i am going to drink so many cups

Ready for a long ace-centric metaphor about sex? 

Alright, so. Coffee. I don’t drink coffee. I have no desire to drink coffee. I find people who enthusiastically go on about the flavor differences of lattes, espressos, and french press brews, both amusing and mildly baffling. All the coffee ads. Coffee jokes. Bustling coffee shops. To me, all coffee is similarly bitter and unpleasant. I have been through so many “Try this, it’s sweet! You can’t even taste the coffee!”  Alas, I always can. And I’m  sensitive to caffeine anyway. So, I don’t really think about drinking it when I wake up or am tired.

 Yet I love the smell of coffee. I love the idea of coffee. The feeling of a warm cup taking the chill from my fingers, the cozy ritual of having a drink and chat. I might try someone’s coffee. If they ask, if I want to please them and share in something they enjoy. I am also perfectly capable of learning the preferences of those I care about and creating a cup for their pleasure. 

But I don’t want coffee, generally speaking. I will probably make a face after trying their coffee and wash the taste out with something else. They may rush to reassure me that it is an acquired taste. And I’ll have to reply that it’s a taste I don’t particularly care about acquiring in the way they did. ‘Drink it till you like it’ will never work for me.

 But that doesn’t mean I am against coffee or think people shouldn’t drink it. Doesn’t mean I’ve taken a vow to never drink any. And sure, maybe if you get one of those sugar and whipped cream disasters, more of a warm milkshake than a cup of coffee, I’ll probably be happier sipping it with you. But honestly? I’d rather smell someone else’s coffee and not be expected to drink it. I’d really rather have the heat and sweetness of my hot cocoa. 

Tips For Improving Sleep Hygiene!

We all know that nutrition and fitness are tall, tall pillars of wellness, but both of those are exponentially more difficult without the linchpin–sleep. It goes like this. First, you sleep like absolute donkey turds. Next, If you’ve managed to get to the gym you’re more likely to underperform or you may just succumb to skipping it entirely! Then, you’re more prone to food cravings and your hunger-satiety cues aren’t coming across as clearly. Your irritableness and fatigue make comfort eating seem that more appealing that day. You wonder, “Can you replace sleep with food?” Only very temporarily, and then you’ll be stuck in that loop until you get some shut eye.

We’re all sleeping fewer hours it seems, and there’s reason to believe it plays a crucial role in maintaining an overall healthy lifestyle. Many mental and physical aspects of the body take a hit when we’re running on empty. That’s why sleep is so important! So–here’s a list of some lifestyle adjustments that can make falling asleep a little easier.

Limit What You Do in Your Room: This can be difficult depending on your living arrangements, but the more you can limit your room to just sleeping and being intimate, the more you’ll be able to relax and wind down. Your brain gets the message! If you’re living in a dorm, try to spend wakeful hours in the common areas or at the library. If you’re in a less than ideal home situation and your room is your only haven, try to find activities to keep you out of the house more often. I used to go to the public library and just chill!

Ditch the Phone: Look. I get it. You tell yourself “what if there’s an emergency?” and I totally understand you’d want to be there. Problem is, how many times do you whip out your phone and play a level of that game? How many times do you shoot a quick text or check social? Shoot, how many times do you just glance at your clock and moan about not being asleep yet? I have a solution. Leave it outside the room but within earshot. If you get your 3 AM emergency you can be there but you’ll be significantly less tempted to check it every 5 minutes. If you can go all the way, shut it off. OFF.

Limit Blue Light at Night: About TV. About computers. About phones (again). They emit blue wavelengths of light and these are very stimulating for the brain. Sort of like daylight!  Not only are these entertaining, they wake up the brain. There are various apps and extensions on the market (f.lux) that will change the wavelengths of light to redder hues and I highly recommend them. I’d still advocate against bringing these devices into the bedroom, but if you’re finishing up some homework or responding to an email before bed it may be helpful to use those warmer colors. If for nothing else, it will reduce eyestrain.

Use White Noise: It helps us sleep because the changes in other environmental noise will be less noticeable. Also, anyone who suffers a ringing ear will be driven less to insanity. I’m a light sleeper, a very light sleeper. Events like a toilet flushing upstairs or even just the A/C switching on will wake me up. After buying a white noise machine I have significantly fewer issues with this. I recommend this machine. There are apps as well but I found the noise to be really tinny and unnatural. We’re also trying to use the phone less in the room! Remember? Of course, many people are pretty content with the noise from a fan as well. I personally find that the crappier the fan, the better the white noise. The ol’ faithful $20 Lasko fan is the best white noise IMO.

Avoid Eating Late at Night: Or, whenever “late” is for you. I haven’t forgotten about third shifters! Again, there are circumstances that make this difficult for some to commit to, but if you’re prone to any sort of gastrointestinal turbulence eating close to bedtime can be awfully distracting and uncomfortable. Likewise, eating your last meal a little too early and winding up hungry at bedtime can be as issue for some, so find your Goldilocks!

Make Your Room Cool at Night: I avoid running the A/C during the day, but I’m sure a lot of us find sleeping in a hot room miserable. If I had it my way I’d make it Hoth in my room at night, but that’s a little on the expensive side so I use a little bit of A/C, a fan, and sleep with fewer blankets; at least in the summer. In the winter I just turn the heat down a couple clicks and get to bury myself (yaaaaas). Keep it dark in there, too!

Make Your Bed in the Morning: Keeping your room tidy and the bed made will make for a welcoming and less chaotic environment. There isn’t much to this! We experience the world with all our senses, after all.

Limit Caffeine Use to the Earlier Portion of the Day: OK, so I know there are people who can drink a cup of coffee before bed and pass right out, but I am not one of these people. In fact, if I drink it anytime after about noontime I’m going to be wired and howling with the coyotes. Many recommendations suggest 3-4 PM as an absolute cutoff time, but if you’re more sensitive like I am you may want to consider leaving it to the morning only.

Sleep and Wake at Roughly the Same Time: Routine is everything. There will be times we need to deviate from routine, and that’s fine! Just try not to flip-flop too severely and all the time. Your rhythm will start to associate these times of day with rest and wakefulness.

Stop Drinking Water Roughly Two Hours Before Bed: It’s undeniable that water is the most healthful thing we can put into our bodies; however, if you slam it right before bed you’re setting yourself to need a mighty wee in the early hours of the morning. Limit water intake close to bedtime and take a good wiz before hitting the hay.

A Few Things Worth the Try

  • aromatherapy (especially lavender based blends) 
  • shower before bed (wet hair will lower cranial temperature)
  • melatonin and valerian root
  • chamomile tea (just like water, limit this a few hours before bed to prevent midnight bathroom breaks)

no strings attached
(aaron/robert, victoria)
in which aaron is insensitive, and robert worries 

so this is the first proper angst fic i’ve written in deaf!worse and i;m worried. it’s just…. i realised aaron had been more than sympathetic towards robert for too long and it didn’t feel realistic? especially not to aaron’s character. so. this is the fic i’ve written to make myself feel more comfortable. because life for deaf people isn’t always easy. 

NOT THAT THIS DOESN’T HAVE A HAPPY ENDING. because this is ultimately a feel good fic series so.

for @robertisbisexual @victoriasugden and @capseycartwright  and so many other people who always tell me they love my deaf!au and i am never going to be worthy of any of you

Robert’s in the cafe. 

He doesn’t want to to go to the pub, because he knows that’s where Aaron’ll be, and he can’t be bothered to deal with the mass of Dingles who will inevitably want to stick their noses in. 

Tucked into the corner, out of the way of most of the diners, Robert’s nursing a cup of tea. It’s not his usual fair, shrugging aside Bob’s usual sign of Americano for a different drink. He doesn’t know why now that he has it, watching steam curl out of the top of the mug. Laika’s at his feet, head on is trainer, and tail thumping rhythmically against his other leg. She’s got her ears pricked in Bob’s direction, and Robert knows she’s waiting for the obligatory treat. Usually, it would be enought to draw out a smile, but Robert’s not in the mood.

There’s a wave of a hand in the periphery of Robert’s vision and he looks up, watches Bob wave in his direction. 


Robert makes a face, knows his sister can’t resist sticking her nose in his relationship. He doesn’t want to talk about Aaron, not to anyone, much less his little sister. 

Afterward, when Robert slammed his way out of Andy’s, ignoring the brush of Aaron’s hand against his arm, he’d seen her outside of David’s and wanted to scream at her, blame her. She was the reason he and Aaron had met that way, the sign for good looking drawing him in like she knew it would. 

Now Robert’s just tired, trying to ignore the unfurling sadness and loneliness in his chest. 

Vic slides into the seat opposite, Laika’s happy rumble as she reaches up for a pet. Vic obliges, scratches her fingers through Laika’s fur. Robert risks a glance up, sees the sad look on her face. She meets his gaze. One handed, she signs,You okay?

Fine, Robert signs, a look on his face letting her know just how stupid the question is. I love fighting with my boyfriend.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

jun being a dad and being so lovely to his wife and child

✎ i just want to prefix this by saying, i’m sorry it’s not a full-fledged scenario! i’ve never done a bullet point style before, however, this request has been collecting dust in my inbox for ages and i think a bullet point would be most fitting! so enjoy!

also, i did not know whether to make the bby a boy or girl, so you can decide!


⦁ the day you purchased your first pregnancy test, oh my god you were a very nervous, overwrought lil peach who spent at least an hour or so pacing in the bathroom, slapping the box against your wrist.

⦁ “lol stopping being a loser and just take the damn test, [Y/N]!!!”

⦁ once you saw those two pink tiny lines, tears immediately began dampening your lashes and your breath fell short and your heart started swelling.

⦁ i am a mother!!!! i have my own flower child now!!! whoop whoop!!!

⦁ you’re so inexplicably joyous and wow it would be great if junhui were there to celebrate with you. but then you’re like, junhui!!! he is the father!!! and even though you’re married the anxiety returns bc what if he is not as happy as you!!

⦁ eventually ur man comes home from practice. he’s in his usual white tee and black sweats with his duffle bag over his shoulder. his hair is bit damp toward the ends but he looks very soft.

⦁ you’re sitting on the sofa, looking a bit hollowed. he notices your eyes are slightly puffy and he can decipher a timid glint in their irises. he drops his things and scoots next to you, slipping an arm around your waist and pressing a lil kiss to your temple.

⦁ “did you have a good day, bby?” then he hears a faint sniffle as you dig into your hoodie pocket and show him the test. at first he doesn’t exactly understand or entirely know what it is so he’s like, “cool lol.”

⦁ and then you sigh whilst laughing at the same time. “no ya big idiot, it’s a pregnancy test!! i’m pregnant!!” you study his reactions very meticulously. he looks at you, then the test, then you, then the test.

⦁ before you can get another word out, junhui’s shaking his knees and scooping up your legs to pull you into his lap. his palms cup your cheeks and he steals a long kiss from your lips n then plants many short ones on your forehead.

⦁ “i am a father!!!! you are a mother!!!”

⦁ you both start tearing up a lil more. “omg so true!!” *high five*

Keep reading

A Reminder: Take Care of Yourself

I see you, bleeding-servant hearts. I see you with your big feelings and burning desire to help. 

I see you trying to pour double-time from your cup; I see all of those extra holes in you to make sure everyone else gets enough to drink. I hear you take those late-night phone calls, I see you receive grief-filled text messages, I feel you comforting those around you… I see you putting so many people before yourself.  

I also see you bleary-eyed and exhausted, glancing at the angry red numbers that read “3:00 AM.” I hear you whisper to yourself oh? Is it that time already? Where did it all go? 
I know all-too-well the sign of coffee in shaking hands. I recognize those watery smiles from across the room. 

I see your cracking exposure. I see the tired lines in your face. I see your pursed lips, posing a request for help, but never forming the words. You don’t want to burden anyone, you tell yourself, as you burn your throat with another shot of espresso.

You pour so much into others, but you forget to pour back into yourself. 

You lose your precious sleep and you feel as if nothing is ever given to you in return. You spend countless amounts of hours doing thankless work, being a shoulder and a sounding board and a punching bag

I see you, and I ache for you with my own big feelings. My heart bleeds for you, right there on my own sleeve. 

Because right there in your tired eyes I see me, too.  

I see my own weariness, my own desperation for job well done, good and faithful servant. I feel the same burning desire to help.

We can’t feed others if we have not been fed. If our spirits are starving, then our souls are dying. And we cannot breathe life into other people when our own spiritual health is decaying. 

It doesn’t work that way, my loves. 
Even God rested on the seventh day. Jesus walked away a time or two. So, too, must we. 

You are doing great things, holy things, but you have to remember to carve in a little room for you among all of those other-people-things. 
There is a fine line between serving the Lord’s people and people-pleasing. 

Starving your soul for the sake of others will only result in famine for all parties involved. 

This is a reminder for you (yes, you): Please take care of yourself. This world needs you and your servant’s heart, but you also need you and your servant’s heart.
Thank you for all you do.

- 31Women (Ansley)


Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia

Genres: humor, jealousy, friendship

Summary: A jealous Caspian requested by @drinix Please tell me what do you think :)

Word count: 1,040


Originally posted by bentbarnes

Being bored has never lead you to anything good, so the moment you felt in need of finding something interesting to kill some time, you gave up to the temptation and moved off your bed. Staying under the deck of the ship was no fun at all and you could barely feel the excitement over your journey anymore from under deck. It wasn’t a good sign, so it was wise to change it.

Keep reading

Leading Suspects - Chapter 4

Summary: When an old friend in need reaches out to Katniss, she returns to the small town she swore she’d never set foot in again. Help Madge and then leave, she decides. But a murder investigation and one sheriff with stupid blue eyes and dimples all conspire to keep her where she thought she’d never want to be.

WARNINGS: RATED E for mentions of domestic abuse, character death, mild language to include racial slurs, an obscene love affair with coffee, and explicit sexual content.

Chapters 1 and 2 have been cross posted and can now be read on AO3 and FF.net! I’ll get the rest up there in the next few days. In the meantime, Chapter 3 is still only on tumblr HERE, and chapter 4 is below the cut.

Sorry, @peetabreadgirl, this will not be completely posted by your actual birthday, but hey! That means you can continue the party for a bit longer, yeah? Enjoy!

“This is a terrible idea,” Madge says nervously as I shove aside glass bottles until I find the one I want.

“Bailey’s is never a bad idea,” I insist. “Especially not if we’re going to be drinking shitty insta-coffee. Honestly Madge, you shoulda divorced his ass just for subjecting you to that torture.”

Madge snorts and curls her feet onto the couch as I crow in triumph and pull the still sealed bottle from the back of the generously stocked bar. She holds up both mugs of coffee for me to add a generous amount of Bailey’s to each. Setting the bottle on the coffee table, I accept my mug from her.

“Besides, when have I ever had a bad idea?” I ask and sigh at the first sip of what is more Bailey’s than coffee concoction.

Keep reading

inspireanddream  asked:

Oh my gooooddd can you PLEASE continue the day after Alex wakes up from getting completely shitfaced??

I got many requests for this! So here you go!

read on ao3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/10379967/chapters/23772336) or keep reading


Alex woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of her girlfriend crawling back into bed.

“Oh my god,” Alex moaned, covering her face with her arm. “I’m never doing that again.”

Maggie handed her a couple aspirin and some water and told her to drink before relinquishing the cup of coffee she’d just brought to bed.

“I am never drinking again. That’s it. I’ve decided.”

“I don’t believe you,” Maggie laughed. “You love alcohol too much to do that.”

“I have never been this hungover before, Maggie.” Alex said, glancing up at her girlfriend.

Maggie swiped the cup of coffee out of her hands and took a sip.

“Yeah I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that drunk before, Alex.”

“Oh my god. Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid….”


Alex shot up in bed and held her pounding head in her hands before turning to Maggie.

“What did I do? Just tell me. Do it quick. Like a bandaid.”

“You just got a little handsy, that’s all.” Maggie said, trying to act like it was no big deal. Like Alex hadn’t made a complete fool of herself.

“At least tell me it was with you-”

“Oh god yes, Danvers. You didn’t grope any of the superfriends.”

“So there was groping… great…” Alex groaned and flopped back against her pillow, stealing the coffee out of Maggie’s hands and going to take a sip.

“Oh there was more than groping…. Do you really not remember anything?” Maggie asked, swiping the coffee out of Alex’s hands before she had a chance to spill it, or realize that it was black coffee and spit it out, on their nice new white comforter.

“Nothing after about the fourth shot? Maybe the fifth?”

“How much detail do you want?”

“Everything. I want everything. I can’t have Winn or James mocking me for something I don’t know about. And please tell me I’m going to be able to look at Kara? I didn’t do anything that stupid?”

“You may be able to look at her, but I don’t know if she’s gonna be able to look at you…”

Alex groaned in response, covering her face with her hands.

Maggie put the coffee cup down on the bedside table and motioned to Alex.

“Come here, Danvers. Cuddle in. It’s storytime.”

“Oh god is it that bad? So bad that I need cuddles to survive hearing it?”

“Well maybe not, but I want sober cuddles that don’t involve you sticking your hands down my pants.”

“Hands… down your pants… in public? Oh my god I’m never hearing the end of this.”

Alex moved so she she was laying in Maggie’s arms, protected from the humility by the strong arms holding her and the kisses being left on her head.

By the time Maggie finished telling Alex the events of the night before, Alex had sunk down and hidden her head beneath the blankets, resting it on Maggie’s stomach, and groaning at every new detail she provided until she finished.

“And then you passed out in your underwear, hence why you’re not clothed.”

Maggie heard mumbling from underneath the sheet.

“What was that babe? You’re gonna have to come out if you want to talk to me,” Maggie laughed.

Alex flung the sheets up and held them above her head. She left her head resting on Maggie stomach and looked up at her.

“I said, oh my god I’m never going to be able to face them again….”

“You’re fine babe! They just thought it was funny!”

“It’s mortifying! It’s one thing to hold your hand or kiss you in front of them, but to try and make out with you and attempt to have very dirty sex on my sister’s couch in front of them?? And don’t even try to tell me they don’t know it was dirty sex cause they heard all the things I said I wanted to do to you…”

“At least they didn’t take pictures! I heard them debating. They said they didn’t want you to kill them!”

“Their opinion of me has probably gone from ‘oh that’s Alex, she’s probably going to remain a lonely spinster for life and get 50 cats’ to ‘that’s Alex, she’s likes to have very, very dirty lesbian sex with her lesbian girlfriend and she doesn’t care if we happen to see’ since I met you…”

“You know that they don’t care that you’re gay, right? Or that we’re together?”

“No, I know, just… I don’t know Maggie! This is so embarrassing! Why didn’t you stop me earlier?” Alex whined.

“I tried, babe. You put up an awfully hard fight.”

“There’s this machine in the DEO lab that’s supposed to make time travel possible. What if-”

“No. Alex you are not messing with time. No matter what cool science toys you’ve got in your lab you are not playing with them.”



Alex frowned and pouted at Maggie.

“No, Alex! I will keep you in this bed all day if I have to, to keep you from going over there!”

“Well there are plenty of things I can do to entertain myself in this bed…”

Alex moved so she could straddle Maggie’s waist.

“Oh I know babe,” Maggie said, leaning up to kiss Alex, “and all of our friends do too.”

Shitty/Lardo Coffee AU

Lardo would never admit it, not to anyone, but she secretly loved working at Annie’s. Pocket change aside, she loved the atmosphere, the camaraderie between herself and the other baristas, even the rough-and-tumble pace of rush hours and exam weeks. She loved coming home from work at the end of the day smelling like coffee beans and spices and fresh-baked goods. She loved when she got opening shifts, so that she could decorate the board outside and the chalk menus on the inside. Whether it’s the standard rainbows and violets and pride flags that are never far from Samwell’s aesthetic or something more seasonal or relevant to current events or whatever, she enjoyed the occasional return to what she loved about art in the first place: making pretty or spooky or eye-catching things that made herself and others happy.

One of the best parts of working at Annie’s, though, was definitely all the creep-tastic people-watching and eavesdropping she got to do. She loved when the tall, solemn jock (Jack, he always said, just loud enough to hear over the noise in the cafe, always leaving a sizeable tip in the Wellie-themed tip jar) came in with the little blond spitfire (Bitty, he always added with a sunny smile that could probably melt even Samwell’s snowdrifts) who was not-so-subtly in love with his friend. (The other baristas had bets about when they’d get together, but Lardo saved her money, planning instead to spend the ten bucks on getting them a cupcake or something when they finally figured it out. She remembered when Jack came in alone. He never smiled that much before. Or, you know. At all.) She loved when the tall black Canadian (Ransom - nickname?) came in with the even taller white loudmouth (Holster - hopefully a nickname too?) and practically finished each other’s sentences. No one knew if they were dating. No one - well, Lardo, at least - cared. They always seemed happy, and that was all that mattered to her. She loved when her fellow barista Farmer’s boyfriend Chowder came in with his friends. She’d actually had a class with Nursey (her last history requirement and his first), so she knew enough to only ever entrust his drink to Dex and to stay well out of their arguments. She wasn’t sure if they were dating, either. It was Samwell. Who ever knew?

She particularly loved when this one guy came in like clockwork at nine every weekday, three every weekend. She knew, objectively speaking, he wasn’t exactly a looker. He had the hair of an eighties rock artist who got lost in a series of back alleys, a pervert moustache, and the kind of lanky, tall frame that screamed “fuckboy” to her well-trained eyes. By all rights, she should at least dislike him on looks alone.

And yet.

There was just something about him that always drew her eyes back to him. She decided it was an artist’s instinct, wondering how the fact to capture the train wreck that was his mop of hair on paper or canvas, when she realized she was thinking just as much about his eyes, and his hands, and his mouth, and so she reconsidered.

So much of it was in the way he moved, she thought. For as much as he looked like the worst kind of Call of Duty douche canoe, he moved like a five-year-old, constantly bouncing from Point A to Point B, then practically vibrating as if he was just dying to get to Point C, and so on. But it was also in his eyes, which never dipped below her chin, or the chins of any of the other baristas on duty. They were good eyes, if a bit plain, but full of light, the kind that she had never been able to translate to the canvas.

And then he came in one day, completely out of schedule, talking animatedly with Jack (before Bitty ever started to come by), and she knew he could not be the asshat she imagined him as. Jack wasn’t smiling, not by a long shot, but Lardo saw in a glance that wasn’t because he wasn’t happy.

By some stroke of fate, though, the entire year she’d been working at Annie’s (excluding the semester she’d spent abroad), she had never worked the cashier the same time as he’d come in, and not for lack of trying. After that fateful unscheduled visit, she’d tried to get her hand in, but she didn’t do the whole cashier thing much anyway, usually mixing drinks because she was the best with proportions (funnily enough, she saw it as similar to mixing paint) and her math skills were not exactly the strongest. Still, she did it sometimes, but never when the guy came in, until one day toward the end of the winter semester of her junior year, when he comes in like clockwork, shaking the snow from his head and glancing around like always, as if he’d never seen the place before.

“What can I get for you today?” Lardo asked politely, trying to keep to her normal levels of monotone so the excitement didn’t get through. She’d heard him speak before, of course - his voice was loud, and he never really made a point to lower it - but she’d never gotten to speak to him herself.

“So that’s what your voice sounds like,” Ugly Hair grinned. “I didn’t know if Jack was lying to me when he said you had one.”

“I’m surprised Jack mentioned me,” she replied truthfully. She knew he was considerate, from the way he’d sometimes pay for Bitty’s drink when the blond was low on cash to the way he always tipped well, but there was a difference between generosity and noticing a barista’s speaking habits. “I take it you’ll want your usual?”

“Of course he mentions you,” Ugly Hair said. “You’re the only barista here other than Farmer who hasn’t tried to hit on him while he was trying to get his coffee. And yeah, medium mocha latte and a croissant. You’re his favorite barista in the history of ever.”

Lardo smiled as Ugly Hair paid. “He’s a favorite of mine around here, too. He has kind eyes, and he’s always polite. And I’m happy he’s finally found someone to make him smile now and again.”

“Who, Bitty? Yeah, the little dude just seems to bring out the best in everybody, I think. He’s really good for Jack, who’s been around so many people who are only interested in the worst.” Ugly Hair scratched his chin and smiled at her. “So am I getting my drink?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lardo cringed and grabbed a medium cup. She was by herself behind the counter at the moment, since it was the between-meal slump, and it always threw off her groove to do everything herself. “Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Let’s go with…The Dread Pirate Roberts, this time,” Ugly Hair decided, and Lardo shot back a grin.

“Aw, your Buttercup waiting for you somewhere?” she asked, scrawling the chosen name on the cup and going to make his drink. She was glad there wasn’t anyone else in the store to pay attention to; this was the most engaging conversation she’d had all week.

“Naw, I just like the idea of being a pirate,” he said. “You got a name yourself?”

“Larissa, but my friends call me Lardo,” she answered, tilting her head at the frown that took over his face.

“They don’t sound like good friends to me,” he muttered, and she turned it over in her head for a second before getting it.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing to do with my weight or anything,” she reassured him. “Although I wouldn’t care if it was, seeing as I am the smallest person I know, and all. Freshman year I had to make a sculpture out of an item of food. Most people chose cereal or whatever, but I made a vivisected pig out of lard. It was pretty extra, so I kind of got a rep out of it.” She was not prepared for the full-bodied laugh that accompanied her story. It shook his entire body, and his face scrunched up in a way that should absolutely not have been endearing.

“Man, that’s insane,” he giggled. “I love it.”

“Thanks,” she answered, handing over his drink and bagged croissant. “Have a good day, Captain Roberts.”

“As you wish, Lardo.”

It became a kind of habit. Every day, if she happened to be working at the same time, he would order and then come talk to her until his drink was out. Politics, art, Marvel vs. DC, literally everything and anything that came to mind. Every day, when she asked for his name, he gave her a different fictional character to put on his cup.

On one hand, she was kind of impressed. He never repeated one, not once in all the time she’d asked; she wondered if he had a list. But on the other hand, she was pissed off. Why didn’t he want her to know his name? Was it really bad, or did he just not want her to ask him out (which she did not do, ever™), or what?

Anyway, with finals and the utter shit art majors have to go through around that time, she didn’t really see him until right before she went home for Christmas Break, and she was completely unprepared when she did. It wasn’t at his usual time, and he came in with all her favorites. Jack and Bitty and Ransom and Holster and Chowder and Nursey and Dex all kind of mobbed Annie’s that Friday afternoon at around five, the once-Captain Roberts (and, most recently, Captain Jack Sparrow) in the midst of the probably buzzed crew. She shot Farmer and March smug smiles as she continued her lazy sweep up of the dining areas. (She’d had to deal with the entire LAX crew, only barely sober enough to stand, just an hour ago. By herself. Fuck the LAX crew.)

As was usual, though, once former Captain Jack Sparrow shouted his order over the noise, he staggered his way in her direction.

“Hey, Lardo,” he slurred, but only slightly.

“What have you been drinking?” she asked, fighting the smile she could feel in her chest. She’s only been gifted with this idiot while drunk once, and it was awesome. He literally did not shut up about how pretty she was the entire time. She didn’t need it, but it was nice to be appreciated. Especially when said appreciation never once approached how “hot” or “sexy” she was. Only “pretty”. She didn’t get a lot of that anymore.

“Tub juice,” he burped.

“Sounds disgusting. I wish I had some,” she sighed, sweeping more straw paper up. “Especially after the week I’ve had.”

“Well, when do you get off?” he asked. “We got more we can save for you.”

“Actually, I’m off in about ten,” she answered, ordering the bubbles in her stomach to settle the fuck down. “If you don’t mind waiting.”

“Course not,” he grinned, giving her a tipsy hug, that, despite her instinctual reaction to flinch away, was actually quite nice. Warm and comforting. “Guys, you mind if Lardo comes back to the Haus with us?” Lardo blinked, not sure where the confusion started. Did he live with those other guys? Since when? And why did the way he said “house” sound different?

When he got pretty much unanimous “hell yeahs”, he grinned back at her. “So it’s settled.”

“Does this mean I get to know your actual name now? Or do I just keep calling your Batman for the rest of time?” she half-joked, half-demanded. She knew his drunk ass would only get one half of it, and she wasn’t particular on which half he picked up;

“Oh! You don’t know my name! Sorry, I always give the barista on duty some kind of crap fake name because I hate my real name and I figured I didn’t want to force any barista who didn’t like swearing into writing my nickname. It’s kind of habit. But yeah, my friends call me Shitty.”

“Shitty.” She stared at him, wondering if the alcohol had messed with his brain.

“Yeah.” He grinned, and she was suddenly thrown back to when she first saw him, ugly hair, ugly beard, ugly fuckboy posture. She grinned back.


Follow up to this fic. Some tres leches finally ahahaha. There is drinking involved just FYI Also may be last one for a little bit while I focus on holiday stuff. Feel free to send more prompt ideas if you want though O: (Also after the holidays Bad Future AU eeey)


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How is a typical day of Lily? Definitely many things, but most of all depends on whether I’m working or is my day off. If I am working, I sometimes have to get up in the morning 4 am and lead straight to the studio where I immediately do my hair and my makeup. In days of filming, I usually get home late at night. Before going to bed I watch TV to turn off my brain. If I have some free time, I can organize something. I love to move, so when I wake up, I drink a cup of tea, eats something and I go running, hiking or do a fun workout. After that usually I write, read or meet with some people, or sometimes go out with friends to watch a movie or go to dinner. There is no specific “typical” day. I just let myself drift with the flow and see what comes out.

Blank Space  Chapter 1

TITLE: Blank Space

AUTHORS: cinderella1181



FIC SUMMARY: When Jai Courtney sees the girl across the crowded bar, he doesn’t expect his world to change in the way that it does. But Juliette Wessex has a bucket list, so she grabs his hand and his heart and takes him on the ride of a life time.

RATING: Mature

AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks so much for reading! Here is the first chapter! If you like the story please, follow my blog, it’s the easiest way to keep up to date on the fic!
Many Many thanks to my wonderful beta sobeautifullyobsessed, without here, none of this is possible!

Catch Up: Prologue

Hour 1

Jai wasn’t sure what it was the made him look up from the group. What it was that pulled him away from the conversation, but something had. When he looked up, he saw her. Blond curls moving through the crowd.

He strained his neck, trying to see where she went, even moving to the other side of the girl who was working very hard to get him to take her back to his room at the resort. He watched the cascade of blond reappear at the bar. He leaned over to Liam, saying simply, “I am going to the bar.”

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I am a mess. My house looks more like a gear closet, than a place to live. There are books, magazines, and textbooks littering my floor. There are dishes in my sink, coffee cups all around, and my car is not perfectly detailed. I am tired, so so tired, from staying up late dreaming of the stars with friends. My hands are cut up, bruised and rough from climbing up walls. My feet ache from running around the city. I can’t garden, I can’t sew and I can’t cook, other than a rad cup of cereal; I can tell you all the legal advice you need, or go on for hours about my favorite philosopher or president. I have more climbing shoes than heels, but can tell you the best gin. I don’t have a mother to teach me domestic things, and that doesn’t make me any less of a person. I have the best of friends, that allow me to call so many places home. I am so incredibly happy with life. Come climb a mountain with me, some ice, some rock, sit in a field with me, drink beers and let’s enjoy some coffee. 


Happy 2nd Birthday, agentsterling! It’s been an amazing two years working on this blog with you guys and building this character into what he is today thanks to all of you! 

So, for a lucky one of you, I have a prize to give away! 

The first prize I’m giving out will be A 5OZ TIN OF SON OF COUL TEA FROM ADAGIO.COM. 

It’s the tea I drink just about every morning. Apparently designed to motivate for a hard day at the office and it’s certainly worked wonders for me. Whenever I am on the verge of an anxiety attack I calm myself down by telling myself I will go have a cup of tea and everything would be fine. I rate my stress by how many cups of Son of Coul it takes to calm me down. It tastes and smells like nuts and chocolate. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. 

And if you don’t like the tea, the tin it comes in is awesome too. I’ve got a bunch of them I use for storing jewelry and such. 

Ingredients: black tea, toasted mate, natural chestnut flavor, natural caramel flavor, cocoa nibs, natural chocolate flavor, natural vanilla flavor


  • Be following me. I don’t normally make that a rule but it’s my blog’s birthday and this is for my beautiful followers. 
  • Reblog or like as many times are you want.
  • Winners will be drawn randomly on August 11th, when the next give away starts.

Good luck, all and thanks for being there to make these 2 years special!