so i decided that needed to be changed

anonymous asked:

Hello! How are you? I hope well, nwn Anyway, I hope I'm not being selfish by asking if you could write a Soulmate AU with Akutagawa (I love him *-*) in which each of them have a clock that is a countdown of how long they have to find the other or else they will die(!) You can end it angsty or not --We need more angst in the world :)--. If not, it's fine! Have a great day/afternoon/night!

scenarios are actually closed but fuck it. written on my laggy comp so i decided to say “screw it” with capitalization, sorry. conditions changed to they have to accept each other as soulmates.


bathroom. six. standing in the tub, up to your ankles in water. towel wrapped around your body. hair damp. wrist out, fingers tracing the clock inked into your skin. thirteen years, twelve days, seven hours and nine minutes. unknown meanings, uncertain futures. the door is locked and your sister shouts at you to hurry up.

bathroom. seven. toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. you’re scrubbing the white collar of your uniform. someone punched you in the nose today. you can’t remember who, but there was blood all over the place. “toothpaste helps with the blood,” yous sister tells you. she’s rubbed her thumb over your cheek. she left with a pocketful of change to buy a snack.

bathroom. eight. shower handle broken. needle in hand. the house is falling apart, you say. everything’s a mess. all you see is the collapse and nothing else. you are young and all you see is the excitement. you’re wearing long sleeves to cover the clock. eleven years, two-hundred sixty-five days, two hours, and fifty-nine minutes. you don’t know what it means.

bathroom. ten. the tiles are wet. the corners of the shower-tub contraption are sharp. slipped, cracked your head open, blood painting the cold floor beneath you in a mesmerizing spiral. you’re too dizzy to comprehend what’s going on. your mother’s shouting, your sister is trying to lift you. rushed off to the hospital.

bathroom. twelve. the door locked behind you, pressing your body as close as you can to it as if it will stop them from getting in. someone’s trying to rob the coffeeshop. you’re breathing slowly, quietly, as if they can hear you. footsteps outside. heart pounding. you stop breathing, as if that could still your heart. it’s then that you realize that your damned inked watch ticks. seven years, twenty-nine days, seventeen hours, one minute. you don’t know that it’s only in your head.

bathroom. thirteen. flashing lights and bodies hitting the ground. you can’t tell is the wailing is the sirens or you. it’s you. hands pulling you back, voices rising in a confusing cacophony. you were supposed to be in the car but you had forgotten your lunch. words replay in your mind for hours and hours and hours and it just doesn’t stop. dead dead dead dead dead -

bathroom. fourteen. there’s a girl with you. she’s twelve. there’s a cut on her face and skinned knees. she’s poor, you can tell. “i live in the slums,” she tells you. like she’s trying to stop you from helping her. you ignore her, pulling toothpaste from the cabinet and holding your hand out for her shirt. clothes are piled neatly next to her. you’re going to give her your sister’s savings.

bathroom. fifteen. he’s bandaging your sprained wrist. “only idiots punch like that,” he tells you. you glare. as if he has any right to be telling you what to do. you saved his sister and he repays you in insults. he catches your expression and doesn’t say anything. he shoves you from the shack without even thanking you. next time, you’ll let him die. you’ll let the other orphans gut him. you won’t turn your head when you walk down the street. you’ll deliver the groceries to your mother like you were supposed to. next time, you tell yourself. 

bathroom. sixteen. the you in the mirror glowers back at you. messy hair, a haunted look in your eyes. of course. you had just seen him kill a boy. you tell yourself it’s expected. you found his sister and him on the brink of death. it’s how things work in the slums. you rub your hands over your face, over your eyes. you need sleep. arms still covered in long sleeves, clock still counting down. three years, two days, sixteen hours, thirty-five minutes.

bathroom. seventeen. you’re drunk. someone’s pushing you up against the wall, someone’s lips are on yours and you’re not doing anything to stop them. you don’t even know where you are or who’s with you. he had dragged you with him. shoved fancy clothes into your arms and told you to change and pulled you with him. you don’t understand where you are, but he told you that you didn’t have to. go with him once, and you’ll never have to see him again. good, you replied. ever since you met him, you had to deal with too much.

bathroom. seventeen. where am i where am i what happened what did i do. you’re puking up your guts in the toilet of a nice apartment. hands are holding hair away from your face. they’re surprisingly gentle. the callouses on them are the only thing that identify him. neither of you have spoken to each other. when you straighten, you realize you’re not wearing long sleeves. the clock is stark against your skin for both of you to see. one year, three-hundred sixty-two days, three hours, five minutes

bathroom. eighteen. you’re pressing your hands against your forehead. you don’t know what to do. you’re bleeding from your bottom lip from biting yourself too hard. dressed in black from head to toe. outside your mother’s body waits, your family paying their respects. there are dark rings under your eyes. you don’t know what to do.

bathroom. eighteen. knife against your throat. you’ve been lost in a whirlwind of confusion, and someone had promised to explain but he had vanished. now a killer stands in your house. your house. the one you had grown up in, the one you had watched your mother and sister die in. you almost let the robber cut your throat.

bathroom. nineteen. fingers intertwined with yours. voice promising that he’ll never leave you alone again. they’re chasing you. there’s a bounty on your head in the underworld simply because you’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time for too many occasions. you don’t believe him. he’s never been there for you. you’ve had to get yourself out of too many messes.

bathroom. nineteen. you’re staring at your clock. five days, seven hours, twenty-one minutes. you don’t know what happens when it runs down.

bathroom. twenty. body draped over the couch. fingers running over cold skin, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. he rolls up your sleeve, sees the clock at zero years, zero days, zero hours, zero minutes. he pulls up his own sleeve. there is no clock.

The Arkansas Sleep Experiments

by reddit user nazisharks

To Those Who Sleep

This happened a few years ago. You may have heard rumors if you’re on campus. Some even circulated online. Nobody knew what really happened. Because I’m the only one who knows and I kept quiet. For a multitude of reasons. None of them matter now. Here’s what really happened.

The four of us were handpicked for this experiment by Prof. Richardson because we’d all studied under him, worked under him, and, as much as anyone can, earned his confidence.

He said this one was different. We had to keep it quiet. He wanted to keep details to a minimum. All he would tell us before going in was that he required a month of our lives and that if he succeeded sleep would never again be a necessity.

Keep reading

DOCTOR DREAMY | PT.2 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | (ongoing)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst + expecting parents au

word count: 11,035

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin

description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

cr. 


six years prior.

“Do you wanna have kids one day?”

Jimin tilted his head as if to ponder the idea before tugging you across the bed until you were leaning against his chest, curious eyes catching your own.  

“Sure, I mean one day. One day, far, far away,” He said, pointing his finger off into the distance jokingly.

You laughed, hand skimming along the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Any particular reason why you’re asking?” He said as he began playing with the strands of your hair.

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “We’ve been dating for a long time, just thought that it’s something we should know about each other.”

Jimin nodded, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of something you should figure out before things get too far in the relationship… Guess we waited a bit too long, but we’re on the same page, so that’s good,” He smiled, leaning down to place a short peck against your lips.

“So that means you think that information will be put to good use one day?” You asked, quirking your brow to insinuate.

Keep reading

7 Key Insights on Self Love

1. I need to affirm and to validate myself as it’s hard to accept validation from others if, deep down inside, I don’t believe it’s true.

2. My time is valuable as anybody else’s so I need to prioritise what I need to do.

3. I can’t give to others, and help to build them up, if I’m not taking care of my own self first.

4. I need to remember that I’m worthy of love, of success, opportunities, and knowing happiness.

5. My opinions are as valuable as anybody else’s. It’s up to me to decide and to choose my own beliefs.

6. I don’t have to explain why I do what I do (unless you’re the police or have some authority!)

7. My past does not define me - I’m free to change and grow, to try on different “me”s, and to set inspiring goals.

What is executive dysfunction?
  • Executive functions are things like making plans, following through on plans, controlling impulsive actions, internalized self-talk, changing activities, and, yes, paying attention or focusing on the things we need or want to attend to. There are others, but these are the ones I know the most about and they seem to be the ones that plague us the most.
  • Making Plans. You get up in the morning and you have to decide what you’re going to do that day. Whatever list of activities you choose, that’s making a plan. Here’s another one: you need to clean up your room, so you stand in the doorway and decide what to do first. That’s making a plan.

    Executive dysfunction (ADHD) makes this really hard for a lot of people. Because we tend to see the whole picture better than the little parts, tasks like “clean your room” can be overwhelming. We need it broken down into smaller steps, like “put the clean clothes away and the dirty clothes in the hamper, then put the books on the bookcase.” For some people, even that is too much at a time. They need it broken down to “pick up the first piece of clothing you see and figure out if it’s clean or dirty; if it’s clean, put it in the correct drawer of your dresser or hang it up in the closet, and if it’s dirty, put it in your hamper.”

    Difficulty with this kind of thing can cause a lot of anxiety, and it’s why we tend to freeze up when faced with large, complicated jobs. We simply don’t know where to start, because making a plan is not something we are good at.
  • Following through on plans. Once you have a plan, you start at the first thing and you work your way down the steps until you’ve completed them all, right? Right. Well, executive dysfunction makes it really hard to do this.

    Part of it can be overwhelm: we look at the list of steps, see how long it is (big-picture thinking), and conclude that it’s impossible so we can’t do it. Other times we might not think we can do any of it right, or we might not know how to complete the step we’re on. Or we get distracted, or hung up on one of the steps (a lot of us are perfectionists).
  • Controlling impulsive actions. Most people are able to keep from saying every little thing that pops into their heads. They don’t buy things just because they like them without thinking about whether or not they’re too expensive or something. They control how they react to their emotions and save angry outbursts for whatever they think is an appropriate time and place.

    Executive dysfunction makes this really hard.

    ADHDers don’t have much of a “filter” unless it’s been drilled into us through behavioural conditioning (usually done by society in response to the stuff we say or do). So we think something and we say it, even if it’s hurtful. We buy stuff we like and then can’t pay our bills but hey we have a hot tub! We act out in anger and then wonder why people are afraid of us or mad at us five minutes later, because once we’ve raged we’re good and not mad anymore. As a general rule, we always intend to do the right thing… it’s just not always possible because our brains like to follow every impulse they have.
  • Internalized self-talk. Everyone has what’s known as “self-talk.” For people with low self-esteem, this is pretty negative. But it’s not just about what we tell ourselves about ourselves. It’s also how we get through situations (“Five more situps and we’re done for the day!”) and work through problems (“Next time Jimmy says that I’m going to tell him to go jump in a lake!”). By about age seven or eight (I forget exactly when; it could be older but I’m pretty sure it’s sometime in elementary shcool), most people are really good at keeping all of this silent and in their heads.

    Not so for those of us with ADHD. Executive dysfunction means that we don’t internalize our self-talk until much later, assuming we ever do. I still talk to myself out loud most of the time, though I do internalize a lot (especially in public).
  • Changing activities. You know the law of physics that says that an object that is at rest will remain at rest until acted upon by an external force, and that an object that is traveling in a particular direction at a particular speed will not change direction or speed unless acted upon by an external force? That’s called inertia, and that’s basically what we’re talking about here. (This is like the one thing about physics that I find truly useful in my everyday life. Kinda sad.)

    Basically, once we’re engaged in an activity, we’re in it until something happens to get us to move on. That’s why alarms work for some people - they jolt them out of their current activity and trigger them to move on to the next thing. (Of course, an ability to ignore alarms is also part and parcel of inertia. Yay!)
  • Paying attention or focusing on the things we need or want to attend to. So, the whole “attention deficit” part of “ADHD” is pretty ludicrous, because it’s not really a deficit of attention that we’re dealing with; it’s more an inability to control what we pay attention to. So we can hyperfocus (focus exclusively on one thing for hours on end) or we can jump around from one thing to another, and we don’t really have a lot of control over that. I’m sure you can see how all of the other aspects of executive dysfunction contribute to our lack of control over our attention.

BTS “changed” their BIO lol, so I imagined what could have happened

  • Jhope: GUYS LISTEN! from now on I am a chill guy
  • Jin: BRO! Chill MWAHAHA. Jimin you get it?
  • JM: I hate you Hyung
  • Suga: … 
  • Jhope: So I decided to take one “~” from our Bio on twitter
  • Rapmon: What the … what does that even have to do with you???
  • Jhope: 2 “~” make it sound like hiiiiiii but we need to only be hiii
  •  V: NO! The last time I followed Gucci you unfollowed it as soon as you found out. Jungkookah you tell him
  • Jungkook:  I don’t even use it do whatever you want
  • Suga: … 
  • Rapmon: But wait you can’t ju-
  • Jhope: OK DONE! IT IS A NEW ME 

Meanwhile ARMY: ???????????????????????????

“Some people can’t change”

I’m sorry but….you don’t get to decide that. 

More accurate statements:

  • Some people won’t change
  • Some people don’t want to change
  • Some people have done so much damage that they need to be kept from society because there is no reliable evidence that they will ever reform and there is no way to make restitution for past actions

But whether or not they have the capability of change?

Sorry dude, tough break. That’s part of what defines us as human.

We all have that ability to change, for the better and for the worst.

The decision to change for the better is an entirely personal thing, and is within the capability of every person so long as they breathe. No matter how much you were hurt, you do not get to decide for another person whether or not they are capable of or allowed to change for the better.

That being said, no matter how much somebody changes for the better, they cannot demand:

  • Forgiveness
  • Freedom from consequences, both legal and social

If an abuser is demanding forgiveness from their victim, then it is a sign that there was no desire to change in the first place. 

That said, a true apology is not a demand for forgiveness, but an open acknowledgement of wrongs done and a window for the victim to seek restitution and closure if it is desired.


tl;dr: it’s true that some people won’t change, it’s wisdom to learn to differentiate when somebody is sincerely apologizing, and there is no shame in divorcing yourself from people who have harmed you regardless of how much they may change for the better. 

You owe them nothing, and they still must atone for past actions in whatever ways are possible.

It is not true, however, that people can’t change. 

Everybody can change. 

I think people who avoid medications because they “don’t want to change their body chemistry/depend on artificial drugs” are missing the obvious, especially in the case of chronic illnesses.
If you need medication, your body chemistry is already off. The medication brings it back to normal. It’s not like a perfectly healthy person decided to pop levothyroxine pills for kicks; it’s someone using the tools available to bring themselves just a bit closer to being healthy.
“Well I wouldn’t want to be dependent on so many drugs.”
Good for you, hypothetical health nut. But some of us don’t have that option, and taking medications isn’t choosing to be dependent anyway. Getting proper treatment makes us /more/ independent.
Point is, you’re not polluting yourself or whatever by taking your meds. You’re not taking the coward’s way out or giving yourself over to big pharma.

Hey!
I got a bunch of people message me they enjoy the songs I link in a few posts, so I decided to make a post just for the musics I use when I draw!

[I still need to finish this BNHA fanart with my two favorites characters wearing headphones]


“10″ SONGS [change every month -or so I try] :

  1. Kaguraduki - Overflowing Light
  2. Electro Swing Mix 2017
  3. Waterflame - Glorious Morning 2
  4. (Rabpit) Deemo - Saika
  5. Jessie Siren - The Sway
  6. Above & Beyond - Counting Down The Days
  7. Underwaterbeats - Timeless
  8. Feint - Pastels
  9. A Turtle’s Heart - Mili
  10. Spectrum - KEDD
@ parents of lgbt+ kids

Having homophobic and/or transphobic parents can actually destroy someone on the inside. It is a soul destroying feeling when those closest to you, the people you grew up with or still are growing up with, won’t accept who you are, or even disown you for simply being who you are.

When I came out as a lesbian my mum didn’t even look at me for a month, let alone talk to me. She told me that lesbians disgust her and she didn’t want a gay daughter. My dad kept telling me repeatedly that I was confused, telling me it was a choice and calling me “dyke” in the process. My grandmother told me I was going to hell, I was damaged, unnatural, dirty, sinful, and still calls it an “unsettling phase”.

Every individual experience is different, but because of the clear message I got off my dad when I was 9 years old and he told me “never come home and tell me you’re gay” I buried my sexuality for years, dated boys, kissed boys, would have gone a lot further with them if I had ever been in a position to do so, sometimes even hoped to end up in that position because I was so desperate to be “normal” even though the thought of doing anything with a boy disgusted me, which in turn filled me with even more self hatred, didn’t tell anyone when I was harassed online by a man twice my age when I was only 13 because I thought it was the least I deserved after having such “unnatural” thoughts. I grew to have so much internalised homophobia due to the fear I had of being gay because my dad had said that to me when I was only 9 years of age. I faked crush after crush on boys, staring at their Facebook profiles willing myself to feel something, anything, yet looking at a random girl in the street and feeling a fire burn inside me, yet still not accepting it, burying it and blocking it out.

I blocked it out as best as possible, talking about boys and acting as straight as possible, especially around my friends, until I was almost 16, when I saw a lesbian couple kiss on BBC television on at 8pm programme, and in that moment, I knew that was what I wanted, I knew that I couldn’t spend my life being something I’m just not, pretending every day of my life. I knew in that moment that I was gay, I knew that I wanted a girlfriend, I knew that I wanted a wife, and for the first time the idea of marriage seemed appealing, and I felt at peace and like I truly knew myself.

So a couple of months later, I told my friends, which took more courage than I knew I had. After that went well, I felt confident enough to tell my parents, encouraged by the good experience of coming out to my friends.

I was a mess when I told my mum. Although I felt confident enough to do it, I was still terrified and shaking and it was the most nerve racking moment of my life. I didn’t mean for it to happen how it did, and I could have told her in a better way, but in that moment I felt I had to, it was the right time for me. After I told her, I went to my room where I sent her a text, which I’m not going to quote entirely because it’s too personal, but it explained everything, I told her the journey of discovering my sexuality, I told her I loved her, I explained my fears, my feelings, my experiences, everything. In response I received a text saying: “I can’t pretend I’m happy about this. I’m not at all, but I love you regardless.” Although I had wanted a proper conversation, I accepted that she was shocked and took the text as acceptance of me. However, later that day, I went downstairs and saw her for the first time since I told her. She was crying and wouldn’t look at me. When I went downstairs, she went upstairs. I tried not to be upset, understanding her shock and giving her time. After a week of not spending more than a minute in a room with her, and not having her look at me once, I decided to try again, so I said to her “we need to talk about this” but she walked away from me. I tried texting so she wouldn’t have to directly talk, but she ignored everything I sent her.

Throughout the month, nothing changed, I was constantly ignored by her, and when she told my dad without consulting me, he just told me I was confused, and shouted at me for upsetting everyone, telling me I was messing up my GCSEs because of my confusion and immature phase, when the only thing endangering my grades was their prejudice and discrimination against their own daughter. As the month progressed, with still no change in either of them, I felt more and more worthless, my internalised homophobia reared its head once more, more prominent than ever, and I considered all sorts of things that I don’t even want to go into, I even looked at conversion therapy at one point because I felt like such a failure and a disappointment to my family, and my grandmother was the worst, calling me damaged and an unnatural sinner constantly.

The day my mum spoke to me again I was so shocked I could barely reply. She acted as though the last month hadn’t even happened, and went on like that for a week, blocking out what had happened, never once mentioning it, evidently hoping that it had all gone away or that her ignoring me had made me bury it again so it couldn’t tarnish our family and I could just live an unhappy life. At the end of that week, I mentioned it. I said “it’s not a phase” and she still wouldn’t talk, which is when I started to show my anger. This is when she told me that lesbians disgust her, spewing the typical hate about hell and morality and sin. Not being able to take it anymore, I locked myself in the bathroom, sat in the bathtub and properly cried for the first time in months. All my emotions came flooding out, and I would say that day was the saddest and most hopeless I’d ever felt. I felt utterly rejected, outcast, like I could never belong, like a disappointment, and a failure as a daughter, as a person.

During an argument with my dad, he called me a dyke, declaring I was damaged and that something had obviously gone drastically wrong during my development to “turn me”.

Those few months I felt so sad, lonely, isolated, rejected, hopeless and crushed. The two most important people in my life practically disowned me, and it took all the fight and courage I had to keep going, to keep pushing on, and I’m glad I did, because I love myself and have never been prouder of who I am, and things are better now, not completely, but they’re better, even though I can’t talk openly, even though I still feel insecure, even though I still tense up every time I so much as approach the subject around my parents, things are better.

All this occurred before and during my GCSE exams, when I should have been studying. My results are due at the end of this month, and I’ve accepted that I’m not going to have done very well, and I tell myself that it’s through no fault of my own. Through everything that was happening, I still found time to study. I tried my hardest but when the people closest to you seem to hate you for being you, it’s kind of hard to concentrate and focus on anything other than the constant throbbing ache inside when you know your parents, the people who made you, the people who raised you, the people who always told you they loved you, don’t accept you.

So parents of LGBTQA+ children and teenagers, please please accept your child. If you weren’t prepared for the possibility of your child not being straight and/or cis, then you shouldn’t have had a child. Simple as that. Your child’s sexuality and gender are just as natural as they hair colour and eye colour. Please, please, please love your children, accept them, support them. Everything I went through could have been avoided had my parents done so. And the scary thing is I was lucky. Some people are thrown out, completely disowned, attacked, some people are even killed. I count myself lucky, and that’s sad. It’s sad that I count myself lucky for being unaccepted by my parents, because some people could tell stories that would make you sick about their coming out, that would make your skin crawl, but this is my story, and I’m sharing it in the hope that it will help young LGBTQA+ individuals, but also in the hope that it will help parents. Please love your children. Accept them. Support them. Tell them you love them. Make them feel accepted. Make them feel supported. Because you could lose them. Far too many young people take their own lives because their parents don’t accept them, simply because of who they want to love.

Love is love, and love is the most important thing.
For You{1} [Jeff Atkins]

Request: Can i request a Jeff Atkins imagine where hes like a badboy but when Y/N is the new girl at Liberty and Clay takes her under his wing, Jeff feels the need to protect her and be good for her? And then at a party he sees Monty and Y/N flirting so he gets wasted and Y/N ends up taking him to her house and taking care of him and he drunkenly confesses his softy feelings for her?

Pairing:bad boy!Jeff Atkins x fem!reader

A/N:I changed it a lil bit,hope you don’t mind!This is my very first Jeff imagine so please bear with me;)Also,i decided to divide this imagine into two or three parts.Oh,and feedback is always welcome:)-M

part 2     part 3      part 4      part 5   tags: @leviathan-cas-05     @gamesandremixes    @shamless-wolfies

Originally posted by cynicalsunset


Ever since Y/N came to Liberty High,the students just couldn’t stop talking about her;the new girl was really beautiful and seemed really kind.Just because she was quite an introvert,the first person she started hanging out with was Clay Jensen.They would walk in the halls,they would do school projects together and sometimes they would go to Monet’s for coffee or milkshakes.

It hadn’t been long until Y/N got slightly annoyed by the behavior of a specific boy who obviously wasn’t happy with her existence;Jeff Atkins.One of the most popular boys at school and one of the best football players.But he didn’t take girls seriously.His longest"relationship"wasn’t longer than two weeks,Clay told her.

There was something on him though,something that made her stomach flip whenever he passed by.Was it his beautiful face?His muscular body?His adorable laugh?Maybe his talent?She couldn’t tell.But she wanted to get to know him,that she could tell for sure.But she decided to quit thinking about him after the “hall incident” as everyone called it.

Y/N was late for last period and with many books in her hands,she was hurriedly heading to her next class.Her eyes were fixed on the floor,as always and unfortunately she didn’t see the figure in front of her.Only when she bumped into him and fell down on her butt,did she realize.Her books were all over the floor.

“What the hell Y/N?” She heard a familiar voice shouting.Embarrassed,she looked up and came face to face with a very angry Jeff Atkins.The cup of coffee he was holding just seconds ago had fallen on his white shirt,the hot liquid soaking it.

Without breaking eye contact but in tears, she stood up on her own and making sure her skirt was in the right place, she replied in a low voice.

“I’m so sorry Jeff,i wasn’t look-”

“Looking,yeah!But you know what?For once in your life just stop daydreaming and be aware of your surroundings!You’re so annoying!“He said harshly and glancing at his shirt,he let out a sigh.

“I can’t believe this is happening…"Jeff said between his gritted teeth,rubbing the soaked fabric.

The lump in Y/N’s prevented her from speaking.She just stood there,hurt.A few tears escaped her eyes but she quickly whipped them away.Were Jeff’s words true though?Was she annoying?Was he exaggerating or just stating facts?No,he didn’t know her.He didn’t know her at all.He didn’t have the right to talk about her like this.

“I can…I can help you clean it,if you want-” she offered with a shaky voice but he interrupted her once again.

“Nah,i think you’ve done enough,sweetheart…” And pushing past her,he left, fast-pacing probably to the bathroom.

Y/N bit her lip.So hard that she started tasting blood.What did she ever do to him?Yeah,they had once or twice exchanged a “hey” or a “goodbye” during chemistry classes but other than that,she didn’t really talk to him.How can a person be irritated by someone else just by looking at them?

“Y/N are you okay?“Clay broke her thoughts.He had already picked up all her books and handed them to her.

Y/N’s eyes wandered from the students who witnessed the whole thing to Clay.She then turned around and saw Jeff slowly being out of sight.

“Yeah,i am fine,i guess…"She mumbled and letting out a huge breath she didn’t know for how long she’d been holding in,she patted her friend’s shoulder.

“Jeff is bad news Y/N.Don’t stress over it.He’s rude towards everyone most of the times.Are you hurt?“He asked curiously and quickly scanned her body.

"I’m perfectly fine,thanks Clay.Guess i’ll see you around.” She said rather quickly and literally and started walking to her next class.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket so she stopped moving,taking it out to see who had messaged her.

It was her friend Jessica.

"Huge party tomorrow night.My place.Come over after school for all the details.Best part,your lovely Jeff will be there!;)”

She felt sick to her stomach as she finally went into class.The teacher hadn’t arrived yet;well,she wasn’t the only one who got late.She quietly found a place next to Justin Foley -the only one empty-who acknowledged her with a smirk.

“Great,just…Great…I hate parties…"She told herself and sighed.

A night full of surprises had been waiting for her.She just didn’t know.

“Did You Just Stab Me?”

Pairing: Bucky X Mutant!Reader

Words: 1685

Warnings: Sort of angsty. I don’t know what to file this under. I guess some humor?

Summary: “Did you just stab me?”

A/N: This is for @bladebarnes 4K celebration Writing Challenge. CONGRATS DARLING :) :) :) Permanent tag list is closed. Sorry! Bucky tag list is nearly closed. Others are still open so let me know if you want to be tagged and what you want to be tagged in HERE (in anything but the permanent tag list).

Originally posted by wintersthighs

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HRT
Day #36
06/05/2017

Really feeling myself today….
George & I actually started a new routine.
We woke up together at 4:30 am, George did some crunches and push ups, I shaved and put just a touch of make up on (Mascara & lip gloss) We decided that even though we have to get up early, its worth taking the time to do the things you need to do to feel good, look good and be healthy. We also go to bed at like 9 pm so we do actually sleep, hahaha.

My boobies hurt like omg, wow.
I can not stop hitting them, and aparenlty I have a habbit of holding things under my arm up against my chest, well… I keep squeezing my bood and huuuuurrrttttssss. Okay ya’ll know my boobs hurt by now.

It is gradual, but each day I am feeling more and more motivated. I have noiced subtle changes in my skin, but also my hair growth is getting slower (yes, omg, yes!) so shaving is becoming less of a curse. The exfoliation is REAL! It is the best feeling though, showering and scrubbing all the dead skin away, and when you get out, underneath was this soft glowing skin… bliss!

Well that is it for today! I started off slow with these HRT selfies due to kidney stones 2017, but I am gradually working it more and more into my daily routine!

Xoxo

Vampire!BTS Reaction to: Being So Hungry That They Accidentally Bite You

Hey! So I just stumbled upon your blog through a quick Google search of “vampire bts x reader” and I fell in love with your vampire!au about the guys biting reader. I was wondering if you could do one where BTS accidentally bites you because they’ve gone a long while without feeding? They haven’t fed in so long because they feel guilty about feeding on humans while they’re dating one. If it isn’t too much, can you make a reaction from BTS and reader’s point of view? Thank you so much!


Jin: Would be the first to stop feeding on humans. The second he starts to form a crush on you, he transitions over to animals. Which is difficult, for a “foodie” like Seokjin. He was well known for only feeding off the most succulent of humans and in comparison, animals are so … bland and boring. It won’t take long until he looses control of his hunger, especially with you around. Your scent drives him insane, until he can’t hold back anymore. He’ll pounce randomly, when you weren’t expecting it. You hadn’t realized how much he was struggling with an animal diet, until you’re pinned to the wall, his teeth sinking into your neck. He’s too strong to fight off and you genuinely think you would have died that day, if it weren’t for Namjoon who pulled him off.

Ashamed, Jin avoids you for a week until you eventually corner him.

“I’m not disgusted by you, Seokjin. I know the diet must be hard for you. You don’t have to stop feeding from humans. I won’t love you any less for it.”

Now that he’s tasted the finest dish in the world, he can’t go back to basic blood. “Can I have a taste of you instead?” he wonders. A drop of you far outweighs the bland blood of hundreds.

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Suga: Didn’t even want to stop feeding on humans to begin with; food is food. That’s all humans are to vampires. But if it made you feel safer, he’ll stop. And the hunger, coupled with how he never even wanted this diet, make him snap. But not fully. He feeds from you, taking enough to make you dizzy, but not threaten your life. He pulls away, a drop of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“I thought … that you were gonna kill me,” you shudder.

He smirks. “How could I kill my favourite dessert?” You were his favourite meal but since he’d starved himself so long, a taste of dessert simply isn’t enough. “I’m going out to find some dinner. Don’t wait up - I might be having seconds.”

Originally posted by yoonseok

J-Hope: You didn’t even realize how hungry he was. Hoseok was good at hiding his real feelings, to ensure the happiness of others. So when he snaps, you know he must have been hurting. You don’t fight him as he drinks from you, lovingly stroking his head instead.

“You were hungry, right? I’m sorry that you felt you needed to starve. Make sure you eat properly from now, even if it’s from humans. I don’t want you to suffer like this,” you tell him.

He pulls away, gasping for air. “I was so, so hungry. Every second of your scent was driving me crazy. I’m sorry I snapped.” He pressed a bloody kiss to your lips. “Thank you for still loving me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going out to hunt.”

Originally posted by mn-yg

Rap Monster: You can tell that he’s about to break. He had been snapping at you this past week, even if you do nothing wrong. He makes you wear scarves or turtlenecks. And the darkness of his eyes is turning a bright red.

“Joonie?” you ask, pulling off your scarf. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? There’s no need to hide it from me. You can feed from me if you want.” He had gone on the diet to keep him “clean.” He wanted no one else’s blood inside of him, to sink his teeth into no one, but you. So he refused; “No, I’m fine, baby. I don’t need blood - I’m strong enough to resist.”

But two hours later, he surprises you by pouncing and harshly biting you. The pain makes you gasp but he doesn’t care. All he wants is your blood. He drinks until your heart slows down, making him realize just how much he had taken. Pulling away, he apologizes.

“I think you’re right … I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I’m going to feed from now on. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Originally posted by bangtanboys-official

Jimin: His personality had been different this past month. He’d been keeping to himself, pouting and staring into space. He swears nothing’s wrong. And you sort of believe him until you’re jumped one morning, pinned down as Jimin bites into your neck.

He doesn’t feed much, just enough to wet his palette. He knows he needs to hunt, but hadn’t wanted to do so while hungry. His mother told him never to shop on an empty stomach. “Sorry about that, I couldn’t help myself.” You understand that the diet must have been hard for him, but shock keeps you from talking. All you can do is nod. He tenderly kisses the bite mark. “I’m going out to feed. Then I’ll be back, to punish you for putting me on this stupid diet to begin with.”

Originally posted by chimchams

V: The intensity of his gaze confuses you. He’s not your Taehyung anymore, he’s the monster he always warned you he was, but you never believed in. The cute boy was gone and only a hungry beast was left. He snapped, throwing you down, first biting your shoulder. Then your neck. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to feed from, where he wanted to taste you. Afraid for your life, you started to cry. Your tears brought Taehyung back, your Tae, not this monster. And he sits back with big doe eyes, looking sorrowful.

“I’m so sorry. I - I was so hungry and - “

“It’s okay,” you sniffle. “Vampires need to feed, right? Next time, don’t torture yourself like this. You can feed if you’re hungry, okay?”

He had agreed to stop feeding from humans because he thought he could. The thought of hurting one of your kind had been awful. But now his opinion had changed. Lions need to feed, no matter how cute the lamb is.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jungkook: Hadn’t bought into the “vegetarian diet” at all. Vampires fed off humans, that was that. Although he loved you, as long as you were safe, he didn’t care for other humans. But if it made you happy, he would try. Out of stubbornness, he lasts the longest. He refuses to admit defeat until loosing control one day, accidentally biting and nearly killing you.

“I think … I should stop this diet.”

He’ll go clear his head and feed. When he returns, he’ll apologize for his behaviour. And seeing the fear in your eyes, fear of him, breaks his heart. Jungkook listens to everything you have to say. And you compromise on his diet. That way, you’re safe and he’s not starved.

Originally posted by sugutie

Attached (Part 4)

Summary: Modern AU. Your first day at the New York Bulletin takes a catastrophic turn when you accidentally overlook a fellow employee’s private chat session. Inspired by the novel Attachments by Rainbow Rowell.

Word Count: 1,117

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

A/N: I’m so so happy all of you enjoyed the interaction between Sam and Bucky in this series! I read all of your comments, and I can’t stop smiling. I know I sound like a broken record, but thank you all so much for reading/commenting on this series. I love you all :)

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

Leaving the department, you went up to the upper floor break room for lunch. Though you normally ate at your desk, you decided you need a change of scenery…and maybe this was your feeble attempt to make new friends. 

Aside from the people you worked with on your floor and Barnes who messaged you on a daily basis (how were they still employed here?), you never really interacted with anyone else in the newsroom. Unlike your other coworkers, you never get called up to the newsroom to resolve technical issues at the workstations. You normally stayed at your desk and worked on various projects, rarely receiving any kind of request for assistance that required you to go up there. Also, it didn’t help that Barnes’ messaging distracted you from fulfilling any kind of assistance to the newsroom employees.

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Client: I know it’s Friday, but we absolutely need these by Monday.

Me: Will do.

After spending the weekend working 12 hour days:

Me: Here they are.

Client: We decided to change the logo, so we pushed this back a week. Can you make the change by then?

Lottie Tomlinson Is Launching A Book And The Name Is Just Perfect

She might have made her name as a One Direction little sister, but it’s her beauty flair and way with a make-up tool or two that her three-million-plus followers have stuck around for. Now, at just 19 years old, Lottie Tomlinson is releasing her first book, Rainbow Roots.

Initially taking inspiration from one of her most famous beauty looks, Rainbow Roots is a guide for those wanting to add to their make-up catalogue: whether that’s perfecting the basics or mastering more creative options. It’s friendly, fun and in it Lottie shares plenty of anecdotes about her beauty journey and where she’s aiming to go next.

Here, she gives us the low down, plus the first look:

How does it now feel to have a tangible product with your name on?

It feels really good to have a product that completely represents me and my style. Everything about it reflects me and my personality and I think it’s really cool that the publishers gave me so much free rein in order to achieve that.

What was the best part of creating the book?

I think the best part about it was seeing it come together for the first time, we worked on it for over a year so seeing so it was so exciting.

What was the biggest challenge?

I think the shoot was the hardest part, because we had so many looks we wanted to include in the book but after a while your face and eyes start to hurt and get sore, so that was tricky!

You’ve dedicated the book to your mum, was that an important decision for you?

It was really important for the book to be dedicated to my mum because she always believed that I was going to do well and have a great career even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t be where I am without her, she was so excited about this book. I hope I’ve made her proud.

The book not only champions make-up artists, but others pursuing their dreams - how important is it to you to empower other young women?

It’s so important because I wouldn’t be where I am without people like Lou Teasdale, who supported me and empowered me when I was new and starting up, so I think it’s really important for me to try and do the same for others.

How involved were you with the way the book looks?

I was 100 per cent involved with the whole book. The publishers really gave me free rein with it so I came up with all the looks and decided exactly how I wanted it designed. There were so many times that I sent it back to be to changed. I really wanted it to be perfect.

What was the one look you knew just had to be in there?

I knew I needed to include some neon looks as I love all things neon, and I think it’s a big trend at the moment.

What did you find out about yourself during the making of the book?

I think I found out a lot about what suits my face because I did so many different looks. That’s why I think it is really important to experiment with your make-up so you can figure out what suits you best.

What do you think is a key look in the book that everyone should master for the season ahead?

I think one of the key looks I have included in the book is my perfect base. It’s great to master that as it will complement your final look.

Who is your biggest beauty inspiration?

I love Huda Beauty on Instagram so much, she’s created an amazing brand and supports so many make-up artists and influencers which I think is amazing. I met her not long ago and she’s lovely!

Whose make-up would you love to do?

It’s got to be one of the Kardashians! Who doesn’t want to do a Kardashian’s make-up?!

What message do you hope your readers take away from the book?

I hope they can read the book and realise there’s really no rules when it comes to make-up and beauty.

crumbling- h.s imagine

You let out a sigh as you glanced at the clock hung up on the wall. Joanne, your marriage counselor stared at you with sympathy in her eyes. She reached out from across the table in between the two of you and placed her hand on top of yours, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m afraid our time is up.”

You looked down at your hands and shook your head. You let out a mumbled, “Thank you for your time” before you grabbed your purse and left her office. Joanne stared after you and let out a sigh herself. “Katy, grab my 1:00 appointment, please.” She called out to her assistant.

As you waited for your destination on the elevator, you pulled out your phone hoping to see something from Harry. When you were greeted with nothing, you pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tightly. As you sat in your car, you pulled out your phone once more and dialed a number you’ve been familiar with for the past couple of weeks.  “Hey Jake. Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’ll grab the papers today.”

Harry let out a curse as he saw the bedroom light was still on when he pulled up in the driveway. He was hoping you were asleep so he didn’t have to listen to you complaining about how he should’ve been there today. Harry tried to be there today, really he did. But he had to approve his album cover, he needed to put some last minute touches on some songs; he was a busy man today. Harry ran his hands through his hair as he debated whether or not he should pick up some flowers, just to soften the blow. He shook his head. He had to face the consequences that were yet to come.  

One word that you would use to describe your marriage with Harry was crumbling. It was amazing the first few years. Harry made you feel loved and made sure you were cherished. You made sure you showed Harry nothing but continuos support and just as much love. When the band split up, it was hard for Harry. One Direction was like his baby, it made him the man he is today. You remember how upset Harry was once the news broke to the fans. You remember Harry telling you that this changed everything. You remained positive for him. You told him things were going to be okay and that this was just a bump in the road. You made sure you told him that his fans were forever and they’ll love him no matter what he decides.

When Harry decided to audition for a movie role, you were nothing but excited for him. You made sure he was well rested before his audition and you made sure you helped him read his lines. When he got the role, you were dying of happiness. When he had to leave to film, you, being the supportive wife you were,  travelled alongside him. You dropped everything just to see your husband pursuing a new passion of his.

When Harry decided to go to Jamaica to focus solely on his debut album, you agreed. You told him that if he felt this was the right decision then this was the right decision.

You tried being the supportive wife. You tried lifting Harry’s spirits when your own was down. You tried reaming positive and just being what Harry needed during these crucial times in his life.

But you couldn’t say the same was being done for you. There were times when Harry wasn’t there for you for special events in your life like going back home to see your family or being your date for your sister’s wedding. There were times where you had doubts in your marriage and you tried. You tried so badly to remain optimistic. You tried telling yourself that he was busy with his album, you tried telling yourself that he was filming a movie and that he couldn’t drop everything. You tried putting your emotions aside in hopes of Harry never finding out how sad you were.

But you can only bottle up something so much that it just explodes.

Harry wiped his face before he leaned back on the couch. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs before he asked, “Are you asking for a divorce?”

You quickly looked up. “No! Never! I would never ask for a divorce.” You made your way over to Harry and sat down on his lap. You stared into his beautiful eyes that held nothing but sadness and tears. You gently whispered, “Something just needs to change.”

After that, the two of you decided it was best to seek a marriage counselor. It was definitely a hard choice to make but the two of you decided that it was best to talk out whatever problems there were then really letting things escalate. And going to couples therapy was great at first. The two of you felt like with time, things might actually turn around.

Until Harry started missing sessions. It was always one excuse after another. You tried to be forgiving and you tried to make it seem ok that he was missing the meetings but your heart broke more and more each time he skipped. It sucked being in that office yourself. You hated the feeling of your therapist staring at you with sympathy. You hated being asked why did you think Harry decided to bail. You hated every single minute of being there and feeling like you were alone. You hated that you were the one that put all the effort into this marriage. You hated that you had to remain brave. You hated crying alone. You hated the thought of Harry no longer loving you. You hated every single minute of it.

You were staring at your reflection in your sanity mirror in your shared bedroom with Harry. You noticed all the bags under your eyes and how puffy they were with how much you cried tonight. You wondered, “How did I get here? How could something that once was so beautiful crumble into something so tragic?” As you were pondering your thoughts, in the reflection you saw the bedroom door open. Harry had an ashamed look on his face.

He closed the door behind him before he turned to you. “Y/N, love, I’m so sorry.” You continued to stare at Harry. You bit on your bottom lip as you drowned at the pathetic excuse he was coming up with. Your eyes glanced at your wedding ring that was sitting in a little jewelry dish next to you. You let out a little scoff at how ironic it seemed to you. Isn’t that ring supposed to represent happiness? Yet all you felt was despair.

Hesitatingly. Harry walked closer to you. He tried to decipher what was going in that beautiful mind of yours. “Love?”

Slowly, you turned around in your seat. Your eyes were staring at Harry’s shoes, afraid that if you looked up into his eyes that the words would never fall out of your mouth. “I want a divorce.” You whispered.

You said it so quietly and so gently that you were sure Harry didn’t hear you. But the gasp that fell out of his lips proved otherwise. Harry bent down so that he was looking up at you. He placed his hands on top of yours. “Love, no.”

You shook your head as you closed your eyes, trying so badly to not let out a sob. Harry’s eyes started to fill with tears of his own. “Y/N! Please! I’ll change! I’ll go to the meetings! We can go every fucking day! Please!”

You let out a shaky sigh as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. Where was this when you needed to hear it the most? You finally looked into Harry’s eyes and completely lost it. You hated yourself for the hurt you saw in his eyes. “I’m not happy anymore, Harry.”

Hearing you say that felt like a direct bullet to Harry’s heart. He winced as if he was in actual pain. Hearing you say that meant he was a failure of a husband. He shook his head quickly, as if he was trying to get the thought out of his head. “You’re just upset with me and I get it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t mean it.”

You tried to defend your decision before Harry got up. He ran his hands through his hair. “We just need to sleep it off. You’re hurt, I’m hurt. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom, alright? We just need to sleep it off” Harry tried convincing himself. He bent down once more and placed a soft kiss on your lips before he walked out of your room.

You stared at the door before you wrapped your arms around yourself and let out the sob that was trying to read its way out.

That night was the quietest the house has ever been. Both you and Harry were laying in separate beds, wondering how your marriage got to this, while tears fled your eyes. Harry wanted to do nothing but hold you and to convince you that this was just another rough patch and that you guys were going to get through this. You wanted Harry to come to his senses when you said that you weren’t happy. You wanted him to realize that you’ve been trying for a very long time and that you couldn’t take it anymore.

The next morning, Harry walked downstairs and into the kitchen. You were sitting at the dining room table, a cup of tea in your hands. He noticed instantly how red your eyes were the puffiness of your cheeks. You looked up at Harry before you walked over to your purse that was on the counter. Harry was watching your every move intently, afraid to make a sound.

You pulled out the stack of papers that were weighing down your purse before you looked up at Harry. You placed the papers down on the table before you walked past him and went back into your room. With shaky hands, Harry picked up the papers. He let out a sob and fell to the floor.

You were filing for a divorce.


out of everything i’ve written recently, i actually really enjoyed writing this! it’s been in my drafts for the longest time and i’m glad im finally sharing it! let me know what you guys thought!

you can find all my writing here

Dreadneldritch

No pets were allowed on campus.

The freshman orientation guide was very, Very clear about this point. Absolutely, positively, no pets allowed. (minor exceptions to be made for service animals.) And yet here she was, 3 weeks into her first semester, sitting on the ground, staring at a cat. It was staring back.

Dread had always been fond of animals. She had never been allowed to have any pets, (her father was allergic to most things with fur, and her mother just hated animals) but she had always wanted a cat. Multiple cats, preferably. And now she was sitting on the steps of her dorm, in a college where No Pets Were Allowed, staring at the most precious little ball of fur she had ever set eyes on. She knew far too well about the other rules (she was on her second roommate, now, and the delicate horns curling from the thing-that-was-not-her-first-roommate’s face had left an… impression.) She was very good about remembering iron, salt, and not to say please or thank you. But this was a very cute cat, and she was willing to risk a little bit.

It meowed. She held out a hand, and it walked right up to her, and “oh my goodness you are just the cutest thing!” she squeaked. The cat seemed satisfied.

She was, to say the least, conflicted. The rules were very clear, and the rules were generally right, but this was a very small cat, and she did not have very many friends, and really, she already knew what she would do. “C’mere, you.” She scooped up the cat and it snuggled into her jacket. “I’m going to name you Eldritch.”

—-

It was about three weeks later that things got… actively weird. She had managed to smuggle in, via the Walmart (which had no employees that day, she left the money on the counter and hoped that nothing Else would take it) a litter box and cat food. Eldritch seemed to settle in fine, and she traded her roommate 3 dollars and a cool rock in return for not telling anyone about the very, very illegal pet currently snoozing on her lap. The roommate, whose name was Chalkboard, seemed to like the cat. Chalkboard even gave the cat a cat-toy. When Chalkboard vanished (decided to take the “fake your death to avoid breaking up with your s.o” advice a little too much to heart), Not-Chalkboard did Not like the cat. Dread caught Not-Chalkboard making what looked like a very rude hand gesture at the cat on multiple occasions, although it’s hands were strange and​ it was hard to be sure. It was when Not-Chalkboard, after having a Very Intense staring contest with the cat for about 6 minutes, saw the error of its ways and vanished, leaving Chalkboard in its place, that Dread began to think something might be up. Eldritch said nothing, as cats are wont to do, but it purred a great deal when Chalkboard let it sit on her lap while she was doing her homework. This was, to say the least, Rather Suspect. Nothing more was said about it.

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