i think i spent the most effort on this one so far

Someone else on tumblr pointed out that PASSENGERS might have been a more meaningful movie if it was about just THE ONE person dealing with being alone on the ship for the rest of their life.  And if, to cope, they go through and make it a point to learn everything they can about all of the other people on the ship.

And I just keep thinking about this idea.

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I first saw Woodstock running across a turnpike we were turning onto late one dark night in Peachtree Georgia Atlanta. Whilst we were shooting Lawless. He was a stray. 11 weeks old. Oh No we thought. Quickly Go get that dog not even sure it was a dog. Actually.  We stopped the car. It was pitch black literally. I used my phone to light the road in case a car came round the turnpike and couldn’t see me. And malletted me. And I tried to cover some ground but he was fast.  I watched this thing Running towards the highway in the pitch black making good speed towards the cars and lorries and I remember seeing what were its floppy ears bouncing towards the traffic. That dogs had it I thought. I couldn’t make out how big it was what breed it was? Nothing  just those two ears flapping away above a frantic bundle. Hurtling away from us towards impending doom that was for certain. Whatever it was had no road sense and was tearing away. I panicked a little because I couldn’t help it had no name to shout and now it was close to the freeway. I put my fingers to my mouth and I whistled. Loud as I could. The whistle pierced the black. And It stopped the dog dead in its tracks. Then it turned and set eyes on me in one swift movement the ears about faced and the dog decided to run straight at me in the darkness all flashes of teeth and snarling And shrieking. Fuck this I thought that’s not a fkn dog. What am I doing. It ran straight at me and hit me around the legs I couldn’t see but I could hear the distress and I reached down thinking I’m going to get bitten. It was so noisy shrieking. I snatched out expecting to feel teeth and grabbed a fist full of soft neck fur lifted what was actually an incredibly light weight up to my face and shone my phone at it. It was a very small bundle literally sagging from its neck fur with two big brown eyes staring straight into mine. Terrified and utterly quiet. When I got back to the car and sat in my seat he lay on my shoulder and fell asleep. And snored clearly he’d been through a lot. And now the ordeal was seemingly over enough for him to relax. Jessica asked me was he a girl or a boy. Its a boy I said. How do you know. Erm… I can feel his Woodstock. great !!! let’s call him Woodstock!!! And so it was. He was covered in dogshit. Now so was I. And we rode and We took him straight to the pet store to clean him up and buy him well things.., lots of things things dogs need and we walked the aisles the three of us letting him
Choose toys and his lead and his collar. I’ll
Never forget that night. It was wonderful. One minute he was almost dead next terrified. Then picked up by strangers then after He had a power nap in the car, the next he’s walking with his bandy leg John Wayne strut under the strip lighted aisles of this massive pet store happy and playful.
He wore a red bandana that night and from then on and drank religiously from the toilet throughout the night despite having a few bowls of water in the apartment he was every inch a survivor.  He wasnt house broken it didn’t matter we were outdoors mostly and He ate through trailer doors and made many friends and Pnut had him on the lead off set and He became our onset dog  I will always be eternally grateful to Georgia. It gave me the greatest of joys of being a dog owner  And the bestest of friends after Max had passed Woody arrived He was 11 weeks old approx. The first morning we had him. He ate a turd and we chased him to drop it but he gobbled it down because he must have thought we wanted to eat it. So he ate it as fast as he could. We just wanted him to eat some real food. He now had plenty. But there was a survivor in him. That was clear he had had to eat what he could and from then on it was clear he had food issues. But he would never go hungry again. His nickname was Yamaduki. Because he literally yammed down a duki. So Woodstock Yamaduki was his full name. Woody Thomas later Woody two shoes and Wu for short.

Woody came back to the Uk after Jess’s parents kindly looked after him to avoid quarantine they house trained him. He had my tshirt from Warrior. I picked him up from them in California when I shot Dark Knight and thanked them. He hadn’t forgotten me and despite the tireless efforts and hard work that Jessica’s Mum and husband had put into Woody he heard my whistle again and turned and ran at me and didn’t look back. I felt for them but secretly I was very happy that my friend and I were reconnected.  We all had a picnic we jumped into a lake Woody too and then it was clear Woody couldn’t swim and I hauled his ass out of the lake. Dragging him out the shit a second time cemented a pattern. I have hauled him out of rivers and ponds on many occasion since that day such was his love to chase ducks. Especially the Thames.
his rabies titer had cleared he spent a week in quarantine and he became a Londoner.

He was an Angel. And he was my best friend. We went through so much together.
Charlotte worked tirelessly with him to get him through a rough case of separation anxiety. He loved her like his Mum. And when she was pregnant he gaurded her fiercely.

He has been on many sets. Met many crews. Photo shoots premieres made many many friends he was #73 most influential animal in TIME magazine. He beat JAWS. Something we all thought was brilliant. He’s been in peaky blinders. Legend everyone who met him loved him. He didn’t have a bad bone in his body. All he knew was love.

I don’t normally speak out about family and friends but this is an unusual circumstance. Woody affected so many people in his own right so with great respect to his autonomy and as a familiar friendly face to many of you, it is with great great sadness a heavy heart that I inform you that after a very hard and short 6 month battle with an aggressive polymyostisis Woody passed away, two days ago. He was only Age 6. He was Far too young to leave us and We at home are devastated by his loss I am ultimately grateful for his loyal companionship and love and it is of some great comfort that he is no longer suffering. Above all I am completely gutted. the world for me was a better place with him in it and by my side.
To the bestest friend ever. To me and to a family who loved him beyond words and whom he loved without doubt more than I have ever known. Woody was the bestest of journey companions we ever could dream of having. Our souls intertwined forever.

A friend told me

He was special bro, a shining example of man’s best friend. He burnt very very bright and, those that burn very bright sometimes burn half as long.

Thankyou Woody for choosing to find us. We will love you and be with you and you with us forever. Never ever ever forgotten. Your Boy tom xxx I love you beyond words. To the moon and back again and again to
Infinity and beyond. Run with Max now and the Angels. I will see you when I get there.
With all of me I love you. Always Thankyou for
Your love beautiful boy.

You Who... [M] (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble Game Prompt 96. “Here, let me.” with badboy/jock!jeongguk

→ badboy football jk (warning: overstimulation, cumplay, fluff, and fuckingjeonjungkook)
→ 1.4k words prequel part 01 | 02

A/N: i have no idea where this came from, my hand sort of slipped, jfc what have i done 

UPDATE: added the highly-requested prequel as a thank you for 1k+ notes :) make sure to check out Give and Take! It’s a similar AU to this one! 


“There you go, yes, you can do it babe,” Jeongguk encourages, as you bite down on your lip.  

He grins up at you as you move your hips slowly against his, finding the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly the cutest thing ever. 

“J-jeongguk I-I can’t–” you stutter, arms clutching at his bare shoulders as your movements stutter and begin to slow down. But you whimper instead at the loss of friction between your legs and begin to cry tears of frustration as you don’t know whether to continue grinding against him and chase after another orgasm or to stop completely. 

He just laughs huskily from beneath you, and wipes a tear from your cheek and presses a quick peck to your chin as you make up your mind and your movements continue. His head dips down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, painting the skin there in blossoms of red and pink. “Shh,” he grates against your neck, a gentle hand coming up to stroke down your spine and settling on the curve of your hip to firmly help guide you up and down his cock. “you got this.” 

He’s in awe as he watches you desperately move against him, your soft breasts and nipples brushing up against his hard chest and melting him on the spot. It’s been years since he’s met you and only a few months since the both of you finally started having sex, but he’s secretly delighted at how sensitive you are and how desperate you are to pleasure the both of you. He wants to spread you out and fuck you with his fingers and tongue and make you cum over and over until you’re screaming hoarsely or tie you down onto the bed and tease you for hours until you’re begging for him, but he smiles as he relishes in actually convincing you to top him for once. 

Cause this time he’s being a little selfish and pushing the boundaries on how far he can take you because he’s currently coaxing your through your third orgasm and is harder than he’s ever been in his life as he watches you in tears because you’re desperate to reach the peak once again. 

You muffle your cries in in his neck and thread your fingers in his hair as you feel the wave approaching again. “Jeongguk, ‘m gonna come,” you murmur breathlessly, making his dick clench at how fucking submissive you sound to him right now. He whispers sooth encouragements into your ear and moves his hips up to meet yours just right and grazes the spot inside of you that has you cringing and sighing into his neck as he grunts when you clamp down on him and bite gently into his shoulder to muffle your cries. 

The orgasm is stronger than the last two he brought you to with his fingers and his mouth, respectively, as the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips and the sheer rawness of his length brushing your walls makes you clamp down on his girth harder than you’ve ever come before. You cry out and clench your teeth and you’re going through your third intense wave of your orgasm when suddenly he flips the both of you over and pins your hips to his bed and begins to pound into you desperately.

His voice is strained and his hairline slick with sweat as he props himself up above you and glares determinedly into your face thats scrunched up in pleasure, moving his hips against you until he reaches his own peak. You feel his dick twitch once before he’s letting out a loud groan and a strangled cry of your name before his chest pulses for a moment and then he slumps down onto you. 

The both of you are spent and you’re still crying from the overwhelming feeling of being coaxed through three orgasms, with the third being the most intense you’ve ever felt in your life, and your chest heaves from the effort it took. Jeongguk is no better, as he pulls out of you with a groan and kneels between your legs. 

Taking advantage of your slumped and exhausted state, he pushes up a thigh and leans down a bit to see how his cum leaks out of your slit and grasps his cock that hasn’t softened yet with a groan. He gently holds the base of his sensitive member and collects the cum that’s already oozed out onto your thigh with his tip before pushing it back into you. 

You let out a strangled cry, a hand coming up to your mouth so you can muffle your cries, and another desperately clutching onto the wrist holding onto your thigh. He pauses, glancing up at your expression and waiting for you to push him away, but a slight movement of your wrist draws your thigh higher up and his hips a bit closer to you. Grinning, he grasps his softening cock once again and drags his tip from your upper thigh back into your slit, massaging his own cum into your center. 

When he’s completely limp and cringing himself from the overstimulation of pushing himself back into your pussy, he drops your thigh and climbs back up, whispering sweet things into your ear. 

“Baby, you were so good,” he coos, smoothing back your hair and wiping leftover tears. “You deserved that, you were so hot. Here, let me,” he gets a warm towel from the restroom and wipes down your thighs and core before dressing you in his t-shirt (a sight which he’ll never admit he absolutely loves) and pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his chest.

“I loved it.” 

You hiccup, breath short from the sensitivity but also from your tears. “You did?” 

And he thinks its the damned cutest thing ever, how even if you were an innocent girl he’d never thought he’d date, you suddenly turned into a sex starved shyer version of yourself because of him, and then returned back to the sweet blushing one he’d fallen in love with even after hours of rough sex and the dirtiest things. It absolutely fucking thrills him and makes his dick so hard whenever he brings you to too many orgasms, when you reach the point where you dont know whether to stop or continue, or to cry or kiss him. He’s had his fair share of flings and sexcapades, but he knows that the only girl who’s ever made him so whipped, the only girl who’s gotten Jeon Jeongguk wrapped around her tiny little finger, is you. 

You who he began to tease and flirt with as a joke, but ended up falling so damn hard for you after just a partner project where you ended up sympathizing with him and treating him like a real fucking human being, and not the football athlete that everyone worshipped and expected so much out of. You who always looked at him, past his body and face and extracurriculars, and into his soul and really truly understood who he was at the core. You who drunkenly kissed him one night underneath the stars and you who’s cheeks went furiously red when he kissed you again in front of the entire school. You who weren’t afraid of telling him when he was being too cocky or just a dick, and made sure to keep him in check, to the point that his teammates were commenting on what a kind softie he was becoming. 

And finally, you who he found himself hopelessly irrevocably in love with. 

And he looks down at you, with your bare face that’s not really anything special. Eyes, nose, and lips that are average, hair that’s common, and a body that others will say they’ve seen better. But its the way you look at him with your eyes that makes him love you. The way you press your nose against his neck when you cuddle with him and the way you shyly move your soft lips against him when you kiss him goodbye. It’s the way your hair feels like absolute silk underneath his fingers when he runs his hands through them when you’re asleep, and the way your entire body literally lights up and bends at his will and his only

Those are the things, amongst many, that made the high and mighty bad boy Jeon Jeongguk fall in love with you. 

So he cups your face and smiles as he pecks against your lips, peppering your face with them until you giggle and shriek against his attack. Laughing, he draws you close. 

“I did, because I fucking love you.”


Prequel: 01 & 02 [fin], Give and Take[M]

Family’s What You Make Of It

Family’s What You Make Of It | It starts when Dan stumbles through the door of his two bedroom flat with an attractive stranger attached to his mouth, and it ends with, well… a family. Or, the one where Dan is a single father of a three year old, who intends for Phil to be nothing more than a one night stand until he see’s him interact with his daughter for the first time. | Phan | Mature | Smut, self-neglect, implied self-esteem issues, single father Dan | 4,374 Words

Thank you so @phansdick for encouraging me (as always) and then being wonderful and beta’ing for me without me even having to ask ;)

(Ao3 Link)

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Oh Sehun//For Her

Originally posted by veriloquentmind

Summary: The first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are tattooed onto your skin from birth. You hear the words, but in the worst possible situation - he’s in love with your close friend. 
Scenario: Soulmate AU, angst, fluff
Word Count: 5,746

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July’s Featured Game: SLARPG

DEVELOPER(S): Bobby “ponett” Schroeder
ENGINE: RPGMaker VX Ace 
GENRE: RPG, Fantasy
SUMMARY: SLARPG is a short, turn-based RPG following the story of Melody Amaranth, a kindhearted but meek transgender fox who’s decided to learn healing magic and become a paladin. She’s joined by her adventurous girlfriend Allison, as well as their friends Claire (a sarcastic, rule-bending witch)(she is also trans) and Jodie (a dependable, somewhat motherly knight). Over the course of the story, our inexperienced heroes will meddle with forces beyond their control and find themselves responsible for the fate of their quaint little hometown. They’ll also fight some spherical frogs, travel to a forgotten land in the sky, befriend a robot or two, and anger the local librarian. But that should go without saying. 

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

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suddenly everyone’s asking for suggestions I kinda love yall for being so open minded??? okay bb idk how you’re not a shinee stan yet, but I’m gonna turn you over to the dark side so grab a snack and take a seat and let’s start~~


Meet: SHINee aka the group that saved kpop

Originally posted by sataeminism

• A 5 member group who debuted in 2008 under SM Ent. with their legendary song, Replay (I still cry when I listen to it esp with RDD right after)
• they’ve said many times that business comes before their personal friendships with each other, and we all believe this is why they’ve stuck together for so long and had an amazing career so far
• some members have gotten in fights during their rookie years, but ofc now you can tell they’re basically like family to each other and they’re each others biggest fans
• the members are all amazing actors, songwriters, producers, and singers and all are hella multi-talented


Meet: Onew aka grandpa Jinki

Originally posted by duevangogh

• oldest, the chillest yet most savage leader
• almost killed Jonghyun once when he flung a pen at his eye, he was aiming for Minho
• such a great actor wow
• has the most beautiful and breathtaking smile you can almost hear your heart breaking when he does it, esp when they perform 1 of 1
• he’s legit so chill and laid back and lets his grandkids roast each other, but he’ll come for you if you disrespect him or any of them
• he’s enlisting in the military soon, pls pray for him and support him


Meet: Jonghyun aka the misfortunes of bling bling

Originally posted by partycardigann

• probably the most pervy and sexual idol out there (ye I know yall seen that video on him n taemin tsk tsk tsk me 2)
• but he’s actually a puppy who’s been let off the leash??? Like he’s a sweetheart
• is in love with key and he’s their biggest shipper
• wrote so many sexual songs and gave them to EXO and Taemin “here u go I have like another 27 songs stashed under my pillow, u go sing about being a playboy”
• almost died krumping bc Minho sprayed the whole floor with water whole jjong was jumping
• is SHINee’s biggest fanboy and he’s an actual sunshine (he’s the shortest too but I don’t wanna point that out bc he’s butthurt about it shh)


Meet: Key aka wtf are u wearing u shady binch 

Originally posted by celes-tae

•  yall better not miss any of his instagram lives bc that’s when he’s about to spill all the tea on everyone
•  loves makeup n fashion n himself n his dogs <3 actual queen of beauty skin care and shading everyone
•  he’s a great actor as well, and it’s like he’s even more savage when the rest of shinee isn’t around and he’s doing solo stuff
•  his vocal range is actually amazing and we’ll fight anyone who thinks he’s not as talented as the others
•  supposedly he made out with Jonghyun while he was drunk one time, I ??? 
•  babys taemin like he’s 2 yrs old, he used to be so protective of him and he still is and I’m a mess


Meet: Minho aka flaming charisma

Originally posted by manwalage

• the most competitive idol and no one can tell me any different
• a soccer superstar, his dad is a coach too…and he blesses us with so many sports campaigns and CF’s (well he’s like one of the top models in Korea rn too just throwin that out there)
• it really hurts me when people say he only got into shinee for his looks
• he’s so talented and takes his career and the group very seriously, despite him being competitive sometimes, he’s really mature and every kpop group who matters look up to him
• will diss you and burn a hole through ur head if you insult him
• what’s image??? What’s reputation???? Shinee knows no limits, their mission is to expose everyone


Meet: Taemin aka SHINee’s actual baby

Originally posted by herewegobebe

• he’s not actually innocent bruh don’t let his face fool you…but then again he’s a real angel sometimes
• shinee lets him get away with roasting them bc he’s their son n they love him (plus he never talks or opens his mouth unless he’s about to expose someone)
• he gets shy and nervous very easily and he’s mentioned that sometimes he has bad anxiety when promoting alone for his solos
• has been besties with EXO’s Kai for like 12 years and they love each other so much it hurts (pls watch their Pretty Boy performance I beg u)
• shinee used to walk him 2 school everyday bc he was bullied
• everyone in the industry who’s passionate about dancing looks up to him bc he’s such an amazing performer, he puts his heart n soul into every dance and performance I actually am in love with this man help me I can’t get up
(I’m sorry I wrote so much about him abshdjdk I could write essays about why I love him)


they were the group that got me into kpop in the first place with RDD and they’ll always have a special place in my heart, pls love them<3

for you pt. 7 [m]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Badboy!Taehyung, angst

Word Count: 5.3k

Originally posted by vminv


Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

Six Months Later

You walked down the hallway of the academic building slowly, the weight of the paper in your bag causing you to drag your feet. Each footstep bringing more and more uncertainty about the next chapter of your life. You noticed that the door to your professor’s office was locked, and a small sigh of relief escaped your lips.

You didn’t want to have to explain to him how all your interviews had turned to dead ends. You didn’t want to have to explain how you were still going to be stuck in this town. Stuck in the memories of the past year when all you wanted to do was move forward. There was nothing that you wanted more than leaving. If he could leave, so could you. But instead you had gotten hired at the coffee shop in which you first met him. Left to repeat the same memories over and over again.

And as you left the building for the last time, you didn’t feel any different. The emptiness that had filled your chest the day he left was still there. You held your phone up to your ear, the familiar number having been dialed like clockwork. “We are sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.” seared through your ears after the first dial tone.

You kicked at a rock while waiting to cross the street. There was no reason for you to continue to call that number. But there was still a large part of you that hoped he would come back. That when you called his voice would saying hello on the other end. But no one had heard from him. Not you. Not the boys. It was like he had erased himself from your universe.

Taehyung crept into your mind during your most vulnerable moments. Like when the sun hit your skin in the middle of the afternoon, reminding you of the hours you would spend sitting next to him in the front seat of his car. Driving the two of you around while blasting old music and singing along so out of tune that everyone else would stare at you from their cars.

You missed him when you couldn’t get a jar open, not because he was strong enough to open them. But because you would hunch over in fits of laughter as you watched him turn red in the face while trying to open it. He wasn’t much of a muscle pig, but you thought his effort was the cutest.

He was in the worn out t-shirt hidden in the back of your closet. A piece of clothing you didn’t know you had until your nose caught the smell of his cologne the first time Mina came over to your apartment to do your laundry since you hadn’t left your bed in weeks. You had her put it down, worried that if she held it for too long you would forget what he smelled like when he held you.

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Lately, I’ve been seeing something slightly bothersome around studyblr, and I just want to say something about it. Basically, there seems to be this attitude cropping up (or at least that I’ve seen/heard about more frequently these days) that your grades reflect your level of effort, or that by simply working hard and putting more effort in, your grades will automatically improve. I disagree.

Yes, there are certainly some cases where you’re already proficient in a class and if you just put in the extra time to study, you’d do better. But there are some classes where grades are not a measure of the level of effort you put in, and therein lies my biggest issue with the grading system and these types of studyblr posts in general. This was certainly the case with me in honors physics (so bear with me, because I have a very large point to make with the following anecdote).

Personally, I’ve always had “easy A” classes where I don’t have to work hard; my brain and academic strengths simply favor me in that particular subject, so with minimal effort I can still be top in the class. And then I see peers who go in for tutoring every day, who spend hours studying and meeting with teachers, who basically invest 100 times the effort I do… and still can’t get above a B or C.

This is not to mention people who take classes that are “reaches” and, accordingly, don’t do so well – even though they work hard – because it’s a challenge. Then there are those who take lower level classes but have capabilities beyond that – and don’t need to put effort in – thus giving them an unfairly easy A. Does their A mean that they work harder? That they’re a better student, studier, scholar, intellectual? Hell to the no.

English is one of those “easy A” classes for me. I’m just innately strong in verbal-linguistic intelligence (going off of Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences), so I’ve literally never had to study for English tests or reading comp/writing. But put me in other classes, particularly science classes? Well, that’s something else entirely.

Which brings me to junior year honors physics. 

Guys, I studied my ASS off, for hours at a time. I desperately Skyped people in my class nearly every night to try to understand the homework and spent every lunch block trying to master the material. I met with my physics teacher and tutor all the time and had a dozen anxiety attacks (and I mean actual, diagnosed anxiety attacks) over that one class because I tried harder than I’ve ever tried… and I got a B for the whole year. I was the one who dreaded seeing that red number scrawled on my test, who shoved it into my backpack before others could see and blinked back tears, thinking, But I studied so hard!

Physics was a nightmare I was desperate to forget by the end of junior year. But then a couple things happened that shocked me, and I instantly thought of them when I read some of these posts about good effort = good grades.

Now, my physics teacher, who has a reputation for being on the strict side and being a tough grader, has had four teaching assistants (TAs) in five years of teaching. Most science teachers at my school have as many as five a year. At the end of 11th grade, after I’d scraped by with a B in his class, he asked me if I wanted to be a TA. Out of the entire grade – out of the multitude of students I’d watched parade past with straight A’s and “that test was so easy” and “I barely studied” and “sorry Edye I don’t know how else to explain it to you” – he chose me.

I think I (very graciously) blurted out, “What? Why?” because I was so taken aback. He said that I was hardworking and dedicated – that I’d always gone above and beyond in my studying and meeting with him – and he wanted someone like me to be a TA. I was flattered, and I thoroughly enjoyed being a TA during senior year. (Also, anyone who doesn’t think he’s super nice is incredibly wrong. He’s awesome.)

Two years later, I got to read his college recommendation for me. Bear in mind that I was not, based on my grades, a top student in his class. And this is what he wrote for his opening line:

Honors Physics is a rigorous course that draws from the strongest students in the junior class and Edye proved to be one of those students.

What? He had seen my report card, right? I got worse grades than all of my friends. I got a goddamn 66 on a test in that class, my all time low. He continued:

One of the many examples of Edye’s commitment [is when she] had been ill and missed quite a bit of school and consequently had a lot of school work to make up in all of her classes.  Many students in this situation would take one or more classes pass / fail for the quarter; Edye would not take the pass/fail option and insisted she complete all the work and complete it with the grade she would earn.  She did in fact complete all of the work and with a B-.  A remarkable accomplishment considering she kept current with her studies while making up all of the missed work.

He called a B-minus “a remarkable accomplishment.” Did he say “too bad she didn’t put enough effort in, which was reflected in a B-minus” or “she only got a B-minus, so I guess she didn’t try hard enough”? No, he praised the amount of effort I put in, even though I didn’t even get a “good” grade.

I’m hardly one to knock putting in effort, but what bothers me is that this attitude, that effort = good grades, has the potential to make people feel bad. To feel like if they aren’t acing a class even though they’re studying harder than anybody else, well, they just aren’t trying hard enough. Yes, grades are important. So is effort. But they are not always directly correlated. As is evidenced by my story, sometimes people who get lower grades have worked even harder then those who got high grades. And, if they’re lucky, this will be acknowledged. (I can certainly attest that while I’ve been praised by English teachers for my writing skills and intellect, they’ve never singled me out for putting in an exceptional amount of effort. They know that while I’m proactive and responsible, I don’t try super hard because, well, I don’t really need to in order to get a good grade.)

Encourage other students to put in a reasonable amount of effort; recommend different study methods. But don’t tell them that good effort = good grades. Teach them to measure their success by looking at how productive they’re being, how proactive they are in reaching out for help, how dedicated they are to their education, how resilient they are in the face of obstacles, how committed they are to school. Admire those who refuse to take the easy way out, even if they only get a C. These qualities, which are far more important than a 4.0, just don’t always translate directly into good grades.

I dislike seeing this message all over Tumblr, that to get better grades you just have to try harder – which carries with it the implication that if you don’t get good grades, it’s because you aren’t putting enough effort in – when I know from firsthand experience that this is not always true. I strongly believe in trying to be the best student you can be, rather than trying to be in the top 5%. But in the end, do what works for you. Just take it with a grain of salt.

And to my followers, and anyone reading this… please know that, if you work hard regardless of your grades, you are already a model student, and you are absolutely someone I look up to.

Spoiled

REQUEST: A one shot where it’s your birthday and Harry wakes you up for breakfast in bed and spoils the hell out of you with loads of gifts and kisses and cuddles?

REQUEST: Can you do a fluffy fluff blurb or one-shot with Harry?

REQUEST: Can I pretty please request a fluffy Harry one shot? Love you Yeli

REQUEST: A fluffy blurb or something because I am craving your writings


Mushed all these together. Love you all! xx



You woke up to the feeling of Harry’s nose nuzzling into your cheek, humming a particular tune while his arms wound around your waist.

The two of you had been dating for a couple of years now, long enough that you spent at least fifty percent of the time at Harry’s place. And if you’d learned one thing about Harry, it was that he absolutely loved birthdays. He loved celebrating them, counting down to them, and he enjoyed other people’s more than he did his own. 

So when your birthday rolled around, you weren’t surprised that he was waking you up at the crack of dawn (or eleven a.m., if we’re being realistic).

Despite your best efforts to not smile you found yourself crinkling your nose, corners of your lips tilting upwards as you squirmed in his embrace. Now that you had given away that you were awake you turned your body so that your back was facing him, reaching to grab his pillow from across the bed and hug it to your chest with a soft grunt.

“Hey, m’right here, I’m more comfy than the pillow,” he complained, his fingertips digging into the soft pudginess of your belly. You squirmed once more, eyes still closed.

“Pillow doesn’t wake me up,” you teased, worming closer against the soft fabric. Harry audibly sighed, his voice at your ear.

“Alright, I’ll just put away all these presents, then…” Harry replied a bit melodramatically, starting to unravel his arms from around your body.

You suddenly opened one eye and turned your head to look back at him, your hands immediately trapping his against your belly so that he couldn’t escape.

“Presents?” You repeated, both eyes now wide open. You were like a little kid at Christmas.

“Tha’s what I said, innit?” he snickers, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against your lips. You puckered them to press a kiss against it, grinning. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before hopping off of you.

When you shifted around to sit up properly on the bed, he was holding a tray of what breakfast foods accompanied by a glass of apple juice. There was also a cup of water that held a single yellow rose in it, causing an elated grin to appear on your features.

“First thing’s first,” he said, setting the tray in your lap and reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Happy birthday, princess.”

“Thank you,” you grinned, feeling like the luckiest girl alive.

Keep reading

Fight (Fuck) Me! [Stiles x Reader]

A/N: just a little heads up, Theo’s a complete dick in this one. Also, if u guys have any ideas for stuff plz let me know.


Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Theo x Reader


Warning: abusive relationships, asshole Theo, smut (female fingering, oral - male receiving, the deed etc)


Summary: You and Stiles aren’t the best of friends, but you know he’s a pretty decent guy in the end.


***


“Are you fucking serious?” You yell out in shock and hear Stilinski irritable ‘Shut it!’ from halfway across the house. You can’t be bothered with how you’re dressed when you stomp over to him, holding out your bottle of moisturizer.


“Stilinski!” You shout and Stiles groans loudly. He’s lounging on the living room couch playing Xbox and dressed in a tight white shirt with some black jeans.


“What are you bitching about now?” He asks, not bothering to look away from his game. Your mouth drops open in shock at his lack of response and you stand with your arms crossed.


“I’m talking about this, you assfuck!” You scream, throwing your now ruined bottle at him. Stiles finally looks away from his game when the sticky, half open bottle hits him square in the chest. He holds it away from himself with two fingers.


“The fuck?” He asks, looking up at you. You stare him down, seething with anger with your arms crossed under your breasts.


“You!” You accuse. “You did this! And your gonna repay me for it. Do you have any idea how much that shit costs?”


You and Stiles have been living together for about three weeks now. Your dad and the Sheriff are close friends and you needed a place to stay while your dad was out of town on business. Immediately, he sent you to Beacon Hills, where you would attend Beacon High, and unfortunately, have to live with the Sheriff and his asshole son.


Only, that asshole son was a total fucking babe.


A total fucking babe that was staring at you with his mouth agape.


“What?” You snap angrily. It is only then that it occurs to you what exactly you look like. Your hair and parts of your body are dripping wet, having just walked out of the shower moments earlier, and the only thing covering your modesty is your hot pink Victoria’s Secret bra and thong, which you were wearing for a date tonight.


Stiles continues to stare at you, and makes a considerable effort to maintain eye contact. You huff, which you know makes your chest flair out. “Take a good look, Stilinski, coz that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get.”


With those final words, you grab the moisturizer bottle from his hands and storm back into the shower, temper flaring. You can feel his eyes on your ass all the way.


When you’re in the bathroom, you lock the door and make a quick decision to look extra fuckable tonight. You’re sure that Theo will appreciate your efforts. And if you slip back into the shower and spend thirty extra minutes with your fingers in your pussy, thinking of the hungry look in Stiles’ eyes moments earlier then it’s nobody’s business.


****


When you do finally emerge from the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a little proud. You’re wearing a tight white top that dips into a considerably low V with a red mini skirt that falls halfway down your thighs. Your hair is done in a way that you know makes you look gorgeous and your makeup, having taken about an hour to do, is fucking on point.


You walk to your temporary room and rummage through the closet the Sheriff gave you until you find a pair of brown, heeled boots. Slipping them on, you walk to the mirror and admire the way they elongate your legs.


“Hey, you done or not coz there’s-”


The voice stops short and you turn to see Stiles standing in your doorway, mouth agape. He’s staring at you as though he can’t believe what’s in front of him, and you take the opportunity to reach down to grab your bag and get your perfume, ass in the air.


“What is it?” You ask, flipping your hair to the side so that you can spray your neck. From the corner of your eye, you can see the way Stiles follows the movement, licking his lips. For a second, you think he might just pounce and attack you right there.


It’s difficult to ignore the wave of desire that courses through you at the thought.


Stiles finally snaps out of his daze when you place the perfume bottle down loudly. He clears his throat awkwardly and pretends that he hasn’t been outright staring. “Your, um- Your date’s here.”


You nod and grab your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you notice that Stiles is still leaning against the door frame. “Yes?” You ask, albeit impatiently.


“How long’ve you been with this guy?” He asks, going for casual but it’s a near miss. You roll your eyes.


“None of your business, dad,” You reply pointedly, making a move to push past him. Stiles is quicker and stronger, so he easily stops you with two firm hands on your shoulders.


“I’m serious, (Y/N),” When he speaks you realise that he actually is. “Who is this guy to you? Do you trust him?”


There’s a long moment when you truly don’t know what to do. For the most of it, your conversations with Stiles have been clipped and short, or irritated and in the form of shouting contests. You haven’t heard him speak this sincerely before.


“Why?” You ask because you honest to God want to know. Stiles looks contemplative, as though he’s not sure whether or not to tell you something. The moment a decision crosses his face, a loud honk of a car is heard outside.


“Just-” Stiles sighs, and you notice that his hands are still on your shoulders. “Just be careful, alright? If there’s one person in the world that I don’t trust, it’s Theo Raeken.”


After a small nod, Stiles moves out of the way and you brush past him, walking out the door to where Theo is waiting in his car. You barely realise what’s going on around you, your mind still reeling from Stiles’ sudden attitude change.


“Do I smell?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Looking to your left, you see Theo smiling at you gently. The car’s stopped and you realise that you’ve spent the entire ride to the restaurant in silence.


“I’m sorry?” Because there’s no way you heard that right.


“Do I smell?” He asks again and you shake your head. “Maybe it’s the outfit. A bit much?”


You smile and take a second to look at what he’s wearing. Theo cleans up nice. He’s in a blue button down with a pair of black slacks and some Oxfords on his feet. He looks really good.


“You’re incredibly hot.” You say with a smirk and Theo barks out a laugh. He steps out of the car and moves to your side, opening the door for you before you can’t protest.


“You’re pretty hot yourself, babe,” He whispers in your ear as you stand, one hand smacking your ass before he closes the door.


Your eyes dance around the restaurant and suddenly you feel really bad for the car ride. Mistaking your guilt, Theo walks you towards the table with a hand on the small of your waist, murmuring in your ear: “Don’t worry. The manager owes me a favour.”


He pulls your chair out for you and you sit, feeling a slight blush form on your neck. The table is set for two, in the balcony with no others. It’s completely private. There’s a rose in the centre and the classical music from inside filters through the air.


“This is really sweet.” You tell him when he takes his place in front of you. He smiles bashfully.


“Well, we needed some way to celebrate out one month anniversary.” You grin but can’t help but feel extremely guilty, thinking about how you’d spent the morning.


“Hey, what’s your deal with Stiles?” The words are out of your mouth before you can’t stop them. The smile on Theo’s face falls and immediately you regret it.


“My deal?” He asks, and immediately you know that you’ve crosses a line. In your four weeks of dating, you quickly learned when and when not to question Theo, and when to immediately back away before he gets mad. “What gives you the idea I have anything to do with him?”


“Nothing.” You say quickly, picking up a menu. “He just seemed to recognize you as all. Must’ve been my imagination.”


“Yeah, you really need to put a handle on that.” He murmurs, picking up his menu as well. You pointedly ignore the comment and take far longer to read the menu than you normally would have.


“Good evening.” The waiter, a guy who’s probably around 19 with brown eyes and combed back blonde hair, greets gently. “My name is Evan and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear out specials?”


You were about to say yes, because you really didn’t know what to order, when Theo spoke for you. “That won’t be necessary.” He said. “I’ll have the Steak platter, extra gravey. Babe?”


“Chicken Burger with fries.” You reply, because that seems simple enough. Just as Evan is about to write it down, Theo interrupts.


“You sure?” He asks, his voice casual but still implicit. He reaches under the table and tugs slightly at your love handles, and you go red. “Make it a Greek salad.”


Evan gives you a look, and you can see that the man is barely containing his disgust at your boyfriends actions. “Greek salad.” You confirm. Evan gives a slight nod, though he looks slightly troubled, before picking up the menus.


“Anything to drink?”


“Coke.” Theo replies distractedly, looking down at his phone.


“Ice tea.” You say, and Theo raises a brow. “Diet.” You quickly add, and are rewarded when Theo shoots you a dazzling smile which you can’t help but return, albeit hesitantly.


Evan nods and gives a beaming, fake smile. “Anything else?”


“No.” Theo says, but Evan doesn’t move. You look up and see that he’s waiting for your answer.


“No, thank you.” You smile, and Evan returns it. It looks a little more genuine, if a bit pitying and you quickly look away before Theo gets mad. Evan tell you two that the meal should take only 10 minutes, 20 at the most, before disappearing back into the hotel.


“I don’t like the way that guy was looking at you.” Theo says, and you clench your vista in your lap to help keep your composure. “Got no right to be looking at my girl like that.”


You can’t help but smile. Despite everything, Theo is very possessive of you, and it honestly makes you feel like he genuinely cares about losing you. It’s also the reason why you could never leave him. He made that pretty clear.


“I love you.” You say gently, and Theo smiles, reaching a hand across the table and taking yours.


“I love you too.” And his voice is too sincere to doubt. “I should ask for another waiter.”


“That’s-” You pause. “Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” You can see Theo’s eyes darken and fear tinges at your fingertips. “I mean, we came out here to have a good time. We don’t need any drama.”


“Course you’d say that.” He says, eyes still dark. You want to pull your hand away from his, but he’s got a tight grip on your wrists and it fucking *hurts*. “Bet you’re loving all this attention they’re giving you. The waiter, the Stilinski boy. You’re a little slut who’ll open her legs for anyone who asks nicely enough. Babe, you need to realise something. They only want you because they know they can’t have you. They’re just trying to challenge the Alpha Male - me, and I won’t let them think I’m weak just because you can’t keep your tits to yourself. Understood?”


You look down to hide the tears streaming over your cheeks. No reply comes from your mouth, because you know that it’ll be choked and wet and Theo absolutely hates seeing you cry.


“Answer me!” He slams your joint hands on the table and you wince. You look up and try to contain yourself when you speak.


“I understand.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and Theo smiles.


“Good.” He says. “Now wipe your face. You look like shit when you cry.”


***

You try your damnest not to make a sound as you open the front door with shaky hands. Despite your best efforts, you and Theo still got into a fight, and he showed you as much mercy as he had all previous nights.


The fight (which had been about Stiles, of all things) hadn’t lasted very long. You weren’t very edger to fight back, your guilt from your earlier interactions with the guy still weighing down heavily upon your chest. Theo had misread it, and seemed to think there was something going on between you and Stiles. Words were yelled and punches were thrown but you walked out of it okay. Safe for a mean looking bruise on you jaw, which would blossom into a deep purple mark tomorrow, and a few cuts and scrapes, you were untouched.


You knew, however, that despite this being one of the better nights, your injuries would not go unnoticed by Stiles or the Sheriff, which was why you had waited until all the lights were out to try and get in.


Without much thought, too tired and in too much pain, you push the door open and make a b-line for the kitchen. Immediately, you pull out a bag of something frozen and stick it on your cheek, rummaging through for some ice cream.


“What the fuck?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Almost immediately, your hands fly to your face as a defence mechanism, but it isn’t necessary. It’s just Stiles.


Stiles, standing there in nothing but some black shorts with a baseball bat in his hands.


“Umm.” You say stupidly because the sight of Stiles’ abs has rendered you as such. Stiles drops the bat and walks towards you, looking concerned.


“What are you doing?” He asks as he walks to you, eyes brimming with worry. “It’s three in the fucking morning.”


“Ice cream.” You say lamely, but Stiles isn’t listening. His eyes are glued to the packed of frozen peas in your hand that you’re trying to hold against your jaw and wrists at the same time.


“What happened?” He asks, slowly pulling the bag of peas away. You prepare yourself for the look of disgust on his face when he sees the injury, so it’s very unexpected when he looks even more concerned.


“I fell.” You lie easy. Stiles doesn’t look away from your injuries, now choosing to inspect your wrists, which are bruised all round and is bleeding in a small area.


“I’m not stupid.” He says, and you’re shocked by the sincerity in his voice. “I know Theo did this to you. I know he’s the reason you’ve been coming home with bruises all month long. What I don’t know is why you haven’t said anything about it.”


You wince as Stiles prods your jaw gently. He looks contemplative, but eventually settled for sitting your down at the kitchen table. “Wait.” He says, then runs off. You resist the urge to scream.


This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one could know what Theo was doing because they could never understand. All they would do is judge you for not leaving, and give you pitying looks all the while thinking that you must’ve done something to deserve it. No one understood, least of all Stiles.


“Here.” You look up to see Stiles, hand stretched out with a bucket of ice. Confusion clouds your features and Stiles gives you a gentle smile. He puts the bucket down on the table and brings your right hand towards it, pushing it in.


It’s extremely cold but also soothing. You sigh gently as your wrist is finally given the attention it deserves. You’re about to thank Stiles before he leaves, only to find that he’s not leaving at all. He’s kneeling next to you and opening what looks to be a first aid kit.


“That’s not-” You try but Stiles silences you with a look.


“It’ll help.” He says. “I promise.”


The older boy opens a jar of sorts and the smell of herbs drifts to the air. He dips two fingers into the salve and gently brings them to your face, applying it to the spot with the utmost caution.


“It stinks.” He says. “But it’ll reduce the swelling. Give me your wrists.”


You oblige deftly, raising your bruised wrists from the tank of melting ice to where Stiles is kneeling half-naked next to you. He drys your wrists off with a kitchen towel before applying a rather thick layer of the salve onto your wrist, massaging it gently.


“Better?” He asks in a whisper as he stands, after five minutes of comfortable silence. Suddenly, you are pulled back into the real world and are faced with the truth. You had just shared this moment with Stiles, with the guy you had screamed that you hated at your boyfriend before he punched you in the face. Theo would be pissed, so fucking pissed, but you would deal with that tomorrow.


“Much.” You say, and make a move to stand, but you’re unsteady. You’re feet wobble in your brown heels and Stiles quickly wraps his arms around you, stabilizing your body before you fell.


“How bout something to eat?” He asks, “I mean, you could go to bed like this and all, but for some reason I don’t think you’ll wake up in the morning.”


“Bet you’d love that.” You say, feeling some of your wit returning. Stiles smiles.


“Nah.” He says. “Then who’s gonna be there to falsely accuse me of stealing moisturizer?” You laugh loudly and Stiles smiles. “Um, there’s a 24 hour pizza place a couple of minutes away. We could go there.” He suggest and you shrug, realizing how close you are. You pull back.


“Hey man, it’s your town.” You say and Stiles nods.


“Eddie’s it is, then.” The two of you stand but you hesitate, looking down at your outfit.


“Give me one second.” You say and run up the stairs into your bedroom. For a moment, you wonder if you should dress up but ultimately decide that it’s not worth it. You swap out your skirt and top for a pair of sweats and a baggie t-shirts, and your heels for your beat up converse. You grab your phone as you walk down, pulling your hair from it’s tangles and into a messy bun.


“I look like shit but who’s gonna see?” You ask when you walk back into the kitchen. Stiles looks at you laughs.


“You look beautiful.” He says, and grabs his car keys. You eyes widen.


“Aren’t you gonna put something on?” You ask as Stiles stand in front of you, still wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. He shrugs.


“It’s hot.” He says simply, walking out the door. When you just stay right where you are with your mouth agape, he pops back inside. “You coming or what?”


“I’m gonna regret this,” You say as you follow him out the door, noticing that he left behind his baseball bat. As you walk out into the front yard, you see Stiles in his blue Jeep, looking far too excited for a midnight drive for pizza. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna regret this.”


The ride to Eddie’s, as Stiles had called the place, is filled with stupid small talk and light arguments. (You think that Batman could win in a fight against Iron Man. Stiles strongly disagrees) The two of you listen to crappy music and Stiles sings along at the top of his voice, which you realize is actually pretty good, and you join him. Soon, the two of you are laughing after having belted out the final notes to Smashmouth’s 'I’m a Believer’ in the Eddie’s parking lot, while people look at you like you’re mad.


“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you clutch your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a worse butchering of a Shrek song in my life!”


Stiles laughs, loud and free, and it’s like music to your ears. “I think that guy in the ugly Mini would agree with that.” He says though a new burst of laughter and you look to your right to see a very disgruntled looking man in a piss green mini looking at the Jeep and it’s occupants like it was something he stepped in.


“Fuck off!” You scream through the window and throw the finger at him. The guy, despite probably bring in his mid twenties, looks positively insulted and immediately get in his car and leaves. Stiles bursts out laughing.


“You know,” he says. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch at the start we could’ve been friends much sooner.” He smirks when he says it, and you can feel Stiles’ eyes raking over your form.


“Friends?” You ask, keeping a sultry edge to your voice. “Is that what we are?”


Stiles smirks, and you take the moment to fully appreciate him. His skin is stretched taught over his muscles and you love the way the dim light of the parking lot reflects off of them, making him look all kinds of delicious. His whiskey eyes are dark with lust, and you notice the way his pupils are huge and a vein sticks out slightly from his neck. You want to lick it.


“Let’s go.” You say and promptly step out of the car, taking a deep breath. You really shouldn’t, not after Stiles had seen you so emotional and vulnerable, but you can’t help it. He’s a fucking babe, and you want nothing more than for him to pound you like there’s no tomorrow.


Stiles follows out after you and the two of you walk into the place together. You know you must look like a pair if drunk lovers, with your faces flushed and your attire being what it was, but right now you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.


He leads the way, taking you to a booth that’s on the edge in the centre of the Pizzeria. The place is mostly empty, safe for an elderly woman who’s out with her husband, giggling like teenagers. You grin at them. Stiles walks around like he knows the place well, and doesn’t even pick up a menus when he sits down.


A lovely middle aged woman walks up to you two a few minutes later, and you’ve decided on your order. The woman, Delores as her name tag tells, smiles broadly when she approaches.


“What’ll it be, sweetie?” She asks, sounding cheerful. Stiles turns to her, offended, and for a second you think he’s gonna yell before a broad grin swipes across the woman’s face.


“Sweetie?” He asks, “Lola I’m offended. Whatever happened to hottest ass in town?” You snort at that and the woman gives you a wink.


“Don’t worry babe. You’re still the sweetest piece of ass I know.” She says, laughing. “I just didn’t want your girlfriend over here to get jealous.” Stiles looks at you, grinning and licking his lips, looking all kinds of sexy and adorable.


“I’m not the jealous type.” You say and he laughs at that. The waitress, Lola as Stiles had so lovely called her, grins broadly. You and Stiles stare at each other from across the table, each challenging the other to look away first.


“Now now,” Lola interrupts. “No eye fucking just yet. Lemme first get you order.” You look away abruptly, going red and Lola laughs good-naturedly. “Okay, so usual for you?” She asks and Stiles nods. “And you, sweetie?”


“Give me the greasiest, most carb filled pizza that you guys make.” You say, looking at Stiles and wondering for a fleeting moment if he’ll object or look at you with disgust. Instead, he just raises an impressed eyebrow.


Lola laughs. “Your girl’s a keeper.” She says to Stiles.


“Damn right she is.” He replies, softer, looking deep into your eyes. There’s a moment where you know that you have a choice. You could correct him now, you could stop this by simply looking away or saying no, but you don’t.


“Best believe it.” You murmur, but by the way Stiles smirks slightly, you know he’s heard you. Lola offers you both two large milkshakes, she says it’s on the house but Stiles will pay for it anyway, and walks off, looking entirely too satisfied.


“I used to come here when I was little.” Stiles says, looking around the place. “My dad would drop me off here coz there wasn’t anyone at home and I was too small to stay by myself. Lola would babysit me, stuff me with junk food and all kinds of shit an eight year old wasn’t supposed to be eating. She’s practically family.”


You nod, smiling slightly. “She seems nice.” You say, then think again. “Wait, she seems really nice. Why is it that she likes you again?”


Stiles scoffs, offended. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly likeable, thank you very much.”


You smirk. “Yeah, that’s why it took me a whole month to warm up to you.”


“No, no, see that’s different.” He’s smiling, oh so softly and it makes your insides flutter. “See, I had a plan with you. It was all set to schedule. If everything goes on track, you’ll be falling in love with me by the first day of summer.”


“Is that right now?” You asks, sitting up a little straighter. Stiles smirked slightly, and you know that he can see down your cleavage. “How’s that working out for you?”


He bites down on his plump lip before licking over it with his tongue. You want nothing more than to jump across the table and bite said tongue, but you refrain from doing so. “Great.” He says, leaning his forearms on the table. Suddenly, his face is right in front of yours and you can see the lust in his eyes. “In fact, I think tonight might be the night.”


“Oh really?” You ask, sounding disbelieving but the husk in your tone gives you away. “What makes you think that?”


Suddenly, Stiles is leaning over the table and pulling you in close, so that his mouth is just under your ear. “Because,” he says in a whispered rasp, “I’m doing this and you aren’t stopping me.” He sticks his tongue out and licks at the shell of your ear. You shudder, leaning forward as Stiles takes the lobe between his lips and sucks it gently. He trials his wet lips upwards and nibbles slightly at the top, and your hand reaches out holding on to his shoulder.


“Now, now,”


You jump back at the sudden voice and your heart pounds in your chest. Looking up, you see Lola staring at you with a watchful eye, but a smirk is playing at her lips. “This place is strictly PG. Understood?”


Stiles’ ears go slightly red, but his nipples are taught from your actions. You’re sure he’s sporting a bit of a boner. “Yes, ma'am.” He mumbles, thanking Lola when she places two large pizzas on the table.


The woman walks away, giving you an over exaggerated wink behind Stiles’ back and you smile slightly at her. “It’s a shame.” You say, pulling back a slice. “Now you have to walk outta here with a tent in your pants.”


Stiles gives you a look that says 'that was totally inappropriate but you’re too fucking hot for me to care’ as he too takes his first slice of pizza. You don’t know what he’s eating, but he licks sauce off his lips and all you can think about is licking it off his abs.


The rest dinner (or early breakfast) is spent mostly in silence, but you can’t help but look up every now and then. Stiles is staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes and it makes you want to jump his bones right there and then.


When he pays, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You can’t help but think of all those times where you were so mad and frustrated at him and wanted nothing more than to have him fuck you senseless.


Afterwards, you’re driving in the Jeep when you can’t take it any more. Stiles isn’t helping, looking unfairly sexy with nothing but a pair of shorts to cover his modesty, and brown, hunter eyes. When he pulls the car to a stop, you place a hand of his thigh.


“Yes?” He asks, smirking slightly. You just shrug, as if you don’t know what he’s thinking. Stiles doesn’t say anything as he presses down on the gas, eyes focused on the road.


Slowly, painstakingly so, your hand moves higher and higher. You can hear Stiles breath hitch when your nails scratch gently over the bulge that has formed in his pants, and you consider giving him what he wants, but realize it’s much more fun to tease. Your hands only graze over his covered cock before you move further up, dragging the smooth surface of your fingernails over his exposed abs.


Stiles outright moans when you run your fingertips over the muscles, and you see the way he gripped the steering wheels with white knuckles. *My turn,* you think as you unbuckle your seat belt and move forward.


With a hand still toying gentle with Stiles’ abs and happy trail, you shift closer and press your lips to a spot just under his ear. Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat and he stiffly changes gears. “What are you doing?” He asks, his voice full of lust.


“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.” Your voice is feather light and your lips brush teasingly over his ear as you speak. Stiles groans softly, and you take it as an okay. You mimick his earlier actions, licking wetly over the shell of his ear before biting down gently, enough to make the car swerve slightly. “Careful, babe.” You say, your voice sulty. You lick over the bitten spot again, blowing cool air over it and Stiles moans.


“Oh, fuck it.” He says, and suddenly he’s pulling over and parking the car on the side of the road. You take the opportunity, swinging your legs over so that you’re straddling his lap, unbuckling his safety belt.


His hands go to your hips when you begin to kiss down his neck. Stiles’ skin tastes like salt and vanilla and you suck down on it like a vacuum, determined to leave your mark. He lets you do as you please, something you’d never got from Theo, and tilts his head back to allow you more room.


You go left until you find that vein you’d seen earlier. It’s protruding loudly against his neck now, and fuck if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You press your tongue wide on it and lick from bottom to top, only stopping to nibble slightly on Stiles’ jaw.


His breath hitches, and he hesitates only a moment before taking control and crashing his lips to yours. He tastes like chocolate milkshake, you think absently as his lips devour your own and you wrap your arms around his neck. They feel amazingly soft and delicate, yet at the same time wild and demanding. You love every second of it.


His tongue pushes into your mouth and it’s all teeth and lips after that. The wet muscle strokes against your mouth expertly and you moan into him. Stiles smirks against your lips, forcing his tongue further down your throat until you’re sure there isn’t a place in your mouth that his tongue hasn’t touched. Unfortunately, the need for oxygen becomes to great to ignore and you pull away, breathing heavy.


“The things you do to me, baby.” He says, leaning his forehead against your own. You grind down on him, and are pleased to find that he’s hard and aching. Stiles moans at the touch and pulls you in for another kiss, his tongue shooting into your mouth before your lips have even touched.


His hands move slowly as they travel under your shirt and pull it up over your head. He throws it behind somewhere, but you can hardly give a fuck with Stiles’ eyes watching you like that. You’d opted to go braless when you went to change, and now with Stiles looking like a kid on Christmas, you were glad for it.


He leans down and quickly takes one nipple into his mouth, the other hand expertly cupping and toying with the other. Your hands move from his neck to his hair and you tug harshly at the strands when Stiles starts to suck noisily at your tits, making the sweetest of sounds. When he takes your nipple between his teeth and pulls back so your tit stretches out, you moan so loudly you have to stop yourself.


He gives the other breast the same treatment as his hands move downwards and toy with the waistband of your sweats. His skin is like lighting against your own and and your arch into him, loving it.


“You okay with this?” He asks, pulling away from you and looking up with the utmost sincerity. Despite the lust in his eyes, you know that if you ask him to, he’ll stop right here and now. It warms your heart, but right now you need to be fucked.


“Definitely.” You say and Stiles smirks. He pulls your pants and panties down in one go and immediately stuffs two fingers into your pussy, pumping wildly. He has to hold you tight at the small of your back to stop your from falling over with the intensity of his movements. You moan hotly and pull his face up, crashing your lips together and the car is filled with sweet clenching noises.


“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbles against you, sounding so utterly fucked out and sexy that you can’t help but moan again. You grind yourself against his bulge and Stiles moans loudly.


The hand at your back is gone and Stiles curles his fingers inside of your pussy, just as a his other hands’ thumb presses down hard on your clit. You come with a shout, clenching down on his fingers which are still moving rapidly inside of you. Your over sensitive nub is rubbed at again and you feel jolts of electricity shoot through.


Eventually you have to stop his hands as the pleasure becomes too much. He pulls his fingers out of you as you calm down and you look up, seeing your come on his digits.


Then, he does the most absurd thing. He sticks his fingers into his mouth and wipes them clean, looking you dead in the eye and smirking at your open mouth. His tongue swirls around the digits and he smirks through it, pulling them out clean.


“Fuck,” you say, then make a quick decision. Stiles isn’t expecting it when you suddenly drop to your knees and pull his shorts down, his errection springing up in front of your face. The pedals are digging into your back but you don’t care.


You eyes widened and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but you know you can take the full thing. His thick cock is slightly veiny, and looks so damn tempting. You can’t help yourself when you immediately lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip.


Stiles moans loudly was you suckle his tip, hands automatically moving to your hair and pulling it out of its bun, only to then tangle his fingers in it. His nails dig into your scalp and you moan at the feeling, loving the way he forces you deeper and deeper.


You pull away and lick one long stripe from base to tip. He stops you from going back down. “Stick your tongue out, babe.” You do as you’re told, rogue hanging from your mouth. You moan loudly when Stiles slaps his dick on your wet tongue hard, holding your head in place with one hand. You open your mouth wider, loving the feel. “Oh, you like that don’t you?”


He forces you back down on his cock and you love how dominant he’s being. He guides your head non too gently along his member and you bob up and down, loving the taste of his skin and salty precum on your tongue. Then, his dick hits the back of your throat and you tighten around him. Stiles moans loudly, pulling you off.


He reaches down and fishes into the pockets of his shorts for his wallet. Fumbling only briefly, he pulls out a silver foiled packet and throws the wallet aside carelessly. You take the packet from his hands, just as he’s about to open it.


Looking into his eyes, you tear the packet open with your teeth and Stiles eyes widen. You smirk and roll the condom down his length and Stiles watches you with something akin to awe.


With one hand on your hip and the other on his cock, Stiles’ teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing it against your sensitive clit as you stand on your knees above him, legs spread wide. You moan as jolts of electricity shoot up your spine, but Stiles continues to watch you, not giving in.


“Please, Stiles.” You beg. The teenager smirks.


“Whatever you say, Princess.” Suddenly he slams into you in one thrust and you moan loudly against him. The thrusts up quickly, his dick slamming in and out of you at a brutal pace.


“My pretty little princess,” he whispers in your ear. “You love it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” His hands move up your body and squeeze at your tits. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about this for days. Thinking about what it would feel like to have my cock in you.”


“Yeah. Oh God yes.” You moan out desperately, nails raking down his back so hard, you’re sure it’ll leave marks. Stiles smirks.


“Tell me.” He says and you moan as he thrusts in deep, hitting that perfect spit inside of you.


“I get myself off to the thought of you fucking me.” You moan, fingers sliding into his hair. “I wanted you so badly. I thought of you when he fucked me. I knew you were better, bigger, could make me moan and come in ways he never could.” Stiles moans loudly and slams harshly into you. “I’ve thought about it all month. The first day I saw you, I wanted to get on my knees and blow you. Wanted to have your cum dripping down my face and tits. Wanted you to fuck me until yours is the only name I remember.”


“And now?” He breathes against you. “Now what do you want?”


“I want to come with you inside of me.” You say. “I wanna clench around your dick and make you lose control. Wanna through you over the edge and go down with you.”


Stiles moans loudly and reaches between your bodies, pressing down hand on your clit once more. Again, you come immediately, back arching, clenching hard around him as he thrusts wildly into you.


“I’m almost there, baby.” He moans, pulling your face forward and kissing you hard. It occurs to you that what your tasting is your own juices on Stiles’ lips and you moan against him.


“Come on,” you taunt. “Come for me, baby.” It takes two more thrusts before he pushes into you hard, spilling into the condom and dropping down on the car seat. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his dick softening inside of you.


Stiles pulls out and you move, going back into the passenger seat. Your pussy is raw from his fucking and you don’t really care how you look with your legs spread wide as cold air brushes over your centre. Stiles pulls out the condom and ties it up, throwing it out of the window.


“That’s nasty.” You tell him. He looks at you and laughs.


“You’re one to judge.” You flush red at that. Stiles laughs openly. “Do you really get off to the thought of me?”


You look at him and smirk. “All the fucking time.”

10

Art School | Sophie Roach (Austin, TX)

Drawing and painting her way through an imaginative landscape of intricate and visual entanglements is Austin native, Sophie Roach.  Her artwork has endlessly covered  surfaces from– guitars, beer cans, Vans, to entire rooms.  And if that isn’t already insanely rad, her organic approach and laid back attitude make her not only incredibly humble, but also a super awesome collaborator.  While finishing up one mural and starting up new projects, we had the chance to ask Sophie a few questions about her art, her career, and her approach – from finding her voice, attacking a mural, to digging the quietude one might find as a mail person hah!  

Photographs courtesy of the artist. 

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Reasons why I love every SVT member

I have laughed AN D CRIED a lot because of this fine group. I’m sure many others can relate to that.
I would like to take some time to appreciate and note the members individually because they all deserve the world, thanks.
(Prepare yourselves, I wrote lots???? Like…. lots.

S.Coups:

Some might say that Seungcheol isn’t fit to be in charge of the group. Well let me tell ya baby boyz why he most certainly is. S. Coups naturally has that fatherly type of image. Like “dad of the year” award type of fatherly. There is something about him that influences others to feel protected. He genuinely cares for all of the members and keeps everyone’s emotions in line. It takes a special kind of person to do that. One incident that spoke volumes to me was how he handled “Seventeen Project.” He knew when things were starting to take a negative turn and he wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions. (In a calm and rational way). BOI I CRIED. Despite the put-together (and sometimes tough) image he projects, he’s a rather sensitive person. The reason why he’s so supportive is because he longs for support himself. I think being in Seventeen has made him feel a sense of belonging. The mans has done a wonderful job and he deserves respect. I don’t think there is anyone else meant to be leader.  

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Traitor

Request: “can i request a draco fic where you move to hogwarts from another wizarding school in like year 10 (10th grade idk how you might say it) and you come from a really well known Gryffindoor family, you know the Weasleys, but get sorted into Slytherin and everyones really shocked and you become friends with Harry and Hermione (you already knew Ron) but you have a secret fling with Draco and it somehow gets revealed and backlash from Pansy and Harry, Ron and Hermione of course. Thanks so much xxx”

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 2216

Warnings: implied SMUT boiiiiiiiiiii also i feel like this fic is v incoherent and messy but i hope u guys enjoy it anyway hehe

Originally posted by imaginesandmoreforfandom


You were green in a sea of red. Since your first day at Hogwarts, you had felt misplaced. There had been many hushed meetings with the sorting hat, with Dumbledore too. You asked and asked until you had more questions than you had started off with. Your Father’s side of the family, all Gryffindors, and your Mother’s side all American Thunderbirds. Neither pointed towards the outcome that occurred the day you arrived at Hogwarts, the same week you had returned to the UK to live with your father.

Slytherin.

And yet, you felt shunned by them. Your last name carried deep significance to all Gryffindors, the name engraved in many trophies and plaques. The day you joined the cunning house of Slytherin was the only time you sat at your table, for even though you now wore the green robes, the only people who you felt at home with were the brave ones; the lions. You were a snake amongst strong beasts, and it really showed. That was, until you met a young blonde boy who helped you understand where you belonged.

You had met him on your first day, his eyes quick and calculating as you walked down the hallway, surrounded by your new supportive Gryffindor friends.

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The Way I Feel Inside (Eggsy x Reader) Part 1

Summary: Based off of the song, ‘The Way I Feel Inside.’ (I saw Sing a month ago and honestly loved Taron’s singing so here we go)

Pairing: Eggsy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of

Word Count: 1636

A/N: So sorry about such a long hiatus guys. Hopefully this is a sign that my writer’s block is clearing up


Originally posted by thetaronblog



Eggsy and Roxy found themselves in a bit of a predicament.

To an outsider looking in, the partners appeared to be having a marvelous time. Eggsy twirled Roxy, her scarlet dress catching the light oh so perfectly that it sparked envy into some of the women in the room. Nevermind the fact that her date looked at her as though she were the stars to his moon, and the two appeared to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

But in fact the opposite was true.

“What if they can’t reach us?”

Roxy smiled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Are you really doubting Y/N’s talents?”

(Your POV)

“Morgana, I must insist-”

You cut off Merlin’s protests with a simple glare. The man held his tongue, but you could see the conflict in his gaze as he rolled his chair beside yours. Your fingers moved with grace, pressing the appropriate keys as you attempted to hack into the most complex system you had met yet: the Kremlin.

“If you even hesitate for too long-”

“Merlin,” you said, clearly exasperated, though not tearing your eyes away from the monitor now. “If you ever expect me to one day take your place, you have to trust in my skillset. Why else would you have sponsored me?”

He didn’t answer, and for that you were grateful. There was enough stress surrounding your current situation, and you would be lying if you said that your main focus was completing the mission. No, it was to make sure Eggsy got out alive.

Not that anyone needed to know that.

(Eggsy’s POV)

“Galahad, can you hear me?”

Eggsy smiled at the familiar voice. “Loud and clear, Morgana.”

Roxy’s shoulders relaxed as they twirled along the dancefloor, now able to focus on their mission without worrying about if they would even make it home.

“Good. I’m looking at the blueprints right now. There’s a hallway somewhat hidden away to your far right.” Eggsy turned his head, allowing his eyes to be yours. “Right behind Ambassador Tolstoy, can you see it?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy confirmed, dipping Roxy so she could peer past the group of fat politicians.

“Do you want me to lead Fyodor over there?” His partner questioned, her eyes already searching the crowded space for the engineer they were meant to kidnap.

Both agents heard a chuckle, most likely from Merlin, when your voice spoke into the comms again. “Lancelot, no offense, but Fyodor does not necessarily go after people like you.” Eggsy could hear the smile in your voice. “Galahad, from what I’ve observed since the connection has been re-established, the man cannot take his eyes off of you.”

Eggsy’s cheeks burned a bright red as he chanced a glance to his left. Sure enough, there stood Fyodor Romanov, a Russian gangster who single-handedly led to the assassination of four Kingsman agents two months prior. The target sipped a glass of cognac, though it appeared he had an appetite for something that would guarantee a more prolonged satisfaction.

“Galahad, all you have to do is talk to him. Maybe flirt a little, maybe a kiss…”

Roxy laughed as Eggsy twirled her around. “You’re not helping,” he grumbled out.

“Merlin will be with you the whole time. Lancelot, I’m going to contact you on a separate frequency; we have something else for you.”

Eggsy led Roxy to the edge of the dance floor, where they removed themselves from each other. Roxy tilted her head to Fyodor, her eyes sparkling. “Have fun,” she said, before walking away to do whatever it was you needed her for.

As Eggsy approached Fyodor, Merlin attempted to give him a few pointers. “Just pretend he’s Princess Tilde.” Eggsy scoffed. “Right, forgot that’s a sour topic. I’m sure from a certain angle he has to look semi-appealing.”

Eggsy shook his head, grabbing a flute of champagne and chugging it. “It’s not that he’s ugly Merlin; it’s just that I can’t–”

“How about Y/N?” Eggsy froze where he stood. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stare at her. I’m sure that with enough imagination, and more than just one glass of champagne…” He trailed off, hoping Eggsy could follow his method of thinking.

Eggsy siddled up to the bar, right beside Fyodor. Sending the Russian his most charming smile, he whispered to the bartender, “Your strongest. Keep it coming.”

(Your POV)

You leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to will away the headache that was coming on. Too long staring at a screen did that to a person. Add to that the constant worrying about Eggsy… you really needed to sleep this one off.

You felt Merlin’s gaze on you, and dropped your hand to meet it. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/N,” it really never was a good sign when Merlin’s tone was serious, “how long do you plan to go on like this?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” You did.

“After what happened with Dean, I just don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“If you’re trying to imply I feel something for Eggsy, then you might need more rest than I do.” Not wanting to speak of the matter anymore, you stood from your desk and left, heading for your quarters.

Merlin sighed, shaking his head. It was then his stomach dropped as he saw your comms unit, discarded, but online. He turned it off, for once hoping his agents weren’t listening as they so often didn’t.

But fortune was not on anyone’s side that day.

***

For the next week, a palpable tension rested heavily in the air. In an effort to prove Merlin wrong, you spent the majority of your time overseeing various missions, leaving the array of monitors only to eithe eat, sleep, or use the restroom (though you found that with the help of some friends and a pillow, you could do the first two down there).

Meanwhile, you noticed Eggsy appeared to be a bit down the last few days, when you would see him that is, but you just assumed it had to do with Princess Tilde, who had gotten married that week as well. Remembering how willingly Eggsy went to her once a month, you would be lying if you said you weren’t glad she had gotten married; even Eggsy had limits. Yet that still didn’t mean you enjoyed his sour mood.

One day, you decided to approach Roxy about the subject. You found her in the gun range, eyes fixed in determination as her bullets went through the same hole over and over and over again. In hindsight, her cold stare and rigid posture should have given it all away.

Fast forward ten minutes, and you found yourself in the infirmary, listening to Roxy apologize again and again as the nurse stitched up the result of a bullet grazing your arm.

Not a second later Eggsy comes into the room, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene in front of him. “What the hell happened?”

You cut off Roxy before she could say anything. “Tried practicing in the shooting range again. Now you know why Merlin keeps me off the field.” You tried to smile but winced as the nurse pulled a little too tightly on your skin.

Eggsy nodded, his concern fading before that icy mask fell over him yet again. “Well, after you’re done here, he wants to see you downstairs. Something about a Japanese hacker group.”

Without another word he left the room. You turned to Roxy, who now avoided your gaze. “What the hell is all of that about?”

“He’s just been really upset about Princess Tilde.” She pressed a hand to her comms unit and sent you an apologetic smile. “Sorry I have to go. I’ll make this up to you.”

As she rushed out of the room, you felt a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time: loneliness. Sure, your friends were there (you supposed Merlin counted as a friend as well), but they were all lying to you. For the first time in a while, you felt like an outsider in a place that had come to mean home.

When the nurse cleared you, you headed straight for lower ground, deciding it better to immerse yourself in work rather than face the conflict at hand.

Merlin and Eggsy were standing there, waiting for you. Your superior’s eyes trailed to the bandage wrapped around your arm, to which you shrugged, wordlessly promising to explain it to him later.

“Morgana, thank you for joining us so promptly.” Merlin greeted. He turned to Eggsy, who seemed to be looking at anything except you. “Would you like to tell her or should I?”

Eggsy twirled one of Merlin’s pens in his hands. “You’re the boss.”

What the hell had gotten into him? But you didn’t have much time to contemplate this as Merlin turned back to face you.

“Lancelot is in Tibet for the rest of the month, and, due to the bombing last week, I barely have enough field agents as it is.” He couldn’t be serious. “I need you to join Galahad on a mission.”

You listened to Merlin explain the mission details. It was a usual: high class citizen who exploits their business for the sake of profits. This one in particular is suspected of human trafficking. However, your attention solely remained on Eggsy.

You watched him avoid your gaze purposely. His jaw clenched as Merlin explained the two of you would pose as a newlyweds attending a gala in Paris. Eggsy would be the supposed bastard of some aristocrat who you didn’t bother remembering the name of. The job was simple: get in, grab the banker, and get out.

Unfortunately, when it came to you two nothing was simple.


(A/N Part 2 is in the works. Let me know what you guys think)

I just think it’s beyond beautiful that

Emma spent the first 28 years of her life completely alone. She spent it being cared about by no one, being looked after by no one, being put first by no one. She was always picked last, never prioritized, never the centre of anybody’s thoughts. 

In comes: Captain Killian Jones.

Who, literally from the moment he met her, made Emma Swan his Most Important Thing™. Never did he just like her, or just care for her, or just love her, no, no. He put her right at the very tippy tippy top of his list of Reasons To Carry On™. Like think of what that must’ve felt like to her, man. Like I feel like every single day she looked at him staring at her with his I Love You More Than The Jolly Roger™ gaze and she was just like, “Wow…really? Me? But I’ve never… Oh. Woah. Wow. I don’t even know how to…” and like he’s so growly when it comes to Emma Swan’s Wellbeing™. Like she’s stuck behind a cold wall? He’s Panicking™. Gold’s gunna trap her in a hat? He’s mega Panicking™. Her heart darkened by the efforts of Rumple feat. Queens of Darkness? Panicking™. She’s the Dark One and trapped in another realm? Holy shit is he ever Panicking™. She gets sucked into Wish!Realm? Panicking™ to the max. She’s dealing with hand tremors and battling a hooded figure? The Panicking™ is skyrocketing out of control. And then suddenly she’s his WIFE. And then suddenly his wife is not in his grasp and she is far away and look there she is in a mirror with no memories of him and holy sHIT HE IS Panicking™, Panicking™, Panicking™ CAUSE ALL HE CARES ABOUT IS EMMA SWAN(-JONES) AND IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL AND I’M RAMBLING BUT LIKE GUYS I’M NOT READY TO LET GO OF THIS SHIP PLS PROMISE ME WE CAN TALK ABOUT THEIR BEAUTY UNTIL THE END OF TIME ITSELF? 

anonymous asked:

All of sakuras effort and love was so pointless.She loves sasuke for years,is always loyal and waiting,took literally every step in their relationship,just to get knocked up and stuck alone raising a kid.I don't get how sakura can be happy,he left her,no reason can fix all those years He was gone.And this "important mission" was only important for the boruto plot line.And then he refuses to kiss her when the last time they saw each other was years ago,I can see how much he loves her.

Okay, I really can’t be bothered to be nice about this.

“All of Sakura’s effort and love was so pointless”

No it wasn’t, it healed him of his loneliness and ensured that no matter where he maybe and what others may think of him, he’d always have a home to come back to where two people love him very much:

But good job in starting the ask with such a generically ignorant comment.

“Took literally every step in their relationship”

In terms of their actual relationship, you don’t know who took which step because they progressed off panel, so please don’t pull things out of your ass.

“Just to get knocked up and stuck alone raising a kid”

That’s like saying Minato and Kushina spent all that time loving each other and preparing to be a family together, just so that they could immediately die and leave Naruto to grow up alone. The stupidity of this comment completely ignores the circumstances of how the situation came to be. Sarada also wasn’t just some random “kid” that Sakura was “stuck” with no alternative to raise. I like how you choose to word it in such a way as to make the scenario seem as dire as possible. It’s not going to work.

“I don’t get how Sakura can be happy”

Because unlike you and many others who share similarly one dimensional thoughts, she actually understands Sasuke and knows that he is gone for their sake, she knows how much he cares for the both of them, and she knows that despite his absence, their hearts remained connected:

It’s not hard. Sakura knows that Sasuke is away because he has to be, not because he wants to be.

“He left her, no reason can fix all those years he was gone”

Sasuke’s not looking for a reason to “fix” his mistake. He acknowledges it and apologised for it. He just hoped that Sarada would at least understand why he did what he did, because he knew that Sakura was already aware.

“And this “important mission” was only important for the Boruto plot line”

What on earth does this prove? That’s like saying how Obito was only the person who caused the most shit in the entire series because of the Naruto plot line, or how Hashirama was only considered the “God of Shinobi” because of the Naruto plot line. It’s just like, what’s your point?

“And then he refuses to kiss her when the last time they saw each other was years ago, I can see how much he loves her”

Seeing as how that was a sarcastic comment, you clearly don’t see the love that’s between them.

  • But Sakura does:
  • Sarada does:
  • Naruto and Chouchou do:
  • And Karin does as well:

It’s funny how a child like Chouchou who just barely met Sasuke and learned of their family situation, was able to gain a batter understanding of who Sasuke was, then someone like you who has supposedly known him for far longer, but still doesn’t have the faintest understanding of his character.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?”

Alec ducks under the branch that Magnus is holding aside to clear the way as they walk through the forest.

They spent all day wandering, exploring their surroundings and enjoying the total freedom that comes with being far far away from any civilisation.

“I take you on vacation to some remote cabin in the woods and you still ask me what our plans are?” Magnus cocks an eyebrow at him, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Try and relax a little, Alexander.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec lets out a chuckle, sounding genuinely apologetic as if he knows Magnus is right.

They’re almost back at the cabin, walking on one of the main paths of the forest with a clear view of the sky above them. It’s been a hot day, almost unbearably so, with the sun shining down from a cloudless sky. Now, everything is grey, the air humid and charged, filled with promise of the rain that’ll come down sooner rather than later.

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“Cry Followup”, or “See A Doctor! The Musical”

I got sad. A doctor recommended that I go off my anxiety meds because they might be interfering with a bunch of other health issues. I did. It wasn’t good.

I tapered off for months and dealt with the withdrawal symptoms. When they were gone, I felt ok for a few weeks. Then I was easily irritated and sometimes angry. Then weird feelings started to creep in. I guess it was just dread. Maybe it was weird to just be feeling anything after being numbed on meds for so long. I started crying watching movies sometimes or thinking about whatever the fuck. I started getting really sad. Eventually I would cry everyday, sometimes for multiple sessions. It’s strange to think back on that now that I’m safely numbed to fuck again.

My grandfather had died about 8 months earlier and I thought I had emotionally exhausted that, but now it was back and I dwelt on it constantly. I thought of dying with an urgency that I couldn’t distract myself from. I thought of everyone I knew dying. It felt like time was an illusion and it wouldn’t be long until I’m standing beside their open coffins, reflecting on how quickly time had passed and now they’re gone and I’d wasted time not spending more time with them.

Most days I’d just wake up and lie there for hours. I’d try to look at things on my phone to try to distract myself. Snapchat was fun for that. Christ, so was Miitomo. I wouldn’t get any work done. It was difficult to focus and overcome the feeling in my gut of being pulled down and the constant present terror feelings of death and knowing this whole experience will be gone some day, but before that, I’ll watch everyone I know leave too. For a long time, I don’t think I really connected that it was my absence of meds that was doing this to me. I thought maybe it was just circumstances and some kind of Holmes-Rahe scale thing where a bunch of life events happening at once were stacking and compounding my depression feelings. There was no way to win against it and this kind of thing encourages you to not to the things that will typically pull you out of a depression. It makes you want to seclude yourself more and work on further diminishing your self-worth mentally. Instead of seeing friends or doing activities you enjoy, you convince yourself that you’re a burden to them, they don’t really want to see you anyway, and that something bad is going to happen if you go out and do anything. For so many fucking days I just laid there. That makes your depression even worse; your lack of productivity frustrates you and makes you hate yourself. All that wasted time boils your living asshole. It’s a paralysis and you don’t know why you can’t break out of it. You can’t just go into the other room and sit at your computer and do your work. Brains are incredible. Just a bit of absence from a certain chemical changes everything. Of course, you tell yourself things like this, that it’s not really you and that it’s just a biological ineptitude temporarily and that everything will be fine soon enough, but that doesn’t help at all.

That’s the other thing: you don’t feel like this will ever end. This is who you are now. A fucking shrivelled terrified cryhole. I did feel terror quite a few times during all this. It usually gets you when you wake up or try to go to sleep. Everything is still and You are going to fucking die someday, sooner than you think and You have wasted every moment of your life so far blast in your mind and your heart pounds, you can barely breathe, and you might even suddenly groan as panic waves hit your brain in an instant. There’s a terror in knowing there’s no relief from this; that all of these things are true and for some reason you believed the illusion your whole life and weren’t always in the perfect terror about it that you are now. Still, you beg for that trick to come back, to be able to put this mindset away and believe in the stupid shit we tell ourselves just to keep existing in some kind of calm. All these thoughts keep assaulting you with some kind of biological urgency, like you need to figure this problem out immediately or you die. This is what being on chemicals to help your brain for years and then suddenly going off them is like. Your body doesn’t know what the fuck. It’s weird to not give a shit about any of this and then suddenly imperatively have to give a shit about it and be unable to escape it. Even now when I’m in the clear, I still feel its background noise. Maybe I always will from now on. This whole thing has been a Paul on the road to Damascus type ordeal.

I fucking cried watching the new X-Files episodes, my dude. Probably during each one. That’s what it was fucking like. Imagine being in your late ass twenties and something in the X-Files makes you cry because you think of a squandered opportunity, or what you should or shouldn’t have done as a kid, or wishing you had put more effort into certain relationships with family or friends. It just finds anything to grab onto and get you with. You just have a dragging feeling constantly present and looking for things to attach to and convince you you’re sad about. Frankly, it’s fucking annoying. I cried one time because a nintendo phone app was enthusiastic about sharing my character’s picture with others. Just the fact that someone would have an interest in who I am and treat me like a normal person and want to share something about me with other terrible avatars made me cry as I was playing this thing and trying to take a shit. It made me think about my own self-worth and how long I thought there was no reason anyone should give a fuck. Cripe, one time I was almost screaming crying about my best friend who died when we were 11. It was like a fresh wound again and I was lying facedown on my bed wailing like an asshole. Depression can fuck with you.

So, this got pretty bad and I decided I had to see my GP about it. This can become a battle in itself, because past a certain point, you are convinced you aren’t worth the effort and that you’re a burden to have to deal with, and someone else could use that time to see the doctor instead. It gives you any reason to turn yourself down. I cried right away talking to my doctor. All this is really weird to reflect on; I was an entirely different person then. It was like a frantic sadness, an inability to just hold your shit together for even a few minutes. The impending terror was really pressing; a constant urgent anxiety that something bad is going to happen really soon, or that I’m about to get a call that someone I know just died. The doctor recommended seeing a therapist and going back on meds. Now I remember that the reason I finally did something was because my neighbour’s son killed himself. Fuck, that really bothered me. Hearing about any death at all was bad enough, but I think that week I was reading about Edgar Allan Poe’s death and then Vincent Van Gogh’s, and I just got really fixated on vividly imagining their final moments. I think there were others, too. See? Just a stupid thing to waste your time on but in the moment, you think this will help for some reason. Maybe the gravity of that kind of thing hooks you and you can’t help but look into it. So when my neighbour’s son also committed suicide, that was a pretty strong blow. I hadn’t even talked to the guy in over ten years, but I couldn’t help but fixate on having seen his father maybe 3 days prior as he joked in my mom’s backyard and borrowed a ladder. Now his life was ruined and the son he struggled to try to get mental help his whole life had killed himself. He was only 37 and he had a son. I think I spent a few days of weeping out my stupid ass over this, then made the decision to see my doctor.

I started seeing my therapist and cried within 6 minutes of entering his office. I wish I went to see a talk doctor when I was recommended it as a teenager. It’s good shit. Beyond that, I started seeing my friends again. Before this, I think 2 years had passed between us spending time together. I had talked myself into feeling like they were better off without me anyway and had their own real friends and lives that I didn’t have anything to do with. I started to exercise and even just take walks around the block. Sometimes, if I was just lying awake staring at the ceiling, I’d get up and go for a run. I started being able to work on videos again and looked forward to it. Thinking back on it now, I realize I kept streaming during the whole time. That would become the only thing I’d do or look forward to for most of this stretch. SO THANKS IF YOU LOOKED AT MY TERRIBLE STREAMS DURING THIS ERA I WAS QUITE WOUNDED AND I’M HOPEFUL THAT I WASN’T TREMENDOUSLY OBVIOUS ABOUT THIS, YOU HELPED KEEP ME STABLE WATCHING ME PLAY WITH CHILDREN’S TOYS. Beyond this, I’d just sleep until the afternoon and try to find a way to kill time until the streams started. This is why there were even less videos than usual. I was sad.

So, these things helped pull me out of the shit. A lot of it is self-examination and discovering why you feel this way in the first place. I’ve talked to my therapist about whether or not this whole thing was because of being on meds for so long and then going off them and feeling a withdrawal, or if that’s who I am underneath the medication.  He said that it is probably both, but more that that’s who I am. Fuck. He categorized this as a major depressive episode. It was weird to just hear the words. That is the kind of thing that happens to people in their mid-30s in office jobs who are getting shit on by everything in their lives. I guess it can also make you feel like a diva asshole; that you feel you’re so important that you had to have this major crisis about yourself. Writing this makes me realize how stupid it is to think like this, but that’s the kind of trap you get put into. Anyway, let me emphasize how important it is to see a therapist if you are depressed. Do it. It can change everything. Also talk to a doctor and see if meds are part of your solution. See a doctor. Do not just let it go. This is like if you had cancer and you just wanted to wait it out or hoped it would get better on its own. A lot of people let it go until it’s overwhelming and consumes them completely and just kill themselves to end the pain. Don’t!

I got better. I went on meds and in just a few weeks I made a drastic improvement. Plus the therapy, and plus feeling like I was doing anything with my life again. I hear a lot about hesitation to go on meds because you feel like they may change the foundation of who you ever are. This doesn’t happen. For me, it made me feel more free to be who I felt like I really was. That said, it may numb your emotions if you are a person who typically feels a lot of things. Just talk to a doctor about any concerns you have and don’t let these build up and become reasons you don’t get help for yourself. You are worth it. The doctor isn’t angry to have to deal with you. If it will cost what you can’t afford, don’t let that become an excuse not to do it. Save up or find a way to make it work. Again, it’s like if you couldn’t afford cancer treatments so you just let it kill you instead of finding out how you can make the situation work financially. What you’re dealing with is serious! Do something about it!

I almost forgot to mention that a lot of getting better was having something to look forward to. Knowing I’d see my friends and we’d have a good time was part of it. Another was spending all of my fucking money to go to as many conventions as I could. They were something I enjoyed in the past but didn’t bother with much anymore, so I decided to get back into them. It was the best choice. Thanks for coming to drink a lot of beers and talk shit if I saw you at a PAX or TwitchCon or Magfest! They were sincerely some of the best times of my life. Knowing that it wouldn’t be long until I’d be at another convention helped a lot with otherwise feeling complete dread. The power of giving yourself something great to look forward to is really strong! Do it! Find things you like and make time for them. Reward yourself! At one point, I got into a really unbalanced lifestyle and would spend maybe 60 or 70 hours a week editing videos and I burned myself out to shit. All I would think about was the job and let my health and relationships go to shit. You’re not supposed to do that. Give yourself good things and make it a habit. Anyway, PAX East soon, my man.

When I wrote my last crypost, a lot of people responded it it. I was in a daze for the rest of that day as I heard from a mountain of individuals. A lot of you deal with issues like this and a lot of you feel hopeless about it. It’s fucked up! This is your life! You’re entitled to a good one! Doing something about it will take a lot less than you may think, and will help you in a lot more ways and probably faster than you may think. A lot of you also said since that you’ve decided to finally get help. So yeah motherfucker I had a cool cry about your messages several times. What was also helpful was anonymous tumblr questions saying they got help so others could see your experiences and know I’m not just yelling out my dick about this. Thanks! You helped people!

Ok I think I have to cut this short now, it got late and I try not to stay awake until fucking 7 AM these days. I feel like I missed a few of the main points I wanted to make but by now I think you get the point that you can feel like you are going to face total annihilation within the next few moments and still get back to normal in very little time. I almost just wrote “Hopefully talking about my own cringe-ass experience helped you with…” and so forth to end this on a light-hearted self-shitting, but that again is part of the problem. Feeling as if your issues are embarrassing, not worthy, juvenile, or to be written off as not serious is no good. I know we joke about this kind of thing to help deal with it, but don’t feel that way for real. AGAIN, YOU’RE WORTH IT. YOU’RE GOOD! YOU’RE WORTH DOING WHATEVER IT TAKES TO FEEL NOT FUCKED UP! GO! 


Go!

Andreil Quits Smoking

so i somehow messed up answering your ask directly, but this was requested by @vexingcosmos! i’m sorry it took me forever, but i actually did some research because i know NOTHING about smoking. also, this got long. like…really long. 


  • it began as most things do, where the Foxes are concerned: with a bet
  • it’s a Friday night and the Monsters have come to Columbia, and for once, the upperclassmen were allowed to come along
  • Matt’s birthday was on Wednesday, and he just wants to hang out with his best friend and favorite human Neil okay let him live
  • so Neil *asked* Andrew and well…we all know how that goes
  • the whole gang is having a grand ol’ time
    • Aaron, Nicky, Allison, and Dan have been on the dance floor practically since the second they walked into Eden’s
    • Allison dragged a reluctant Renee out to join them within the first hour, and this girl can DANCE don’t fight me on this 
    • Kevin has been drunk since before they even left Sweetie’s (snuck in a flask, the little troublemaker)
    • he’s so far gone that he couldn’t even tell you who the first striker in Exy history to reach 1,000 goals was. he may or may not be aware that he is swaying.
    • Matt has been hanging out at the table with Neil and a rather annoyed Andrew
  • Matt has convinced Neil to take way too many shots for his tiny body to handle, but Andrew is there, so he’s trying not to worry about it 
  • sometime around the seventh shot, the rest of the gang makes their way over to the table
  • Andrew’s hand is on Neil’s thigh, and his pointer finger has been tapping incessantly for the past twenty minutes
    • and Neil can only take so much, even from Andrew
    • he stares at Andrew as subtly as he can (i.e. not very) in an effort to catch his attention
  • Andrew eventually drags his gaze over to Neil and lazily cocks his head to the side, as if to say what could you possibly want at this moment in time, Neil
    • Neil looks pointedly to Andrew’s hand and then jerks his head towards the exit
  • Neil is, of course, very unsubtle with all of this
    • Kevin turns to stare at them and says, in a barely intelligible voice, “if you’re gonna hook up, you could at least wait until we’re back at the house and i’m passed tf out”
    • Nicky laughs and says, “aww Kev c’mon, let the munchkins have playtime whenever they want”
  • Andrew is about to turn his whiskey glass into a weapon for the munchkin comment when Aaron suddenly pipes in
    • “nah, Andrew needs to take care of his other habit”
    • it is now very quiet in their group of normally very loud people
  • everyone looks to Aaron for him to clue them in on what he means
    • everyone except Renee, who has silently moved closer to Andrew just in case he really does decide to use that whiskey glass
  • Aaron continues: “you know what smoking does to your body over time, right? i assume i don’t need to go all Bill Nye on your ass and draw you a picture”
    • Aaron becomes Dr. Minyard when he is very drunk. trust me.
    • Andrew doesn’t say anything, just stares at Aaron. is he even blinking? probably not
  • “who am i kidding. you don’t care. you’ll just let this ruin you. i bet you couldn’t quit even if you tried” 
  • that gets everyone’s attention
    • Nicky: “did he just say the B word”
    • Allison: “looks like it’s that time again where i get even richer”
    • Matt, softly: “oh shit”
  • Neil is about to jump in and open up a can of whoop ass on Aaron when Andrew’s steady voice comes from beside him
  • “fine”
  • everyone, collectively: “WHAT”
  • Andrew rolls his eyes. “fine. i bet that i can quit completely within a week”
    • complete silence. everyone just stares. shock. disbelief. 
  • Andrew gets up and starts heading towards the exit, dragging Neil along with him 

********

  • Neil decides to join Andrew in Operation Quit Smoking
  • but two days into it, they’re both at their wits end
  • they definitely aren’t about try anything medication-related, for obvious reasons
  • after doing a bit of research related to natural methods like adding more of certain vitamins into your diet, Neil confronts Andrew
    • “you know we have to. we don’t have another choice”
    • “fuck you, i’m not doing that”
    • “Andrew. it’s our last option.”
    • [after a long, defeated sigh] “fine. but you have to ask him”
  • so Neil does the one thing he wished he’d never have to do with anything that isn’t Exy
  • he asks Kevin to help
  • when they wake up the next day, Kevin has printed out color-coded meal plans for both Andrew and Neil
    • Andrew Minyard does not cry. But let me tell you. Looking at that list of food options…it was an extremely close call.
    • on every single day, the breakfast item was a green smoothie
    • Andrew thought he’d rather just pay the entire $500 betting pool off himself
  • but Neil. precious, precious Neil. tells Andrew that they can definitely do it, and wouldn’t it be great to prove Aaron wrong and make him lose money that he probably would have spent on Katelyn?
  • so they pull themselves up by their metaphorical bootstraps and follow all of Kevin’s rules. every. single. one. 
  • halfway to their deadline, Andrew finally wants to kill everyone slightly less than he did yesterday. he marks this as massive progress. 
  • Neil didn’t really smoke in the first place, but he’s still having trouble finding something to replace that feeling he gets from the smell
    • he’ll be okay without it, he thinks. he has Andrew to keep him steady, to ground him when he feels like he could float away from reality for good
  • by the following Friday, the Foxes have gathered in the girls’ room to hear the final word and settle their bets
  • Kevin has become the official referee of this particular bet
  • everyone waits in suspense, heartbeats flying at the thought of all the cash they are either about to lose or gain
  • Kevin takes his role seriously, as he does everything else
  • “i declare that, as of this day at 4:27 pm, Andrew and Neil have gone three consecutive days without one cigarette. i predict that they will be able to continue resisting, if they keep following my suggested guidelines”
    • the last bit is said with a hard look at Neil and Andrew. of course.
    • Allison, Matt, and Dan don’t try to hide the smug looks on their faces as Aaron and Nicky hand over entirely too much for a bunch of college students to bet with
    • Renee chose not to participate, but her new bruises say that she’s been helping Andrew cope all week
    • Aaron grudgingly looks back to Andrew, holding out his hand with his share of the winnings
    • Andrew just stares at him. blinks. turns around and walks out the door. 
  • Neil edges out of the room to follow him up to the roof while everyone is arguing over who gets Andrew’s share, since he’s obviously not taking it
  • Neil reaches Andrew and sits beside him with their shoulders touching
  • they’re looking out over campus when Neil turns to Andrew
  • “i’m proud of you”
  • Neil gets a disgusted scoff and a hand pushing his face away in return
  • “you’re still a junkie”