sighs i hope i posted this right

I’ve been contemplating for several days something, and I’ve been trying to distill it into meaning, and put nice little bullet points on how this relates to things that have been bugging me about some common Discourses I’ve been seeing, but at the end, I only really have a story. So here, have a story.

About ten years ago, sometime in the eventful 2006-2007 George W. Bush-ruled hellscape of my identity development, I was just starting to figure out how I felt about my conservative upbringing (not great) and whether I was some brand of queer (probably, but too scared to think about what brand for too long). I was working as a server at a popular Italian-inspired sit-down restaurant that was the closest thing my tiny South Carolinian town had to “fancy” at the time but isn’t really fancy at all.

The host brought a party of four men to one of my tables. It was hard to tell their ages, but my guess is they were teenagers or in their early 20s in the 1980s. Mid-40s, at the time. It was standard to ask if anyone at the table was celebrating anything, so I did. They said they were business partners celebrating a great business deal and would like a bottle of wine.

It was a fairly busy night so I didn’t have a LOT of time to spend at their table, but they were nice guys. They were polite and friendly to me, they didn’t hit on me (as most men were prone to do – sometimes even in front of their girlfriends, a story I’ll tell later if anyone wants me to), and they were racking up a hell of a tab that was going to make my managers happy, so I checked on them as often as I could.

Toward the end of their second bottle of wine, as they were finishing their entrees, I stopped at the table and asked if they wanted any more drinks or dessert or coffee. They were well and truly tipsy by now, giggling, leaning back in their chairs – but so, so careful not to touch each other when anyone was near the table.

They’re all on the fence about dessert, so being a good server, I offered to bring out the dessert menu so they could glance it over and make a decision, “Since you’re celebrating.”

“She’s right!” one of the men said, far too emphatically for a conversation on dessert. “It’s your anniversary! You should get dessert!”

It was like a movie. The whole table went absolutely silent. The clank of silverware at the next table sounded supernaturally loud. Dean Martin warbled “That’s Amore” in some distorted alternate universe where the rest of the restaurant went on acting like this one tipsy man hadn’t just shattered their carefully crafted cover story and blurted out in the middle of a tiny, South Carolina town, surrounded by conservatives and rednecks, that they were gay men celebrating a relationship milestone. 

And I didn’t know what I was yet, but I knew I wasn’t an asshole, and I knew these men were family, and I felt their panic like a monster breathing down all our necks. It’s impossible to emphasize how palpably terrified they were, and how justified their terror was, and how much I wanted them to be happy.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I said, “Congratulations! How many years?”

The man who’d spoken up burst into tears. His partner stood up and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug I’ve ever had – and I’ve never liked being touched by strangers, but this was different, and I hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, halfway to crying himself. “Thank you so much.”

When he finally let go of me and sat back down, they finally got around to telling me they were, in fact, two couples on a double date, and both celebrating anniversaries. Fifteen years for one of them, I think, and a few years off for the other. It’s hard to remember. It was a jumble of tears and laughter and trembling relief for all of us. They got more relaxed. They started holding hands – under the table, out of sight of anyone but me, but happy.

They did get dessert, and I spent more time at their table, letting them tell me stories about how they met and how they started dating and their lives together, and feeling this odd sense of belonging, like I’d just discovered a missing branch of my family.

When they finally left, all four of them took turns standing up and hugging me, and all four of them reached into their wallets to tip me. I tried to wave them off but they insisted, and the first man who’d hugged me handed me forty dollars and said, “Please. You are an angel. Please take this.”

After they left I hid in the bathroom and cried because I couldn’t process all my thoughts and feelings.

Fast forward to three days ago, when my own partner and I showed up to a dinner reservation at a fancy-casual restaurant to celebrate our fifth anniversary. The whole time I was getting ready to leave, there was a worry in the back of my mind. The internet web form had asked if the reservation was celebrating anything in particular, and I’d selected “Anniversary.” I stood in the bathroom blow-drying my hair, wondering what I would do if we showed up, two women, and the host or the server took one look at us and the “Anniversary” designation on our reservation and refused to serve us. It’s not as ubiquitous anymore, but we’re still in the south, and these things still happen. Eight years of progressive leadership is over, and we’ve got another conservative despot in office who’s emboldening assholes everywhere.

It was on my mind the whole fifteen minutes it took to drive there. I didn’t mention it to my partner because I didn’t want to cast a shadow over the occasion. More than that, I didn’t want to jinx us, superstitious bastard that I am.

We walked into the restaurant. I told the hostess we had a reservation, gave her my last name.

She looked at her screen, then looked back at us. She smiled, broadly and genuinely, and said, “Happy anniversary! Your table is right this way.”

Our server greeted us, said, “I heard you were celebrating!”

“It’s our anniversary,” Kellie said, and our server gasped, beaming.

“That’s great! Congratulations! How many years?”

And I finally breathed a sigh of relief, and I thought about those men at that restaurant ten years ago. I hope they’re still safe and happy, and I hope we all get the satisfaction of helping the world keep blooming into something that’s not so unrelentingly terrible all the time.


Recently I’ve decided to start writing down some of my most common thoughts. Here they are.

  • “Okay, how do I people?” *tries to people* “Nope that’s not it.”
  • “I need to be less salty.” *does something salty* “Nevermind.”
  • “Make one more ignorant statement bitch, I double dare you.“
  • *walks into chemistry class* *sighs in relief* “Finally.”
  • “That’s not logical.”
  • “It doesn’t matter how powerful you are. If you’re ignorant, I won’t follow your orders.”
  • “I hope my face doesn’t look like murder right now.”
  • “I don’t need affection.” *someone I care about shows me affection* “Oooh my goodness…”
  • “How can I criticise this?”
  • “How can I improve this?”
  • *wakes up from daydream* “How long has it been…?”.
  • “How can I be more sarcastic?”
  • “How do I show them I care without them knowing that I care?”
  • “Well that was… redundant.”
  • “Too. Many. People.”

Ok, guys, so you know how people like to make those posts where they like to make fun of Polish? Like they’ll pick a word and it’ll be pretty much the same in every slavic language exCEPT PoLIsH

Well, Romanian is Polish for romance languages. Let me show you:


Spanish: guerra

Portuguese: guerra

French: guerre

Italian: guerra

Catalan: guerra

Romanian: …

Romanian: război…


Spanish: tierra

Portuguese: terra

French: terre

Italian: terra

Catalan: terra

Romanian: uhh….

Romanian: pământ..


Spanish: mitad

Portuguese: metade

French: moitié

Italian:  metà

Catalan: meitat

Romanian: … *sigh* ….

Romanian: jumătate…

duly noted || m.yg

Originally posted by seokjins-wings

Summary: He finally understood how much you meant to him

Genre: Slight angst, Lots of fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Words: 490

A/N: I hope that this was what you had wanted.

Keep reading

YOI - Barcelona

This is Part 1; Part 2 is here 

I know this has been done before, but I wanted to do it too. So here’s my pilgrimage to Barcelona. The trip was not without its hiccups, as you will see, but for the most part, I think I covered the hot spots: 

1. The hotel. By now, I think we all know which hotel they stayed at. Let’s start at the top. The pool had nice views at night, but was very cold.❄️☃️ I can only imagine what it was like in December. What were Viktor and Chris thinking???

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do an older!pidge x fem!reader where they get caught making out?

After so many years of fighting, quiet moments were cherished on the Castle. The inhabitants crept off to their private corners, needing alone time after so much time spent together. Well- not always alone.

You tug Pidge into your empty room, a playful and relieved smile on your face. She returns it, rolling her eyes a bit at the way you tried to sneak. You stuck your tongue out at her briefly, and she darted forward to kiss you.

You both laugh as you stumble onto the bed, your hands resting on her waist as she cups your face. Her hair- longer now than it was when you met- falls to the side and tickles your cheeks. Your nose wrinkles, and you shift until the two of you flip. Pidge snorts, shaking her head up at you.


“Seriously. Your hair tickles.” You hum back, settling your weight onto her stomach. You grin when she makes a face at you, then go back to kissing her.

You let your hands wander, Pidge in a lenient mood. The restless, constant touch would normally make her a bit snippish, but currently she was very receptive to it. The amount of smiling the two of you did made it hard to kiss.

So you buried your face against her neck, pressing a few quick kisses there. 

“(Y/N)? Are you in here? I’m looking for-” 

You lift your head, staring at the now open door. The occupied doorway. Hunk stared back at you, then his gaze flicked down to land on Pidge. 

“Oh. Pidge. There you are.”

“I’m busy, Hunk.” Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer. “I was going to do stuff.”

You open your mouth and he holds up a hand. “-and you’re stuff. I get it. Still, Pidge, I needed your help with one of the modifications.”

“Right now?”

“Sooner is better than later.”

You bend down and kiss her grumbles away. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

Pidge scowled, sighed, and gave you another kiss before wriggling out from under you. Once upright she fixed Hunk with a pointed look. “Make this fast.”

listen this is my favorite text post im sorry. hope this is alright

I’ll Be Here

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Request from anon! After dealing with a bad day due to your anxiety, Steve is there right when you need him.

A/N: Requests are open! I may or may not be writing a Peter Parker one shot that I hope to post on Sunday….

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed. “Nothing.”

You knew that he wouldn’t buy that. “You and I both know we’ll be here forever going back and forth, so just tell me the truth.”

“I’m just not having a good day, okay?”

Suddenly you felt the mattress sink from weight coming from the other side. Then two arms snaked around you, pulling you back until it was pressed comfortably against a chest. You sighed again, this time out of comfort instead of stress.

Keep reading

me @ Oda after reading about Pudding in Chapter 862:

i’ve already written about how i had hoped things could’ve gone down with Pudding during the wedding in this post, and i’m not disappointed because things didn’t go the way as i hoped… i’m mostly disappointed due to the fact that Oda has done yet another 180° turn with Pudding’s character, and i feel like that kinda cheapens(?) her character as a whole…

like seriously?? to top it all off, her backstory now just seems like a really desperate attempt to make the readers sympathize with Pudding once more 😒 

Tiny Dancer Part 2

“So what Ron? It’s just a picture.”

Betty scrubbed roughly at the pots and pans filling the tiny sink in their joint kitchen. Veronica had been trailing Betty all afternoon, desperate to know if Jughead had “slid into her dms”

“Just a picture? Just a picture?! Are you crazy? He called you his muse. Jughead “I lock myself in my room for hours on end” Jones posted a picture of YOU on his Instagram and he called you his muse. How can you not be freaking out right now?!“

Playfully flinging soap bubbles towards Veronica, the blonde ballerina just sighed.
"I don’t have time to get my hopes up Ronnie. Maybe you haven’t noticed but boys don’t like me. I’m like some kind of boy repellant. I know I’m intimidating and Ballet comes before anything else but it would be nice to have someone look at me with even the slightest bit of interest.”

Veronica nearly crawled over the four foot counter counter as she wrapped her arms around her best friend
“You’re beautiful B, and determined and funny and smart and you’re the most talented human I’ve ever met in my life. Any of those guys would be lucky to have you.” Betty smiled softly at Veronica when she pulled away.

“Thanks V”

Veronica waved a careless hand
“Back to the topic at hand. This boy is definitely interested. Archie told me he was stalking your Instagram alll night. He’s a photographer ya know. Don’t get me wrong he’s totally weird, like probably the weirdest guy I’ve ever met but you’re weird too, so honestly it might work.”

Faking indignation, Betty gasped and whacked Veronica square in the face with a dish towel.

“I’m not saying I’m not interested I’m just saying… I’m not making the first move. You know how busy I am, I’d hate to pull someone into that.”

Veronica grinned mischievously, throwing the dish towel back on the sink.
“ well than we’ll just have to have Jughead make the first move.”

Betty whipped back around, the fact that she could make even the most average moves look dainty and graceful always amazed Veronica.
“Don’t get involved. I don’t want you playing Cupid, that always ends up making things messy. I have to head out to the studio apparently madame Lavoux booked me out for three hours solo. Like a full show last night and 14 hour rehearsal on Thursday isn’t enoUgh.” Betty gripped her duffel and and hauled it over her shoulder, blowing a kiss to Veronica as she left the dorm room.

The raven haired princess pulled out her cellphone and hit the ALL too familiar number of her boyfriend.
“Oh Betty dear, you are making this far too easy…. Hi Archiekins, I’ve got a plan”

Jughead groaned audibly as he glanced down at the choppy directions his so called best friend had sent him. He was supposed to be meeting Archie here at some building on the Juliard Campus, Veronica had a late rehearsal and Archie wanted to meet up with Jughead for dinner in the dining hall. Archie had a habit of swiping Veronica’s meal card and Juliard definitely had better options than NYU, Jughead never passed up a free meal. Today however Archie wanted to meet ina new building, one Jughead had never been, he’d already gotten lost four times when he finally found the building he was supposed to be at.

“Eddington Dance Hall” Jughead mumbled satisfied. Call him Sacajawea, navigating through this campus was nearly impossible. Walking the halls of the building, it was clear that these studios were closed, why the hell would Archie be in a closed building?

Then he heard it, the soft tempo of some beautifully haunting symphony. Following the music, the dark haired photographer found himself in the doorway of a studio, the dancer inside was most definitely not his red haired best friend, and her beautifully stretched legs were longer than Veronica by quite a bit, but there was something familiar about her, the way her body moved, the graceful tilt of her head, the blonde bun.. suddenly it dawned on him

Betty Cooper.

She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her, dancing in the dull light of the studio, passion flowing through every step. Reaching down to his chest he thanked the lord that his camera was a permanent feature on his body, he never left the house without it and he now knew why. Bringing the lens up to his face he narrowed his eyes and got the perfect shot


The blindingly bright light and click of the shutter had Betty stopping Abruptly, her body whipping towards the disruption as she scrambled for the remote to shut the music off.

Shit, he had forgotten to turn the flash off.

“I’m..Im.. so sorry.. I was just..”
The stuttering boy ran a hand through his messy dark waves, something like recognition flashed in Betty’s eyes.

“It’s.. it’s okay. You’re Jughead Jones right? I know you.. from Instagram.”

Jughead could feel the heavy blush building on his features. Would she be creeped out? God he looked like a stalker now..

“Listen, I’m sorry about that, I should’ve asked. I had no right to post your photo without asking, as for today i promise I’m not stalking you, my friend Archie… he told me to meet him here, I don’t know…”

Betty smiled softly, her dimples nearly sending Jughead to his knees

“It’s okay, I think we’ve both been played. I told Veronica not to get involved, but she’s kind of into playing matchmaker lately. She thinks you like me.. I know it’s silly”

Jughead felt his heart thudding in his chest, the tops of his ears burning red. Did he like her? He didn’t even know her. But there was something… something pulling him towards her. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and her talent was to be taken seriously, but it was something else.. a mutual.. darkness.

Betty noticed the way the handsome boy in front of her seemed to freeze, embarrassed and something else… caught out maybe. She allowed herself to entertain that idea for a moment.

Jughead couldn’t tear his eyes away from her crystal eyes, in a momentary burst of confidence he took a deep breath.

“Well Archie did promise me dinner, all that dancing you must have worked up an appetite. My treat? Well hit up the taco truck by Main Street.”

Jughead watched as the object of his affection chewed her lip hesitantly. Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

Betty finally nodded her head

“Ya know what? Tacos sound great. Let me go grab my bag I’ll be right back.”

Jughead watched as Betty practically leapt away.

Well than …maybe he would find out just what was behind the tutus and buns, and maybe she wouldn’t mind letting him fill his camera with pictures of her hauntingly beautiful eyes

leone27  asked:

22. Kolivance

I saw this ask and was like…”A Lance ship I haven’t written yet? Bring it on!”
Thanks for the ask! I hope you like it ^^

#22 Two miserable people meeting at a wedding AU
Kolivance - Kolivan and Lance
Canon compliant
Sheith, Hunay, NyRolo, Thulaz mentioned

Normally, Lance was the life of the party. Large or small, he enjoyed the merriment and overall jovial feel of social gatherings. He especially liked big, formal affairs. The food was the best, the music was always jamming, and he took such great pleasure in socializing with the other guests.

But as much as Lance loved to flirt, it was all getting very old. First it was Hunk and Shay’s wedding. Then it was Nyma and Rolo’s. And now, sitting with his elbow on the table and his head resting on his fist, he watched as Keith stuffed a huge piece of cake into Shiro’s mouth, smearing the frosting all over his face. Lance sighed.

Always a groomsman, never a groom, he supposed.

He was happy for his friends. He was! It was just…lonely. Everyone was on the dance floor now, having a good time and he was just…tired. Groggily, his gaze drifted to the only other person in the ballroom who looked more miserable than he felt.


The older man was seated a few tables away, looking uncomfortable in his formal wear. He, like the rest of the Blade, seemed more at home in a tactical bodysuit than a tuxedo. But there he was, thick arms crossed over his broad chest, with his eyes on the happy couple, his lips pressed in a tight, thin line.

Lance, unable to leave well enough alone, stood up and made his way over, offering a little wave as he approached. Kolivan glanced up at him and nodded toward the empty seat beside him when Lance gestured toward it.

“You look like you’re having just as much fun as I am,” he commented, eyeing the older man’s profile as he once again turned his gaze on Shiro and Keith.

“I…don’t care for social events,” Kolivan replied, his voice gruff. “I have men patrolling the perimeter, but-”

“Can’t turn it off, can you?” Lance asked, catching the other’s attention. When Kolivan quirked a brow, Lance tapped his temple. “Marmora Mode.”

At that, the older man chuckled. Or, at least, he made a little grunt, the corners of his lips quirking up just a bit. Though, it could have been the lighting. “I suppose you could say that.”

“I know how you feel,” Lance offered and then folded his arms on the table, resting his head atop them and letting out a sigh. “But I’m sure he’s glad you came,” he said, gesturing toward a smiling Keith with his chin.

“I felt I had to,” Kolivan replied solemnly. “Thace and Ulaz…” he trailed off with a shake of his head. “They would have wanted me here.”

Lance nodded, his cheek rubbing against his forearms. Then he shot up in his seat, an idea popping into his head. “Hey,” he began, turning toward Kolivan. “You want to dance?”

The other simply blinked at him, his face remaining stoic. “Excuse me?”

“You know? Get out onto the dance floor? Relax a little?”

“I don’t-”

“I know you wouldn’t normally,” Lance stressed. “But this is a joyous occasion!”

Kolivan hesitated and Lance took the opportunity. He stood up and held his hand out.

“C’mon.” He grinned. “I promise to go easy on you.”

At that, Kolivan sighed, but he acquiesced, allowing Lance to drag him out onto the floor. And even though the loneliness still lingered, the moment the larger man spun him around, his movements far more graceful than they had any right to be, Lance almost forgot all about it.

Aww. I know it wasn’t the most romantic drabble, but I hope you liked it!

Please send me a VLD ship and a number

Penguins: Pt. I (NSFW-ish)

That option was the one I was secretly rooting for in that poll for Saeran LOL So since I liked that much, I got a liiiiitLOT carried away and decided to make two parts, with all the smutty on the second part (that I’ll probably post on saturday ;) So hope you enjoy this! I love Ray, but my little tsundere-ish cutie Saeran will be forever my official hc for him <3

Nothing. It’s the third call that goes to voicemail. Saeran throws his phone on the bed, sighing in frustration. Where would you be right now? No, that’s not the right question, the question is: why would you call him so late in the night to say… you… you love him?

What kind of stupid prank is that? Are you and his brother teaming up to mess with him? Ohh… if you only thought he would go soft on you like Yoosung or Zen do just because you’re cute, you’re tremendously wrong! No… he won’t have mercy on you, he’ll stop talking to you for weeks if you try to mess with him!

Oh… maybe not weeks… just a few days. He… he needs you to take him to the therapist on Monday… oh, and there’s a new ice cream shop he found out and wants to take you… so… he could ignore your texts for one, two hours, maybe? Y-Yeah! That will teach you a lesson!

So when his phone starts buzzing, Saeran throws his pillow over it to muffle the annoying sound. Wow… it’s buzzing a lot! Are these all texts from you…? No, he won’t look!

At least not now, maybe later when he finishes playing this round with Yoosu… ahh! Fuck this stupid game! Where is his phone?

17 texts! All from you! Saeran scrolls through them, feeling a rage growing, it looks like you’re trying to mimic the texts he used to send you on his Unknown days. Ugh… what’s gotten to you today? You never mess with him like this, you’re usually nice… and silly… and very sweet…


That was your not so sweet latest text. Oh… you seem mad… but why? Did he do something wrong? Ah, he knew he shouldn’t ignore you! Now you’re mad! Well, but come to think of it, you started this by yourself when you called him saying you love him. Tsk… what is wrong with you today?

A fourth call. And you answer this one.


“Bae… Baeran? What are you talking about? And what you…?”

“I’m heeeere, why don’t you open?”

“Open what, MC?”

“The dooooor, the door to your heart. And the door to your house too.”

“The door? Wait, are you here…?”

“Can’t identify answer. Please, try again. Sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ in Arabic.” The security system robotically requests. Ugh… why does Saeyoung keep this shit activated even when he’s out of town? Idiot…

Saeran rolls his eyes and types the codes his brother showed him to open the door by the inside. As soon as he does, his body is immediately pushed to the floor. It’s you wrapping your arms around him and boxing him with your legs.

“You’ve opened! Yay!”

“What the fuck do you… what are you doing, MC?” he asks in complete shock. His face heats up as he notices how close your face is from his. But wait… his blushing… is nowhere near yours. Why do you look so red? And what’s with this disgusting smell? “Are you drunk, MC?”

“Whhhaaaat? Of course not!”

“You’re drunk and a terrible liar! What’s wrong with you? Why have you been drinking? And how did you get here? Did you drive here? Are you insane? And you…?” he stops noticing your eyes gleaming, it would be cute if you don’t start sobbing and… “Are you crying?”

“Saeran… I’m sorry, I don’t want you mad at me, Saeran. Don’t get mad at me, pleeease. I hurts…”

Well… shit. Now he feels like a prick. He keeps his hands raised, and as you start crying so much he feels his shoulder getting wet, Saeran awkwardly pas your back.

“I’m… I’m not mad. I’m just worried. Don’t… don’t drink this much, it’s bad for you.  And don’t walk by yourself like this, you know how there are disgusting guys out there, what if they hurt you? Do you know what kind of hell I would have to do with the life of anyone that ever hurts you? MC?” he notices you’re not crying anymore.

“Saeran… do penguins have knees?”


“Penguins, they’re birds that…”

“I know what penguins are! What are you…?” he takes a deep breath. No, you will start crying again if he scolds you. “Come on! Let’s get up…”


He feels like laughing when walking into the living room and seeing you spacing out on the couch. But no, this is serious, what if you pass out or something?

“Here.” He offers you a little bowl.

“What’s that?”

“It’s… ice cream.” You narrow your eyes a him. “What? I’ve googled that a drunken person might be lacking glucose, so taking sweet things will help them get better…”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, MC…” he’s doing his best not to lose his patience. But truth be told, you’re kinda cute like this. “So take it, it will make you feel good.”

“I really want to feel good, Saeran… can you help me?”

“I’m trying, but you don’ take the ice-cream!”

“I don’t want ice-cream!” Oh… cute and annoying, like a kid.

“Then what do you want?”

You serpentine you body on the couch, rolling towards him.


Saeran feels his body twitching as your sultry gaze meet his. What is this? It’s like you’ve been possessed or something. He gulps feeling your breasts rubbing against his arm.


“Yes, Saeran. I want you…” you come closer, and he’s so focused on your face he almost forgets your hands, but it’s impossible to forget how they rub against his legs, messily tring to undo the fly… whoa, what is this?

“MC, I don’t think this is…”

“What? I don’t have a gag reflex. Are you worried I might throw up?”

“I… I wasn’t until you mentioned.” You chuckle, and his body tenses up to your languid moves.

Saeran doesn’t know how to react, it’s like one of the several wet dreams he had with you throughout these months coming to life. But no, it’s different, because you were sober in his dreams, you knew what you were doing and you wanted. Right now, you’re a mess! And what kind of man would he be if he let you continue with this? Would he be… like those disgusting guys he mentioned before?

“MC, stop!” he holds you by your shoulder, pulling away.

“Wha… why? You don’t want it?”

“No, and neither do you! So snap out of it!”

“Of course I do! I said I want you, Saeran! I… have been waning you for a while now.

Oh no, no that talk again! You’re obviously messing with him again! Tsk… and to think he almost believed in you for a second…

“Stop talking rubbish and eat the ice cream, MC!” he looks away, and since he doesn’t feel the bowl being taken from his hands, he looks at you, only to find tears again.

“Ru-rubbish? You think my feelings for you are… rubbish?” you blink several times, as if you’re processing what he just said.

“Your… your feelings?”

“Saeran… I understand if you don’t love me back, but… my feelings are real, why would you belie… belillle…?”

“Belittle?” he helps you since apparently it’s a hard word.

“Yes… why would you take my feelings for granted? You’re not like this…”

“I’m… not? So how am I, MC?”

“You are sweet, you have this distant attitude because you’re shy, but you’re so caring with the people you like, and… you’re smart, you’re funny, your smile makes me smile… and… I don’t know, I just… I just love you so much, Baeran, I…”

He stares at you and your sudden moment of eloquence. How was he supposed to answer? This really doesn’t sound like rubbish, this sounds very honest… this sounds…

Sounds like his own feelings for you. And he knows his aren’t rubbish, so… maybe yours aren’t either?

“I’m sorry.” You lower your head, and his heart skips a beat.

“Don’t. Just go to bed.” He grabs your arm, making you get up.” You can sleep in my room. I’ll look into Saeyoung’s stuff to see if he has girl pajamas.” That freak could be useful now.

“Where will you sleep?”

Well, he wouldn’t probably get any sleep that night, so it doesn’t matter. However… as he walked into his room bringing a shirt and sweatpants, seeing you curled up on his bed, your dress and heels on the floor and his sweater on your body, Saeran knew there was only one place o sleep that night: next to you.

But no, he still wouldn’t sleep at all that night, He had so much to think about…

See Part II here~

Hello! I’m Flora, and I’m starting my new studyblr blog!

It dawned on me that I haven’t actually posted an introduction yet, even though I’ve seen lots of new studyblrs post theirs first, haha. I’ve actually been trying to keep a studyblr going for awhile now, but I always start to forget about them right as I’m trying to build them *sigh*. I wish I could keep up with this one, though. 

So, this is just a short intro containing a few facts about me, and I hope that through this post I can get to know and meet the community!

  • My name is Flora.
  • I turned fourteen on June.
  • I live in the Philippines.
  • I’ll be starting ninth grade just a few days from now!
  • My hobbies include: reading fiction and poetry and writing them as well, watching films and tv shows, learning languages, graphic editing, discovering new music, watching anime, playing the guitar and, in general, just learning about stuff ;u;
  • I’m a little fluent in Korean! I’m still continuing on improving my vocabulary and grammar, but I can read and write and construct basic sentences. (I started studying mostly because of K-pop, haha)
  • I’m currently learning Greek and Latin, but I’ll also venture into new languages once the school year starts.
  • I’m very interested in psychology and philosophy.
  • I’m super nervous around new people, but I love getting to know them, so please feel free to message me or send me an ask whenever you want to talk to someone or have something to tell me ;u;

And finally, I hope I can get to know more of the community! I’m loving it so far, everyone seems so nice and lovely; you all motivate me to keep it going and to keep trying harder.

Nice to meet you! (´。• ᵕ •。`)

Some of my favorite blogs that made me decide to start a studyblr (I hope you don’t mind me tagging you!): @emmastudies​, @milkyjournals​, @areistotle​, @studyquill​, @rhubarbstudies​, @unscholar​, @smoketexture​ and @phctcsynthesis​!

He Thrusts His Fists Against the Posts (Bill/Stan)

Thank you to the anon who submitted this!! It’s super cute!! Fun fact: one of the few things I didn’t like about the book is the fact that the other losers make fun of Bill’s stutter, like, constantly. Hope you don’t mind I fixed the formatting a little & gave it a title!! xxx

“When was the last time it rained? It looks pretty dry-”

“It’s fine I promise-”

“So is your mother, but I’d still do her!”

“-you’re sick Tozier, you know that right?”

Bill sighed and glanced up at Stan, who, to his dismay, was fully engaged in the conversation. They had been arguing about the depth of the water for at least half an hour, and frankly, Bill didn’t even want to swim anymore.

“Fine, go ahead and jump! I’m not dragging your body out of the water-”

“It’s deep enough, I swear-”

“Why don’t you test it out, then?!”

Stan’s voice jolted Bill from his thoughts. He was frustrated- Stan was pretty level-headed, and it was the two of them who prevented the losers from doing anything too stupid. Joining in this argument was unlike him, and Bill was tired of it.

“S-s-stop!” Bill yelled. Six heads immediately turned, all eyes on him. “This is s-s-stupid and we’re j-just wasting our t-t- our ti- FUCK!” Bill curled his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the curved palm of his left. He hated how his stutter got worse when he was angry. Or any strong emotion, for that matter.

“What’s a tie fuck?” Stan asked facetiously, not even trying to hide the smirk on his face. “Can you explain what you mean, B-B-Bill?”

Bill looked away so the losers could not see the hurt clouding over his eyes. He was used to this shit from Richie, hell, he expected it. But never from Stan. Without saying a word, he gave Stan he finger and turned on his hell, walking away from the quarry.

“Aw, don’t be a pussy Bill!”

“Stan, what the fuck-”

“Does this mean we’re not jumping?”

But their cries were lost on Bill as he continued down the trail, anger and a familiar rhyme ringing in his ears.


He awoke to three tiny knocks on his bedroom door.

“Come in,” Bill said hoarsely, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The door slowly pushed open, revealing a guilty looking Stan.

“Were you asleep?” He asked softly. The smirk was still there, but this time it did not reach his eyes, which were full of concern. Bill nodded, shifting on the bed so that Stan could sit next to him. He lifted the covers and crawled next to Bill, who turned so that Stan could rest his head on his chest. His fingers wound around Stan’s curls and scratched lightly at his scalp. It had become second nature, the way they fit together.

“I’m sorry,” Stan murmured. “I was an asshole.”

“You were.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

Stan rolled his eyes as he turned onto his back, his head in Bill’s lap.

“What’s it gonna take for you to forgive me?”

Bill pursed his lips and let out a hum in mock thought. “I th-think I have an idea,” he said slowly. Without warning, he grabbed Stan’s hands in one of his and pinned them above his head. He wiggled out from underneath him and swung one leg over him, straddling his hips. Smiling devilishly, Bill began lightly tracing his fingers up and down Stan’s arms.

“Whahat are you gonna dohoho?” Stan asked, barely containing his giggles. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to ignore Bill’s fingers that were getting dangerously close to his armpits.

“You know that rhyme I always say,” Bill said casually. “The one that he-helps my s-stutter.”

Stan’s eyes burst open, wide and terrified.

“Bill, c'mon, please don’t make mehEHE-” But Stan’s protests were interrupted by a squeal as Bill dug his fingers into the hollows of his armpits in earnest. He thrashed from side to side, but Bill had years of experience as an older brother. Stan wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m not hearing anything,” Bill sang, spidering his fingers across Stan’s neck and up to his ears.

“Hehehehe thruhuhusts his-” Stan was cut off by two fingers expertly squeezing above his kneecap. “BILL! I cahahan’t!”

“That’s not part of the rhyme,” Bill teased, stretching rhyme into two syllables. He slowed his tickling ever so slightly, allowing Stan to puncuate his giggles with a few coherent words. He drummed his fingers on Stan’s ribs expectantly. “I’m waiting.”

“He thruhusts h-his fihists… against the… agahahainst the post, but stihihihill- thahahats not fahahair!” Stan wailed as Bill’s tickling picked back up. He was merciless- forming his fingers into a claw and vibrating them across Stan’s stomach, hitting in between each rib.

“What was that?” Bill’s smile had extended past the realm of devilish and was bordering on pure evil. “Can you explain what you mean?”

“BILL!” Stan yelled, before his laughter turned silent, except for the occasional snort. 

Finally, Bill took pity on him and slowed his torment, climbing off his hips and flopping down next to him. Stan’s hair was tousled, and his yarmulke had fallen off his head. Bill picked it up from the floor and placed it on his chest, earning a shove from Stan.

“Gee, thanks.” They sat in silence for a minute, Stan catching his breath before speaking again. “I really am sorry.”

“I know.” Stan giggled as he rolled over, pressing his forehead to Bill’s and giving it a quick kiss. He lay back down beside him, reaching for Bill’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “I love you.”

They lay for a long time, drifting in and out of lazy sleep. At some point Bill rolled over and pulled Stan to his chest. They lay back to front, lulled by the rhythm of each others breathing. Bill was almost asleep when he heard a faint murmuring. 

“He thrusts his fists against the post, but still insists he sees the ghosts.”

And Bill smiled into the crook of Stan’s neck as he whispered, “i love you t-too.”

The 'Steve Rogers is intersex' post

So this post is about a year over-due. I guess I kind of hoped someone else would write it so I wouldn’t have to (I am terrible at this, as you’re about to find out*), but well, no one has written one that I’ve seen, so here goes!

*I’ll make up for that by inserting gifs. And by keeping it as short as I can.

Since you’re following this blog, chances are that, like me, you’re somewhere under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella.

So you probably know all too well about the issues with the lack of representation for LGBTQIA+ in the media. There’s a particular lack of intersex representation. Last year a couple of the YA books in the LGBT+ category featured intersex protagonists! This is great, because when I was growing up there was definitely no such section in the YA fiction category, let alone a book with an intersex protagonist. In fact, I didn’t know that there were other intersex people in the world. I didn’t know the word ‘intersex’ (my doctors were pretty awful), so I couldn’t even educate myself. Once I learnt the word though and started trying to connect with others like me via the internet, well… that was a big revelation. I read everything I could find on the topic.

And then I happened to come across pre-serum Steve:

Hairless, short, skinny guy with a long list of medical conditions. If you didn’t know: it’s quite common for intersex conditions to go hand in hand with similarly long lists of medical conditions (not always, there’s a huge variety in intersex conditions out there). In my case though? I definitely felt a connection with pre-serum Steve — to such an extent that I can’t see him as anything other than intersex. Not that I’d say we had the same condition, no way, but still… intersex Steve Rogers! 

And at the time I really needed a superhero to be intersex. Seeing him as being intersex is what got me into this fandom and made Steve my favourite Avenger.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier altered Steve’s backstory, so that he didn’t grow up in an orphanage after all. So, less chance of those dreaded communal showers I always hated growing up, and therefore less chance that everyone and their goat in Brooklyn would know Steve was intersex (it wasn’t really until the 1920s/1930s that doctors started to intervene with surgeries on infants with 'ambiguous genitalia’**). Take it from me, you can hide a lot from people if you put your mind to it. However, depending on just how close Steve and Bucky (and their parents) were as kids, Steve might never have had much chance of hiding his intersex condition from Bucky. Even my dad’s generation guys just went swimming naked if women weren’t present. 

**not all intersex people have 'ambiguous genitalia’, that’s just one of many ways in which intersex conditions manifest themselves.

At any rate, I think it’s likely that one thing we would have had in common is that Steve wouldn’t really have known about other intersex people existing. Maybe he would have seen another intersex person 'on display’ at a freak show. Steve would likely have felt a lot of pressure to try and hide his intersex condition from those around him and might have felt a need to, well, prove himself.

Though seriously, my colleagues at my new place of work all assumed I was gay, just because of how I look (not because of how I dress). Pre-serum Steve might’ve had to deal with a fair few people questioning, even if not out loud, whether he was queer or not, based simply on his looks due to his genetics. If word was out in the neighbourhood that he was intersex though, I don’t doubt at all that people would have seen him as being queer.

As for Steve getting into relationships with people, there’s a fair amount of virgin!Steve headcanons out there. I reckon he was having sex with Bucky, so he’s not a virgin, ehem, but okay, let’s say he wasn’t having sex with Bucky… Steve might have gotten quite far only to be rejected because of his genitals, or he might never have found anyone he felt he could trust enough to reveal to them that he was intersex. Waiting for the right partner and all… 

(All the Steve/Peggy feelings at this point).

On that note, no internet, genitals that aren’t considered the norm, well, Steve might (depending on intersex condition) have had a lot of issues with sex anyway. Again, take it from me. When you can’t even figure out how that sort of thing works solo, you aren’t often too keen to try it with someone else.

On a post-serum note to end this post, I don’t think that the serum would have 'fixed’ Steve so that he was no longer intersex. To steal some lines from my intersex!Steve fic (which I will finish once I’m over this really massive writers block, ugh): “I developed the serum to enhance fighting and survival skills. Do your genitals or the shape of your nose or your eye color affect your usefulness in battle? No. So the serum won’t affect any of those things. You’ll still be you after the procedure. You wouldn’t want me to turn you into someone else entirely, would you?”

How can you say no to a face like that?

A/N: this is a half-true story: my coworker did find a puppy on his porch (the one in the picture, in fact) and it is looking for a home and I’m considering??? taking it???? someone talk me into/out of this.


She doesn’t know how the puppy chooses her porch, of all the porches in the neighborhood, to hide on, but that’s where she finds it, shivering behind the potted plant Monty got her (and subsequently waters every time he visits, because let’s be real, Clarke hasn’t remembered to do it).

It comes up to her when she holds out her hand for it, sniffing and licking and wagging its little tail as hard as it can. Clarke has never spent much time around dogs in general, much less a baby, but she can’t just leave it there. Not in November, when it’s forty degrees out.

But she can’t just leave it in her house either. That would turn into a game of find the shit spots she doesn’t particularly want to play.

So she does the first thing that occurs to her: she pulls out her phone and takes a picture, texting it to Bellamy with the caption WTF.

He calls her back immediately, bless him.


“Did you drunk-adopt a puppy?”

“What? No. I found him on my porch.”

“You just found him.” He sounds dubious, and Clarke scowls.

“Behind my bush. I don’t know– tell me what to do.”

“No collar anywhere?”

“Not that I can see.” She stands, looking around the yard and the adjacent sidewalk, and the puppy scampers to her feet, pouncing on her shoes.

“Okay, well you should take him to the vet. Get him checked out, make sure he’s healthy. See if he has a microchip.”

The puppy’s assault on her feet is relentless, so Clarke scoops him up in one hand, cradling him against her chest. He’s still shaking, poor thing.

“A microchip? You’re making that up.”

“Which one of us was a dog walker all through college?”

“Fair point.” Puppy starts licking at her chin and she laughs, pulling him away. “So vet, and then what?”

“Bring him in here.” The suggestion gives her pause. Their office is pretty laid-back, no dress code to speak of, casual schedule, coworkers’ families dropping by sometimes. They’ve even had a dog or two visit before, but usually ones who were potty trained.

Still, it’ll be a whole room of people who will coo and fawn over him. Plus Bellamy, who has got to be the most nurturing person Clarke knows. If anyone can teach her what to do with a dog, it’ll be him.

“Okay,” she says at last. “I think those are all steps I can handle.”

Bellamy snorts softly, fond. “Yeah, you’ll be fine Princess. See you when you get in.”

* * *


Subject: Sidetracked this morning

Hey guys,

Found this little guy on my porch when I was leaving for work.

Taking him to the vet, so I’ll be in a little later than usual!


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1/100 days of productivity!

first original post on studyblr, yay! i hope the quality isn’t too bad, and i’d appreciate constructive criticism ☺️ i couldn’t quite find the right lighting for the picture (sigh)

i decided to start this challenge because my exams are coming up soon (oh no) and it sounded like a fun way to start my studyblr journey! i’d also like to thank the people who were so welcoming when i posted my intro, y'all are the best!

— kali

March 15, 2017.
its been way too long since the last time i post an original post. ANDD HOW ARE YALLLL I MISS YAAAA💗💞
so hi! i finally had a pack of mildliner and theyre the yellow pack (and already ordered the rest of another packs; pink blue and peach yay) such a dream come true omg i finally have the enough money to buy them!!
they came in mail like 3 days before the-i-broke-my-bone-accident😅😅
im still in recovery right now!! (the doctor said it need a month or so sigh)
but i really hope as soon as i get well i’ll use them more for my notes💗💞💓

FicRequest: Take Me Away

FicRequest: Take Me Away
Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader
Word Count: 1141
For the ever-lovely @southernbellestatues, Thank you so much for an amazing request!
Warnings: fluff, mentions of abuse, nerdy book love
A/N: I hope you like this one! It kinda hit me close to home.

Originally posted by town-lights

A self-proclaimed nerd, books have been a part of your life ever since you can remember. More so than movies, books were able to transport you out of a bad home life into any world you chose to pick up that day. Entering Starfleet was more of an escape from home than an active decision to explore space. Anyplace where your family weren’t screaming at each other or hitting you had to be a better place. Getting assigned to the Enterprise was shear luck. True, you were very good at you job, but you doubted that you were “Enterprise good”. Little did you know, Dr. Leonard McCoy hand picks his nurses.

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