When I started this blog I promised myself I would just share what happens good or bad and hoped that someone would perhaps benefit from me sharing my daily life with my “issues”.
I was heading home after going out to buy something for dinner when I got stuck in queue of traffic caused by an accident with a cyclist. Long story short, I almost made it back home, but ended up not being able to hold it and wet my pants in the car, probably only a mile or two from home.
My initial reaction was anger at being held up and made to wet my pants. But then when the anger subsided I felt guilty as there was someone potentially hurt very badly, being taken to hospital and all I could think about was myself.
Anyway, I hope the person is ok and it’s just rounded off a bit of a tough week. I am feeling tired and feel like I need a break.
okay but guys imagine yousef, who got all flustered when sana caught him dancing on saturday, the last time he saw her, who genuinely like and respect this wonderful girl, who has for a while now, sitting behind his computer, taking a deep breath, and finally deciding to send her a friend request
And I hate saying it so bluntly. It makes me sound like some hack psychic who fakes the ability as a means of exploitation and a paycheck. I’ve never made money from my ability. I’ve never taken advantage of it. And, until now, I’ve never spoken of it to anybody.
But I really do see them, and I’m starting to view it as more of a curse. I have a reason for typing this out and I assure you, there isn’t a happy ending.
if y’all have never pictured mutual pining klance breaking into song and singing to themselves ‘can’t fight this feeling anymore’ once they finally start to accept their crushes on each other then wyd?
Hi guys! So a lot of our classes are starting today, even with the eclipse so I thought I’d share some tips my teacher sent out to help everyone get a better grade in the sciences classes, which may or may not be slightly trickier than others. It’s important to realize that no one can get through all of these, so pick what is most important to you.
1) Put in the time. Using the “three-to-one” rule, three hours of studying outside of class time per one credit hour. If your class is 3 credits, you should be studying independently an additional 9 hours. For 4 credits, 12 hours. Teachers expect you to treat studying as your job (even if you do have an actual job) meaning you should virtually be studying anytime outside of meals, class, sleep, work, etc.
> To clarify, this is per week. Not at all per day. You will never be able to shove an appropriate amount of studying per class into one day. Do not try, it is not healthy.
2) NO cramming. It is MUCH more productive to study a little each day rather than 9 hours the day before a test. You will remember virtually nothing if you do and will not be as happy with the grade you recieve. Taking it in little bits stores it in long term memory and you will actually learn it rather than just regurgitating it onto a test.
3) Time management is crucial. Especially if you are someone who works or has kids or other priorities that also need attention. Make a schedule and. Stick. To. It.
4) Be prepared and organized. Do not be the person who lost their pencil and doesn’t have an extra, forgot a notebook or textbook, keys, etc. Give yourself enough time so you’re not rushing and make sure you have what you need! Your college professors are not here to attend to your personal needs when some of them have 800+ students a semester.
5) Use a calender. Write down your assignments, projects, class times, anything you need to remember. Use it religiously because it will be so much easier than trying to keep it all inside your head and that way you will not forget anything.
6) Use the book AND the notes. Most professors write things in a different way than the book and reading something in multiple different ways will better help you remember the concept rather than the sentence word for word.
7) Read ahead. Doing so helps you prepare for and not be lost in lecture and it will benefit you as well as the teacher.
8) Attend all/as many classes as you can and be an active listener. Sit up straight, face forward, don’t pay attention to what others around you are doing (I sit up front whenever possible). Keep an extra piece of paper near you in case you have questions so you can either ask or go back later and look it up yourself.
9) Take detailed notes. With permission, record the lecture so you can hear it again later, abbreviate whatever you are scribbling down, and then as soon as you can after class, rewrite it in a neater, nicer way and don’t be afraid to word things differently. A review shortly after class is proven to help it convert to long term memory.
10) Keep your phone off in class. I know we all love our phones and class is boring, but it’s also crucial information. We’ve all been through that period of regret where we wished we had paid attention. Don’t let that happen anymore. Use it only for emergencies and recording lectures.
11) Even if you don’t rewrite your notes after class, review them. Make sure to pay attention to anything the teacher may have repeated or any learning objectives they would like for you to know.
12) Study early and often! This goes along with no cramming but the sooner and more repetitively you relay information to your brain, the easier it will be to remember it. If you don’t look at the information for 2 weeks and then suddenly need to remember it all, not only will you be too stressed to retain it, you’ll also be wasting valuable time. Make your own study guides and test questions.
13) Make flashcards. Flashcards are only useful when you a) shuffle them occasionally and b) take the ones you’ve memorized out of the pile but still review them every now and then to make sure you still remember. Put any back in the pile that you missed.
14) Use mnemonic devices for lists of related terms.
15) Type or rewrite your notes. I’d recommend writing them again, because physical writing by hand is another way to help remember it.
16) Consolidate your material. This means: tables, lists, figures, concept maps. Reasonable chucks.
17) Teach it to someone else. The best way to tell if you have mastered something is that you are able to explain it to someone else correctly in a way that makes sense.
18) Pick a good place for effective studying. We all love our study groups, but let’s be honest. At most the first 20 minutes is talking, then 10 minutes of studying before half the group is surfing Tumblr and the other half is complaining they’re hungry. I prefer to study by myself for this reason. Find a quiet place with minimal distractions and get prepared to work your fucking ass off.
19) Get decent rest before the exam and be sure to get there early or on time, unpredictable situations included. Exams are important and your teacher will not care if there was a traffic jam. If you miss the exam, you miss the exam.
20) Learn from your mistakes. Review your incorrect exam answers and figure out why it was wrong and why the correct answer was correct. Talk to your teacher, TA, resource lab, anyone who may help you if you’re stuck.
21) Review the midterm and start preparing for finals. Most of the midterm material should be on the final, so it’s one of your best study guides.
22) Keep your textbooks and notes. I know we’re all broke as fuck and would like to sell them back, but you never know when that information will be useful in another class down the road.
23) Do NOT discuss grades, quizzes, tests, or exams with your class mates. Of course they’ll complain that they didn’t study, that chapter 6 was this, or chapter 8 said that and it was confusing. This type of conversation will only make you nervous so steer clear of all of it.
Edit: I have made an adjustment to #2 to clarify that the 3 hours of studying/1 credit hour for that class should be per week, not per day. 💕
Requested by Anonymous,“The boys’ reaction to their s/o who likes to give them kisses/pecks when the boys aren’t paying attention to them/focusing on something else please? Thanks!”
Note; this made me soft af..how dare u.
Standing with his hands gripping the airplane tickets as he found out the airlines were at the very other end of the building, stress and a load of tiredness was beginning to overtake him as you tried to get his attention, hold his hand, anything — only for him to bolt down the airport while dragging you along. “Babe,” you called to no avail, frowning in distaste, “Seokjin!”
“What?” He snapped, stopping in his tracks and the minute you tippy toe to plant a small peck onto his plump lips, a fierce blush takes over his cheeks as he smiles and drops his head onto your shoulders.
You laugh softly as you rub his neck, “calm down.”
“Your hands are freezing.” He mumbles, holding the frozen limbs in his warm ones. He wasn’t smiling, more annoyed at having to walk with you to the faraway café instead of taking a taxi or an uber — but what he did take satisfaction in was being able to walk through the greenery that still brimmed with life despite the negative temperature. “Maybe we should head back–”
But you interrupt him as you kiss him unexpectedly, feeling his chapped lips against yours as you quickly pull away. “Nah,” you say with a small smile as he stares at you blankly, “I’m warm now.”
And a big grin slaps onto his features, eyes immediately turning into mini crescents.
He was death glaring Jungkook who was acting a little too friendly with you, throwing in snark comments here and there as the younger only laughed it off as if Hoseok was joking — but he wasn’t. Jungkook would nudge you in a flirty manner, smile at you, eye you and just–
But the soft and damp pressure on his lips makes all thoughts evaporate into thin air, you pulling away and laughing as you finally got his attention.
And the smile encasing his being is bright, pulling you into his chest as you continued to talk to the other man and tried your hardest to pull away from the man who tried to peck you once again.
He was exhausted as you two sat on the bench of the nearly empty park during the day, the sun emitting rays that illuminated onto the grass and pond — and whilst he closed his eyes to zone out your voice and drown into the melody of nature, you nudge him as he groans in displeasure.
It is quiet then, and all he could here was the singing of the birds, the shivering leaves and the ruffling of your clothes before you kiss the corner of his mouth, his eyes blasting open in astonishment. “Are you going keep ignoring me?”
A grin spreads onto his lips. “Well,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “you do know what unexpected kisses leads to..right?”
He was paying way too much attention onto his phone as you both ate out with the rest of the boys, Jimin only tuning in on a recent video game play-through as he ignored the conversation happening at hand and especially you.
To say that he was caught off guard when you kissed him in front of the guys was an understatement — scarlet immediately drowned his ears as he giggled at your cute gesture. “Jagiya,” he gasped as if you did something horrible, “you know we only kiss in the bedroom.”
You punched his shoulder in mortification as the guys begin to catcall and eventually, Yoongi spatting in disgust to “keep it in the bedroom.”
It was during the night when the windowsill was open and the breeze blew onto the sheer curtains as Taehyung wrapped you in his arms under the duvet and pulled you into his chest. His eyes were closed, and as his breathing began to soften, your small voice pierces the quiet atmosphere. “Babe?”
He hums in response, refusing to open his eyes and when he felt the bed dip the slightest as you move to get comfortable, the kiss you give him before nestling into his neck has him smiling. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says as he feels the thousands of butterflies attack his gut. Immediately, he pulls away from you just to catch your lips in a passionate kiss, letting the night drown you both into bliss.
Driving for hours in the city with no destination in mind, Jungkook only wanted to spend time with you and away from his hectic singer life and definitely, away from the boys. It was raining, the traffic was too much and as he sits their impatient as the truck was stuck in nearly the same spot for half an hour, you grab his hand and he quickly looks to you as your lips crash perfectly together in an innocent kiss.
Pulling away from him, a toothy and cheeky grin is plastered onto his features as his previous frown melted into the ground. “Again,” he begs, intertwining your fingers together as he squeezes your hand, “kiss me again.”
Pairing: Dean/Cas Length: 2.5k Tags: Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, First Kiss, Canon Divergent Read on AO3
A special thank you to @braezenkitty for being my awesome beta <3
“You just gotta get laid,” Dean said, reseating the burger beside the pile of fries on his plate, this time with a big bite missing. “Or a decent kiss, at least.”
He crumbled a napkin between greasy fingers, tossed it to the middle of the table. Shoved his shirtsleeves up one more time as he tucked his black fed tie under the table ledge and away from the plate. “It’d loosen you up, buddy. And maybe you’d quit tryna live vicariously through horny eighteen-year-olds.”
This was because of the door-to-door canvas. The couple at the park who’d been all over each other, that Castiel hadn’t been able to stop looking at—even after the old, blue-haired lady at 512 Bakersfield Court had made a comment. “Your partner likes to stare…” like she’d never in her seventy-five years of life seen someone curious about such a thing.
“If only that was the first time I heard it, too,” Dean’d smiled back from her stoop, the sharp sun cooking them both in the stuffy Tennessee heat. A marked jab to Cas’ ribs, and a walk to the nearest pub later, and Dean was bringing it up again, because, of course he was. Why talk about the case?
“I only glanced at the couple in the park,” Cas sighed. “It’s not a recurring issue. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Dean laughed, lipped his beer bottle, and took a stout drink. “Sure,” he said. “Glanced at them. Glanced at those girls holding hands last week—though, I’ll give ya that one. I gave ‘em a couple once-overs too.”
“Point is, it ain’t the first time, and you’re a damn liar.”
Cas rolled his eyes. “My being, or not being with people has nothing to do with anything—”
“Has everything to do with everything when you’re touch-starved.”
“I’m not starved. I’ve been… touched.”
Dean scoffed, swirled his beer bottle. “Sure, if you wanna count Reaper-Fools-Day.”
“I’ve kissed more people than April,” Cas bristled back. “How about we talk about what you know of touch starved instead?”
Dean snapped shut, cocked his head as a follow-up comment seemed to slip from his mouth quick. He replaced the words with a couple fries and averted eyes. “Fine,” he relented around the bite. “And?”
He looked back up, eyebrows jumping. “Were they any good?”
“Who? The people?”
“The kissing, idiot. Was the kissing any good?”
Cas’ heart flopped. He slipped a hand down his beer bottle, and then back up again nervously. The motion pulled Dean’s attention in a glance, so Cas tucked the rogue thing back onto his lap instead. Fingers lacing together under the shelter of the slick waxed top where no one could see. “I don’t know. Yes?” he offered carefully.
“Are you tellin’ me, or askin’ me right now?”
“No—I mean… ” Cas cleared his throat, shifted in his chair, and listened to the wood slats groan. “They were fine. They were… wet.”
“Wet?” Dean repeated. “Cas, wet is how you describe a swimming pool… Oregon in the winter, maybe… Not a kiss. Never a good kiss.”
“Then how should I describe it?”
“No, I mean… if they were wet, then they were wet—”
“No, please. You tell me.”
Dean’s face suddenly fell wide in mock innocence. “What? You want me to describe a good kiss to you right now? In the middle of a restaurant.”
“If wet is insufficient—”
“Oh, yeah. It’s like, miles of not-sufficient-ness, dude.”
Cas chewed a smile down and gestured Dean’s way. Crossed his arms, and sat back. He watched Dean waffle before finally sliding back in his chair to think. He splayed wide, elbows up on the armrests and knees hugging the corners. His face caught the dim overhead lights, and the sun-kissed healthy pink of his skin shone back like warm earth.
He had white in the creases beside his eyes where his smile lines had shaded him from the harsh afternoon sun. A little cut of tan at the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses sat after he’d gotten sick of squinting through the reflections of every bright midday door.
“Okay, it’s like this,” he said finally, tapping an erratic finger on the neck of his bottle, and pausing to worry his lip. “A kiss is a kiss is a kiss, til it ain’t. If you’re with the right person, then the tension between you’s gonna be thick enough to cut. It’s gonna feel like you’ve got a firecracker in your gut, and that other person’s just flicking the Bic. The minute the two of you kiss, the fuse lights. That bastard explosive rips up through your chest, and pops behind your eyes, and I’m talking—screw seeing colorsat that point—you’ll be so wrecked, you’ll know what they sound like.”
Castiel smiled as Dean came back in with a languid look, and a tongue tip between his teeth. He peeled forward, hovering over the table, so much closer than before, that there was only the dragging smell of his burger all tangled up in his woody cologne for Cas to breathe.
“That’s a good kiss,” he said slowly, and maybe it was Castiel’s imagination, but the sun kiss on Dean’s cheeks had spread to his ears now. “Sounds good, don’t it?”
“It sounds very good,” Castiel agreed. “Very surreal.”
Dean let a long, animated sigh into the room and it mixed happy with the gentle murmur of the busy forks and glasses around them. “Oh, it’s very real,” he said. “Just not very common.”
He poked absently at the pile of cooling fries, and sucked the salt from the end of his finger. The gorgeous smacking sound it made curled red ribbons in Cas’ stomach. “Still, you find someone who’ll give you that, and it’s the kinda thing that’ll right some wrongs. Know what I mean?”
Cas took a long drink, smile falling as the carbonation from his beer prickled reality back into his tongue. “Sure,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Dean’s mouth thinned, and his eyes ping-ponged away uneasy. He tailed and tacked down the waitress, kept locked on her as she floated behind the counter poking something into the mounted LED screen beside the register. “Doesn’t that rub you, though?” he asked, “not knowing for yourself. Don’t you… want that with somebody?”
Cas puffed surprised, and his mouth went dry. Try as he might, the beer wouldn’t wet it. “I mean, yes…” he said earnestly, and the admission ate holes in his stomach.
“Then… how come you ignore all the waitresses I send your way? You’re never gonna get it if you don’t even try.”
Cas was suddenly, and shamefully aware of his attention at Dean’s lips, and when Dean snagged a glance at him, Cas tore his eyes away, shoved them onto the table instead. Focused everything he had on the bleed of condensation below the cool, brown bottle to his left.
“Those people wouldn’t change anything,” he said to the ring. “Colors were never meant to make sounds for some.”
Dean fidgeted the fries again, finally pushed them aside, and brushed the salt off his hand this time instead of eating it. “I guess we better head out,” he said, flagging the waitress. “Sam’s waiting.”
They paid, and headed back out into the melty summer heat. It was sunset, but the air was still laying in the city thick as a wool blanket. Shadows stretched through the streets like plastic-capped Halloween fingers, crowding up in the alleyways and turns, painting the dingy brick walls black.
Cas flared his coat to check his back pocket for his wallet as they passed a couple people with hungry eyes, but just as quickly remembered that he’d dropped his last twenty for the meal, and let the impulse to feed them drift out. Still, he welcomed the brief breeze it gave him, and he wondered if maybe it was getting time to rethink the coat. Grace or not, he seemed to be touchier to the temperatures these days, and it was starting to seem like wardrobe was becoming more important—practically speaking.
Dean shed his own suit coat as if he’d just read Castiel’s mind, and slung it over his shoulder with a hooked finger. His shirtsleeves were still shoved up to his elbows under the blazer, as if he’d put it on after dinner, distracted. “Nothing fancy,” he murmured to his feet.
“Hmm—?” He looked over quick, eyes wide, before blinking them back down. “What?”
“I just didn’t catch what you said.”
Dean shook his head. “I didn’t—” But when Cas frowned, opened his mouth to contest, Dean relented. “Oh, you mean the, uh, thing I said out loud…” He cleared his throat, added “apparently” under his breath, and slowed down for some oncoming foot traffic.
“I was just thinking about the, uh, Nichols’ story,” he said, temporarily falling in line behind Cas as a group of people passed. He touched the small of Cas’ back out of nowhere, and kept his hand there. Cas’ chest snagged. “The alibi Brent was peddling didn’t feel right.” His voice was soft in Cas’ ear, almost breathy—but brief, and when he pulled up beside Cas again, sidewalk clear, Cas grabbed a shaky glance, but Dean wasn’t watching.
“You, uh, think they have something to do with the black magic we’re seeing?” Cas asked, and his voice managed to pour out level, despite his stomach coming off that quick rollercoaster dip.
“I mean, the house was a little much for a twenty-hour a week gas-slinging gig at the local area Gas n’ Sip, don’t you think?”
It was the most they’d talked about the case all day.
“Fancy,” Cas reiterated, then, “I certainly never would’ve been able to afford that place when I worked there.” For some reason, the comment pulled Dean tight at the joints. “But I couldn’t even afford hourly motels.”
“Well… the hourlies charge more.”
Cas frowned again, started to ask why when Dean squirmed past it. “But, you’re right,” he said. “Doesn’t add up no matter how you flip the numbers.”
“So, do you suspect they’re the source of the black magic, or victims of it?”
They hopped down the curb, checking the way for traffic, and ended up on the grassy side of Spring Street, just down from their motel. Dean popped a piece of gum in his mouth, balled the wrapper, and stuck it back in his pocket instead of tossing it away.
“I suspect there’s something screwy going on,” he said, “and that’s as far as I’ve got.”
He plucked the gum from his mouth a moment later, and flicked it to the bushes, ran a hand down his face. “Sam’s doing backgrounds as we speak. Here’s hoping there’s a smoking gun in there somewhere. But, ‘til we get that, we’re pulling straws.”
The streetlamps kicked on, buzzing like fireflies in the thick night, the light falling on the street in goldweave strings as they hustled past a defunct sporting goods store—hollow bones brick and mortar now. No one missing what used to be inside.
Dean scanned the streets, watched another few strings of dusk foot traffic pass on the left while he chewed his cheeks.
“Did Sam find anything at the morgue?” Cas pressed, because the silence seemed oddly unnerving.
“No—I mean, uh, I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”
“I thought we were meeting him.”
Dean’s attention caught up in a little alcove at the end of the street and he gripped his jacket tighter, tucked his chin and let a heavy breath out. “We are,” he said quietly.
“Not at the morgue?”
“Um, no, he’s at the motel,” Dean said, and he sounded nervous. “Waiting to take us.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll find a hex bag, or—”
Dean suddenly shoved Cas’ sideways, off the street and into the alcove, shadows tangling up in the corners of it, all those long witch fingers bleeding to flat black. Castiel grunted, surprised. “What’re you—” and his throat went dry as Dean pushed him into the stuccoed brick backside of a closed Chinese restaurant, hands curling up on both sides of Cas’ jaw, but fingers combing a soft arc “—doing?”
“Nothin’, if you don’t want me to,” Dean whispered, conviction skippy at best. His body was hot against Cas. Heavy and hard. Nothing like April’s… Meg’s… Hannah’s…
The question—and it was a question—coiled in Cas’ belly like a fever dream, but an answer never had a chance of bubbling back out. Because a response would’ve been moot before it ever left his lips. Castiel’s pause was too long to be a no, and his fingers had already found their way to Dean’s waist. They were making note of the way his blue button down clung to his sides, like the tee underneath had been soaking in all that sudden, nervous heat since before they’d ever even left the bar.
And so, Dean brushed their lips together, not a hesitation so much as dipping a toe, and a rush of butterflies went right to Cas’ head without mercy. Cas whimpered without meaning to, and Dean landed the meat of the kiss, hands falling down Cas’ neck and dragging that unruly sensation through. His lips were soft and his cheeks, five o’clock gritty. He worked Cas’ mouth open with a roll of his jaw, and a flirty burst of mint graced Cas with the pass of Dean’s tongue.
Castiel melted into it, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head as he tried desperately to get a handhold on something. Their hips rolled together. Cas stole himself a handful of Dean’s ass. Felt Dean hard against him as he moved against Cas’ thigh.
Dean’s breath went rocky, like he was fighting some kind of tightrope walk of heavy and thin, and the sound he made was dirty enough to sin. Castiel nosed him, combed fingers through his hair as Dean pulled back. His eyes fell hot on Cas’ mouth. The shadows ate the flush from his face, but not the burning heat of it.
“Now tell me again,” he whispered, voice licking at Cas ear and coming out like gravy. “Tell me again what a kiss feels like.”
Castiel huffed, tried to catch his running brain. He couldn’t help himself, hands still at Dean’s waist, he held him there. The both of them were hard, and neither of them were in a hurry to do anything about it. “I would say… green makes a helluva sound,” he whispered back.
He watched a wicked smile crawl through Dean’s face. “There it is,” Dean hummed, dragging a chill with his thumb from the skin he’d bared at Cas’ side, and chasing it to Cas’ neck with a soft breath, a kiss. “An’ I’m just getting started too.”
Then, he pulled away, the absence of his sticky heat leaving Cas bare. The gravel chewed under Dean’s heels as he headed for the street, pausing only to stoop for the jacket he’d shed at some point on the way. He shook it off, straightened his tie. “Let’s go! We’re late!”
Castiel swallowed, hand to his stomach, and peeled himself from the brick.
There’s always going to be something magical about late night drives. Staring out my window, watching everything pass by in a cinematic way. I’d maybe think of you. I’d think of songs that I imagine playing in the background as we drive; like music in a credit role to conclude whatever our adventure was that day. I imagine us sitting in the front seat of your car laughing over something totally irrelevant. We’d lose our way, miss exits and get stuck in more and more highway traffic, but we’d still be laughing. We’d escape the traffic and flashes of blues and reds would all start to flicker over the edges of your face. It would be cold. You’d be holding my hand. No way to go and nothing planned; just a magical late night drive…
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public Teasing, Public Masturbation, Teasing in the car and in the bedroom, pleading, seduction, striping Dylan because he’s sexy as fuck, dry humping, thigh riding, hand jobs, face riding, handcuffs, blindfolds, 69 (aka oral male and female receiving), overstimulation, praising, orgasm denial, female riding male (regular and reverse cowgirl), whiny Dylan, mentions of dominant Dylan, A lot of submissive Dylan, BREATHY MOANS
Notes: I will make this short as I am writing this pool side from hell. I’m so sorry this took forever. I have no excuses. But hopefully it was worth it. I honestly don’t know if this is my best writing for what you guys wanted from this. I promise the next thing I write won’t take as long.