this is going to be the cover of the poem book

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

“Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.

And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.”

— 
Hannah Baker, 13 Reason’s Why

“Are You A Feminist?”


I am five years old. My mother just told me to go fetch a sweater because an adult man would be coming over soon, and I need to cover up.

I am seven years old. A boy wouldn’t stop chasing me on the playground and throwing rocks at me. I’m upset. My best friend says it’s because he likes me and she told me boys are mean to girls they like.

I am ten years old. We just had our first health class in school. The teachers were trying to educate us on sexual assault. After class, my friends told me to scream fire instead of rape if I’m ever being attacked, because no one will come if they hear the word rape being screamed.

I am twelve years old. I just got my first period. A pad fell out of my book bag at school and everyone started laughing. Apparently, periods aren’t normal and they should be hidden at all costs.

I am fifteen years old. I’m in the office crying because a boy I don’t know kept following me down the hallway and grabbing my ass even after I told him to stop. The administrator scolds me.
“maybe you shouldn’t be wearing leggings if you don’t want that kind of attention”
she sends me home with a dress code violation. She marked the “distracting” box.

I am seventeen years old. I’ve just been slapped because a boy got angry with me after I wouldn’t let him put his hands down my pants. Apparently, I led him on by letting him copy my math assignment.

I am twenty-one years old. My best friend has bought me special nail polish to wear to the bar. She says it changes color if it’s dipped in a drink that has a date rape drug in it.

I am twenty-three years old. I’m reading this to the first class I will ever teach. A student raises her hand and says, “no offense, but doesn’t this stuff happen to every girl?”


So yes, I am a feminist. And when you ask me why, I will read this to you. Again, and again, and again.

—  v.j.v
shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

R O M A N C E (poem about glamourising mental-health)

• R O M A N C E •


don’t make it sound romantic,
It’s like drowning in the Atlantic,
it’s not a fan-fic,
I can’t stand it,
so now I’m ranting,
and the notion,
of this emotion is rancid,

OCD is a never-solving riddle,
I don’t ‘wash my hands a little’
or put my stationary in the middle,
it’s bigger than an acronym,
it’s not fun, a fad, that’s rad,
it’s telling my mum and dad,
that the kid they had
is sad,
and quietly going mad;

it’s pills and fluoxetine,
being eighteen, nineteen,
quiet screams,
and routines,
than you follow like an order,
clean your phone, your glasses,
your school bag,
your schoolwork goes in the bin,
because you don’t like who touched it
and now you’re failing all of your classes,
time passes,
and this illness harasses
you
like a person on the street
a bully at your feet,
makes you retreat

so you have social anxiety right?
but you’re at a party every Saturday night,
when there’s people who might,
not even go to the store because they’re afraid of the line,

OCD is being constantly indescive
a “where shall I sit?”
when a phobia becomes violent,
and you can’t make up your mind
about where your mind is,

when your body is a canvas and you paint in red,
wear long-sleeves in the summer,
to cover where razors bled,
kissed your skin and fled,
and now you can’t get out of bed
but at least self-harm,
gets you out of your head,

being depressed isn’t being tired
it’s an anchor in your chest,
bulimia isn’t pretty,
it’s sickly,

and imitating false anorexia
doesn’t make you sexier,
but don’t say it’s for boys to text you,

it’s not an attribute
it’s a weapon, a noose,
do you also find knives attractive?

social media is interactive
but it can hold you captive,
don’t adapt to it,

don’t make it glamorous,
your illness is not a model,
it doesn’t pout for cameras,

a panic attack
is a blood curdling scream
that no-one hears,

and I’m not trying to offend,
I just want to comprehend
How my worst nightmare, become my generations trend?

maybe we’re shining a spotlight on this and diluting the stigma,
or maybe the whole thing has just become an enigma,
a balancing act, where no-one can say the right thing, so we all just stay silent,

I’m not an advocate
who wants you to cut,
and please nourish yourself
don’t starve and punish yourself,

it’s not a game, it’s not playground fun,
a trigger isn’t just something on the architecture of a gun,

it is not a small irritation,
frustration,
it’s not an infatuation
you use to impress your generation

I’m tired of these stereotypical claims,
categories and lanes,
young adult novel popularity
where the girl is just something to save
when she’s a slave,
to the way
her mind behaves,

I lost the best years of my life to these chains,
and I refrain from ever falling into that rabbit hole again,
just because tumblr taught me to glorify my pain,
I write poems on there too,
but they’re a helping hand
not a brand,
I wear because it’s cool

the real victims lost their voices,
so you can call this a mouthpiece,
bipolar disorder is not being moody,
it’s not some alternative niche,

I collapsed in my bathroom,
have metal plates in my jaw,

so it’s important to speak while you can,
turn a whisper into a roar.

Dear future daughter,


I wanted to write this as a sort of time capsule, so that you would know how your mother was at sixteen and what I expect of you as my daughter.

I love music and singing, and I expect I’ll put you for music classes early on, unless you don’t like singing and composing which is completely okay.
You can quit and join karate or anything you want.
I won’t force you, instead I’ll let you find your own path in life, like my mom let me.

You wanna ride horses? Cool. I liked that too.
You wanna go for kickboxing and learn how to defend yourself? Cool.
You wanna do ballet and enthrall the audience with your magnificent coordination? Amazing.

Anything you want to do babe, I am hundred percent right behind you.

I am big on reading as well, and this may sound odd, but unlike dancing or singing, I would very much adore it if you loved reading as much as me.
I will introduce it gently of course, by telling you adventure stories I wrote for you, about bears and fairies, and any thing you like.
Then I would introduce all sorts of new books, the same ones my mom introduced to me,Malory Towers, St. Claires, Tin-Tin’s, Secret Seven and so on.
If you don’t like reading, I understand.
I hope you do, though.

I am really sorry but you may or may not have my acne.
I am so sorry, I know how much you suffer trying to talk to that cute boy who’s the next Zac Efron, or how hard you try to cover it up.
Or how much you cry over something that someone said about your skin.
I wish I could change things in that department but I can’t. You have combination skin just like me, and it only gets better everyday, and soon enough a beautiful sense of maturity and compassion will bloom, like those Violets you adore.

You might deal with a lot of appearance issues, and trust me, even all the way back in 2017, we still have them.
Let me tell you this, your weight is just the relationship you have with gravity.
It doesn’t define your intellect, beauty, the amount of love you can give to the universe around you.
W=m x g
That’s all weight is.
So eat that pizza, gobble that pancake and never starve yourself.
I am not saying don’t be healthy and exercise, oh no, but its okay to be kind to yourself once in a while.

Career.
Tricky.
I am not going to say I am not going to behind your grades, or behind you to keep them up, but I will give you a chance to improve if you mess up, which you will and thats okay.
That’s life.
To me, do what you love.
Do something that keeps you happy, something that keeps you interested.
Do something that makes you excited to walk into work.
I hope I am doing the same honestly.
To me, education is not just about books and grades, and the colleges you get into.
I’ve probably taken you to so many places in the world, and all that you’ve learned, all the food you’ve eaten, all the cultures you’ve experienced, that is what you have truly experienced. Of course, it won’t pay your bills and it sure as hell won’t help you get to college, but it will make you better citizens of this earth, better human beings, more accepting, less judgmental.

Love.
Oh my, honey, you are going to fall so hard.
For a broken boy with broken promises.
With the talented singer.
With the most popular boy in school.
With someone half way across the world.

In the end, after everyone, you will realize you don’t need to settle for someone who makes you feel terrible about yourself, you just need someone who treats you like the princess you are.
Trust me, its not the prettiest or the most popular that gets to be the keeper of your precious heart.

Of course, if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship, that’s great.
You’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anyone to tell her how downright amazing she is.
(feminist alert! haha)

Trust me.
They are going to break you, shatter you, make you feel like you can never love again.
You will love again though.
Again and again.

(You can change the genders above to suit you)
I expect by the time you are old enough to realize who you love, who you’re attracted to, it won’t matter.
I hope for Goodness sakes, we live in progressive times.
If we don’t, I will love you no matter what, if you’re bi, demi, gender fluid or anyone.
I will love you the same.
Coming out will be the easiest thing you will ever have to do, I promise.

Religion
Well, I am an agnostic, but if you decide that you want to follow a religion I will allow it.
Preferably Hinduism because that would make my mom and dad, (your grandma and grandpa happy) but if its Buddhism, Christianity or any religion, be my guest.
Explore, decide and tell me.
I will respect you if you decide to believe in a higher power, because I think that takes a certain amount of strength.

I might get mad at you, scream, cry and you have to realize I am not perfect.
Far from it.
I just want you to be a nice, respectful and loving human being.
Your grades and talents are secondary to me.
Sure I might not buy everything you want me to, but I promise I will provide you with everything you need.

I need to leave now, but it’s been great getting to know you,
this is sixteen year old me signing out.

Teacher (M)

Plot: Maybe asking your Korean teacher for help wasn’t such a bad idea. Good grades weren’t the only thing you were going to achieve from that.

Pairing: Teacher! Jung Hoseok x Student! reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Oral (receiving), Moaning denial, just full-on hardcore Jung Hoseok the sexy beast

Note: This is probably the first time I’m actually posting smut. It took me quite a while to write, considering it was very long, and I need to be in a certain mood for it. Thank you to my friend for giving me this idea. Please forgive me if there are any errors, english isn’t my first language. 3657 Words

P.S. You are 19 in this, and Hoseok is 25. I do not support all that underage sex stuff. Everything here is legal (wrong – please don’t fuck your teacher no matter how hot he is – but legal).

Korean Literature was probably your least favorite subject. You hated just everything about it – well – excluding the teacher. He always greeted you with a smile, asked you if you wanted help. You were the only foreigner in the class, after all. He gave you so much special attention, and you wouldn’t mind it at all. Unfortunately, that didn’t change your view on the subject. No matter how hard you tried, you always got a low grade.

“Okay students, remember we have a test on the new poem this Friday,” His voice echoed through your ears, breaking you out of your trance.

There was a solemn look on your face, while you stared out the window. Your eyes stayed on the uniformed kids flooding out of the school gates, while your nail dug under the staple holding your latest spelling test together.

5 out of 10. It was better than the last one.

No matter how bad it got, you always had this urge to try. You always wanted to keep studying for a higher score, but you just never seemed to understand everything that was thrown at you. It was like everything registered into your brain, but it never stayed – it disappeared, unlike your determination to do well.

As your eyes flickered over to the teacher, a nervous feeling settled in your chest. You now stayed after school for that exact reason. A few days ago, Hoseok had offered to help tutor you for an hour everyday until the test. It had been at least a week since he started, and you could safely say that you were getting better.

“Are you ready to start?” 

“Yeah.”

Keep reading

Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

Keep reading

“I promise to hold you when you’re cold or when you just want to be held.

I promise to always kiss you goodbye.

I promise to take you on cute dates. Museums, concerts, fancy restaurants and the shitty ones too.

I promise to surprise you with flowers or your favorite candy.

I promise to kill the spiders although I’m terrified of them as well.

I promise to always touch you gently.

I promise to listen to you.

I promise to hold your hand when someone stares at you for too long.

I promise to never go a day without telling you how indescribably beautiful you are, and how insanely lucky I am to call you mine.

I promise to always encourage you and your singing, I promise to always be your #1 fan.

I promise to be there on days you cry whenever you are reminded by the fact that your mom gave up on you so easily, and how she was embarrassed by the fact that you love me.

I promise to work everyday to be a better person, for you and for myself. I want you proud of me.

I promise to never force you on rollercoasters no matter how much I want to see your face on one.

I promise to write about you, you’re my inspiration.

I promise to watch Spongebob with you when you’re in a bad mood and you’re just wanting a laugh.

I promise to make stupid jokes so I can see your beautiful smile.

I promise to take pictures of you doing absolutely nothing because thats all it takes for you to be the most captivating human I’ve ever known.

I promise to carry you when you don’t feel like walking.

I promise to jump in front of anyone who tries to hurt you.

I promise to watch your chick flicks, they annoy me, but you don’t.

I promise to tease you just to see you pout so I can kiss your pouty lips and see you smile afterwards. Knowing I have that power, is the most rewarding thing.

I promise to sing to you although I sound like shit.

I promise to put my book down whenever you’re wanting to talk. My attention is yours whenever you want it.

I promise to always defend you.

I promise to wait for you. People say its too hard on your heart, but whats harder is imagining my life without you in it.

I promise to be open with you about how I feel even if its hard for me. You taught me to lay everything out there because I don’t know when I’ll ever have that chance again.

I promise to be different from every other person you’ve ever known, every person thats walked out on you.

I promise to tell everyone I come across how lucky I am to simply know you.

I promise to love you unconditionally.

I promise to be your safe place forever.

I promise to never make you feel like your feelings are invalid.

I promise to remember every important date of ours.

I promise to kiss every place you’re insecure about.

I promise you that every lyric, every person I come across, every sunset, will remind me of you when I go days without speaking to you. I miss you so much that I look for you in everything I see.

I promise to be 100% without a doubt, completely yours.

I promise to never give you a reason to not trust me.

I promise to play the guitar for you even with my slight fear of playing in front of people.

I promise to always make sure you’re warm.

I promise that you’re safe as long as you’re with me.

I promise to call you randomly when I miss your voice.

I promise to make life fun, so be ready for adventures, memories, and more memories.

I promise to give you your space whenever you want it.

I promise to write you cute poems, and give you a lot of forehead kisses.

I promise to rub your arm with my thumb because I know how much you love it.

I promise to brush your hair whenever you get out of the shower if you’re too lazy to.

I promise to go out of my way to make sure you feel safe all the time.

I promise to love you so much it makes people sick.

I promise to watch scary movies with you that I’ve already seen so I can cover your eyes when I know a scary part is coming up.

I promise to be grateful for your love every single day.

I promise you that I won’t give up.”

—  I’ll be here when you come back

Dirty, Pretty Things

Hey guys! I hope that everyone is having a supremely good day today! I’m sorta shy to post this because I’ve never written a sexy-time before, but I gave it a go lol. Basically, Tom and the reader go to the library and Tom gets a little frustrated by the book the reader picks out for him, and then, sexy-time ensues. I hope you like it!

Dirty, Pretty Things

He had lost her within the sea of words that had engulfed them both.

When Tom had first entered the grand library, the sight of so many shelves completely drenched in knowledge blew his eyes wide open. She, on the other hand, had immersed herself, diving in and out of shelves quickly, and coming out with towering stacks of novels. Tom watched, hands in his pockets, as she piled the literature as high as it could go without falling.

Grabbing her readings, he moved them to a secluded corner, where he sat down on the floor to wait for her to come back to him.

As she fluttered about, rushing in between sections and up and down staircases, her skin gave off a soft sheen of champagne that he knew came from her ridiculously expensive highlighter. The heels of her boots tapped anxiously across the floor. Sounding as though they were afraid they’d only be granted a set amount of time to wander through the library. The straps of the dress his girlfriend wore began to slip off her shoulders and she failed to fix them to their proper place again. When she bent down, Tom noticed that her position revealed a more than generous amount of her legs. He bit his lip and tried to ignore how alluringly endearing she looked.

Tom loved to watch her like this. She looked incredibly at home nestled inside the library’s massive selection of books. She wasn’t worried about other people, or how they could be perceiving her. Instead, her only focus was on choosing the best and most interesting novel to read.

After about forty minutes, she finally came back to him, carrying four more books in her hands.

“I picked some out for you to read as well,” she said, nestling decisively underneath his arm.

Due to the spot Tom had secured, she was sat directly next to the left corner of the wall with Tom cuddled into her right side. Tom beamed at her and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her lips. “What did you get for me darling?”

“Well, firstly, I grabbed you the first Harry Potter book because I think that it’s absolute insanity that you haven’t read it yet. Then, I grabbed Horns and The Shining, in case your in the mood for horror, but, if all else fails, maybe you could try Hidden Bodies or Dirty, Pretty Things?” She began to ramble on about why she had selected each novel and then stopped short. “Oh, shit, I should go back and bring you Fight Club, I really think that-.” Tom quickly wrapped an arm around her middle, securing her back down on the floor.

“No, no, I’m excited to read Dirty, Pretty Things. That’s the poetry book you’ve been off about with Kaylee, right? I want to read that one.” Tom watched her pull the thin, pink book out of the stack to hand to him.

She looked shy handing it over to him. As soon as his hands slid over the front cover, she quickly interjected, “you may not like it, but the words are just lovely and they make me,” she stopped short and shuddered.

Tom quirked a brow, “oh yeah? Better get started then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rustled her hair.

Tom watched as she leaned forward and bit her lip, trying to decide what she wanted to read first. Eventually, she settled on A Tale For the Time Being and curled up against his chest.

Tom’s eyes skimmed over poem after poem, and he began to understand why she spoke so much about it, just not directly to him. The book was written about love, and carnal attraction and she was forever timorous.

The poetry in Dirty, Pretty Things was beginning to get to him, especially when he thought about her reading it. Michael Faudet’s words were dulcet and enticing, and Tom imagined whispering them softly into her ear, as he slipped his hands up her skirt.

Tom’s mind briefly wandered to her getting off on the words within the book and had to stop for a few seconds to recompose himself. He glanced down at her. The words on the page of her book seemed to leap and dance off the page, mocking him for being of more interest to her than he was. Shaking his head, he tried not to look at the uncovered, sweet smelling, perfumed, skin of her chest. Going back to his own book, he attempted to allow the book’s poetry to command his full attention once again.

The first poem Tom encountered as he flipped the page nearly killed him. He stopped breathing and read over the words three more times before letting out a shaker gasp.

The only words on the page were, “Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.”

Tom looked from the poem to her, then again and again before he felt his jeans getting even tighter than they were before. This had to be a sign. Shit, they were in a library, surrounded by books, all alone in a dimly lit corner of the library. Not to mention, books and literature were her favorite things in the word. She had told him a while ago that the best compliment she’d ever received had been from slew of teachers who had all insisted that she had the best taste in books they’d seen in a long time. Michael Faudet’s words were taunting him.

“Baby,” he started, gently tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’m bored.”

She frowned, “do you not like the book because I can go and grab you another, or maybe-,” Tom cut her short by sliding a soft hand across her throats to sweep her hair off her shoulder.

“Let’s trade. You can read Dirty, Pretty Things out loud to me. I’m sleepy and I wanna listen to you read the poems.” Tom gently guided his book into her palms.

She flushed red and stuttered for a minute. “Tom, I can’t.

“Why not?” He countered.

“You’ve read it,” She muttered, looking away from him. “The words are libidinous.”

Tom brought her eyes back to his and licked his lips before he spoke. “I wanna hear you read them darling.” He moved to kiss the spot just below her lips. Tom dared lower and lower, tangling his hands in her hair as he went. When he reached her collarbones, she finally snapped.

Letting out an airy sigh, she gasped out, “fine Tom.”

He smirked and placed a final kill on the base of her throat and corrected his posture so that he was sitting with his arms protectively circling her frame.

She moved to flip to the next page when Tom interrupted her. “Do you mind reading from the beginning? I wanna hear it all in your voice.”

Narrowing her eyes, she flipped back to the first page and began to read. As she read through the first few poems, Tom’s hands began to totter.

First, he slipped them up and down her arms, feigning an effort to keep her warm. Then, he began to give her small kisses on the forehead, cheek, neck and hand. She looked at him, slightly confused as to why he’d ask her to read out loud if he wasn’t going to pay attention.

Nevertheless, she kept reading.

As she flipped the page, her breathing was cut short. Tom knew exactly which poem she’d stumbled across. “Sweetheart, do you want to play a game?” Tom asked her, his voice rough and low in her ear.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed cherry red as she managed to stutter out a few syllables.

“How about I tell you the rules first?” He paused briefly, and then began to talk. “The book you’ve chosen for me has actually proven itself to be quite the naughty thing and I think that you gave it to me on purpose. Since you like to play so many little games instead of just telling me directly what you want, I think that maybe I’ll give games a go too.” Tom stopped to look at her again. Her pupils had consumed the typical color of her eyes and her hands were slightly shaking. Taking them within his own, he kissed the backs of both of her hands.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d very much like to reenact that poem. You are the book that I’ve been dying to read.”

Her eyes shut and she bit her lip to contain the moan threatening to slip past.

“Here’s the catch though, I still want you to read to me. If you stop reading out loud, I’ll stop what I’m doing and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Tom peppered her neck with open mouthed kisses.

She nodded her head, eyes still shut tight.

“No, darling, I need verbal consent, just to be sure.” Tom continued his assault on her neck.

Her eyes finally snapped open and she rolled her head around to look directly into Tom’s eyes. “Please.” She whispered.

With that, Tom smirked and lifted the hem of her dress and slipped his hand further up her thighs.

Her voice shook, “the kind of love letter I write are the ones you read in bed, stretched out beneath the sheets with one hand between your legs.”

Tom pressed his mouth to her and she convulsed against his lips, gasping out the words to the next line.


She was so absorbed by you,
by your thoughts and your ideas,
so full of you, full of your habits,
that she totally forgot about herself,
you were covering her soul with those clouds of yours,
all gloomy and heavy,
she did not know who she was anymore,
but when you left,
you took back all your clouds,
and then the sun came to her,
everything inside of her flourished,
her thoughts sang her favorite songs,
her mind laughed at her father’s jokes,
her heart danced and danced and danced,
her soul smiled, because she knew,
even the moon has clouds,
but it doesn’t stop her from lighting up the sky every night.
— 

http://writies.tumblr.com/

you go girl, you light up this world

Headlines read: POKÉMON GO AWAY; POLICE ISSUE WARNING NOT TO POKÉMON AND DRIVE;  MAN QUITS JOB TO CATCH POKÉMON FOR TWO MONTHS

My mother sees this and shakes her head. My friends squabble about it. Internet comments read: you all need to get a life, aren’t you too old to play children’s games, wish millennials would hunt jobs instead of imaginary animals, I’m so ashamed of this generation

I’m so in awe of this generation and everything it has to carry. I am stunned by the way we persevere, by the way we find comfort and peace in such small packages. MAN QUITS JOB TO CATCH POKÉMON. Man indulges in nostalgia. Man leaves home, travels. Man pursues happiness, finds it in strange places.

Pokémon: Indigo League aired in 1999 on Kids’ WB. Picture: an alarm set, two pairs of tired eyes, TV trays and cereal, volume low because mom’s sleeping off her night shift at the bar, theme song lyrics printed out and sitting on the floor. I was eight. I never recall my father in these memories. He’d either already left or I’ve blocked out his face the same way my mom used family photos to cover up fist-sized holes in the walls.

Pokémon Silver and Gold were released in the US in 2001. Picture: anthrax, terror alerts, news footage looping, smoke and screaming, teachers crying in classrooms, the way fear can permeate an entire country and my small body the same way without ever having to name a reason out loud. I was ten. I was scared all the time, but I was also spending my weekends running around outside with my brother and the neighbor boy, throwing imaginary Poké Balls at squirrels.

It’s not that I didn’t know what was going on. It’s just that sometimes when things are loud or angry or hard, especially when you’re young, the best thing you can do is keep your head down.

2016: terrorism, police brutality, student loan debts, depression, anxiety, Brexit, the US political landscape. Pokémon Go begins rolling out its release around the world and there are days, at twenty-five, that I still need to keep my head down. I know there is immense privilege in being able to put the rest of the world on hold for a while, to step back from the things that hurt us; but I also know this brief respite is important. Whether it’s turning off the news for a few days or reading a book or taking a vacation or augmented reality as self care. It is hard to live full time in a world that always looks like it’s on fire. It sits so heavy on the chest. It is easy to look out at all this trauma and forget to look back at yourself.

What I mean to say is, I might not quit my job to roam the country and catch Pokémon, but when it comes to pursuing my own happiness, no matter the means, “I wanna be the very best…”
—  LIKE NO ONE EVER WAS by Trista Mateer
And I still have the mug.

fortheluvofmerlin replied to your photo “Sometimes the sunlight hits my hair juuuust right and I am so fucking…”

-wants to hear story like we’re BFFs despite having only found out about this blog two weeks ago- -sits on seat’s edge- -big eyes- Yeeeeeesss?

So, as some of you know, husband and I long distance dated over the ocean for almost a decade before we were able to be together for keepsies. It was an…interesting, period of time. I certainly got to see more of the world than I ever thought I would, and I also learned I was capable of far more than I ever gave myself credit for. Like travelling 4000+ miles on a plane every six months despite a severe fear of flying, which I still possess to this day. But I also learned something else as well, which is that love is like tea. It can be dark and sweet, light and floral, invigorating, soothing, warm, cold, sometimes even bitter. But when you’re down and out, there’s no better feeling than the knowledge that for at least the next ten minutes, you can cradle warmth between your hands, take a sip of respite, and the rest of the world can go fuck itself. 

Other British people know what I’m talking about, trust me, love is like tea.

But Love is also a choice. Oh hormones and attraction play a part in it sure, but those won’t see you forty years down the line once the excitement of infatuation dwindles. Heck it might not even see you four. But love, to us at least, is a conscious decision to say “this is the person(s) I love, sometimes it will be hard, sometimes we will annoy each other, but for now, every day, one day at a time, I choose to be with you until such a time that I do not or cannot.”

Not terribly romantic I admit, and doesn’t quite roll off the tongue the same way as “till death do us part”. But when you’re staring down the barrel of a 14-hour flight and your valium hasn’t kicked in and the only thing playing on the tv embedded into the chair in front of you is static, it’s oddly comforting to know you still think it’s worth it. 

Anyway, I was flying over here to spend three months with him, living in his apartment. We reasoned that we should try and spend more time together than an odd week here and there if we were going to make a big decision soon about whether or not to carry on seeing each other, or whether or not we should part ways amicably and save ourselves the hassle of immigration (and they say romance is dead). So I quit my jobs, upped sticks and moved in with someone I’d only ever met ten times before, but was pretty certain I was deeply in love with but needed to be certain I could live with. It was fun, and we soon found a domestic rhythm to our lives that we hadn’t even realized we’d been desperately missing until we had it.

And then the time came for me to go home and the night before I tried to smile over the dinner table like I wasn’t being suffocated by the weight of a tangible grief and impending loneliness pressing in around me, and the rising sensation in the tips of my fingers that if only I could reach out and push back hard enough, I could slow down time and have one more minute with him.

Later that night I went to bed with my laptop and watched movies while he sat up, scribbling at his computer desk. I didn’t pay it much heed, this was fairly normal for our routine. As much as we like each other’s company, we are fairly independent of each other. We had to be, given the nature of our relationship. And secretly I was glad to have some time alone to cry and collect myself before he came to bed.

The next morning I woke up, and for a brief moment was so happy to find him beside me, before I remembered I was due to get on a flight in six hours, and it could be another year before I saw him again. 

But I got up, tried to hold myself together and because I wanted to email my friend who was picking me up at the airport, reached for my laptop. Which was when I found, this:

[A flashcard covered in hearts and a little sun which reads:
Morning My Dear Let Us Play a Game (Which May Seem Queerer) Find Me In The Spot Where Your Face Is Clearer, Walking Down Our Only Hall Will Get You Nearer, Helo oh Help I seem To Be Stuck in the…]

“Mirror doesn’t rhyme with nearer!” I shouted as he ran into the kitchen, happily picking up my little card because I secretly loved the little poems he would leave around the apartment for me, scribbled on scraps of paper, in the fog of bathroom mirrors and wedged between books.

“It does if you’re American.” was all I got in return, before the kitchen door shut and I went off in pursuit of the rest of my poem. So I grabbed my phone so I could take pictures and post them on LJ later because I thought it would be cute and worth keeping, toddled off to the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and:

Aha!

[A flashcard covered in balloons which reads:
Hidden Under the Letter Horde, Here You Have Fought Many With Bow and Sword, Word, Work and Play This Place Adores, Goodness I will be Found Under the…]

For a brief horrible moment I thought he actually meant the never ending mail pile on his side of the office, which had become a common point of contention for us, but then the rhyme clicked in place and I realized he was referring to my Lord of the Rings archer character and I ambled off to the computer desk in the main room.

Snapped a pic for posterity and lifted it up to find:

[A flashcard covered in little flames which reads: It Is So Dark And Hot In This Cove, Here I Can Only Wish For A Sight of A Cookie Grove, Find Me Quick so I Can Flee Like An Animal Drove, It Is So Dark and Hot In This Evil…]

“Honey…oven doesn’t rhyme with drove!”

“STOVE, IT’S A STOVE!”

“…yea okay get out my way”

[A flashcard which reads: Crap! I have Moved, What A Disgrace, Now I seem To Be In A Vast Knowledge Base, Words Upon Words Which None Can Be Erased, Come Quick I Am Hiding In The Top Shelf of The…]

At this point I was starting to become aware that this was not my typical poem hunt, and not just because there was so many of them, but because he was adamantly staying out of my way, barricaded in the kitchen. Nevertheless I turned to the book case,

said “FUCK” because all those shelves were double stacked, and began digging. And there, hidden in a copy of Terry Pratchett’s Feet of Clay on the page that reads “Words In The Heart, Cannot Be Taken” was…

[A flashcard with no decorations that reads: Yay! You Have Found Me, I Shall Cry WHOOPEE! I Knew You Would Do It All You Needed Was Tea, And Now I Must Say I  Love You More Than I Could Ever Foresee, Fiona my love, will you marry…]

And that’s when I turned round and he proposed with a mug of tea.

We were apart for another year after that. But it’s now been eleven years since we started dating, and with the clarity of hindsight, I’d do it all again.

Being In A Relationship With Loki Laufeyson Would Go A Little Something Like.....

Requested by @rindulacre! Thanks!!^.^

~~~

In The Beginning…

~ Loki avoids you like the plague. There is no way he’s attracted to a weak, fragile, mortal. Even if you do have beautiful eyes and a stunning smile and the way you laugh makes his breath catch in his chest like he’s been hit with his brother’s hammer. Nope. He’s not attracted. Not at all.

~ He does a pretty good job of avoiding you until he sees you talking with Thor one day and it sets him off

~ Loki takes immediate action and interrupts the (completely innocent) conversation your having with Thor to ask you on a date, something that couldn’t make Thor happier

~ Later Loki has to ask Thor what exactly a date entails as he has no idea what he’s doing

~ Your first date consists of Loki arriving right on time with a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

~ He takes you to a carnival where you introduce him to all kinds of new foods (most of which he is extremely hesitant to try). You also drag him through the house of mirrors and onto most of the rides. He wins you a huge stuffed tiger at a booth that is obviously rigged (he swears he didn’t use magic though). And at the end of the night you share a kiss at the top of the Ferris Wheel as fireworks go off in the back ground.

~ Loki takes you out on only three more movie worthy dates before asking if you would like to “go steady” 

As A New Couple…

~ Everyone thinks you guys are joking until Loki pulls you in for a deep kiss to prove them wrong

~ Thor is so excited he drags you and Loki out on a double date with him and Jane. (Most of the night is spent with you and Jane in tears of laughter as the two brothers try to top each others embarrassing stories about the other).

~ Loki is constantly sending you flowers and poetic handwritten notes

~  Loki is an extremely jealous person and every time he even sees someone look at you too long he pulls you in for a passionate kiss until he knows whoever was looking gets the point

~ Loki never lets you out of his sight because he knows there’s some serious people after him, and he doesn’t really trust anyone else to protect you like he would

~ After eight months of being together Loki takes you to Asgard to meet his parents. It’s when he sees the approval and excitement in his mother’s eyes that he knows it’s the right time to ask you to move in with him.

As An Established Couple Who Lives Together…

~ Your apartment is absolutely covered in bookshelves which are not only full of books (both Midgardian and Asgardian) but also little trinkets Loki has collected from all nine realms. 

~ Loki talks in his sleep. Sometimes it’s random things, but mostly he quotes really strange lines from poems and books. He once quoted the entire first act of Hamlet

~ Whenever he thinks you’re not looking Loki will “cheat” with his chores and just use magic

~  You two spend a lot of nights on your apartment roof, stargazing as Loki tells you stories about the history of Asgard and the other realms

~ You love getting to introduce Loki to new Midgardian things. The best thing so far has been when you went camping and introduced him to s’mores. Loki ended up freaking out so bad when his marshmellow caught on fire that he ended up freezing your entire fire

~ Loki has come home on more than a handful of occasions to find you using his cape as a blanket

~ Loki has a “hidden” stash of girl scout cookies. He hides them on the top shelf of his closet

~ It’s one of those nights after Loki has read you to sleep when he’s carding his fingers through your hair and he can feel the smile on his face when it hits him. He realizes how much you trust him as you look so happy and peaceful and vulnerable curled into his side without care of who he was or what he did to get here by your side and he feels a warmth in his chest he hasn’t felt in years.

Which Leads To…

~ Loki taking a secret trip to Asgard in order to ask Odin and Frigga if he can permanently borrow one of the many rings locked away in the royal vaults in order to make you his queen

~~~

Hope you guys liked it!(:

Being in a Polyamorous relationship with the Hamilsquad...

(So sorry I got carried away!!)


  • Your boys would be the sweetest in the world
  • Lafayette giving you adorable little pet names in French
  • “Mon petit ange doux, you look divine in that dress.”
  • Always buying a turtle plush for John everytime you take a trip to the store with one of the boys.
  • Here’s how your multiple turtle purchases would go down…
  • Hercules stopped the grocery cart and reached out to catch your arm just as your hands wrapped around the small fluffy green animal with large sparkly blue eyes. He sighed as your large orbs met his, “Y/n, my sweet, I think John has got enough turtles by now don’t you-” The tall man was cut short as his other love stepped out from behind him, setting a box of uncooked noodles in the cart, then took the stuffed animal from your hands and set it in the overflowing cart.
    “Shush Hercules, let her get him the turtle. John loves them!” Alexander insisted. Hercules rolled his eyes and threw his hands up deciding the fight wasn’t worth. Y/n and Alex both erupted with happiness when seeing John’s reaction to the new additions to his collection that they gifted him with. Of course it warmed Hercules’ insides seeing his boyfriend so excited so he obliged and shook his head.
    “Fine, fine, but you two are going to explain this to Laf when he sees John’s getting yet another one.”
  • Hercules making you an endless supply of dresses
  • Cuddle sessions
  • You’d probably have a chores chart
  • John would be the biggest sweetheart out of the four
  • They’d be obsessed with making sure you’re always comfortable and know how much you’re loved
  • Random surprises at work
  • It would most likely be extremely awkward at the start, none of you sure what to do and how to go about a relationship involving five people but after a while things would smooth out
  • Movie nights galore!!
  • Giving the boys massages after long hard days
  • Alex ranting to you about his hatred for Jefferson
  • “He’s just a pathetic, spineless, pain in my ass! What the hell is his problem anyways, huh? I mean my god why doesn’t he just take the damn stick out of his mother fu-”
    “Alexander!”
  • Doodling with John in your free time
  • Braiding the boy’s hair
  • “My love, are those flowers that you’re-”
    “Shush. You like it Alex, stop pretending you don’t.”
  • Bringing Hercules lunch and modeling his work for him
  • Thousands of group selfies
  • You all would move into a spacious apartment in New York with a large master bedroom that you all shared
  • The boys being extremely overprotective of you and each other
  • “That guy won’t stop drooling over Y/n.”
    “Oh tell me about it, this girl over here won’t stop making googly eyes at Laf.”
  • They’d love to baby you despite your protests
  • After a long day at work Hercules would draw you a bath as Lafayette carried you in and helped wash you
  • Lafayette tying your hair up in a bun whenever the chance is presented
  • Shoulder kisses
  • The boys would love placing small pecks all over your face as a sign of greeting
  • You all had enough trust in each other so jealousy wasn’t a very common thing
  • But there’d be a time when out with the boys you would run into Thomas Jefferson and Alex would go into full jealousy mode
  • He’d insist Jefferson was flirting with you and would have his hand wrapped securely around your waist with John holding your hand and Hercules glaring daggers at the man as he chatted away with Laf
  • But even Laf would get uncomfortable with the way his dear friend was staring you up and down
  • “Ah and this must be the lovely Y/n. I’ve heard so much about you. My, my you are more beautiful than the bright stars in the Virginia sky, my darlin’. Hope these men are treating you right, Hamilton especially. If you want to see what it’s like to be with a real man, one who can give you the attention you deserve-”
  • This would be Alex’s snapping point
  • Laf and Herc would have to hold him back from tearing apart the smug Jefferson as John would hold you close, blocking you from the sight
  • The rest of the night was spent snuggling together in bed under a mountain of blankets spent reassuring the boys just how much you love them
  • Morning showers together
  • The boys would try to do your makeup one night and surprisingly impress you with their skills
  • After noticing Lafayette’s constant distress and homesickness after a week or so Hercules, John, Alex, and yourself would get off early from work for the night and get to work make Lafayette a feast of authentic French themed foods
  • Laf being extremely overwhelmed at the action and going into an appreciative French spree of words- or rather so gibberish to three of you.
  • “Mes amours vous fondent mon coeur avec vos douces actions. Comment ai-je réussi à avoir la chance d'avoir quatre beaux anges qui m'aiment autant que je les fais? Je ne méritais pas de toi, mes amours.”
  • Hercules, John, and you turning to Alexander for translation
  • “He uh, he said he appreciates the action a lot and loves all of us more than anything.”
  • He’d then pull all of you in for a large group hug, which would happen often
  • Grocery shopping would take like five times longer for the fact that you live in a house with four other guys
  • John and Hercules always tagging along when you run errands
  • Alex writing heartwarming poems about you nonstop. He likes to sneak them into your work folders or your purse for moments when you need to hear it the most.
  • Hercules making all five of you matching Christmas sweaters in which you pose in for your family Christmas cards that make it out to all of your friends and family.
  • Girl gossip with the Schuyler sisters
  • I feel like Hercules would have a good list of jokes he’d say and mostly at inappropriate times
  • Like when it was Alex’s night to make dinner and he accidently overcooked the pork chops, Hercules would come into the kitchen taking in the dry black meat then look at Alex with a dead serious expression
  • “Hey babe, what do you call a pig that knows karate?”
    “Herc now is not the time-”
    “A pork chop.”
  • John always making silly faces at you from across the room when you’re stressed out
  • Laf being obsessed with taking candid photos of the boys and you,making a whole album full of them
  • “Laf why are you taking pictures of us? We’re just making lunch.” You mumbled half mindedly. The water on the stove was boiling heavily and John wrapped his arms around you from behind setting a handful of asparagus in the pot. He chuckled and placed a chaste kiss to the side of your cheek. Yet again another distinct shutter filled the air as Lafayette smiled to himself.
    “I bet it’s because we look absolutely adorable.” John whispered into your ear. You laughed as the vibration tickled your skin. Laf nodded and pointed towards the two of you,
    “Right you are, John.”
  • Making breakfast with Laf to bring to a sleeping Alex who passed out at his desk on top of piles of papers.
  • Having Christmas movie marathons laying in Hercules’ arms while Laf holds Alex and John cuddles up to your side
  • Becoming amazingly close friends with the Schuyler sister who love to hear about your relationship with the boys
  • But let’s be real, the sex would be outstanding
  • Like John would be sweet, gentle, and hesitant but in all the right ways
  • Alex would love to go down on you and the rest of the boys gaining pleasure out of satisfying his partners. He’s also pretty cocky, no pun intended, in bed but in all the right ways.
  • Lafayette exceeded in the department of dirty talk, whispering dirty French words in the shell of your ear and loud for the rest to hear which would turn Alex on above anything else seeing as he was the only who understood the words
  • Hercules was obsessed with undressing you and the boys loving to unravel you all before himself. He’s to most skilled out of all of you and it definitely comes in handy while in bed.
  • But afterwards they would always make sure you felt okay and cleaned you up
  • Fights would be to an extreme limit but when they did occur everyone acted fast
  • Alex was usually involved in the arguments while John would stand to the side, holding you close if you were near shielding you from the disaster.
  • Lafayette could be explosive if involved so Hercules acted as the peacemaker
  • In most cases all boys wanted the mess to end the second it would start but being hot tempered, sometimes it didn’t matter if the issue was large enough
  • Alex would apologized no longer than five minutes after the start almost in tears feeling horrible for his actions
  • He would rush over to John and you pulling both of you in close as the other two would join in
  • You would all then spend the night over a tub of ice cream peacefully sorting out the issue at hand.
  • So many kisses
  • Exploring the city together
  • Out of all the boys, Alex is the most difficult to convince of things
  • It’s a chore alone just to get that boy to bed
  • And when clothes shopping, you always make sure to go with Laf or John
  • Alex is the smartest with the shopping and usually knows what you actually need and don’t need
  • Hercules insists he can make you whatever article of clothing you want
  • But John simply cannot resist saying no to you and Laf just wants to see you smile so he had no problem throwing whatever amount of money down to cover the cost. (In no means is this used in the gold digger content.)
  • It makes John and Laf so happy when they say yes to you and you erupt in a fit of happy giggles and ‘thanks yous’
  • Every once in awhile all of you would take a trip. It always varied depending on whose choice it was. Lafayette loved taking you all to his home in France, Alex was a fan of adventurous tropical vacations (sometimes cruises but it took a lot of convincing) and heading to Spain for a change of culture, John liked camping trips or mountain explorations, Hercules was a fan of road trips and calm vacations on the shores of beaches in Hawaii, and you managed to talk to boys into backpacking in Europe which although stressful during the process, was a successful vacation and you enjoyed weekends up north far from the social world.
  • Lafayette would come home from work and surprise you with various coloring books or Paris, India, New York, etc. from the local Barnes and Noble. This being said you would steal many or John’s coloring utensils to fill in the books.
  • The boys all had different drunk types
  • Alex was whiny. SOOOOO freaking whiny when drunk.
  • “Y/n… can you please cuddle me?”
    “Jack gimme kisses.”
    “Hercules can you make me pizza?”
    “Laf, babe, are you ignoring me? No baby, lay with me!”
    “Alex sweetheart, I’m doing laundry what do you want?”
  • John was the cuddly drunk who always wanted kisses and hugs. He’d latched himself onto whichever partner was closest and would die before letting go. If someone would say no to John- they’d pay the price. In an instant he’d erupt in a fury of tears and totally let go of himself. Herc, being the usual sober one, was there right away comforting the sensitive boy.
  • Laf was a happy drunk. There was always a award winning smile on his face when a drink was in his hand. He’d tell jokes in different accent and whisper incoherent French words in your ear. He liked to get touch with all his partners and always had a hand on at least one of you while intoxicated. Lafayette was known to laugh at least once every two minutes, sometimes at nothing at all while drunk. He found the world to be one huge joke and had the time of his life.
  • Hercules let loose entirely. He was more of a partier when drunk and liked to brag, a lot. It wasn’t always about entirely PG-13 things either if you know what I mean. He also enjoyed showing Laf, Alex, John, and yourself off as well. Not in a disrespectful manner, just talked about how much he loved all of you. His lips were constantly pressed against your temple as well as the other boys. He’d holler and shout at a ball game on the screen that while sober he wouldn’t even give a second glance to.
  • Speaking of sports, almost everyone in the house was into something different but when March came around, the house was madness… pun intended.
  • The boys as well as yourself would all make brackets. Money was involved, no doubt. Smack talk was also a component even though none of you cared for the sport too much until March.
  • Alex would watch every game leading up to the event feverishly mapping out his plan. In the end, he would take into account more of the end scores than the effort and passion of each team. His end game was between Gonzaga and North Carolina.
  • John would argue against Alex and root for all the underdogs. Things wouldn’t turn out well for him but he had fun! John liked cheering for all teams and tened to root for the team with the most passion and enthusiasm. He was one for effort and hustle so when all his first round picks lost, he didn’t mind.
  • There was no doubt about it, Lafayette cheered for the team ahead. He was a typical bandwagon and switch sides faster than any traitor in history. Laf claimed he didn’t do so but it was clear. Sometimes he would cheer for the team with the name he recognized but he did enjoy watching basketball and seeing the games. Not knowing whether to pick North or South Carolina, Lafayette cheated the system deciding to write ‘Carolina’ as the end winner, claiming he did it on accident but everyone knew what he was up to.
  • Hercules cheered for the team with the best colors. He wasn’t as into basketball as most and prefered to watch his loves get excited themselves. Although he did pick Gonzaga, due to Alex spending an entire week talking him into it. Hercules didn’t mind though, he had no idea what was going on anyways. At the start he had put in the Lakers and Bulls, not realizing the huge difference between college and professional.
  • You on the other hand had watched the teams throughout their whole season which also meant you understood every game was different so you took an approach similar to John. In the end, Alex was the closest to perfection and made sure to let you all know it. But he choose to spend the money won on a night out on the town filed with kisses, champagne, expensive food, and loving memories.
  • You and Alex would be overly involved in reality TV
  • Like don’t even get him started on all those Real Housewives shows. Alex lives for the, most likely scripted, drama. You both try to get the other boys in on it although the only one who bites the bait is Hercules. Her claims he ‘hates’ the shows but you had caught him one Sunday night after everyone had long passed taken on sleep. You had felt his side of the bed shift and soon enough he was creeping out of the room. You followed him in curiosity and the sight you found was no one to disappoint.
  • Hercules has an episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians playing at the lowest volume and he was fully consumed.
  • You tiptoed silently down the wooden staircase holding a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing shallow. The light from the TV screen flashed in the dim lit room. You peeked out around the corner of the wall taking in the sight before you. Hopping out from behind the wall you shot your hand out at your boyfriend and hollered in delight,  
    “Ha! I knew it, you do love it!” Hercules jumped a mile high, his bowl of popcorn spilling out as he did so. His eyes flickered from the screen, to you, to the screen, then back to you again. Shooting his hands up surrender, Herc quickly snatched the remote from the cushion turning the show off instantly. “Sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like. I just- I wanted to see… fine you caught me. Don’t you dare tell Alex.”
    “Nope, too late.” A new voice appeared from the bottom of the stairs where a smug looking Alex stood. His hands were folded across his chest with his weight staggered to one hip. The cocky demeanor was shinning as bright as a new lightbulb. The introduction of another voice, or two, followed shortly after.
    “Damn Hercules, they got you too.” John commented sleepily. His messy locks curled around his face perfectly as his eyes batted heavily. You and Alex chuckled joining Hercules on the couch. Both of you were waiting for Monday to watch it together but what better time than the present.
    Alex snuggled into Hercule’s side humming at the man’s hand falling around his frame. You reached forward locking your hand with Alexander’s and rested your head on his shoulder. Laf smiled at the view and walked around the opposite end taking a seat on the floor. He turned around and faced Hercules with a side smirk,
    “C’mon babe I thought you were strong!”
    “Sorry you two! It’s just so terrible it’s addicting. Sit and watch it, just one and you’ll see what I mean.”
  • But above everything you all loved each other more than anything and did everything in your power to protect each other and make one another feel loved and cared for.

Hope you liked it! 

- Daizy xx

What’s Love Got to Do With it?

Your opinions are so interesting… So I ask you, what you think about Furuta’s love for Rize? What was revealed recently with Mutsuki makes me think they are same in a some way, I mean a twisted love and unhealthy obsession in a one-sided.
Asked by Anonymous

An interesting question posed to me in an ask that I’ve decided to turn into a full meta because I think the asker is missing that Furuta and Mutsuki are not the only ones with unrequited love this arc. Luckily I’ve drawn up a chart.

Why all of this unrequited love all of a sudden? Is it because Ishida wishes to write a Shoujo manga with corpses, and has decided to convert the last arc into one? It goes deeper than that, so let’s analyze it under the cut. 

Keep reading

The girl no one noticed || D.H.

A/N: I got this really (!) cool request not long ago and I just felt like writing it! Thank you to the person who sent it in. I feel like this turned out to be one of the purest imagines I have ever written.

Word Count: 1.8K

POV: 3rd Person (uhh something special)

MASTERLIST // PART TWO

“Mr Howell, can you please pay attention?!”

“I don’t know, can I?” Dan was smirking and cockily looking up at the teacher. She seemed perplex and instead of answering she just handed him a detention slip.

Dan didn’t really care instead he enjoyed that he made the whole class laugh. He felt like he was glowing as Mrs Hammersmith was evilly glaring at every student that couldn’t hold in their laughter.

And then he heard her, the girl that sat in the middle of class right in front of him. He’d been staring at her back all semester but not once had he heard her talk. Okay, maybe she had answered a question that she was asked, but she never said more than that.

But right at this moment he could clearly hear her giggle at his comment and he had never heard anything that beautiful. It was light and so genuine.

Dan had never really noticed her before. She was just there. Nobody ever payed attention to her and that was what she wanted. She didn’t want to be noticed but ever since Dan heard her giggle he couldn’t stop noticing her.

When the bell rang every student quickly sprinted outside. Everybody seemed to hate English Literature taught by Mrs Hammersmith, but Y/N didn’t. She liked the books her teacher gave the class to read and she’d spent nights devouring them. Still she didn’t say much during class even though she knew all the answers. Y/N just didn’t feel like she needed the attention unlike the boys who sat right behind her.

She picked up her school bag and notebook as she followed everyone outside.

“Get out of the way!” She heard somebody shout, seconds later she felt a hard shoulder hit hers.

A blonde guy was chasing his friend through the hallway. He didn’t pay enough attention to his surroundings to see Y/N walking right in front of him. The two of them collided. She was pushed against a stranger’s locker and dropped everything she was carrying. Her notebook hit the floor with a loud thud as the loose pieces of paper she stored in there scattered all over the floor.

Her ‘attacker’ didn’t even say anything he was long gone when Y/N got up again.

“You look like you need help.”

Dan had watched his friend Joe chase Carter, another friend of his, down the hallway. At first, he laughed because he knew that Carter must have done something really stupid, but then he saw Joe run into the quiet girl from class.

Y/N gulped nervously. Before she could tell the brown-haired boy that ‘it’s okay’ he had already started picking up her notes and scribbles.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m Dan by the way.” He showed her his friendliest smile. She smiled back as soon as she saw his dimples. Y/N recognized him as the guy who sat behind her in English Lit.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Dan was surprised that her voice wasn’t all quiet. It just sounded very clear.

She bent down next to him to help him pick up her papers. Dan gathered as many as he could and couldn’t stop himself from taking a quick glance at them before he handed them back.

Her handwriting wasn’t as neat as he had expected it to be. It was rather messy but he could still make out a few words. It didn’t look like anything school related.

Y/N noticed that Dan took a look at her notes. She had just scribbled song lyrics and poems down and she was sure he couldn’t even read what it said.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry that Joe pushed you over.” Dan nervously laughed a little. He didn’t really want this conversation to end, but he had nothing else to say.

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I’ll see you around?” Dan asked her, hoping that they would get the chance to talk to each other again.

“I guess so.” Y/N answered.

They had never talked to each other before. In fact, she didn’t talk much. Dan was one of the loud boys in the back of class, so Y/N was understandably a bit confused by his sudden…interest?

After they had said their byes they walked off in different directions. Dan couldn’t stop himself from turning around again and staring at her back that was moving away from him.

‘Who is she?’ he silently asked himself and he didn’t find an answer.

Yes, she was the quiet and shy girl that sat in front of him in class, but who was she really?

Dan just needed to find out.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her once after that incident. He even subtly asked his friends about her, but most of them didn’t even knew what girl he was talking about.

The next time he walked into English class he had a weird feeling in his stomach region. He wasn’t feeling sick though, he was excited? nervous even?

She was already waiting for class to start in her assigned seat as always. A part of her face was hidden behind a strand of her hair as she was drawing little butterflies next to some of her notes.

When Dan walked past her seat she glanced up at him for a second, their eyes met and then she quickly looked down again.

Dan took the chair behind her and as soon as the bell rang Mrs Hammersmith started with her lesson. It was not unusual that Dan didn’t listen to whatever she said but normally it was because he’d be joking around with his friends.

That wasn’t the reason this time. This time he was thinking about the colour of Y/N’s eyes and how he had never seen more beautiful ones.

Mrs Hammersmith started handing out new books for everybody to read and most of the class groaned as she did so.

Y/N on the other hand curiously examined the title and cover of the book as soon it was handed to her. After every student was given a copy of the book Mrs Hammersmith raised her voice.

“I want you to do presentations on this novel.” She announced and again the class groaned.

“In pairs” the teacher then added and seemed to cheer up most of her students.

Y/N, however, quickly raised her hand.

Before she was even asked to speak, Mrs Hammersmith answered her question.

“No Miss Y/L/N you can’t do the presentation on your own. You’ll need to find a partner.”

Y/N’s hand slowly sank in defeat.

“I can be her partner.”

Every student in this class seemed to turn around to stare at Dan. Their eyes were nearly grouching out of their socket as they couldn’t believe that he had volunteered to pair up with the girl nobody noticed.

Even Y/N had turned around to face him. He was shooting her a grin and shrugged his shoulders as if he were saying ‘why not?’.

She simply nodded, agreeing to do this project together.

After class had ended Dan quickly followed Y/N outside.

“So… when do you want to meet up?” Dan asked her, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you think you can finish the book until Friday?” she asked him, eying the novel she was now carrying on top of her notebook. It was pretty thin, she would probably read it in one go tonight.

“Sure.” He positively said although it would probably take him a while since he wasn’t really into reading that much.

“Good. Then we can meet up Friday after school. My place?” She wanted to know.

“Sounds great.” Dan smiled at her, already looking forward to Friday.

As the day of days had finally came Dan was unable to concentrate on anything in class or listen to anything his friends said. The only thought he was able to think was ‘I’m going to see Y/N today’.

Dan had stayed up until way past his usual bed time in order to finish the book. He was busy all week and didn’t have the chance to read it, but he would’ve done anything to finish it.  

After his last lesson on Friday he nearly jumped up from his seat, he didn’t even say goodbye to Joe or Carter, he walked out of the building straight away to wait for Y/N in the parking lot.

To his surprise, she was already waiting for him right next to the entrance. What Dan didn’t know was that she was just as excited as him.

“Hi” she greeted him and Dan’s heart swelled with happiness at the simple word.

“Hey Y/N” he greeted her back and as she started walking he just followed her.

“We need to take the bus.” She explained as they made their way to the bus stop.

Five minutes later Dan sat in a bus that was driving in the opposite direction to where his house was.

They sat next to each other but didn’t talk much. Still, it wasn’t an awkward kind of silence between them. It just felt normal.

After Y/N had told Dan where to get off they walked a few metres until they had reached her house. She got the keys from her bag and unlocked the front door.

“My parents are at work. How do you feel about ordering something for lunch?” Y/N asked the brown-haired boy that kept looking around the house.

“Sounds perfect to me.” Dan exclaimed, only now noticing how hungry he was.

Dan took his shoes and jacket off before grabbing his bag again and waiting for her to tell him what to do.

“My room is upstairs.” She explained before she ran up the stairs on her tip toes. Just that simple act made him grin.

He followed her and as he entered her room his mouth hung open. There were Green Day posters and lyrics plastered all over her walls. There was even a drum kit in the back of her room.

He stared at her with wide eyes as he noticed the stacks of video games next to her TV. He had played and loved most of them, but he saw some that he didn’t even know of.

“There is a sequel to The Last of Us?” he asked her flabbergasted, picking up the game from where it was lying next to her PS4.

“It came out yesterday. I pre-ordered it. It’s so much better than I had expected it to be, and my expectations were high!” She excitedly exclaimed and Dan was taken aback by how passionate she was about it and how vigorous her voice sounded.

His gaze wandered through her room for a while as he took in all the tiny details and decorations.

Then, his eyes landed on Y/N again and he couldn’t help but stare at the girl nobody but him noticed. And boy, they all missed out on something.

“Who are you?” he asked her with a smile, not being able to read her.

“Coffee Shop Boy - Part 1″

AN // This wasn’t requested but like I offered y’all the option of a request and you picked this instead so really it’s on you guys that I haven’t been writing requests.

Requested // No

Request are open // Request here 

TW // none

I Never Wish To Be Parted From You From This Day On.

He’d been trying to write all day. He’d woken up motivated, or anxious, or both. You see he knew he had deadlines, knew “time off” was never meant literally, knew being home meant getting work done at home and now? Now he knew that getting work done at home was near impossible when his family were staying with him. Don’t get me wrong, he loves his family more than anything, when asked about what he does in his free time his answer is almost always about how he likes being home with his family. However being home with his family does have it’s downsides. Like how the mothers meetings that happen in his living room always seem to end up being about which one of them has an eligible daughter for him to settle down with or how he can never just get a quiet moment to himself. Yes, he adores his family, but sometime he just needs a minute alone and that wasn’t looking likely in his house full of voices. So he picked up his brown journal, a pen and his car keys, left his mother a fleeting kiss on the cheek and went to look for any quiet place he could find.

I guess that’s how he ended up here. This small coffee shop that smells like pine wood and has plant pots hanging from the ceiling. He thinks it’s called The Hideaway, only briefly catching a glimpse of the sign before walking in, but he figures that would make sense considering he would’ve missed it had he not bumped into someone walking out. It’s busy, sure, but it’s coffee shop busy so almost everyone is on their own, reading or typing away on their Macbook writing what they think will be Hollywood’s next big screenplay. Those who are speaking are doing so with hushed voices and he can’t deny how good coffee sounds right now. He’d found quiet, now he just has to find a seat and when he does it’s in the form of an armchair by the window opposite a girl sitting with her back against one arm rest, her legs dangled over the other and a book covering her face.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

It’s muffled over the music in her headphones but she still catches it, not enough to really make out what’s being asked but coupled with the change in lighting coming from in front of her it’s enough to know that the hazy words are probably being directed at her. It’s enough for her to take out a headphone and look up.

“Huh?”

“This seat, is it taken?”

“Oh sorry, ye-no no it’s not you can sit there.”

She fumbling over her words and pushing her hair from out of her face to behind her ear and he’s got a lazy half smile on his face because he thinks she’s cute.

“Thanks, I’m Harry by the way”

“It’s nice to meet you Harry”

She’s smiling at him and it almost makes him skip over how she doesn’t tell him her name, thinks maybe she’s weary of strangers but he can see it. It’s written on the side of her coffee cup and it’s pretty, a pretty name for a pretty girl.

They’re quiet for the most part, occasionally he’ll sip his coffee or she’ll giggle at something she’s read, but really they’re just sitting in comfortable silence. He keeps catching himself staring at her, fascinated at how she doesn’t even notice. He watches her as she reacts to this fictional world she’s so immersed in but what he doesn’t notice is how he smiles when she smiles or how his eyebrows furrow as she pouts when she gets to a particularly upsetting part or how he’ll look away and start writing again whenever she looks sad. He doesn’t notice when she’s staring at him either, doesn’t notice how she finished her book about 10 minutes ago and how she’s been been watching him with curious eyes as he writes in his half full diary.

“What are you writing about?” It shocks him, neither of them had said anything since he’d introduced himself. His head shot up at the sound of her voice but he relaxes when his eyes catch hers. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright, just didn’t realise you’d finished reading. It’s just some poems, by the way, and a few songs. S’nothing special.”

“Could I read one?”

“Nosy little thing aren’t you?”

She’s blushing now and his smile is back.

“Sorry. You don’t have to show me. I just like to read is all.”

“I never said it was a bad thing poppet, what book were you reading anyhow?”

The pet name throws her off a bit, not expecting it but also liking how it sounded coming from him.

“Pride and Prejudice. Have you read it?”

 “No, can’t say I have. Seen the film though.”

“Oh the book is so much better. Yes the movie has Colin Firth but the book…”

She’s sat up in her chair now with her legs crossed and Harry has a grin on his face because, sure, he didn’t ask for an in depth review of the novel but hearing the excitement in her voice as she talks about it and seeing how she smiled when she recalls how Mr Darcy was ‘so arrogant but being in love with Lizzie changed him’ had him feeling as though she could tell him about any and every classic novel there is and he wouldn’t mind as long as she did it with that smile on her face. 

He’s not sure how long they talked for or really what they talked about, all their conversations seemed to seamlessly stream into one. Her love of Pride and Prejudice became her love of books, which became about their favourite books, which became about their favourite movies and that became about how he’s in a movie now and so on and so forth. Now they’re here, back in comfortable silence, they’d talked for so long he swears on lookers would’ve seen them as old friends. It takes him a minute but he notices how dark it’s gotten and how the baristas are putting coloured stools up on tables and it has him checking the time. It’s 9:30pm and unfortunately for him he has three missed calls from him mother which surprises him because he didn’t even notice his phone ringing.

“Looks like they’re closing, poppet.”

“Hmm? Oh!” She looks around, noticing everything he has, before checking her phone for the time and he notes how she was also oblivious to her surroundings. “Is it really that late?”

“Yeah, we should probably get going.”

They walk out together, stopping when they get outside. Staring at each other momentarily before he breaks the silence.

“I’m this way.”

“I’m that way.”

He can’t deny the pang of disappointment in his chest when she says she’s going in the opposite direction to him, he can’t help but wonder if she felt it too and from the look on her face and how she’s pushing hair behind her ear again, he thinks she does.

“Okay well I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah, see you around love.”

He watches her walk away with a soft smile on his face. He really hopes he sees her again.

first time | jeff atkins imagine

request: i seriously had so many requests asking for jeff x reader’s first time, so here you go, loves.

**note: this imagine obviously contains smut.

your p.o.v ━

you were currently walking over to your boyfriends house, bobbing your head to one of lana del rey’s songs. your boyfriend, jeff atkins, rang you up late afternoon, asking if you wanted to come over and study since his parents would be visiting some old friends that night.

you happily agreed, excited to finally see your boyfriend since this week in school had you both extremely busy.

you finally made it to his house, knocking three times on the hard door and waiting for someone to answer.

“hello, y/n. it’s so great to see you again, come in,” jeff’s mother said, stepping aside with a smile. “thanks mrs. atkins, it’s nice to see you as well,” you smiled warmly back.

“jeff, honey! y/n is here,” mrs. atkins yelled, shutting the door and nodding her head at you to follow her. you both made it into the living room, both of you hearing jeff’s heavy footsteps thumping their way downstairs rather quickly.

mrs. atkins turned towards you, a small smile on her face. “would you like something to drink or some snacks for studying?” she asked.

“um, a water would be great,” you said politely.

she nodded, making her way into the kitchen. you notice jeff stop at the last step, looking at you with bright eyes. “hi love,” he said, walking over to you, then leaning down and pecking your lips gently. “i missed you,” you whispered, your lips forming a small pout. he chuckled, leaning down and kissing your nose which made your nose scrunch up.

“i missed you more,” he said deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close.

“here you go- oh.”

you pulled away from jeff instantly, making him release a huff. “mom,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

you turned your head around to see a blushing mrs. atkins, holding a bowl of chips and two water bottles tucked underneath her arm.

“sorry, i just.. here,” she said, a knowing smile on her lips as she handed you the bowl and jeff the two water bottles. she eyed the both of you curiously, earning another groan from jeff.

“your father and i should be leaving in five minutes,” mrs. atkins said, making her way over towards jeff and giving him thirty dollars in cash. “this is for dinner. will y/n be spending the night?” she asked with twinkling eyes.

“thanks mom, and i guess if you want to?” jeff asked, looking towards you with raised eyebrows.

“oh, um, i didn’t really bring a sleeping bag,” you mumbled, a blush covering your cheeks. “it’s alright, you can borrow some of my clothes,” jeff winked, causing his mother to clear her throat.

“it’s okay, i can just ask my mom to come pick me up later-”

“nonsense, you can stay if you would like y/n,” his mother said kindly. you nodded, “thank you… mrs. atkins.”

she nodded, “now get to studying you two,” she said sternly, a small snort escaping her as she walked away.

jeff huffed, annoyance written all over his face. “your mom is great,” you told him, making your way past him and walking up the stairs.

“yeah, but she can be a little over the top,” jeff sighed, walking behind you. you both made it inside of his room, you instantly walking over straight to his bed and sitting down, popping a chip in your mouth.

you saw jeff close and lock the door, making you raise a eyebrow.

he looked over at you with a cheeky smile, “what?”

you shook your head, “shouldn’t you leave that open?”

he frowned, “why? my parents won’t be home anyways,” he said, making his way over to his bed and sitting down next to you. you noticed his history textbook thrown across his bed along with his notebook.

“i’m glad you’re spending the night,” jeff suddenly said, making your eyes snap up to look at him.

you never spent the night over jeff’s house, nor did he ever sleep over at yours, even though you both had been dating for almost six months. it was strange, but your parents would never allow a boy to sleep with you in your room and you were always shy to sleep over at jeff’s house.

“i’ll have to call my mom up and tell her i’m staying with a friend,” you said, putting the bowl aside and grabbing jeff’s history textbook. “alright,” jeff said, scooting back and watching you with curious eyes.

“so, what section should we start with?” you asked, kicking your shoes off.

it was about a hour later, and you were reading a small section from the history book to jeff so he could copy down notes.

though, jeff had other plans.

jeff’s head was currently leaning on your shoulder, and little snores were escaping him making you roll your eyes.

you knew he was playing, but it made you grumpy. “jeff,” you sighed, pushing his shoulder slightly and hearing him moan deeply.

your eyes widen, your face heating up as you pushed him again, making him whine your name.

“what?” he asked sleepily, lifting his head up and looking at you.

you looked up at him, and cursed him silently as he was still freaking taller than you even while sitting down.

“you fell asleep,” you said blankly. jeff smiled lazily, “i know, it was a power nap y/n.”

you snorted, shoving the book into jeff’s lap and making him release a pained groan. “what was that for?” he breathed.

“for not paying attention,” you spat, getting up and walking over to your boyfriends desk. you looked down, seeing all of the love notes and poems you had gave him stacked into a neat pile.

you smiled instantly, picking one up and reading it. you put the paper against your nose, smelling deeply. you could smell the faint scent of your perfume on the paper, making your eyes flutter close for a moment.

“it’s one of my favorites that you wrote me, that’s why it’s on the top,” jeff suddenly whispered from behind you, making you jump.

you turned around to face him, seeing his hair slightly messy and his eyes heavy. you admired him, your eyes focused directly on his.

“what are you staring at?” jeff asked you, his head tilted slightly in question. you shook your head, “nothing, i was just… admiring you,” you trailed off, walking back over to his bed.

you flopped down on the bed, laying sprawled out across it. you felt the bed shift slightly, seeing jeff crawl his way on top of you making you roll your eyes. “what are you doing?” you asked him, feeling him lay completely on top of you.

you were squished underneath his weight, though he used his arms to push himself up so he wasn’t crushing you completely.

suddenly, he leaned down and started slowly kissing your lips, earning a small surprised gasp come from you. you kissed him back though, opening your mouth as you felt his tongue trying to pry its way inside your sweet mouth.

your tongues fought each other, each exploring each other’s mouth, as jeff’s hands started to roam at your sides.

jeff moved his lips, trailing them to your jawline and down to your neck, before sucking rather harshly on your sweet spot. you released a content sigh, tipping your head back and letting him do as he pleased.

your neck was already marked up prior to him sucking on your neck, being as jeff was the type of person to mark his lover, meaning you.

he liked leaving marks on you, passion marks of course, but he liked seeing them later on and knowing that he was the one to have made them. you didn’t mind, you loved looking in the mirror later on and seeing the deep marks your boyfriend made while in a heated moment of passion.

though, you and jeff never did anything besides heavy makeout sessions, being as you were still a virgin and very shy when you both brought up the topic about sex. jeff didn’t mind though, he knew you would only go to that stage if you were ready, and even then you were sure he would still be nervous about taking something from you that held such value.

you knew jeff was a total gentleman, and you knew he would wait as long as you needed, which made you fall in love with him even more.

“jeff,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer against you. he looked back up, asking if this was okay and you nodded, before kissing his swollen lips again roughly. he kissed you back hungrily, nibbling on your lower lip.

while his hands pushed himself up, making him break the kiss as he sat back on his knees, breathing deeply. you eyed him, your chest heaving up and down. “what’s wrong?” you asked, a small pout forming on your lips as you sat up along with your boyfriend.

he shook his head, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes tightly. “jeff, baby, what’s wrong? what happened?”

“it’s nothing, love,” he assured you softly, looking at you as he positioned himself to lay back down. “why’d you stop then?”

he chuckled nervously, as your eyes were focused only on his face with a small glare coming from you.

“well… i um,” he trailed off, looking up at the ceiling. “what?” you pressed on, wanting to know if it was something you had done.

“i was getting hard,” jeff said blankly, looking you dead in the eyes.

you blinked, then blinked again, before you opened and then closed your mouth.

it was normal, you thought, trying to process his words. you got horny sometimes too, but you never really noticed jeff get hard from your makeout sessions before. maybe he was just good at hiding it from you whenever the both of you would makeout, though it never seemed to affect him before.

“jeff, it’s alright, really,” you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

he raised a eyebrow at you, “y/n, i’m happy you think so, but i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel like you have to do something that you don’t-”

you shushed him by quickly getting on top of him and straddling his waist, then leaned down to press your lips against his again.

you didn’t know what made you do it, but you were sure in that moment that you wanted jeff atkins to be your first and only.

“i want you,” you whispered against his lips, feeling him freeze again, making you giggle. you leaned back, still in his lap, but quickly tugged your shirt off, leaving you only in a lavender lacy bra and a pair of sweatpants.

jeff groaned, seeing you fling your shirt over to the other side of the room, before you bent down and proceeded with kissing him again.

you felt jeff gently grip your shoulders, squeezing them and then rubbing his fingertips in little circles against your shoulder blades. after a moment, you pulled back, looking down at him with big, y/e/c eyes.

“don’t you want me?” you asked, your lower lip forming a pout, making jeff shut his eyes tightly and release a frustrated sigh.

“fuck, y/n, you can’t just ask me things like that. don’t you know what you do to me?” jeff asked you, his eyes snapping open and his face was pure desperation.

you shook your head, tilting your head to the side innocently. you honestly didn’t know what you were doing, all you knew was that you wanted jeff, and that’s it.

you were a year younger than jeff, and even though most teenagers knew about sex including your boyfriend, you really knew nothing besides the basics.

jeff suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist as to hold you close against him while sitting up. “i need you to be sure y/n,” jeff said quietly, his forehead leaning against yours.

your arms were wrapping their way around him, holding him closely. “i’m sure, jeff.”

jeff smiled brightly, then smashed his lips into yours and trying his best to unclasp your bra.

he struggled, his fingers fumbling with the clips as he mumbled curses under his breath as he felt your lips attack his neck.

you found his sweet spot after a moment, biting and sucking on it, making your boyfriend groan deeply. “fuck, fuck, y/n,” jeff said, feeling as you started to lightly grind down against his member.

you pulled away quickly, not knowing if what you did was good or bad. “what is it?” you asked him, noticing his breathing was quickened. “it’s nothing, just.. don’t you wanna go slower? at least let me be the one taking care of you this time.”

you blushed, nodding your head once and rising up off of jeff’s lap, before you sat beside him and looked at him to see him pulling off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. you bit your lip, looking at his gorgeous torso.

“see something you like?” jeff smirked, looking down at you. you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him rather childishly which made him laugh.

jeff faced you again, then reached out with his hand to cup your cheek, bringing his lips to yours. as you two kissed for what felt like forever, it felt as if something shifted.

the way jeff was kissing you now was slow, and almost teasingly? you enjoyed it, but you also needed air. you pulled away after a minute, gasping down air, your eyes still shut as you felt jeff’s forehead against yours, both of you were breathing each other in.

“i love you,” jeff said, caressing your cheek softly, pecking your lips again. he started leaving wet kisses down your chin, making his way to your neck, and down to the center of your chest. then, he suddenly pushed you down gently on the bed so you were laying on your back, he crawled back on top of you and looked down at you with heavy, lustful eyes.

“i love you,” you gasped, feeling jeff’s fingertips lightly trace your hip bones, making your back arch slightly. he moved his hands to the top of your sweats, looking down at you for confirmation. you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

jeff swiftly pulled your sweats down, leaving your lavender laced panties on. he spread your legs apart, hearing you breathe in quickly. “are you alright, love?”

you bit your lip, nodding your head because you didn’t trust your voice right now.

jeff’s eyes wandered over your face for a moment, before his eyes started trailing down your covered breasts, and seeing the few cute beauty marks covering your stomach, he smiled.

lastly, his eyes stopped at your most vulnerable place. your eyes were focused on jeff’s face, looking at his reactions.

you saw his lips tug up into a tiny smirk, noticing a little wet patch on your panties. you swallowed, seeing his hands gently making their way up and down your thighs, squeezing them slightly in his large hands.

you squeezed your hands into fists, your stomach in knots as you waited for jeff to make his first move.

“j-jeff?” you squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. his eyes snapped towards your face instantly, raising a eyebrow.

you bit your lip, you heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest any minute if he didn’t do something soon.

jeff suddenly got into position, making himself comfortable as he moved to lay between your legs. his face hovered right above your pussy, his eyes still only focused on your face and noticing your chest was heaving.

it was amazing, he barely did anything, yet he had you like this already.

he moved one hand up and ran it along your heat, feeling your juices soaking your panties already. he moved your panties to the side, getting a full view of your needy pussy.

you choked on air, feelings jeff’s fingers start to rub your clit slowly, almost teasingly. “oh!” you gasped, your body already pressing down against his fingers which made him chuckle and look back up at you.

your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, your eyes fluttering close as your back arched. suddenly, you felt jeff’s warm mouth make contact with your clit, sucking on it harshly. you moaned loudly, feeling jeff hold your legs down as you started squirming.

he continued sucking, then he licked all the way from your wet little hole until he reached your clit again, making you release a strangled cry.

you have never felt like this before, sure your masturbated a few times before, but nothing to this extreme.

jeff moaned against you, and suddenly you felt pressure, as jeff was pressing one finger against your hole. “oh god, oh god,” you whimpered, feeling him push his finger inside you and then slowly pulled it back out.

he started pumping his finger in and out for a minute, getting familiar with your tight heat. you didn’t know what do, as your head tilted back and your mouth was parted slightly, gasping for breath as your stomach continuously tightened.

jeff added a second finger, a groan escaping him as he pulled away from your clit, making you frown from lost. “jeff?” you questioned, your voice squeaky and breathless. “christ, y/n. how are you so tight?”

jeff continued pumping his two fingers in you, trying his best to add a third, then went back to giving attention to your pulsing clit.

“oh, fuck!” you screamed, feeling his tongue flick against you with speed. you were going to cum if he kept doing this, and he knew it. you tried your best to grind down against his mouth, letting out a small cry as he pulled his fingers out of you quickly and gripped your thighs, keeping them in place.

your eyes found his, his eyes were fully dilated, blown from lust, as were yours. your head fell back again, feeling like you were going to cum any minute. your hand made its ways towards his head, and you pushed down forcefully.

you were gripping his hair so tightly, you didn’t even notice the moans coming from jeff as you were a moaning mess yourself. “ooh, jeff, i’m g-gonna-”

that’s when you felt it, your boyfriend shoved his fingers back into you, pumping them quickly, then bit down on your clit. you released a scream as you came, your hips bucking wildly against jeff’s clever mouth and talented fingers.

as you were still on your high, you felt jeff licking up your juices, making a humming noise in enjoyment, making your over sensitive clit vibrate.

he pulled away after a moment, licking his lips, and watching your chest heave. your face was fully flushed, your eyes closed and your body felt like mush.

after a moment to catch your breath, you opened your eyes to see a amused looking jeff atkins, sitting on his knees.

“you’re so beautiful,” jeff whispered, his eyebrows furrowing.

“t-thank you,” you stuttered, eyeing your boyfriend curiously. you bit your lip, about to sit up as you assumed jeff would want you to return the favor, but he lightly pushed you back down.

“don’t you want me to-”

“no, i said i would be taking care of you,” jeff smiled softly, leaning over to his nightstand, which made his muscles stretch.

he dug into his nightstand drawer, making a accomplished sound as he pulled out two things.

a condom and lube.

you swallowed, seeing him place the two things beside you before he got up and slowly pulled down his pants and boxers, his eyes locked with yours as he did this.

you didn’t know how jeff did it, but he seemed completely fine with stripping in front of you. you didn’t blame him though, he had a amazing body.

you on the other hand, you were comfortable with your body, but you still got shy showing your boyfriend everything you owned. it made you vulnerable, and nervous.

you and jeff never got naked like this before in front of each other, this was all new. you were excited though, as this was a new experience for you.

jeff never pressured you though, the only clothing jeff had seen you without was your shirt, which he looked away instantly asking if you were done changing. he only ever did what made you feel comfortable, which you appreciated.

you knew jeff wasn’t a virgin, which you both discussed before, him telling you the regretful story of his first time in late sophomore year.

it broke your heart, knowing that the girl jeff used to be in love with just used him to get popular and for sex.

jeff wasn’t like that though, once he was in love, he was totally smitten and would do everything in his power to make that person happy. he was heartbroken, and very closed off most of junior year before senior year and the both of you started dating each other.

he seemed very nervous about asking you out, stuttering his words out, which usually wasn’t like him. he was usually very confident with his words and around women, but with you, you left him speechless. a stuttering mess, as you told him once, making him playfully glare at you.

the good thing was that you both had been very close before he asked you out, you both had trust for one another, and the both of you shared everything now.

jeff finished stripping the last bit of his clothes off, kicking his pants and boxers off.

your heart rate started to beat up rapidly again, as you eyed his long, hard member.

your eyes snapped up towards his face again, seeing him biting his lower lip. jeff made his way between your legs against, grabbing the condom and tearing it open with his teeth, then slid it on his leaking member.

he leaned down, leaning his weight on his elbows and his face hovered above yours for a moment, before he pressed his lips against yours.

your arched your back, your chest pressed against his. you hummed, feeling your tongues swirling around each other’s, enjoying each other’s taste.

you felt jeff reach underneath you, taking a moment again trying to unclasp your bra, which he successfully did this time.

he took it off you, then threw it somewhere, flinging it over his shoulder, totally forgetting about it.

you were both completely naked against each other now, and you could feel his heavy cock poking at your stomach.

“do you want this?” you heard jeff mumble against your skin as he moved his way down to your breasts, suddenly sucking on a perky nipple, making you gasp.

your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him closely. “y-yes!” you said breathlessly, feeling him move to your other breast.

he nibbled on your nipple, then reached up with a hand to play with your other breast, pinching and pulling the harden nipple.

you moaned softly, “jeff,” you whined, your hands making their way into his messy hair, rubbing your fingers through it.

he chuckled against your skin, placing a wet kiss in the middle of your chest, before pulling away. you watched him, observing the way his muscles moved and the way his fingers worked while unscrewing the lid of the bottle of lube.

you saw him pour some onto his hand, then put the bottle of lube aside as he started coating his cock.

he looked down, positioning the head of his cock against your virgin hole, looking up and focusing his eyes on your face. “you ready, love?” jeff purred, asking you one last time if you were sure about this.

you nodded, whispering a soft ‘yes’.

that’s when you felt it, jeff slowly entering you, making you cry out in pain and mixed pleasure. jeff stopped instantly, looking down at you with worried eyes. “are you okay, y/n?”

you nodded your head multiple times to assure him, that yes, you were fine with the whole situation. the only thing you were not okay with was the pain that came with the pleasure.

“it h-hurts,” you whined, taking in quick breaths.

“i know, i know baby. just breathe for me, okay?”

“okay,” you said, nodding for him to continue. jeff continued his way into you, feeling your walls clench around him, making him release a deep, throaty moan. “ooh, fucking fuck,” jeff cursed under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut.

he gave you a moment to adjust to his large size, focusing on his breathing.

he knew it hurt you, and he was doing everything in his power to hold back from pounding into you. “okay,” you said softly, reaching both of your hands out and placing them on his broad shoulders.

jeff slowly pulled back, watching your facial expressions and trying his best to ease your pain by moving one of his hands down and massaging your clit quickly.

jeff started to slowly pump into you, watching as your eyes fluttered close, little moans escaping your pretty mouth.

jeff released a small growl, “look at me,” he demanded, causing your eyes to snap open and release a shaky breath. “j-jeff,” you whined, throwing your head back as he started thrusting into you at a faster pace, but still making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

he bent down, attacking your mouth with his, making you moan in pleasure as he continued to rub your clit in fast circles.

a moment later, you felt jeff hit something, making you release a muffled scream against his mouth. jeff pulled away from your mouth, trailing opened mouth kisses along your neck, biting down almost painfully, which made you throw your head back.

jeff continued to hit that special place inside of you, as he started to pound into you, making you moan loudly. you gripped jeff’s shoulders tightly, feeling him still attacking your neck.

jeff pulled away from you rather suddenly, stopping his thrusts for moment and lifting your legs up and putting them over his shoulder. he then continued to roughly take you, making him release frequent curses loudly as he went deeper inside of you.

“oh, fuck, mmm, y/n!” he yelled, moving one of his hands back down towards your clit, rubbing it quickly. you screamed, bucking your hips against his which made him lose it.

“j-jeff, please!” you gasped, feeling yourself tighten around his cock, before cumming hard.

your high pitched screams echoed throughout his room, feeling your orgasm hit you hard.

jeff continued fucking you, sweat beading on his forehead. a minute later, you heard a loud, drawn out moan escape him. “f-fuck!”

he rode out his own orgasm, his eye squeezed shut tightly and his lower lip caught between his teeth, biting down hard.

jeff slowly came to a stop, keeping himself buried within you for a moment, as he breathed deeply and looked down at you with tired eyes.

you were sucking on your bottom lip nervously, your face felt like it was on fire.

“jeff, was this okay?” you asked him shyly, blinking as he pulled out of you slowly. a lazy smile made its way on his lips, “it was perfect y/n,” he assured you.

he gently took your legs off of his shoulders, placing them down gently as to not hurt you, knowing you would be sore sooner or later.

you watched as he got up off of the bed, walking over to the trash can. you heard a snapping noise, making your ears perk up curiously, before realizing that he took off the condom.

he made his way back over to you and got into the bed, lifting the blanket up and pulling it over the both of you. before you even moved, you felt jeff carefully pull you on top of him, earning a surprised sound from you.

you heard him chuckle softly, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you against him. your head was rested on his chest as the both of you stared into each other’s eyes. “i love you,” you said, pecking his lips.

this earned you a toothy smile from the tired boy, “love you,” he said sleepily, hugging your flushed body against his as close as possible. “you should rest now, love,” he told you softly, kissing the tip of your nose.

“okay,” you whispered, shifting into a more comfortable position, half of your body slung over his, both of your legs intertwined together.

it didn’t take you both very long, before you both were sound asleep, both of you feeling content and very in love.


♡ ♡ ♡

i really hope you guys enjoy this, i deleted this imagine and restarted it like six times, i swear. also, my mom finally got me the book ‘13 reasons why’ so y'all already know that means i'ma be binge reading it the rest of the weekend. also, is binge reading a thing?? i don’t know. anyways, enjoy loves!

(sorry for any grammar mistakes, i edited this imagine three times, but if you see any grammar mistakes, just ignore them please!)

Interesting Asks

1. If you could have the chance to make out with 5 celebrities, who would you choose and why?

2. If you had to be straight/gay for a day (whichever you’re currently not!), what celebrity would you most like to take on a date?

3. What is the biggest injury you’ve ever sustained and how did you do it?

4. What is the most unusual food you’ve ever eaten?

5. What is the most unique animal you’ve ever touched?

6. What are the top 5 most contrasting songs on your iTunes?

7. Which 3 countries would you LEAST like to live in and why?

8. If you could make just ONE change to this world, what would it be and why?

9. If you could wake up tomorrow and be fluent in 3 additional languages, which would you choose?

10. Which would you rather out of these 3 options? A- Be good looking and extremely intelligent but so poor you live on the streets. B- Be extremely intelligent and a millionaire but what society classes as ugly. Or C- Be good looking and a millionaire but extremely academically challenged? Why?

11. What are the top 10 movies to make you cry? (Or at least make you sad!)

12. What’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? Describe it in detail.

13. Would you rather raise 25 children or have the chance of ever having children taken away? Why?

14. Would you rather go on a relaxing beach type holiday to the Caribbean, a cultural holiday to Japan or an adventure packed holiday to South Africa?

15. If you went to a desert island for just 6 months but could only take one album with you, what would you take?

16. Put these in order of your favourite movie genre to least- Horror, action, thriller, adventure, superhero, romance, drama, comedy, musical and dance?

17. If you had to lose one of the 5 senses, which would you choose and why?

18. What have been the top 3 most brilliant days of this year? Describe them in as much or as little detail as you like.

19. What do you believe we as human beings take most for granted in this world?

20. How many concerts have you been to in your life and which was your favourite? If you’ve not been to one, who would you most like to see?

21. If your life was about to become like Cheaper By The Dozen and you were going to be saddled with 12 children, what would you name 6 girls and 6 boys?

22. What’s something a stranger has said or done that you will never forget?

23. What do you think happens when we die?

24. What’s the most special hand made present you’ve ever been given?

25. What’s the most frightening thing you’ve ever seen in your life?

26. Name 5 books you think everyone should read and give a brief synopsis for each.

27. Do you believe one can fall out of love?

28. What are your three favourite sounding words?

29. Have you ever had a paranormal experience? If so, what happened?

30. Name 4 things you hope to see happen for you in the new year.

31. List the 7 deadly sins in order of the one you feel you commit the most to the one you feel you commit the least.

32. What’s your current- Desktop picture, phone screensaver, phone lock screen and Facebook Cover Photo?

33. How old were you the last time you went to visit Santa? Talk about that time.

34. Rate your first kiss on a scale of 1-10.

35. What’s the funniest dream you’ve ever had?

36. What are 3 facts you know about your favourite celebrity/character that prove you know too much?

37. Name 5 songs you wish you’d lost your virginity to? (Or would like to lose your virginity to.)

38. Name 5 songs you’d like to have sex to in general.

39. Put your iTunes on shuffle, write down the first line of five songs and give it to me as a poem.

40. Where do you stand on the death penalty? Explain your reasoning.

41. Who are your holy trinity? (3 celebrities or characters that come above any other for you.)

42. Would you rather- A. Have a prickly leaf stuck on your forehead for the rest of your life, B. Suffer 100,000 stings from stinging nettles or C. Get 200 thorns stuck in your body?

43. Top 5 WORST movies you’ve ever sat through?

44. 5 movies you thought you’d hate but ended up loving?

45. Tell a story that involves someone you had a crush on in school.

46. What’s your favourite ever television commercial and why?

47. If you woke up and had 10 million in your bank, what would be the first 3 things you did?

48. You can have 100 million but you have to give 1 million each to 3 different charities, which 3 do you choose?

49. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you?

50. Would you make out with a person of the gender you’re not attracted to if it meant you could sleep with any celebrity/character of your choice? (If yes, you can choose the person to make out with.)

51. Name 5 facts that the vast majority of people won’t know about you.

52. When was the last time you laughed so hard that tears fell from your face and what was it at?

53. How important do you think education is?

54. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.

55. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it?

56. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.

57. How did your name get chosen? What’s the story behind it?

58. State 8 facts about your body.

59. Have there ever been rumours spread about you? If so, share them.

60. Are you allergic to anything? If so, what?

61. Describe yourself in one word/sentence- what made you choose that?

62. What are the top five places you wish you could go before you die?

63. Share 7 facts about your childhood.

64. Share 6 facts about your home town.

65. You’re in jail! What did you do?

66. You’re given $10,000…under one condition- you cannot keep the money for yourself. Who do you give it to?

67. Share 5 things you love unconditionally.

68. What was something you used to enjoy, but was ruined for you? What’s the story behind that?

69. Describe one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

70. Put your iTunes on shuffle and write the first 10 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.

71. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.

72. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you choose to do and who would you choose?

73. If you could only listen to one band/artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?

74. You can ask your favourite celebrity 3 questions and they’ve taken a magical truth pill so they will 100% answer honestly, what do you ask?

75. Who do you think is a really underrated celebrity and what do you love about them?

76. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what do they mean to you?

77. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person. If so, who?

78. What song makes you cry the most?

79. Share 4 facts about your parents.

80. Share 9 facts about your family.

81. Share 5 facts about your best friend(s).

82. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for in a partner?

83. Share 5 ways to instantly win your heart.

84. Top 10 biggest turn ons?

85. Top 10 biggest turn offs?

86. Have you ever had a poem or song written about you?

87. What is your personal definition of cheating in a relationship?

88. Give a description of the person you dislike the most.

89. Write an open but anonymous letter to a person of your choice.

90. What are your morning and evening routines?

91. If food was people, who would be your best friend, your life partner, your enemy and your ex?

92. Have any celebrity deaths truly impacted you?