someone tell me this is real

we carry tampons like concealed weapons

10 years old
First ever sex ed class
The girls and the boys are segregated into separate rooms
So there’s nothing to laugh that and so there’s nothing to blush at
Yet the entire student body still giggles in the halls when someone says the “p” word
Why is our genitalia a legend or a myth that doesn’t exist within the lockers of my PE class
My biology education was built on the foundation of whispered conversations passed down like a game of telephone
By the time the story gets to me it sounds like a skit with a laugh reel
And I can’t tell which story is real
Just a pre-adolescent trying to be present but at least I’m here

13 years old
On summer vacation one trip to the bathroom and now she’s a woman
A spot of red makes her face go red
and when she asks for advice someone slips her a flower patterned pencil bag to carry those tampons and pads in
It’s how our own mothers unintentionally shaming begins
Because everyone’s afraid to say vagina out loud
And because everyone’s using slang phrases and cute nouns in the place of that private body part
The one that’s only a part of our human anatomy
Vagina
You’d swear that those organs were so vulgar, the equivalent to a cuss word
Words so dirty not even our mouths want to hold them
Words we drop to the floor but there’s no five second rule here

16 years old
Leftover rumors from the soccer team that when your cherry pops it will be painful
Suddenly girls my age are giving blowjobs on prom night
I ask if that’s safe and they all roll their eyes
“It’s just oral”
And what’s confusing to me is being more OK with putting your face near a penis
When my high school never taught me how girls can feel pleasure
Please point to the diagram and tell me what a clit is
We have our driver’s license and have also been trained so discreetly to not let anyone know when our period is
Yet boys still claim PMS is the reason for our rage
And chocolate and ice cream can fix that
Close your ears and close your eyes
for this natural cycle is nasty
It’s bodily fluids coming out from “down there”
It’s the reason we carry tampons to restrooms like concealed weapons that don’t belong here

19 years old
If you haven’t had sex yet you’re probably a prude
Too naïve to let a man’s dick puncture your skin in the rhythm he decides
And yet everyone tells you it’s a good time
Bragging about bases and what positions you’ve tried
How come my own reproductive organs still feel like a mystery?

23 years old
Working in an office
80% male
She reaches in her purse pulls out a tampon and shoves it into her front pocket like she’s done 1000 times
How come being a woman feels like committing a crime?

(( We’ve just reached 500 followers. Like I said in a previous post, I’ll deal with that later, but let me just set a few things straight first.

Unfollow me and block me if you…
• Are a terf/believe that trans people are not their preferred gender.
•Are racist.
•Believe nonbinary people as well as ace/aro people are not real and/or not part of the LGBTQ+ community.
•Do not support the LGBTQIAPD+ community, or just in a much simpler term, if you do not respect the sexual preferences or gender orientations that people choose and prefer.
•If you are against the idea that all genders should have equal rights.
•Think it’s okay to tell someone to kill themselves.
•Think people with mental disabilities are automatically inhuman.

It’s important to me that people who support these things do not support this blog. ))

Teen French expressions

For if you want to make hip young friends.

Disclaimer: French people complain a lot. A lot. Don’t be surprised if 90% of these expressions are complaining.

  • Non mais oh - say this if someone does something mildly annoying and you want to express your shock and distaste.
  • Tu me fais chier - (alt. tu me fais chier, là.) literally ‘you make me shit’. means you’re pissing me off.
  • Carrément - translates to ‘squarely’. Means ‘literally’. If someone tells you something surprising or annoying, you can answer simply “ah carrément.” see: tu me fais carrément chier.
  • J’hallucine / je rêve - are you annoyed by something? say these.
  • C’est pas possible - a classic. anything bad happens - c’est pas possible. There is no cheese left? It’s not possible. I’m hallucinating. This is a burden on me that solely I can bear I cannot believe this is happening.
  • Ça commence à me gaver - I’m starting to get real sick of this. see: Ça commence carrément a me gaver , putain.
  • T’es relou - verlan slang for ‘lourd’ meaning someone’s heavy, personality-wise. They’re tedious.
  • Ça me saoûle / ça me gonfle - similar to gaver, means something’s pissing you off, you’re sick of it.
  • Grave - totally.
  • C’est clair - totally/that’s clear. Like ‘claro’ in spanish. “Justine elle est trop relou” “C’est clair. Elle me fait chier.”
  • J’en ai marre - I’m sick of this.
  • J’en ai ras le bol - I’m sick of this.
  • J’en ai ras le cul - I’m sick of this (vulgar).
  • (J’en ai) Rien à battre - I don’t give a damn.
  • (J’en ai) Rien à foutre - I don’t give a fuck.
  • C’est bon, là. -  That’s enough.
  • Perso, euh, - “Personally,” generally used at the start of a complaining sentence, to express how personal the matter is to you. Perso, euh, c’est bon là. J’en ai ras le cul.
  • Rôh là - general expression of distaste. Le longer the rôh, the more annoyed you are. Rôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôôh, c’est quoi ce bordel.
  • C’est quoi ce bordel ? - translates to “what’s this brothel”, means “what’s this shit?!”
  • C’est de la merde - It’s shit.
  • C’est une blague ? - Is this a joke?
  • Idem - ditto
  • J’ai la dal - I’m hungry
  • Ça caille - It’s freezing
  • Ouf - two meanings 1. phew or 2. verlan for “fou”, meaning crazy (as a noun or adjective). “Kévin, c’est un ouf! Il fait du vélo sans casque!” “Ouais carrément, c’était un truc de ouf!”
  • Kévin - there’s a running joke that all the young delinquents seem to be called Kévin.
  • Crever - slang for “to die”. Va crever, connard!
  • Connard/Connasse - c*nt, but a lot less vulgar in french peoples eyes

And finally,

T’es con. No English translation can express the power behind the words “t’es con”. While it may sort of translate to “you’re a c*nt/idiot”, it expresses something much deeper. You really are a god damn fool.

I’m tired.” she said. “I’m tired of pretending to feel empty about everything. I’m tired of laughing at people when they assumed that I don’t feel anything at all. Because of course, I feel something. I almost feel everything that it suffocates my whole being. I feel it when someone slowly losing interest in me as if they were clouds—fading in the sky during warm summer days. As if they were colors melting their brightest shades. I feel my heart breaking when someone continuously pointing out my mistakes that it erased all the right things I’ve ever done in my whole life. As if everything went blank, and I need to start doing something again that will make them proud. I feel people’s words touching what’s deep within me. Especially when they were the people who were important to me. Especially when they were the people who I always expected to understand the real me.” she looked down at her hands catching her breath heavily. She wasn’t used on opening up her heart to someone. She wasn’t used on telling everything that’s on her mind. Yet she knew, this was the best thing she needed to do. That this can ease the burdens she’s been lifting up for too long. She sighed slowly, then she said, “I just want you to know, that even if people tried to pretend that there’s a black hole inside of them, they will always end up touching their chests and feel their heart beating.
—  ma.c.a // Can you really see me?

Kids for the love of god stop putting depreciating little notes in your summaries on ao3.

  • if u tell someone something is,bad nine times out of ten, they’re going to believe you without looking at it
  • not to say “do as i say not as i do” but if you wouldn’t put up with behavior like what you’re doing to yourself if someone did it to your friend THINK REAL HARD ABOUT IT
  • YOU LISTEN TO ME. ITS NOT “AN AU NOBODY ASKED FOR”, ITS “I HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR AN ORIGINAL AU (or take on an AU lmao Shakespeare wasn’t original either) SO I WROTE IT.” HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY SOMEONE WHO IS HAVING A SHITTY DAY AND LOVES DOG GROOMER AUs. YOU JUST MADE THEIR DAY.

Vodka Auntie out OH PS if your mom is shitty or otherwise unavailable on Sunday for mothers day come hang out in my ask box

To my fake friends, thank you for showing me the value in understanding people for what they are. Thank you for taking all of my good qualities and turning them into something negative to fit your narrative. Whereas a real friend would see my effort not to judge others and allow others second chances as beautiful, you saw me as easy to manipulate and easy to control. Where a real friend saw my habit of ensuring our relationship is okay by asking honestly, “Are we okay?” when I sensed any sort of discomfort as honest and looking for a way to amend things if they were wrong, you saw it as a sign of weakness and instead, never told me until things came to a resentful head. Where the best of my friends would look at my habit of apologising and immediately trying to make amends as the quality of a kind and genuine person, you deliberately saw it as something to exploit by making me feel worse and worse every single day by never telling me what was wrong but bitching behind my back.


Initially you must have surprised me.


Your kindness, or your (false) giving nature, something about you must have truly made me think the world of you. You see, I’m the kind of person who will love you genuinely or not love you at all. I don’t play games of in-betweens and I certainly don’t pretend to be friends with someone if they are not someone I care about. The truth is, without you, I would not know who my real friends are, nor how to value them. I would not have learned that some people thrive on being unkind. I would not know how to handle those who look for reasons to dislike me, rather than the other way around. I never understood insecurity for what it was. Because I am a highly self critical person and tend to focus on what I have done wrong rather than anyone else.


Without you, I could not have learned how to look outside and understand that other people are flawed too.


I would not know how to stop being so hard on myself. I would not grow from being a people pleaser to choosing the people I love carefully and with consideration. You taught me how to appreciate that I am a person worthy of love, and forgiveness and kindness, by treating me the opposite way. You taught me strength by showing me that when I was in my greatest pain, the person I needed to rely on most was myself because you were only going to be unkind and orchestrate more pain in my life.


Thank you for that. Thank you for every lesson you have taught me. Because I could not be prouder of who I am today, and it is you that I have to thank for that

—  Nikita Gill, A Thank You To My Fake Friends
8

John Boyega on Kelly Marie Tran: I love her. I love her. I think she’s fantastic. But she’ll tell her own story. I feel it’s always weird or wrong for someone the world hasn’t met, for me to come and start talking about her. (…) She’s great. She’s freaking great, and I love her. I freaking love her. She’s fantastic. Seriously. She’s changed a lot in terms of perspective on chemistry and industry. She’s a real cool girl. It’s a friendship thing in the sense of you meet someone and you’re just like, “I vibe with you. I feel like I’ve known you for years.” And that’s a very, very good thing.

SJM Baltimore Book Event

Some notes from the questions portion of tonight’s event!

She is a proud hufflepuff bc of the common room, husband is Gryffindor

She would be in the Night Court bc she hates the sun

Cassian is Gryffindor
Azriel is ravenclaw
Elain hufflepuff
Nesta syltherin
Amren slyth/claw
Mor is Gryffindor
Rhys is slytherin
Feyre is hufflepuff (she literally said slytherpuff)

Unsung hero of acotar is Suriel!!!

Favorite power is Helion’s libraries

Mates can be same gender, as we saw in ACOWAR

Inspiration for Rhys is not her husband!!! They are both tall and handsome with dark hair, but rhys and Feyre’s bond *is* inspired by their relationship. Rhys also walked into her head like aelin and became Sarah’s second husband.

Lorcan vs Cassian, we win and they draw. They would fight to a stalemate then go get a beer and bond over lady problems. Then likely go to the Spring Court and start trouble.

Rhys vs Fenrhys are equally attractive, depends on preference.

Jamie (from Outlander) and Rhys would be friends but would be constantly in silent competition with each other.

(Always imagines rain clouds and white tee shirt contests with her guy characters, and abs)

She is more like feyre on her quiet days, more like aelin on most days, but identifies most with Fleetfoot.

Her deadlines are plotted out for years, so she has no option but to sit and write. Writing is a muscle that needs to be used and built. Her advice to aspiring writers is to not listen to the people who tell you to write something “serious or a real book.” If someone says “you can’t” tell them “watch me,” at least in your head. Keep your goal as your focus. Find the time and write. Do it!!!! Treat it seriously.
She would sit down everyday and write, even if it’s only 10 minutes a day. It’s the only way to get it done.

Quoted A League of Their Own, said that if it wasn’t hard everyone would do it. You have to hustle.

Each spinoff will be a stand alone novel and follow a different pairing in each. They will all eventually be connected in the end.
One might be a snow queen retelling. One might be a Russian/swan lake retelling but at this point she won’t give more details than that yet.

TOD runs parallel to EOS, it’s a “meanwhile on the southern continent.” Wrote 20,000 words in the first day and was chater 4. 193,000 words later and it’s the same length as EOS.
The timeline lines up perfectly. Nesryn, Chaol, and Irene plotlines and pov.
TOD never feels like work and is as close to her heart as HOF was. Is excited every time she reads it and edits. She was excited to expand on the TOG world. The southern continent is highly influenced by the Mongolian empire.
She is a huge G. Khan fangirl.

READ TOD BEFORE FINAL TOG. Major game changers and reveals, it all weaves together.

Editor who read TOD for review hated Chaol going into TOD, but she came out loving Chaol after.
SJM loves the journey and she cried a lot working on the book.

She reccomends Black Dagger Brotherhood series. Post ACOWAR read the Fever series (blonde southern girl tries to solve her sister’s murder). Star Touched Queen.

Her patronus (she wanted hers to be a velociraptor), she got an akami (sp?), the feathery-serpant creature from fantastic beasts.

someone: hey, i found this cool beatles shirt at h-

classic rock fan: The Beatles?? 🍏🍏 Yeah right 😂😂 I bet 💵 You couldn’t even tell me 🔊 The exact birth date and time 🕛 Of each of their kids 👶❗Smh 😩😂 Fake fans 😷 Can go listen to their Justin Direction “"Music”“ 😭😂 I know what REAL music is 🎶🔥You’ll never 🚫 Be good enough for The Whomst’ve'i’d'st'es’ve 💯💯 Old men do it better 😉👴😍

Send Nude Pics of Your Heart to Me

James Potter to Mrs. Wife: lily can we have another baby?

Lily Potter to Wears Socks to Bed: R u going to text me that every time Harry does something cute?

James Potter: yes

Lily Potter: U know if we got one every time u asked we’d have like 35 babies by now??

James Potter: i’d be okay with that

James Potter: they might give us our own tv programme

James Potter: lil and jim and their kin 

Lily Potter: Ur right what’s the point of having children if not to pimp them out for reality television

Keep reading

→ nudes, not flowers (pt. 1)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

☆ pairing → Hoseok x reader x Jungkook

☆ genre → fuckboi!au, smut 

warning  public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!junghope, demeaning names during sex if you aren’t into that, jealousy

☆ word count   → 5.5k

summary   → you’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines – but you do. the problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps 

→  pt i | pt ii

a/n  → …. why tf did i do this to myself!!! (this is just smut that i had to split into two parts rip)
anyways tagging @kstopping @gxtsmxt @thotmi bc nothing says i love you like a junghope smut am i right



Keep reading

I’ll always advocate for stimming and stim blogs being available to all neurodivergent people, and I still don’t really care if they’re available to everyone.

But I have seen a few people talking about stimming without a clear understanding/clearly not having spent time around tumblr’s autistic community.

“Stim” is not a synonym for “aesthetic.” It doesn’t mean “anything I happen to enjoy.”

Stimming is a real thing with meaning. A lot of stim blogs have an FAQ explaining what stimming is. Please read them, or ask someone like me, rather than making up a definition and telling it to other people when you don’t have an understanding.

I genuinely mean this in the gentlest way.

I’m now entering my third semester of my second year college, and I think I’ve gathered enough experience in college to give relevant tips to incoming freshmen or just regular old college students. I’m not an expert in getting all As, not getting those 4.0s in every subject, but I have maintained my place as a Dean’s Lister since my first sem freshmen year, so I think I do have an idea on what I’m talking about. Feel free to take my advice! (or not).

homework/projects
1. seriously, once you get information on your homework/project, start them immediately. DO NOT wait till last minute to complete them because you will regret it. Do them as soon as the professor assigns it to you so you won’t spend the next few weeks stressing out on the amount of homework you have.

2. start creative projects first. unless you can pull creativity out of your hat whenever you need it, I highly suggest you start creative projects as soon as  you get them because trust me when I say you do not want to be decorating/designing shit when the due date is tomorrow.

3. do your best in every assignment; trust me, the points will count at the end of the semester.

4. do extra credit work and treat it as priority work; excess points are cushion points. 

5. group projects suck but here’s a good rule to keep in mind: if you’re the leader, delegate those tasks (read up on division of labor). if you’re a group member, do the delegated task as best as you can. know your goal as a group; are you guys in it to get to know each other and build rapport? then the output won’t matter as much and focus on helping and getting to know each other. Is the output the most important part? Then be real with each other; if you can’t do this task, then don’t do it & instead give it to someone else. Some may not even get any work at all, because what matters is the output. 


friends/other people/professors
1.  keep your circle small. your friends are there to guide you, support you and tell you when you’re wrong. find the crowd you vibe with the most because trust me, the right friends are medicine to all college problems

2. those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. keep that in mind, my dear.

3. love the professor? do your best in their class. hate the professor? do your best in their class. it doesn’t matter whether you hate the prof or not; they still hold your grade at the end of the semester. if you really can’t stand them, just think of it as training your ability to be humble (and not punch someone).

4. talk to your professors. they’re not as bad as you think they are.

5. seriously, go to their consultation hours when you think you’re failing. 


class/notes
1. TAKE NOTES. cannot emphasize this enough. don’t rely on anyone to take your notes for you; it’s your education, it’s time you take responsibility for it.

2. sit in front of class if you believe you’ll get distracted if you sit in the back. 

3. talk to your seatmate! you’ll need them when you get sick and can’t come to class.

4. again, TAKE NOTES. don’t photograph the slide. write that shit down, or type it if you don’t want to write. bottom line, don’t picture it. 

5. revise, revise, revise. if you want to understand the material, a good way to go about it is to revise your notes in a way YOU can understand.


having fun/relationships
1. have fun! i was too stressed when I was a freshman all because I focused too much on getting 4.0s. It’s possible to get 4.0s and still have fun! having fun doesn’t need to be about drinking (although if it is, then stay safe doing it!) it could be reading a book or hanging out with your friends, whatever works for you and keeps your mind off school for awhile.

2. it’s okay to have crushes! they could be your inspiration (but don’t let them be your distraction)

3. talk to that cute guy you’ve been classmates with ever since February who you can’t stop looking at. you’ve got nothing to lose.

4. relationships are a good source of support, love and care but pls don’t forget your friends.

5. learn how to have fun, and college will be easier. 

Reminder: having fun does not equal to slacking off.

I guess that’s it! If you guys want more tips/advice/academic or college realted, I can write more or you can just hit up my ask! 

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

A few years ago, I worked giving out samples at Costco for a year, and these were the best/weirdest things that happened to me:

Around Halloween, a man and woman walked by my cart, with a little boy who was crying as if he was losing part of his soul. They all had strong and beautiful Indian accents. The man said, “Son, what’s wrong? Son, what’s bothering you?” and his wife sighed and said, “He thinks we won’t let him be a ladybug for Halloween.” The father straightened up and said, “Son, of course you can be a ladybug! You can be whatever you want!” and they slowly got the boy to stop crying. It was one of the most heartwarming moments I’ve ever seen.

An elderly man with a long and greasy beard stole my opened bottle of Tabasco sauce that I was using, and proceeded to tilt it over his mouth and drink as much as he could. He then made a noise like “Whee-hee!” and said, “You can’t say you’re from Georgia, unless you can do that!” while I stared on with a horrified face.

(I’m not even in Georgia, and now, I hope to never be.)

A cart rushed by me, two children clinging to the sides of it, and a third pushing it as the other two yelled, “Faster, faster!” A minute later, a very frazzled mother ran in and said, “Have you seen my children?!” I pointed, and she ran off again.

A toddler chose me specifically to tell a story to, about how one time he went to a swimming pool, and there was a slide he really liked, and he went down it a bunch of times. His mom gave me a look of “I’m so sorry,” as the kid spoke, but she should not have been sorry. It was awesome.

A middle-aged man in a suit tried convincing me (while I was shutting down my cart and trying to avoid him) that Obama was the Antichrist, and that the whole world was run by someone called “The Black Pope” who was baptizing space aliens, and that’s why he liked Mitt Romney better. I countered by telling him that Mitt Romney’s real first name is “Willard,” and that made him dumbfounded enough that I could escape and clock out.

one of the many reasons I love got7 so much is even though they’re close to each other they don’t have to fake their friendships and they don’t hide the fact that they don’t get along with each other sometimes