it is going to take me weeks to get over this

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Request ➸ Can you make a fluff with Jungkook when you go to bed after a long day at school and you’re really tired but he tries to wake you up and you’re really pouty and ask why and he says that you need to take your makeup off cause it’s bad from your skin but you’re too lazy to so he does it for you EXTRA FLUFFY PLEASE 

Word count ➸ 2k

Originally posted by jkguks


You woke up to the sound of your loud alarm clock, you never being gladder to hear the ringing for the first time. In the midst of your nightmare, Jimin successfully captured your boyfriend, Jungkook, heart with a simple air kiss. As much as you loved hanging out with him and the rest of his friends but at times, Jimin seemed more like a rival than a close friend.

You shivered, getting out of bed and quickly getting into the shower. The hot water tingled against your skin, washing away grogginess along with the odd feeling of jealousy that lingered due to your dream. You hoped that you wouldn’t accidentally snap at Jimin the next time you saw him. 

Dressing into a bomber jacket, one of Jungkook’s old white shirts and high-waist jeans, you lazily tied your hair back because the spark that caused you to dress up died as soon as you saw your hair.  It momentarily returned as you did your makeup, although going for a more natural look since you were short on time. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror that hung on your door before going into the kitchen. You settled for a pear, the juicy green fruit deserved more love than the typical apple. Tossing the core into the trash, you grabbed your bag from the floor where you left it yesterday and noticed one of Jungkook’s socks behind it.

You sighed, the lone sock triggering the memory of when Jungkook asked you to live with him. It was probably three months after you two started dating and after a handful of times when his friends had walked in on the two of you. He was so abrupt about it, you jokingly agreeing to it at first until he showed up to your old apartment with a bunch of classified ads and a red marker. Of course, having a place to yourselves meant no interruptions but getting to know each other in the same house had its cons. Especially since Jungkook liked to eat your leftovers when you specifically tell him not to, or the fact whenever he offered to help you with the grocery, he loved to place your favourite snacks on the top shelf of your cupboard like the evil giant he is. Not to mention his habit of losing socks that turn up after weeks of being missing.

You dryly laughed to yourself, remembering that your boyfriend was currently on a trip for the next few days for his portfolio. That boy loved his camera as much as he loved you, although he couldn’t answer whether he would save his camera or you in a fire without hesitation.

This wasn’t the time to think about Jungkook, you told yourself and picked up your bag. You placed the sock on the coffee table and left the apartment. You caught the bus, rushing up the back of the bus before the driver sped down the streets. You watched the passing cars and bikes, the fall leaves adding colour to the grey asphalt of the road. The familiar scenery of your campus came into view and you got off the bus, walking down the path. People on their bikes pass you, stopping at the bike racks up ahead and you reached the corner where your best friend, Sol-ji usually popped up.

“Boo!” Just as you predicted, she came from behind you to cover your eyes and you smiled at her failed attempt to scare you.

“Halloween ended two weeks ago.”

“I meant that as an endearment.”

“Explain covering my eyes.”

“A magician never reveals all her tricks.”

“Sol-ji, you literally walked up behind me. The only magic here is how you managed to trick yourself into blatant fibbing.” You two walked up the steps into the hall, seeing people sitting in lounge chairs and others rushing up the stairs to whatever class they’re about to be late for.  

“You’re so mean, Y/N~ Did Jimin say he was going to steal Jungkook away again?”

“Only in my nightmare, yes. Sorry for my outburst, I feel strange today.”

“Oh, you miss him that much.”

“I miss not having to climb the counter to grab the peanut butter and my snacks or not waiting for the bathroom in the morning? I think not.”

“The amount of denial you’re having is astounding.” You rolled your eyes, focusing on walking up the stairs as Sol-ji continued to talk to you. She was bashing her roommate, as usual, talking about how she had come home to the floor covered with pictures of cats. Somehow, her roommate hadn’t noticed that her camera was connected to the printer and she had unknowingly printed 50 Polaroid photos of her cashmere cat.

“I’m honestly questioning why I said I was okay with pets on that survey.”

“You were just being an honest person.”

“How did the system think that I and she were 85 percent compatible when she is, 100 percent accuracy, the worst roommate I ever had.”

“Just ask for a change.”

“But she makes the best cookies,” you rolled your eyes, was she seriously going to let her sweet tooth be a deal breaker, “and I might be over-exaggerating.”

“I noticed.” She elbowed your side as you laughed while you two entered the classroom. A few people were early as well and you two sat in the middle rows. You two readied yourselves for class anyways, Sol-ji pouting as she did so.

“Meanie.” You were about to reply but a soft tap on your shoulder made you turn your head to the owner of the finger.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, Himchan.” Himchan was the secretary of the student union which you were the vice president

“I’m just reminding you about today’s emergency meeting at 2.”

“What happened?” You took out your water bottle, taking a sip as Himchan nervously scratched his head.

“Mi-woo’s sick.” You choked on a sip, you quickly coughing to recover. Minwoo, the president, hasn’t missed a meeting since she became a member and usually filled you in on what happened because you were typically late to meetings because of a certain someone.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s fine, how did she get sick?
“The annual cook-off, someone had the flu and everyone there got sick. I’m glad I hate cold cucumber soup.”

“Alright.”

“You can’t be late to the meeting this time, alright?”

“Okay.” You slumped in your seat as Himchan left the classroom, your professor entering at that moment.

“Look on the bright side, at least the meetings are just an hour long.” It was as if the universe heard Sol-ji’s words at that very moment and decided that today was the day it should mess with you.

You were on time because one of the other members spotted you and walked with you to the meeting room. It was going smoothly; the group was listening to you and you could see yourself wrapping up the meeting early until Himchan started discussing the holiday event for December and all hell broke loose. It was a shouting match and members shoving ideas at you as they angrily argued which idea was best for the student body. Mi-woo, you lucky wrench, you managed to avoid this. You ended the meeting about 30 minutes late, but your day wasn’t over yet.

One of the fine arts students that knew you through Jungkook needed a replacement model for her art piece and she had the largest puppy eyes (after Jungkook, of course. That boy gives you that look intentionally and unintentionally). You forced a smile as you agreed, and she happily dragged you into an art studio where she spent three hours to paint you, which didn’t look much like you but you didn’t have the heart to tell the girl. It was about 6 when you went out to the bus stop, waiting almost an hour for the bus and you missed your bed more as the bus ride went on.

You took the elevator up, going straight into your apartment and walking straight into the bedroom. You heard water running, your tired mind playing tricks on you as your head hit the pillow and you cuddled up to the sheets.

“Babe?” You were questioning your sanity when you thought you heard Jungkook’s voice and only made you want to sleep sooner.

“Babe, wake up.”

“Why does the universe hate me so much-” You sat up to see Jungkook sitting next to you and your faces were close enough that your nose brushed against his.

“Surprise?”

“Have I lost my mind?” He laughed, you blinked in response. Jungkook is here, alive and well while you were ready to pass out. Typical.

“Did you miss me that much?”

“It really is you, the same annoying Jungkook.”

“I thought you would be happier to see me.”

“And I thought I would be able to get some sleep.”

“I guess I could remove the towel to make things easier-”

“That’s not what I meant, horndog.”

“Okay, you’re cranky.”

“I had a long ass day and I just was some R&R.”

“You could at least change and take off your makeup.”

“I don’t really care, Jungkook.” You let your head fall back onto your pillow, Jungkook poking the back of your neck.

“That’s not good for your skin, baby.”

“I’m tired, Jungkook.” You heard him tsk at you, taking the sound as a sign of victory as he got up and walked somewhere else. You were barely entering the sleep cycle when you felt him yank the sheets off you and you snapped your eyes open and looked up at him.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart.”

“One day, I’m going to find out your weakness and kill you.”

“Did you eat a lot of sugar because it’s starting to melt into your personality.”

“You’re probably the meanest girlfriend on Earth.”

“I would be a lot nicer to you if you weren’t robbing me of my precious sleep time.”

“Can you at least sit up for me?” You sat up, cross-legged, for him regardless of your sharp tone with him and he pulled the makeup wipes off the nightstand. He sat in front of you

“Shut your eyes for me.” You did so, feeling the cold wipe run across your eyelids one by one and gently over your eyelashes. He ran a clean side of the wipe across your cheeks and lips before stopping.

“Jungkook.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“So cheesy.”

“The prettiest girl that ever lived.”

“Quit it.”

“Why~ Your cheeks are burning, aren’t they?”

“Shut up!” He placed his hands on either side of your cheeks, verifying the heat in your cheeks as you tried to push him away.

“Your cheeks are going to leave a burn on my hands. You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Meanie.”

“So that makes the two of us, two peas in a pod.”

“To think I missed you even in the slightest.”

“So you did miss me, huh?”

“Shut-” He cut you off, swallowing the syllables with his lips as he kissed you. Your hands grabbed handfuls of his shirt as one of his hands slipped to your side. He pulled away, you look away and Jungkook poked your cheek repeatedly.

“Should’ve known since you’re wearing my shirt anyways.” He pulled you into his lap, your arms resting on his shoulders and your hands playing with the ends of his obsidian hair.

“Why can’t you be cute and silent?”

“Because my sexy voice shouldn’t go to waste.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true.” You sighed, how did you manage to find a guy like him? You placed your hand on his cheek, slowly caressing it with your thumb running across the smooth skin.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.” He pressed his lips again yours once again, his movements much more languid and gentle as his body molded into yours. He kissed away the tiredness of a long day, his touch awakened you and his presence made you feel whole.

“Welcome home.”

birthday treat (richie tozier x reader)

requested: “Could you do something with Richie where it’s your birthday? Not specific, I know, but you can let your creative juices flow. \_(•-•)_/ Thank you! Have a nice day!” - @jaedcnwesley

summary: y/n hates people making a big deal out of her birthday but richie does it anyway

characters: y/n, richie tozier

a/n: y/s/n means your siblings name btw,, i hope you enjoy!! also if you want a part 2 about what they actually do on the date, i’ll write that if you want? only if you want tho lmao


You tried to never make a big deal out of your birthday. It was just another day, it just happened to be the day you were born. You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to some people.

For years you had tried to keep your birth date a secret, but of course, certain people always found a way to find out.

One of those certain people being your boyfriend.

Richie Tozier.

He was constantly pestering you about when your birthday was, what you were doing, what he should get you, etc. And you were honestly sick of it. Every time he’d ask about it you’d shoot him down immediately.

And he wanted to find out why. So, surprisingly, he formed a plan of how to find out. This plan simply being to ask your mother. Basic, but it should work.

Richie made his way up the intimidating steps of the white walled house, stopping to take a deep breath in and prepare, before knocking the heavy handle of the door.

You’d think that him being your boyfriend and all, he would’ve met your mother by now. But nope. And there was a reason for that too. A very good reason, in your opinion.

There was shuffling to be heard inside, the sound of arguments and shouting. Richie took a small step back hesitantly, slightly worried as to what was inside.

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal a stout woman with scraggly hair tied up into a sad bun on the top of her head. She glared at him, the cigarette in her left hand drooping slightly.

“Whaddayou want?” She asked incoherently, waving her cigarette dangerously near Richie’s face. “Y/N’s nah here so beat it, kid.” As she went to close the door, Richie quickly stood up and lodged his foot between the frame and the door.

“Wait! Uh, I um, had a question to ask?” He asked carefully, all confidence disappearing as he saw the cold look that seemed permanently stuck on her grimy face.

She ruffled her brows in confusion. “Wha question, ‘en? 'Urry up, I don’t 'ave all day!” She exclaimed, swaying slightly on her feet.

Richie subconsciously played with the ends of his Hawaiian shirt, before asking the question he had been meaning to. “You know, Y/N,”

Of course she knows Y/N, oh my god, I’m an idiot, he thought exasperatedly.

“Well, I was just wondering when her b-birthday is?” God, now he’s sounding like Bill, jeez.

She scrunched up her face, seeming to be thinking before continuing to close the door. “Nah kid, don’ know mate-”

“Wait! How do you not know you’re own kid’s birth-”

“Muuum? Who’s at the door?” A young voice rang through the air. Y/S/N.

Richie spun around swiftly and ran over to them, grabbing them by the shoulders. Y/S/N was truly bewildered. “Y/S/N!”

“Um, yes?” They questioned, confused.

“When’s Y/N’s birthday? I need it for… research!” He quickly asked, pleading with them through his eyes.

They sighed lightly and smiled. “Tomorrow, okay? Now leave me alone, I’ve gotta do some homework. Bye, Richie.” They skipped up the rickety steps and waved at him before slamming the door behind them, leaving Richie to his own thoughts. The whole street heard the distressed scream of Richie Tozier that afternoon.

“TOMORROW?!”

________________________________________________________________________________________


Richie had been stressing all night. It was currently 4 am on a Saturday and he was planning and arranging a little 'date’ for you guys to go on that morning.

Now, the thing is about Richie, he’s not exactly the most romantic person. But he tries. Kinda.

Take for an example, just last week. The whole Losers Club were together, playing around down by the Quarry and in the lake. Under the water, Bev and Ben were holdings hands (much to everyone’s delight) while talking quietly amongst each other, Bev’s head laying on Ben’s chest delicately.

Now, you and Richie on the other hand. You two were together, apart from the others as well, and yes, Richie’s hand was definitely underwater. However, he wasn’t exactly doing the same innocent precious action. Nope, his hand was doing something much more dirty movement. Yes, he had placed his hand right on your behind.

Not exactly the most romantic moment, but appreciated all the same you suppose.

Richie rubbed his tired eyes behind his thick framed glasses. Staying up until the early hours of the morning wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Richie, but racking his brains for something to do in the next few hours definitely was. He was honestly more of a go-with-the-flow kinda guy, never really making plans until the very last minute.

He sighed in content after finishing his little project, putting the last piece of paper in the jar and closing the lid tightly; or as tightly as he could in his tired state. He yawned widely, stretching out his arms and quickly glancing at the digital clock on the small rickety table that stood next to his bed. Smiling to himself, he placed the jar onto the top and snuggled down into his thin bed sheets.

2 hours later, he woke to a loud obnoxious beeping sound. No, not his own voice. He snickered at his own stupid little joke and pulled himself out of bed. 15 minutes and he was ready to go, nearly forgetting to grab the basket of goodies on his way out.

Meanwhile, you were sitting on the falling down wall of your garden, swinging your legs back and forth while waiting for your idiotic boyfriend whom you loved so much to arrive. He had texted you at 3am in the morning, knowing you’d be awake due to the loud music always playing from your next door neighbour, and basically told you that you were going out with him tomorrow and you had no choice in the matter. However, you didn’t expect that the reason was because it was your birthday that day. You had never told ANYONE. How would he know?

Suddenly, you felt a sharp tug on the end of your hair, glancing around to see Richie perched on his bike, smirking at you widely.

“Sorry I’m late, babe. I was just setting some stuff up,” he grinned at you, patting the back of his bike. You smiled fondly.

“I have my own bike, y'know, Trashmouth?” You teased him, before sitting yourself on the back of his bike, blushing lightly as you wrapped your arms around his stomach.

“Yeah, I know, I just wanted an excuse to have your sweet ass even nearer to me,” he smirked back, smoothly.

You shook your head and jabbed him in the side. “Just go, you idiot. Also, where are we going?” You replied, as he started pedalling down the cobbled road.

“Well, that’s a secret. All birthday present are a secret!”

As soon as he said the word birthday, your face fell. Of course. Of course he’d find out a way. Bloody hell.

“I said I didn’t want anything Richie! I’m not worth it, jeez,” you said, exasperated.

He turned around to look at you, being dangerously close to hitting into a lamp post.

“That’s not true, Y/N! Listen, I may be a dick most of the time, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna get you anything for your birthday. You… you mean a lot to me, okay?” He said, glad that you couldn’t see the dark blush that had settled itself on his cheeks.

You smiled a small smile. Maybe your birthday wouldn’t be so bad after all.

i just expect too much is all. i don’t understand how other people don’t have the inherent need to be close to people. they go through their lives without deep conversations and they’re fine with it. “how was your day?” “fine, how was yours?” “good.” it’s a simple life, sure, but a life i don’t know how to be a part of.

because it’s hard to live a simple life when you’re so complicated and everything makes you feel strongly. so when i get too close to people, i share everything. i tell them the whole story about my coworker’s relationship troubles and about how my old one is getting engaged. about the conversations i had with my cat, smoking weed in the back bedroom, how my mom asked me if i wasn’t in my room because i was eating oreos and i said yes. i tell them every pointless story that happened in my day, about how i have a test this week and how i’m studying the heart and hey wait did you know that a heart murmur is just a sound different than wub dub, the sound of your heart valves closing as blood flows through them? i tell them about how i slept on khalid’s album, everything my friends told me about the last time we were drunk. i tell them everybody’s secrets, including my own.

when i get close to people, i get really close. i leave no room for anyone else. they become my number one priority. i drop everything for them and i expect them to drop everything for me. but that’s the thing, you know, when you go too far for people - you can only have one person you go too far for, otherwise you’re sacrificing your mental health, and i know that, so it was always you to me.

i guess what i’m saying is you were my person. and i guess i was never yours. and it feels like a part of me is missing because you never shared yourself with me the way i shared myself with you. you can tell anybody “good” but i can’t tell everyone about the time i called the cops on my dad when i was 14. i try to reach out to other people but i am too afraid to get close because i know what happens when i get close and it usually ends up with me facing rejection or ignoring everybody else. and even if i could, nobody feels like you. nobody acts like you. nobody is you. you are irreplaceable to me. but i can’t be close to you anymore even if i wanted to be because you’re not you anymore; our relationship has changed.

so i’m stuck in this reality where i can’t even reach out to you anymore. it doesn’t feel the same. we’re different people now. i don’t feel anything when i talk to you now. there’s nothing but splinters and empty space. and this is what i always wanted - to get over you, but i’ve never felt so alone. it feels like my heart is breaking all over again.

because who do i tell these things to now? who can listen to me talk the way you did without telling me i’m being annoying, without telling me to shut up? you know, it’s okay when i’m happy. but when i’m down - and i mean really down - who can i share my deepest fears with without oversharing?

so i share a handful of stories to every person in my life because i don’t have anybody to tell everything to anymore and the people in my life still say i talk too much but there’s just. so much to say. i don’t know how people don’t turn 2 minute stories into 15 because there’s so much that happened to me today between the people i saw in traffic, the smell of the rain, the new shoes i bought online, what i learned in school. and i feel like if people don’t know every single thing about me, they don’t even know me. getting close takes a lot of vulnerability. and nobody’s ever known me the way that you did. and nobody’s ever left more drastically.

so i don’t light up the way i used to because i don’t know how to be interested in things when i can’t tell you about them. small things aren’t enough. food doesn’t taste as good anymore and i don’t like school anymore and my favorite songs make me cry and everything makes me cry, really, and i don’t know how to open up.

because loving you is like forcing a square peg into a circle. you don’t fit into my life anymore and it kills me.

The Mistake (Bonus #8) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The One With The Different Updates”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison McCall & Reader

Author’s Note: This is the last one I have for you guys. It takes place after Scott and Allison get home from their honeymoon and finally get updated on what happened with their two best friends while they were gone. I enjoy the gender norms/role reversal here. Thank you so much for reading The Mistake. I have loved every minute of it. I hope to see you guys enjoying my other work :) *waves bye for now*

#1 - #2 - #3 - #4 - #5 - #6 - #7 - #8 - The Mistake Masterlist

Originally posted by hoppelessssssss

“So, you guys are officially together, huh?” Scott asked, sitting on the hot grass next to his best friend, watching their dogs chase each other around the park. 

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anonymous asked:

just a story about them making a baby, pleaseeee!

I’m not sure if this is what you’re after Anon, but here you go. Warning, fluff ahead!

It happens on William’s first birthday, after the little boy has spent the best part of the day racing around the garden, tearing open more presents than they can accommodate in their house, and overdosing on sugary treats. Before Scully can steer her son towards the bathroom, ready to get him cleaned up for bed, he falls asleep in her arms, and there’s no sign of him waking anytime soon. His bath now forgotten, she instead retreats to the living room where Mulder is busy attempting to tidy up after their family gathering. She tells herself she’ll just pause for a few minutes, to savor the peace and calm after their long, busy day, and then she’ll help Mulder with the cleaning up. He doesn’t mind however; he knows she was up early with an excited little birthday boy while he was able to catch an extra hour’s sleep. 

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Birth of Desire

His smile is what I look forward to every week. Something about his smile lights up the room. Everything brightens up when he smiles at you or just in general. Shawn is smiling whiling writing new lyrics for SM3 and it instantly puts a smile on my face.

“You know you look creepy smiling like a weirdo right?” Shawn speaks up awakening me from my daze. I look at Shawn weirdly as he stares back at me.

“I love your smile” I say giving him my own version of his smile or at least try to. Shawn’s laughs echoes through the studio causing me to let out hesitant chuckle. He leans forward from his seat and clutches his stomach. His hand comes up to wipe away small tears falling down his face.

“T-that’s haha not how I smile. I’m sorry baby, but it looks like your forcing the smile” Shawn laughs again and eventually falls off his chair. I send him a glare as he tries to recuperate from laughing.

“Sorry I can’t do a good impersonation of the ‘Shawn Mendes’ smile” I tell him crossing my arms over my chest. Which oddly enough lifts my boobs a bit. Shawn clears his throat a bit before walking towards me. He takes a seat next to me pulling onto his lap to straddle him. My hand instinctively go around his neck pulling me a little closer to his chest. Shawn let’s out a small sigh as his eyes are concentrated on my breasts. I flick his head a little to get his attention, but it doesn’t remove his gaze from my breasts.

“You should really wear this sundress more often. The sundress makes your breasts look so much bigger baby. And it focuses on all your beautiful curves, no wonder Geoff and Andrew ban you from coming to the studio. I bet if you came here every time I would never get writing done, since I would have you bent over the coffee table.”

“Thanks” I respond with a small voice as he tugs the bottom of the sundress upwards to lay around my hips. Shawn’s hands make there way up my thigh slowly caressing it before cupping my face in his hands. His breath fans over my face as inches his lips closer to mine. Before he can kiss me he removes his hands from my face leaving me dumbfounded.Shawn hands start to travel down my body again and stop once he reaches my thigh. His hands move upwards under the dress and he pulls on the elastic of my underwear and lets it go. A small snap is emitted from his action.

“Don’t start getting shy on me princess! We both know your not shy when it comes to our sex life” Shawn seductively whispers into my ear as his hand keep moving upwards until they reaches my breasts. “No bra such a bad girl” he says as he caresses my breasts gently squeezing ever so often. I feel myself get wetter as his calloused fingers pull at my nipple. I let out a moan as he continues to pinch my nipples.

“Shaw-“ his phone rings on the side table interrupting us. I let out a sigh of relief as I watch him answer the phone. He taps my thigh so I can get up. I straighten my dress out and turn away to regain my composure. His hands wrap themselves around my middle and pull me back into his lap. I try and question his actions and he puts a finger to his lips.

“Yes, Andrew I’ll have the date set on the Calendar” Shawn responds as he hums in between Andrews responses. His hands trail their way to the hem of my dress bunching it around my waist. Shawn’s fingers inch their way down my panties and cup aroused core into his hand igniting a whimper from deep within my throat. He pulls me back not to hard, a hand around my throat he whispers in my ear “shh… you need to be quiet while I talk on the phone can you do that princess?” I nod as he keeps my body leaning on him.

“Sorry Andrew can you repeat that?” Andrew starting talking again and Shawn hand move my underwear to one side allowing him to to separate my folds. His cold hands send a shiver down my spine as he continues to move up and down my slit. My head turns to face his neck and try to quiet my moans as best as I can. Shawn’s fingers make their way to my throbbing clit rubbing harsh circles. My hand comes up to my mouth to diminish the constant moans and whines that leaves my lips. Shawn let’s go and I’m regaining my breath before I know his index finger pushes into me.

“Ohh Sh- Shawn what was that?” Andrew asks through the phone after I cover my mouth. Shawn sends me a glare before he clears his throat.

“Its Y/N, I don’t know what she’s doing right now. So what are our plans for the next album and upcoming tour?” Shawn resumes conversation with him leaving me to cover my moans again. In no time I’m a withering mess as my orgasm takes over my body. My thigh close trapping Shawn’s fingers from removing themselves. His fingers slowly thrust in me to ride out my high. I so badly want to scream in ecstasy as all the pleasure washes over me.

“Geoff thinks it’s best if we start in North America before moving the tour to Europe. He wants to check with you first before we start calling venues and hotels for your arrival. I also think it would be a great idea to give you a bit more time with Y/N. So Shawn what do you say?” Andrew says through the phone as Shawn looks at me. I’m in a daze trying to regain my composure. Shawn slide me off his lap and stands up.

“I think that’s great! Maybe she can be with me during the North American tour, yeah? This so great and all the buzz of SM3 is amazing.” Shawn hums to Andrews response more and my eyes slowly start to close. The undoing of a belt buckle makes me immediately open my eyes again. Shawn stands before me phone between his shoulder and neck a he undoes his pants. In two minutes tops Shawn stands in all his naked glory before me. The conversation with Andrew continues as Shawn sits back on his couch and pull me on to his lap. He presses the phone to his chest to avoid Andrew hearing our conversation.

“Take everything off and sit on my lap now” I listen to him and quickly remove any article of clothing I may on. I make a move to straddle Shawn’s lap, but he turns me around so I’m facing the large view windows looking out towards the city. We are only a few floors above the city, so anyone who looks while see my naked body on full display. It makes me wetter at the thought of being caught by people walking.

“Andrew it’s hard! I can’t have three songs recorded by midnight without anyone here! Yes, Y/N’s here….. I’m not kicking her out! ANDREW!” Shawn yells into the phone followed by Andrews response trying to calm down Shawn. I can feel his erection poking my back and I reach behind and give a gentle squeeze. His hips buck up at the sudden contact and he groans into the phone. I bite my bottom lip and start to slowly move my hand up and down his thick erection. His grunts and groans encourage me to continue.

“A-And-Andrew, I-I’m g-going to call you back!” Shawn rushes the words out and throws the phone somewhere in the room. His hips continue to buck to meet my movements and I speed up my movements. His breath becomes rapid and ragged as I move my thumb over the slit of his member.

Previn layers the tip and I rub my thumb in the in the slit in which I receive a hiss fro Shawn.

“Fuck! I hate how innocent you look and yet your a deadly tease when it comes to intimacy” Shawn utters before he hisses once again. I remove my my hand from his throbbing member and start to inch my thumb with Shawn’s precum towards my lips. Shawn hand yank me back by my ponytail as he watches me lick my thumb. I lick it as if it were a lollipop and keep my eyes on Shawn’s. He rolls his eyes back realsing my hair while he rubs his hands over his face.

“You’ll be the death of me Y/N” Shawn groans as he pulls at the end sod his hairs.

I let a smile take over knowing this wasn’t the time or place, but I couldn’t let a opportunity like this slip through my fingers.

“Say swear to god”

“Seriously?” Shawn groans while opening his eyes to me.

“Say it”

“I swear to god” I pull him in into a kiss without noting that his is slowly lifting me up. As the kiss continues a sudden pain is felt as Shawn thrust into me unexpectedly. I whimper into the kiss as the sudden penetration which halts the kiss. My head lays tucked near his neck as he lifts my legs onto the couch. I lost hum as the move at send a pleasure through my body as his erection slowly moves thrusts in me. A hand comes to my throat and gives a gentle squeeze while the other travels down my body leaving a path of goosebumps. The warmth of his touch adds a much needed arousal to my aching clit. The anticipation is killing me inside as Shawn traces my hip bones before making their way to my throbbing clit.

“So precious and only for me” he grins as his fingers open up my folds to gain contact with my clit. As soon as his fingers rub my clit I’m a withering mess on his lap. My eyes roll back as I desperately try to add friction and bounce myself on his erect member. I won’t last not like this. My legs are giving out on me, I’m so close and need a release.

“Stay open for me baby” Shawn growls into my ear as he has a tight hold around my neck. My moans arms muffled as he squeezes my throat to send me closer to the edge. His lips are on my leaving a dark mark that will be hard to hide tomorrow.

“So close Shawn!” I scream out as I few the heat building up in my abdomen. His breath is cold against my heated skin. There is a new sensation and I see Shawn thrusting his hips up in a taping pace without removing his assaults on my throbbing clit. My legs keep threading to close on me and Shawns separations then again. It’s like a small battle which I losing. Small sobs escape my lips as his fingers start to flick my clit over and over again. This could be a punishment and it would matter because anything he does is with care and love.

“Shhh.. it’s okay princess. Just let go-ahhh” I interpret Shawn as my orgasm washes over my sweat covered body. My abdomen muscles clench and I clench at the force of my orgasm. Shawn’s halts his thrusts and slowly rubs my clit to ride out my high. It feels like pure bliss, but the moment soon diminishes in thin air. Shawn expertly turned me over so I did a full circle on his erect member. Our chests touch and my hands place themselves on his shoulders. His hands trace down towards my waist he slowly moves me in a riding motion in.

“So precious, and I can’t get enough of you” I hum as I watch sweat run down his forehead. His lips part and soft grunts leave his mouth. Shawn’s neck vain is prominent as he moves my hips faster on his lap. His hands hold onto my hips harder surely to leave bruises. His abs clench together signaling his close, and watching him become out of breath throws me over the edge once again.

“Fuck!” Shawn groans outs as he halts my movements bucking his hips up uncontrollably as he orgasm washes over him. My head falls onto his sweat covered shoulder and I bite down on it as Shawn’s fingers place themselves once more in my sensitive clit. I whimper and whine as he starts to rub harder and faster.

“It’s okay baby…. just one more. I know you can give me one more, can’t you?” He whispers in my ear before trailing his lips down my neck. I hesitantly nod and before I know it my third orgasm washes over my body blurring my vision. My chest heaves up and down with the overstimulation. Shawn hands wrap around me and pull into his flushed body to try and calm me down. Tears fall down my cheeks when he rubs my back in soothing circles.

“I’m so sorry baby” he says over and over again as I shake my head against his neck.

“Don’t be Shawn” I tell him knowing that I could have used the safe word, but I haven’t felt this close to him in so long. There’s a loud knock on the door startling us both as we jump and try to dress ourselves. The knob on the handle moves and loud banging comes with it. Shawn runs to the door and opens it and sees Andrew with Geoff on the other side. So glad we locked the studio door, but they will never let me come along to one of Shawn’s studio sessions again.

“Hey” I come up behind Shawn and look at Andrew and Geoff then back at Shawn. Andrew looks at me and then Shawn as do I. My eyes go wide as I spot the bite mark I left on his shoulder. I smack Shawn repeatedly which cause him to look down at me. I forgot he wore a muscle tee today to the studio.

“Umm… Shawn you have a little something right here” Geoff points to Shawn’s shoulder and he touches it and hisses in pain. I look down in embarrassment as Andrew sends Shawn a glare. Geoff tries to stifle his laugh as Andrew pulls Shawn into the hallway to talk.

“You know I’m never going to let you guys live his down right?” Geoff tells me as he looks through Shawn’s prompts for new songs. He hums in appreciation as he lands on one. I look over his shoulder to read it “birth of desire.” My cheeks redden knowing there’s more to the title. The door opens and Andrew comes in with Shawn who looks irritated and embarrassed.

“Well we’ll let you get back to work Shawn and we mean the lyrics portion” Andrew comments leaving the rooms before Shawn has the chance to throw a pillow at him for is comment. Shawn sits down on the couch and rubs his face.

“So how are my chances for coming to another studio session?” I ask him while placing my head on his shoulder. He looks down at me and shakes his head before laughing.

“Andrew said ‘this is your last chance Shawn or we are only going to have songs related to sex’ but he’s not wrong” Shawn finishes causing me to send him a playful glare. I give him a kiss before pointing at his journal to continue writing lyrics for SM3. He groans before taking the journal and flipping through the pages to continue writing. He sends me his famous smile which causes me to my heart to flutter and butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

The Montreal Problem

Chapter 8

Summary: The reader has big plans to spend a month in Montreal with her boyfriend. The problem? He breaks up with her just as her flight is leaving. Now she’s going to be stuck in an unfamiliar city for a month with no place to stay. That is, until an unexpected hero offers her a solution.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

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anonymous asked:

Dr Ferox, I went to the human doctor today and it wasn't half as nice as going to the animal doctor. My vet is good at communicating and listening and takes my concerns seriously. If I write down my cat's symptoms, he reads them. Vets are the best :)

Mate, I have had plenty of experience with human doctors over the last week, and there is a number of areas where I feel veterinarians perform better than their medico counterparts, including both specialists and GPS.

First of all after surgery I was told there will be a 4 week wait for results. That’s an insanely long wait time in veterinary medicine, where I’m used to getting my results in 5 days at the latest. What on earth could be so wrong with me that it takes 4 weeks to figure out?

Despite handouts detailing the procedure, there was not enough information provided about post-operative things that might be perfectly routine, but unexpected. I’m lucky enough to know what methylene blue is and how it’s handled by the body, but your average patient probably does not and might freak out.

Not once before surgery did anyone listen to my heart with a stethoscope.

My post-surgery dressings were not placed quite as they should have been, and no instructions were given as to what to do if you think there is a problem with a dressing.

There’s no list of medications I’d been given during the procedure. And I have to say needing to take an nsaid 4 times a day instead of once a day is a huge pain because inevitably it’s worn off while I’m sleeping.

I mean, the job is done, but the client communication and customer service side of the whole enterprise is distinctly lacking.

Maybe there is an attitude difference because a human doctor can expect their patient to do things in their own best interest, which includes following provided instructions, while a vet considers themselves lucky to have their instructions followed but I would have provided a lot more information about after surgery if I was my own patient.

You’re Gonna Love It

Originally posted by myoongim


Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Your attempts at studying surprise you with a new distraction that you can’t help but love

Word Count: 2,005

By: Admin Tokki

The end of the semester was coming all too fast in your opinion. Projects were starting to pile up and the time you had to complete them was running shorter and shorter. You sat at your desk, pencil tapping, feet swinging and papers blank while your roommate was going on about her coworkers at the university shop.

“So then I asked him if he wanted go commit murder with me next -.”

“What did you just say?” you asked, head whipping around to face her.

She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “I knew you weren’t paying attention. I think you may need to get out of the dorms if you want to focus on your projects.“ 

In any other case this would sound like she’s banning you from the room, but she knew you too well. It was just impossible for you to focus on your work when there was so much around you in your dorm to offset your attention from where you really needed it. It seemed like the only things you wanted to do at the moment were anything, with the exception of school work.

 "Where would I even go if I wanted to get this crap done? The library is always crowded at this time of the semester and the boys are always watching T.V in the lounge,” you counter with a sigh. 

You watched as Y/F seemed to ponder for a second, clearly struggling as much as you were to find an alternative to the convenient places located on campus.

“Well there is that new café that just opened at the old town center. I heard it’s nice and relaxing. Maybe that’s just what you need, ya know, plug in some music, block out everything else, the smell of coffee filling the place,” she said, inhaling as if she could actually smell it. What a coffee-holic you thought to yourself as you contemplated the idea. You weren’t the biggest fan of coffee, but at this point you were desperate to find a quiet area where you could get everything done before it really turned into a problem.

“I guess I’m headed to the café then. No harm in trying, right?”


The café was not what you expected, not even in the slightest. Judging by the modern style of the surrounding shops and restaurants, you were perplexed upon spotting the entrance. It wasn’t all that hard to find, seeing as how the accumulation of flowers and some chairs and tables made the previously vacant space stick out like a sore thumb. As you entered the establishment you were greeted with what Y/F might describe as a smell that transcended all other coffee. Although there were many vacant seats open by the front windows, you made your way towards the back area where there were booths next to several shelves of books. As you settled down and began to unpack your laptop and notes, you decided that the ambiance of this place might just be exactly what you needed.

As you began to work on one of your assignments, the feeling of being watched has you pausing to scan your surrounding a bit more thoroughly. A couple by the far front of the shop were laughing loudly over their lunch, while a few people sat alone, much like you but seemed completely focused in what they were working on. Finally, your sight landed on a pair of brown eyes that quickly broke contact with your gaze. It was the barista, currently cleaning off a booth across the room from you. He was rather tall and lean, dark brown hair complimenting his tan complexion. He was currently facing away from you, standing with a small towel in hand, being wrung as though he were nervous about something. Before you could think too much of it, he looked over and turned to you before making his way over to you, causing you to suddenly become extremely interested in the long and daunting article laid before you.

“Um, excuse me,” a quiet voice sounded, causing you too look up. Within a second you went from moderately shy and reserved to straight up bashful as you saw the face of the barista. Looking at his face alone you might have guessed he was younger than you, but the way his black long sleeve shirt clung to his figure had you guessing he was more or less your age, probably in his first or second year of college. You were still in awe looking at his warm brown eyes when he cleared his throat before going on with what he was trying to say.

“I don’t want to come off as rude, but well… sorry I’m new at working here, and as awkward as it feels to say this, you really do need to order something to stay in here,” he said quietly, quickly averting his eyes from your own as you processed what he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It didn’t even cross my mind!” However, now you had a dilemma. You quickly glanced at the large chalk board hung above the counter that stood behind him, but that didn’t help your decision as much as it did complicate the situation.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m not much of a coffee person, so I’m not entirely sure what I should order,” you said slowly, leaning forward, trying to catch his gaze.

At that he looked back up at you, contemplating with pursed lips.

“Well, there are a couple of popular drinks that I could recommend,” he stated before beginning to list off a few. To be quite honest they all sounded really good, and you weren’t exactly the best at making quick decisions. Maybe it was due to the apprehension on your face or the amount of time you were contemplating that prompted him to ask, “How about, I surprise you and if you don’t like it, I’ll pay for your drink?”

You studied his inquisitive gaze before resigning to the fact that actually deciding on a drink could take you eons, and gently nodded in agreement.

He gave you a big smile, that left you staring, star struck, as he turned and made his way back behind the counter quickly working on a concoction of who-knows-what.

A few minutes passed of you trying to concentrate on your work before you heard footsteps approach once again. As you looked up, a hot drink was set in front of you, carefully placed away from your papers. He had that same bunny smile stuck on his face, as he watched you expectantly. You took the cup and before taking a sip you sent him a questioning glance, as if contemplating if it was poisoned with something that would magically knock you out until after all your projects were past due.

He simply chuckled to himself before egging you on, “I promise, you’re gonna love it.”


Ever since that day that first day at the coffee shop, you couldn’t stop visiting. You told your roommate and yourself it was because of how productive the atmosphere made you. Simply studying at your desk didn’t cut it for you anymore, no matter how much you cleared your surroundings of all distractions. Your trips to the café became a regular occurrence, so much so that the barista, who you later learned to be named Jungkook, would automatically look up a crazy recipe to try and serve it to you, a smile always on his face. A couple of times when the café wasn’t too crowded he would come and join you at your now favorite booth and you two would talk about college and your interests until customers started to trickle in again. You learned that although he was in college as well, he wasn’t too sure about what he wanted to. At this point, he wanted try a little bit of everything since, as he put it so humbly, he was “good at everything, but not exceptionally great at one thing.” Occasionally you would exchange music playlists for studying, or revise material by explaining it to one another. In a way, a friendship of sorts began to bud through these study sessions.

All of this continued on until finals week came, and you found yourself too busy with the extended class periods and exam schedules. There were only two days of exams left, and you desperately needed to take a break from studying so hard, and so you retreated to your newfound haven. The walk to the café was cold and rainy, so as you closed your umbrella and entered the building, the warmth permeated you on a physical level but also brought upon instant soothing to your mind. Unfortunately, as you made your way to your booth, you realized that Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. Setting your stuff down, you walked up to the counter to order your drink. The pink haired barista who was eagerly concentrated typing on his phone shot his head up to look at you before tucking his phone away and asking what he could get you. It took you a while to decide, as you realized you had never had to order for yourself here before, always being served with one of Jungkook’s ‘masterpieces’ as he liked to call them. After choosing a drink you thought might be similar to what you would normally get, you sat back down and started to read a book from the shelf behind your seat. It was one that Jungkook had pointed out and suggested as a nice read for stressful days.

Quite a while had passed and the sun had begun to go down before you heard someone rush through the door, a gust of cold air following them in. When you looked up you were met with the sight of Jungkook, mouth agape and hair a little misplaced as though he had just ran a mile or two. As his bright and searching eyes settled on you, he smiled and walked up to you.

“Hey, Y/N! I was worried I wouldn’t catch you before you left.”

“Oh, how did you know I was here?” you asked, head tilting in confusion. Jungkook’s big smile quickly shrunk as a bashful look crossed his face.

“Jimin texted me you were here, but I just got done with taking one of my exams. I’m sorry I couldn’t serve you one of my masterpieces today. It’s a real shame too since you’ll be gone for winter break.”

At the mention of your leaving campus and visits with Jungkook being put on hold, the air between the two of you went awkwardly silent for a bit. You avoided his gaze as you voiced what the both of you were thinking.

“I’m going to miss our talks… and the drinks you make me,” you mutter, ending with a small chuckle.

When you look up, Jungkook is looking at you – no. It’s as if he’s looking through you, obviously thinking hard about something, before his gaze snaps back to meet yours.

“About that, I was wondering,” he spoke, confidence trailing off with each passing word. He let his gaze fall to the ground between where the two of you stood before continuing.

“I was wondering if, perhaps, when you come back for next semester, if you would like to go out? Like… on a date… with me.”

You stood a bit shocked but not entirely surprised at his words but more by his actions. His attitude and posture seemed so meek compared to the confident and high-spirited boy you had befriended these past few weeks.

“That sounds lovely,” you said quickly, not wanting to prolong his nerves.

“Really?” he questioned smiling at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really,” you said beaming back at him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

At that he flashed you a mischievous smile, before leaning in to hug you tightly as he responded, “It’s a surprise, but I know you’re gonna love it.”

A/N: AAhhhhh!!! The feels *dies*. I killed myself with feels THAT I MYSELF CREATED ( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) the betrayal sorry we haven’t posted much since the initial ones. College is currently kicking our butts and we’ve been karate chopping right back at it, however it has left us a bit behind schedule. I’ve mentioned to admin Nabi a possible challenge we may be doing during winter holidays but we’ll let you know when that is 100% for sure. I hope you guys really like this!! Sending good vibes and good luck to everyone out there trying to get their grades up as finals week is starting to close in on us! Fighting!!

-         Admin Tokki

🐰
Then

Summary: A little drabble based on the song Then by Brad Paisley

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 854 with lyrics

Warnings: None. All fluff.

A/N: I’m trapped in parent conferences and getting sick, so I wrote this as an escape. I needed Dean today and maybe you do too.

Originally posted by atc74

Dean stood at the edge of the vast, overgrown field, staring into the rapidly darkening sky, watching as the blue was kissed by rays of pink and gold light. He let his mind wander as he waited and, as always, it wandered right back to you.

I remember, trying not to stare, the night that I first met you
You had me mesmerized
And three weeks later, in the front porch light
Taking forty-five minutes to kiss goodnight
I hadn’t told you yet
But I thought I loved you then


4 years ago

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“Do you understand now” prompt

Kat has had boyfriends before.  She has had sex with men before.  She had experienced every single heterosexual experience she could and was totally fine with all of that.  Were they the greatest moments in her life? No.  Did she enjoy herself? Sure. Most of the time.  In fact the brief relationships she had with men were nothing short of pleasant.  Were they the things that movies and epic romance novels were made out of? No.  But maybe that wasn’t for her. Maybe those moments and experiences were for other people.

Kat was totally fine with that.

She would just have her flings, and go from dude to dude and that would be enough for her.  

Love and commitment was terrifying to her, so it really didn’t matter if she would never experience that.

Really, it was all good.

But when a mysterious, confident, beautiful, and female artist walked into her life one day…suddenly she was not fine, and nothing was “all good”.  

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Daydreams of a Reylo fic

OK, so I discovered Landscape with a blur of conqueror’s by @kylorenvevo (diasterisms on AO3) a couple of days ago. Reylos, you MUST read that fic, it’s bloody amazing. One of the best, if not the best, I have read. Her way of conveying you into a whole new world is fascinating. And she stays so in-character! I love it, adore it. Can’t wait for the updates. 

I have SO many headcanons for that fic…I am no writer, I have never written any fics, and english is not my first language but I have this scene in my head that has tormented me for days. *needs to come out*

I hope the author will not be mad at me for having the audacity of writing about her wonderful fic, so I want to put a massive disclaimer here, the story/fanfic is not mine. And I don’t know where she is taking it. This is just my own crazy mumbo jumbo. But here it goes…

The wedding day has arrived. 

Rey appears in the doorway of the massive celebration hall, where she is to take Kylo for husband. For husband. Kriff. Thousands of eyes suddenly turn back at her. She has never felt so nervous. She holds her father’s arm a little too tight. But her mind is elsewhere…it drifts back to the day before, when she and Kylo fought bitterly. The past weeks had been a torment. She had lost her temper and felt guilty after spatting dark words at him; words she didn’t mean. Even is he had been such a jackass to her, she had hurt him, and deeply ; she knew it, by the way he had tried to approach her then, shaking and livid, words dying on his tongue before he could formulate them. He had cast her a sad and almost desperate glance before retreating in his quarters like a wounded animal…

Suddenly, she drifts out of her daydream to look at Kylo who is standing before her. She hates to admit it, but he looks as Royal as ever, with his dark hair, piercing brown eyes and pink regal lips. 

At her sight, Kylo swallows heavily. So much beauty slightly hidden under that long, embroidered veil, he thinks. Their gaze meet. On his pale face, she reads a mixture of awe, but also, carefully hidden behind his mask, pain. He stands, looking as proud and self-confident as he could ever be, before the thousands of people that are gathered at the ceremony. He knows how to hide his feelings from everyone. Except her. His force signature is transparent and through the force, she feels his utter sadness. She could think it serves him well, after all he has done to her, but the weirdest part is that she doesn’t. She would have preferred not to be the reason of that pain. It means only one thing…he cares. And she doesn’t know how to deal with this insane truth. 

Her father passes her arm to him. He takes it and she settles herself next to him in silence, not daring to look at him anymore. Both of them vaguely listen to the priest’s word, his eyes sometimes wandering over her, trying to catch her gaze again. 

For protocol, she knows Kylo has to kiss her. As they exchange their rings, he doesn’t let her hand go, and keeps it in his. He lowers his gaze towards her and it is so intense, it almost hurts ; she cannot take her eyes of him. He carefully lifts the veil and then, ignoring all kind of protocol, he places his strong, warm hands on both sides of her face and takes her mouth. She shivers. All his secret passion pours into her through the force at once…but there is something more, something unexpected, that he is begging though his kiss: forgiveness. His lips are so soft and pouchy, it wakes up something feral and unknown in Rey’s spine. She opens her eyes slightly, meeting his gaze again. They both look each other, and she lost for anything to say. 

At night, the celebration and ceremony is over. It had been made pretty clear by everyone that they should share a bridal room together, because of, you know, customs. Rey is without her ladies. She is alone with Kylo, who enters the room and without a word, sits on the huge sofa, as if determined to no walk into her personal space. He looks at her from behind his piercing, dark eyes. 

Rey tries to ignore him, and goes strait to the bathroom to change. Better get into that bed and not move for the rest of the night. Nevertheless, after a first attempt, she encounters a slight problem. Her dress is way too tight and she cannot undo it herself. Her throat is dry at the sheer though of what this means. Gathering her strength, she goes back into the room. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t…” she says in a weaker voice than she would have wanted, pointing a finger at her back. 

Kylo, who, she instantly remarked, had terrible timing and already had discarded his coat and was left only with his silk shirt which showed just a little too much of his broad, muscular figure, only managed to say is “oh”…before standing up and slowly walking towards her. Acting on instinct, she turns over and puts a hand on the wall before her, offering her back. 

If Kylo had taken off his coat, he hadn’t taken off his beloved gloves. With a instant of hesitation, he bites one with his mouth, and takes the other one off, throwing them both on the floor.  He then looks at her back, and let out of low growl. He wants to protest about how in heaven women wear such complex garnement, but finally decides against it. In silence, he starts unfastening the laces of her very-well adjusted corset, which slowly reveal her naked creamy skin. 

How am I he supposed to do this? he thinks to himself. He is a man, after all. She is now his wife, Force sake. Temptation creeps under his skin.

Without a word, he gently put his fingers on her bare, soft skin. She shivered and tenses. 

The feeling sent like an electric current through Kylo’s whole spine. 

That’s where he looses it. And hell breaks free. 

Slowly, he approaches her from behind, his lips finding her neck and brushing it, laying a soft, delicate kiss. She let out a small gasp. Her whole body tenses. How dare he? 

But the feeling is so intense. His lips are hot and humid, betraying his most secret need. She closes her eyes, not daring to move. Kylo softly brushes more of her neck and rises to kiss her ear. Rey’s pulse is racing, her lungs searching for air, eyes still shut. Is that pleasure she is feeling? How in heaven can this man, of all men in the galaxy, achieve such a thing? 

Sensing her inner conflict, Kylo whispers in her ear : “One word from you… and ever will I touch you again” He means it. If she rejects him now, he swears to himself he will never be so foolish again. He has his pride, after all. 

An internal war is raging in Rey’s mind. Her head wants to turn around and slap him. But Oh! her whole body doesn’t want him to stop. She breathes heavily but says nothing. 

His kisses get more passionate as he feels completely intoxicated by her. He looses himself in her scent, and wouldn’t have noticed even if Snoke himself  entered the room. He licks her neck, and lays his hands on her shoulders, caressing her arms from top to bottom. There is a small hot spot down in Rey’s body that wakes up from an unknown place, something she knows she has never felt in this fashion. Desire.

Suddenly, with a flick of his hand, her dress drops to the floor, revealing her body. On instinct, Rey covers her chest. He caresses her back, but she slowly turns around, her cheeks reddened by both her own prudishness and desire. She looks down, too ashamed to look at him. He places a finger under her jaw and delicately lifts it up. Brown eyes meet hazel. His eyes are dark, almost feral. She stares at him and what lays simmering behind them. Lust.

Their gaze devour each other in silence. There is no need for words. Kylo approaches his lips to kiss her but she draws back, as if suddenly scared, only for her back to meet the wall behind her. He moves towards her, and pins her on the wall between his two way too strong arms, and his face is dangerously close to hers. 

“I want you, I need you” he says with blatant honesty, in a low, rash voice…before whispering in her ear, in an oddly familiar fashion “Don’t be afraid”. 

She almost can’t believe what she is hearing. But through the force, she feels him, his need, his lust…and also, deep down, his caring for her. And she knows he feels the same from her. There is no lie. Through the force, they are one. 

Her eyes move from his gaze to his soft pink lips, which are begging for hers. His maleness is utterly intoxicating ; his scent is driving her mad. She breathes heavily, gasping for air. She puts her arms around his strong neck and surrenders to him. If this is surrendering to darkness, then be it. Kylo takes her mouth with ardent, burning passion. She lets him play with her tongue and reciprocates. He kisses her neckline, lowers to her breasts, his hands finding treasures he would never have dreamed of. And the world goes blank. 

anonymous asked:

hello! uhm im the leader for my research group in class. we've been doing so good except for this week because of me. i don't know if this correct in english but like my mental health crashed and i can't bring myself to work on it and lead my group like i used to and ive been ignoring their messages for a whole week now and i don't know how can i get back to it and to my groupmates.. ;;

perhaps it would be best if you update your group mates and tell them you’re not feeling great?? reorganise things so that either someone else takes over. i get that you’re going through a hard time and i’m so sorry and i hope you feel better soon but regardless, you have to stop ignoring your group mates and update them bc it’s not fair on them to go mia on them. pick up the phone - if you can’t send a message to everyone, just send one message to someone letting them know and ask them to pass on the message, or send one mass email or something. just do something so that you’re not ignoring your group mates + your responsibility as a leader

anonymous asked:

I am currently 140lbs. A month ago I was still 140lbs. A few weeks ago it was so easy for me to lose weight. I had lost 5 pounds and the week wasn't even over yet. Now it's the hardest thing to do and I have no idea why. I feel like a failure because all I did was gain back the weight I lost. Any ideas how to get more self-control?

- try staying away from the kitchen, you’ll only be tempted to eat if you’re near it!
- stay away from ppl who tend to overeat/eat bad foods
- study, study, study! not only does it keep you distracted, but it helps you keep up your grades too!
- watch your favourite tv shows/movies (or start a new one!)
- read! read at least half an hour a day
- listen to music
- if your cravings are getting really bad, go for a walk (don’t take any money with you, it’ll only tempt you to buy food at shops)
- if you really think you need to eat something (e.g. you feel sick, dizzy, or faint) wait till the hunger pangs stop and then eat. waiting till the feeling of hunger stops makes you less likely to eat as much

hope i could help, and remember, recovery is always the best option!💕

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

Everyone Lived.

Everyone lived. When Harry was born, Lily hardly saw him because Sirius was fitting him into a tiny leather jacket, Remus was reading to him, and James was already trying to sneak him to the Quidditch supply store to get Harry his first toy broom. Christmases were spent with full bellies and rooms stuffed with laughter, and there wasn’t a single person without flushed cheeks from all the wine. Lily’s eyes sparkled, and there was always a joke on the tip of James’ tongue. All Harry knew was love, love, love, from every corner of the universe.

Everyone lived, and every Thursday afternoon, Sirius and Remus took Harry to the “library”, which was the secret word they taught him for the ice cream parlor. With each trip, they ordered the biggest sundae that was offered with three spoons, and Harry always ate nearly all of it. They kept it up until the day Harry asked Lily to take him to the library and, when confronted with the shelves piled high with books, he asked her where they went to order their ice cream.

Remus and Sirius got married when Harry was three, and Harry was the ring bearer. Lily cried the first time she saw him in his tiny dress robes. They were just long enough that he nearly tripped halfway up the aisle. There wasn’t a single pair of dry of eyes in the audience that day.

Everyone lived, and on Harry’s sixth birthday, he celebrated alongside Neville with all their friends and family. James gave Harry his first set of toy Quidditch balls. He, Ron, Neville, Draco, and Ginny all played together until Draco pushed Neville off his broom and into the cake Alice had spent hours working on. Lily tried so hard not to laugh at Neville’s frosting-covered face, but instead she went beet red and gave herself away to everyone.

Draco said he was sorry. He actually meant it.

Everyone lived, and the moms had a Lockhart book club, which consisted of everyone getting wine-drunk and complaining about their husbands together. Draco, Neville, Harry and Ron eavesdropped and reported back to their dads, who were standing around the kitchen armed with beer, about what they did wrong that week. Each of the meetings somehow coincidentally ended with each of the men stopping by to bring their respective wives bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolate “because they just felt like it.”

Everyone lived, and Draco and Harry were friends, believe it or not. When Narcissa and Lucius had a date night, they dropped Draco off at the Potters. James told them scary stories in the darkness of their blanket tent. Lily used magic to cast shadows all over their living room, and Harry and Draco wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. But Lily kissed each of their foreheads and assured them each that everything would be fine, because she and James would never let anything bad happen to either of them.

She meant it.

Draco and Harry stayed up until their eyelids were simply too heavy to bear, but Harry managed to remain awake till Draco was completely asleep before closing his eyes. It was one of the most peaceful things he’d ever seen. He wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that. Not yet, anyways.

Everyone lived. Everyone got a little bit older. The kids all went off to Hogwarts, somehow managing to stuff themselves all into one train compartment, even with Hermione once she joined. Draco and Harry got put into different houses, which was a relief to everyone around them. “they already bickered like a married couple without rooming together,” Ron said when they were first sorted, “I don’t want to think about what we’d have to deal with if they were sharing a dorm.”

The only time Harry and Draco forgot about their friendship was when they played against each other in Quidditch. There were no rules when you needed to be the first one to the snitch.

(I suppose there weren’t any rules when it came to making out with your best friend in an empty corridor after drinking half a bottle of fire whiskey, either.)

Sixth year came with sly glances and brushing fingertips in the hallway; throwing all caution to the wind and risking friendship for feelings Harry and Draco had been denying since they were kids. Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks, but no one said a word. Not even when Harry inconspicuously crept out of bed nearly every night at half past two with his Invisibility cloak in tow, not returning until the sun was just peeking out over the mountains, if at all. He looked happier than ever that year, secrets tugging on the corners of his mouth every time he spoke.

Everyone lived, and when Draco and Harry came out to their families their seventh year, everyone groaned. “You owe me ten Galleons,” was the first thing James said to Lucius, and Harry knew then that everything was going to be okay.

Because everyone was here, surrounding him, breathing, alive. They all hugged him and Draco at once, cheeks smooshed together, a mess of laughter and “I love you’s” and kisses on foreheads. They were all connected then, their pulses stitching them together with a bond Harry knew nothing could break.

They all knew hurt; they knew pain and suffering, and they knew loss, but most of all, they knew each other. They knew love, and they knew hope.

As they stood there, a giant amoeba of people from all walks of life, some more challenging than others, Harry let go of the breath he felt as though he had been holding for his entire life.

The Minyard-Josten Pros’ Coming Out

Or, That Time Andrew Got Pissed And Posted The Video That Broke The Internet

  • Years down the line, our boys are both pros and Neil is getting annoyed at all the press conferences that get derailed by either the Josten-Minyard rivalry or whether he is or isn’t in a committed relationship as some gossip magazines have been implying
  • he’s not allowed to deal with it, though
    • he’s actually not allowed to say anything to the press that his coach and PR team haven’t approved of
    • he calls it bullshit
    • he only ever antagonized a dangerous yakuza criminal once
    • people really can’t let anything go, in this sport

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anonymous asked:

what are your general thoughts on wyoming?

Before working at the greenhouse in FoCo, I didn’t understand people’s obsession with tomatoes.  I still don’t understand WHY people are like this, the plants are fussy and unpleasant to work with and tomatoes taste like concentrated mouth sores to me, but as least now I have some inkling of the depths of madness edible nightshades can drive people to*. I watched a pair of octogenarian women get in a fistfight over the last Amish Paste we had that week, another man break down in tears over the fact we were out of Mortgage Lifters until next Teusday, and my own manager wax poetic about recent developments in hybridization.

*I could understand if it was Potatoes, THOSE are amazing

The greenhouse I worked at grew ours in-house, to the tune of four long arched green houses and 40 different breeds of tomato, started in February and staggered to last most of the season. We sold something to the tune of ten thousand mature plants per season, and four times that in starters, the manager explained with pride, the two anatolian-ridgeback mixes drooling happily on my leg during employee orientation.

“Who buys That Many tomatoes?” I asked, naieve. 

My manager’s dark laughter should have been a warning.

During one of the hailstorms in late May, the greenhouse was, briefly, blessedly deserted, if deafeningly loud as the sky hurled balls of ice onto the cheap plastic roof.  My manager had left early that afternoon and so I was left to manage that fifth of the business largely unattended.   I was watering the Fucking Tomatoes when two of the roundest miniature Australian shepherds I’ve ever seen appeared at my feet, wheezing happily.  Looking up, I found a pair of equally gleeful humans behind them, sun-burnt and wearing matching Jimmy Buffet shirts.

WE’D LIKE SOME TOMATOES.” The man bellowed over the roar of hail.

“WE HAVE MANY TOMATOES.” I shouted back, gesturing at the wall of tomatoes behind me.

GREAT!” howled the woman. “CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT THEM? WE’VE NEVER DONE TOMATOES BEFORE.

Since I was alone, I spent the next forty-five minutes screaming the attributes of all forty breeds of tomato at them, unable to hear myself speak over the rain, hail and wind, and already dissociating from the noise. I have no idea what I actually said to these people. I might have claimed they were bred on the moon. We got to the end, my throat raw, and fat little Aussies drooling on my shoes.

WHAT DO YOU WANT MARIE?” The man asked.

I DON’T KNOW, THEY ALL SOUND EXCELLENT.” Marie considered. “LETS GET THEM ALL HOWARD.

what.

GOOD IDEA.  WE’LL TAKE FIVE OF EACH.” said Howard.

WHAT.

That’s 200 plants and at $10 a pop, $2000 dollars worth of tomatoes. Why.  I get the extra-large cart out and start loading the tomatoes on. How. I wonder as It takes me three lumber carts to get them all up to the register to scan them.

WE’RE FROM CASPER.” Howard said, like that would explain anything. “THE BIG BLUE HOUSE, YOU CAN SEE IT FROM 25.

Having driven through that part of Wyoming several times to and from Grand Teton, I actually knew about the house in question. “OH YES. WE USE THAT HOUSE TO KNOW WE’RE HALFWAY TO TETON AND TO GET LUNCH.”

YOU SHOULD STOP BY NEXT TIME YOU’RE AROUND.” said Marie.

“OKAY.” I said, for some reason, and helped them out to the parking lot where I discoved they’d apparently driven down in an actual Short Bus, modified to be a sort of camping vehicle, with seatbelts and custom dog-beds for the Fat Aussies, apparently named “Florence” and “Mashmallow”.  I waved cheerfully to them, ears ringing and white lights flashing in my eyes from the continuous noise and feeling like I’d stepped out of my correct timeline.  I found one of the other managers and told them I’d just made them $2k, had a migraine and was going home.


A month and a half later, the seasonal job had ended and I was driving to Washington to see a friend and I happened to be passing through Casper.  In need of a break and eternally curious, I decided to try to find the Big Blue House and see if any of the tomatoes had survived.  It took me a bit to find the correct frontage road but as I was driving by the front yard-

[REDACTED] HOW ARE YOU?” bellowed Marie. somehow spotting and recognizing me. “I’M SO GLAD YOU CAME, COME SEE THEM!

Apparently they just talk like that all the time, but I had a lovely half hour in which Marie and Howard took me on a lovely tour of their experimental self-sustaining farm with the trout pond and chickens and the 200-still-alive-and-apparently-thriving tomato plants.  Given that tomatoes are happiest when hydrated But suffering, Casper turned out to be a good choice.  They’d also gotten some 30 varieties of corn, 15 types of potatoes and 12 types of carrots and Howard was looking into Beans and Squash for next year.

IT WAS VERY NICE OF YOU TO COME OUT.” said Howard.  “HERE, HAVE SOME HAM.

I thanked them, took my three pounds of sustainably-farmed Loud People Ham, and excused myself as I still had to get to Bozeman by that evening and they waved me goodbye from the driveway.

We’re still facebook friends.


(if you enjoy hearing about strange people I meet, please consider supporting my Tip Jar so I can buy groceries)

anonymous asked:

If your still taking requests then can you please give jack and Gabe a wedding like after the war and after the Talon thing like in there old age finally tying the knot?!?!?! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ please if not then thanks for the lovely artwork you make :3

I imagine them just going off somewhere quiet and having it. Ahhh,Thank you for kind words anon ❤️

and a probably more realistic version of scruffy old man Jack with his wraith husband <3

BTS replaced you. - pt.2

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3]


Originally posted by fairybcby

After the conversation we shared I muted the conversation, there was nothing I wanted to hear anymore and nothing I wanted to do but sleep. I was curious of what they had to say, if anything at all but at the same time I didn’t want to know because they probably don’t think it’s a big deal they’ve missed my birthday three years in a row. I sat at my dining room table, staring at the candlelit cake in front of me. It was their favourite, strawberry flavour and just looking at it reminded me of them and how they won’t be here again to share this too large cake for one with me.

For so long I believed that we were best friends, that we were inseparable and nothing or no one could come between the friendship we shared because we had been through so much with one another. But I was wrong. They let her get between us. I don’t want to be a selfish brat that I’m seeming to be, but they just forgot me so easily after spending a week with her, wouldn’t that hurt you? They used to be the first people to say happy birthday to me, even if they were away they’d never forget to FaceTime me at 12am - but this year, even though we were supposed to celebrate, they didn’t call at 12, they didn’t send me a text. Because they forgot, and they left me waiting for them like a fool standing outside the restaurant in the winter cold holding my own birthday cake. They promised. They promised that they were going to celebrate with me this year for sure, they even made sure they had no schedule clashes today so that we could celebrate, but just like that they forgot and I was replaced with someone new, someone better.

People looked at me funny, people who walked into the restaurant, had their meal and came back out to see me still standing there alone - they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. ‘That girl must’ve got stood up’ must be what they were all thinking. Yeah I was stood up by my seven best friends. The entire week they’ve been hanging out, the entire week they’ve dismissed me. ‘If it was important we would have remembered’ ‘Clearly wasn’t all that important’, that hurt to say the least, it only told me how much I didn’t mean to them, making it clear to me that they don’t need me in their lives anymore because they have someone new, someone that let’s them have the personal space that they needed and I understood now. I was only ever thinking of myself and what I wanted. Maybe they didn’t forget, maybe this was their way to tell me that our friendship is over. 

I blew out the candle without making a wish, wishes don’t come true. I’ve wished for the same thing the last two years and each following year I end up getting disappointed. I crawled into bed and went to sleep, eyes slightly wet from crying. But a few hours later, I heard my phone ring; I picked up without even checking the caller ID. 

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