one month and one day to go!!!

Irresponsible and Overbearing

Originally posted by sherrykinss

Spencer Reid x Reader

The air in the BAU was tense enough to cut through. Spencer and Y/N were giving each other looks crueler than ones the entire team got from unsubs combined. The members of the BAU just looked on curiously at their teammates trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Spencer and Y/N had been married for a couple years and Y/N had been pregnant for a couple of months. The two adored each other. Every single day when they were dating, and even to this day, Spencer brought a cup of Y/N’s favorite coffee (now decaf) and a pastry on special occasions to Y/N’s desk. Spencer had lead up to asking Y/N out by leaving items that reminded Y/N of her childhood with a note. The first day it was a Tomagochi, that Garcia had ultimately stolen from her. The second day he left Y/N’s favorite Dr. Seuss book, The Giving Tree, which she had lost the year before during her move to Quantico. The final day, which happened to be her birthday, he left the full set of the Harry Potter series in Arabic, the language that Y/N was trying to teach herself.

Spencer and Y/N were that one couple. They were the couple that everyone hated, because of how sappy they were, yet the couple that everyone wanted to be, because of how well one complemented the other. Y/N made Spencer actually for once admit that he might sometimes be wrong. And Spencer helped Y/N gain so much self-confidence, that she had previously lacked.

They had only ever seen Y/N and Spencer ever get into one fight. Y/N had found some Dilaudid in Spencer’s safe which he used to store his gun. Everyone had thought that the two were going to break up. Spencer was mad that Y/N was “snooping” and Y/N was mad that Spencer still kept the one thing that had almost ruined his life. Spencer, after he thought about it for a while, had realized that Y/N was only upset that he had had to go through that experience on his own. And Y/N had realized that having Dilaudid, although he never wanted to use it again, gave Spencer a bizarre sense of competence. He felt power knowing that if he had wanted to he could go back to the euphoric feeling that came with every high, but had chosen each and every single day not to. Although neither Y/N nor Spencer told the other about these revelations that had come with this fight, at least not that night.

That fight had occurred within the first year of them dating and now they were married 3 years and pregnant. The team was confused. Especially Agent Lewis, as she hadn’t been there to see the first fight occur.  

Finally, JJ grew up the courage to ask, “What on earth are you two fighting about?”.

“Y/N is irresponsible!” exclaimed Spencer.

Their teammates looked shocked as they had never seen Spencer ever insult anyone, let alone Y/N the love of his life.

“Please, Spencer is being overprotective and overbearing” spatted out Y/N.

“Okay, pretty boy you gotta break this down for the rest of us” said Derek.

“Y/N keeps on getting mad at me for making sure she’s healthy during the pregnancy of OUR child” said Spencer, emphasizing the word OUR.

“I wouldn’t get mad if he didn’t feed me rabbit food. I don’t care if I’m Popeye, no one should be eating spinach 24/7. I HATE SPINACH!” yelled Y/N.

The team finally started to understand what was going on in the heads of their favorite couple. Spencer, as big a heart he had, was trying to limit what Y/N could eat and he took it a bit too far like he tended to do. And Y/N was just sick and tired of being forced to eat healthy foods.

“Spencer, listen to me, you’ve got to let Y/N eat what she craves as well as healthy foods” said JJ comfortingly.

“Reid, don’t go overboard or Y/N will hate you, trust me” added Hotch.

While Penelope added, “you both just have to remember that you love each other and when you fight it breaks our hearts” before wrapping Y/N in a light hug.

“I guess I can cut down on the spinach, and let you have things you crave, but only if you eat more vegetables” said Spencer.

“I’ll only eat more vegetables if you promise to tell me when I’m being a hormonal bitch” said Y/N before going over to where Spencer was sitting and hugging him as tight as she could, without ending blood flow to the future Annabel Diana Reid.

Spencer chuckled before pulling down Y/N so that she could sit in his lap, and rubbing her just visible baby bump. The others smiled as they looked onto their resident genius and Y/N, look happier than they had ever been.

“Hey Spence?” started Y/N.

“Yeah?” asked Spencer.

“Can I get pistachio ice cream?” continued Y/N as their teammates started to snicker.

Spencer just grinned before he pressed a loving kiss to Y/N’s cheek.

A/N - Spring Break is over :( I’ll try my best to keep posting imagines! I hope you guys like this and please leave me comments! And remember request ARE STILL OPEN! I love ya’ll!

Sammy Moo’s 300 Follower Celebration

I just want to start off by saying thank you all. I seriously never imagined I’d get this many followers. I had always thought my blog was bland and boring; that no one would even bother. But since I created this blog I had entered into a fandom that is more than a fandom. It’s family. And I was welcomed with open arms. 

I’ve made some amazing friends along the way and hope to make many more. I was even encouraged to start posting imagines, one shots, and even fics. 

And to kick off that celebration we are going to do just the exact thing that inspired me. It’s going to be the birthday challenge. Not my birthday, but your’s. 

On Pinterest I find many different ideas and one of them was sorted into different months with a different idea for each day. So if you want to join this writing challenge, just send me an ask with the month and day you were born! In turn I will give you the prompt. And since April 1st is coming up we’ll use that as an example. The prompt for that day is calendar. You can decide where it takes you. If it’s inspired by it or even has the word in it. And if you decide to use the word in it, please make note of it. 

I will have sign ups for one week starting today. The deadline will be May 5th. And you can do anything and any genre! It can be any pairing/ship or any character/actor from Supernatural. OCs and AUs are welcome too! Length doesn’t matter but please add the read more feature if it’s over 500 words! 

When you post them please tag me and use the tag #sammy-moo’s 300 celebration and #ela’s 300 birthday challenge

Tagging some people to spread the word: @kinkystevesgirl, @timeforsmut, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @sleepywinchester, @keelzythe2nd, @because-imma-lady-assface, @growningupgeek, @impala-dreamer

waking up with stiles
  • raspy morning voice = turn on
  • supa messy (but supa cute) bed head
  • his hair would be either sticking out in every direction
  • or just lie as flat as a pancake on his head
  • soft, passionate morning sex
  • both of you having bad morning breath
  • but neither of you care
  • lots of nose kisses
  • one of you falling off the bed at least once
  • stiles having the coldest feet ever in the mornings
  • even if he was sleeping with 5 blankets
  • probably waking up with a couple of hickeys here and there
  • “stiles, we have to go to school.”
  • “no.”
  • “yes. you’ve been absent 34 days in this semester already. and it’s only been two months since this semester started.”
  • “shhh, lemme sleep.”
  • stiles would totally be the one to admire you when he wakes up before you in the morning
  • just like, he would take in every single inch of your face
  • and feel so warm and fuzzy and happy on the inside to have someone like you in his life
  • and he would subconsciously find himself smiling at you
  • and then you would wake up
  • and stiles would immediately close his eyes and pretend like he was actually sleeping
  • the sneaky bastard

note: gif used above is not mine.

Hi guys.

So my computer is pretty much shitting out. I’m looking into if it’d be cheaper to fix (we think it’s a harddrive problem) or buy a new one. I don’t exactly have a lot of money atm dealing with student loans and not being able to work until after my surgery, so there’s a chance that SaM will not be able to update for a month or more, depending when I can get this fixed.

I uploaded everything on an external harddrive but my old one shit out so I’m going to need to get a backup one just in case, too. Any and all commissions I will work hard to get them completed before April 27th, the day before my surgery, even if I have to use my old shitty 13 yo desktop and transfer the files through my parents computer.

Either way, I just wanted to let you guys know so if there isn’t any updates for a bit it’s because of this.

Thank you.

Inked

Pairing: TattooArtist!Daveed x Reader

Requested?: Nope. I’m literally just a slut for tattoos and @gratitudejoyandsorrow got this idea in my head, so this imagine was born. 

Prompt: Your first tattoo experience was more pleasant than you thought it would be. 

Words: 2.4k+

A/N: My first Daveed imagine and it is super self-indulgent, who would’ve thought? This is a Tattoo Artist AU (if I didn’t make it clear before) and I’m in love with it. Shout out to @diggs4life , @tempfixeliza , @helplesslylins and @secretschuylersister for being so encouraging and amazing these past couple days. Shout out to Lola for inspiring this! I hope you all enjoy :)

Originally posted by saymaybetothis


You were finally going to do it. After a year of contemplating, you had found the perfect tattoo to go under your collarbone. That was step one, you spent another month looking up all the tattoo parlors in the neighborhood and ultimately choosing one that had good reviews and modest prices. Today was your appointment and as you left your front door and entered the summer heat, you could feel the urge to chicken out clawing at the back of your mind.

No.

This has been put off for far too long. It was now or never. So you took a deep breath and continued the trek to the bus. 20 minutes later you found yourself outside the parlor, 5 minutes earlier than the time you set with the man on the phone. You stared at the door as if it was going to open and pull you in itself but, you had to make the move. With the last burst of confidence you had, you swung open the door and stepped inside. Waiting there to greet you was a man with medium brown hair and dark green eyes, his tank top left little to the imagination as your eyes were instantly pulled to his many tattoos over his arms and shoulders, stopping right at his neck. He glanced up as the doorbell rang, giving you a small smile as you made your way over.

Keep reading

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 3

A/N: This sort of ends abruptly, but if I didn’t end it here the imagine would have been extremely long so I’ll be posting part 4 within the next three days x 

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


Three months after Harry called off his relationship with Y/n, it was his birthday, and just like every other year for the past five, the boys decided to spend his birthday weekend at Louis’ family lake house. It was one of the few times a year they’d go- only saved for special occasions. It’s secluded, far from the city, but close enough so that it’s not too much out of their way.

Their tradition when it comes to Harry’s birthday weekend has remained the same for years now. A bonfire, a couple of poker games, countless amounts of beer, and occasional midnight skinny dipping. However, this year, the only change in tradition is Y/n not being there.

The second Harry steps foot out of his car, the whole idea of spending his birthday without Y/n makes him feel sick to his stomach. This was their favorite place to be together. They didn’t know why, but something about the privacy and the exclusiveness of it enhanced their relationship in unimaginable ways. They have had many occasions where they would flee from London without a word and spend a couple days alone here. 

The guys scurry out of the car in excitement, absolutely stoked to be back in the grand Tomlinson lake house. Harry sighs, slamming his car door shut before half-heartedly making his way inside.

He can’t blame their excitement when it came to the celebration weekend, however, they hadn’t seemed to notice how off Harry became the first couple of hours upon their arrival. But what else did he expect? He didn’t tell them, he didn’t tell them any of it. He didn’t want to. He knew they knew, anyways, but he had constantly beat himself up, blaming himself for destroying the one thing in his life he felt was genuinely worth fighting for. If he had told them what he did, he would never hear the end of it. He didn’t need anyone else to remind him of how much he had fucked up.

But ever since Y/n had left, something in him changed. He had no desire to fight anymore. Three days after he broke it off, he was worse than ever. Getting himself into numerous fights multiple times a day. It was his way of coping the loss of her, the loss of his only true humanity. However, when the fourth day came, and Harry started to really understand the fact that he was never going to see Y/n again, was when the pain really set in. He felt himself suffocating in a horrendous amount of guilt. 

She had tried so hard, she pushed him harder than anybody else had. Nobody put as much faith in him as she had. She stayed with him in times he truly didn’t deserve it. Hell, there were even days where she was so mad at him that all she could do was yell and yell and yell, and even then she still slept in the same bed as him. He couldn’t live with letting all of that go- letting her go- so he decided to prove himself wrong

It was the biggest fight of his life, the one against himself; when half of him wanted to inflict his pain onto other people and the other half wanting desperately to change himself for the sake of his relationship with Y/n. But he knew he was stronger than the monster inside of him, even though he believed he was weaker. What made him strong was Y/n’s relationship with him, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

It didn’t take Y/n more than a couple days to tell Zayn what had happened. He called her, asking what was going on since Harry had been a complete wreck with no sign of her in his life. She explained, in the best that she could between her harsh sobs and broken whimpers that Harry had left her. He broke up with her, tried to convince her that they didn’t belong together, and eventually confessed that he wasn’t willing to change for her. 

Y/n made him promise not to tell anybody else because she felt that this was Harry’s responsibility, not anybody else. Of course, Zayn kept his promise and never said a word about it to anyone. 

The rest of the guys tried to get it out of him, though. They never forced it, but occasionally mentioned her to see what he would say or do, but he just ignored them. The mention of her name killed him on the inside, and he, truthfully, still couldn’t face the reality that they aren’t together anymore.

To say the guys have been concerned for him is an understatement. Yeah, he’s stopped fighting, but he’s still not the same Harry he was when he was with Y/n. He’s constantly thinking, his mind always somewhere not where it’s supposed to be. He drinks more, too, which used to spike up his anger, but now only spikes up his sadness. He has no motivation to do anything besides stay in his house and dwell on the guilt he’s carried.

Getting him to the lake house is one of their ways of getting him to heal. They just don’t know how much this place kills him, though. God, he can’t even look at a single square inch of it without seeing her in his head. How the hell is he going to get through the weekend?

The boys begin to notice how hurt Harry is when he begins to prepare for the bonfire they planned on having later that night. This is Harry’s first birthday after his break up with Y/n, and instead of telling them how truly heartbreaking it was for him, he avoided that topic of conversation completely. He was already depressed enough, he didn’t need to bury himself in it on his own birthday.

While Harry sets up the firewood needed for the bonfire, he’s distant. He’s distracted, not consuming himself in any of the boys’ conversations. They know Y/n’s already on his mind, she’s the only one who gets him daydreaming.

Harry sighs, lifting heavy piles of wood and constructing them into a setup for later. He’s finished now, has been finished for a while, but he just can’t stop. All he can think about is how Y/n isn’t with him, how she’s probably in her new home, sulking, hating him for ruining her life. It’s his birthday, and she probably hates him.

He sighs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward, eyes trained on the ground. He just can’t get her out of his head, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, almost every waking moment he’s thinking about the first time they met.


They were at a party Zayn’s aunt decided to host. It was a casual-formal event, just something special for her close friends to feel welcomed to upon their return to London after being in the states for a while.

Zayn was, obviously, invited. His aunt even insisted on him bringing his best friends, which he probably would have done anyways because he wasn’t too familiar with the family the party was for. The only member he’s ever really talked to was Y/n. She was super shy, very introverted, but was extremely sweet nonetheless. She had talked to Zayn a couple times when they stayed at his aunt’s house simultaneously. Other than that, they didn’t talk much.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna stand in the corner all night?” Zayn approached Harry, a glass of vodka held loosely in his hands.

Harry was pissed he was even in the situation he was in. Social events weren’t his thing, never something he found entertaining. He didn’t care about this stupid family’s return, he didn’t even know them.

“This is the last goddam place I want to be right now” Harry seethed, “I’m pissed off at you for even fucking forcing me here, don’t force me to try and mingle too.”

He let out a slight grumble in Zayn’s direction before making his way to the mini bar. On his way, in the midst of his aggravation, he felt a body collide with his. He groaned, a slight growl in the mix, definitely not in any mood for people to get in his way.

“Watch where you’re-“

“Oh, sorry” the girl gasped, “didn’t see you there.”

Harry’s body immediately froze at the sight of her. She was the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. Her eyes were sparkling with sorrow, lips parted slightly due to the impact. Her outfit complimented her body shape beautifully, leaving him absolutely speechless.

“I- It’s okay” he stuttered, eyes never leaving her, “are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, completely captivated by the most handsome man standing in front of her. God, how he was so beautiful, she would have never known a man like this could ever exist in this world.

“I’m okay” she softly spoke, “thank you.”

Harry insisted on buying her a drink as a way to apologize for not exactly paying attention to where he was going. They chatted for a while, mainly about the party. Come to find out, she was the daughter of Zayn’s aunt’s friends. She hadn’t gone to the states with them, however, she didn’t really make too much of an effort to go and see her in her stay in London.

They were talking quite well, considering Harry definitely did give her an attitude at times and somehow made her feel extremely intimidated whenever he did so. But he had to admit, it was one of the best conversations he’s had in a while, despite his unfriendly character.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry finally asked.

She blushed slightly.

“I’m Y/n. And you?”

“Harry.”

“Oh, you’re Harry.” Y/n said quietly, a hint of realization in her tone of voice.

Harry didn’t like the way she said it, as if insulting him in a way. Which, for him, was a bit of a let down considering there was a moment where he genuinely believed she was different.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped, his voice somehow rougher and more raspy than how it was before, “Like you’re any better?“

His fierce stare upon her made Y/n feel belittled. When he spoke to her, he made her feel as if her existence was the dirt beneath his shoes. No wonder Zayn had warned her, no girl like Y/n could survive five minutes with such an intimidating man.

“Oh- um- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Zayn had told me to stay away from you.” She stuttered, her voice barely above a mumble.

She still refused to make eye contact with him, only for the sake of her safety. She was too afraid to look at him now, when his body seemed tense and eyes filled with aggression. She was an easy pray for people like him to feed on- to get a good kick out of.

“I should go” she muttered, “It was lovely to meet you.”

Almost too quickly, she grabbed her bag off the bar and began to make her way back to where she was before. However, before making it too far, she felt a hand grab ahold of her wrist.

He didn’t know why, but when he had seen the fear set in Y/n’s eyes, an overwhelming feeling of guilt set upon him. It was strange, to feel so much of it hit him over one girl’s reaction. He had done this many times to many people, all of which having a moment of complete vulnerability during his encounters with them. But they didn’t necessarily make him feel anything more than the slightest bit of regret.

“Hey” he whispered softly, delicately pulling her back to where he was standing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Y/n looked into his eyes as he spoke, giving her the reassurance she needed. He was genuine, she could tell, his eyes screamed sympathy.

“It’s oka-“

“But Zayn is right,” Harry continued, slowly letting her arm go “you should stay away from me.”

Before she had any time to react, he had walked away from her.

The rest of the night, Y/n was determined to speak to him again. After meeting him for the first time, she had an innumerable amount of questions she pressed Zayn to answer. Why is he always angry? Is he dangerous? But why was he so nice to me when I walked away?

Zayn explained that Harry wasn’t someone she should be concerned about. All he told her was that he had been hurt one too many times and it caused him to become violent towards those who threaten potential pain. He doesn’t apologize to anybody, and told her that it was quite strange how he had to her.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, that intrigued him so much. Besides the fact she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, she was so easy to talk with. She was quiet, and apart of him liked that about her. The moment he hurt her, he just felt so bad, like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Which is why he walked away from her.

When he saw Zayn later that night, he had asked about her. He asked how they had known each other, asked about her life and where she lived. He was determined to know more about her. It wasn’t even that he just wanted to, but it felt like he had to, like he was being compelled to feel this way toward her.

Right as he was about to leave the party, he had heard her voice behind him

“Harry?”

He slowly turned to look at her. She was looking as shy as ever, fingers fiddling together, cheeks blushed, eyes unsure. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she wanted to try.

“I want to get to know you.” She spoke softly, her hand reaching up to tuck some of her loose hair behind her ear.

He swore his heart melted. The second the words fell from her lips, he was willing to do whatever it took to get to know her.

“I know you said I should stay away from you, but I don’t want to.”


“Harry,” Zayn mumbles, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, “do you want to talk about it?”

Harry didn’t realize he was near tears until Zayn snapped him out of his trance. He didn’t look at them as he returns to placing the logs in piles, contemplating whether or not to disregard his statement or not. Of course he wants to talk about how much mental pain he’s in from not being with Y/n anymore, but he just can’t talk about it. They know that, too, because if he were ready, he would have already.

“Can you stop asking about her, please?” He groans, tossing the last piece of wood onto the top of the pile, “I know you guys know, so please, don’t make me say it.”

He doesn’t bother to look at them, instead, wiping off some of the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel before making his way inside the house to change out of his sweaty clothes. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he’s completely and utterly broken, if he has to be questioned about her again he swears he’ll actually become ill.

Half-heartedly making his way to the bedroom, Harry opens up the duffle bag that sits on top of the bed, that he has yet to unpack, searching through the folded clothes to find his plain gray t-shirt he plans on wearing for later that night. Slipping off his flannel and sliding off the now dirty white tank top underneath, he puts on the t-shirt, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry bin.

Once changed, Harry begins to unpack the remaining clothes out of his bag. His hands are shaking as he does so, breathing heavy when he sets his clothes down on the bed. His stomach twists with sick at the idea of sleeping in this goddamn room.

This was the first place they made love. It was within the first month of being with each other, filled with beautiful romance and bliss. It was the best night of his life. It was the first time he had touched someone so delicately before. The first time his violent hands spread love throughout her body. He said words he never thought he’d say again. Words that he actually fucking meant, words to express how his once cold heart felt warm for what felt like the first time in his life. 


It was her first visit to the lake house. She had just finished cleaning up the remaining dishes, insisting that even though she was the guest, she had to contribute to the clean up after having a barbecue. Harry was sitting by the kitchen table, just watching her, observing her as she hummed an unknown tune, her hair messily tied up on her head. He could hear the boys playing poker in the living room, which he would have played if Harry hadn’t already planned on taking Y/n out near the lake after she had finished cleaning up.

“Alright, Harry, all done.” she smiled, “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”

She made her way toward his sitting frame, taking a seat right on top of his lap. Combing her fingers through his hair, she planted a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose, making Harry’s face blush the color of roses. He reached his arms around her waist, nuzzling her body against his.

“Hm,” he hummed, kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder, “was gonna show you the lake, but almost considering just cuddling you all night long.”

Y/n smiled as Harry leaned in to press a hard kiss against her soft lips. She breathed out heavily, fingertips moving to caress his cheeks, his unshaved stubble scraping against their pads.

“Gross!” they heard Niall call from the living room, “I call the room farthest from yours!”

They both laughed, Harry rolling his eyes at the comment.

“As fantastic that sounds” Y/n smirked, raking her fingers on his back under his shirt, “this is my first time here, and it’s your birthday weekend. I want to explore it with you.”

She leaned down to quickly peck his chapped lips, which soon turned into a wild smirk. His green eyes looked into her brown ones, his fingers dancing along the nape of her neck.

“I can do that for you.”

Once they were by the lake, they sat in silence together. She was cuddled into him, sitting in between his legs, her head rolled back onto his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They admired the nature they were surrounded by, overwhelmed by the feeling of each other’s company under the moon. It felt like a dream, every bit of it did. It was such a surreal moment for them. They didn’t need to speak about anything for a while, being this close to each other, feeling each other’s bodies against one another was enough for them. They felt closer than ever.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. So much so that Y/n ended up on top of him. Her legs were straddling his waist, hands roaming under his shirt, nails scratching at his ribs. Harry had his hands all in her hair, as if trying to pull her closer to him, as if it were even possible.  Her lips traveled down to his neck, kissing every bit of the exposed skin. She just couldn’t get enough. They both couldn’t.

“Y/n.” Harry whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” She muttered against his skin.

“So in love with you.“

It was the first time it was said. They both knew they loved each other once they met. Hell, it was obvious. It didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyways. She said it like she meant it, too, like her heart was blooming as she spoke. God, he even felt her tears against his neck. She was so overwhelmed by their love, the words just slipped out in the moment, but oh how she meant them.

In that moment, he was a weak man. He completely surrendered himself to her love. He was willing for it to have all control over him. He made a promise to himself, to devote his life proving his love for her, proving that he will be the man she deserves in her life, not the man he had other people see.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, fingers gliding down her waist, “I’m so in love with you. I always will be.”

That night, once he had taken her to their room, they made love over and over and over again. It was their first time, opening up to each other in a completely different way than they usually did. His lips captured hers perfectly, his hands fit in hers as if they were, quite literally, made for each other. His name became a mantra, her body became a temple. It was an entirely new level of trust. It was a night that they could have re-lived every day for the rest of their lives, easily, with not a complaint in the world.



Fuck” Harry spits, reaching the back of his hand up to eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears threatening to spill.

He can’t sleep in here, there’s no way he could, not without Y/n. Not without her in his arms, not without making love to her beforehand. His bed at home made him sick enough, but here? He just can’t fathom it.

He begins to shove the clothes he’s started to unpack back into his suitcase. He can’t stay in here another minute. He’ll lose his goddamn mind.

While zipping up his bag, he hears the front door open. Niall’s laugh fills the silence in the house upon his entrance, which gives Harry an idea on how to fix his sleeping situation without raiding the couch.

“Niall!” Harry yells, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Niall makes his way up the steps toward his voice.

“Yeah?!”

“We’re switching rooms!”

“Oh hell no!”

Niall goes into the room Harry’s in, his face strict and serious.

“You and Y/n have fucked on that bed way too many times. I don’t even think you washed the sheets last time you guys did it on there, either. Pretty sure this room has a permanent stench of sex because of you two.”

Harry’s jaw clenches. Normally, he’d have a rational conversation until he got his way, but he isn’t taking this situation lightly. So, instead, he grabs Niall’s wrist harshly, eyes narrowing down at him as he takes a threatening step closer to him.

Niall’s eyes widen as he looks up at him. Not even because a small part of him felt intimidated, but because this is the first time Harry has shown aggression toward anybody within the past couple of months. There is a chance the part he’s been hiding is becoming unleashed, but Niall knows it was easily set off by Harry’s many failed attempts to get Y/n out of his head.

“I don’t think you understand, Niall” Harry seethes, “I may have not laid my hands on anyone in months, but missing Y/n doesn’t only make me sad, it makes me dangerous. I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to be as far away from this room as possible. Now I will not tell you again, we are switching rooms.”

Niall rips his hand out of Harry’s grip, shaking it around a bit from the amount of pressure Harry was gripping it with.

“Alright, Jesus,” he groans, “but you better wash those fucking sheets. I refuse to sleep in a bed full of sex.“

Harry lets out a breath he was holding in, somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to be spending three nights in his own personal hell. 

Adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, Harry slowly nods as he continues to look at Niall. He feels bad for treating him in the way he just did, but the idea of becoming more hurt than he already was is something he wouldn’t be able to live with. 

“Yeah, yeah I will.” He mutters. “I’m sorry, by the way, for that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in this room for another second without losing my mind. I really can’t.”

Niall sighs, slowly reaching up to wrap his arms security around Harry. Being like his brother, he really has felt so bad for what he’s been going through. He can’t imagine the heartbreak, or how he’s even surviving the breakup as well as he has. 

Harry reaches his arms around Niall’s body, hugging him back.

“It’s okay, bud. I get it, you don’t have to apologize. I’ll even wash the sheets for you.”

Harry lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head briefly before detaching himself from Niall and making his way into his room.

Once settled, Harry makes his way down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and take some time to himself. If this weekend is going to haunt the living shit out of him, he might as well try to make himself relax the slightest bit.

With a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand, he opens the sliding door that leads to the porch. Leaning his body against the doorway, Harry admires the sun setting on the lake, watching as the wind moves the leaves in small dance.

For the first time since the breakup, he actually feels at peace.

“She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Liam asks, suddenly joining Harry on the porch as he sips on a bottle of beer, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry rolls his eyes, the accusation of her leaving him must have been the topic of all their conversations. Of course that’s what they thought, it must have been so convenient for them to think Y/n could live a great life without him while he would be a danger to the streets. That’s how much he needed her, but they never seemed to notice how much she needed him, not how Harry noticed.

“Why is everyone so convinced that if we were to ever break up, she’d be the one that called it off?” Harry snarls.

“I was the one who ended it.” He continues, “It wasn’t working out.”

He takes a swig from his beer, eyes still trained on the view of the lake. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation, doesn’t want to relive the night that tore his life apart. Most of all, he doesn’t want to talk about it here, at this stupid fucking lake house, and have to dwell on the pain he wishes he could erase. He doesn’t want to be reminded that he was the one who did this to them.

“C’mon,” Liam sighs, “she was the only thing you had. She was the only one to get this Harry back. You were just afraid she’d leave you first.”

Harry decides not to answer, not knowing how to respond. Of course that’s why he ended it, that’s how he operates. He pushes those away just so that nobody pushes him away. He could deal with anybody else doing it, but if Y/n had left him first, there was no way he’d ever make it through that. Not a fiber in his body doubts that for even a second.

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Liam breaks the silence.

Harry looks down at his beer, circling it in his hands. Why does he keep asking him questions he clearly doesn’t want to answer?

“She said she never wanted to see me again.” Harry mumbles, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left.”

Jesus, Harry.” Liam whispers. “Are you okay?”

Something about that question makes something inside of Harry twist. Is he okay? How can he be okay? He hasn’t seen the love of his life, hasn’t talked to her, hasn’t even heard the sound of her breathing in months. Every part of his body hurts every time he thinks about her because the feeling of being away from her is the most painful feeling in the world.

His life was consumed by her love. His entire world changed when he met her. Nobody else could he lay his hands so sweetly on, could his voice speak so softly to, could his heart swell so greatly for. She changed him, even though he was too scared to admit it to her, she changed him. She gave him hope- gave him a reason to hold onto himself.

Since she’s left, in times when he’s at his all-time low, all he can think about is how his arms felt holding her, how his lips felt kissing her, how fucking relieving and beautiful it was to talk to her, and how he let all of that go.

How can he be okay?

Tears cloud his vision, his hands begin to shake. Oh, God. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over the emotions, he didn’t deserve them. He did this, he caused all this, this was his decision. Yet here he is, again, fighting back the tears that have been so desperate to be released.

“I mean” Harry begins, his voice shaking as he speaks, “I mean, I fucked up everything. I had everything I ever needed and I was the one who let it go. I was starting to think that her leaving me would be worse but now-”

He’s choking back sobs, face wet with unwelcomed tears, “now I can’t stop thinking about how much she hates me right now. She has a home without me, she lives her life without me, she is falling asleep at night without me. And the worst part is that she didn’t want it that way. That was all me, everything is because of me!”

Liam rushes to wrap his arms around him, pulling Harry’s head down onto his shoulder so that he has a place to cry. Harry’s holding him like it’s his ever last bit of hope, almost as if grasping for reassurance for his relationship with Y/n.

“Harry.” he whispers.

“Trust me, Liam, I didn’t want this, either” he continues, words scrambling out of his mouth, “but what else was I supposed to do? And now I’m at this stupid fucking lake house where we talked about getting married and she’s not here with me and I can’t do this anymore!”

He’s completely helpless now. His body is weak, shaking against Liam’s tense frame. He’s in so much pain, so much heartbreak that he’s almost screaming, begging God for some mercy because he can’t take this anymore. The constant thought of her, the constant reminder that he’s never going to see her again rips his heart out every second of every day.

“I just really don’t want to know what it’s like to live another day without her” his voice quivers, “I never do.”

Harry’s wet eyes meet Liam’s sympathetic ones. Liam opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t do this anymore. 

He pats Liam’s shoulder- thanking him for being by his side- before turning around to walk away. He slides the glass door open, walking inside the kitchen to replace his now empty bottle of beer with a new one.

“Wait,” Liam mumbles, “wait, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry stops in his place, slowly turning his body around to look at him. He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, seeming confused.

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

20

It’s his first birthday with Dex, but it’s also his first Valentine’s Day with Dex, and he’s not really sure what the protocol is when you’ve been in love with someone for a year but only actually dating them for a month or two.

He stares at the little gift he’d made up – a new coffee mug, some Kit-Kats, a jumbo bag of Skittles, and a bouquet of flowers. Is it too much? Is it not enough? Is it cheesy? Is it weird?

In the end, he doesn’t have time to overthink it too much, because Dex is knocking on the door and Nursey has to go let him in. Dex has two bags in his hand, one red and one blue.

“Red is for Valentine’s Day, blue is for your birthday,” he explains.

Nursey opens the Valentine’s Day gift first – a new coffee mug, some Twix bars, a jumbo bag of M&Ms, and a bouquet of flowers. Nursey’s kissing Dex before he can even get to the blue bag.

Keep reading

Don't be so stupid

Could you do a rough kinky Jerome smut?

——

I straighten the covers and place the money in my safe box under the bed. Another night of work. I laugh at my own statement. Ha! Work! All you do is take rejected men’s money for a wild time.

I haven’t been doing this long. Only a couple months, but I’ve made more money than you can believe!

I know how people look at me. I see the stares of shame. How some women cross the street trying to get as far away from me as possible like they might catch something.

They wouldn’t. I don’t let any man go there. Only one man has ever taken me there. Only one man I will ever let go beyond the methods I use on other men. No one has touched me since the day he was murdered.

As I scrub the filth away from my body I think back to how Jerome took me. He had different ways of making me feel head over heels. Some nights he would take me hard and rough where the bed would get close to breaking, than other nights when he was feeling love sick he would worship me. He would thrust passionately kissing my body and telling me how beautiful I am.

I step out of the shower leaving the painful memories behind. I wrap a towel around my body and go down to the kitchen to make a drink. I get out the ingredients for a rock hard drink but then a knock on the door interrupts me.

I sigh and open it to see a man with cash in hand. He raises his brow and pushes past me. Is this really my life? He throws the money at me and sits on the sofa.

I walk over to him and set the cash on the hood in his trousers. “It’s late.” I say and make my way to the door to open it for him. He laughs and throws the cash at me with force. “Suck it whore.” This man was clearly drunk and out of his mind to think he can talk to me like that.

Though financial worries enter my brain. I need the money. I need it to get away from here. I sigh and rest on my knees giving the man what he paid for.

Once done I stand up quickly and feel like I should rinse my mouth out with bleach. Just then another knock rings out. A loud one. One of demand.

I move to open the door. “I can see why you’re so popular dollface.” I grasp the handle hard and turn to him with a displeased expression. “Don’t-” “CALL HER THAT!” A screaming voice beats me to it. I know that voice.

I open the door thinking I’m crazy. I’m hearing voices again. I swing open the door to see him. “J-Jer-” he places his finger against my lips and strides into the room seeing the man. He turns to me with fire in his eyes. “Did he touch you?” I shake my head gripping my towel closer to my body scared.

Jerome comes closer and I take in his appearance. Staples? I have to say it’s not his worst look.

The man on the couch scoffs. “No. She never lets anyone get in there. To stubborn. I’ve got to say she makes up for it man. Come here and sit. She does magic.” Jerome laughs. “Oh I know. She’ll ride me like a good girl any day.” The man once again scoffs. “Ha sure! She’s not gonna let some random person in there!” The man laughs.

Jerome turns to him with a smirk. “Oh I’m not a stranger. I was her first isn’t that right darling?” He asks lifting my chin up. “Well go on baby girl. Tell him how I’m the only one who’s ever touched your pussy.” Jerome moves me in front of the man and grips my hips. “He’s the only man to ever touch my pussy.” I say feeling Jerome move his hand beyond the towel and run his fingers over the skin of my hip. I shiver under his touch missing him exceedingly.

The man on the couch slaps his knee with a jealous expression. “Oh man! Lucky you! You’re okay with her doing this though? That’s what I call a working relationship!” Jerome’s hand goes further and slips between my wet folds. He circles my clit with pressure making my body lean into his. Jerome laughs and removes his hand. Instead he lifts up the back of the towel and grips my ass. “Actually no. You see I’ve been gone for a while. This is news to me. I find this…humiliating, and revolting.” Jerome then fiddled with his own trousers and releases himself. I feel him from behind as he starts to rub his head across my wet folds. The man on the couch just stares as if he’s in heaven.

Jerome laughs. “My my my doll. You really haven’t let anyone touch you. So tight I can even thrust into you, but as for you…enjoying the snow?” Jerome thrusts hard entering me. Filling me up like he use to. I arch back into him wanting more. Needing more. The man on the couch looks at me and nods his head.

Jerome laughs and pulls out a gun. He places the barrel to my head as he continues to thrust into me pulling my hair back. “Should I shoot you? Hm? Do you deserve to live knowing the things you’ve done? You dirty whore. Who do you belong to?” “You. You Jerome!” I moan out enjoying the blissful pleasure he’s bestowing upon me. “That’s right doll! I want you to do so for me okay?” Jerome whispers in my ear. “Shoot him.” Jerome says placing the gun in my hand.

I aim the barrel at him and pull the trigger with a rush enveloping me. The mans blood splatters on the wall and he falls completely limp. Jerome growls and rips the towel away turning me around. “You’re in so much trouble.” He says and pushes me against the wall hiking me up and thrusting into me hard and fast. I place my arms around him moaning his name over and over again. “Say it again doll. Scream it.” He says and moves his hand to rub my clit. I toss my head back against the wall in pure pleasure. “Jerome!” I moan out.

He moves to sit on the couch next to the dead man still spilling blood. “What do you say princess? You wanna ride me?” I nod eagerly and place myself above him cock and sliding down on him. Jerome grips my hips as I bouch on his cock making us both feel pleasures we haven’t had for a year.

Jerome rubs his fingers against the blood on the man’s wound and covers his hand in the thick red liquid. He proceeds to trail his hand down my body making a line from my breast, to my stomach, and right above my crotch. “Ah you’re such a good girl. You’re going to cum aren’t you? Go on doll. Cum for me.” I do as he says and release on him and seconds he fills me up with his own cum.

Jerome moves my hair out of the way and kisses me. “You’re mine. Don’t be so stupid to think otherwise. No other man looks at you. Ever! Understood?” He caresses my cheek with a smile. “Yes J.” He laughs and picks me up. “Then why don’t we make up for lost time? Sound good?” I smile and kiss his nose. “Sounds perfect.”

Originally posted by bonelotus

Start your novel (easy process)

So, in this post I’ll help you through coming up with a story idea, outlining and writing the first chapter. Not only that, we’ll also take an easy approach to every step. If you are stuck for months (or years), today is the day you start! 

Originally posted by letsdiscussaboutsherlock

Let’s divide this process into three steps: Story idea (first step), outline (second step) and first chapter (third step). This is, pretty much, all we need right now. 

Story ideas

With your favorite genre and subgenre in mind, create storylines for the following types of plots. You can either choose one plot at random, or try out many of them until you find a good one. This is just a brainstorm, so be open to craziness. Here are 50 simple plots.

1. Hunting monsters

2. Becoming a monster

3. Going on a journey

4. Poor becomes rich

5. Rich becomes poor

6. Good person becomes bad

7. Bad person becomes good

8. Revenge

9. Rescuing something/someone

10. Story of reincarnation

11. Hunted by group/government

12. Attacking a group/government

13. Free persons becomes prisoner

14. Prisoner becomes free

15. Escaping from enslavement/imprisonment

16. Learning a craft

17. Winning a competition 

18. Overcoming a disease

19. Training

20. Group surviving together

21. Becoming famous

22. Investigation of a mystery

23. Escaping from police/justice

24. Survival games

25. Trials

26. Unrequited love

27. Starcrossed lovers

28. Partners in crime

29. Redemption

30. Becoming a family

31. Growing up

32. Generations of a family

33. Surviving wild/apocalypse/disaster

34. Love turns hate

35. Hate turns love

36. Rivals turning friends

37. Friends turning rivals

38. Love triangle

39. Developing superpower/mutation

40. Groups/rivals at war

41. Finding/going home

42. Becoming human

43. Completing a mission

44. Going undercover 

45. Happiness to tragedy

46. Tragedy to happiness

47. Outcasted

48. Creating an ideology/religion 

49. Opening a business

50. Understanding life

After testing the plots above, choose your favorite storyline.

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

Outline

You’ve managed to pick a plot and a storyline. You already have the hardest part sorted out. Choosing is the hardest part. Now we are developing your story idea. The tip #1 of outlining is…. keep it simple. Don’t try to fit one hundred scenes, and arcs, and fillers to make your story complex. Instead, answer the following topics:  

- How should my story begin?

- How should my story end?

- Define five basic scenes that must happen for my story to go from beginning to ending.

You can either freewrite the answers, or speak to yourself in front of a mirror, or meditate about it. Find your best approach. Once you have the main structure done, you can fill the blanks as you write.

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

First chapter:

Wow!!! Congratulations. You are awesome. You’ve made through the hardest part. Really. I promise. Because writing is fun. So, here comes the fun part. Starting the first chapter is always a challenge, especially for the perfectionists. So, instead of going straight to the beginning you defined in the previous step, try something different: Start your book before the beginning. One or a few scenes before.

By the time you reach the official first scene, you are already in the flow, you’ll have a certain intimacy with characters, you’ll know them better, not only characters, but also the fictional world and the plot. So, start before the beginning. When editing time comes, you can either delete or keep it.

Originally posted by dailyhappylife

So, are you ready to start??

My older sister went to a beauty school that was next door to a modelling school, and she asked me to join her there. One day an agent approached me. He’s the one who discovered Natalia Vodianova and all the big Russian models. He wanted me to go to Paris. After a couple of months I said yes; I thought it might be a great opportunity to help my family.

Hey psssht hey hey guess in what fan-fucking-tastic fandom I got myself in for 3 months in already pls dont kill meh

uhm… … …the last time I was in RPF hell was eons ago (KPop lol) and I have no idea how I got from one place to another this time around…

BUT I digress! There’s this one YuzuVier fanfiction that I’ve been reading since the first day it was published on Ao3 and I adore it so much aaaaHHH WHY IS DRAWING RL PPL SO MUCH AGONY it’s always the same tredding the thin line of ‘does this look okay’ and ‘omg cringe’
Hidden || Jack Maynard

Originally posted by iheartmyyoutubers

Requests are currently [ OPEN ]

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: Jack isn’t in a rush to introduce the boys to his girlfriend, and so they come up with a ‘masterplan’ that really just involved Joe doing all the work. 

Dedicated too: The anon who requested this, I hope you like it love xo




It was common knowledge that Jack was seeing someone. He didn’t exactly keep it a secret from the boys, often throwing on his coat midway through the day or night and muttering something about going to (Y/N)’s and simply disappearing for a good few hours before any of them would hear from him again.

Conor ended up meeting the mystery girl after just a few weeks, having walked into Jack’s apartment one day to find her stood in the kitchen in just her underwear. As far as first impressions went, he was sure he’d never forget that one.

Though even after a good few months, the rest of the buttercreams had absolutely no clue who this girl was. Her Instagram was private, as was her Twitter - and no matter how much they tried to bribe Conor into leaking information to them: the oldest Maynard was stubborn when it came to his brother’s private life.

They had a vague idea of the type of person she was, or atleast what they’d managed to piece together from the little trinkets and blurry polaroids of hers that they’d found littered around Jack’s apartment. She obviously enjoyed photography, and art, seeing as they’d found more than a few paintbrushes on the side of Jack’s sink on multiple occasions.

But when three months passed, they started to wonder whether they’d ever actually get to meet the mystery girl. It obviously wasn’t one of Jack’s main priorities, and they could tell that he wasn’t exactly pressing the issue. They were all growing more and more impatient by the second. 

The day Conor returned home with a beautiful, yet huge, henna all the way down his arm and a wide smile on his face - was the day that their resolves cracked. This girl was slowly becoming a huge part of both of the Maynards’ lives, and they wanted in on it.

So, they gathered around in Caspar’s flat one day, when Conor and Jack were both too busy to hang out; and they came up with a masterplan. First, Joe would refuse to leave Jack’s apartment and insist on sleeping there because it was too late to Uber home. If she was to turn up, he was to report back to the rest of the boys immediately.

Plan B was to have Mikey beg Jack to meet her, which wouldn’t be too suspicious seeing as they’d been friends since secondary school. But seeing as they knew how shit Mikey was at acting, they all had their toes crossed that Plan B wouldn’t have to be put into action.

As always, Joe and the rest of the boys had spent their Thursday sat in Jack’s living room watching the footy and filming a few videos whenever they could pluck up the courage to pause the game. Eventually it reached nine pm and everyone started to leave, each winking slyly at Joe as they did so.

At half past ten, Joe was the only remaining guest, and by the way he was snuggled down under the duvet on the fold out sofa, Jack could tell that he wasn’t prepared to leave anytime soon. And so, he ordered dinner for three, instead of just him and (Y/N), and acted as if nothing was going on as he slumped back onto the loveseat to watch whatever Joe had chosen to put on.

“So, mate, tell me more about this girlfriend of yours.” Joe says, his eyes moving down the room so that they were looking at Jack, who had a knowing smirk on his face but hid it well. “Is she hot?”

“Yup.” His reply was purposefully short, a bid to annoy the self-proclaimed guest - and it seemed to work perfectly, as within seconds Joe’s face was scrunched up in annoyance and he was holding himself back from glaring at the younger Maynard brother.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, until there was a knock on the door and Joe turned to look at the younger boy with a confused frown. “How the hell did the food guy get into the building?”

Jack snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re such an idiot.” Throwing his head back, he clears his throat and lifts his arm. “It’s open babe!”

Joe’s eyes widen in shock and his head turns sharply toward Jack, who sits there with a smug smirk on his face as his girlfriend walked into his apartment with a tired sigh and shrugged off her jacket and bag; not yet realising that there was anyone but her boyfriend there. “The food guy needs you to buzz him in, I said I’d take the food but I didn’t have the order num-” she freezes when she walks into the living room and her eyes fall upon Joe, but a smile quickly grows on her face and she waves a little. “So that’s why it looked like you’d ordered so much.”

Jack nods, jumping up from the couch and kissing her on the cheek before jogging over to the intercom and buzzing the delivery guy in. Returning to his girlfriends side, Jack wraps his arm around her waist and looks down into her eyes with a smile. “Hi gorgeous.”

“Hi.” She breathes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a quick kiss before lightly pushing him away and gesturing toward Joe politely. “You’re Joe, right?” The youngest Sugg nods and sits up a little. “Well, I’m (Y/N).”

He smiles back, but can’t help feel slightly nervous around the girl he’d been dying to meet for a good month. “Pretty name.”

Jack smirks and glances down at the girl under his arm, who looked up to meet his gaze strategically. “A pretty name for a pretty face.”

When there’s a knock on the door, she steps out of his arms and smiles at them both a little. “I’m gonna go get the food, why don’t you guys get some plates and shit?”

Joe nods silently and watches as she leaves the room, before turning to stare up at Jack with wide eyes, only to be met with a smug smirk and a wink. “Oh trust me, by the time tonight’s over, you’ll be as smitten as Conor is.”

Yours

Happy Valentine’s Day, loves! Here’s a new story for you because I love you all immensely! It’s fluffy and it’s daddy!harry and it’s all for you guys. <3 <3

————————————————————————————————

He had gotten up and left the house early that morning. It had been quite a long time since Harry had been able to go to the gym and get a decent workout in, because he was constantly busy between working on his album, finishing the movie, being a husband and taking care of your 10-month-old daughter. Going the gym had kind of been put on the back burner in favor of spending as much time with the two of you as he possibly could.

Not that he minded; before he had become a father, he never would have been able to imagine just how much he loved having a little girl. He had always liked kids, of course, and had wanted one of his own since before you had even met him, but the gross amount of love he had for his baby girl was almost unfathomable. He would be perfectly content never leaving the house again, if he thought he could get away with it.

Today was Valentine’s Day. The moment your daughter’s little voice had come over the baby monitor that morning, babbling away and finally calling out with a tiny little, “Dada?”, Harry had been up and into the nursery to get her. Hearing her say his name was still a novelty for him; it had only been a few weeks since she had learned to say it and Harry’s heart still jumped every time she called for him. She wasn’t walking yet – not without assistance from one of you - but one step at a time…literally.

His little girl was big-eyed and smiley by the time Harry got to her room. She was now able to pull herself into a standing position using the bars of her crib and she was bouncing up and down on her heels when she saw Harry enter.

“Good morning, lovebug,” he said, voice raspy from just waking up.

“Dada!” she replied, pointing at him. As soon as she lifted one hand from the crib, she lost her balance and toppled back down into a seated position on her mattress.

“Oops, careful there,” Harry laughed, reaching in to lift her up into his arms, “Can daddy have a kiss?”

She clasped her hands around his neck and gave him a very dramatic, very wet kiss on the cheek. Harry chuckled and returned the kiss, wiping the baby slobber from his skin.

Keep reading

So I was working at thrift shop over the summer. It was alright, I more or less worked there cause it was close to home and I knew the manager. One day I came into work and had pride and trans supportive buttons on my bag. (Im trans by the way) and one of the customers starting harresing me about them. One day he was going off on how gay people are taking over everything or some shit and called me a tranny and a faggot. I told my manager and he straight up said. “There is nothing I can do about someone else’s opinion on how you choose to live your life”. I quit that very moment and now people that know me in that neighborhood don’t use that store anymore. It closed down a month ago and relocated.

favorite things about juno steel

  • likes to refer to his adorable nb self as a ‘lady’
  • extremely knowledgeable about cardstock
  • childhood friend to terrifying giant martian sewer rabbits??? evidently prefers sewer rabbits to people
  • congratulates self on one-liners
  • congratulates self on looking good in suit
  • lapses into starstruck poetry every time he thinks about his Totally Not-Boyfriend, especially when annoyed at him
  • will fight literally anyone at any time despite being Small and having the worst lungs in the entire world
  • if miasma interrupting it is anything to go by, his Noir Detective Monologues™ are his actual thought process. what a  n e r d
  • bisexual!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • “collector of bad art”
  • mopes for months about nureyev, makes dramatic declarations about Never Loving Again and nureyev Not Being Trustworthy, two days and one train robbery later is hopelessly in love

Alright y'all, I’m really excited. Today is my one month anniversary of starting T25. I’m so flipping pleased by this! Seriously! :) I’m so happy.

So, along with it being my 1 one month anniversary of starting my program, I’m also starting to use the portion fix eating program. Because of that, my weekly updates on Fridays are going to be a little different. I’m not going to post my before-and-after (during?) pictures on Fridays. I may post an awesome meal I made, or even an outfit of the day type thing, but I’m going to make you WAIT to see what I look like after finishing T25 as opposed to starting it.

Haha, this feels deliciously cruel. 😈 I’m going to work my butt off (literally). I’m doing everything I can to lose the 60-100 pounds I want to lose in the next year.

If you wanna see more updates, get recipes, and even look out for deals in Beachbody programs and Challenge group openings follow this page

Laters✌🏻😘

Writing Prompts #2
  • Character has the ability to hear a person’s thoughts as long as they touch them
  • Another similar idea: a character has the ability to feel a person’s emotions as long as they touch them.  Maybe the two characters meet
  • Road trip with a complete stranger
  • Character can see shadowed figures that no one else can, but only out of the corner of their eye.  One day they are approached by a fully-visible figure.  As the years go by, the figures become less shadowed and more colourful and defined
  • “It had been six months since they left the war bunker.”
  • “It was at the back of the bookstore …”
  • Love at last sight
  • “The fountain of …” (instead of ‘youth’)
  • “I thought you said you weren’t dead!”  “I wasn’t lying … exactly …”
  • And finally: capture lightning in a jar
Best Game Ever

Originally posted by mayfifolle


Request from an awesome anon: “I loved your most recent mark smut! can I request a Mark smut with dom!mark with dry humping but then he can’t take it anymore and yeah”

Hope you enjoy love, I made it a little fluffy too :)

Warnings: Adult Content


“Alright you guys, I’m going to bed. Goodnight” Youngjae said, getting up from the couch.

You and Mark smiled at him.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” you said as he made his way to his room.

One by one the guys dropped like flies during your movie night. They had practice earlier that day and were so exhausted. Youngjae was the last of them.

Now it was just you and Mark, alone.

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Sword Fighting For Fic Writers: Chapter 1

It’s going to take me another day or two to finish the full guide, so I’m going to start posting these in chapters. I will continue to post one chapter a day, and also post the full guide as one monster post when it’s done. I may refer to future chapters in these, those will be turned into links as chapters become available.

You can follow the tag #Swords for Fics if you want to keep up without following me :) There will be around 12 chapters or more.

My background: Hey there! I’ve been training in the Italian method of sword fighting for about 7 or 8 months now. So I’d say I’m still quite the novice but I’ve learned a lot and I’d like to share some of that with you all! I’ve trained with two handed swords, one handed swords, sword and buckler, dual swords, dagger, spears, quaterstaff, and poleaxe. (Not rapiers though, sorry.) I also have a “writing” background in animation and illustration.

What’s this for?: As I discovered when trying to storyboard a fight a year ago, action scenes are a pain to write when you don’t know your options. There are a ton of great fics out there with great swashbuckling adventure, and you all do an amazing job at bringing out the most important part of any fight: how the characters feel about it. And while that’s often all you need for good story telling, this is for writers who want to spend more time playing in that action.

Terminology?: There’s a lot of terminology in sword fighting that the general audience won’t understand, or may not even share the same names depending on the school of sword fighting. I’ll be using some terminology as I learned it, but will mostly try to describe things in layman’s terms.

THIS WILL COVER MAINLY ONE AND TWO HANDED SWORDS THAT CAN BE USED FOR SLASHING. 
Though a rapier could be considered a one handed sword, it is used differently and I don’t have sufficient knowledge to go in depth for them. 

So let’s get started!

Available Chapters:
1: Dumb Ways to Die  2.May Your Blade Be True! 3.On Your Guard!
4. Making the Cut 5.Stick ‘em With the Pointy End 6.It’s Like a Dance
7.The Measure of a Man 8.A Crossing of Blades 9.Like Chess, but with Knives
An Interlude About Story Telling
10.You Can Barely Lift Your Sword 11.Buckle Some Swash 12.Dual Wielding
13.Everything is a Weapon 14.Got Your Sword!

Dumb Ways to Die
Beginner Mistakes

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i’m honestly so sick of people trying to defend makeup. i wear loads of it every day and i hate it. it’s taken over parts of my life.

since the seventh grade, i have only gone to school without makeup ONCE. i’m about to graduate high school.

in the span of almost 5 years, i have never gone to school without makeup, except for one day when my therapist made me. 5 YEARS. i refuse to go without it. the one day i did it (a month ago) i cried. i kept my head down the whole day. i felt like i was showing the world i was lying to them.

i won’t go to family events without makeup. i won’t pick up food without makeup on. most of the time, i won’t even go to fucking walgreens without makeup on.

i have been taught by society that my natural face is not good enough. at first makeup was fun and cute and girly and now it’s a prison. it’s a mask i wear that makes me hate myself.

i don’t want people at school to see the real, ugly me. i don’t want my relatives to see that their pretty niece or granddaughter or cousin is actually ugly. i don’t want people to look at me and see my ugly. i feel like i’m lying to everyone.

i feel like such an inadequate girl and the least i could do is doll up my face. people tell me that i look fine as i do normally and i do think that i probably don’t look bad but… i will still feel like i’m ugly.

it’s great that liberal feminism helped me push down some of that self loathing!! at least i was smashing the patriarchy with my eyeliner! i’m sure guys were soooo intimidated by my makeup and they totally wanted to respect me more! it’s not like other old men were profiting off the self loathing i felt for myself!

i’m still trying every day to break free from these feelings but it’s so hard. so if you’re trying to shame me for speaking out against the beauty industry, i have two words for you - FUCK YOU.