how disgusting it feels

8

*Xuezhang = Upperclassman/senpai

**These characters are from ‘Their Story’

Second year Xuezhang meets first year Qin Xiong aahhh!

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I LOVE MY FAT DISGUSTING PIG-WIFE

I’m Josh, and I love my fat disgusting pig-wife.

I’m a freelance author and lifestyle blogger. My wife is a fatass and tub of lard. I met my wife Charlotte at the county fair when I mistook her for one of the prize hogs and started feeding her corn out of my palm, careful to keep my fingers curled in so that she wouldn’t gnaw off the tips of my fingers. About a full four minutes into feeding her, I realized she wasn’t actually a hog, but was actually a very fat yet somehow sexually attractive woman! We quickly fell in love, even as she never kept her eyes off the corn. We’ve been inseparable ever since, partially because I always have a little bit of corn in my hand and she’s always sniffing and licking it. She’s so cute like that.

I love my fat butterball wife, disgusting curves and all. I love the way she really fills out her sty. For me, there is nothing sexier than this woman right here: thick thighs, big booty, bunch of chocolate sauce in her hair ‘cause she fell asleep in her sundae, contact lenses made of Necco wafers, sometimes eats out of the recycle bin if she’s too tired to get to the fridge. This gorgeous girl I married fills out every inch of her jeans and is still the fattest one in the room. But hey, that’s just me. I’m a feminist, and so is my big-as-a-house revolting wife.

As a teenager, I was teased for being attracted to things that didn’t even look human, like women fatter than a size 4 and big rocks and like those old timey bikes with one big round wheel. Then, as I became a man and started to educate myself on issues such as feminism and farm animals, I realized how many men have bought into the lies of the media. A woman doesn’t have to be tall and thin to be beautiful! A woman doesn’t even have to have a name or personality! She can just be a shapeless blob with no distinguishing marks about her like a pile of condensed milk. That’s how I feel about my gorgeous, disgusting wife Carly. Wait, is that her name, “Carly?” That doesn’t look right. What’s her name? Definitely something with a C. I’d ask her, but her mouth is full right now, as she is eating Thanksgiving dinner in August.

Sure, my wife isn’t going to be on the cover of Cosmopolitan, except when she sits on it because I’ve lined her kennel with issues of Cosmopolitan. Because when she sits around the kennel she sits aroooound the kennel. Which is fine! But Cindy is so kind. Cindy has the biggest heart of anyone I know. Even her heart is plus-sized. And I love it for that. Whether my wife is finding an old bagel tucked underneath her cute side rolls or devouring a whole chocolate fountain even the metal parts before the guy we rented it from comes to take it away, she’s always being true to herself. She’s always just being Claire.

Guys, rethink what society has told you that you should desire. A real woman is not a porn star or a bikini mannequin or a movie character. She’s perfectly unique. She has stretch marks. She has big flat teeth that she uses to bite you if you try to cut when she’s waiting in line for soft serve. She has cute little dimples on her booty that she fills with hard candies and bouillon cubes to keep for later in case she gets hungry at the DMV. The twelve teats that run vertically down her front might not all be the same size. She’s real.

Girls, don’t ever fool yourself by thinking you have to fit a certain mold to be loved and appreciated. There is a guy out there who is going to celebrate your turgid sausage of a body for exactly who you are, someone who will love you just like I love my disgusting wife Chappie. I love you, honey!

dissonance [4]

summary: James apologizes. || hades!bucky x persephone!reader

warnings: none? 

note: Feedback is always appreciated! I hope you guys like this!

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70 Words That Describe How I Feel After Binging

•fat •disgusting •worthless •useless •failure •gross •horrible •nasty •ugly •terrible •repulsive •awful •unpleasant •sickening •monstrous •no-control •angry •depressed •pitiful •repugnant •nauseating •disgust •bitter •anguish •forlorn •resentful •moody •despair •detestable •misery •bleak •wretched •distress •agony •cross •anxious •disappointment •shame •ennui •horror •dissatisfaction •pessimistic •chagrin •malaise •dejection •upset •agitated •ill •unsettled •disheartened •turmoil •loss •unnerved •hurt •discouraged •worked-up •agony •hopeless •bad •miserable •powerless •ashamed •despicable •despair •lousy •embarrassed •woeful •uneasy •inferior •vulnerable

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist linked in bio!


“Y/n, she’s- she’s coming here tonight.”

Once the words stuttered out of his mouth, it was as if Harry’s soul left his body. All the composure he carried within the last three months have suddenly been broken down, completely struck by his words.

He goes stiff, face paling by the second, and his body seems to be immobile. His eyes are wide, in a trance, dazing out into oblivion. She made it clear she never wanted to see him again. She hasn’t even spoken to him since the night he broke up with her. Every attempt Harry made to reach out to her has been ignored, the feeling of being with her only existing in his memory. She was gone, she left him with remorse, and even though he begged, cried, and screamed at her to take him back, she left him alone to fight for himself.

It was clear she gave up on him, that the past two years she spent with him was a waste of her time. She was his only escape, and the way he repaid her was by leaving her. She didn’t deserve that, she didn’t deserve any of it.

So why is she coming here?

As he opens his mouth to speak, he feels the dryness of his mouth preventing him from continuing any further.

“Wh-“ he swallows thickly, eyes heavy and still in tears, “Why is she coming here, Liam?”

His tone is soft, breaking as he speaks.

Liam sighs, hand moving to the back of his neck. He doesn’t know exactly how to respond. He knows no matter what the reason, Harry’s going to be mad that he’s been keeping in touch with Y/n more than he has. And because of the large pit of insecurity that’s barricaded inside of him, he’ll start to doubt his relationship with her, even more than he does so now.

“Me and Y/n,” Liam mutters hesitantly, “we’ve been talking.”

Talking.

All Harry can process is that fucking word. Talking. Something Harry wasn’t able to do with her, yet she was doing with someone else. The way he said it, too, like he was hesitant, like he was hiding something. The look on his face said it all, like he was guilty, like he had done something that would turn the switch to push Harry over the edge.

If Y/n were to start talking to somebody else, Liam would be someone she deserved to be talking to. He’s charming, especially good looking, and has a side to him almost every girl swoons over. He’s delicate, he doesn’t have a bone in his body to commit half the harm Harry has. He can’t find a single ounce in his heart to leave someone he loves, either, which is why every part of Harry’s body boils with a feeling he’s never experienced before.

Jealousy.

Before Liam can continue what he was saying, Harry’s head snaps up, his once tearful eyes altering into a far more sinister gaze, burning through Liam like wildfire. His body is moving faster than his mind can process, his legs nearly tripping over themselves as he aggressively storms toward Liam, teeth clenched and hands curled into fists.

“Har-“

His fists violently slam against his chest, his arms pinning him against the wall in a fit of rage Harry has never felt before. The amount of anger traveling through his body makes his heart pump so much it physically hurts. His veins are popping from under his skin, his jaw clenched so harshly he wouldn’t be shocked if his own teeth crushed.

“What do you mean you’ve been talking to her?!” Harry roared, his forearm pressing harshly against his neck. “If you dared even thought about her in that way for even a second I swear to God, Liam-“

“Harry!” Liam groans, hands clenching against Harry’s wrists, striving to pry away from his mercilessness hold.

“Liam, I will kill you!” Harry sobs.

His body weakens in defeat, his sobs drowning him out of breath. The arms that were once pinning Liam against the wall have slid down right near Liam’s shoulders. His fists are banging against the wall, almost as if trying to rid the pain that has ripped through his heart.

It hurts too much.

How could he possibly live through this? For months, he thought the pain that he had been enduring was the worst it could get. Nothing could break him further than not being with the love of his life. But now, the thought of Liam being with Y/n had hurt him so bad he actually felt physical pain. His whole body hurt, his muscles straining against themselves and his skin burning from the anger unleashing from his insides.

“How could you do this to me?” He cries, “What have I done for you to do this to me?!”

Liam sighs, gripping Harry’s violent hands to prevent him from hurting himself. Harry shakes his head at his touch, his cries becoming louder, attempting to push him away because of how disgusted and betrayed he feels, but Liam isn’t having it.

“Me and Y/n” he speaks sternly, “have been talking about you.”

Harry lets out a small whimper, lifting his head up to finally look at him. His fighting hands are now trembling against Liam’s, breathing harshly from the lack of air he’s gotten from his cries.

“Wh-what?” he croaks.

“You honestly think I’d be talking to her like that?” he whispers, pulling Harry upright so he can stand properly, “First of all, I would never, in a million years, think about doing that to you. And second of all, you must really doubt yourself if you think Y/n’s even close to being over you.”

Harry trips over his own feet before he finds his balance, a sigh of relief escaping him, finally finding his breath.

He still feels upset, however, about Y/n talking to Liam instead of him. He’s spent every day trying to get her to talk to him, but she just pushed away further. He would have taken anything- anything from the sound of her breathing or crying, to her swearing and telling him she can’t do it anymore. Any of it would be better than what he was giving her now. He would have gotten answers that way, but with her silence being the only response to his desperate cries, he started to believe she didn’t love him anymore. Nothing was worse than that.

“She-she isn’t over me?” he breathes out.

Liam shakes his head slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

“Harry, she loves you.. too much. She really doesn’t know how to live without you; you were everything to her. You leaving her, it- it was too much. When you let her go it was as if every purpose she had in her life had left her all at once. She’s a completely different person now, Harry. You have to realize that the woman you see tonight won’t be the same woman you remember her being.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow, eyes trailing down to his hands. He knows he changed her when they were together, but he hadn’t thought much about how she’d change when he left. Of course, he expected her to be heartbroken and upset, but he didn’t expect her to be so different.

He promised himself he’d never hurt her, that he’d never cause her any of the pain he caused others. He couldn’t bare the thought of it- the thought of her being in any sort of pain because of him. Nothing mattered more than keeping her safe and protected and him being the reason why. He felt obligated to make her feel that way. So when Liam tells him Y/n isn’t the same without him, a sudden realization hits him that it didn’t matter that he believed he was protecting her by leaving her, because in the end, she was a hell of a lot more hurt than ever before. Because of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” he whispers.

“She’s back to square one. It’s as if she never met you. She’s back to this extremely damaged, insecure woman who doesn’t show an ounce of strength. When she talks about you, she’s broken. The only reason she doesn’t talk to you is because she’s trying to forget about you.”

Harry’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, the thought of her going back to how she was before. She hated that girl with a passion, despised how weak she was, how little hope she had for herself. She had nothing, quite literally, and she showed just how much her past affected her. She was so insecure, she barely spoke because of the doubt she carried onto herself- convinced others would look down upon her when she put the attention on herself.

What makes his heart shatter is the thought of her trying to rid the memories she’s had with him. To him, he’d sacrifice anything to keep all the beautiful moments he’s shared with her. He wouldn’t mind a lifetime of pain if it meant the two happiest years of his life with her. She’s everything to him, he couldn’t imagine a life without her. And knowing that that’s all she wants makes him feel completely worthless.

No” he whispers, “you didn’t just say that to me. You didn’t.”

Liam rubs his shoulder, looking at him sympathetically. He can’t imagine the pain he’s been going through, especially with all the information he’s feeding him now.

“You have to think about it from her standpoint, though. She’s wrecked, Harry. The thought of you, to her, is remembering every part of her life she feels she can’t get back. You couldn’t expect her to be okay, you know, she’s in love with you.”

He nods slowly, swallowing harshly as he grips tightly onto Liam’s hand.

He doesn’t know if he can fix what he’s broken. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get the love of his life back. All he knows is that Y/n’s coming back to him, at this lakehouse, and he doesn’t want to fuck it up more than he already has.

“Help me, please” he mutters, eyes looking up at him in pure desperation.

Liam smiles, his free hand reaching to pat his shoulder softly.

“She’s coming here, for you, isn’t she? So go, take a shower and look presentable. You smell like shit.”


When Y/n arrives at the lake house, it’s as if every memory she had with Harry flashes before her eyes. She never imagined being here without Harry by her side. It’s a weird feeling, honestly, to be in the place she was positive her and Harry would get married, while they are almost complete strangers to one another.

She sucks in a harsh breath, eyes gazing upon the house. It’s just as beautiful as she remembered, but it feels different. Normally, upon arrival, she envisioned a new adventure with Harry, days filled with complete bliss and utter loving engagement. She always had a smile on her face, her heart growing on the road trip there.

But now, after everything that’s happened, she doesn’t know how to feel. She doesn’t even know what to expect. All she knows is the pain she feels in her chest and the burning she feels in her eyes every other second she spends looking at this goddamn house.

She never thought she’d end up here, actually. She didn’t want to, at least not at first. When Liam asked her to join them for Harry’s birthday, she immediately backed down, finding any excuse she possibly could to avoid any confrontation with him. But when Liam started to tell her everything about Harry’s past couple of months without her, she couldn’t keep damaging him.

A part of her believed he deserved her silence, but another part of her believed that it wasn’t fair to him, either. She loved him too much to keep doing this to him, so she conquered her fear and decided to do the one thing Harry should be doing instead.

Fighting. For them.

In the midst of her thoughts, a sudden call of her name drags her out from them.

“Y/n!” the boys welcome her, all rushing to greet her with a hug.

She gasps from the unexpected tackle the boys give her, adjusting her body against their holds as she tries, but fails, to hug them all back.

“Hi” she smiles, cheeks flushing from the sudden amount of attention, “it’s good to see you guys again.”

The boys’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, lightly laughing at her change in demeanor. She seems out of place, lost somehow. He can tell she’s doubting her arrival, but she knows them. She’s been a part of them for years, there’s no way he’s going to let her break up with Harry affect their friendship with her so negatively.

“What’s with the proper greeting, Y/n? C’mon, it’s us!” Niall laughs, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to loosen her up.

Y/n lets out a slight giggle, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. She lets out a small breath, swallowing harshly before nodding her head.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry, just a bit nervous is all” she mutters.

The boys nod at her knowingly, smiling softly at her and they begin to guide her inside the house. They make small talk while she settles in the house, asking her about how she’s been, how she’s been, and how she’s been spending her time during her departure. She answers willingly, discussing her new job and the small apartment she started living in. It wasn’t half of what her and Harry shared, but it was cozy and thought it was perfect for one person.

Zayn insists on having Y/n unpack in a room and give her some privacy. The rest of the boys agree, settling in the living room to set up the poker game they planned on playing earlier. While doing so, Zayn and Y/n are left alone in the kitchen.

She feels her heart pounding out of her chest at the mere thought of seeing Harry. So much time has passed and so much could change, their once unbreakable bond seizing to nonexistence. She doesn’t know how he feels about her anymore, but she hopes deeply he still loves her just as much as she still loves him. Even after he left her.

“Where is he?” she whispers, the side of her index finger in between her teeth.

“He’s upstairs showering. He took Niall’s room, pretty sure none of them will care which room you take. Just make yourself comfortable.” Zayn smiles.

Comfortable, she thought. Yeah right.

Making her first step in the bedroom her and Harry would normally stay in gave her an overwhelming feeling of comfort. It’s the closest she felt to him in a while, being in the bedroom where their relationship peaked. Every square inch of her new apartment feels nothing like home, no traces of Harry’s existence inside it. She felt uneasy in her house, alone and cold with every step she took. It was quiet, it was boring, no history behind it.

This room, though, at every sight she took their was a story, a memory to permanently set itself inside the four walls. It hurts her to know the legacy of this room may never continue on, but she feels at home here. In the first time in months, she’s comfortable. She’s sane, because this is the closest she’s been to Harry since the breakup, and it feels euphoric.

She closes the door softly behind her, locking the door, because the thought of an unexpected entrance of Harry fills her with anxiety. She isn’t ready to face him yet, she doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to admit her feelings and stand her ground. But she questions if she ever really will be ready for it.

She sets her bag down on the bed, propping her hands up from the mattress, taking deep breaths to try and calm herself down. She squeezes her eyes shut, an unwanted wave of tears making their way to the surface. She lets out a small whimper, thinking back to all her favorite memories with him.

Why does she have to think about it so much?


“Harry, we’re back!” Y/n squealed, clapping her hands together as her feet lifted off the ground in pure excitement.

It was their first year anniversary. Harry kept telling her all day he had an amazing surprise planned out for her. She didn’t expect to end up here. She expected a temporary hotel, or maybe a place that provided a spa, since Harry said the drive to the lake house wouldn’t be a good idea since Louis’ family would be staying there for the weekend. Of course, he lied. If he didn’t, the sight before him wouldn’t have been as priceless as it was then.

Harry giggled, admiring the cutest sight he’s ever seen. Her eyes gleamed, the smile painted on her beautiful face enough to satisfy him for the rest of his life. He felt his happiest when watching Y/n at her exciting moments. The look she had made his heart flutter, because it was him that made her feel that way.

“You really thought I wouldn’t take you here?” He chuckled, hugging her from behind and planting a soft kiss in the crook of her neck. “This is our place.”

Y/n sighed contently, turning her body around so that she can kiss him. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, scraping the nape of it. His hand wandered to her back, rubbing her t-shirt covered skin.

“You’re a sneaky little one, aren’t you?” She smirked against his lips.

He laughed, eyes staring captivatingly into hers.

“That’s the point of a surprise, isn’t it, love?”


The sound of someone knocking on the door snaps Y/n out of her daydream. Expecting it to be Zayn checking up on her, she slowly makes her way to the door. Before she has a chance to fully make it, the voice she hasn’t heard in months calls from the other side of the doorway.

“Y/n, please.” Harry pounds harder on the door again, “Please let me in.”

Y/n steps slightly away from the door the second she’s aware it’s Harry. Her breathing slows into such quietness she can barely breathe. She doesn’t move, a bit of her hoping that if she doesn’t respond to him, he’d leave.

She wants to see him, she does, but she just can’t. Being broken up with him is easier without the constant reminder that he’s not in her life anymore. Seeing him would just be a slap in the face for her, a punch in the gut to remind her just how much she’s lost.

Harry groans, kicking the bottom of the door. He sighs, placing his forehead against the door as he slowly jiggles the knob between his fingers, just hoping she’d have any chance of letting him in.

“Baby,” his voice cracks as he whispers, “Baby, please. I don’t know how much longer I can go without seeing you.“

He knows she’s there. He can hear her shallow breathing through the door, and hell, even hearing her breathe is making him feel relieved. He didn’t know how long he’d go without hearing it.

Y/n blinks away her tears, folding her arms across her chest, because she feels so weak when it comes to him, but she has to stand her ground. He can’t just leave her brokenhearted and expect her to give into him. Not without letting him know just how much he’s destroyed her.

“That’s your own fault, Harry.” She croaks out.

Her voice makes his head snap up toward the door. The sound of her voice, God, how much it means to him. He thought he’d never hear it again. Even if it’s rough, even if her tone is harsh, at least she’s speaking to him. He’s no longer being haunted by an empty void and constant reminder that she’s not in his life anymore.

“No, I know but- but I never thought I’d never see you again.” he whimpers, “I haven’t even heard your voice. I’m going crazy here. I’ve been putting up the biggest fight of my life. I need you, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

Y/n’s face twists in anger once he finishes. How dare he say that to her? How dare he make this entirely about himself. He’s going crazy? He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this? He was the one who broke things off. She fought for him, she’s been fighting for him for so long and he was the one who kept pushing her away. Him not seeing her? Him going crazy? That’s his fault. This is all his fault.

In her sudden fit of anger, Y/n storms up to the door, punching it with the two sides of her fists.

“You let me go, Harry!” She screams.

Harry visibly flinches at her sudden outburst, his body nearly flinging itself off the door.

"I did everything for you! I was there for you when you had nobody else, I was by your side while everybody else gave up on you! I was the only person on this earth who still had hope for you! And what did you do? You proved me wrong.”

Harry thrashes his head side to side, eyes squeezing shut as he hears her venomous words. His hands tug harder on the doorknob, fighting with everything he has just to fucking look at her.

“C’mon, Y/n! C’mon!” Harry growls through clenched teeth, attempting to kick the door down.

"I spent two years of my life with you because I loved you, and you let me go.” She whispers the last part, her forehead pressing gently against the door.

His breathing is harsh, face dampened with tears as his fingers graze the part of the door he knows she’s leaning on. This is the closest he’s been to her in three months, he’s getting more mental by the second. He’s hasn’t felt her so close in so long, he’ll stop at nothing to get closer. Not even this goddamn door can stop him.

“Y/n” he whispers, “open this door or so help me God, I will kick it down myself.”

She lifts her hand hesitantly to the knob, contemplating whether to completely ignore his request or risk breaking down everything she’s built since the breakup. She’s close to walking away, but she doesn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if she decides not to see him again. She’s barely survived the past three months without him, she can’t bare to think about how emotional she’d become if she wasted another minute of her life without her beside him.

Her shaking fingers slowly turn the lock. She barely has time to even consider going back on her decision before Harry emerges from the other side, feverishly slamming the door and locking it again, preventing anybody on invading their privacy.

He turns around to face her in a hasting manner, hair disheveled, dampened with little drops of water dripping from the ends. His sweatpants and t-shirt worn sloppily on his body, as if in a hurry to put his outfit on.

When he sees her, he swears every part of him ignites. He’s breathless, seeing her stand in the middle of their favorite room, looking as nervous as ever, but just as beautiful as he remembers. It’s as if his heart mends at the sight of her, like she’s the cure for all the pain he’s been suffering through.

He’s never felt more alive in his life while he looks at her in this moment.

She keeps her head down, hiding her tears, refusing to let her eyes meet his. The second she looks at him, she’ll be a goner. She’ll mold back into him so easily there wouldn’t be any trace of a hesitation. She’ll conform back into his life as if she never left, but she refuses to do that now. She needs to realize the damage he’s done. Letting her go was the worst decision of his life.

“Y/n” Harry whispers, “please look at me.”

She lets out a grated cry, her hand reaching up to her chest. She shakes her head, lungs collapsing as she attempts to breathe past her sobs.

She’s never felt so hurt before. How can she look at her love, that broke her heart, and be expected to be okay? How is any of that possible?

“I- I can’t, Harry.” She sobs, shaking her head.

Harry takes a couple steps closer to her. Her body is shaking, her eyes looking at anywhere but him.

It hurts him more than she thinks. He feels crushed and helpless as she continues to ignore him. He just wants nothing more than for him to be heard and to be seen by her, and she’s just not giving it to him, and he feels like he’s dying.

“Why?” he whispers, his hand reaching out to graze her shoulder.

“Please talk to me, why can’t you look at me?!” He cries out, frustrated tears tracing down his face.

“Because when I look at you, all I can think about is loving you!” she sobs, her voice raising as her eyes, finally, look up to stare at his. “And I don’t want to love you anymore, Harry, I don’t! You ruined me! You fought against everything in your life. You fought everything and everyone and yet you didn’t fight for us!”

It feels as if the wind has been knocked right out of Harry, his chest tightening as he listens to her confess everything she’s been feeling within the past three months.

He never thought about it that way- not fighting for her. He was trying to fight for her for so long, but he couldn’t find the strength to change. When he left her, he didn’t mean it as him not fighting for their relationship, he meant is as a way to protect her from him- to protect her from the danger he’s been bringing into her life.

He continues to cry. Soul-shaking, heavy cries as she pushes his hand off of her.

“I want to hate you so bad, Harry” she whimpers, eyes closing as silent tears run along her face.

“But when I look at you all I can think about is holding you and touching you and kissing you and all I can think about is doing everything you don’t want me to do.”

Harry looks at her like he’s watching his whole world crumble. He’s confused, extremely heartbroken that she genuinely believes he didn’t want any of that. That’s all he thought about. Living without those hands roaming his body, living without her lips against hers, living without her arms wrapped around him was enough to kill him. He just felt so empty.

“You really think I don’t want any of that?” he whispers, his fingers reaching up to rub her cheek.

She rubs her cheek along his fingers, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. Even the slightest bit of it is enough to send chills down her spine.

“I don’t know” she mumbles, “I don’t know anything about us anymore.”

He sighs, hands making their way around her waist before pulling her against him. She cries softly in his chest, her fingers tugging softly at the hem of his shirt. He rocks her back and forth, his own tears falling on top of her head but she shows no sign of caring.

“I never stopped loving you, you know” he whispers, lips speaking against her shoulder, “I don’t know how I did all that I did without you. I promise you, I’m not the man I was. I don’t hurt people anymore, I’m not who I was, I swear. I fought for us when I let you go. I had to prove myself wrong to convince myself we could be right for each other.”

She shakes her head, pushing his body away from hers.

“So that’s it? You had to convince yourself we were right for each other? So through our entire two years you just- you just thought we were wrong for each other?” she snaps.

Harry begins to panic, everything rushing to him all at one time, he feels like he can hardly breathe.

“No, baby, what are you-”

“How could you say that to me, Harry?” she whispers, eyes looking desperately into his, “how could you dare stand there and say that to me?”

He desperately reaches for her hand, bringing it up to his lips as he’s on the verge of genuinely begging her to understand him.

He’s never seen her so hurt.

“I know me and you are meant for each other. I- I never laid hands on someone else the way I laid my hands on you. You pushed me through everything, you stuck by me through all my faults and you still loved me, Y/n. Even though I know there were times you wanted to despise me, you continued to love me. And even now, I’m standing here, probably looking like the biggest fool because the man who used to not give a shit about others is drowning in his own tears over a girl but I don’t care. Because my life is nothing without you, my existence is nothing without you by my side. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to convince you that I never meant a single word of what I said to you when I left.”

She looks up at him in admiration, her hands harshly holding his face. She’s speechless, soft breaths struggling to escape her as she tries for form a coherent sentence.

“You will always be my plus one, baby. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Before he can say anything else, she feverishly pushes his lips toward her. Her body ignites in pure euphoria, the feeling of his lips against hers reviving every part of her that died when he left.

She moans in the kiss, pushing his body down against the bed. His hands graze her back, lost in complete oblivion as her lips work magnetically against hers.

There’s no point in fighting this anymore, she didn’t want to spend another second without him. She knew they wouldn’t be apart forever, but she didn’t know how easy it would be to fall back into his arms. It was as if the anger burning inside her was no match for the overwhelming desire to have him back in her life, as if her broken heart didn’t give a shit about its angered undertone.

And with his lips against hers, with her name breathlessly leaving his lips like she’s never heard it before, the past meant absolutely fucking nothing to them.

“Don’t leave.” Harry heaves between kisses, his fingers digging into her waist, sure to leave marks.

God, how fucking heavenly is this, she thinks.

“Not leaving.” She whispers back, sloppily detaching herself from him to take off the unwanted t-shirt that was to his body.

She presses her lips against his chest, kissing down from his neck to the valley in between his chest. Her hands grip his, squeezing them as she kisses down to his naval.

“No,” Harry groans, the feeling of her touch making it hard for him to concentrate, “you’re not understandin’ me, baby. Don’t leave.

Her lips come to a halt, her eyes traveling up his body until they meet his. She rests her chin against his abdomen, confused wrinkles forming between her eyebrows. He’s panting, eyes dark as he looks down at her. But he’s smirking, slightly, reaching his hand up to slide it down her hair. 

“How much of a fool would I be if I get the love of my life back and not ask her to move in with me?” 

Y/n chuckles, placing her forehead against his abdomen as she laughs.

“We already have a house together, y’know, I think we both knew I’d come back and-”

Here” Harry interrupts her, “ask you to move in with me here.”

Y/n’s mouth drops, at a complete loss of words after hearing the question Harry planned on asking her for far too long now. 

She loves this house, she does, with a passion, but she never thought Harry would live with her here. Sure, it is the house they feel most comfortable in, and it is the house that feels most like home to them, but this is under the Tomlinson name. How can this place be theirs?

She stutters out, not processing what exactly had just happened. 

“Wh-what?”

“Oh c’mon” Harry sighs, “you never thought about this? You can’t tell me you can’t see us being married with our little kids roaming around in here, can you?”

Y/n lets out a soft cry, the words falling from his mouth making their way to her beating heart. She smiles up at him, giggling before crawling so that she’s on top of him. He laughs at her, heart swelling at the look on her face. She leans down to kiss him again, lips meshing together in pure bliss.

“I can see all of that” she sighs out in contentment, “I love you so much, Harry. I’d never leave.”

He smiles again before giving her a quick peck to her lips.

She lifts her hand to tangle her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly at the roots.

“Happy birthday, my sweet love of mine.”

hello friends!!

This list is more so about things that I didn’t realize I needed for college, and what I realized I didn’t need once I was already at college, rather than a wholistic list of what you’re going to need. If you google your generic “college essentials” list, they more or less are truly what you’re going to need. I’m simply trying to share my experience after my first year of college. here we go kids

Things you might not have thought of:

wedge pillow/husband pillow: you know when you wanna do work in bed and sit up against the wall, and you try and use your pillows for back support but you can never get them in a comfortable position???? yeah. fear not!! there are wedge pillows and/or husband pillows for this!!! personally, I didn’t realize how much work I would do in bed prior to college. If you’re someone who does this, I HIGHLY recommend getting one of these pillows. it’ll just make your life a lot easier.

clipboard: you know when you wanna do work in bed, but when you’re trying to take notes and be studious your notebook is too floppy and it’s an immense struggle to take notes???? yeah. GET YOU A CLIPBOARD. my god. you could also get a lap desk thing, but tbh a clipboard should suffice.

clip-on lamp: if you’re like me, you might hate artificial lighting and hate having all of the lights on. you might prefer a nice lil lamp. every college list tells you to get a desk lamp. BUT YOU SHOULD GET A CLIP ON LAMP. as i’ve said twice now, i love doing work in bed. but sometimes it just gets dark!! and while your lamp lights up the room well enough, you might strain to see what you’re reading and/or writing. so, get a clip on lamp!! you can clip it literally anywhere it can clamp on to. so much freedom. so beautiful. 10/10 would recommend.

a robe: i went into college thinking i could just wrap myself in a towel and flee to my dorm from the bathroom. However, you’re gonna dry your hair, and then your body. and then you’ll go on your journey to your dorm. but, you’re hair is still gonna be wet, and then get you wet, and get the floor wet, and it’s just not a good time. (also sorry for the comma splices rn lmao) please make your life easier and get yourself a robe. then you can wrap the towel around your hair and keep it dry, while not having to run to your dorm hoping that your towel doesn’t fall! it’s a good time.

stand up hamper: i got a laundry bag and thought that would be a fun way to store my gross clothing. false information my friends. you know when you’re trying to put something in a bag, but the bag just keeps closing on it’s own bc of gravity, and then you’re trying to open the bag with the object you’re trying to put IN the bag–you know what i’m talking about. that’s what will happen with a laundry bag for a hamper. just get a stand up one friends.

NAPKINS: it’s the things that you always have around that you don’t realize you need. just have napkins. too many reasons to explain why they’re necessary.

a step stool!!!: this is college. your bed is going to be high up. that’s just how it is. you CAN rely on the lil ladder to get onto your bed, but that’s always a bit of an awkward climb. i highly recommend a step stool. it helped my tiny lil self out every single day.

mattress pad: this one isn’t necessary. I didn’t have one when I first got to college. but then my mom forced one upon me, and it honestly changed my whole life. do it. you don’t need a full on foam top mattress (unless you want one that’s cool too), but anything helps. college beds feel like dried up sponges.
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Things you probably don’t need

clothes: no matter what, you are not going to have the amount of clothes that you need your first year of college. you will either over pack or under pack. there is absolutely no in between. try not to bring too many clothes. you will truly thank yourself.

extra storage bins: if you think you might need extra storage bins to put all of your stuff in, then you’re bringing too much stuff to your dorm. trust me. the storage that your school provides will be enough. don’t bring too much to school. you’ll have many breakdowns where you get so overwhelmed by all of the unnecessary crap that you own. i know i did

too many pillows: y’all, this is college. no one has time for five decorative pillows. the bed is just big enough to fit one human being. don’t bring all of those pillows. you will have no where to put them. your dorm will be cute without the pillows.

shower shoes??????: idk. this, in my opinion, is optional. i feel like everyone stresses how disgusting college showers are and how if you don’t have shower shoes you’re bound to get foot fungus. i personally think this is exaggerated and emphasized by germaphobes. shower shoes are a nice precaution, but your showers aren’t going to be completely horrible. However, I go to a tiny liberal arts school, and shared a bathroom with 4 other girls. If you’re going to a larger school with community bathrooms, then please disregard this suggestion. protect ur toes.

i hope this helps some people out!! freshman year of college is going to be a great learning experience!!!!!

All these folks mad about AoS “ruining” Fitz in the framework and having him be abused and corrupted by his father and not being a “good victim” and turning out good anyway, and I, a Stand With Ward-er, just lookin at them like

Originally posted by nbcthevoice

anonymous asked:

Hi!! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! If you're still taking prompts could you write some an analogical fic, maybe where Logan is pining or decides that *logically* they'd make the perfect couple and decides to use logic to persuade Virgil he's right? No worries if it's not your thing tho <3

Logan sat at his desk, hands in his hair and frustration on his face.  He couldn’t even close his eyes without seeing his face.  That cute little smile, the way he covered it when he laughed, the way he chewed on his hoodie sleeve-

“Ughhhh!” Logan groaned and threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them fervently.  This had to stop!  He had no time to deal with mushy, disgusting, lovey-dovey feelings!  No matter how much Virgil made him want to deal with them.  Gah, this was so not fair!

True, logically speaking, if any of the sides were to be together, it made sense that it would be the two of them, right?  Virgil was very fond of pointing out issues and questions that Logan easily answered and solved.  Logan also kept Virgil grounded, kept him calmer and happier.  Happier enough to see that cute smile - OK ENOUGH!  

The two of them together would most certainly benefit Thomas, Logan believed.  After all, his anxiety working through issues with his logical side makes sense, and the more time the two spend together the less anxious - oh, who was Logan kidding.  Certainly not himself.  When this dumb crush, this infatuation, begun to grow, he was not thinking of Thomas’s health!  Why throw him into this awful mix?!  Logan groaned and dropped his head down, banging it gently on the desk.  He had to get rid of these feelings, restore his sanity and get some peace.  He had to tell Virgil, that was the only way.  With renewed vigor and some excitement in his step, Logan shot up out of his seat and propelled himself toward the door - 

Wait.  What if Virgil didn’t reciprocate?  Or worse, what if Virgil thought he wasn’t serious?  After all, as the embodiment of Thomas’s worry and anxiety, Virgil had a very difficult time with trust.  Many times when one of them tried to be nice and give kind words, Virgil immediately defaulted to “you’re just saying that,” or “don’t lie to me; I know you hate me.”  Logan wasn’t sure at this moment if he could handle hearing that come out of his crush’s mouth.

And, just like that, Logan backpedaled all the way to his bed and flopped down face first.  This was impossible to deal with!  Why him?!  Then, an idea popped in his head.  He could write a letter, a stone-hard, cold and concrete letter of his seriousness.  

Logan snatched up a memo pad from his desk along with a pen.  Twelve cited sources, four Teen Vogue quizzes, and 16 points later, Logan had his essay, properly MLA formatted and ready to send under Virgil’s door.  He produced an envelope and neatly tri-folded the pages, tucking them in.  Logan didn’t lick the envelope closed, finding that utterly disgusting.  Instead he simply tucked the opening inside.

Quick as a flash, Logan darted out his door, down the hall, and threw the letter essay under Virgil’s door.

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Thank you to Brunie ELF, USA ELF, Russian ELF, Romanian ELF, Uruguayan ELF, Panamanian ELF, ELFshy Brazil, Arab ELF, Malaysia ELF, Latin America & Spanish ELF (Hato Fanclub), LIVSM , Turkish ELF, Noti-ELF Latin America, Latin American ELF (iELFie), Spanish ELF, Singapore ELF, Philiphine ELF, Arab ELF, Chinese ELF, Thailand ELF, Indian ELF, Morocco ELF and Algerian ELF for supporting all of Super Junior. You can read their statements here: X

straight/cis person: oh so you’re gay and trans?

me: yes

straight/cis person: can i ask u stuff.. about it?

me: yes

straight/cis person, immediately: so how does it feel being a freak? what kind of freak things do you do with your freak-against-nature body? how does it feel being unnaturally freakish and disgusting? haha. hope i dont offend : ) im just an ol’ straightie

Sick - Request

Requested by @buckybarnesaddicted:  Hey can I have a request ? 😄 I have a cold at the moment and feel like reading a one shot where “Sherlock is taking care of you when you’re ill ” if you attached any gifs it would be awesome !!!

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 2,763

Warnings: None.

A/N: Ugh, I need this right now but in real life. Also, I suck at adding gifs, my apologies.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by caratomi

Have you ever gone underwater and tried to listen to the conversation being held on the surface? Well, that was how (Y/N) heard everyone that day. Distant, confusing, overwhelming.

Have you ever smelled something so disgusting you instantly feel like fainting? That’s how (Y/N) felt that day, even if there was nothing to be smelled because her nose was blocked.

Have you ever been hung over and trying to act normal? Go to work, talk to people, even going outside to the sunlight. It’s annoying, like a hammer hitting ones skull every time a noise can be heard, and the sunlight feels like burning one’s eye orbs and just the thought of living feels like a nightmare.

Have you ever been so tired you feel like you can’t move? That was (Y/N). It was almost as the invisible elephants had tied invisible weights to her limbs just so it was harder for her to move. Or even more logically, like a prisoner who gets to carry the black berry around for a whole day.

But she coped with it. She followed John all over London, making questions, doing research, chasing after people and stopping to have something to eat in between all of that. She did it without complaining, only because it had to be done.

To be a Doctor, John was very distracted – or too much into his job – to notice she was sick. Maybe because in London the weather usually gets healthy people to have red noses – without mentioning the massive amount of makeup (Y/N) had tried to avoid looking like a character from Zombie Land – or maybe because (Y/N) wasn’t complaining, but either way, John had no idea she was sick.

Eventually, their work finished with a black eye on John and a few dollars less from (Y/N)’s bag. The two friends said their good-byes and went to their own ways. John returned home to his wife, and (Y/N) went back to Baker Street to give Sherlock the information they had gotten.

“You look terrible.” Sherlock commented without looking up from the files on his hands.

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“Well that’s disgusting,
I feel bad for that poor kid”

“How are we supposed to protect our baby from hate?”

I try not to get too involved in the fandom drama too often these days since it’s usually wasted effort but seeing this latest round of attacks on Zayn, I couldn’t keep quiet. This hits too close to home for me.

As just a handful of you know, I lost my dad just under three weeks ago to complications from lung cancer. Much like the person Zayn is helping by tweeting out her GoFundMe page, our family was blind-sided by a Stage Four diagnosis when my dad was admitted to the hospital for what seemed an unrelated matter. We were stunned and devastated to be suddenly faced with the inevitability of his demise that came much quicker than we anticipated.

I’m not fifteen. I can’t even imagine how terrified that woman’s daughter must be at the thought of losing the most important person in her life at such a crucial time (not that it’s ever easy to lose a parent). Luckily, they seem to have a good support system that includes the Malik family. 

No one knows to what extent they have already contributed to her cause but guess what? It doesn’t matter because I’m sure it’s happened in more ways than just financial. 

Cancer treatments are notoriously expensive and this woman’s last resort might be an experimental treatment in another country. Even though I’m sure Zayn has helped (because that’s the type of person he has proven to be) he has a huge online presence that could benefit her immensely. She has also promised that any outstanding monies will go to other patients to aid in their care in the case that the treatment fails to work.

The fact that many of you chose to use this as an occasion to belittle Zayn for his effort when you heap praise on OT4 for literally the exact same thing is disgusting beyond belief. How can you feel good about taking something pure and pissing all over it, effectively taking attention away from the person in need? Clearly you value your bullying time more and that is reprehensible in ways I cannot begin to articulate.

Why does it matter that it’s his mom’s friend?? Why should that disqualify her from getting our attention? Have you even considered that perhaps she doesn’t want to get everything she needs from them? Would you be okay with your best friend and her family paying every last cent for this treatment out of their own pocket? Have you even for a moment stopped to think about the person at the center of this issue? I think we all know the answer to that.

You certainly don’t need to give a single cent. It’s not mandatory in case you forgot. It’s pretty clear you don’t give a rat’s ass about Ayesha and her daughter. If you for a minute stopped to think about how this is going to affect her perhaps you would’ve thought twice before giving your worthless opinion.

Can you imagine how they’re going to feel when they hear that their friend’s son is getting trashed for trying to help her out? Do you even care that you’re adding negativity to an already unbelievably stressful and frightening time? It doesn’t seem like you do. The only thing that matters to petty mean girls like you is having another go at Zayn, right?

As someone who was just in Ayesha’s family’s shoes, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it:  GO FUCK YOURSELVES.

Special Instructions (1/?)

Summary: Drunk Emma really likes pizza. She also really happens to like the cute delivery guy who seems content to carry out all of her wishes via the “Special Instructions” box on the website.  (AO3)
Rating: M (eventually)
Word Count: ~1700

This has been burning a hole on my desktop for a couple months now and I just really felt like if I didn’t start posting it would probably never get finished… I’m a couple chapters in with the writing but I think this is going to end up being like between 10 and 15 chapters, all roughly the same length if I can pull it. We’ll see how that goes. Anyway, this was gonna just be like a cheesy smut fic originally but I apparently like to overthink things and it became slightly cuter of an idea…

@stubble-sandwich THANKS FOR LETTING ME GUSH ABOUT THIS STUPID IDEA WITH YOU. Look at me, finally posting the fuckin pizza guy au… christ…

Special instructions: pls make smiley face with pepperoni, i could use something happy right now

She’d typically have left the box blank but Emma was currently full of self-pity and a little too drunk to really care how she appeared to the rest of the world.

Two years she’d spent with Walsh. Two years of warm embraces and whispered I love you’s and sweet kisses and integrating him into her close-knit group of friends despite some heavy resistance – especially from David; she reminded herself to give her brother a hug later for trying – and for what? 

For him to just “reconnect” with his ex at what was supposed to be their engagement party?

“I’m so sorry, Em. I never meant to hurt you like this. It just… happened. I can’t help how I feel.”

She scoffed in disgust. What an asshole. A total prick.

She finished off her fifth – sixth? – bottle of beer and popped open another. Maybe after another few she’d forget the sight of him with his tongue down that other woman’s throat. Maybe she’d forget the shock and guilt on his face when she’d dropped her glass of champagne at seeing them together, stunned to see her betrothed blatantly cheating on her by the bathrooms while their party guests mulled about in the main room, completely clueless.

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