he's all tired and home from work

❝ You are really perfect ❞

Plot:  You and Jimin fights, he calls you clingy and annoying and says he hates when you steal his clothes. So you begin to act “cold”, because you don’t want to be clingy and annoying, first he didn’t realise you stopped doing that but then he does and feels guilty and sad and you can keep going from that, so he makes it up to you.

Pairing: JiminxReader

Words count: 2,3k+

Genre: Slighty angst/Fluff in the end 

For anon, I hope you like it! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner!

Everyone at the Big Hit building knew you, so when you came with snacks for everyone they could not do anything but love you even more.  

Immediately one of BTS’ manager told you that they were in the rehearsal room, so smiling you did a deep bow as a thanksgiving and you headed to the rehearsal room.  

It was the first time you visited the new building, but fortunately, a gentle lady pointed you in the direction you had to follow. They were all so polite and kind that you almost felt a rude person in comparison, even though your boyfriend kept saying you were the best person he had ever known.  

Trying not to drop anything, you didn’t want to waste the morning you spent cooking leaving the food on the ground, you’d better squeeze the heat bag in your hand and knocked gently on the blown glass door that divided the rest of the world from the Bangtan.  

A “c'mon” practically screamed at lungs gave you permission to enter and making, even more, attention you opened the door and entered, recognizing immediately Jungkook’s and Taehyung screams that greeted you enthusiastically.  

“Noooooona!” Jungkook ran to help you, perhaps more interested in the food than your presence but you could understand it. Surely they were practicing for hours and they had to be all hungry.  

“Hi Kookie, yes you can bring away the food….” You giggled as you approached the rest of the group, already trying to check what was in the bag. Check and scream of joy, because it was all homemade food and already just opening the zipper the scent was flared out.  

You’d fix better Jimin’s T-shirt you wore, you slipped it into skinny jeans because you were smaller and even lower than him, noticing only at that moment the slightly detached look of your boyfriend. Jimin wasn’t looking at you and it was almost a surprise because his smile was always the first thing to welcome you when you went to spend some time with them.  

“Aigoooo, Y/N, you cook better than Jin Hyung!” The voice of the leader rang in the room, making you laugh as you sat next to the pink-haired boy. You caressed his forearm, but the smile he made was visibly pulled so that you could be worried that something had happened before you arrived.  

He hadn’t touched food yet and didn’t seem intent on doing it, which pushed you to ask him what was going on.  

“Hey.. Something wrong, Chiminnie? ”  


You flinched slightly feeling his blunt response, while with the corner of the eye you would notice Namjoon’s gaze on you. He seemed worried and this did nothing but confirm your concerns.  

“Are you sure..?”  

“Y/N; Stop. I said there’s nothing wrong, can you just worry about your business for once?  

Keep reading

drfm  asked:

yooo pilot! how u doing? mind throwing me a doodle prompt to warm up with ? :)

okay this is incredibly specific but ima dump my ot4 headcanon on you and if you can figure out something to draw with it i’d die inside.

Older, settled ot4, they all live together and sleep in one massive bed. Marinette Alya and Adrien all manage to wake up at a respectable hour because of work or thats just how they are, but ninos job forces him to be up late and sleep in late since he works from home. So thus, Nino hates mornings, and he also hates being alone. He is in a relationship wth three other people (from an outside perspective someone might even think six thanks to superhero identites), he did not get in to this deal to be left alone when he is tired and cranky, and thus very clingy. 

So the super three have this running joke about ‘the bed goblin’ and how it can totally screw up your whole morning and make you late for work if you wander too close to the bed. Because Nino refuses to be alone, but he also refuses to leave his bed until 11 am at the earliest. 

So on mornings it is super common to see a pair of grumpy, sleepy golden eyes glaring at your from the cave of blankets on the bed, watching you. and if you get cocky or caught up in your own stuff you can get got. 

Imagine Adrien standing by his bedside table to unplug his phone from the charger, but he sees he has a notification so he gets distracted and sort of loiters near the bed for a second, checking his phone. He is starting to type out a response when he feels a hand clutch loosely at his belt, gripping it. Adrien suddenly remembers where he is but its too late, an arm has wrapped around his stomach and the girls just hear loud, indignant protests as Adrien is kidnanpped by the bed goblin and dragged back into bed, where Nino now has a complete hold on him and has no intention of letting go.

The girls know adrien has to go to work but also if they go in to help they are going to get stuck too so they abandon their boyfriends and laugh really hard when they hear adrien grumpily call off work and Ninos self satisfied chuckle. 

Everyone at some point has missed work because of the bed goblin, and nino does not feel bad about it at all. 

if not that, anything ot4 i love those guys. 

I feel like Sherlock would be the husband to use his influence to invite John’s favorite celebrities to the flat to surprise him and then act like he doesn’t know who they are.

“Hello again Sir Elton, remember when I stopped those costume thieves for you? Listen, it’s my husband John’s birthday and he loves you a lot, so if you could stop off for a bit and surprise him, that would be great.”

And of course Sir Elton John would drop everything and come for Sherlock-Fucking-Holmes and they would both be chilling in the flat until John comes home from work. Sherlock will be like, “Quick! Sit in the client’s chair!”

And then John would come home all tired and stressed and like, “Oh, we have a…Oh. My. God. Elton John’s in my flat.” And drop his suitcase

Sherlock’s like, “Who? This is a client.”

John’s face would be like: :O “Don’t tell me you don’t know Elton John.”

Elton be there stirring his tea like nothing and Sherlock will be fake irritated. “What are you on about?”

John will keep trying to tell Sherlock who he is and even sing a few of his songs and his husband will just sit there trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. Then Sherlock will turn to Elton and be like, “Now, why are you here?”

And Elton will smile and be like, “To wish John Watson a happy birthday.”

And John will be like ( ゚o゚) and then Sherlock will turn around with a big ass smile on his face and say softly, “Happy birthday, John.”“

And then maybe after Elton sings him a song or two and leaves, John kisses Sherlock a lot and says, "Thank you so so much love.”

And then the second part after the cake and the surprise is when they go to the bedroom ;)

@watsonshoneybee @sappylock @vitruvianwatson @love-in-mind-palace


Vegas | Tease | Oops | D | Game | Mistake

Series: Vegas

Note: The moment you all have been waiting for… Hold onto your caps, people, because this one is a roller coaster.

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: Language, angst…no smut in this one, guys. 😳

Tagging:  @gwash4prez @jazy2015 @alexanderhamllton @this-ally-loves-you @duckoffury @hamrevolution @curiositykilledthecompanion @thegirlonhamilton @shinymarbles @legattoassassino @nadialinett14 @an-abundance-of-hannahs @someonesblogger @the-ashy-phoenix @hamiltrashinn @texasprincess3 @patchesthed00t @teenage-band-loser @hetafairyaot @hmltntrsh51 @kkoolaid1 @londonbridgefalling @ashthewinchestergirl @aquamarrineee @pearltheartist @bluesnowyangel @sitdownjohn-youfatmotherfucker @edge-oftonight @vishuddhakid @kink-george @loopietoopie @hamil-scribbles @iamgrayfox @zaire-is-worth-it @hamiltonwasbienough @butter-times @lilybutterworthstuff @velvetsirius @fandom-nerdness7 @snoozing-hippogriffs-23 @agent-fangirl @traash-canz @meand-mybrain @jadee-ee @oshlow @me—lancholy @ridiculousn3ssfangirl @pearltheartist @bluesnowyangel @finnydraws @secretary-thomas-jefferson @completehamiltrash @clamilton @for-god-sake-john-sit-down @manateegrl @meavenel @hamilsquadsrighthandman @seungcheoljpg @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @i-am-trash1828 @helplessly-hamiltrash @haletotheking24 @bootybiersack @thoughtfulbearpanda @5vibesofsummer @completehamiltrash @canadianfruitpunch @faatlouie @accidentally-impeccable @ask-sherlock-221b @missgallaxy @nonxstop @emilysyrup @erinlikestrains @basheverythingyesterday @yukiyoru @duckslier3 @sweetestjensener @pearltheartist

You knew you’d fucked up.

The second those words flew out of your mouth, your eyes shot open and your breath caught in your throat. You were quickly shaken from the spell Daveed had placed you under, and as reality settled in, you began to panic.

Without delay, you pushed Daveed off you and clambered off the bed. He was silent and you didn’t know if it was because he was in shock or because he was still coming down from his high, but either way, you knew you had to get out of there before he started speaking.

You were pulling your jeans on hastily when you finally spoke up. “I uh…I-I gotta go.” You said, trying to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. “It’s really late and I think I forgot to do something back home.”

“Y/N…” Daveed breathed softly, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at you.

Keep reading

“3 Weeks”

requested // yes

requests are open // request here

AN // This is pure filth and I’m sorry

TW // Smut, profanity

“Sexual-Frustration. Noun. (countable and uncountable, plural sexual frustrations) A state of agitation felt by an individual whose sexual satisfaction is considerably less than desired”

3 weeks. It had been 3 weeks since he last touched her. It’s not intentional, he’s just been so busy he’s barely noticed and to be fair neither had she but her body had.

For the first week she was fine, content with his fleeting lips on her forehead as he rushed out the door are the tired kisses he gave when he got home late. She was okay with only feeling his hands on the small of her back as he reached over her for his razor as she brushed her teeth. She was fine. The second week was manageable, yes his fleeting lips left her flustered and his tired kisses left her wanting more and sure when his hand brushed over the small of her back it left goosebumps in it’s wake but she could ignore it. She was fine. So why tonight, on the 3 week mark, is she so temperamental? Why has she been short with him all day and why couldn’t she focus on anything at work?

She’d been home from work for about an hour when he walked through the bedroom door. He’s mad at her, she yelled at him this morning for reasons he was unaware of. She’d dodged his phone calls all day and ignored his attempts at finding out what was wrong. Yet he still notices her staring at him when he walks into the room, can see her sat on the bed with her now closed book and her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes follow him around the room, he can feel her watching him and that’s when it clicks. 

He turns and walks to her like a predator who’s found his victim, his hands pulled her clothes off slowly and then parted her thighs as she watched him with wide eyes. He’s not touching her, not how she needs him to, not where she needs him to. He’s leaning over her with that goddamn smirk on his face as his fingers lightly trace her inner thigh.

“Saw yeh staring. This what’s got you so frustrated? Pretty girl missed my hands on her huh?” 

She can’t respond, she doesn’t need to. He knows her answer, can feel her answer.

“Missed y’too, missed how your body reacts to me like the earth does to lightning. Missed how you arch into me, as needful of me as I am of you. Missed this.

She still doesn’t answer, it’s as though his touch leaves her speechless. Her body is too busy welcoming the feeling of his hands on her skin to reply, too busy forming goosebumps to form words.

“S’my pretty girl not gonna talk to me? She not even gonna moan for me?”

He’s asking for it now, almost teasingly, he can see what he’s doing to her yet he still wants to hear it. He wants to hear her.

“Harry I…”

“What baby? Can’t please you if I don’t know what you want”

And she’s trying, trying to tell him what she needs, trying to ask for more but she just can’t. She’s overwhelmed, he hasn’t touched her for weeks and it’s too much yet not enough all at once.

“H please

“Please what poppet?”

He’s making her beg for it. It’s like he’s punishing her, for being moody with him, for not just asking him to touch her, for making him work it out for himself.

“Please touch me, need you to touch me”

“But I am touching you gorgeous”

She almost sobs, she’s so desperate and he’s toying with her. A moan escaped her as his hands moved to her pubic bone. It was all too slow. The moan was more dissatisfaction than the opposite but still it evokes a teasing glint in his eye.

“Am I close sweetheart? M’I close to where you want me?”

All she can do is nod, he’s so close but he’s not there.

“What about here? is this better?”

His hand is flat against her mound and his thumb is rubbing softly just above the top of her clit. Her eyes are wide and watery as she silently pleads with him to give her what she’s so desperate for.

“Oh no, that’s not what you want is it sweets? No, you want me here”

His thumb finally touches her nerves and it has her gasping like it the first time she’s breathed since she saw him walk into the bedroom. He’s barely done anything but yet she’s arching her back and gripping his arm and he’s enthralled with it, with her, he’s only rubbing her in slow circles and she’s writhing.


“What was that my love?”

He’s not teasing her anymore, not trying to make her beg, he was just so wrapped up in watching her squirm that he couldn’t comprehend what she was asking for.

“Please H, need more”

“My sweet girl wants more huh? Wants me to make her cum?”

She’s breathless, the rasp in his voice driving her insane. All she can do is say “please” like that and his name are all that’s in her vocabulary right now. Her please makes him smile, she’s completely as his mercy and he loves it. He slips his fore and middle finger into her while his thumb presses steady circles into her clit and she’s whimpering and to him it sounds like heaven. He knows her body like he knows his own name, he knows what makes her tick, so when his fingers touch the most sensitive spots inside of her and she lets out a cry he just smiles, her body is his and he knows how to use it. She can feel her stomach tightening and her heart beat in her throat.

“So close”

“Yeah? Is my pretty girl going to cum for me? Gonna let me watch you break?”

Her eyes are squeezed shut as she nods, he can see tears threatening to spill and he’s proud. His fingers stop moving and instead they press on her softest spot, the spot that makes her scream. The pressure there coupled with his thumb on her clit is too much, she’s hypersensitive and he’s using it against her. Both of her hands grip his wrist as she lets out a sob, his head snaps up in worry just to be stunned with the image of his girl completely wrecked because of him and he swears it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. His free hand moves to cup one side of her face as his thumb brushes away her stray tears, something so innocent compared to what his other thumb is doing to her.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me, that’s my good girl”

His lips are on her cheek as she cums, her hands leave his wrist to grip his shirt tightly in her fist. Her body is stiff and her eyes are shut, tears are still streaming down her face but she’s silent. He’s watching her completely fall apart and he can’t believe he’s gone 3 weeks without seeing this, why was he depriving himself of such a beautiful sight? She’s shuddering as she comes down, her eyes still closed but the death grip she had on his shirt slowly being released as he lays her back against the bed.

“Are you okay my love?”

A shaky breath leaves her as she nods and opens her eyes to look him

“I’ve missed you”

It’s a quiet confession that he would’ve missed had he not been solely focused on her. It makes his heart ache. How he could ever leave this perfect girl, his perfect girl, without his touch for so long is beyond him and he’s making a promise to himself to never leave her without him for that long again, never going to deprive himself of her again. 

Tasty* ~ [1/2]

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Rating: Mature - 18+ only
Summary: Reader prepares the last important details of Chris’ thirty-sixth birthday party, but he can only think of one or two ways he’d like to celebrate this day with her.
Word Count: 2.5k
Genre: Fluff/Mild smut
Warnings: build up; mentions of sex/innuendos, Chris being a dork and a butt guy, slight food play/kink, make out session and language!
Author’s Note: I know, Chris’ birthday was yesterday (June 13th), but I actually wrote so much that I had to split this into two parts. The actual smut will be in the last part hopefully up tomorrow. Once again, happy birthday to the Dorito and enjoy! xx

    “Dodger, come here,” you whispered and the dog padded out of the kitchen, stopping at your feet. You bent and patted his back as his tail wagged excitedly.

    Staring back at your reflection in the mirror of the foyer, you smoothed out your dress - the same summer dress you’d wear on your first date with Chris three years ago - and you applied your cranberry lip balm. You weaved a hand through your hair, pushed up your breasts and you picked up the breakfast tray you’d left on the entryway table.

    “What do you think? He’s going to like it, right?” You asked Dodger and laughed at how ridiculous you sounded. My God, I’m talking to a dog.

    Keep reading


    RIVALRY. Pt.1

    Genre: Angst. Gang! AU. 

    Warnings: Mentions of blood & violence. That’s it.

    Pairings: Mark x reader x Namjoon ft GOTBANG collaboration.

    Summary: You’re innocently caught in the crossfire of two of Korea’s deadliest gangs, after an argument with your gang leader boyfriend. Could you have been hurt by someone closer to home? Or has the rivalry between the two become personal? Remember not everything is as simple as black and white..

    Keep reading

    The Arrangement (pt 3)

    The following days went by as usual, if not quieter. You don’t know what changed from the night of the dinner party, but you feel like something did. You saw Jimin in a new light after finding out that he told his friends about his unhappy marriage. It just made you realize how unhappy he truly was. How unhappy you truly were. And now you longed to have someone to tell your worries to, but you couldn’t risk it. Not when your parent’s happiness was on the line.

    So you sucked it up. You bottled up your emotions once again and just tried not to upset Jimin any further. Clearly the smallest things were setting him off, and you rather not have any stress from him. Your marriage was already stressful enough. 

    After another exhausting day at work, Jimin found his way to a bar where his friends were already seated and chatting. 

    “Hey! Jimin’s here!” said Jungkook as he spots Jimin heading their way. All six boys turn to face him, noticing how lifeless he looked. 

    “Hey guys…” Jimin says slowly as he pulls up a chair near Taehyung and ordered a drink. 

    “You look tired..maybe you should go home and rest…?” Namjoon offered slowly.

    “No.” was all he got as a response. The boys all knew about his life at home and though they felt bad for their friend, they couldn’t help but feel worse for you. 

    “Ok so we were all talking and we realized…you never had a housewarming party!” Jin said, try to get the others excited.

    “Yeah! So we’re going to come to your house this weekend and have a little party” Taehyung said, nudging Jimin’s shoulders a little.

    “I rather not” Jimin said dully.

    “We weren’t asking” Yoongi said cooly.

    Jimin knew his friends weren’t going to take no for an answer. 

    The following day, you woke up late and was hurrying to make a breakfast, although small, for Jimin. As the eggs were cooking, you heard Jimin shuffle into the small dining room and started to panic when you realized you didn’t have any food placed on the table. But Jimin just sat there, reading emails on his phone. He realized you were running late, and although he was somewhat annoyed, he didn’t want to start anything with you.

    In the next few minutes, you placed his food down in front of him without saying anything. Since you were in a rush, you eggs looked somewhat ugly this morning and you mentally scolded yourself for not waking up on time. 

    You noticed Jimin opening his mouth, signaling he was about to say something and you immediately prepared yourself for his cold words. When did you become this pathetic? 

    This Saturday, my friends are coming over, so leave for the day” he said coldly. 

    Weekends were no different from a weekday, Jimin would leave early in the morning if he ever did come home. You never knew. But you would have the house to yourself. You told yourself that all this time you had to youself, you would learn how to love yourself more. But how could you love yourself when the man who was supposed to be your husband despised you? Made you feel like you weren’t good enough. Not worth love?

    So you were a little pissed when you realized he was kind of kicking you out for the day. Sure, you could always hang with some of your girls or go home and spend time with your parents. It’s not like you didn’t have options, but you were still pissed nonetheless. 

    “oh..ok” you said slowly. Any appetite you had was suddenly gone. So you made your way to your bedroom and waited for Jimin to leave. 

    Saturday soon came along and Jimin mentioned that his friends would be there around noon. You decided to go hang out with you mom for some time and get your nails or something done. You missed the little dates you had with you mom before you got married. She was your like your best friend, and oh my you missed her dearly. You wore one of your favorite dresses to lift your mood a little before you saw your mother. You put on a little makeup and decided a little was enough and decided to get on your way. You checked the time, and it was only 11:15, but you didn’t want to risk running into his friends. It would only upset Jimin more. 

    So you hurriedly walked out of the house, noting that Jimin was sitting on the couch, just casually browsing on his phone. He didn’t acknowledge you, and you didn’t acknowledge him. For a change, he would be the one in the empty house alone, even though it was only till his friends came along. But still, it made you wonder how it would make him feel. 

    Keep reading

    you’re hot (when you’re mad)

    isaac knows the perfect way to distract his wife when she’s angry.  

    Keep reading

    ficlet: all the glory that i bare (even/isak)

    Summary: Isak buzzes his hair off on a dare. Even suffers through the five stages of grief. (a.k.a., yes, I wrote a ficlet in response to Tarjei’s new haircut. Sorry not sor—you know what, yes, actually I am very sorry.) Can also be found on AO3 here.


    When Isak walks through the door, Even does a double take.

    Okay, maybe it’s more like a quintuple take. Who’s counting?

    “What did you do to your hair?” he blurts, and it maybe comes out a little sharper than intended, because Isak winces pretty hard at his tone.

    But…he just walked through the door…like that. Like it was no big deal. Like the Earth hadn’t just shifted on its fucking axis. Like Even’s entire reality wasn’t suddenly crumbling around him.

    So, yeah. Faced with this…this travesty…Even can hardly be blamed for his reaction.

    “Is it bad?” Isak asks, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We got so drunk last night, and I can remember Magnus daring me to buzz it off but I honestly don’t remember actually doing it.”

    Even’s going to find Magnus. He’s going to find Magnus, and he’s going to have words with him. Man to man. Dude to dude. Fist to face.

    Okay, maybe not that last one. Even’s not a violent guy.

    But still.

    Keep reading

    Marvin counts how many times they kiss throughout the day.

    1. when Marvin’s just woken up, and Whizzer’s already showered. “good morning,” Whizzer says into Marvin’s lips, “your breath is disgusting.” Marvin smacks him away, and groans, and buries his face into the pillow again.
    2. when Marvin finishes shaving and pats his cheeks with aftershave, Whizzer saunters into the bathroom and repeats the motion before pulling him in for a kiss. “can’t i do one thing in peace?” Marvin asks, grinning. Whizzer hums – of course not. 
    3. when Whizzer serves breakfast, eggs over spinach over toast, Marvin drags him down by the collar and kisses him, deeply. he lets go and pushes him away a little and smiles, turns back to his breakfast and pretends it never happened. payback. 
    4. when Marvin leaves for work, he asks for a goodbye kiss. Whizzer plants one on his cheek as he shoves him out the door. 
    5. when Whizzer gets home (half an hour after Marvin, sweaty from the day’s activities, grinning and tired and content), Marvin pushes him against the wall of their foyer, shoves a leg between Whizzer’s, kisses up his neck. “i’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he says, and Whizzer believes it. 
    6. (there are too many kisses to count after that – he kisses along the line of Whizzer’s jaw, his bared neck, the soft spot between his thighs that always makes him melt. Marvin gives up his counting game for a few moments there and gets lost in the beauty of Whizzer’s body.)
    7. when Whizzer cooks dinner, twenty minutes later with his pants still unzipped and his motions easy and loose, Marvin comes up behind him. “what’s for dinner?” he asks, launching himself onto his tiptoes, tucking his chin onto Whizzer’s shoulder. “none of your business,” Whizzer says, carelessly moving away. “you’re an asshole,” Marvin replies, and he kisses the side of Whizzer’s neck before pulling away and huffing.
    8. when Marvin is doing the dishes, Whizzer sidles up beside him. “thank you for cleaning, dear,” he says, half-mocking the pet name. Marvin grumbles, and Whizzer smiles at him. he turns Marvin’s face towards his and kisses just to the left of where Marvin’s mouth, soft and ever-sweet. Marvin does his best to still be huffy afterward, but he isn’t fooling anyone.
    9. in the middle of their late-night SNL viewing on Marvin’s little television, Whizzer removes his legs from their position draped over Marvin’s (knocking the book on his lap in the process) and stretches his arms. “i’m going to the kitchen, do you want anything?” he asks. “wine would be nice?” Marvin replies, raising an eyebrow. Whizzer grins at him, toothy, and leans back for another kiss before busying himself again.
    10. in bed, undressed and unwinding, Whizzer yawns and closes the novel on his lap. “i’m going to bed now,” he says, softly, his gaze soft and affectionate and directed right at Marvin. Marvin leans over, cradles the side of his face, and kisses him gently. “goodnight,” he says into Whizzer’s lips. “goodnight.”
    11. when Marvin decides he’s done reading for the night, he leans over and turns off his bedside lamp. he pulls the covers up to his neck and leans back into Whizzer. he feels Whizzer’s arm snake around his waist and a soft, sleepy kiss pressed into his shoulder. 

    if Marvin never got the complete tally, it’s all right. he always has a new day ahead of him.

    2 | Freak


    WORD COUNT: 7,114

    series warnings: mature themes, violence, blood and gore, murder, emotional manipulation, bullying, mental health deterioration, eventual smut and substance abuse. this chapter contains strong language, light smut, bullying and claustrophobic themes

    Originally posted by jeontrash

    masterlist | ask | prev | coming soon

    Keep reading


    Originally posted by beui

    words: 4k+
    genre: angsty-ish? with a hint of fluff
    a/n: okay, so i’ve been getting a lot of yoongi feels lately & i just wanted to get it all out before it did some serious damage to me lol also, i’ve been feeling the need to get back into writing so what better way than writing about yoongi, amirite? ;D

    summary: min yoongi was a workaholic and he was going to lose the best part of him if he didn’t wake up and realize just how much it was going to hurt if you left him.

    Min Yoongi was everything you’ve ever asked for. He was more than just the love of your life. He was your soulmate, your rock, your pillar. He was what grounded you down when your mind slipped in and out sometimes.

    Dating the man had its ups and downs, though. Yoongi was a workaholic. His music came before anything else in his life, even if it meant you. You tried to understand just how much music meant to him, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try to reason with Yoongi about how much time he was spending in his studio. He never really listened to you despite your attempts to get him to sleep early and rest, though.

    Keep reading

    tutoring sessions | peter parker x reader

    read part one: here

    prompt: continuing your tutoring sessions with peter, you convince your mother to let him come over and help you out with algorithms at your house, with days left until your makeup exam 

    warnings: more fluff tbh, some curse words, use of the word “stupid” 

    notes: thank you for the amount of notes on part one! i really appreciate it. and to those people who requested requested this: @theperksofbeingyourmum, @captainveromendes, @legendarydazekitten, @fridgeisle, @tiny-friggin-human 

    Originally posted by tomshollandss

    “Hey, are you feeling okay?” 

    Peter turned his head, his right arm sore and surely bruised, and his entire back aching. He was healing—that much he could feel, and he felt a lot less like the Hell he did a few days ago after stopping some guy from shooting down a bank—but he still felt like he was dying right now, and he hadn’t been focused at all. 

    “Yeah,” he lied, “I’m fine. Just tired. Aunt May’s been making me do some extra chores.”

    The two of you had been sitting on the floor of your living room, working on some practice tests to prepare you for the real deal that was quickly approaching. This had been one of the many meetings you’ve had during the week, but this was the first that had taken place out of school and actually in your home. 

    You could tell Peter was nervous, his leg bouncing and his fingernails constantly drumming against the wood of your coffee table, and you didn’t know what to do to make him calm down. He had been like this for about forty-five minutes and he barely talked unless it was to explain something or you, yourself, tried to make causal conversation—like the small, playful banter you two had during the first tutoring session. 

    The both of you had talked more during school and gotten to know each other better, and the sight of him looking as uncomfortable as ever made you frown. You were really beginning to wonder why on earth MJ had even thought to pair you up together, especially considering how miserable he looked. 

    He had seemed somewhat joyful when this whole thing had started, and you bit your lip at the thought that he was only trying to be polite. You knew that he was the type of person to do that, after all, and he wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings by refusing so it could’ve been likely that he was only doing this in order to spare you getting offended. 

    You sighed to yourself.

    Well, shit.

    You finished the last equation on your third practice quiz and listened to the scratching of your pencil. 

    Peter had taken a strange easiness in simply shutting up and watching over your shoulder as you did things and the fact that he analyzed you—well, maybe he wasn’t just checking out the work—so closely made you very aware of him; and without a doubt it made you five times more anxious. You solved the problem and backed up, accidentally bumping into his chest and he let out a gruntled sort of sound. 

    “What happened? Did I elbow you or something?” You looked up at him and glanced at his pained expression. 

    Peter shook his head, but he knew it wasn’t fooling you. “No, it’s—it wasn’t you, don’t worry. I just got really sore from, uh…gym!” 

    You raised a brow. Really? That was his lie. If you hadn’t been so worried about him, you could’ve laughed. “Peter, you know MJ told me how terrible of a liar you are.” 

    “Hey, I wouldn’t say I’m that bad of a liar, you know,” He starts defensively, and you cross your arms and pretend like you believe him when suddenly he pauses. “Wait, you guys talk about me?” 

    Peter rolls his eyes at himself and clenches his jaw, shaking his head as he takes a moment to go: Wow, you gigantic spaz. Nice going. He wants to hurl himself out of your house’s nearest window (to be honest, he knew he wouldn’t get hurt anyways, if he really tried) because oh my God, why did he say that?

    It was official. You were never going to talk to him after you take your test and finish it—and let’s face it, you were going to pass, he had the utmost confidence in you (but then again, when did he not?)—and he would lose any slim, one-in-a-million-chances he had with you. 

    Seriously, it would be so much easier to talk to you in a mask. Karen would be great at advice right about now. 

    Then, he sees you blushing—and it’s quite literally one of the most adorable things he has ever seen beside a cute dog video Ned had showed him once. He’s staring at you—wait, sorry, admiring, and you don’t mind it. Sure, your heart is racing like it’s trying to win first place and your palms are beginning to sweat, but it’s fine. He knows that by now, he should break eye contact, but he doesn’t want to. You’re looking insanely beautiful, and he knew that though he had only been around for a short amount of fifteen years, he’d never seen beauty like yours before. 

    He doesn’t think he ever will again. 

    Dude, shut up, he tells himself, wanting slap himself across the face; no, wait—say something, say it out loud. Be cool, be witty, be—



    You chuckle. “Wow, straightforward. I’m still not letting go of that terrible liar thing, just so you know. Okay, so I finished this last problem. Please tell me it’s right, or my brain will melt. Plus, if it isn’t right, my dad will think the two of us haven’t been doing anything important, which isn’t true and…and I’m going to stop talking right now.”

    Peter leans over hesistently and you slouch backwards into the bottom of your couch, breath hitching in your throat. He’s holding your pencil, scanning the problem for any mistakes and he purses his lips. 

    “Well, it looks pretty good. But you kind of messed up here,” he points to what he’s talking about on your paper and you watch carefully as he erases some things. “You forgot to cancel and terminate this—easy mistake, I do it a lot—and it messed everything and you got the wrong solution.”

    “Well, I’m going to fail and I’m going to have to go to summer school,” You lament and you turn around to make sure your parents are still in the kitchen to say, “I don’t know how I even got into an advanced math class.” 

    You wanted to groan. You had numerous AP classes and a high GPA to keep and you could lose them just by your own silly mistakes. You turn your head when Peter places his hand unsurely on your knee, trying to comfort you.

    “No, you got this. You completely got this. I, one hundred percent, believe in you. You’re going to get a great grade on your exam and it’s going to be awesome. We’ve got, like, what? One more study session? That’s all you need to pass this,” Peter begins to ramble, but you smile at him and his heart practically gives out. You bite your lip to hold back another huge grin that’s screaming to be shown as you realize something.


    This is why MJ paired you guys together.

    And you don’t know why, but for some reason your mind can’t think straight and you feel so warm and—and you’re suddenly hyperfixated on the fact that his hand has yet to leave your knee.

    extra note: i’m thinking of writing a part three and four of this, but only if it’s requested enough! thank you for reading. 

    No Regrets

    An Adrienette one-shot

    “Girl, why are you in such a rush?” Alya asked, watching her best friend gather her things in a hurry.

    “I forgot about something!” Marinette fretted, dropping her bag in the process. Which caused all the things she’d gathered to spill out.  “Shoot,” she muttered under her breath, “I’m such a klutz!”

    “Whoa, girl, relax.  What could you have forgotten about that can cause this much panic?  I haven’t seen you this scatter-brained since high school!” Alya astonished, joining Marinette on the ground to help her clean up.

    Marinette sighed, putting the final piece in her bag again and looked at Alya.  They were both knelt down on the floor and Marinette blew a piece of hair from her face.  “I—Well… I’m meeting Adrien.”

    Alya gave her a deadpanned look.  “With whom you’re married to… what’s the big deal about meeting with your husband?” she asked.

    “It’s not the meeting with him part, it’s just—ya know.  We’re looking for a house… and… I dunno,” Marinette dug through her bag for her keys, mumbling something about needing a brighter keychain.  

    Alya looked at the table they had been sitting at to see her friend’s keys lying there.  She picked them up and jingled them in front of Marinette’s distracted face.  “Here,” she said, hearing Marinette utter out a “Thank you.”  Alya crossed her arms and stared curiously at her friend.  “What’s the big deal?  You’re looking for a house.  Something every married couple does… Haven’t you dreamed about this for like, your whole life, or something?” Alya asked.

    Marinette shrugged and looked away from her friend, “Well, I mean, yeah.  But, like, it’s still a little soon, isn’t it?”

    Alya furrowed her brows, “You’ve been married for 3 months.  So no, it’s not ‘too soon.’  Getting a house is good.  You’ve been crashing in his mouse-sized apartment, which, if I do recall, doesn’t allow for a roommate.”

    Marinette bit her fingers, “Yeah, we’ve been ignoring the calls about that…”

    “What’s the real issue here?” Alya asked, reaching out for Marinette’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”

    Marinette slid from her grasp, looking worriedly at her phone.  “Y-you’re probably right!  I’m just crazy.  This is Adrien,” she said as she lifted her phone, “Gotta take it!”

    Alya watched her friend go with a wild expression, “Oh…kay… see ya later, then?”

    Marinette pushed the coffee shop door open with her shoulder, holding her phone in one hand and her drink in the other.  “Hey, hon,” she said, “Yeah, I’m on my way.  No, I didn’t forget, I’m just running a bit late.  Yeah, bad traffic.  Uh huh.  Okay.  Yup, see you in a few.  I love you too.  Bye.”  She hung up and stuffed her phone in her purse, grabbing her keys and hopping into her car.  

    “Alya’s right,” she told herself, “This is good.”


    “Okay, on to house number three!” Adrien said enthusiastically, buckling up his seat-belt.  “That last one was cool, though, huh?  What did you think, Mari?  You were pretty quiet in there…”  He looked over at his wife to see her staring numbly out the window.  “Marinette?”

    She blinked and turned to him, looking dazed, “I’m sorry, I was zoned out.  What?” She asked.

    Adrien frowned, “I asked if you were okay,” he said, reaching out to touch her forehead.  “Are you sick?  Do you have a fever?  Maybe we should go home…”

    “Oh no, I’m not sick,” Marinette brushed him off.  “Tired is all.”

    “You sure?” he asked.

    “Positive,” she smiled at him.

    “Alright.  So, what’d you think of the house?” he asked.

    “It was okay,” she said.  “It’s expensive, though.”

    Adrien shrugged, “Well, money’s not an issue, so don’t pay attention to the price tag, okay?  We’ll get whatever we need and whatever works.”

    Marinette looked at her husband with a clumsy smile, “The money you got from your father is suppose to be for retirement, isn’t it?  That was your plan, right?”

    Adrien looked at her with a gentle smile before looking back at the road, “Plans can change.”

    Anxiety squeezed Marinette’s chest, “You should save it.”

    “Mari, don’t worry.  Even if we went all in and bought the whole house now, I’d still have plenty left over.  Besides, I’m gonna put what we don’t spend in a retirement plan.”  He reached out to touch her knee gently, “Your worried, and it isn’t about the money…”

    “I’m not worried, it’s just an expensive house—“

    “Marinette, what’s wrong?” he came to a stop at a street light.  

    “Nothing,” she said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

    “Come on, Mari, what’s eating at you?” He pushed.

    She nodded towards the windshield of the car, “The light’s green.”

    He huffed, “I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

    “Adrien you can’t—there’s people behind us,” she turned around in her seat to see a frustrated wave from the car behind them followed by a honk.  “Adrien, seriously!  Go!”

    “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.  Normally I wouldn’t push because I don’t need to know sometimes, but this is clearly about us, and that I should know.  So what’s wrong?” He pushed the car into park to prove his point.

    “Adrien, we don’t have time—“

    “Are you having regrets?” he blurted out, his voice calm.  Marinette knew this voice, but she’d never personally experienced it.  It was his business voice.  The voice he used at professional parties, or conversations with co-workers.  It was his father’s voice.

    “…Regrets?” She repeated numbly, looking him in the eye.  The angry honks and yells began to fade out.

    He nodded, “Yeah, regrets.  About us,” his eyes and face stoic; he was like a wall.  But Marinette could see clearly behind it.  He was hurt.

    “N-no!  No, of course not!  I could never regret this,” she gestured between them.  “It’s just…”


    “Will you?” she ask carefully.  Looking away from him.

    “Will I what?” He asked, tilting his head.  His once calm voice became lathered in frustrated confusion.  A car swerved around them, giving them a pleasant curse and honk as he passed, followed by more cars.

    “Will you regret this?” she asked.  He didn’t respond.  “Maybe not now, and maybe not next year or the year after that, but… maybe in ten years.  When I’m older, and less exciting.  Maybe you’ll look back at it all and realize that it was when you decided to marry me that things started to go wrong.  That, in ten years you’ll regret loving me and how you bought a fancy house and used up your money,” she hadn’t noticed until now, but she was crying.  She could tell because a tear had fallen onto her hand.  “After all, you said it yourself!  Plans change, and I don’t want you to regret this—“

    She felt large hands envelop her own small ones.  She didn’t dare look up to see the man who was holding them though.  She couldn’t.  

    “Hey,” he said gently, leaning over to kiss her wet cheek.  “I could never regret this,” he said, but she looked unconvinced, offering him a lazy shrug and a mumbled, “Maybe.”

    “I love you,” he said, baffled.  She didn’t move.  He huffed, thinking of what to say.  “Now, if I remember correctly,” he began, “I had a crush on you first,” he said.

    “You had a crush on Ladybug, not Marinette,” she pointed out.

    “And you had a crush on a model, not Chat Noir,” he countered.  “I agree, things can change.  We changed, but it was for the better, right?”  


    “For better or worse,” he repeated their wedding vows.  “Now, I take that seriously.  Even if there comes a ‘worse,’ I’ll never regret it.  Because I love you.  We chose each other.”  He gently pulled her chin to look her in the eyes.  “The only thing I could ever regret would be not marrying you.  To not share a life with you.  To have kids and grow old with you.”

    She blinked and smiled at him, “Kids?” she asked.

    “Kids,” he nodded, glad she was smiling.  “I’m serious, Mari.  About you.  About this.”

    She leaned in to kiss him.  Soft and sweet, short and simple.  “Thank you,” she mumbled.  

    He kissed her nose and leaned back.  “But,” he said, putting their car back in drive and looking to see the light had turned red again.  “If Nino confesses his love to me, I may just run into the sunset with him,” he said, acting serious.

    “Oh my gosh,” Marinette shoved him with a laugh, “You’re a dork.”

    “But you love me,” he winked at her.

    “Maybe…” she rolled her eyes playfully.

    “And I love you.”

    “Yeah,” she smiled.

    Read the rest of my one shots here!

    The Calm After the Storm

    The lovely @strawberrymilk4 requested: Hello! I’ll like to make a request! So it would be Tom Holland x female reader and they get into a huge argument and the reader leaves and then a few hours pass and Tom gets super worried and texts and call her but she doesn’t answer. And then there’s a storm and she come back like at 3 in the morning all drenched in water and then Tom is freaking out and apologizing and it’s all Fluffy and cute at the end?! Sorry if it’s so specific! But thank you anyways!💗💗”

    Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

    Warnings: Some angsty feelings. 

    Word Count: 1, 668

    Summary: The reader and her long time boyfriend Peter Parker get into a huge fight and stir up quite the storm. (Essentially the request)


    A/N: With the permission of the requester, the request has been changed to Peter Parker because unfortunately I only write for characters so thank you for being so understanding 💕

    Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

    Originally posted by sweaterweatherisbetterweather

    They say there’s a calm before a storm; a moment of peace before a disturbance.

    There has never been anything more false in your literal situation.

    It all happened so fast; you don’t know what came over either of you. One second it’s just another day, and the next you two are blowing up on each other.

    Keep reading

    I was unsure whether to call this a follow forever or a fic rec post, since it is somewhat a combination of both? Shit, I don’t know. But I reached the 3,000 follower milestone today and honestly, I cannot thank all of my readers enough. I know I always say that I write for myself, because I do – but every single one of you helps me to push on and pursue my writing dreams with your wonderful comments, likes and reblogs. There is no feeling greater than seeing your personal opinions on my pieces, no matter if it is a detailed review, or if it is incoherent, caps lock screaming.

    Thank you for supporting me, whether you have been here from the very beginning of my persona journey, or if you have only just discovered me now. I think, throughout all of my blogs, I have never created a follow forever so I believe now is about time that I show some appreciation back to the writing community of the BTS fandom. They never cease to amaze me, and I am absolutely positive they will floor the rest of you whom may have not happened upon some of these incredible writers just yet.

    As a writer, your greatest source of inspiration, support and encouragement can not only come from your readers, but your fellow writers. Thus, this post is dedicated to my favourite writers who have always, without a doubt, left my hands overflowing with infinite inspiration and have left me awestruck, laughing from the pit of my belly, and even in tears at times over their phenomenal works. Feast your eyes!

    Keep reading

    The Tutor // Jughead Jones x Reader

    Originally posted by idontknow-ijustwanttopost

    The Tutor

    Jealous!Jughead x Reader


    A/N: Okay! I really love this one. I am actually proud of it and I just ugh, I just don’t know know! you guys really motivate me and also seeing that you guys write yourself and I get to see what is behind those amazing brains of yours! (yes I do stalk you guys sometimes) I love you! Request are open please request. I need more motivation. ps! almost to 1,000 followers!

    Summary: You and Jughead have been together for along time but when you start to tutor Archie he shows his Jealous side to you.

    Warning: mentions of smut

    Oh, Jughead Jones. He was too protective of you and yet, you will still unconditionally love him. He knows how to please you, knows your spot so he can tease you. You hate it but love it because it makes those nights even more special.

    You have been studying underneath your English teacher. He tutored you in almost every subject in English but not because you needed it. He did because he saw something in you more than the other students. You became so well knowledgeable that you even opened up your own tutor sessions with specific people, mostly girls because every other guy in this school didn’t want to look like they needed help. Until, Archie came around.

    “Hey there, (Y/N/N). Wanna help out a friend?” Archie said as you slowly turned your head while still looking at your math homework.

    “Yes, what it is?” You said while moving your eyes to Archie and seeing him in his full form. He was sweating, probably because he knew you left the library at 4:00 and it was well, 4:00.

    “Yeah, ummm. I need your help… like tutoring?” He said while red crawled up his neck and to his face. He scratched the back of his neck and looked around to see if anyone heard.

    “I’m guessing that you don’t want anyone to know?” You mentioned with a smirk on your face.

    “Yeah, yeah. Just keep it on the low alright.” He grabbed a chair and turned it around to sit on it. “Maybe we could study at your house or mine. You live right next to my house and I thought it might be- be you know quieter.”

    You let out a chuckle and Archie had stood up to shush you quickly. “Alright, Archikins  but on my terms. I get to choose when we break and I’m not a very sympathetic tutor.” You said as you started packing up your things to leave. You start to walk out. “You have no idea what you signed up for” you yelled as you walked out with a hand in the air waving to him.

    “So, you just said yes. Without even asking me?” Jughead said while looking out side at the neon lights that, the Pops sign reflected on the ground.

    “What do you mean by ‘without even asking’. I am my own woman you know.” You said while grabbing and stuffing your face with French fries dipped in your chocolate milkshake. You and Jughead had been “official” for a couple months now and the group only recently calmed down the shipping comments and the questions. But these were the nights you cherished, the nights that it was just you him and no one else.

    “Because (Y/N). Your my girlfriend and I don’t want you to get to close to someone else and then you-”. He cut himself off. He didn’t want to make anything worse then it was. Even though he wasn’t looking at you. He could feel the stare into the back of your skull. He heard a bell jingle and the seat feel empty. He knew that you hated when he acted like you were property.

    //Jughead’s POV\

    She always had a way with words and it was what made me fall in love with her. I was scared that maybe she’d make another fall for her the way I did. But I think messed it all up.

    It was after school and you were in your room getting ready for Archie to come over. You fixed up your bed and laid out all the homework and study stuff. Your door creaked open and you saw the familiar face of Archie Andrews. You smirked as he came in.

    “Are we really working on this all day” he said as he set he stuff down and began to walk over to you.

    “Yes Ginger, we shall unite and figure out your pea sized brain and if it can fit the ethics of English!” You said and Archie looked hilarious. He started to play with all the makeup on your desk.

    //A Couple Days Later\

    You wrapped up your lessons and quickly went home from Archie’s. You were so tired and just wanted to sleep. You checked your calendar before you slept. You have lessons with Archie later tomorrow night. And then you were to spend time with your mom. But god you missed Jughead. His smell just him in general. You missed him so much.  

    You awoke to the smell of breakfast your grabbed your phone and made some room for Jughead before you went downstairs. Your mother had made your breakfast to celebrate the day that my mom found out she was pregnant with you.  It was a tradition to do with your family.

    After I got back from school, you and your mom went out to the movies and spent way to much at the mall. You got a cute skirt and many, many shirts.

    You walked into your room and began taking off your shoes in the dark when the lights came on. “What the?” You said as your eyes adjusted to light you looked and saw a figure standing by the door. “Jughead?” You stammered out while looking at the raven haired boy. “What are you doing here?”

    “I came because I missed my girlfriend. And I needed to talk to her.” He looked at you with his ocean blue eyes and you couldn’t help but melt.

    You stepped closer to him and laid a gentle and passionate kiss on his lips. Not wanting to pull away. He surprisingly lifted you up by your thighs and moved to the window seal. “Jug- my mom” you breathed out in between kisses.

    “I need to make sure that Archie knows who is mine” he moves down to your jawline and slowly to your neck leaving love bites all over.

    You moaned at the pleasure making him go harder at the kisses. He sucked at your pleasure spot. He knew that made you go crazy and you moaned to loud and quickly covered your mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. He defiantly left marks all over you body. And you kinda loved it. He started to remove your top and your bra it was almost off until

    “Hello?” Archie came in and quickly covered his eyes.

    You fell off the window seal on the floor while Jughead quickly covered you with his flannel. You stood up with the flannel covering your body. “Archie… I was just about to text you not to come” you said while your face bright red.

    “Yeah I’m already gone.” He said while he ran out the front door.

    “Well. That mood was ruined.” You chuckled.

    “At least he knows your mine.” Jughead added in.

    //The Next Day\

    You were sitting at Pops with your amazing boyfriend and a scarf around your neck trying to hide the marks he made.

    “You know. I think it’s hot when you show them off.” Jughead whispered into your ear. “God I mean people alway question me about the scratches on my neck.”

    You bit your lip, and squeezed his leg as he started to remove the scarf along your neck, and kissed each mark, making you feel so loved. Then the moment was ruined when B and V came into the Diner.

    “Woah, woah, woah lovebirds. Sorry about ruining your moment.” Veronica said as she slid into the booth in front of us. And she looked at your neck. You tried to hide it but they all awed at the dark marks all over your neck. Until you got a text. And couldn’t stop the red from taking over your face.

    “What is it (Y/N/N)?”

    Regret - Part 1

    Originally posted by grandpa-ty

    Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

    Genre: angst, fluff, slight smut

    Pairing: Johnny x Reader, Taeyong x Reader

    Word Count: 2k

    Summary: *REQUESTED* You find out that your boyfriend has been cheating on you and you leave him. Almost a year later, he realizes that he hasn’t quite gotten over you and he tries to get you back.

    It’s snowing, you thought, as you walked to the restaurant to meet your boyfriend. The snow fell slowly, but surely, coating the sidewalks powdery white. A chill went down your spine. The snow had been unexpected and, this morning, in your haste, you’d forgotten to wear a hat. Drops of snow landed on your head, the cool moisture seeping through to your scalp.

    Keep reading

    When somebody asks me how life is going, I always have the same answers: It’s okay, it’s fine.

    What I really want to say is that my mother’s growing old and I’m scared. The wrinkles that form her face when she frowns have gotten deeper and her finger nails that she used to keep colored a dark shade of red are bare.

    My little sister is learning to become a number at school. She received her first report card with all straight 90’s, but the girl who sits behind her had all straight 95’s. She clearly didn’t try hard enough, she believes.

    My brother just entered high school, but he’s already stressed about what he’s going to do after college.

    My father’s footsteps sound heavier on the wooden stairs of our house when he comes home from work now and his body looks tired.

    My friends go to bed feeling empty and twist and turn in their sheets before they fall asleep from complete exhaustion and wake up restless.

    I operate like a robot and have absolutely no control over time. It seems to be slipping from my fingers like the wind and I can’t trail behind it.

    That is the way it is for most people.
    We live in a constant cycle that repeats every day and the color of our lives becomes duller as we grow.

    One day we’ll wake up being seventy and think, “Where did my life go?”

    It went a little like this:

    When you were born, you were born with curiosity burning in your veins. The sound of it was heard loud and clear when you giggled as a toddler and it slowly became inaudible when you became a teenager. In fact, the fire nearly burned out completely when you reached adulthood.

    But it’s not out yet.
    It doesn’t blow out until your heart stops working.
    As long as your lungs expand and deflate, stardust production continues in your blood.

    You can’t change the past.
    You can’t correct the errors you made or pretend they’ve never occurred.

    You can never find true happiness if you are always looking for it.

    Live now.
    Live in this very minute.
    Damn it, don’t think about what happens next. What happened before.
    If somebody broke your heart, tell them.
    Kiss the hell out of the one that makes you happy.
    Call up that relative you swore you hated but haven’t heard from in a while and ask them how they are.
    Take out that shirt from your closet that you bought because it was pretty and wear it, even if you think it doesn’t look great on you.
    Drink more water in the day even if you don’t feel thirsty.
    Put down your phone and step outside for a few minutes and just breathe.
    Stare at the moon, the stars, the clouds as they drift onwards.
    Watch the sunrise and the sunset by yourself and listen to soft music when you do it.
    Take long showers and touch yourself gently.
    Stop believing that a low grade defines your intelligence and learn to appreciate your hard work when you’ve put it in.
    Make sure to give yourself a break when you need it.
    Hug your friends for a minute longer and remind them that you love them.
    Change your vocabulary from “I can’t” to “I can”.
    Be open to pain and letting go of it.
    Scream at the top of your lungs when the world is sitting on your shoulders.
    Set fire to the dreams you couldn’t achieve and with the ashes form a new path.

    Make your life one that is worth being proud of.
    That you can feel satisfied with once you are taking your last breaths.

    You have always been making choices on your own—It is up to you to make the best ones.