i had the day off and still

Don't give me bullshit before 10am

Low-key fake customer service expert here working at the big M “arts and crafts store”.
First of all, lady. It is 9:30 in the fucking morning and I’m still getting over a really bad cold that had me out for 4 days. Despite feeling like my face was going to cave in at any moment, there was absolutely no issues with our interaction.
Until.
Your ass. Decided to suddenly remember your 50% off coupon AS YOUR PAYMENT WAS PROCESSING.
You asked if I could cancel. I couldn’t.
“Oops, too late.” I said in my painfully bubbly Minnie Mouse customer care voice that should not be possible that early.
“Well…VOID it.” You spat back with your eyebrows raised and a tangy little dip in your voice like a 15 year old, pretending your jowls weren’t trying to slide off of your face from roughly 50 years of your shitty attitude rotting you away from the inside out.
“I can do a return and adjust the price for you no problem!” I nearly choked on the sugar pouring out of my mouth trying to subdue your bullshit in honey and sprinkles so I didn’t get overwhelmed by the desire to choke slam you, because I would prefer one of you every now and then over jail.
Great thing is, I’m pretty stellar at my job and an absolute expert at doing the literal most basic resale with a price adjustment.
We were so close.
We were almost golden, Ponyboy.
But no. That wasn’t enough for you.
“Don’t you KNow ME?!”
What.
“I practically live in this store!” Suddenly your smile reminded me of the evil witch convincing Snow White to eat the apple. I inaudibley gagged on the horrible excuse for a laugh that I let out in response. A common joke many regulars make.
“But…I’ve never seen YOU before..so you must be new. I’m here all the time. You should know I always use coupons and you should have just done it for me.”
…….what. what? What?!
I have never seen you in my entire life let alone the 7 months I’ve been working here. Besides, we have hundreds of customers a DAY, so even if you were camped out in the canvas, I probably still wouldn’t know or care to know you.
At the same time, even if you were my mother (which I cannot thank the universe enough that I have no connection to you whatsoever), I still would not just automatically scan a coupon for you.
Know why?
I. Would. Get. Fired.
I don’t care if you are the Pope, if you don’t have a coupon you don’t get the discount!

Normally this would not have bothered me as much as it did but the absolute last thing I want to deal with first thing in the morning is a grown woman speaking to me with an attitude that was so awful and obnoxious, my middle school self would have throat punched you.

Crotchety old bitch.

anonymous asked:

Queen V! A controversial one: Aaron + THE baby & number 86?? Thank you!

FOR REAL THOUGH, DON’T READ THIS IF YOU CAN’T BEAR THE IDEA, K? i’m gonna put most of it under a cut so you can avoid if you want to, don’t say i never did anything for you

:::

86. Don’t be scared, I’m right here

She’s crying. It’s their first day looking after her on their own. Rebecca had dropped her off warily, making stilted conversation with Robert near the door. They’re all getting there but it’s a weird situation, it’ll take time.

Keep reading

Good morning folks!

Off to an excellent day… My kids are still ll asleep and it’s after 9am. .. I manged to make a new friend who introduced me to some awesome music. Had a healthy yummy breakfast… Now I’m gonna play my township game and clean house.

Hope you’re all well and feeling great! Come say hi, send me some random asks.. Or better yet, send me some work out music.

What gets your blood pumping? What do you listen to when you’re working out?

I just finished watching @therealjacksepticeye play through The Last Guardian and can I just say MAN that game is incredible. I wish I had a ps4 to play it on. Props to Jack for taking me through this amazing journey instead :’) 

Hijack Week June Day 2

This is more about Stoick than Hijack, but I like getting the ‘single parent’ POV from him

Please enjoy!

It was hard, raising his son by himself.

Back when Valka was still around, she and their son were the center of his universe. For a long while.

And then she was gone. Leaving behind a heartbroken man and their tiny, tearful child.

Keep reading

The Florida medical marijuana act is a goddamn fucking joke y'all. So much.

You have to be treated for 3 months by conventional methods first before they can recommend you weed.

Because I’ve been uninsured for the last year, I have no documentation showing I’ve had my PTSD treated conventionally for 3 months.

And to kick that off, they haven’t set down the rules and regulations yet, so they’re still operating off of the 2014 act, which is low THC, high CBD

and high CBD DOES NOT work for my PTSD. it helps, but not as much as THC.

So even after waiting goddamn mother fucking 90 shitty fucking days, I’ll be able to get shit that won’t even help me the best

Luv life so much rn y'all 🙃

anonymous asked:

hello your writing is really beautiful n you are such a great writer! I recently posted my first fic but the notes were kinda low and I honestly am just doing this because I love writing so I want to get more ppl to read my the fic that I worked hard on. I was just wondering if u cld share with me how many notes u had gotten on ur first fic when it was released (u dun hv to if this is too personal) or any tips for new writers on how to get their work out there? tysm

hello! thank you so much for the kind words!!! For my first fic, I had about 40 notes i think…maybe even less than that lol i can’t really remember but I remember being elated when I hit 30 haha. tbh I still am even to this day super happy when I hit 30.

First off, I want to say that tumblr is an odd place. Sometimes super well written fics with great vocab & an amazing plot line & etc etc etc barely get any notes while others that are in my opinion, not so well written with misspelled words, bad grammar and etc etc etc get a ton of notes so I wouldn’t worry about notes that much. Also there are a ton of silent readers. A TON. come on peeps show the fic some love if you liked it! I know when I first started reading I didn’t leave a like either lol bc… idk I just didn’t do it until I saw a post that explained how important feedback is. I mean I feel it even more so now that I write haha. 

ok anyway, i’m going to put the rest of my answer under the break bc it’s pretty long and I don’t wanna clog people’s dash, sorry!

Keep reading

“The floor is lava…”, he whispered. Nobody heard him. And if they did they always chose to ignore him. “Hey! The floor…it’s…it’s lava”, he said a little louder. Amber gave him a quick glance then pretended he wasn’t there. It was like that one time he finally managed to confess to her in 9th grade. She had stared at him with a puzzled look on her face and then walked away without saying a single word. The next day he was as good as dead to her and her friends. He could still be in the same room as them but his presence got unacknowledged. “I am telling you! The floor is lava!” “Oh, fuck off, Jake”, said Amber. It was the first time Amber, let alone anyone, spoke to him since the death of his parents. A tear rolled over his cheek and was followed by a smile. “But but…”. “Listen to me Jake. The floor is lava, the sky is lava, the floor is my pussy…” (He could see Max picturing the latter in his mind’s eye), all of it.. just stop it, okay? This has been going on for days and nobody gives a damn. You are only making a fool of yourself Jake!“, she exclaimed. "Bet he wished the floor was your pussy”, howled Max. “Fucking loser." A smile appeared on Jake’s face. "See! Told you! He really wants the floor to be…” “Oh, shut up, Max!” Sweat started to drip from Jake’s forehead. He grinned. “The. Floor. Is. Lava.” 5…..4…..3….2….he jumped on his desk….1….and then watched Amber, Max and their friends being swallowed by the lava. Their screams music to his ears and the smell of their burning corpses something he would cherish forever. The same way he cherished that of his parents. “The floor is lava, bitch.”

Imagine Andrew as a teacher

(bear with me I gotta get this out of my head) 

-Okay so he doesn’t go continue to play exy 

-But becomes a criminology teacher at Palmetto (cos Nora said that was his major) 

-With glasses and all that shit. His students have a love/hate relation with him. To put it mildly, he’s a complete ass but I love him 

-also Professor Minyard

-And mostly after the first class itself the students realise this- You do not talk when he’s talking or giving a lecture unless you want a perfectly aimed chalk thrown at your head or a “Get the fuck out or shut the fuck up you choose Avery” shouted your way 

-And you do not dare to make fun of his height. He will fucking annihilate you. “You think I’m smol small Johnson, have you seen your dick?“ 

-And yes he remembers your name and grade that fucker with his eidetic memory 

-And his students are terrified of him but have a lot of respect for this teacher who doesn’t look like an exy fan but occasionally shows up in jerseys or sweatshirts with “Josten” written at the back 

-So. One day this student has some work and goes to Andrew’s tiny office Imagine his shock and awe when he sees Neil Josten, Olympic winner, exy champion in all his glory sitting on Andrew’s chair with his feet crossed on the table 

-“You’re not Andrew.”, Neil says. 

-“I had some questions for mid-” And Andrew enters. 

-He stops when he sees Neil “Feet off my table. Now.” the disrespect ffs Neil  And the student’s just like do?? you?? know?? who?? that?? is??

-And the student looks over at Neil who btw still has his feet on the table and the student thinks “Does he have a death wish?” Neil breaks the silence and says 

-“I thought I’d surprise you.”       

“Leave”, comes the reply 

-And for a moment they both only have eyes for each other, leaving the poor sophomore highly uncomfortable 

 -And then thankfully, before he/she becomes a murder witness, Neil takes his legs off the table and smiles. Neil Josten smiles. This was the man who ripped Riko Moriyama apart. Who fought tooth and nail to get to where he was. Who’s mouth has gotten him into trouble more times than he could count. He fucking smiles. 

-And Neil walks past Andrew, almost brushing his shoulder while leaving and Andrew grips his forearm

-And everything but the two of them melts away. Nothing else fucking matters as if it ever did in the first place 

-And for a second, a fucking fraction of a second, Andrew’s expression shifts 

-And the student is in shock cos obvs Andrew teaches like he does everything else. With stone cold apathy and a tiny bit of disgust but still fucking brilliant. 

-And then Andrew says, “I’ll see you at home.” And then the student notices the “Minyard” on Neil’s sweater (Renee gave it to Andrew as a birthday present when she learned to knit and Neil wears it all the damn time) and understanding seeps into place. Neil leaves after a bit more staring. 

-And Andrew looks at his student and quirks an eyebrow.  

-By the next day the whole school knows that their criminology teacher is dating Neil Josten. 

-After that my poor baby Andrew has to keep repeating in the first class of every freshman year “If you want to be killed in your sleep or want to fail this class, try asking for an autograph. Oh and get used to death threats, you are going to major in fucking criminology after all.

Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone. 

Words: 1,600

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff. 

A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors. 


Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.

“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.

“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.

“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.

“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.

“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.

“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of  them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.  

Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn’t make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.

“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.

She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.

“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.

Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.

She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”

Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.

“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.

She shook her head.

“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”

“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”

“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”

“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.

“You sure about that?” He asked again.

“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”

Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.

“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.

Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.

“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”

She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.

“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.

He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.

She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.

He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“Would it made a difference if I did?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.

“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.

Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”

She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.

“Okay.” He replied.

“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.

“I’ll go out with you.”

“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”

Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.

He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.

“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.

“No, Bets.”

Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”

“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.

She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”

“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”

Update. Still homeless.

I’ve been homeless since June 1st again due to my dad physically assaulting me and getting off Scott free. I’m living on begging for cash, selling literally anything I own, and applying to any job that will take me.

So far I’ve had a couple of interviews and I’ve even had a team in a small business legitimately talk about taking me on, so things could be worse.

Unfortunately I’m living in my car, which means I have to use a lot of gas. I end up having to beg for a few hours in the day (in Florida (in the summer) mind you) just to put $5 in my tank, and it still barely lasts me the day.

Please I’m begging anyone and everyone, please donate. All the money will strictly go towards gas I can even show proof of purchase for every cent that gets donated. I just really really need anything I can get right now.

PayPal: unity.mccanless@yahoo.com

Long Live the Plains Magpies

I know I’ve talked about this before but I’m going to talk about it more because fuck this shit. 

Pocahontas (the Disney movie) has received well deserved flack, but I almost never hear about one way it really affected me growing up: It taught me how natives are ‘supposed’ to look. It came out the year before I started kindergarten so the hype was still pretty fresh. Picture this

Literally. 

I’m the girl on the right. The girl on the left was my friend Ashton. 

Of course there came a day when we had a ‘dress up as pilgrims and indians’ day at school. My family couldn’t afford to get me an ‘indian costume and I wouldn’t have my own regalia for another four years*, but Ashton was from a better off family and she, along with many, many others showed up at school wearing Pocahontas merch. 

And little five year old me couldn’t quite understand what I was feeling. See, the popular idea of native peoples has us looking like this:

Know what Osage (and other plains people) wear to powwows? 

This did not add up in my mind. 

The ‘good’ natives wore simple buckskin. The popular girls dressed up as these good natives. But when I thought about what I’d seen at powwows I started to feel like this was Pocahontas:

And this was Osage

If you get what I mean. I’m trying to give voice to a 5 year olds feelings, cut me some slack. 

I saw my own culture as tacky and over the top and I learned to become embarrassed by it, even ashamed of it. I spent years feeling like this. Like my culture was the gaudy aunt with 500 cats compared to ‘REAL’ natives. I also was very confused at why a blonde white girl was considered more ‘indian’ than me by our classmates because she wore a fake buckskin dress and I remember sitting in my pink sweats wanting to scream ‘but I really AM native!’ but since I wore pink sweats I honestly thought no one would believe me so I stayed silent.

Eventually I unlearned this. But it wasn’t as six. Or seven. Or seventeen. It was at twenty-four. 

THAT’S how deep this shit runs. 

I was speaking with fellow plains native @stalkershandbook one night and she remarked that natives are like magpies; we take ribbons and sparkles and beads and paint and we make it work. Our regalia is BEAUTIFUL. It’s taken me so fucking long to appreciate it. I hope you do too. 

* this is the regalia I got at 9, the dress made by my grandmother

BTS Reaction to You Giving Them The Silent Treatment

Incognito; Could you do an Bts react to their s/o giving them a temporary silent treatment for something they did in their s/o’s dream?

Note: of course I can! I hope you like this ~


Jin ➳ You couldn’t see him the same way, he had murdered you inside your dream as he laughed — but as he still stared to you in innocent curiosity despite you ignoring him, you began to slowly get frightened. “Are you trying to observe which part of my body would be easiest to pierce?”

His eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his lips curling upward before he let out a confused chuckle. “What?”

Originally posted by jiyoongis


Suga ➳ You knew it was just a dream, but you could practically imagine him sleeping deeply as someone tried to abduct you from right beside him. You felt betrayed knowing it could actually happen, ignoring the man throughout the day but little did you know, Yoongi was slowly becoming salty as hell.

Holding his anger in, the next day when you became all happy and spoke to him; asking him if he wanted to go out to eat he only looked to you. “And who are you?”

Originally posted by jitonic


J-Hope ➳ You could remember it clearly, his face becoming nothing but stoic before a smirk grazed his lip — pushing you off the cliff as you fell down the never-ending air. And here he was, arms filled with milkshakes with that same damn smirk plastered onto his face. You were ignoring him as he spoke about his day while inhaling his milkshake empty before eying yours. It wasn’t long before he took yours from your hands, receiving an incoherent voice of refusal as he laughed. “You’ve been acting strange today,” he said, taking the straw out and placing the sugar coated end in his mouth, “I still love you though.”

Originally posted by rapfluff


RapMonster ➳ He understood what you felt, knowing you had a dream about him once you took his arm off your waist when you had woken up. He didn’t know what he did, knowing it must’ve been something horrible since whenever he would reach for your hand you would flinch in slight terror. The day went on normal but quiet, and when you both soundlessly went out to grab a bite to eat — the food you both shared would be silently passed around as the birds singing was the only source to make the atmosphere more alleviating.

Originally posted by blessedbyjarry


Jimin ➳ “What did I do?” He suddenly asked as you didn’t kiss or hug him after he sang his solo to thousands. You crossed your arms with a pout on your lips, having ignored him all day but still going to his concert to support him.

“You cheated on me,” you growled and he instantly caught on — knowing it was one of your dreams yet his eyes still widened, “with Taehyung.” He began to giggle, looking away from you and wondering why you were being so cute before pulling you into a hug.

Originally posted by jitamin


V ➳ He straight up dumped you, telling you he didn’t want to have your ‘clingy ass’ around him anymore and when you woke up, the icy, cold glare was evident on your features. You ignored him all day, and he was being so kind to you but you didn’t give him any of your attention because in all honesty, he was the clingy one! 

“(y/n)~!” He’d sing, following after you and interrupting your inner turmoil as you stormed to the backyard. He would then begin to smack you with his sleeves, pushing you around until you finally give in and give him love.

Originally posted by rapnamu


Jungkook ➳ It was something you always dreaded, finding him naked and sprawled across some other woman. You were devastated, soon ignoring the boy once you woke up and just giving him the cold shoulder until he finally put his foot down. “Hey!” He yelled, becoming smart since you weren’t clearly hearing him and you jumped from the loud tone. “Wake up! I’m not that same man from your dreams,” he exhaled deeply, his face impassive and annoyed as he grabbed your hand, “so don’t treat me like I am.”

Originally posted by jiguk


Masterlist

Studying with an invisible illness

Studying when you’re sick is one of worst things. Trying to study when you are always sick is even worse and having teachers or lecturers constantly debate your well-being or how sick you actually are, can be one of the most depressing situations. I have suffered with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome since I was 16, all through my A-Levels and through my first year of University. I passed everything! Perhaps I didn’t get the perfect grade, but for me that is not the most important thing anymore. Here I have listed some of the tips which help me study:

1.       Don’t overdo it! Set yourself a goal, maybe two or three pages of reading or a page of notes on reading. The worst thing you can try and do is bash on regardless. It is important you understand your body and your limits.

2.       Study in small bursts. I find that studying in small sets of 20 minutes with a 20 minute break are great for me. It allows me time to focus on what I need to do, but I don’t tire myself out studying for hours and hours on end. Naturally, these times can be managed to your own personal needs.

3.       Set up a nice space. I can’t stress how important it is that you are comfortable when you are studying, especially when you’re not feeling that great. If you know you are going to study in bed, make up you have everything you need in arms reach, including snacks and drinks. If you are going to study at a desk, the library, a café, the same rules apply! Make sure the chairs are comfy, that there is enough light and that you are comfortable leaving your stuff (in case of bathroom breaks or emergencies.) It is also worth noting that some pain medications can take up to 30 mins to work, so plan ahead and take them before!

4.       Certain classes will need prioritisation. This was super hard for me. In A-Levels, I studied what I wanted to study, despite certain teachers trying to persuade me otherwise. I chose three relatively hard subjects; English language, German and Psychology. Both my German classes were at 9am, a time which I super struggle to get up for. Therefore, I knew I had to prioritise my German studies over my English studies, classes which I attended regularly. It is important to note that keeping a healthy balance between all subjects is important too!

5.       Podcasts and audio books! Not feeling that great but still need to study? Find podcasts and audio books on relevant topics and listen to them while lying down or in bed. (I used to make my own recordings of my psychology book to listen to when I needed to take a day off.)

6.       Don’t be afraid to take a day off. When I was at the peak of my illness, I was still trying to force myself to get to all my classes or to study. Now I realise that I don’t have to feel guilty for taking a day or two to recover. I try not to let these become weeks, but sometimes it happens. And that is ok. If you are constantly punishing yourself, you will never feel good about the amount of work you do complete!

7.       Planning to go to University? This links in with my previous point. Don’t feel the need to rush into everything so quickly. You can take a year off. You can recover. You can do things you love to do in this time. I took a gap year, in which I mostly spent a lot of time with my Mum and sister before going to University. It helped me so much.

8.       Suffer from brain fog? Use memory techniques such as colour coding words, highlighting important information, mnemonics, reading aloud and quizzes. When I suffer from brain fog, I find colour-coding and visual aids the most helpful. Study groups which break down subjects into easier, more manageable bites of information are also super great!

9.       Stay away from caffeine! A lot of people I know depend on caffeine in order to get themselves started. While caffeine can help boost your energy levels for a small amount of time or focus your brain, too much caffeine can have negative effects on your sleep, which may make you feel worse the next day. Try and limit your caffeine to two or three cups a day if you absolutely need a cup of coffee!

10.   Don’t panic. You are doing the best that you can. If you fail, it is not the end of the world. I wish somebody had told me this sooner. If you fail an exam, you can do it again, at a later date. If you fail a year, you can do it again. This happens to people who aren’t sick all the time. So don’t worry. Just do your best.

Cake Batter

*NSFW* I won’t be able to think about frosting the same again. Enjoy! xxh ;)

It was a quiet and lazy morning in Harry’s apartment. The two of you had slowly gotten up and around for the day, taking your time and enjoying the rare occasion. You’d gone off to the kitchen a while ago, and Harry was still lounging on the couch, dozing off again. He was brought back to reality by your voice, calling out.

“Harry, can you come here?”

He pushed himself off of the couch and rubbed his eyes, then came around the corner to find you kneeling on the counter in front of an open cupboard. Your hands were on your hips, looking very intently for something.

“What is it, love?” he asked, leaning up against the doorframe, a bit confused.

“Do you have any vanilla? I need it for a recipe,” you explained, turning to look at him, “We’re going to your Mum’s and I told her I’d bring desert.”

He thought for a moment, confused expression painted on his face, and then his eyes grew wide as he remembered.

“I’ll grab it,” he said, “I always keep it tucked away over here because I hardly ever bake anymore. Catch?”

You cupped your hands out in front of you and (thankfully) caught the small glass bottle once it left his hands, “It’s still good, right? Not an ancient bottle of vanilla from your baking days?”

He smirked, “Jus’ bought it a few months ago before the holiday, should be jus’ fine.”

You twisted the tiny cap off and took a breath in, “Smells okay to me,” you laughed, “the last thing I need is to poison your family with a cake because of bad vanilla, I’m finally starting to get on Gemma’s good side.”

“They’ll love it regardless, and you know they love you too,” he assured you, coming up behind you and grabbing your waist. He spoke into your hair, “Don’t see why anyone wouldn’t love you, you’re perfect.”

You were glad to be facing the wall, because your cheek grew red embarrassingly quick, “Harry, you know that’s the farthest thing from the truth,”

“Yeh can argue all you want, petal, but we both know I’m right,” he teased, “What are you making anyway?”

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the lover

hi pals, this is part two to the fighter. i hope you all like it!! thank you for all the love you’ve given the fighter

warning: smut

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questions, comments, concerns

Harry groggily starts to blink awake at the sound of his alarm. He quickly reaches over and taps his phone to quiet it, your quiet moan vibrating across his skin.

He smiles at the sensation, but he really has to go to work and you’re currently laying on top of him. You usually got into bed after him and since Harry typically fell asleep on his stomach, you would crawl on top of his back, kissing his shoulders as you settle on your stomach and wrapping your arms around his abdomen.

You were most affectionate when you were sleepy, always wanting a kiss, whining when Harry stopped playing with your hair, asking him to hold you. Harry thought it was adorable (he hadn’t taken you for someone who’d want a cuddle in bed) but it became sort of an inconvenience when he had to wake up before you.

“Hey,” He whispers now, “I’m gonna slide you off my back now, alright?”

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anonymous asked:

I love your writing! Can you write a harry imagine where he wakes up one morning feeling really sick and not well at all but he doesn't want to disappoint his fans and cancel a show just from sickness so he carries about his day not telling you he's feeling ill but you can tell something is off and harry is being really weird and clingy and looks sick.. eventually he feels so bad that he has to tell you? Thanks!

Not Just Allergies

You had your suspicions the night before. He had collapsed onto the couch with a warm cup of tea after he’d gotten home, and had remained mostly quiet as you cooked dinner and went about your daily activities. You’d even caught him dozing off on the couch a few times, only to be startled awake and claim he was only resting his eyes when you came into the room.

Later that night, you curled up with him on the couch to watch the episodes of your favorite show you’d missed throughout your busy weeks. He rested his head on your shoulder, letting you hold him. It was when he fell asleep, only twenty minutes into the first episode, that you thought something might be wrong.

You sighed and quickly paused the episode, pressing the home button on your phone and seeing that it was barely past 8 o'clock. Harry usually wasn’t one to go to bed this early, especially not when he knew he’d be spending the night cuddling with you on the couch and stealing kisses from your lips every time you fast-forwarded through commercials.

You rubbed his arm, trying to wake him up slowly so you could make sure he was feeling alright and find some kind of medicine if he wasn’t. He groggily opened his eyes, looking up at you with exhaustion clear on his face.

“Is everything okay?” You asked quietly, as Harry squinted at the soft light of the lamp in the room. He yawned, tipping his head back and stretching his achy limbs.

“M’ fine. I think I’m going to head up to bed, though.”

Your eyebrows narrowed, rubbing his back as he slowly escaped from your grasp and began to sit up.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? It’s still early.” You pried; the sun had barely set and the dishes from dinner were freshly sitting in the sink. On a normal day, it would be at least a few more hours until you started thinking about going to sleep. He nodded convincingly, standing up off the couch and adjusting the sweatpants on his waist.

“Just tired, that’s all. I’ve been busy.” He assured you, leaning down to kiss your temple gently.

“Finish the episode, don’t worry about coming up with me. Love you.”

You heard his footsteps fade as he made his way up the stairs, and you were left to flip through a few channels on the television until you could find something to entertain yourself with. It wasn’t long before you ended up watching some reruns, and it had barely been over an hour when you found yourself too bored to pay attention any longer. So you slowly trudged upstairs, and peeked into the bedroom before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Harry was practically hidden under the sheets, in a different way than usual. It was common for him to get tangled in the blankets while he tossed and turned throughout the night, but this time Harry had piled up layers of warm fleece on top of his body until he was practically unrecognizable beneath them. You frowned as you walked quietly into the bedroom, slipping into some pajamas and and curling up on your side of the bed, careful not to get too close in case your suspicions were correct and he was getting sick.

The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of drawers being opened and shut clumsily and you weren’t surprised to see Harry fumbling around as he tried to get ready for whatever he had on his schedule that day.

“Good morning.” You yawned, craning your neck upwards to watch him slip a shirt over his freshly showered body.

As he turned towards you, you sat up straighter to get a better look at his face. There were dark bags under his eyes, despite the fact that he’d gotten more than enough sleep, and his skin looked ghostly white. His body moved with a certain slowness, it looked like he was contemplating every step as if his body couldn’t hold him up.

He mumbled a quiet ‘good morning’ in return, rubbing his eyes miserably as he fought off the urge to fall back into the mattress and go back to sleep. You slowly got off the bed, and walked to where he was gathering a few things from the chair where he’d slung a few shirts the night before.

“Hey, mister, I think you’re sick. You’d better stay in and rest today.” You advised.

He flinched away when you reached to press your palm against his forehead, not wanting you to feel the warmth that indicated his temperature. He didn’t know for sure if he was running a fever, but based on the way he felt, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was much higher than normal.

“I’m okay. I feel fine.” He protested, making an effort to stand up straighter and appear like he wasn’t about to double over from his pounding headache and sore limbs. You raised your eyebrows, not believing for a second that he was actually okay. But you left him alone for a few seconds, while you shut the bathroom door behind you to brush your teeth.

When you came back out, Harry had slipped a sweater on over his t-shirt and pulled the sleeves down so they covered his hands.

“Baby, it’s warm outside.”

It was obvious at this point that you were concerned. Meanwhile, he was trying to convince himself that he was alright so he could convince you too.

“I’m just a bit chilly, that’s all. The water was cold in the shower this morning.”

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you knew how stubborn he could be, especially when he had something to get done. You followed him down the stairs and watched him pour himself a cup of black coffee, gulping it down and wincing when the hot liquid burned against his sore throat.

“Harry.”

“I’m fine.”

He gave you an unconvincing smile and patted your shoulder as he walked past you to grab his bag by the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home? I’ll get some blankets on the couch and we can watch a movie. I can start some tea right now too if you-”

He cut you off when he stepped forward, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to look up at his face looming over you. You could see that he just wasn’t himself; he looked completely exhausted and like he could fall apart at any second.

“I’m okay. I feel fine. I’m probably just having some kind of allergy thing, now that it’s spring. Please, baby, don’t give me that look.” He raised his eyebrows when you pouted at him. If there was any way of getting him to stay home, that was your last option.

He pulled away when you flicked your hand up and tried to reach for his forehead again; his reflexes were too quick. It was silly, really, because if there was nothing wrong with him, he’d have no problem with you pressing your hand against his forehead to judge his temperature. You knew he was hiding something, and he knew that you weren’t gullible enough to believe him when he said he was fine.

“Promise me you’ll come home if you feel too sick. I’ll come pick you up if I need to.” You gave in, rubbing his arm as you looked up at him in concern. He nodded, a small smile on his face as he took a step towards the door.

“I promise.”

You quickly hugged him goodbye, and he opted to press his lips against your cheek instead of kissing you. If there was any last confirmation you needed that he was sick, that was it. He would always give you a real kiss goodbye, which usually turned into a short make out session, before he left for the day.

As you busied yourself with things around the house, you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering to the way Harry was acting. You were starting to doubt yourself, thinking that maybe Harry really was just having a flare up of his allergies and there wasn’t anything to worry about. If that was the case, you felt bad for pressing the issue if there was never one to begin with. You’d hate to give him a hard time, but at least that way he knew you cared.

The hours ticked by slowly, and it felt like days had passed by the time you heard Harry’s keys twisting in the lock. Needless to say, you’d spent all day worrying if he was alright.

You tried to give him some space, and continued drying some dishes while you waited for him to kick off his boots and take off his jacket. However, you felt his arms wrap around you from behind sooner than you expected, and you turned around to see his sweatshirt still covering his body and his shoes still on his feet. His nose was red, his eyes looked puffy with exhaustion, and his face was even more pale than it had been that morning.

“Baby…” You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your warmth, closing his eyes in comfort and sniffling softly. You wanted so badly to say ‘I told you so’, but you knew that wasn’t what he needed to hear. He already knew you’d been right.

This time, he didn’t flinch away when you pressed your palm to his head and felt it burning under your touch. Instead, he looked you in the eyes, nearly begging for you to make him feel better. You’d heard it a million times that men were babies when they’re sick, and Harry was definitely no different. There were times when he was able to push past it and get on with his day, like he had that morning, but he always needed a warm pair of arms to hold him and take care of him at the end of the day.

“Go get out of those skinny jeans, okay? I’ll start the tea.” You smiled sympathetically and tried to turn around, but Harry wasn’t having it. He grabbed your wrist, holding your hand against his cheek and letting out a soft whine. Although you should’ve found it annoying, it only made you want to wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle him against your chest like the big baby he was.

“Sweetheart, just let me get the tea, okay? Once you get changed I won’t leave your side the rest of the night, I promise.”

He hesitated, but slowly backed away and trudged up the stairs to change. You got busy with the tea, thankful that he was moving slowly so you had enough time to finish before he returned.

You felt him next to you, his body radiating even more heat than usual, and he dropped his head against your shoulder as you poured some tea into a big mug.

“Good?” You asked, cautiously handing him the tea and looking up at him. He nodded slowly, muttering a soft 'thank you’.

“Let’s get you all comfy on the couch, okay? We can put on a movie if you want.”

He clung to your hand as you walked over to the couch, tightening his grip whenever you tried to pull away to do something. You managed to lay some blankets on the couch and fluff the pillows with only one hand, letting him hold onto you. You knew he must be feeling pretty bad if he was that clingy.

“Wanna be the little spoon.” He sniffled, looking at you with the most innocent expression you swore you were going to melt into a giant puddle on the carpet.

You nodded, laying down first and opening your arms, letting him snuggle his back against you. Propping your head up on some pillows so you could see over his broad back, you handed him the remote so he could pick a movie and let your hands rest over his stomach. The couch wasn’t big, and you were somewhat afraid he’d roll off the edge if he wasn’t pressed so close against you. You slung a warm blanket over you both as you felt him shiver and rubbed his arm gently. His body was stuck so tightly against you so you could feel his slightly labored breathing, and felt his chest rise with each sniffle and cough.

You pressed your lips to his head as he reached for your hand under the blanket. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wasn’t paying attention to the movie that was playing, especially when he flipped around in your arms so his face was nuzzled into your shoulder. With a loud sniffle, he sighed and clung to your body tighter.

“I don’t feel good at all.” He moaned.

You pouted and rubbed your hand over the soft fabric of his shirt, and kissed his forehead again.

“I know, baby. Try to get some sleep. I think it would help.” You whispered, pulling the blanket up slightly so his body was covered and warm.

“Don’t go.” He whined, clutching you tighter and coughing into your neck. You winced, picturing the germs splattering onto your skin, but you stayed as still as you could. You weren’t about to deny Harry comfort.

“I wont, I promise. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He didn’t want to fall asleep, but it was getting hard to fight the urge when he was just so tired and you were so warm and comfy. With your arms around him and his body warm from the tea and blanket, he found it impossible to stay awake any longer.

You couldn’t even complain when his loud snores nearly burst your eardrums, because he was clearly exhausted and all he needed was your warmth and comfort to make things a little better.

Save Yourself (Steve One-shot)

Characters: reader, Steve (Natasha, Bucky, and Sam mentioned)

Summary: After a disastrous mission and harsh romantic rejection, you find yourself in a downward spiral of destructive behavior until Steve steps in and shows you you’re worth saving.

Warnings: All the angst. Little bit of fluff. Mentions of death, sex, destructive behavior, suicide and self harm (mild), alcohol abuse. 

Word Count: 2.4k (another failed drabble, ya’ll. I’m a wordy birdy)

Song Inspiration: Save Yourself by Kaleo

Y/N: Late night angst strikes again! I thought about this song and story all day at work. I’m still working on my multiple series, but needed a little change of pace. I’ve also been missing Steve lately. I was reminded of Chris Evans’ advice about his noisy brain so I included that. This got a lot darker than I anticipated. I have no idea how it’ll be received, so let me know your thoughts. I adore you all!! <3

p.s. Happy Birthday, Chris Evans!!! :) 

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______________________________________________________

Originally posted by dailyteamcap

Ding.

Wincing at the unusually loud noise, you exited the elevator and tiptoed barefoot down the hallway toward your room. Rounding the corner, you placed a hand to the side of your head, hoping the incessant pounding would subside soon. You snuck forward quietly, high heels dangled from your other hand with a clutch purse wedged under your arm. At least you remembered to grab your purse this time.

“Have a nice time last night?”

You cringed. Only ten feet away from your room, you heard the one voice you hoped not the hear coming from the one man you were avoiding. Straightening up from your sneaking position, you slowly turned toward the voice.

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