remember when i had no internet for a day and a half

shibolet3  asked:

Wait what con artist from 2014

I’d like to title this story “Swing And A Miss

Okay, so my high school had this program where seniors could leave school like a month and a half early and opt out of exams if they took on internships around the neighborhood, but not everyone wanted to/was eligible to do it. Back in like 2013, they had like 15 bored seniors stuck in the school, so the administration brought in this Professional Life Coach, left him in alone in a room with them for two hours to talk to them about like, self-esteem or some shit. All the kids were pulled out of their classes for this*, and later told the administration that they loved him, they really enjoyed the talk.

So, about a year later, we have a new principal. He’s supposed to set up an assembly for all the 11th and 12th graders, but he doesn’t know what to do. One of his coworkers mentions that there was a life coach that was a huge hit with the kids that didn’t do community study last year, so maybe he’d also be great for a larger audience. The principal basically thinks “okay, what the hell” and calls up and hires Jason C. Jean to come talk to the kids.

Now, it’s like, 10:30, maybe 11:00 in the morning, and two entire grades are getting shepherded to the main gymnasium, and no one wants to God damn be there. We ain’t got time for self esteem talks. We want to sleep. And this guy, watching us all drag our feet in and collapse into the bleachers was just like…offensively peppy. There’s a couple faculty members sitting behind him, the woman who suggested he be hired for this, the vice principals for the grades- but the principal himself kept getting calls so he was in and out the whole time.

Now, Mr. Jean was like…the chill “Just call me by my first name dude” history professor at college times 30. He was trying so fucking hard. I’m referring to him as ‘Mr. Jean’ in this story just to be disrespectful. So anyway, we all get in there, and he tells us right off the bat “You guys are totally allowed to be on your phones and laptops during this! I get it! It’s no problem, like really, I insist!” so while the faculty members are exchanging smiles that read ‘how do we kill that while respecting him’, all the kids are immediately pulling out their electronics and he’s starts his speech.

Now, again, I really wanna reiterate that he told us we could be on our phones- because when the news articles started coming out about this, I remember all these angry, annoying comments from old people like “Why the hell were the students on their phones in the first place! So disrespectful! These damn millennials and their social media!” like, they were completely ignoring the entire story and just focusing in on kids using the internet, and it Really Super Pissed Me Off, so. Again, we had permission for this (which also ended up being Mr. Jean’s fatal mistake).

So, he starts off this speech fairly normally, like ‘hi, I’m Jason, I’m a professional life coach and I wanna teach you kids about how to be The Best You!’ and like people were tuning him out and listening to varying degrees. Some kids (like myself) were kinda dozing off, and everyone was on twitter or facebook.

His approach to a self esteem speech seemed to be ‘let me tell you my entire life story for hours’ and like, at first I was like “I’m not really hearing this, I’m half dreaming right now” but the more I started making myself pay attention the more…bizarre and rambling his story got.

So like, for instance, he told us he drank a lot in high school. Like, a lot. But he didn’t use that as a ‘don’t drink or party too hard’ lesson, instead he was like “I was fourteen so I always called my parents to pick me up, and they weren’t mad because they knew it meant I could trust them. So remember, always tell your parents when you’re drinking!” and then it kinda got to a point where it sounded like he was encouraging partying and drinking and the like to the group of underage kids.

And then, he told us how he used to play baseball all the time when he was a kid, and at 16 reached a crossroads in his life where the Phillies wanted to draft him or he could go play football for Penn State. And he said he went with Penn State but later lost the scholarship for some reason and we’re like…really.

There was absolutely nothing coherent about anything he was saying- nothing that tied anything together, made a point, seemed like it had anything to do with an assembly on self esteem. He told us at one point he was making upwards of 7 million a year. He told us one time before college he was homeless. He told us he used to own a construction company and built his own branch of nightclubs himself, that he and his friend then ran. He told us he fought a shark and came out with no scars. He told us that he had less money now, because after surviving a work related accident- direct quote- “I fell almost 30 feet and I broke in half” - he decided to leave that industry and spend more time with his family.

So, yeah, I was pretty positive this was bullshit, but there were clearly kids in the room that were falling for it. But then he said something like…he and his friend got bored one day and started jarring up their own pasta sauce, and made a deal with wegmans or some store like that to start selling it, and now he has a pasta sauce empire. Like he spent 15 fucking minutes on this. The way he kept saying ‘pasta sauce’ was so annoying I was about to claw my ears out. But anyway, two girls in my grade wanted to find out what brand he was talking about, so they googled his name.

And then quietly gasped.

And then furiously started typing into their phones.

And remember- everyone, even though they were paying attention- was on twitter and facebook. All the sudden I see heads flying up and wide eyes and people whispering to each other. Mr. Jean doesn’t seem to notice the change and keeps rambling on, but I know something happened so I google him too and-

Okay so basically he’s 1) been arrested, 2) filed for bankruptcy like three times and 3) has been hailed as a ‘Swinger Guru’ by playboy.

EVERYONES SILENTLY FLIPPING OUT.

So by now, this is a fucking game- he still doesn’t notice anything wrong amongst the kids, so we’re all silently texting each other to fill each other in. Pulling up receipts. But still playing the part of politely intrigued audience members. The school faculty have no fucking idea what’s going on, until one of the students texts her mom, who happens to be the woman that convinced the principal to hire this guy. We see her check her phone, go wide-eyed, and she runs out of the fucking room presumably to either find the principal or hide in terror.

So Mr. Jean had been talking to random people intermittently throughout this speech, but we reach the ‘questions’ part of it. Everyone seems to silently agree that instead of just asking him anything outright, we should just see how good of a liar he was. So they’d be asking him stuff like ‘how much money did you make with ____ company’ and he’d give a ridiculously high number as people were sending each other reports of him filing for bankruptcy during that time. Or they asked him about his construction business which he said was great, and while he was talking about how great it was we were all reading his arrest report, from when a woman hired him to build her house, and he took her money and then like…just didn’t build anything. Wild. Someone asked him about his family and he’s extolling Christian virtues while we’re all on the website for his annual Swing Fest. People would ask him how he got certain jobs and he was making promises to hook kids up in interviews and shit. Everyone was loosing their God damn minds online and just barely holding it together in person. This man was so beyond full of shit- like, he was a God awful life coach but his dedication to lying was inspirational.

We eventually get to leave and everyone is yelling and cracking up and freaking out, all running to our classes to tell the teachers and the underclassmen everything, and the teachers are freaking out, alternating between horrified confusion and laughing hysterically. Before the school day even ended, someone had called a bunch of news stations. The principal was freaking out and denying he had anything to do with it, before calling some students to his office to see what exactly the kids had searched up on the guy…Because apparently teenagers can perform better background checks than school officials. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks.

A couple months after this, for my theater class’ showcase, I wrote and directed a skit called ‘Mason B. Mean’. It was a huge hit. The principal was in the audience. I’ve never seen a grown man look so dead inside. I made sure I was out of the room before he came up to congratulate the cast and everything. The next day, my theater teacher told me his only comment about the skit was a quiet, long-suffering “Why.” 😂😂

Annnnnnnnd that’s the time a Swinger Entrepreneur rambled on about pasta sauce and money in front of teenagers who knew how to use google for almost two hours.  

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/breaking/Montco_principal_apologizes_for_having_swinger_entrepreneur_speak_to_kids.html

blackbearmagic’s Crystal Hunting Guide

Introduction

Scientific Fact: Witches love crystals almost as much as they love jars. 
Consumerism Fact: In many metaphysical shops, nice-looking crystals can be had for relatively cheap.
Ethical Fact: Many of those crystals are as cheap as they are because they are mined with no consideration for the damage done to the environment or the welfare of the humans collecting them.

So what’s a good, honest, ethically-minded witch to do, especially if he/she/they don’t have the money to afford crystals that were mined sustainably and responsibly, or the time to research which sellers obtain their wares from ethical mines?

Find their own.

I’ve been crystal hunting all my life, but only within the last year have I started doing it seriously. I’ve walked away from a creeking expedition with slabs of smoky quartz the size of my palm or calcite hunks bigger than my fist, and I personally think creek-crystal energy is much more vibrant and easy to work with; by comparison, the crystal points I’ve bought from metaphysical shops feel… inert, lifeless.

So let’s get straight into it!

What You’ll Need

  • a good-sized creek or stream with lots of gravel spits along its length
  • offerings to the spirit of the creek, if appropriate to your personal practice
  • bug spray, sunscreen, snacks, water, and anything else you’d normally bring on a hike
  • your trusty adventurer’s Bag of Holding
  • your sweet self

Now let’s talk details.

When I say “gravel spits”, this is what I’m referring to:

These tumbles of stone are going to be where you’ll find your treasures, and the size of the stones themselves actually tells you what size of crystal you might find: When the conditions are right (ie, during a flood), the water flowing through that portion of the creek is capable of lifting and moving rocks of the size you see there now. 

In my experience, the crystal specimens you’ll find are typically half or one-third the size of the average rock on the spit. They’re usually larger than the smallest rocks, but much smaller than the largest rocks. Not always, though–I have found specimens larger. (See the introduction.)

Regarding offerings, if that’s part of your path, you’ll want to make sure it’s nothing that will harm the local wildlife or damage the ecosystem in any way. My personal go-to is water, ideally water from a bottle I haven’t drunk from yet.

In the same vein as offerings, I’ve had great success in making a sort of bargain with the spirit of the place: That in return for treasures, I will pick up and remove any litter I find in the area. It is, of course, always a good idea to remove any litter you see when you’re out in nature, but it doesn’t hurt to point out to the spirit of the place that it’s something you’re doing for it. Bring along a trash bag to help collect it.

Lastly, with regards to your bag, I would advise something with two shoulder straps. Rocks are heavy.

What You’ll Do

Once you’ve hiked to your creek and found a gravel spit with lots of good-sized rocks, it’s time to start looking. There’s two main approaches I’ve found that work well, and I tend to use both. 

The first is a broad sweep. This one works best if you’ve got good lighting on the rocks. All you do is stand in one spot and sway side to side slightly while looking over the gravel, looking for anything that glints, shines, or otherwise catches the light shining on it. If you see something, investigate it. Repeat.

The second is the more detailed search. Get down on the ground–whether that means kneeling, crouching, laying on your belly, I don’t care–and go over each rock one by one. Use your eyes and use your hands. I imagine this method is probably going to be unpleasant for a lot of you, but honestly, it’s like crack to me.

Once you’ve combed over the current gravel spit as thoroughly as you please, pack up and move on to the next. Continue for as long as you like, or until you feel it’s time to go. Just remember that as far out as you go is how far you’ll have to walk back!

Advice and Warnings

Tell someone where you’re going and when you expect to be back. If you godsforbid go missing, they’ll be able to give the police an idea of where to start searching for your poor, lost ass.

Keep a charged cell phone with you at all times. 

If you see something or someone iffy, do your best avoid it. Sometimes there are creepy people in the woods, and sometimes they do creepy things. Don’t get involved.

Make sure you’re not trespassing on private property. All of the creeks I hike on are on public land. If you’re in a state park or other protected environmental area, don’t go off the trail–you could cause damage to a fragile ecosystem.

Following the creek is a good way to get out and back without losing your way.  Don’t stray too far from it if you’re in unfamiliar territory.

The best times of year to go hunting–assuming Northern Hemisphere, a temperate climate and deciduous forests around the creek–are the spring and summer. In the autumn, you’ll have to clear fallen leaves off of the gravel before you can look, and winter is too cold. 

The best time of day is the morning, when the sun angle is lower and is more likely to glint off of shiny rocks.

You’ll have your best luck the day after heavy rain. Rain will swell the stream and shift the stones around, and could uncover new treasures! 

Inspect anything that looks even remotely worthwhile. You’ll find a lot of duds, sure, but that will help train your brain to tune out what you don’t care about finding.

“What Can I Find?”

Exactly what sort of minerals and crystals you’ll find is highly variable. All minerals are not equally distributed across the planet, because many of them require very different conditions to form and the crust composition varies slightly from place to place. However, there are some stones that are pretty common all over the Earth, so no matter where you go hunting, you’re likely to find them.

Of course, for more specific identifications, please consult the internet, a book on mineralogy, or your local rockhounding club. 

Quartz

The chemical formula of quartz is SiO2, or silicon dioxide. Silicon and oxygen are, by mass, the two most abundant elements in Earth’s crust; around 90% of it is composed of silicate minerals like quartz. Ever find a pretty, sparkly, mostly-clear rock on the ground? It was probably quartz. 

Quartz comes in a mind-boggling array of colors, from smoky quartz so dark it’s practically opaque to purple-and-orange ametrine to the brilliant clear of a Herkimer diamond (yup, not actually diamonds) but all of these varieties are still quartz. In my region of North America, clear and smoky quartz seem to be the most plentiful. 

Calcite

Calcite is calcium carbonate, CaCO3. Like quartz, it is made of some of the Earth’s most abundant crustal elements (in this case, calcium and oxygen) and comes in a stunning array of colors. In my creeks, I’ve found calcite in yellow, orange, white, and even blue and red.

The biggest giveaway for rough calcite is its texture. If you pick up a rock and it feels like someone rubbed wax all over it, you’ve probably got yourself a calcite specimen.

Feldspar

Feldspar is one of the most abundant minerals in the crust, alongside quartz. It’s also a silicate, and it frequently finds its way into other minerals, such as granite. 

What sets feldspar apart from the other two minerals I’ve mentioned here is its fracture habit: It naturally fractures along cleavage planes which intersect at 90-degree angles. It doesn’t shatter–it shears. If you find a rock with a smooth face that looks like a polished stone countertop, it’s probably feldspar.

“But Bear, I Want Crystal Points!”

Oh. Yeah.

You can find those too. 

Every one of those pictures is of quartz points that I have found in my area. (In fact, they’re actually all from the same crystal-hunting hike, and represent only about a third of the specimens I found that day!) As you can see, they aren’t all perfect–and I have plenty of others that are, like, three facets and no point–but they’re all beautiful, and some of them really sing, if you know what I mean. 

Conclusion

Finding your own crystals can be pretty simple, when you get down to it. It can be a lot of fun to get down and dirty, and is a great way to get yourself out in nature for a while. And, of course, you can rest assured that your crystals were gathered in a sustainable, respectful, ethical manner–assuming you took care of yourself and the environment while finding them!

Best of luck! –Bear

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

MBTI types as people I know

MBTI types as people I know
I’ve seen this a lot around here and I thought heck why not
Written by an INFJ

ISFJ
- Best Friend
- Seriously get yourself one of these they’re THE BEST
- Super stable and don’t like drama
- You can have fun with them over really small things like sharing M&M’s on the way to school
- Can cook like heaven
- Easily offended so watch your mouth
- Will share anything with you but you have to ask first
- Mom friend

ISTJ
- Best Friend
- JUDGMENTAL AF seriously go to a random city with them and they can give an half hour roast on a stranger’s shoes
- Notice literally everything
- Likes their cats over you and will send you adorable snapchats of them
- Will argue with the teacher and ask impossible questions until they cry
- They’re aesthetically gifted
- Sometimes does things that make you go “wtf kid” but you love them anyway

INTJ
- MBTI buddy. I introduced them to it and now they finally feel like somebody understands them even if it’s just the internet
- Seriously if you know one of these TALK TO THEM AND ASK THEM QUESTIONS they’re usually quiet but if you ask they’ll like that
- Intriguing
- Emotions are not their thing so don’t be feely with them
- They can’t cry
- Will somehow get you to tell your deepest traumas at 2 am for no apparent reason
- Do not take their painful, mean, accurate comments too seriously or you’ll end up with a major inferioritycomplex

ESFP
- Highly Recommended
- You can talk to them about literally anything
- Seriously there is no private when you talk to one of these which is kinda nice because sometimes there’s shit you can’t even tell your bff and that’s when the esfp comes in handy
- Will do stupid stuff and then continue to do even more stupid stuff
- They mean well but it somehow goes wrong every time
- Drama Queen
- GOSSIP they’re not good at it but if you wanna shit talk about someone they’re yours
- You easily forget you’re angry at them
- Feed them lemonade and say it’s wine and they’ll believe you and act drunk

ESFJ
- Perfect
- Annoyingly Perfect
- They join like five giveaways a day and they actually win something
- SO DAMN LUCKY
- Confident af on the outside but secretly pretty insecure
- Friends with everybody and they genuinely like everybody
- Knows everything about everyone but you don’t know a thing about them

ENTP
- Lazy genius
- They do everything except for the things they have to do
- PUNS. MEMES. MORE PUNS.
- Has watched a lot of shows and will remember every single episode which is great because they’ll understand your references when others don’t
- They have no sense of timing
- Sometimes make harsh comments without knowing the impact on someone and then act like the others are being petty
- They mean well but they’re not very insightful
- Snapchat game is on point

ENTJ
- Supersmart and annoyed at people who are not
- Watches horror series for fun
- Probably was the kind of kid that operated on their stuffed animals with real scissors
- They have a strange liking for the dead
- They care a lot about their friendships
- They expect you to feel what they are feeling and are Highly Disappointed when you don’t
- Secretly cinnamon rolls

INFJ
- I MET ANOTHER ONE OF ME HOLY SH*T
- I had never met one of me so you can imagine my happiness
- Big Sis Friend who shares everything with you
- They know about literally everything and everyone’s secrets
- Will get you to spill your crush and darkest secrets without asking and without returning the favour
- So pair them with an INTJ and you got yourself a duo that knows it all
- So nice omg (this is where she and I are different because i’m not as nice as her)
- They care about you A LOT even when they don’t say it
- Not the best talkers but write like Shakespeare would they want to

INFP
- So innocent
- Their pure souls don’t even know what smut is and all that
- PROTECT THEM AGAINST THE CRUELNESS OF THIS WORLD
- They always have food and/or are talking about food
- Under appreciated
- Cry over every goddamn movie even Kung Fu Panda
- They will tell you when you’re being rude or when you death stare and they won’t go easy on you
- Put them together with an INTJ that results in a ten-minute lecture on being nice from the INFP it’s hilarious
- Not taken seriously but you should because they give pretty damn good life advice
- “If you ever wanna be happy in life, buy purple sunglasses”

ESTJ
- Will someday be president
- Moral knight
- Will sigh at your stupidity but help you anyways
- Not the best at communication when it comes to group projects
- You only know you love them when they’re gone because then you realize that they are the link between everyone in your friend group and without them everything falls apart
- The one I know is super innocent idk if that goes for all ESTJs
- Is willing to do A LOT for their friends
- The grumpiest grump or a super hyper and happy no inbetween

ENFP
- Way too nice
- Seriously they’re nice to everyone so I’m never sure if they genuinely like you or if they’re just being nice
- Look good in every goddamn photo even when they’re not trying
- They look like happy campers but they have secrets that they don’t wanna tell to anybody (except to the INFJ and i’m really annoyed it’s the one I know and not me)
- Did I mention they’re too nice?

INTP *the intj friend wrote this because he knows the intp better - Really likes food - The best person to have an argument with, but will at the same time try to agree with you if it means something to you - Sleeps 12 hours a day - Always late - Looks after and cares for his friends a lot although they don’t notice it - Does not like telling intimate stuff - Needs to solve the fuck out of everything - The best person to have stupid and meaningless conversations/arguments (something in between) with about the immortality of lobsters

I’m sorry to istp, estp and isfp (edit: and enfj, so sorry!) i don’t know any of them

Unrequited

Summary: As a teenager you’d been best friends with Sam Winchester, particularly since your mother and his father hunted together whenever they felt they needed backup. But then you’d moved country, and all interactions with the Winchesters were of the non-physical kind. So when they call on you for backup, you jump at the chance to see your best friend again, not to mention see his big brother, on who you’d had a mild crush on.
The hunt goes well, the rest of the evening, however, doesn’t exactly go your way.  
Pairing
: Alpha!DeanxOmega!Reader
Words
: 3963
Warnings
: A/B/O Dynamics. Smut.
AN: This was an Anon Request! I’m quite pleased with this one, and kinda tempted to write a sequel… let me know what you think of that idea!!!
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!

***

Your phone started ringing for the third time in a row, and you couldn’t suppress your exasperated groan as you tugged a sweatshirt over your wet hair and damp skin. Snatching it up off the scuff-marked plastic table you chanced a quick glance at the caller ID before answering.

Sam Winchester.

Of course.

“You better have a damn good reason for disturbing my day off, Winchester,” you teased, tucking the mobile between your shoulder and ear so you could return to the damp towel you’d tossed onto the bed and set about drying your hair more thoroughly. The bastard knew you were taking a day to pamper yourself, yet still decided to drive you mad with your own ringtone. How very rude of him.

On the end of the line, Sam just chuckled, and you could just picture him shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughed, but you could detect genuine regret in his voice. “It’s just that I know you’re nearby, and me and Dean could use an extra pair of hands on this one. Dean will hate me when he finds out I rang… he doesn’t like thinking there are more Vamps than we can handle,” he said. A faint scraping sound in the background suggested that he’d just taken a seat, too.

As you once again dropped the towel onto your bed in favour of your hairbrush, you let out an amused titter. “Certainly sounds like Dean,” you mused, “sounds like he’s well on his way to becoming one of those stereotypical stubborn Alphas you get on TV.”

Once again, you heard the distinctive rumble of Sam laughing. That was when a thought hit you, and your face lit up in a smile so broad that your cheeks actually hurt.

“Hold up… does-does that mean I actually get to see you guys? And I mean see you, not just skype or a screen-shared movie?”

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compliments part 2 - zach dempsey

requested: yes

word count: 2.216

warnings: none besides fluff i think

plot: zach decides to (nervously) confront you after finding out you’re the one slipping compliments in his bag

a/n: i Cannot believe a 2nd part was requested i cant believe you guys enjoyed the first part and sent me messages!! i wasn’t planning on writing this but here she is since y’all are cute as heck


Originally posted by veronicsalodge

Thursday night found Zach Dempsey sprawled on his bed.

A week worth of complimentary notes was at the foot of the bed. Some were folded, some all the way open but none of them were in their original, pristine state. They were crumpled, thing that probably happened whenever the boy stuffed them in his pockets.

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Mixed Black African Girl (Cameroonian/French)

I’m a mixed black african girl who grew up and lived most of her life in Cameroon, in Central Africa. My dad is half-white (french) and half-black (cameroonian), and my mom is 100% cameroonian. There’s little to no black african characters in popular fiction, which has always bothered me, and it would be so nice to read about someone like me for once.

  • Culture and food

Cameroon is a country created during colonization, with borders defined by europeans. Because of that, Cameroon is actually made of 200 ethnic groups, each of them having their own language and culture. So the culture and daily habits vary a lot depending on which region of Cameroon you are in. In the big cities, though, everyone is mingled no matter where they’re from. However, so many different ethnic groups cohabiting together often causes tension. There are also a lot of stereotypes about every ethnic group.

I grew up in the central and coastal areas of the country, and I’m Bassa. The Bassa are one of the main ethnic groups in Cameroon. If your parents are from two different ethnic groups, it is decided that you officially belong to your father’s ethnic group. My mother is Bakoko but my father is Bassa, so I’m the latter. When I meet another Cameroonian, two of the first questions we usually ask each other are : What are you (meaning, what’s your ethnic group) ? and Where is you village ?

Villages are very important in the Cameroonian culture. Your village is where your father’s ancestors were born. Even if you’re not born there, you usually have grandparents or great-uncles or family friends living there, and if you have enough money to do so you must regularly visit your village. And usually, when people earn enough money, they send money to their village so that people living there can have a better life, build more houses and schools etc.

Cameroonian food is very diverse, and varies depending on the region. The national dish is Ndolé, a dish made with ndolé leaves, stewed nuts, and meat (fish, beef or shrimps). Other common foods are bobolo and miondo (food made out of fermented manioc), soya (spicy grilled meat on skewers), and plantain. My dad is half-french though, so at home we eat almost as much french food as cameroonian food (crème brûlée, shepherd’s pie, beef bourguignon, A LOT of bread and cheese).

  • Language

There are hundreds of different languages, but the official languages are French and English. Cameroon was colonized by France and England so Northern Cameroon mainly speaks english and central/southern Cameroon mainly speaks french. Most people also speak their ethnic group’s language. I don’t know how to speak Bassa, though, because neither do my parents. When me and my siblings were kids, our dad asked our baby-sitter to teach us, but she could only do so much and I only remember a few words.

  • Beauty Standards

Like most countries, there is a lot of colorism in Cameroon based on European beauty standards. When you’re a woman, the lighter you are, the prettier and more desirable you are considered. Dark skinned women are often mocked and considered not as pretty. A lot of people, mainly women but also men, use dangerous products to lighten their skin. Internalized racism and white beauty standards are very insidious, and a lot of people want to look like white people, including me when I was younger. As a kid I remember wishing i was a pretty blonde-haired blue-eyed white girl like the heroines of the books i was reading. Growing up I stopped wishing that, but I relaxed and straightened my hair a lot, wanting to have long straight hair without realizing that it was still an attempt to look like the ideal version of a white girl. I’m sure that if I had more black female characters to relate to when I was growing up, I wouldn’t have spend so many years hating myself without even realizing I was doing it.

Also, Cameroonians usually consider thick, curvy women to be the ideal beauty standard. But being thin is still an ideal broadcast by the media (especially that american and european media are heavily broadcast and consumed in Cameroon) so most women still diet a lot and go to the gym to lose weight.

  • Clothing

Women wear a lot of skirts and dresses, be it casual or for work. Most cameroonian schools have uniforms and mandatory hairstyles (either cornrows or short shaved hair).

Elderly people often wear more traditional clothes and outfits. The most prominent traditional item of clothing is the Kaba. The Kaba is a long dress made of wax fabric and other materials and is owned by pretty much every woman. The dress looks different depending on the situation : the Kaba you wear when you stay at home is usually very long and very loose, the Kaba you wear during official/formal events is more tight-fitting and stylized, etc.

  • Dating and Relationships

I’ve never dated anyone, but when I was in high school none of my friends ever told their parents they were seeing someone. Having your parents know about and meet the person you’re dating after only a few weeks or months is something that just doesn’t happen (unless someone gets pregnant). It’s when things get serious that you introduce them to your family. Also, a lot of parents would prefer their children to marry someone from the same ethnic group.

Homosexuality is still illegal there, and you can go to jail for being gay.

  • Home/Family life

My parents are still happily married, and I have 3 siblings. My parents are both close to their siblings, and I’m close to mine. Me and my siblings grew up with our cousins, we were always at each other’s houses. I pretty much consider most of my cousins as extra siblings. We have a very big extended family and every day I discover new distant cousins, aunts, great-uncles etc. My dad being half-french, when I was growing up we sometimes went to France during summer to visit his relatives living there.

In Cameroon, most people who have enough money to do so send their children to study abroad once they’ve graduated high school. I’m currently living in France for my studies, and most of my high school friends are also going to college in France, England, Canada, Brussels, South Africa etc.

  • Identity issues

Despite being only ¼ white, I’m very light-skinned. My siblings being much darker skinned, when I was a kid I thought I was adopted (i’m not, it’s just genetics). Cameroon being a black country, when someone is visibly mixed and light-skinned as i am, most people just label them “white”. A lot of people would refer to me as “the white” and it always really hurt me. My family wouldn’t understand why i was so angry and hurt, they’d say “they don’t mean anything by it, it’s just that you’re light” but the fact is it made me feel like i don’t belong. I’m cameroonian, i’ve lived in Cameroon almost my entire life, i’m black, and still some people see me as “other”, they see me as white. And so for a long time, I didn’t dare to call myself black, I’d say “I’m biracial” or “I’m mixed” instead because I somehow felt like a fraud. But I’m black and not white-passing at all, and I still experience racism abroad (but I’m aware I have a lot more privilege than dark skinned people).

  • Daily struggles

So I’m currently living in France. On one hand, sometimes white people are racist toward me, or just totally obnoxious and ignorant, trying to touch my natural hair and thinking that people in Cameroon don’t have computers or whatever. On the other hand, when I randomly meet other cameroonians and we start talking, they always assume that because i’m mixed i’ve lived my entire life in France and i don’t know anything about Cameroon. And there’s nothing wrong with being a child of immigrants and not knowing the country your parents or grandparents came from, but i know that if i wasn’t visibly mixed they wouldn’t question the fact that i know Cameroon and lived there my entire life.

  • Misconceptions

Because of how the media depict African countries, a lot of people think that everyone in Africa is extremely poor and starving, that we don’t have electricity and internet and that everyone lives in huts. Which is so false. We have rich people and poor people, we have huge modern cities and regular cities and small villages with huts, almost everyone has access to a tv and internet, etc.

  • Things I’d like to see less of

Cameroon and other african countries being depicted as poor unfortunate countries where everyone is starving and illiterate and waiting for the generous white people to save us. What we need is for people to see us as the humans we are, and to allow us to grow in peace.

  • Things I’d like to see more of

Black african characters being written as the complex human beings we are. Shy black african characters. Nerdy and hella smart black african characters. Mixed black african characters who struggle with their identity. LGBTQ black african characters.

  • Tropes/Stereotypes I’m tired of seeing.

The “savage”, “uncivilized” african. African characters who are aggressive, dumb and shout all the time. The poor africans in need of saving by white people.

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

The Train

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4201

Prompt: Y/N walks in, and Harry notices she’s wearing yellow again, this time it’s a yellow sweater with a pair of dark skinny jeans and brown ankle boots, her hair is pulled back into a pony tail with a white scrunchie with little smiling suns and he swears that he has to squint to look at her. “Oh! I know you-you’re the guy from the train,” Y/N beams, “Harry, right?” she sets down the tray of muffins.

 “I didn’t tell you my name,” Harry snaps.

 Y/N pouts, “well yeah, but I’m also not stupid,” she says. 

“Are you joining us today Harry?” the man asked, “I’m Seth, I run the group.”

“Why else would I fucking be here,” Harry grumbled.

 Y/N grabs a muffin, ignoring Harry’s sour attitude, “here, they’re made with love,” she smiled, holding out the blueberry muffin.

 “Fuck off,” Harry says. He watches as her smile fades and the glint in her eyes seems to disappear, for a split second Harry feels like a dick, but then he realizes he doesn’t care and Y/N should just shove the muffin up her ass.


Harry was annoyed.

It really hadn’t been his day at all. His morning was terrible, he woke up next to a blonde and he tried really hard to remember her name-only to fail. When he asked her to leave she insisted on making breakfast, to which Harry responded with “feel free to grab something and leave” and then he proceeded to shower. When he got out, the unknown girl stood in his kitchen making herself a smoothie and toast. Her red lips in a pout, “come on, you can’t be in that big of a rush,” Harry ended up calling security, she was crazy.

When he went into the studio he was blank, the songs he did come in with were rejected and he couldn’t find the energy or muse to write another one. He was out of inspiration, nothing amused Harry anymore. He found himself not enjoying the things he used to love, drinks seemed to be the only thing that made him feel something (and it was only for a little bit). He didn’t enjoy being surrounded by his friends and family, his love for writing was slipping through the cracks, and his energy was fading.

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Two Nights Stand

Summary: (Modern Au) After a bad breakup, your roommate insists that you need to a one night stand to end your dry spell and take your ex out of your system. But what happens when you forced to spend time with your one night stand?

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1446

Warnings: This is vaguely inspired by a movie of the same name,. Readers thoughts are in italic;

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta. You rock.

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

We need to talk.” Your roommate says getting in your room and sitting on your bed “Can it wait a few minutes, Wanda? This episode is almost done.” She groans annoyed, turning off the TV. “No, it can’t, you watched two whole seasons this week. You need to get out more, have fun and get laid. Really, when was the last time you got out of the house?”

You straighten up your sweater, sitting up on the bed, “Yesterday, to go to work.” She rolls her eyes at you and you feel like a kid that talked back to her parents. “Sure, you go to work almost every day, but when was the last time you got out the house to have fun?”

You don’t answer her because you don’t remember. Your life lately has been going to work and going home. “See, you don’t even remember. Look, I know that since you and Nathan broke up things are hard, but you need to go back out there. Have fun, do something crazy.”

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Cabin//pt.3

(I’ve spent more time looking for a picture/gif for this than actually writing this. My fingers got a goddamn workout from scrolling for the past couple hours and I swear I’ve seen every BBH pic on the internet now. Just think about that chair as the dining room table chair, and he’s got the smirk I guess so… here)

genre: smut, fluff, friend!au,

warning: Eating out, graphic smut, A (kind of) HELLA TWIST, Baekhyun still being a goddamn tease like always.

length: I guess It’s a pretty good length

Authors note: SO THE SMUT BEGINS. A lot of you requested that the smut begins in this chapter, but a lot of you also requested that it didn’t so I thought I would meet you guys half way and give you something a little spicy to hold you off till the next chapter. Please don’t be afraid to leave recommendations or requests for what you want to see in later chapters in my ask box along with other smuts, fluffs, reactions, etc. Enjoy!

pt: 1 // 2 // 3

______

“You know you sleep talk.”

Oh no, oh no. You’ve been sleep talking since you were about ten years old, and everything that ever comes out is either gibberish, or your actual thoughts, especially when asked questions.

You laugh, although it comes off shakier than you would have liked. “Oh yeah, I once had a twenty minute conversation with my mom about why fidget spinners caused the cold war.” You walk towards the dining room table, trying to put on the best poker face you can manage, “wh-what did I say?” Good job y/n, now he knows you’re nervous.

He gives a little chuckle then slowly glides towards you, sitting in the seat just opposite. “We’ll…” he looks to the ceiling as if he’s trying to remember. “At first you were randomly talking about ‘the large cheeto man with a comb over’ and I assumed that you meant Donald Trump, so I asked you if you were talking about Donald Trump you said, 'Ah yes, he is a very large cheeto indeed.’” He takes a sip of his soda, “And when you answered my first question, I thought I might as well ask you some other questions.” Your eyes are wide and fingers gripping tightly to the bottom of the wooden chair. He see’s your panicked expression and gives you a sweet smile, continuing. “So I asked you, 'What’s your favorite thing about Baekhyun?’” Oh my god, OH MY GOD. “And you immediately said 'his smile’ and I thought that was really adorable, but then you sleepishly decided to continue,” You grip your chair harder, knuckles turning white. “'His smile, and oh god his hands? have you seen his hands? They’re sculpted by God himself, just like the rest of his body. But that smile, that smile is the best goddamn thing on this Earth. Oh and his singing voice. I can listen to him sing to me for the rest of my life.’” You slouch down in your chair, closing your eyes to avoid eye contact from the everlasting embarrassment that is now engorging you. “And when you’re finally finished about going on and on about my smile and how you can look at it all day and night, I asked, 'So what do you think about Baekhyun as a person?’ and you hesitated for a second so I thought you were awake,” he laughs “but then you rambled about how I was an ass for like 5 years to you and then you said,” You hear him take a sip, this time his voice turns a little more serious as he continues. You can practically feel his eyes burning through you even with yours being closed. “'Baekhyun is easy to fall in love with, especially when he’s your neighbor.’” Your eyes shoot open and meet with his immediately, “'The Baekhyun you fall in love with isn’t the Baekhyun that is an asshole to you everyday, but the Baekhyun you see behind his window. The Baekhyun that you see smiling and singing and being himself from a distance.’” You’re in shock, you didn’t even know you could comprehend sentences while you’re sleep talking, let alone confess this hardcore to Baekhyun. “It gave me quite a shock I do have to admit,” he gives you a nervous laugh.

You squeeze your eyes shut again in pure  embarrassment, “Baekhyun you weren’t supposed to hear any of that I’m sorry.” Your words come out fast and high pitched.

“It’s okay, really. I just thought it was funny?” He gives you a little shrug before you stand, heading towards the fridge for some orange juice, your throat is extremely dry.

Baekhyun trails behind you so he can sit at the kitchen island, “Is my smile really that great?” You hear him say playfully behind you.

“Yah! Baek shut up!” You say turning around to give him a dirty look, though it comes off more innocent than anything, you look more like a pissed off 7 year old.

“Baek? I like that.” He smiles widely, obviously trying to smile as much as he can now.

You roll your eyes at him and pour yourself a glass of orange juice drinking it slowly so you can coat your dry throat.

“So you actually wanted to die when I walked out of the bathroom in only a towel?”

You choke on your orange juice.

“Wh-what?”

“You said that you wanted to die when I came out of the bathroom because 'his body is so heavenly I had to run to the room just to get some air.’” He says in a mock voice, “OH! And I knew that you were staring at me while I slept the other night! You admitted it!”

You didn’t even know what to do. Do you run? Or laugh along? No, instead your body decides to do the most extra thing it can think of by squatting down behind the counter so he couldn’t see you.

“Ah it’s okay y/n, I know my lips are plump and exquisite under the moonlight.”

“Oh my god.” Was all you could whisper to yourself.

When you stood up from your awkward counter squat, your face was as red as a tomato.

“I didn’t think you found me so hot y/n.” He winks at you, taking another long sip from his soda.

You took a long sigh and looked skyward. Why the hell is this happening to you? This could have happened any other time, but no, it had to happen when you’re stuck in a cabin with Baekhyun for another 4 days.

“I’m gonna um… take a nap.” You say, pointing in the direction of the room before dragging your body down the hallway.

Just as you entered and started to close it, Baekhyun squeezed through and pushed you up against the door with one hand, the other settling right next to your head, trapping you.

“I wasn’t finished.” His voice came out deeper than usual.

He pushed towards you, lips almost touching as he whispered, “Did you like watching me get off to you?” You gasp and quickly look down at the floor.

He moves his head to the right, attaching his loft lips to your neck.

Your body is completely still, unable to move even if you wanted to.

He continues, “You kept going on about how nice my 'long thick cock looked in my hand as I was pulling it at the thought of you.’” The hand that was placed next to your head starts brushing your hair out of the way so he could lick up the shell of your ear, stopping to slowly suck on your lobe, “You were touching yourself on the other side of the door while you watched me cum at the thought of you?"Your thighs clench hard under the sound of his voice in your ear.

"Well?” He leaves an open mouth kiss on the spot under your ear, “Is it true?”
Not know what else to say, you nod your head and whisper a slow, “yes.”

His lips are on yours. His kiss is soft yet dominating as he licks your lower lip asking for entrance. Your tongues start battling for dominance, eventually submitting to him.

You thread your hands through his brown locks as he pulls your waist against him, clashing your bodies together. You submit completely into his touch, growing impatient as the feeling of his member becomes more and more prominent on your thigh.

Lifting you up, you wrap your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. He turns around and starts to walk towards the bed laying you down, resting in between your open legs as you continue your rough make out.

Both hands start to travel up your shirt, slowly lifting it to see how you would react, “can I?” He breaths, breaking away from your lips for only a second. As soon as you nod the cloth is discarded from your body and thrown somewhere in the room in one swift movement.

He starts kissing down your jawline, down your neck, and across your collarbone, sucking lightly in places and swirling his tongue on the sensitive skin.

“Baekhyun.” You whimpered impatiently.

He gave your collarbones on last kiss before moving down to your bra. His right hand dug underneath you and unclasped it, removing it as swiftly as your shirt.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He says lightly before taking your right nipple into his mouth. A moan escapes your mouth, arching against him as he uses his hand to need the other. He took your nipple in between his teeth, biting down only slightly so you would get a mixture of both pleasure and sweet pain, earning him a loud moan from you before doing the same to the other.

He starts to move downwards, placing open mouth kisses on your torso, stopping at the hem of your shorts.

He looks up at you for approval, his fingers rubbing up and down your sides, similarly to how he was doing in the lake earlier this morning.

You nod rapidly “Yes, Baek please.”

His long fingers hook in the hem of your shorts, pulling them down your legs, keeping eye contact with you. His hands caress your thighs, opening them so now his face was only inches away from your core.

He smirks up at you, seeing just how badly you want him by the pool of wetness showing through your panties. You squirm at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your clit.

“So wet. Is this all for me?” He smirks while pulling your panties down your legs.You whimper an almost silent yes, anticipating his next move.
He kisses your inner thighs, giving them small bites occasionally, marking you. He licks your outer lips up and down, never coming in contact with where you need him most.

“Baekhyun,” you pant “stop teasing, please.” lifting your hips in the slightest.

His deep laugh radiates through you “so needy.”

You sit up on your elbows, eyes fluttering shut when he finally gives your nub a small kiss, licking a stripe from your slit up, sweeping his tongue side to side as he reaches your clit.

You moan, hips bucking up to meet his face. He smirks up at you before wrapping his hands around your thighs to pin you down. You fall back against the pillow as you feel his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Moans and Baekhyun’s name tumble out of your mouth, eyes squeezed shut feeling only the pleasure his mouth is bringing you while grabbing a fist full of his hair, earning you a deep groan from him.

He adds a finger, entering it half way before pulling it out again. You whine, looking down at him, eyes pleading for him to stop teasing. He complies by entering his long finger, curling it immediately to hit your spot.
You gasp at the pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he adds a second digit. His fingers work fast, going in and out at a speed that matches with his tongue movements on your clit. Your moans become louder and louder, sweat and euphoria coat your body, feeling a heat begin to rise in your stomach.

“B-Baekhyun I-I-I’m gonna…” you can barely get the words out.
He takes his other hand and spreads your lips wider so your clit is isolated before sucking hard and bringing his tongue down in circles, giving you that last push to cum. Screaming his name, your orgasm rips through you, your body feeling only pure ecstasy. His lips and fingers continue, riding out your orgasm before driving you over the edge.

“Too-too much.” You whimper out, grabbing his hand.

He stops his movements, moving up your body to catch your lips. He sucks and bites down on your lower lip, pulling away slightly. He grabs your leg, wrapping it around his waist so he could press his clothed member against you. You moan into his mouth, feeling how hard he is.

In a sudden moment you hear the familiar click of the front door being unlocked and pushed open.

You both look at each other with panic.

With energy it seems like you harnessed from the sun, you roll off the bed and put on your clothes in light speed.

You turn to Baekhyun while hopping into your shorts “Stay here and pretend like you’re taking a nap.” You whisper.

He gives you a wink and a thumbs up before climbing into bed, turning away from the door.

You walk down the hallway into the living room to see your mom looking down at the mess you and Baekhyun had forgotten to clean last night sitting on the coffee table.

She looks up at you. “Hi sweetheart.” moving towards you to embrace you in a hug.

“Hi mom." You say while trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice as you hug her back, "I thought you guys were gonna stay for the retreat?” You give her the most innocent look you can possibly make.

She smiles, “Yeah, we still are. I just wanted to come and check up on you guys, make sure you’re okay. And I forgot my phone charger here and have been having to use your fathers, so I might as well come get that too.”

“Yeah were doing fine.” Steady your breath y/n. “Baekhyun’s asleep.” You say, giving a fake eye roll.

“Has he lightened up? You know, since we left?” The concern in her protruding through her smile, “I’m sorry, I know you two really don’t get along.”

"Yeah yeah don’t worry Mom, he’s gotten a lot friendlier.”

________________________________________________________________

Authors note: AH THANK YOU FOR READING! Don’t forget to leave requests, comments, your critique, etc., in my ask box/submission box ❤❤❤.

Stay tuned for part 4, It might get a little spicier ;)

3

Summary:

Dean and Y/N share a bed in a motel and Dean has a dream about her, mindlessly pulling her into him and peppering he with kisses.

Words: ~2100

Warnings: mention of injuries, FLUFF

A/N:I’m actually really proud of this one even though the introduction is a bit boring. please read until the end and tell me what you think! Also, I really love this cheesy bed sharing fanfictions but it’s different in this imagine. (This theme wasn’t my idea, I saw it somewhere but don’t remember the name anymore…)

×××

Falling in love is so easy that you don’t realise that it is actually happening.

A stupid, cheesy saying that I never really agreed with. I mean, how could you not notice being head over heels because of one person.
Well, I guess I learned it the hard way. Or rather kinda the hard way.

I was used to share a bed with Dean. But it was never the type of bed sharing that was needy and consisted of endless cuddles and realising the love for the other person.
It was never the type of bed sharing that was described in the Dean Winchester fanfictions on the Internet.
Yes, maybe I was interested in the fantasies of the so called “Deangirls”. But that’s not the point.

Back to the topic: Dean and I just laid next to each other, not really caring about the other and simply only wanting to rest after an exhausting day.

So when we entered the motel that only had one room with two normal sized beds left, there wasn’t a nervous fluttering in my stomach. Why should I be nervous?
So when we entered the room that was barely tidied up, there wasn’t a flirty comment from Dean about sharing a bed with his godlike body. Why should he be flirty?

Dean only looked at me briefly when Sam threw his bag on the bed at the window, reassuring our arrangement. I nodded before I headed to the bathroom without a word, feeling cramps in my abdomen.
I tried not to get pissed about my period. The life of a hunter was cursed anyway and my period was actually the pain that was the easiest to endure.

Trying to forget about the pain coming from my stomach and the fresh, deep cut caused by a werewolf, I stepped into the shower. I enjoyed having the warm and clean water covering my body like a sterile blanket and felt better as soon as I changed into my pyjamas which weren’t soaked in my own and werewolf blood.

Leaving the bathroom I saw Sam getting patched up by Dean and I approached them. “How bad is it?”, I wanted to know while I took a closer look on Sam’s neck.

“It’s very deep… but not deep enough to turn him, I guess.”, Dean mumbled, his eyes fixed on his younger brother’s neck.
“I’m fine!”, Sam rolled his eyes but Dean pushed a cloth against his neck making Sam groan in pain. “Yeah, maybe not.”, I chuckled and gave him a smile filled with sympathy.

I sat down on the bed, watching the boys tiredly. “Your turn.”, Dean demanded seriously, but his voice was definitely filled with concern after Sam stood up to have a shower as well.

“I’m fine.”, I rolled my eyes just like Sam did a while ago and Dean scoffed. “Trust me, sweetheart, you’re not. Stop bullshitting me like Sam does.”, Dean said harshly and now it was my turn to scoff.

“How about you shut up and let me rest?!”, I snapped, causing Dean to jump slightly at my sudden change of mood from tired and annoyed to aggressive and dangerous.
“Well, I would if you hadn’t had this huge cut on your tigh! And in case you didn’t notice, if you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of me, I would be the one with the cut.”, Dean replied matter-of-factly with an incredible calm voice while I stood up to face him.
“So it’s my fault now that I’m hurt?”, I yelled, folding my arms in front of my chest.

“Hell yeah, it is!”, he threw his arms in the air, “I could’ve handled this freaking werewolf on my-”
“Hey, guys, lower your voices!”, Sam’s voice interrupted Dean and we both stayed still, glaring at each other.

“Whatever.”, I shrugged with anger in my voice and turned around to finally get some rest.
He didn’t say anything else while I started to go through my stuff, looking for my beautiful, black gun that always had to lay right next to the bed.
I didn’t know what Dean was doing and I honestly didn’t care at the moment. I just wanted to sleep.

I laid down flat on my back on the right half of the bed, leaving the left half to Dean.
I allowed myself a glance at him, sitting at the little table and researching. I could see the tension in his muscles while he propped up his head with his right hand. It didn’t took me very long to feel sorry, my mood changing again.

But before I even had the chance to think about apologizing, Sam entered the room and it was Dean’s turn to have a shower.
I quickly closed my eyes, hoping that Sam wouldn’t ask questions and would leave me alone.

About ten minutes later, I was already zoning out, I felt Dean next to me because of the lowering of the matress due to his weight and of course his shoulder that was pressed against mine.

“I’m sorry.”, I whispered so that only he could hear it before I opened my eyes and turned my eyes to look at him.
“I just wanted to help.”, he murmured, his facial expression tensed telling me that he was still mad at me. Without thinking I took his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers and feeling the tension slowly vanishing.

“I know. I’m just super sensitive at the moment.”, I mumbled, hoping he would get it. But he just looked at me, confused and tired. “I’m… um, it’s just… it’s this time of the month again.”, I explained and his eyes widened slightly before he nodded. “Oh.”

I fell asleep several minutes later with Dean next to me and his fingers between mine, which wasn’t romantic in any way. It was simply platonic
Our relationship was platonic even though Sam said different things I was pretty sure that there wasn’t anything romantic going on between Dean and me.
It was simply platonic.

And I was also not in love with Dean Winchester.

But when I woke up to Dean pulling my small body into him, I did feel a weird feeling in my stomach and it wasn’t my period, that was for sure.
I felt Dean’s strong arms under my head and around my waist while his chest covered my back. “Dean?”, I asked and only got a quiet groan as a reply.

I didn’t remember the reason why I let him sleep, probably because of his lack of sleep. But I did remember how my heart stopped beating for a couple of seconds when I felt his lips on the back of my neck. Warm and soft.

One kiss, then another, then another…

And then, him mumbling my name… I couldn’t move like my body was bewitched while his lips trailed over to my shoulder. “Dean?”, I asked again and I turned around a bit, feeling the grib on my waist tighten and his lips wandering to my neck.

My face was hot. Very hot and probably red like a tomato. Dean groaned again when he started sucking on my neck and I let out a unwanted moan.

I looked over Dean’s shoulder to Sam, panicking and checking wether he was sleeping. He was asleep. Thank god…

Slowly getting calmer, I let Dean kiss me and started to enjoy the feeling of his slightly wet lips on my sensitive skin.
My eyes closed without me wanting it, taking in Dean’s scent which mostly consisted of cheap soap.

I didn’t wanted to admit it but I liked it. The whole situation.
Dean’s scent around me, the warmth coming from him, his strong arms around me and the fact that he was probably dreaming about me while kissing my neck.

“Dean!”, I raised my voice when I got out of my trance and he groaned again.
But this time he finally woke up, his face in the crook of my neck and his arms holding me near him.
In a second, his beautiful face was as red as mine while he let go of me.

Without a word I hurried into the bathroom to go to the toilet and to brush my teeth, wanting to feel clean again.
I quickly brushed my hair without really looking into the mirror.

“I’m going to buy some pie.”, I mumbled before leaving the motel and Dean just nodded, not saying his usual words “That’s my girl.”

When I got back about half an hour later, Dean was packing his stuff and Sam wasn’t in bed anymore. “Where’s-”, I began and Dean answered before I even ended the sentence, “Bathroom.”.

“Here, I already packed your stuff. I hope you don’t mind ‘cause of your… Nevermind.”, he mumbled while he handed me my backbag. We stood still for a moment, his incredibly green eyes wandering to my neck and staying there. He cleared his throat before he looked at me again and then continued, “Sam said that we should wait in the car.”

After he finished packing everything in his back we went over to the Impala where I remembered the pie in my plastic bag that I totally forgot surprisingly.
“That’s for you by the way.”, I told Dean as he leaned against his car.

His green eyes lit up at my words while his smile widened. “You’re the best.”, he grinned at me, not even looking at the pie I gave him. He also took my bag out of my hand to put it and the pie on the back seat.

And before I knew it, his lips were on mine. Not on my back, not on my shoulder, not on my neck. No, they met my lips and slowly moved, filling me up with excitement. His right hand wandered up to caress my cheek while his nose brushed against mine.

I knew that it was definitely too late now. And maybe I even knew that already in the morning. There was no point of trying to hide it from myself.

I was in love with him.
And I let myself melt into his body, my hands roaming up over his body while his arms wrapped around my back to lift me up. I laughed against his while I folded my arms behind his head and deepened the kiss.

A few moments later Sam appeared put of nowhere and cleared his throat. Dean and I separated quickly but kept close. And of course, he had to comment what he saw, “Told you she would let you kiss her.”

After Sam sat in the car, I saw Dean still smirking at me. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if Sam hadn’t told me about you letting me kiss you this morning.”
“What? I thought he was asleep!”, i exclaimed, making him chuckle and pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry by the way. I didn’t know that… well, I was dreaming that you and I…”, he whispered, his lips brushing over my ear.
“It’s fine. I mean, I can’t complain. And sharing a bed with you is always fun. It never hurts to have such a gorgeous sleeping beauty next to me.”, I mumbled into his shoulder before he pulled himself back to lock into my eyes.

He smiled at me a few seconds before he leaned down to kiss me again. With a quick movement he turned us, my back hitting the Impala when his hips pressed me against his car. There wasn’t much time before this kiss escalated. His tongue tracing over my lower lip, causing my knees to get weak and my body to melt even more into him.

We were interrupted by Sam, his knuckles knocked against the half-open window. “Honestly, you lovebirds, we have work to do.”, he laughed and Dean groaned loadly when we parted, my head instinctively following his.

He looked down at me sweetly, his eyes not even fully opened and he pecked my lips again before he pressed a kiss on my fore head.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”, he sighed quietly before he let go of me and we got into the car.

Sam just smirked at Dean and then turned around to look at me, smirking at me as well while Dean was concentrated on the road.
“Nice hickey you got there.”, Sam mentioned and my eyes instantly widened as my hand reached up to my neck.

As soon as I locked into the mirror I saw Dean staring at me. Then he winked, making my face heat up but a smile formed on my lips.

This was the beginning of something new. Something different.
And I was really happy about Dean dreaming about me and also Sam not being awake.

applications for uk universities are coming up in a few months, so i figured i should post the tips i have collected from when i applied (since they’re all just sitting in a word document gathering dust), particularly for the personal statement! we had a talk from an admissions tutor who told us most of the stuff below + i attended 6 open days and picked up a fair few bits along the way (some stuff might be more relevant to sciences/physics)

the personal statement: what??

  • your personal statement is likely your only opportunity to try and ‘sell yourself’ to universities since most courses at most universities don’t interview
  • you send the same one to all your unis (even if you apply to different courses!)
  • 4000 characters and 47 lines limit (you’ll probably hit the line limit first - keep copying and pasting it into UCAS to check this since it’ll probably be a little different to your word processors count). the average is about 500 words

example structure

  • 80% academic, 20% extracurricular is generally a good guide
  • paragraph 1, intro: personal trigger for your interest in the subject you’re applying for! (not just ‘i’ve always been good at it/liked it’) - how your subject relates to society/current affairs if applicable and relevant (you’ll be seeing that word a lot). what aspects of the courses you’re looking forwards to (but don’t accidentally refer to something not done at all your choices) - prove that you know what you’re getting into
  • paragraph 2: what have you done to develop your interest? trips, books, wider reading - both in and out of school/college. link it to your subject! work experience, relevant volunteering. career aspirations - if you have one, put it in! it’s not set in stone just because you wrote it in a personal statement. part time job - skills gained (again, relevant ones), not just facts.
  • e.g. i worked in housekeeping part time => work under time pressure to a high standard and working effectively as part of a team
  • paragraph 3: non academic achievements e.g. duke of edinburgh - again, skills gained. if you’re doing a gap year, why/what are you doing etc - benefits?
  • paragraph 4, summary: short, just a few lines. final impression. recap - this should answer “why do you want to go to university and study your course” and “why do you deserve to be offered a place”. relevant to course - make reference to course choice/area, not generic. career aspirations are good to mention here. can keep it vague-ish for multiple courses, but course area should be clear!
  • this is just an example containing most of the stuff that should be in it - how you break it up doesn’t matter too much as long as it does have a structure (remember line breaks will influence your character/line count!)

good words/phrases

  • rewarding, improved, interested, taking part, reinforced, gained, strengthen, in addition, developed, broadening, hard work, commitment, enhanced, thrive under pressure

long list of advice

  • be concise - characters are limited and you have a lot to say
  • be honest - lying is a. unnecessary and b. will probably come out later
  • remember the person receiving this probably reads thousands, try and keep it interesting
  • organised & structured!
  • persuade the reader that you deserve a place
  • avoid generic statements - everything must be relevant. as much as they may be true, things like “i achieved good grades/always enjoyed this subject previously” are obvious fillers.
  • imagine this is your interview - as i said, you probably won’t get a real one! why do you want to study this, what makes you the right person for this course.
  • DO NOT LIST. don’t do it. expand on everything you put down, make it relevant - what your experiences are isn’t important, what you got from them is.
  • spelling and grammar. check it, check it, check it again - and this must be done by a human, spell checkers don’t notice if you use the wrong word (it’s best to go with a teacher or parent, something like that, not other students or people on the internet - be very careful about sending your personal statement to people online).
  • don’t talk about things that belong in other sections - e.g. how good your grades are (they can already see these), extenuating circumstances (should be explained by your referee in the reference). repeating yourself makes you look desperate to fill space.
  • avoid ambiguity - explain yourself! e.g. ‘i did my gold award’ - in what?!
  • authentic - don’t be pretentious
  • avoid being generic
  • ‘i’m looking forward to having an experience to remember for the rest of my life’ it lasts 3+ years; you’re going to remember it. don’t say it.
  • ‘looking forwards to independence’ - very rarely a choice when you go to uni. virtually everyone else is in the exact same situation here. don’t waste characters on things that aren’t relevant or really important.
  • ‘my family…’ they do not care about your family, they care about you. it is about you.
  • avoid cliches
  • add comments, views and explanations to your points - pretend it’s an english essay or something - making a point by itself gets you no marks
  • use your own experiences - you will have enough, don’t make it up.
  • ‘i’m quite good’ - avoid neutral or passive terms to describe yourself. be positive and show off that you do have these skills!
  • similarly don’t be uncertain - ‘i usually meet deadlines’ is pretty unconvincing
  • don’t play things down!
  • do your research - know which modules you will study in your courses so you can keep things relevant. talk about things you are particularly excited about and why.
  • what have you done outside of the a level course requirements?
  • obviously, don’t mention any of your unis by name or location (or course if they vary)
  • avoid humour: when someone makes a joke in front of a large audience, if they didn’t come to see them make jokes you will notice that maybe half laugh. you don’t know which half the person reading your personal statement will fall into. don’t do it.
  • make connections between interests and courses
  • draft and redraft and redraft until it’s perfect… and then check it over a few more times!
  • … but don’t let the people who check it over for you rewrite it! this must be your personal statement if you want to get anywhere
  • it’s run through sophisticated plagiarism/similarity software by UCAS. don’t write with a friend, don’t get one off the internet.

hopefully some of this helps someone out there, good luck!

The Perfect Blind Date - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 10,822

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), Multiple Orgasm, Public Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Morning Sex, Shirtless Dylan at the beach, Dylan on a motorcycle, slight shade coming from me towards my ex

Notes: So, @ninja-stiles an I were talking on day and we were sharing these motorcycle pictures of Dylan and Chris and we’re like “OMG WE SHOULD WRITE ABOUT THIS!” So, I wrote the Dylan side while she did the Chris side. The two fics are linked in plot but different in character and execution. So make sure to give hers a read as well! Also, this is slightly AU. Dylan is not famous here. Let him be a normal guy for a day y’all.

(As a note, her internet was being shitty today so I will post a link here as soon as she gets hers up! But still read hers once it is up because it is so good)

It’s hard to want to date when so many bad things have happened to you. One wrong turn in a relationship, and everything comes crashing down. Once that happens, why would you want to get back out there? You worry that the same thing will happen again, or that you won’t find the great guy you wish will sweep you off your feet the way you always imagine it.

Well, welcome to my life, honey.

Keep reading

Flashes (Part 1)

Summary: Soulmate AU. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” - William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,783

Warnings: language, fluff, wishful thinking, angst, sadness, borderline depression, sarcasm, did I mention language? might be hard to read for lonely hearts like me.

A/N: Well, I did it…at least I tried. The lovely @minervaem challenged me (sort of) to do an angsty story, so here we go. I’m warning you now, it’s not gonna be pretty. Anyways, it’s only four parts, so only pre-existing permanent tags will be added to this story. Reminder: If you want to be removed from the permanent tag list you need to msg me! Sorry in advance. There’s four parts to this story.

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

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All My Hope; Connor Murphy x Reader

Word Count: 11,349 (whoa boy)

A/N: I’m going to warn you that this is some really TERRIBLE WRITING. In the words of Jared Kleinman: “This isn’t realistic at all, it doesn’t even sound like Connor.” I’ve been working on it for days and I’m glad to be done with it. It’s like a huge breath of relief. I tried to proof-read this to the best of my ability but there might be mistakes! Sorry! Also, I take no credit for the two poems in this story, I did not write either of them. 

Summary: Instead of running into Evan in the computer lab, Connor runs into you. He finds your letter on the printer and panics when you aren’t in school the next day. 

Warnings: MENTIONS OF DEATH/SUICIDE ATTEMPT (PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION IF YOU CHOOSE TO READ) Swearing, Really poor writing

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2

Kissing Dean Winchester

Characters: Jensen x Reader (Stay with me, you’ll see)

Warnings: fluff, drinking

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This just popped into my head. I don’t know where it came from. I’ve written this trope a lot, but this time it has a little different twist on it. Hope you enjoy. :)

Feedback Appreciated

Tags at the bottom

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There are mouse traps in the Fake AH Crew’s penthouse. Old school, spring loaded mousetraps right out of a cartoon. It takes everyone a while to see them, and even then no one really takes much notice; there’s nothing particularly abnormal about mousetraps after all. Except that the penthouse has never had mice. Except that for all they are bloodthirsty criminals no one in the crew really has the stomach to crush a rodent to death; the Lads short lived plan to keep a pet snake to terrify Geoff ended not because the man in question caught them but instead because none were willing to handle feeding the bloody thing.

So the traps are weird then. The traps no one uses. The traps no one claims. The traps that seem to be multiplying. Not quickly, slow enough to slide under the radar, but month by month the boxes grow until suddenly one of the spare rooms is completely filled.

Which, understandably, is noticed. Geoff calls a meeting and the crew wastes an afternoon squabbling over who and how and why but nothing is resolved. Everyone knows it must be a trap of some sort, someone setting up for a prank or a hilarious stunt, and no one wants to be the target. The culprit does not identify themselves, and there’s more than enough secondhand glee and trepidation going around to muddy the waters and keep the guilty party unknown.

No one is prepared to brave removing the mousetraps themselves, unsure if some trap will be sprung simply by entering the room, so the boxes remain. It’s an uneasy sort of acceptance, no member of the crew wanting to complain and single themselves out, so the threat lays dormant long enough that everyone has to move on, has to stop actively wondering. Even subconsciously they still pass the room gingerly, cautious, but as the months go by and the bedroom remains closed the fact that the boxes continue to multiply is pushed out of mind.

And then Dan flies over to pay Gavin a visit. As usual he’s greeted with a celebration, drink in hand before he’s through the front door; the first of many as the night predictably devolves into something raucous and messy and seamlessly fond. It’s late by the time the teasing and story telling dies down, by the time Dan finally trudges up the hall with his bag, so it takes the crew a moment too long to remember that Dan’s usual room was already occupied. They thunder down the hall just in time to see - nothing. The boxes are gone, the room is immaculate, like nothing strange has been growing there for almost a year, like the crew’s fears were entirely unfounded.

Or so they think, until dawn breaks with Dan screaming the house down, waking everyone up way too early as they scramble to arm themselves and drag their hungover bodies towards the apparent fight taking place in the living room. The fight between Dan and what turns out to be literally thousands of mousetraps, laid out in concentric circles around the main room ready to catch Dan on his usual jetlag-early, half-awake stumble to kitchen.

The culprit would be obvious even without Gavin’s distinctive squeaking giggles ratting him out, perched on the kitchen counter and filming the whole scene on his phone, the areas around him lined with its own little wall of still-loaded mouse traps. Unfortunately, regardless of whatever protection Gavin thought they would buy him, Dan charges right through to tackle him screeching to the ground anyway.

The video winds up on youtube, because of course it does; Gavin is an asshole and sees no reason why the whole world shouldn’t enjoy his endless efforts to torture Dan. By the time Gavin gets the video together, including a time lapse of the set up, various angles from a handful of go pros placed strategically around the room, a slow mo replay of the dawning horror on Dan’s face as the traps go off and the angry bodyslam to close it out, it has all the elements of an excellent video. So of course it goes viral; passed around the internet at lightning speed, shown on various news programs, racking up millions of views before the day is over.

It doesn’t take long for the internet to point out the handful of infamous criminal lookalikes edging into frame at the end, obviously too soft and rumpled and hopelessly entertained to be the real deal, but still a funny comparison all the same. Even more amusing when the blurry footage almost makes them look armed, so-called guns a startling juxtaposition against the silly prank and cutesy patterned pyjamas everyone seems to be wearing. Combined with the obvious opulence of the room, and the kind of cash it must take to buy so many mousetraps just for a stunt, there is no shortage of people joking about the video being a candid episode of MTV Cribs featuring the Fake AH Crew.  

anonymous asked:

Hello, I love your blog! In a few months I'll be moving to a new city for a new job. I've moved around before, but I've always moved with family members (which makes it easier I think) and this will be my first time living completely alone in a new place. I'm also a bit of an introvert and can have a hard time finding friends. Do you have any tips on making this transition a bit smoother and staying social? Thank you!

Living On Your Own (For the First Time)

1. PKW. Phone, keys, wallet. Every time you go anywhere. Check twice. The worst part of living on your own is having to rely on yourself to never forget to lock yourself out or leave your wallet at a sandwich shop in a mall. Make absolutely sure you have duplicates of your keys (I would get a couple made) and give one to a friend who lives nearby who you can count on. I also like to keep an extra set inside the apartment itself in a secure place, just in case. Your landlord can let you in during office hours, but giving a key to a trustworthy friend helps you 24/7.

2. Cleaning routine. You don’t have to sit down at a writing desk and draft this out, but spend a few minutes coming up with a basic cleaning regime for you to follow. It’s definitely easier to do a little each day, but if that doesn’t work for your schedule set aside at least an hour and a half during your time off to get your apartment spotless. I don’t know about you, but whenever I deep clean my apartment I feel like I’m living in a hotel for a day, and I absolutely love it.

3. Make a “moving” shopping list. This is everything you will need (minus food) for your first week at your new place. First aid kit, cleaning supplies, tape, cat food, etc. Your first week moving into your new place will be stressful enough, you don’t want to be halfway through setting up your living room and realize that you forgot to buy trash bags.

4. Secure yourself. I’m not the most agile or fast person in the world, and I do live in a mid-sized city that has a good deal of crime. The apartment complex I live in is very safe, but I still like to double lock my front door at night. It might be smart to keep some pepper spray or a baseball bat somewhere in your apartment, just in case.

5. Stay social. Even the most anti-social person gets lonely. Make sure to hang out with your friends, not just your co-workers, your actual friends. Get out off your apartment every few days and go see a movie, get a cup of coffee, go people watching at the park, etc. It’s easy to get depressed if you’re living alone and doing the same things the same way every day- allow yourself to mix it up.

6. Meal prep. It can be stressful and seem useless to cook complicated or “fancy” meals when you’re living on your own. Plan your meals for the week and make a list before going shopping. Get yourself enough food to make a variety of dinners that will only take you fifteen minutes. If you do want to go crazy and make steak and mashed potatoes for yourself, make enough for two meals. Also, nobody is going to think poorly of you for stocking your fridge with a couple frozen dinners.

7. Customer service. Living alone means that you are going to be doing a lot of talking to customer service representatives. Get comfortable talking to people over the phone. Tell the rep what you need as quickly as you can, and try to be polite because customer service at a phone center is a garbage job that doesn’t pay well. On the flip side, don’t be afraid to ask for a manager if you’re upset or unhappy with your service. Take their survey at the end of your phone call, tell them how unhappy you are. It’s someone’s shitty job to look at all those surveys, no complaint goes unheard. Companies with great phone service: Verizon, Apple, Amazon. Companies with awful phone service: USPS (literally the worst), electric companies, health insurance companies.

8. Guest space. This is not required, but it’s a good idea to have some sort of space for a friend to stay the night. A friend of mine had a bad breakup, showed up at my apartment with ten minute’s notice, and then fell asleep on my couch after an hour of crying. It as 7:30! Whatever, she needed it. Keep an extra blanket and pillow in your closet, I like to keep travel sized shampoos and conditioners in my bathroom cabinet on the off chance a guest wants to use my shower. I got these at a hotel for free, but they’re available at CVS and other pharmacies.

9. Toilet paper. Don’t let yourself run out of toilet paper! I like to buy more when I notice I only have one roll left. The same deal goes for paper towels.

10. Enjoy. Living on your own is simoltaneously exciting and exhausting, but an all around must-have experience. Enjoy the freedom to forget to make the bed, to decorate your bathroom however you want, to have ice cream for dinner, to watch reruns of Friends and cry when Rachel decides to move to France. Make sure to give yourself lots of space to move at your own pace, but please remember to eat three meals a day and to go to the doctor’s for a checkup at least once a year!

Making Friends

First things first- we as humans are social creatures. We seek out social interaction, even the most antisocial person in the world still needs the occasional stimulating conversation. Don’t stress about making friends, it’ll happen one way or another.

The best friendships are created organically, but that said, there are some things you can do to quicken the process.

1. Friends by proximity.  Be social and inquisitive when meeting your new co-workers and that openness will help you create fast friendships. Ask lots of questions, people love it when you ask them lots of questions about things. Remember elementary school? Remember how easy it was to make friends then? You’ve got this.

2. Places. Hang out at places that you would normally hang out with your friends. Scope out cool bookstores and cozy coffeeshops, and be on the lookout for similar-minded people. Find reasons to talk to these strangers, whether that means asking them for directions, what they’re drinking, etc. The next time you run into them, you’ll be able to start up a conversation.

3. Events. One of the quickest ways to make lots of new friends is to join a group that meets weekly that does something that’s important to you. This could be anything from a book club, to a Dungeons and Dragons game, to volunteer work. Go to your local library and read the bulletin board looking for groups that interest you. You may have to get on the internet to find something close by. At the very least you’ll have a weekly social event to go to where you won’t feel out of place.

4. Neighborly. This next one depends on you, but if you have cool looking new neighbors introduce yourselves to them. Hit them up at random and say something casual like “I was going to go out for a drink, wanna join?” Planning things in advance puts pressure on acquaintances, so try to be spontaneous.

If any of my followers have any ideas, please chime in! And good luck!

You know where the veil between worlds is truly thin? 1990′s - early 2000′s documentary programs

There are a lot of posts about liminal spaces and to be fair they’re a fascinating concept, but while highway rest stops are a good example, I feel we are all missing a great deal by not exploring the liminal dimensions present in made-for-tv documentaries from the 1990′s and early 2000′s.

For Instance:

When I was a child, my bed time was 8:00. Unfortunately for me, the weekly program about dinosaurs I wanted to watch on.. the Discovery Channel I think it was(?) happened at 9:00. My mom would tape them for me every week, because VHS was still a thing back then.

Eventually however, the series ended without either of us noticing. She taped the timeslot anyway and gave it to me to watch the next afternoon, like usual, which is how I, a 7 or 8 year old child, ended up watching a half-hour long program about people who had died by spontaneous human combustion.

I watched, enraptured, as the program explored the puzzling and horrific cases of people who, for seemingly no reason, had burst into intensely hot flames which reduced them to mere ashes, with no discernible source of ignition and which left nearby flammables curiously untouched. “Could this happen to anyone? Could this happen to you?” the program asked me, flashing yet another grisly black and white photograph of an incinerated body across the screen. “Yes, and I must fear it” I thought in reply, and continued to think about constantly for the next several years.

In time though, I forgot. Until my friend Paloma recommended me some short stories she had read for one of her classes, because I needed some new reading material for the train to class. One of them was about a character whose parents had died by SHC (Blowing Up on the Spot by Kevin Wilson). Suddenly, I remembered.

“I have to find this program,” I thought. “There must be a reason I have this specific, persistent fear, and for some reason I bet watching it again will make it less awful,” I continued, because I am an idiot and I don’t know what’s good for me.

After hours of scouring the internet, I have found exactly one copy of this show that so scarred me. It has subtitles in Greek, the audio unsyncs from the narrator’s lips and becomes steadily fuzzier as the video goes on until it is nearly indecipherable, and searching the actual name of the show yields not even a Wikipedia article. A few sites have episode lists but that’s about it, and those with dates list them all as being released on the same day in 2009, so I am forced to conclude that no one knows when these programs came into existence. They seem to exist in neither this time nor space, and attempts to keep them tied to this dimension result in warping of sound and language.

They are trying to escape, and after rewatching this awful barrage of burned bodies and early 2000s CGI simulations of people on fire, I think we should let them. The veil is thin between universes which are so close to touching as to allow hints of passage. These are moving away from us. Let them go.

This is the final vestige of a world not our own. (tw for fairly graphic images of dead bodies, I am serious here)

anonymous asked:

Hi^^ wow the stories are really good, i really enjoy itㅠㅠ can i requst too? A session in the class, you as a student and wonwoo as a teacher. I seriously cant get over him with that glasses omg he looks smart yet hot :""""

I might have overdone the build-up a little BUT I FELT LIKE THIS NEEDED IT. also I agree with Wonwoo in glasses omg now that is a look!

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 5,033 words


”W-Wonwoo, ah–”

As your alarm started ringing, your eyes shot wide open, and you were immediately painfully aware of the wetness pooling between your legs as well as the dream you had just had, and the memory only increased the heat in the pit of your stomach, and you winced when you got out of your bed.

“I can’t believe I just,” you mumbled, half-asleep, while turning your alarm off, the pulsation of your pussy clouding your thoughts. You swallowed, trying to think about everything but the dream you had just woken up from. Shivering, you shook your head. “Thank god I don’t have his lessons today.”

You went on about your morning as per usual, but you were unable to get your thoughts off the handsome - hot, actually - substitute teacher who had been teaching you literature for the past three months and would continue until the end of the school year, which was still a few months away.

From early on you had found him attractive, with his sharp eyes and rare yet incredibly cute smile, and it hardly helped that he was fairly young, too, and treated each of his students kindly. Sure, you had played with different lewd thoughts before, but you could never have even thought that you’d one day see a wet dream about him.

The worst part was that you weren’t bothered by it, really, and were instead mostly frustrated because the dream was so damn good and left you annoyingly horny: not even a cool shower before heading to school eased it.

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