about 800. So I grew up holding the door for anyone, saying have a nice day or howdy everywhere I go, and help anyone with anything if they need it. It’s just how I was raised.

One day I was headed to my girlfriends house and decided to stop at Walmart to grab some snacks on the way down. I was 20 years old at the time, but for as big as I am and the beard you could confuse me for 25-30. Anyhow, I was standing in the chip isle and noticed a little girl no older than 5 wandering around looking frightened, so I walked over and said are you lost? And she just kept saying “ mommy ” so instantly trying to do the right thing I thought to take her to the cashier so she may call over the loud speaker and call for her mother. As I walked she held her hand up to hold mine and I thought nothing of it, being as I was only doing the logical thing. Next thing I know the mother runs up to me screaming and snatching her daughter up, calling me a kidnapper and threatening to call the police. I tried explaining the situation and where I was trying to take her, unfortunately she was an uneducated moron and at that point I got a little heated and decided to tell her to maybe not let her child run off next time. Moral of the story, I tried to do the right thing not even thinking about how it would look for a bearded man to be walking with your little girl, even though they shouldn’t of been left alone, but it’s definitely something I’ll never do again.

When shopping with my wife and she wants to try stuff on I just have her text me pictures of her outfits if she wants my opinion.

We were at Macy’s a few months ago and I was just patiently waiting outside the dressing room waiting for my wife and she would open the door and step out to get my opinion.

I was just looking at my phone and minding my own business when I notice people walking up to me. A middle aged woman had gotten a manager and she had brought a security official of some type and asked me to leave or they would be forced to call the police.

It was super embarrassing and now I feel super self-conscious when shopping with my wife.

I stopped going to the playground with my niece. She loves it when I’m there with her. Going on slides with her or pushing her swing. But according to the mother’s there and the old ladies its creepy for a man to go there, even with my niece.

At first I didn’t care, I just ignored them. But some even went as far to ask my niece who’s only 3 if I was her father and other inappropriate things. Even got the cops called on me twice and after explaining the situation and having to go as far as having to get my sister down there, they left. But I’m still a creep to the woman’s eyes. I don’t talk to the other kids, I say Hi back and answer them if they ask something.

But… I just don’t understand.

I’ve been getting driving lessons recently and after the first one the instructor dropped me off and when we were organising new lessons we just said we would meet at the same place. It’s outside a school.

We probably met there about 10 times at various parts of the day in a car with massive “Driver Learning School” stickers all over it.

A woman came up to me yesterday as told me how it was wierd that two men met there and how people were talking and how there were “weirdos” about who people thought were selling drugs and how we wouldn’t want anyone thinking we were “weirdos”.

I’m a large dude. I seem to get more scared of this at work.

I’ve been told I’m intimidating in meetings. I pay close attention to my tone and body language now.

I stare at the elevator doors with my headphones on, especially when a lady gets on.

When the kids charity uses our offices for events every few weeks, I go to a different floor to use a private bathroom so I’m not alone in a public bathroom with any kids.

I volunteer at cub scouts. No parent or scoutmaster (predominantly male) is allowed to take the children anywhere alone. Not even to let them play in the gym after the pack meeting.

A female colleague was leaving the company. I offered a handshake. She asked for a hug (which I gave). I told her that in a company with 60% women, you never assume a hug. She nodded and said ‘Fair point.’

I have a bad back. I asked for a place to lay down occasionally during the day for short periods of time. They told me to use the 'wellness room’. Which is built for and decorated for nursing moms. And it’s outside the women’s bathroom. I told them a 6'4" dude with a beard laying on the floor outside the women’s bathroom is not a good look. They agreed. I lay on the cold tile of the handicapped bathroom now.

All it takes is an accusation, even if wholly unfounded. The conversation will always be there. I make sure I don’t even put myself in that situation.

Baseball (M)

(I can’t get over baseball Jungkook so I had to write something)

╳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

╳ Genre: smut | One shot

╳ Summary: You hated being dragged to baseball games because your best friends boyfriend was on the team. But maybe this time wasn’t going to be so bad.


“You know I hate baseball” You said, your arm being dragged as your friend pulled you across your lawn.

“Yes, and basically any sport” Your friend Rylee said, unlocking her car door. “But today is his big game and I really want you to come along!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

In ur opinion what's the camren timeline look like ? Like when'd they date or take a break whoa date and break rhyme

I’m giving you the big lines… jk, it’s basically a whole fanfic 😂

2012 : Camila and Lauren meet on x-factor - instant attraction between them but neither of them wants to admit anything - it’s just a crush at this point - they become best friends through the course of the show - Lauren is also dating Keaton at the time 

2013 : Fifth Harmony is reunited and starts touring, the friendship is still there and strong. Camren is a playful ship, they interact on twitter and don’t hesitate to show affection. It’s Camren yo!  

Camila and Lauren spend more and more time together, feelings grow and it shows on camera - I believe Camila was more accepting of those feelings while Lauren had a little more trouble with them, probably already questioning her sexuality (at this point neither of them has admitted to anything)

While all of this is happening, the Camren ship as a romantic pairing takes off and as the fandom gets bigger so does the ship until it eventually reaches the girls. Lauren gets scared because she probably feels like her sexuality is written on her forehead and she’s not ready for that, plus she’s probably scared of losing Camila’s friendship and ruining their public image. That was the time when Lauren started lashing out at the fandom, calling us delusional and stating clearly that she was not bisexual. Camila, witnessing how hard Lauren is against any romantic association with her, is very hurt ( I think at this point she already had very strong feelings for Lauren) and starts distancing herself from her (that’s around June/July). Maybe Lauren thought Camila wanted to distance herself because it’s Camila who didn’t want to be associated romantically with her, which pissed Lauren off even more because she thought “Camren” was the reason she was losing her best friend. 

They stay distant until the end of the year - Lauren starts dating Luis, maybe a way to get Camila off her mind ( there are theories out there about Lauren and Luis’s relationship being p.r to shut down Camren, I guess it’s always a possibility). Anyhoo, during that time Camila’s feelings only grow stronger, probably pushed also by jealousy and I think eventually she confessed her feelings to Lauren, which Lauren couldn’t reciprocate since she was in a relationship.

2014 : little time has passed since Camila confessed her feelings and Lauren probably can’t get her out of her mind - I think that’s the reason why she eventually broke up with Luis. Once that was done, Lauren returned Camila’s feelings and there you have it : Camren finally together!

They probably shared their first kiss, which was also Camila’s first kiss, at that time - since Camila says her first kiss was at 16 (not sure since it changes every two interviews 😂) then the kiss must have happened either in January or February.

By March/April they’re full on together, they go on “dates” - the most famous one is the 1975 concert.

They both realize they’re very serious about this relationship and slowly tell their families about it (Sinu probably knew since day one 😂) - eventually the management finds out. Of course, tiny problemo, you can’t possibly have two members of a still very new girl group publicly in a lesbian relationship, no sir. To add to the situation, the Camren fandom is getting bigger, starts its own detective agency. 

I think the girls fought hard to be able to actually stay together, even if it had to be behind closed doors. They probably had to negotiate a lot, and part of that negotiation was for one of them to have a good p.r boyfriend, and unlucky us, they’re about to go on tour with Austin Mahone aka Dorito Boy.

The “relationship” between Dorito and Camila is sold to the medias - they’re just asked to appear together outside a few times, hold hands and that’s that - but it was probably already too much for jelly Lern who decided to shut this down real quick, which is why it only lasted like 3 weeks - the break up is staged and sold to the medias as well.

Since a p.r boyfriend for Camila is not an option anymore, maybe a p.r boyfriend for Lauren will work better - oh and look who’s coming with them on tour soon, the Vamps! The p.r relationship is put in place with asshole Brad - my own personal theory is that maybe he didn’t know exactly what the p.r was for and he started actually wanting to date Lauren for real but she shut him down, probably revealing her relationship with Camila, hence the song “I found a girl” - they had to stop the p.r there, and because asshole Brad got his little asshole pride hurt he then went on to basically say Lauren was a slut in an interview with his little dicks asshole bandmates. 

Anyway, moving on. While all of this p.r is happening, Camila and Lauren try to navigate their own relationship while having to stay hidden and pretending in front of the world. Not an easy thing to do while at the same time having to deal with the pressure of touring and the fandom who’s always watching. 

Eventually I think Camila wanted to end all of it and come out. Probably by letting themselves “caught” making out or something, since the label/management would never let them properly come out. Slight problem, Lauren doesn’t want to, she’s not ready and there’s too much at stakes. We all know Camila is a dreamer, an optimist, and she tries to convince her but nothing does it. 

2015 : They eventually break up over it beginning 2015, knowing it might be the only way to salvage their friendship, for the good of 5H. They were both probably incredibly hurt by that break up.

(We enter The Hurting 😉 )

Basically that whole year was about them trying to get over each other while remaining friends for the sake of the group. That’s why we still get lingering looks, smiles and hidden touches… because who on earth could get over someone they still love if they have to see them everyday? 

A whole lot of shit also happens when Camila does her first solo collab with Shawn - she receives hate from “fans” like she’s never received before. The girls aren’t allowed to support her publicly because the perspective of a feud is more appealing to the medias so management plays that card.

Basically a really dark time for Camila, where she ends up writing “I Have Questions” in an hotel bathroom before she stops writing altogether. I think it’s a period where Camila’s anxiety really shot up and became a real problem for her, which is also probably why she distanced herself from the girls, to not bother them with her problems, and also obviously to stay away from Lauren.

I think eventually the girls went through to Camila and did everything to support her.

(We enter The Healing)

Somehow Camren found a way to really rebuild their friendship, which was always laced with quite a bit of flirting.

2016 : Lauren tries to get her girl back. And it takes a while 😂. I think they started an on/off casual kinda thing because Camila wasn’t ready to go down that road again probably because she was scared of getting hurt and also because she knows they will be in the same situation they were before, having to hide. But what can you say? The heart wants what the heart wants, and I think eventually they did officially get back together somewhere in the middle of 2016. 

(We enter the Loving *behind closed doors*)

If now Lauren feels more comfortable with her sexuality and the prospect of coming out - the problem now resides in Camila’s upcoming solo career - they already know 7/27 will be Camila’s last album with 5H. Coming out at this point in the game would be a public suicide. There’s no way in hell it’s happening. 

So instead Camila makes the deal of playing the “straight” girl image as much as the label wants if it means her and Lauren can be together behind doors.

A few months roll out, Camila’s departure is coming soon and the label needs to get ready for the “after Camila” - and the person who comes after Camila is Lauren. Now, how to make Lauren become even more popular? What could make medias talk about her? A little weed in her bag? Yes, but it’s not enough, she needs to make an impact. What could be more impactful than a well prepared coming out? Oh I know! You pair it up with a letter against the biggest enemy of the country at the moment, Donald Trump. 

But you can’t just risk that out of nowhere, you need to test the waters first, see how the fandom would react to Lauren’s coming out  - enters Lucy.

Now, Lucy has been Lauren’s best friend for years, she obviously knows about Camren and I believe she was also friends with Camila. The fandom knows Lucy, we’ve seen her with Lauren on multiple pictures, Lauren calls her her “sister”. Choosing Lucy to be Lauren’s love interest is a very smart move because there’s tons of “proofs” to back it up and for the fans to create a timeline of. Obviously the Laucy timeline will also have the benefit of discrediting the Camren timeline since Lauren couldn’t have possibly been with both girls at the same time. 

So, to test the waters, a photo of Lauren and Lucy kissing at a party is purposely leaked - the fact that the picture was taken at party is important because if the fandom and the medias don’t react the way the management expects them to, you can always say the kiss was just a kiss between to best friends who had a bit too much to drink at a party. Turns out the fandom reacts exactly like predicted, they embrace Lauren for who she is, they defend her against the people who “outed” her, she’s the new hero. That’s why only a few weeks later they give the green light for her to fully come out through a politically incline letter.

You might be wondering why would Camila, Lauren and Lucy accept such a plan? Well in Camila’s case it shuts down the Camren rumors which helps her keep her straight image up, plus it gives the woman she loves the opportunity to finally be herself. Lauren gets to finally come out and be proud of herself while at the same time protecting her girlfriend’s upcoming solo career. And finally Lucy gets to be known by the fandom and the LGBT community, putting her name out there before she releases her first album. 

So here we are, end of 2016 - Lauren is out and in a supposed relationship with her best friend, Camila is still playing the straight girl wanting a spanish boyfriend, while Camren is still together and in love behind the scenes. 

And now, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s all planned out, a feud is going to happen, Camila’s exit will be a dramatic one. Dinah leaves us little hints a few days prior, Normani cries before their last performance as a five piece and then it starts. 4 statement letters is all that everybody needs to believe everything went wrong, 4 letters is all that everybody needs to believe that a 4 year friendship ended in a day. 

2017 : radio silence for a weeks - Camila gives an interview in which she says none of the girls are talking to her, they keep the feud game going. 

Now that Camila is gone, there’s no real use for Laucy anymore and even if Lauren is identifying as bisexual, the label would rather have her being in a p.r relationship with a man - they use a photoshoot and an interview to end it simply and boost Lauren’s image in the LGBT community - which they will also do by having Lauren collab with Halsey.

Her and Camila are still together, but obviously it’s getting even more complicated now that they can’t absolutely be seen together. 

The label wants a p.r boyfriend for Lauren and Ty Dolla Sign is in need of some headlines with his new album coming out this year. Her and Camila are already having a hard time maintaining their relationship because of how complicated things are with the “feud” and Camila having to stay in the closet, plus probably other unresolved issues between them - the new p.r plan is the last straw that breaks the camel’s back - they eventually mutually decide to break up and to try to figure themselves out without the other. Camila buries herself in work and Lauren parties away the pain. When Camren shippers keep coming at her from all sides she loses it and tweets that Camren “was never real, ever” to shut them down and probably to shut herself down too.

I still think they’re in touch, they keep each other updated on their lives, congratulate each other on the new projects.

I really do hope now that they both try to be with someone new, try to heal and figure out who they are without the other. I hope Camila gets to come out once her career is well established. I hope they can meet again in a little while and actually be together in open light and finally be able to be free to love each other.

The end, until the next chapter 😂

Again this is all theory, a big fanfic - saying this to all the haters out there, no need to bother sending me an ask, you’ll just be wasting your time ✌️

anonymous asked:

So Peggy starts the best bar fights? Elaborate, please.

oh man, those were the good old days. 

the howlies got in a lot of bar fights. you might think that the last thing a bunch of soldiers would want to do with their free time is fight people, but actually bar fights were a great stress relief. nobody really got seriously injured, and we tried to keep property damage to a minimum.  (and we also almost never started bar fights, for the record. most of the time it was guys from another unit who wanted to prove how badass they were by taking on the infamous howling commandos.) so bar fights themselves weren’t that unusual.

but peggy’s bar fights…oh, they were glorious. 

see, peggy never got in a fight for no reason; she was smarter than that. but when she did fight, it was truly beautiful. ive never seen a better right cross, before or since.

so one time we were on leave, sipping drinks in this english pub. the howlies were at the back table, enjoying a couple pitchers, while peggy was up at the bar, chatting with the barmaid. many of the bars and pubs back then had female bartenders–filling the gaps with the men off at war. and generally barmaids (which was what a female bartender was called back then) were the sort of girl pegs got along with–sensible, dependable, and not willing to take shit from any man. so she often enjoyed commiserating with the barmaids while we drank. she used to say she had to be free of us ‘charming gentlemen’ before she wound up blowing things up as erratically as we did. which was hurtful. our explosions were very intentional.
mostly.

so peggy got to chat about the best ways to hurl drunken idiots out doors and we got to ply steve with alcohol to see how much booze it would take to make him drunk. (tragically, we never found out.)

on this particular occasion, peggy was sitting at the bar when this mountain of a man came in. and i mean huge. thor-sized. like the hulk’s pinker younger brother. and with him came a dozen or so of his closest friends, all locals. (they may also have been poorly disguised orcs. im not sure, but i wouldn’t discount it as a possibility after seeing all the nonsense ive seen) the group of them made their way up to the bar, wedged their way in, and started harassing the barmaid. 

now, i don’t know what they said. peggy refused to repeat it. all i know is that one of the larger idiots said something stupid, laughed, and reached out to grope the barmaid. his hand made it about six inches from her chest when peggy’s fist broke his nose. he hit the floor like a tree falling, and the bar went quiet for a split second before one exceptionally suicidal idiot lunged at peggy.

everything went crazy. there were a good few dozen of us 107th guys in the bar, and all of us knew and adored pegs, so when the mountain-men went after her, every fine man of the 107th went after them. but it turned out that the locals defended their own, and we were pretty evenly matched for numbers. within seconds, everyone was throwing punches. bottles were thrown. dernier used a tablecloth to blind a man and threw him out a window. dumdum used one guy’s fists to hit another guy. i hurled bottlecaps at people’s eyeballs, because it’s fun.(im a sniper. we like distance) steve tried to wade through the chaos to get to peggy, but people kept punching him and then clutching their hands in agony, so he got kind of bogged down. 

at the bar, peggy was demonstrating exactly why she was the 107th’s darling–because she could put a grown man twice her size on the ground in two seconds flat. she knocked out six men; seven more promptly fell in love with her. 

as the chaos began to wind down, most of the locals had either been beaten down or fled, and only the mini-hulk and a couple others were left, brawling like berserkers. we were just about ready to turn steve loose on them when the barmaid handed peggy a stool. peggy took it, walked up behind where most of us howlies were still duking it out, and broke the stool over the big guy’s head. 

he went down hard. the rest of them surrendered out of terror. 

(and, possibly, they had also fallen prey to abruptly-in-love-with-peggy-carter syndrome. but really, who wasn’t?)

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

Ink and Kisses

Anon said to moi:

“Omg i want a tattoo artist jungkook!!!!!! 😭😩 smut/fluff/and honestly anything!!!! I just love tattoos artists jungkook but there aren’t alot of those fanfic…. can u help a poor girl out ??💖”

FIRst time trying a Tattoo artist AU. I had to do some reading before this, and JK is sO sexy i s2g. Still weird that I don’t really ever feel like doing the do with him. HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 1,400 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Tattooist au!

Part 1 | Part 2 (FINAL)

Originally posted by nnochu

No one would have ever imagined that hardcore badass Jeon Jungkook, the most well-known tattoo artist in the town, the guy who dropped out to follow his passion, was best friends with beautiful, sweet, top-scoring university student, Y/N. 

Physically, they seemed to be polar opposites. He had dragons inked onto his skin, three piercings on his left ear and two on his right, and always wore black; whilst you were a bright, clean slate – but you knew that was what he loved about you.

Keep reading

NHL!Bitty, Part XII -  ‘A Stanley Cup Wedding’

The Schooners win game seven and dethrone the defending champion Falconers to claim Seattle’s first national title. 

Eric was definitely not expecting Jack to propose immediately after losing.

(A rework of the ‘Game 7 PVD vs SEA’ prompt that totally retcons some NHL!Bitty stuff, so timeline-wise: the Falconers took the cup Eric’s second year with the Schooners. The Schooners win the following season.)

NHL!Bitty Masterpost




Game Seven. Third period. Eric’s running on adrenaline, blue Gatorade, and rage.

Jack and the rest of the Falconers first line are racing to catch up, but Eric is ‘criminally fast’ (thank you ESPN for the lovely descriptor), and it’s almost too easy to whip the puck to Carter and wait for the siren.

Snowy can’t stop it. The Schooners will win in regulation. 

For a brief, terrifying moment, Eric sees Morin’s breakaway as the death knell of his relationship. He has flashes of Freshman year and he thinks ‘Jack is going to hate me’.

Eric closes his eyes and waits.

Keep reading

It’s not your ulcer

“I am not a diabetic. Look, this morning my blood sugar was 193 and I hadn’t even eaten anything. That’s not diabetes.”

“Ma’am, that 100% is diabetes.” This conversation quickly became a stalemate between ignorance and my inability to explain her diagnosis in a way she would accept. In fact, every conversation I had with her went this way. She was perhaps the most obstinate and oblivious patient I had ever met. And she was my patient. 

She had come in with the worst foot ulcer I have ever seen. It tracked all the way down to the bone, meaning an amputation was likely in her future. According to her, the ulcer had started a couple days before and she had never had an ulcer before in her life. I used my years of medical training to quickly deduce that a) there was no way that ulcer happened in a few days and b) she most definitely had two very bad looking ulcers on the other foot. When I pointed that out she became upset, telling me they were just split calluses, not ulceration. Every attempt to diagnose and explain the diagnosis was refuted by her “intimate knowledge of her own body.” 

The next several days were some of my most frustrating. I was called to her room for numerous reasons, including refusing insulin (because she wasn’t diabetic), refusing dressing changes (because she was allergic to the dressing), complaining that the hospital food was inedible and rotted, and yelling at nurses about their inadequate care. Each time I walked to the room and took my verbal lashings. I listened. I empathized. I did everything I could to put myself in her place and see the fear she likely felt about losing her foot. 

None of that was enough.

I am not sure if I have ever truly hated a patient. But with her, I came close. Despite my ill-feelings I spent hours coordinating her care between multiple surgical specialties, all of which wanted to pass on taking a non-compliant diabetic, vasculopath to the OR. Podiatry, vascular, and orthopedics all subtly yelled, “not it.” 

Several days into her hospital stay I expressed my frustration to my attending. “They are not your ulcers,” he replied. I looked back, confused, as he continued. “They are not your ulcers. If you care for every patient’s problem as if it were your own, it will destroy you. She got herself into this and she has to bear some responsibility for getting herself out. If she refuses to take our recommendations as to her care, there is nothing we can do. There are times you have to step back and separate yourself from the patient.”  

I have thought about his words a lot since then. In some ways if feels antithetical to my nature to see medicine as a job. But I have also experienced the severe mental fatigue and frustration that comes with trying to help a patient unwilling to help themselves. At the end of the day, how far should we go? How much time should I spend on one uncooperative patient knowing it takes time away from other patients who also need my services? In the end I did step back from the case and allow myself to see my care for her as something closer to a job. I switched off service a few days later and the last I knew she was getting an amputation, though she spent time fighting with surgeons about where they could cut.     

At some point we have to protect ourselves as physicians, despite how mentally strong we believe ourselves to be. This year has taught me a lot of medicine, but it has also challenged me mentally. I am still searching for the coping skills necessary to survive life as a resident and eventually as an independent doctor. Despite the frustration this patient provided, she did allow me some excellent learning in this area. In the end, I have to appreciate her for that.  

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

A rare snake-related post by me-

I have had Vision, a dwarf BCI and my youngest snake, for roughly 9 months now. He will be a year old in July, so by snake standards he is still very much a baby. In the past 9 months, he’s gone from, for lack of better words, a bitey defensive asshole to a relatively passive and trusting creature who simply has Rules ™ on how, where, and when he can be touched. I used the same method to produce these results as I do with all of my reptiles, including my young snake of a notoriously aggressive and defensive species (Amazon Tree Boas) and have frequently been asked how I manage to get these animals that instinctively bite first and ask questions never to allow handling and pictures without drawing blood.

On my dog blog I’ve mentioned the concept of body autonomy a few times in relation to training dogs, and how it crosses over into husbandry in other species. In these posts I’ve detailed how I tame the larger birds at my job, how I teach my snakes not to bite me when I take them out, how I can successfully convince a thrashing dog to accept grooming without a fuss, how I teach cats to not turn into screaming demons for nail trims, and more. I also cover this in many of my dog training lectures at work as my students teach their dogs to allow grooming, nail trims, and medically related handling to prevent injuries and incidents when interacting with these animals. All of this relates back to body autonomy, and how we as humans have consistently ignored other species’ instinctive need to be autonomous.

I am no master animal trainer and do not play one on TV. I train pet dogs and service dogs and have begun to venture into competition, at one point I specialized in rehabbing aggressive and reactive dogs. I have trained various common pet animals in occasionally unconventional ways to do things that make life easier for the both of us, but I don’t claim to be anything special, because what I’m doing is not all that special. It is, however, uncommon for people to make these considerations with their pets and then they call in someone like me to fix a problem that didn’t need to start in the first place.

An example being: frequently on this website and others, the solution for convincing a biting snake not to bite you is to hold it still until it stops biting you. The snake will learn that biting you does not produce the desired result (you letting the snake go or putting it back in its cage) and thus will eventually stop biting you when you pick it up.

In the dog training world, we call this flooding and learned helplessness. It “works” because it produces what we wanted it to. The snake no longer bites when you pick it up. But it failed to address the root of the problem, and frequently if regular handling is not maintained the snake will return to biting you every time you touch it. The snake had learned that there was nothing it could do in order to make you stop doing what it didn’t like, and so had learned that it was helpless against the much larger human. The snake in this situation still doesn’t really want to be handled, it is merely tolerating it because it sees no other option.

While snakes have a much more primitive brain than dogs and thus a much more limited scope of emotions, aggression and violence are always expensive measures to use and thus are frequently considered last resort measures to make an unpleasant situation stop. They are costly in body resources- they take large amounts of energy, stress, and time to resolve, and wounds obtained from violence can become deadly with infection or severity. As a result, a bite should always indicate that whatever you are doing is so unpleasant to the animal you’re doing it to that they’re willing to risk their life in order to make you stop. The common pet snake knows it cannot win against an animal as large as a human. It is hoping you have not come to the same realization, and will not call its bluff.

This creates a problem. Like with dogs, backing off from a situation that is required after a bite will teach the snake that all they have to do to get you to leave them alone is to bite you. If I need to trim my dog’s nails, give him a bath, brush him, or have him examined by a vet, sure I could put him in a muzzle and force him to do it anyway, but it is counter-intuitive to teach him that all he has to do is bite me in order to get out of doing those things he may consider unpleasant. I need to be able to handle my snakes. This is not negotiable, just like the above things I do with my dogs are not negotiable. If I cannot handle them, I cannot check them for injury, disease, or distress. Backing off because my snake, or dog, has threatened to bite me is thus not a viable option. I must be able to complete the task, and the animal in question must let me.

Dogs, by comparison, are relatively easy to convince in this problem. I need to be able to do my dog’s nails. If I give him amazing treats on a good reward schedule, shower him with praise, listen to his body language to give him a chance to calm down and destress before pressing on, and remove my own negative emotions from the equation, he will learn to let me do his nails and even offer the position required for the task within a relatively short amount of time. He does not have to like having his nails done, but I can convince him to like he benefits he gets out of it. Cats and birds and small mammal pets like ferrets, rabbits, and rodents may be slower, but follow much the same way.

I can’t give a snake a treat. That’s not really how snake digestive systems work. I can’t give them a toy. I can’t give them praise. The subtleties of snake body language are much harder to read due to a lack of eyelids, ears, and limbs. Dogs, cats, birds, ferrets, all of these are social creatures that practice social bonding and feel an emotion similar to love (in the dog’s case, actually do feel love). Snakes are not social creatures and their brain is not capable of producing the chemicals involved in the emotion we call love. I cannot convince a snake to love me or to like being handled. That is not something their biology is able to do. Does that mean I have to rely on flooding and learned helplessness in order to get them to let me handle them?

I keep stressy species. While all reptiles are more than capable of stressing themselves to death, my current list of exotic pets includes a special needs ball python with a severe neurological condition, a brazilian rainbow boa specifically purchased from someone who breeds minimally stressy snakes because he got tired of the species’ reputation for being bitey assholes, and a dwarf bci locality (read: like a subspecies, but not different enough to get their own scientific name) known for being defensive bitey assholes. Previously, I had a special needs corn snake that was a defensive bitey asshole, an amazon tree boa that was remarkably handleable despite the species’ reputation for being aggressive and defensive bitey angry assholes, and a few foster ball pythons that came from neglect situations and had never been handled before leading to them being defensive bitey assholes. Stress is common in situations where aggression or violence is utilized, even if it is being utilized by the animal and not the human. If the stress from moving can kill my beloved ATB Hydra, why would I intentionally expose him to situations where he would feel required to use violence again and again until he learned that that was not a way out of the situation?

I did not flood my snakes. I hold them. They do not bite me. It has been a long time since any of them have even struck at me, and the majority of the bites and strikes I have received have been from when I was learning the snake in front of me or from me intentionally ignoring their body language and handling them a way I knew they didn’t like for whatever reason. Snakes do not bite without cause. Whether you, a human, can see that cause or not, snakes do not bite because they are vindictive or mean. As said, their brains are far too primitive to feel such complex emotions. Even wild snakes do not bite without provocation- whether you intentionally provoked them or not does not matter, simply whether they felt provoked enough to need to defend themselves possibly with their lives.

Vision came to me unsure of my intentions and of whether I could be considered safe. He certainly didn’t believe I should be picking him up. At two months old, the world is a scary place to a baby snake where nearly everything is bigger than you and nearly everything wants to kill or eat you. I do not blame him for doubting the warm giant cooing over him with grabby hands. To him, I’m sure I am some baffling mixture of hawk, bear, and wild canine. All of these things readily kill and eat snakes, all of these things may be persuaded to not kill and eat this particular snake if he bites them.

Instead of picking him up and allowing him to spend precious resources stressing himself to the point of repeatedly biting me- which hurts, by the way, so I don’t really want to be bitten any more than I need to be- I allowed him to show me things about him. I let him show me what he does when he’s nervous, when he doesn’t want to be bothered. I let him show me what he does when he’s curious and feels like investigating what’s in front of him. I let him show me how he does and does not like to be touched. Like many snakes, he seems to enjoy being scratched lightly under the chin. Like many snakes, he doesn’t seem to appreciate being tickled on the stomach. He prefers to create a “foot” about 2/3 down his body and use it as an anchored perch when exploring my hands. He does not want his tail to be touched. When he is nervous or unsure of potential danger, he will retract and coil himself into a loose ball. If pressed before he recovers, he will “expand” the “ball” quickly and vocalize. If he continues to be pressured, he will threaten to bite and will begin to try. If he is allowed to relax, he will recreate his “foot” and resume quietly investigating his surroundings.

Today, I took the lid off of his enclosure and lifted him out without a fuss. While this is not a first- we accomplished this task about 4 weeks in- only in the past few weeks has he not immediately retracted into his loose ball and required me to wait a few minutes for him to relax before touching him. Instead, he immediately made his “foot” and began to investigate, leaned against my finger as I scratched his chin, and maintained his confidence throughout the time I handled him. Sure, I could possibly get a similar result through the first method of flooding and teaching him that he is helpless against me, but I don’t need to. I can get a confident content snake that is not only tolerating my handling but also showing curiosity and intelligence without forcing him to accept my hands as things he has to deal with in his life.

The people espousing these methods always ask me how I managed to take such nice, interesting pictures of Hydra without bleeding- or joke about how much blood they think I lost inbetween shots- and are always surprised when I tell them that I don’t get bit because I understand a snake’s need for autonomy and allow the snake to tell me their “rules” for being touched and then follow those rules or understand if I break them I will get bit. As a result, I don’t break their rules unless I have to, and thus I don’t get bit unless I have to. This allows me to handle and investigate my snakes, look in their mouths, check their vents and between their scales, touch their heads, and rescue them from fluke accidents such as Quetzal’s injury with his decor without the snake taking their frustrations out on me. It also allows me to take some pretty pictures of them outside or on props without worrying how I will retrieve them without being bitten when I’m done. 

Play Me // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Daddy Kink, Oral (both), Spanking, Teasing, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, and Swearing.

Word Count: 4,915

Song: Despacito by Luis Fonsi Ft. Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber

A/N: This is 100% because of the video that came out. The second I saw him playing the drums again, my mind immediately went to sin. I MEAN FUUUCK LOOK AT THIS GIF PEOPLE, HOW CAN IT NOT? Also, thanks to @stilinski-jpeg for keeping me sane throughout the writing process of this fic. Love you so much! 💖

In case you haven’t seen the video or you want to watch it again on loop if you’re like me. 

Fuck, I moaned internally as I watched him lick his plump lips in pure concentration, an immediate ache already rushing to my core just at the sight of Dylan’s sinful tongue.

His fingers were curled around the drumsticks and his muscles were flexed against his biceps with each movement he made as he played the drums in front of me. It took every piece of discipline I had in me to continue playing my saxophone and not toss it on the ground just to throw myself at him. Dylan had such an effect on me that I was constantly turned on whenever I was around him — and he doesn’t even have to do much to get me worked up. Just the way he is can get me easily horny alone.

It all started the night we first created this blues band. He was the drummer we recruited along with his friends Thomas and Dexter for strings and vocals. The three were undoubtedly talented and the perfect additions to our band, but Dylan… he was the perfect addition to my body. That first night the entire band partied to celebrate the arrivals and drinks were the main theme. One thing led to the other and, the next thing I knew, I was rushed into the nearest bathroom and being pushed up against the closed door. Dylan’s calloused hands gripping my leg and hitching it across his waist as he pounds into me mercilessly, fucking me so hard that I couldn’t walk the next day.

His eyes looked up at me for the slightest second and I could see the small smirk dangling from the corner of his lips, my breath hitching in my throat and disrupting my saxophone playing. Dylan noticed the way his smirk made me feel the need to press my thighs together and decided to play even dirtier by winking. I immediately moaned which came out as a strangled note from my instrument. The entire band looked at me with judgemental eyes at my horrid playing, but I was too busy focusing on Dylan chuckling lowly to himself.

“Alright!” I frustratedly shouted, surprising everyone in the studio. “Can we just please take a break from jamming right now? We’ve been at this for hours!”

Our vocalist shrugged carelessly and looked to his fellow bandmates, all shrugging as well before Tommy spoke up. “I guess we should. Maybe we can get something to eat?”

“Yes!” Dexter sat up from his stool, smacking his hands together. “Let’s go to that restaurant we had dinner at yesterday! They had the fucking best chicken fried rice.”

Everyone else agreed, each sharing the food they desperately wanted to eat there again. Well, all except for Dylan and I who were too busy staring at one another, lust burning our pupils to the point of no return. His eyes dipped for the slightest second to rake all over my body, gazing at the low-cut in my crop top before his eyes returned to mine with a cocky grin now invading his pink lips.

“You know, I think we should play our song one more time.” Dylan spoke up, his eyes never leaving me. My own narrowed, immediately understanding how much he still wanted to tease me. “To get it perfect before we officially record it.”

Again, everyone shrugged and agreed with his suggestion. Usually, I love how open they all are for anything but not today, not when I desperately want to feel Dylan’s dick twitching inside of me again as it quickly rubs against my tight walls.

“No, I think we should eat.” I counterparted, pulling the strap of the saxophone off my neck and placing the instrument in its case. “We need the break.”

“Maybe you need the break, kitten.” He raised an eyebrow tauntingly. “I mean, you do seem tense. What’s gotten you all worked up?”

The glare I gave him was nothing short of intense and full of raging fire. He and I both knew what he was doing, especially since he used that damn nickname that did inexplicable things to me. The entire band’s eyes were fixed on me and Dylan used the opportunity to run his fingers over his scruff as he winked yet again, fully aware of his power against me.

Fine then, two can play at this game.

“Having to constantly blow.” I retorted and it was my turn to smirk when his eyes widened. “The instrument, I mean.”

“Well I think you blow just perfectly.”

I was certainly glad that everyone else in the room was terrible at picking up on our innuendos and the incredibly strong sexual tension between Dylan and I. We haven’t exactly told anyone about us yet — mainly because we don’t even know if there is an us. We’ve been hooking up whenever it was convenient but with Dylan’s crazy schedule, it’s been pretty hard to maintain a physical relationship let alone possibly start an emotional one.

“Just one more?” Dylan teased and my mind immediately went to all of the times I begged him to quit pleasuring me when I was already so overstimulated, but he just kept going at it. “And then, I’ll- we’ll stop.”

“Just. One. More.” I stated through clenched teeth.

Picking up my instrument again, Dylan’s eyes were hooked on me as I licked my lips and wrapped them around the tip of my saxophone. The rest of the band members prepared themselves again and Dylan tapped his drumsticks three times to indicate the starting tempo. As soon as he was finished, we were all off and the song started playing beautifully. Despite not missing and mistaking a single note, Dylan and I focused on each other instead of our instruments. The walls of the studio were shaking at how loudly he was playing, each bang vibrating through the floor and into my body. It only made the aching in my core grow even more uncomfortable as it vibrated my cunt, forcing me to hold back any moan I wanted to release.

I watched as his head nodded along with the rhythm he created, his knees bouncing up and down as his feet continuously slammed on the bass pedal to carry the entire beat of the song. I hated to admit it, but our music would be nothing without Dylan’s talented drum skills. He was undoubtedly enjoying himself, the melody completing taking over his body… except for the eyes boring into mine that is.

Fuck, it should be illegal to look that fucking good playing the drums.

I thanked the Lord when the song was finally over and I managed to play every single note without letting Dylan distract me, despite almost falling prey to him many times. He put the drumsticks down on the floor and picked up the green bottle of beer from it instead, his lips pouting as he took a long sip. I was practically drooling at the sight of his adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Everyone else, including me, put their instruments away for the time being.

“Time for grub!” Dexter celebrated and the entire room boomed with laughter at his excitement for food. Normally, I would be right there with him but at this moment all I could truly focus on were the way Dylan’s eyes were calling me.

“You guys go ahead.” Dylan stated, standing up. “I think I’d rather eat Chipotle.”

“You sure?” Tommy asked, everybody already at the door. “You should come eat with us so you’re not alone.”

“He won’t be alone. I’ll go with him.” I spoke up, clearing my throat. “Gotta have those delicious chicken cutlets.”

“Suit yourselves.” He shrugged, guiding everyone out of the studio and closing its door behind them.

It was as if the second that door sealed shut, every bit of sexual tension we were trying to keep to ourselves was released out into the air. Just the thought of what was undeniably about to happen next made my pulse accelerate, my heart pounding against my chest. I wasn’t the only one effected as I watched Dylan take slow steps towards me as if I were a magnet pulling him in closer and closer. He was practically undressing me with his eyes and usually I would blush at such a forward act, but now right now. Right now, all I want him to do is give into the lustful things his eyes are telling me.

“So,” I broke the silence, my breath unstable as he finally reached me and placed his hand on the small of my back. His lips brushing against my neck, making goosebumps cover my skin. “How about we go eat take out?”

“No, kitten.” He whispered, my body shivering at the feeling of his lips touching my ear. “I’d rather eat you out, instead.”

Dylan’s mouth immediately moved to mine and he crashed his lips against my own. I couldn’t help but moan into our sudden kiss, throwing my arms around his neck. His skillful lips meshed with mine in such a fiery and passionate pace, he almost made me lose my balance. My hands didn’t just remain on his neck as he successfully seduces me, but ventured over his back and explored the amazing feeling of his flexed muscles pressed against my palm. Our breaths mingled before Dylan licked my bottom lip with his tongue and I instinctively opened it for his tongue to have its very welcome entrance. I could taste the alcohol in his mouth along with the mint from his toothpaste and all of my senses were heightened, begging for more of him.

I broke the kiss, but he chose to continue teasing me as his lips moved to my jaw then my neck. Not even bothering to hide the fact that he was currently creating a purple bruise on my skin with his smooth assaults. My fingers gripped onto his back, my nails digging into our band’s t-shirt. He chuckled on my neck and I instantly whimpered at the resonance.

“Please, I have been unbelievably horny since the moment you walked through that door today.” I moaned. “Just fucking do something already.”

“Patience, kitten.” Dylan retorted, his fingers moving to the hem of my high-waisted skirt just to tease me. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Not when their friends will be back soon.” I mewled.

“Honestly, they could walk in on us fucking and I wouldn’t even stop.” Dylan nibbled on my ear. “Now, kitten, tell me all of the things you want my mouth to do to you. Teach me your favorite places.”

“You already know my favorite places, Dylan.” I responded and definitely didn’t miss the cocky grin he played on my skin.

“Just because of that impeccable response I’ll give you want you want, babygirl.” He whispered huskily before moving his hands to the back of my knees and lifting me up.

This time I was the one who started the desperate kiss as he walked forwards, my back suddenly hitting the wall behind me. I lost my rhythm with his lips and failed to remain the dominant one when his hands massaged the back of my thighs, sparking more desire throughout my entire body. Just as I was about to try and get my power back, Dylan unexpectedly broke our kiss. Our panting breaths hitting each other’s faces before he started to push me up. I looked at him with wide eyes, but allowed him to do whatever it is he’s planning to do. The next thing I know, I’m so high up that he wraps my legs around his neck.

With my legs dangling over his shoulders, Dylan moved one of his hands to my inner thigh and purposely drummed his fingers on my skin before reached the area closest to my core. I bucked my hips for him to do more and, to my surprise, he actually did. Dylan suddenly ripped apart the thong I wore and felt no remorse towards ruining something I owned, and, honestly, neither did I. I was so glad there finally wasn’t anything keeping him from touching me anymore that I didn’t even bother to think about the consequences.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding about how horny you are.” Dylan chuckled, certainly staring at the arousal covering my cunt. My hips twitched the second his finger swiped through my slick folds and a shameless moan fell from my lips when he licked his wet finger with his tempting tongue. “God, kitten, you always taste so damn good.”

“P-Please.” I begged.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Dylan smirked, nibbling my outer lips. “I know that I’m a drummer and I’m good with my hands, but damn kitten.”

“And I’m a saxophone player, I’m very good with my mouth.” I retorted, raking my fingers through his dark strands. “Which I’ll gladly use on you if you just give me what I want.”

“Well, you certainly have a way with words, babygirl.” He stated before finally doing what I wanted him to by swiping his tongue up my core, my vocal chords releasing the most animalistic moan the second the tip of his tongue touched my clitoris. “Damn, you sing the second I touch you.” He chuckled. “Kinda like playing the piano.”

“Then, play me.”

The last thing I saw was Dylan’s pupils dilate just before he dipped his head under the fabric of my skirt along with his hand and began his mind-boggling pleasure on my core. His tongue created fast and steady circles on my sensitive nub, immediate pleasure striking through my veins. However, my body buzzed intensely the moment he pushed a finger into my soaking heat and pumped it repeatedly. My eyes instantly shut tight and chose to only focus on the feelings he was creating inside of me.

I squirmed and my hips bucked involuntarily, my own fingers clutching onto his hair. He grunted at the harsh feeling and my lungs immediately gasped when the vibration of his voice rippled through my core and initiated the build up now invading me. I could feel my nipples hardening against the cheap fabric of my bra and I desperately wanted to pinch them in between my fingers — which is exactly what I did after I let go of him to rip apart my blouse along with my laced bra. Dylan couldn’t exactly see what I had just done, but he definitely put two and two together at the sound of the tearing fabric and didn’t hold back his moan. Letting what remained of my shirt and bra fall to the ground and playing with my nipples in my fingers, I felt as Dylan added another one of his in me. He increased the pressure and the pace, giving more power to my build up.

“F-Fuck, baby.” I moaned audaciously. “Just like that.”

He followed my request and continued moving his two fingers in my tight cunt rapidly, but his lips however wrapped around my clit. His tongue still licked and played with it as well, but now he had added his sinful mouth to the mix. My sensitive nub enjoyed the attention it was getting from Dylan, flashing pure thrill and bliss straight to my build up.

Carefully hearing out how responsive I was being, Dylan decided to do more when he knew I was ready for it. He scissored his two fingers inside of me and I screamed, my body already shaking with its arriving orgasm. Dylan’s addictive movements in my cunt only stopped right when he knew I was going to cum and curled the tips of his fingers against my walls instead, the perfect amount of pressure I needed to fall into my release.

I didn’t expect Dylan to stop as I came, but I certainly did expect him to when I finished. However, he did not halt his actions at all. In fact, Dylan only increased them. His hand removed itself from my core and returned its post on my thigh along with the other one. He pulled back from the wall and my own hands immediately flew to his hair for stability, but I didn’t make it in time. Although his grip on my thighs were incredibly strong enough and wouldn’t let me completely fall, I couldn’t help but squeal when the top half of my body dropped down, by back now resting on his legs.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get more intense, Dylan slipped his tongue into my cunt and I urgently wrapped my arms around the back of his knees. The new position enhanced everything he was doing to me, expanding my pleasure by one-hundred percent. I whimpered and mewled at Dylan’s invasive touch, considering how overstimulated I was. But, he didn’t stop his attempt at giving me more than one consecutive orgasm.

His tongue was deep in me, constantly brushing my g-spot, and he licked around my walls, definitely enjoying my taste by the way he moaned continuously along with me. My back arched and my legs shook again at the feeling of his tongue literally fucking me just as Dylan’s thumb applied unbelievable pressure on my incredibly swollen clitoris. Not only making me reach my orgasm and cum, but literally fucking gush. My immense arousal squirted out of my cunt, certainly soaking his entire face.

This time Dylan did stop, but only when he deemed ready. My core was throbbing intensely as he walked us over to his drumming bench and asked me to place my hands on them for him to pull my legs off of his shoulders and carefully settle them on the floor without the risk of hurting me nor letting me fall. Once he laid my legs on the ground, my butt involuntarily sitting down too, I watched with hooded eyes as he pulled his shirt off his body and used it wipe his face clean.

“Take your skirt off, kitten.” He commanded, unbuttoning his khakis and letting them drop to the floor.

“Yes, daddy.” I bit down on my lip, enjoying the view of him momentarily losing his shit at the nickname just as he stepped out of his pants pooling at his feet.

“Daddy, huh? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier…” He smirked, taking taunting steps towards me. “Now, why don’t you kneel here in front of daddy?”

I didn’t say anything, I just changed my position to settle on my hands and knees and slowly crawled in his direction. The feeling of my skin scraping against the rug burned, but I chose to ignore it. I could see the huge bulge in his grey boxer-briefs create a wet stain with his increasing precum at how the sight turned him on beyond compare and it boosted me to sway my hips more, my confidence growing. Dylan’s hand moved down to his crotch and he slowly palmed himself over the fabric before becoming impatient and pulling down his boxers just enough to start touching himself. Immediate heat and lust rushed back to my core at the way he pumped his own dick, my mouth drooling at his actions.

Once I reached him, I placed my hands on his bare thighs to steady myself as I settled just on my knees, the rug digging into my skin. Our eyes were locked together, my mouth inching closer to his shaft. He didn’t stop masterbating even when I took his tip into my mouth and sucked profusely, his throat making its own strangled noises. My tongue licked the precum off of his slit and Dylan’s hips bucked, involuntarily​ pushing a little more of him inside my mouth. I swatted his hand away and he let both of his hands run through my hair as I took in as much of his cock as I could. Dylan gathered my hair together in a temporary ponytail and whilst my mouth bobbed his dick rapidly, my tongue would constantly graze against his prominent vein on the underside of his member.

“Shit, kitten.” Dylan moaned, bucking his hips faster. “Your talented lips feel so fucking good around my cock. Thank God you’re so invested in playing the saxophone.”

I moaned around his staff and he immediately growled at the intense vibration, his hand gripping tighter in my hair. Impatient with letting me be in control, Dylan pulled my hair back roughly, my head going along with it. Then he, suddenly, pushed my head right back to take him in again deeply — so deeply that his swollen tip lodged in the back of my throat. Dylan created this new pace where he would pull my hair to guide his dick in and out along with his thrusts. The stinging pain on my scalp from his harsh pulling did not overpower the lust inside of me and I willingly allowed Dylan to use my mouth as a damn fucktoy.

“Fuck me, babygirl.” He grunted before unexpectedly pulling me back and not letting me take him in my mouth anymore.

Suddenly, Dylan tore my grip away from his thighs and let my hair go. He took a step back, my palms immediately landing flat out on the floor to keep from falling. The strands of my hair swayed to the front of my face as he stepped out of his boxers and walked behind me. I heard him fall to his own knees and, without any warning, a loud sound of Dylan’s palm slapping against my skin echoed in the room along with the sound of my scream at the stinging pain of just getting spanked.

“God, I fucking love your ass.” Dylan confessed, sinking his teeth into my cheeks and letting go right after another scream escaped my lips.

“Jesus Christ, Dylan.” I grunted, already out of breath. “Just stop teasing and shove your dick inside of me already.”

“Did you just call me Dylan?” He tisked and I could picture him shaking his head. “You know that’s not what I want, babygirl. Which means I won’t give you want you want.”

“N-No, I’m sorry!” I whined. “Daddy, please.”

Dylan surprised me when he pushed just his tip inside of me, my core pulsing around him. However, he stopped teasingly and it drove me absolutely crazy. I tried bucking my hips back, but Dylan just grabbed my waist roughly and halted my attempts.

“Come on, daddy.” I whimpered at the feeling of his dick throbbing. “Just fuck me.”

“Like this?” Dylan asked, slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt before pulling back out at the same agonizing pace. He did this a few times and my body begged for more, not able to withstand the slow rate.

“Faster.” I begged impatiently. “You know how I like it rough.”

Dylan moaned at my commands, but continued his vehement torture anyway and I wasn’t having anymore of it. Bringing my hands back, I ripped Dylan’s off my waist and he almost lost his balance at my sudden movement. Pulling his dick out of me, I pushed him to lie down on the rug and threw my legs over his hips to straddle him. Both of my knees settled on the rug and Dylan’s eyes widened at me before they narrowed with a growing smirk.

“Damn-” He began to speak, but my finger flew to his lips and stopped him from continuing his sentence. His eyebrows quirked in curiosity and I simply gave him the most smug grin I could put together.

“I’m in charge now.”

Dylan’s dick twitched in between my thighs at my new confidence and his hands flew to my hips, allowing me to do whatever I damn pleased. I grabbed his shaft before positioning it at my entrance and sitting down on him until I felt his balls on my ass. His head instantly fell back to the ground, his eyes shutting tight. Thanks to how fucking wet I was from just having two orgasms (and counting), it wasn’t hard to glide him in and out of me. Both of our throats erupting into uncontrollable moans and neither one of us had the intention to stop.

My hands were splattered out on his chest, my nails raking down his skin and digging into it as his own fingers gripped my hips tightly to help guide me. I bounced up and down on his cock, the wet sound of skin meeting every time my cheeks came into contact with his balls. Dylan growled lowly whenever my nails created stinging shapes in his flesh. My build up returned stronger than ever, already licking at my veins. Dylan could sense how close I was from how I tightened around his shaft and his eyes opened, a sense of mischief pooling in them.

One of his hands made its way to our repeatedly connecting bodies and everything inside of me jerked the moment his fingers applied rough pleasure on my clit. A flash of heat spread through my body as I screamed, not able to hide how much I loved his addictive advances. However, it was when Dylan sat up and not only changed the angle but pushed me back a little so he could attach his mouth onto my breast that the build up won. My arms wrapped around his neck to keep some sort of balance as my body violently shook with its intense orgasm. I continued to bounce on his dick and Dylan grunted loudly when I clenched around it. His teeth bit my nipple harshly and I screamed, all of my senses dancing on the surface of my skin.

Even as my body fell limp and stopped moving, Dylan didn’t. His hand on my hips wrapped around my waist and elevated my body slightly before thrusting up into me. At this point, I couldn’t even control the overwhelming amount of screams falling from my lips along with his name.

“That’s right, kitten.” He managed to say through moans. “Scream my name and forget every other name that exists. I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.”

I felt that same flash of heat again, followed by another and another as he continued to thrust up into my g-spot, his cock rubbing so fucking deliciously against my tight walls that it made me want to cry. No crashing waves and no build up, this time a violent pleasure tore through me. A whiplash of ecstasy snapping at my clit and spreading everywhere. Dense streams of cum slithered down my legs and I noticed as it soaked him, dripping down his cock, covering his balls and pooling over his thighs.

His fingers changed its pace on my overly sensitive nub and I crashed again, falling deep into the abyss of euphoria. Each climax was unique and when the final one was drawn out of me, I actually cried — like literally. My tears rolled down my flushed cheeks. My lungs hurt at the lack of air. My throat was dry from screaming too much. My lips were raw from the insane amount of kissing and biting down on them. And every joint in my body ached.

When he noticed I couldn’t handle anymore, Dylan pulled himself out and laid me down on the floor. I was completely out of breath and unable to move my body, but I still watched with hooded eyes as he crawled over me. Each of his knees settling beside my shoulders, his hands moving down to my head and grabbing my hair.

“Do you wanna taste daddy’s cum, kitten?” He teased and I immediately nodded. “I’m gonna need you to say it.”

“Yes, daddy.” I spoke up, my hands holding onto the back of his knees. “Fuck my mouth.”

That’s all the incentive he needed to shove his dick into my mouth and I gladly welcomed it back. Dylan used his hand on my head in synch with his thrusts to control how deep he wants to go. Because he was already so close to his edge from constantly feeling my cunt tighten around him, Dylan was already falling off of it in a matter of seconds. It only took a few thrusts and my mouth hollowing out as my tongue constantly licked his sensitive tip. Dylan’s hot release immediately shot out of his slit and landed on my palate, the delicious salty taste of his cum making me moan.

“God, no one can give a blowjob like you, babygirl.” Dylan whispered huskily, laying back down on the floor beside me.

The sexual tension in the air eased down and was replaced with pure bliss, both of our chests rising and falling with heavy breaths. All of a sudden, Dylan turned around and nudged his face amongst my shoulders. Goosebumps making its ways on my skin at the feeling of his hot breath against my neck as he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

“What'cha doing there, Dyl?” I asked curiously.

“Breathing in your neck because you always smell so good.” He shrugged.

“Well, I’m just gonna pretend that’s not a weird thing to say.” I chuckled and he laughed with me.

“Sorry.” He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on my skin. “Would you rather I whisper things into your ear so you remember them when you’re not with me?”

“Hmm, that would be nice.” I smiled before it turned into a grin. “But, I’d rather go eat that take out.”

4

YOI Future!Verse ABO AU, Visual Headcanon Web Charts #01

So I always wanted to make one of these. Turns out my headcanons for the most part are WAY too wordy for these things and uh, they’re a bit of a mess >.>;; BUT I hope nonetheless that they’re somewhat fun to read even if barely legible, it was fun to make ^ ^;

1. Super basic relationship chart of the core members of the lovely poly family in this AU.

2. “Adults Think,” the color of each adult indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

3. “Kids Think,” the color of each OC kid indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

There’s obviously a lot more to it than what could be crammed in the lil text boxes, but a gist and pretty much the first things that immediately popped into my mind regarding their interactions. 2 and 3 also mostly show their thoughts while the kids are younger, which will change a bit as they grow up, to be covered in a future post.

*Recommended you right click view image to see full size bc the text is tiny oops

Because the text is so illegible, text only versions of charts 2 and 3 beneath cut, all elaborated quite a bit because I’m so rambly oops:

~~

IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

~~

Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

~~

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

TREE BROS HEAD CANNONS

It’s one AM and these kinda just popped into my head LETS GO

• Connor fails his suicide attempt, Zoe finds him in his room about a minute after Connor swallowed a fuck ton of pills

•Evan hears about this cause Connor is always a main source of gossip at the school

• especially for Jared

• Evan thinks about when he failed his suicide attempt and knew, at least partly, how Connor felt

• Evan, knowing he wouldn’t be able to just walk up to Connor and start talking, starts writing letters

• Dear Connor Murphy, I heard what happened and I want you to know, I failed as well over the summer

• Evan always signing them as Sincerely Me

• Connor getting the first letter five days after he leaves the hospital, two days after he goes back to school

• Connor reading it, and thinking

• maybe I’m not completely alone

• Evan writes Connor a letter every Tuesday and Thursday

• Whenever Connor ditches school he makes sure it isn’t a Tuesday or Thursday

• Evan mentions things that go on in his life, how he wishes he could stand up for himself, how he wishes he could help his mother, how he wishes he could talk to the girl he likes

• Connor starts to develop feelings for the mystery writer but ignores it cause

• A. Who would like him

• and

• B. I don’t even know who writes the letters, how the fuck can I be in love

• Evan slowly starts to make sure Connor is doing okay when ever Connor actually shows up to his math class

• Evan slowly starts to realize that he doesn’t like Zoe as much, but why?

• Evan shoots up in bed one night thinking

• Fuck. I like the school stoner

• Evan then slaps himself cause that’s not all that Connor is

• his mom hears him talking to himself and asks if everything is alright

• Evan quickly shouts back a yes, and gets back in bed, still thinking of Connor Murphy

• the last day of school before Christmas Break, Evan leaves a small gift at Connors locker and a note even though it’s Friday

• he’s surprised to see that Connor also left a gift at his locker for the mystery writer

• Evan puts it under the tree

• Heidi asks where it came from and Evan starts blushing and stuttering and mumbling about how he writes letters to Connor Murphy

• Heidi sees the light in her sons eye that hasn’t been there in years

• She bakes cookies for Evan to give to Connor

• Evan brings the cookies to the Murphy’s house, rings the door bell and runs

• Cynthia opens the door to see a plate of cookies and card saying ‘Dear Connor Murphy, have an excellent Christmas, sincerely me’

• Cynthia is super excited cause she believes that Connor has an actual FRIEND

• Cynthia takes the cookies up to her sons room

• Connor opens the door, glaring at his mother, and then he sees the cookies and the note card

• he picks it up and reads it quickly before blushing and grabs the plate, shutting his door

• on Christmas Evan opens Connors present last and is very happy to see that it’s a tree encyclopedia with a note that said ‘you always talk about how you love trees so, here’ and on the other side is a beautifully drawn tree

• CONNOR MURPHY CAN DRAW SO FUCKING WELL AND EVAN JUST MELTS AT THE TREE AND HE INSTANTLY PINS IT TO HIS WALL

• Connor opens his gift in his room, and is surprised to see two new black sweatshirts and a bottle of black nail polish, the saying ‘Dear Connor Murphy, your sweatshirts seem to have a lot of holes, I didn’t know if it was for comfort or what but I got you a new one. Oh and I really like your nails so here’s some more polish, sincerely me’ Connor actually smiles, and he feels all warm inside AND WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS WHAT THE FUCK

• Jared eventually finds out that Evan writes Connor letters cause he saw the tree on the wall while Evan was getting snacks and flipped it over and read the note

• he immediately asked Evan who it was from

• Evan blushes and mumbles Connor

• Jared demands a wider explanation

• he doesn’t stop teasing Evan about it

• At school Jared starts acting funny around Connor and Connor starts to freak out cause

• SHIT IS JARED THE LETTER GUY

• but he calms down for a second when Jared accidentally spills the beans

• Connor was reading another one of Evans’s notes, Jared walks up to him with a shit eating grin and says

• 'Another love note from Evan Tree Boy Hansen I see.’

• Connor is instantly relieved they’re not from Jared

• he then freaks out cause THE CUTE QUIET DORKY NERD THAT SITS BEHIND ME IN MATH WRITES ME FUCKING LETTERS

• Connor corners Evan after school

• Evan is nervous cause he thinks Connor hates him.

• he is pleasantly surprised when Connor gives him a quick thank you before dashing off

• Connor then starts to write Evan letters on Wednesdays and Fridays. Monday’s are the chill day

• Connor finally accepts that he totally loves Evan but he still thinks that Evan could never like him that way, especially since the guy Evan mentions in his letter can’t be him

• beautiful brown hair? Nope

• gorgeous blue eyes that seem to have a hint of brown in the left one? Well yes but they aren’t gorgeous, his are hideous

• a face that was crafted by God himself? Absolutely not

• Evan starts to wonder if Connor wants to be friends with him and asks him exactly that in a letter

• Connor replies with a 'no shit’ and his phone number

• Evan was ecstatic when they hung out for the first time

• so was Connor

• and their moms

• at the end of senior year, Evan tells Connor that he has to take a gap year to save up money

• Connor decides he’s not going to college without Evan as he doesn’t know how to make friends and he was just fucking lucky with Evan

• They were hanging out at Evans house the next winter and they both had a few drinks cause what 18 year old doesn’t drink. Evan isn’t THAT innocent guys

• they both tell each other that they like one another and share a small kiss that they both have wanted for a while

• they fall asleep on the couch, holding each other

Imma stop there. Feel free to add on, that was insanely long and I might write an actual thing for this?

B99 + Apartment AU: in which Jake, Charles, Rosa, and Amy live together while attending the police academy.

  • They technically see each other every day at training, but they all still try to hang out together once a week. (Usually movie nights, occasionally game nights, sometimes with alcohol, always in pajamas.) 
  • Charles offers to make dinner for all of them some time during their first week together. – He makes a dish involving bull testicles and is never allowed to cook for them again. (He’s still allowed to make hot cocoa though, which Jake asks for every time he comes home with a bruise.) 
  • Amy dies a little on the inside every morning Jake sleepily pads into the kitchen, hair still messed up from sleep and voice still a bit hoarse. 
  • The smoke alarm goes off almost every time Amy attempts to cook something. 
  • The number of times Amy has thought about just walking over to Jake’s room and kissing him senseless is  r i d i c u l o u s.
  • Rosa has at least three extra locks on her door, and none of the others have seen the inside of her room. (After catching Gina sneak out of there the morning after their graduation, Jake bribes her into telling him exactly how it looks like.) 
  • Jake somehow manages to leave various articles of clothing everywhere, and this annoys Amy to no end. (Partly because each rumpled shirt just makes her think about what it would feel like to tear his clothes off herself.)
  • Amy puts a calendar on their fridge and implements a cleaning schedule, with the chores all divvied up between the four of them. Jake complains very loudly about this at first but later has a ton of fun dancing around their living room while vacuuming and scream-singing Taylor Swift songs.
  • Charles regularly helps Rosa with her texting game. (Amy tries to contribute at some point, but her offer to proofread messages is quickly shot down.) 
  • From her room, Amy hears the door slamming closed followed by the sound of muffled voices and giggling. She peaks her head out a bit, and her stomach lurches when she catches a blur of bodies making their way toward Jake’s room. She crashes at Kylie’s that night because the walls in their apartment are thin, and she doesn’t want to hear a thing. (It’s a drunken one night stand that doesn’t come to anything because the girl’s apparently in law school studying to be a defense attorney.) 
  • Charles and Rosa do yoga together on Sunday mornings. They try to get Jake and Amy into it, but Jake just makes a joke out of everything, and Amy becomes weirdly competitive about it. 
  • Jake once woke everyone up at an ungodly hour because he had been watching a nature documentary and yelling over the grossness of live births. He since then has been banned from watching nature documentaries past midnight. 
  • Every so often (more and more frequently as time passes), Jake and Amy find themselves sitting on the floor of their living room way past 2 am, just talking and laughing. (Charles and Rosa can hear them from their rooms, but neither of them say anything about it.)  
  • Through the wall between their rooms, Rosa can hear Amy creepily singing songs before each big test/evaluation at the academy. The third time this happens, Rosa knocks on Amy’s door and stays with her until she’s calmed down. (”You’ll do great. Stop stressing, dum-dum.”)
  • Jake runs out of shampoo and doesn’t want to dig through Charles’ erotic shampooing kit, so he sneaks into the girls’ bathroom and steals a bit from the first bottle he sees. (Turns out it’s Amy’s, and it drives him nuts that he smells like her the whole day. Amy somehow doesn’t notice, but Rosa threatens to castrate him if he ever enters their bathroom again.) 
  • Charles likes to blast show tunes while doing chores or cooking large meals (or doing anything, really). They’ve all had front row seats to his renditions of choice songs from Oliver, Annie, and Cats. 
  • Amy’s usually pretty neat, so Rosa is shocked to enter her room to find nuts all over the floor… and on her shirt, and in her hair, and somehow on her bed a few feet away. (”Jake said I couldn’t catch any of these with my mouth, so I’m just-” “Don’t care. Call me if you grab each other’s asses.”) 
  • Jake’s been thinking of asking Amy out for ages, but he’s too afraid of the potential fallout. Both Charles and Rosa try to talk him into doing something about his feelings.
  • Amy once catches Jake coming out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Needless to say, all work was forgotten that evening, and she had to take a long shower herself. 
  • It’s during one of their 3 am heart-to-heart convos that Jake and Amy finally kiss, and they don’t end up sleeping until the sun starts to rise. When Amy comes out of Jake’s room close to lunch time (donning one of his checkered shirts, because her pajama top is nowhere to be found), she finds a spread of various aphrodisiacs (courtesy of Charles) and a box of condoms (courtesy of Rosa) on their dining table. 

Shout out to @peraltiagoisland, @elsaclack, @dogworldchampion, @stardustsantiago, and @tiadorable for letting me yell about this AU and helping me come up with these headcanons!!!!!!!!

Bnha dorm head canons

So with posting the rooms and whatnot, I finally noticed the kitchen next to the lounge. And I really wish showed a bit more how meals go in the manga but-

- Everyone labels their food. There’s often fights about missing food

- Mineta guards all his food by putting balls on them. Which gets really annoying because the others can’t get them off their own stuff if they happen to touch

- Someone keeps eating Bakugou’s cereal and he throws a fit every time. It’s become a running joke for the class to make sure he never finds out who it is (it’s Kaminari)

- Yaoyorozu and Todoroki tried making dinner together once, but they had no clue what they were doing and caught several things on fire. Todoroki panicked and froze half the kitchen

- While Sato normally bakes in his room, he sometimes bakes something in the kitchen for everyone to share

- Ashido once took half of the cake without anyone noticing until it was too late

- Bakugou is banned from the kitchen when someone else is cooking because he gets frustrated if they’re doing something wrong and tries to take over

- Midoriya, Uraraka, Tokoyami, Kirishima, and Jirou are the people that are for some reason in the kitchen at 3 AM for a snack

- Iida hates the kitchen because it’s always so unorganized and “For the love of god, CLEAN UP AFTER YOU MAKE SOMETHING!”

- Uraraka tried making pasta once at 4 AM, but she spilled all the noodles on the ground

-Todoroki walked into the kitchen and was very confused because she was just laying on the floor with a defeated look on her face, surrounded by noodles

- Shoji is the best for breakfast foods. Sure it’s just simple things like eggs and toast, but he does it so well

- They made popcorn for a movie night, but not the bagged kind. The dump kernels into a machine let the popcorn pop out into a bowl kind

- Problem is: Kirishima poured in WAY to many kernels so the class had to fill all the bowls they had with popcorn. And still a good portion ended up on the floor

- Tsuyu is one of the few besides Bakugou who can cook well. But since she has younger siblings, her cooking is more geared towards kids (Micky Mouse pancakes, sandwiches cut into triangles, ect.)

- since they’re free to eat whenever on weekends, it’s common for friend groups to meet up at the same time to eat, everyone has some sort of unofficial schedule

- Somehow Tsuyu and Bakugou ended up in a cooking compitetion (she really didn’t want to be, but everyone was so pumped for it). Sero filmed the whole thing while Ashido and Kirishima played the announcers, holding up cooking utensils as mics

- “Bakugou is getting fired up!!! Is the pressure getting to him?!” “But man, look at Tsu go! She’s hardly breaking a sweat!”

- They kept going around from student to student, asking who they were rooting for “So who’s your pick to be the NEXT Class 1-A chef champion?!”

- Tsu wins and Bakugou doesn’t leave his room for the entire weekend

To the people who are upset about the Wanna One final line up and are calling the top 11 talentless,

How? How can you say that? None of the top 11 are talentless. All of them deserve to be there. The issue was that there were only 11 spots and 20 amazing, talented boys who deserved those spots. In fact, all 101 of the trainees are talented. I could go on and on about how talented each and every member of that show is, but I’ll just talk to you about the top 20. 

TR;DL: It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Mnet’s. DO NOT BLAME ANY OF THE FINAL WANNA ONE MEMBERS. IF you wanna be mad, BLAME MNET. 

Rank 20 - Choi Minki - Nu’EST’s Ren - Ahh Ren, he was very good at everything. Maybe not the best in any regard but definitely an all rounder. Singing. Dancing. Variety. Visuals. All check. The issue with him gettng this rank however was that Mnet’s edits didn’t give him much screen time (this is the case with many of the following on this list). 

Rank 19 - Joo Haknyeon - He is talented. Despite needing some help, this boy is talented. He just learns slower than the other trainees and was greedy for positions he wasn’t ready to take on. He got way too much uncalled for hate because of it. I want to see him make a comeback one day as a stronger, wiser person.

Rank 18 - Kim Samuel - I shouldn’t have to say this but Samuel choreographed a lot of the dances they did for P101- hell he choreographed the Super Hot stage (baby is only 15 TwT). He kicked ass as center in Showtime! He was also good in Get Ugly! But Mnet didn’t give him that many behind the scenes cuts so I think that might have hurt him. He truly deserved so much better and I am going to support his solo. Hopefully, one day, he’ll debut in a group. 

Rank 17 - Yoo Seonho - He’s got cute maknae charms and improved so much throughout the show. He’s only been a trainee for 6 months and despite that he grew a lot in a matter of months. I’m so proud of you, Seonho. Thank you for comforting all the people who needed it at the finale. You are an absolute angel who deserved to debut as well.

Rank 16 - Anh Hyungseob - Hyungseob is a good dancer and despite not being the best singer he tries very hard. He’s also hilarious XD (fondly remembers the times he ran into a door) He’s also got variety skills. *cough* His rank is probably low cause the Yuehua boys are planning to debut soon *cough*

Rank 15 - Im Youngmin - Great dancer. Great rapper. I don’t need to say anything. Just watch any of his performances and you’ll see. He got fucked over by his fake scandals and because knetz eat people alive without knowing if the rumor is true or not. 

Rank 14 - Kim Jonghyun - Nu’EST’s JR - Amazing leader, who is selfless and always a sweetheart. He could have asked for center. He could have been greedy and asked for more lines. He never once did. On top of that, he’s a great rapper and a great dancer. Plus he a cute shy Wartortle. I have no clue how someone who was hailed the Nation’s Leader didn’t make it into the Nation’s Boy Group. 

Rank 13 - Kang Dongho - Nu’EST’s Baekho - He had vocals for days and visuals for days. His charisma was like fire and his personality is so <3 He was the cute babysitter for all the kids of P101 and I’m honestly so sad Guanlin lost his fav sexy uncle. 

Rank 12 - Jung Sewoon - Okay, look I love Ponyo . I love him so damn much you don’t even know. I was depressed when I saw him not get in. I can’t put into words how much I wanted him to be in the top 11. I thought he wouldn’t be close to 11 because he was 19 last time, but damn I feel trolled about this. VOCALS. DANCING. CUTENESS. I want to see him again in the future so badly.

Rank 11- Ha Sungwoon - HOTSHOT’s Sungwoon - It’s probably not right for me to say I didn’t want him in the top 11 because he needs to return to HOTSHOT so they can finally have a comeback. But he was Rank A from the start. Even Boa was like how are such talented kids not popular. 

Rank 10 - Bae Jinyoung - A lot of you seem to have an issue with BaeJin. But he’s got stage presences. He might not have shown it off at the start but he improved so much since then. Plus he has a great personality which you can see in any of the back stage cams since the actual show cuts his and Jihoon’s screen time.

Rank 9 - Hwang Minhyun - Nu’EST Minhyun- Don’t fucking sit here and tell me Jonghyun deserves to debut but then go off and say the top 11 aren’t talented when Minhyun is fucking in the top 11. Emperor Hwang has everything. Visuals, vocals, dance skills, and the relationship with the rest of the top 11. He made half this top 11 happen. So much talent you can’t even. 

Rank 8 - Yoon Jisung-  Auntie Jisung was gonna give up if he didn’t debut. He has stable af vocals while dancing. Plus he’s hilarious. Like really fucking funny. That’s been evident since he made himself a meme in episode 1. He took care of whatever team he led. I’m so so glad he got to debut. 

Rank 7 - Lai Guanlin - I personally didn’t want him to debut because I think he’s too young and still has a lot of growing to do. He wasn’t the best rapper or dancer but he’s got stage presence not only that but he was also only a trainee for 6 months. He’s only been in Korea for 6 months. Plus he’s like 16 so chill. 

Rank 6 - Park Woojin - I will flip tables if you tell me Park Woojin didn’t deserve top 11. He had shingles and still gave a bomb performance. He’s a great dancer and always draws attention when he’s on stage. He’s a great rapper too. He’s been Rank A from the start (BNM kids are so talented guys).

Rank 5 - Ong Seongwoo - Talented. So fucking talented. I can’t. He’s funny af, he’s an amazing dancer, he’s a god singer, he’s got a great personality, AND he’s got actor like visuals. Seriously, how can you call him untalented? Again he was rank A from the start. 

Rank 4 - Kim Jaehwan - If you have hearing, you know Jaehwan is talented. He improved his dancing so much to be here. Plus he’s savage and hilarious. Kim Jaehwan was actually someone I was worried wouldn’t enter top 11 because he didn’t have a strong solo fanbase.

Rank 3 - Lee Daehwi - This child did not suffer to have you call him untalented. He’s an adorable baby who can do it all. He is only 16 and he writes songs for crying out loud! He can dance and sing and maybe rap (I think). He was also Rank A from the start! (All the BNM kids are talented af so never fucking say he’s talentless)

Rank 2 - Park Jihoon - Got here because he winked BUT that doesn’t mean he’s not talented. He’s a good dancer like a really good dancer, And he knows how to work a camera, clearly. He’s not the best singer but he tries. He’s an okay rapper but we never got to see much of that. Jihoon is adorable and cute and a whole lot of goot things but people kept bashing him for getting to the top because he winked. He’s still talented though (Rank B isn’t that bad cause Jaehwan was Rank B).

Rank 1 - Kang Daniel - I will not take anyone calling him untalented. Seriously there are too many people saying he didn’t deserve it. Have you watched ANY of his stages. He ALWAYS stole the show and he’s NEVER been center. Look, people forgot he was a rapper because he sang so much on this show. Like he gave all the rap parts to other rappers because he knew they couldn’t sing. He’s an angel who loves cats and people. He’s also awkwardly hilarious. He was bound to be in the top 11 from the moment he hugged small Woojin. Worked hard and moved from Rank B to Rank A. Watch any of his fancams and prepare to be shook. 

If you’ve made it this far, I applaud you. 

Wanna One is talented.

Everyone in the top 20 was talented. 

I wish they made a group with the top 20 because I loved so many of them.