this is me when i want food

Today I went out to eat with some new friends. At first I was so excited and feeling like, girl you got this. And then I checked in with myself and noticed some apprehension. They I sat down to eat and I got nervous.

I immediately took noticed of how much food was on everyone’s plate. I also panicked when I saw that everyone finished before me.

And I wanted to put a napkin over the rest of what was left on my plate, to signal to myself that I no longer “have” to eat. And I also to signal to people that I finished.

But I ate every last bite at that table with three other people present. I leaned on them for support and I enjoyed myself.

I was absolutely unaware of what I was eating, I was not in the present moment. I was present for the experience and conversation but not of what I was eating.

And you know, I just realized, this was my first restaurant outing with friends since I’ve been out of treatment! I am so fucking proud of myself!

Enjoy recovery guys; there are lot’s of downs but these victories are worth it!

sweetchocobae  asked:

Writing prompt: "I can't believe you talked me into this." ~Ignis. (I look forward to seeing your blog grow!! ^-^)

My first time writing for Ignis! Thank you for the cute request, @sweetchocobae. This was fun to write. I hope you like it!

Tagging people who asked to be tagged: @insomniasix and @xnoctits. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything in the future.

Ignis x reader
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
396 Words

Your boyfriend, Ignis, was surprised when you asked him to teach you to how to bake cookies. You were never good at cooking or baking. No matter how hard you tried or how much your practiced, your food was never edible. Ignis knew this fact and was rather reluctant to teach you. After some sweet talking and a cute little pout on your face, Ignis finally agreed to teach you. He can’t say no to that face.

So you found yourself in your boyfriend’s kitchen, wearing one of his extra aprons. “______,  would you please add a teaspoon of salt?”, Ignis said as he emphasized the word teaspoon. You picked up the measuring spoons, looking to find the correct measurement. While you were looking through the measuring spoons, Ignis’ work phone began to ring. “Excuse me, dear. I need to answer this call. I will be right back”, Ignis announced as he walked into the other room.

You definitely heard Ignis say tablespoon, right? So you went ahead and added the tablespoon of salt, continued mixing the sugar, butter, vanilla and egg in a large mixing bowl. After several moments, Ignis finished his phone call and returned to the kitchen, peering over your shoulder, with a soft smile on his face. “Darling, you were doing a wonderful job. Next, please stir in nuts and chocolate chips.”

After preparing the cookies and 10 minutes in the oven, they were finally done! Ignis grabbed his red oven mitten and pulled the cookies from the oven. You both were overwhelmed with the smell of nuts and chocolate. They weren’t burnt or under-cooked, the cookies looked perfect.

The smile Ignis gave you warmed your heart, he was so proud of you. “Ignis, they look amazing. Thank you so much!! Please try one!” Ignis nodded and picked up the biggest cookie of the batch. You carefully studied his face as he took a his first bite. Ignis took a bite and slowly began to chew. Suddenly his face went blank as he finished his bite. “Are they okay?” You nervously asked.

Ignis gazed at you for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He did not want to hurt your feelings. Giving a light chuckle, he chimed “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” He leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose and said, “They are salty, just like you.”

I want to know you
I want to know the way you laugh
what makes you cry
what makes you dance until the morning begins
what’s your favorite color, your favorite food, your favorite book

I want to know how you look in the sunset
bathed in color and beauty
I want to know how you look in the moonlight
shadowed in the darkness, yet glowing

I want to know the flowers I should give you
I want to know how you look when you are joyous
how you look when you are terrified and the best ways to comfort you

because, I already know that you have changed me
I already know that your hand fits in mine like a puzzle piece 
and I already know that if you let me, I could fall in love

anonymous asked:

I really want to comfort you about this weight issue you seem to have. You're very sensitive about the topic. I find it interesting that you only listened/heard them talk about when they dont eat, but didnt mention anything about them talking about eating or over eating. Your post about their food consumption always makes me worry so much more about you than them. Im sorry youre having a tough time. ♡

asndsjkds yeah sorry ;; i can’t help this, the moment they start talking about not being confident in their looks because they gained weight or that they diet i just,, i get so upset and angry?? usually whenever the topic is brought up i deal with all these bad thoughts the only way i can: proving myself that food is no longer my enemy and that i don’t need to starve myself or diet to be happy by eating well out of spite alsakdsdjfds so even if i react badly and say some worrying stuff i’m as okay as i can be i guess. the worst thing i do these days is over eat whenever something triggers me but other than that i’m fine. i’m not doing any stupid stuff, please don’t worry about me!  

Yooran Week

I wrote this for @yooranweek I was tired so if it has typos or moves to fast I’m sorry. I have a headache and I feel like death, so writing was probably a bad idea.

So apparently you can get your tonsils removed at the age of 21. Who knew? Definitely not me until I got a text from Saeyoung.

“Hey I know you Saeran are really close friends but he just got his tonsils removed and I think he wants to see you.”

And that might’ve been the strangest text I’ve ever received. I was in town when I got it so I ran to the nearest store to pick up some ice cream.

Saeran loved ice cream,it was his favorite food. And I heard that once you get your tonsils removed than you should probably only eat ice cream. I picked up as much ice cream as I could hold, paid for it, and ran to the bunker.

Saeran didn’t have to best health. He would have colds almost every other week. And during the winter if he let the house without a sweater, jacket, scarf, and hat. He would be running a fever for the next week. So this didn’t surprise me to much. I just hope his body reacts properly to the surgery. Wait? Is having your tonsils removed even surgery? I don’t know. I just hope his body reacts okay to it.

I got to the bunker and immediately texted Saeyoung.

“I’m here. Please let me in. I’m holding to much ice cream because I was to scared to ask for a bag and my hands are so cold I can barely text you!”

‘Access Granted!’ His gate said and opened by itself.

I ran in and set the ice cream on the table and gave a sigh of relief as I stuck my hands in my pockets to warm them.

“He’s in his room laying down.” Saeyoung said, coming up behind me. “And holy shit why did you get so much ice cream? My brother isn’t that addicted!”

“He got his tonsils removed. I heard that ice-cream helps with that.”

Saeyoung gestured towards Saerans room the left. He looked stressed. Maybe Saeran was in a bad mood. I decided to see for myself. I took a deep breath and entered.

So imagine the most pissed off face you’ve ever seen. Okay now throw that out the window because this now that face. “Sae!”

And he just stared. A death stare. That went right through me making me shudder. He was just laying there, his mint eyes piercing through me. I was waiting for him to say something before I realized. He probably can’t say anything.

“ are you feeling?” Shit, how is he supposed to answer that? He shrugged and I took that as a 'I feel like shit but it’s not so bad’.

God. Even like this he looked so cute. His red hair spread out on his pillow, his perfect pale skin. Everything about him was amazing.

“I brought ice cream.” He sat up at the mention of it.

He couldn’t say anything. Maybe I could use this to my advantage. If I were to ask him out now. He couldn’t say no, he could signal it but not say the heart crushing word.

“So I brought like 5 cartons of ice cream and I would’ve brought more but I couldn’t hold anymore and I was to scared to ask for a bad and my hands are freezing. I know this is a bad time but I’ve had a crush on you for the past 4 months-” He opened his mouth to talk through my jumble of words. “SHHHH NO DONT TALK!”

He immediately closed his mouth with a smile. It was a genuine smile. Looking at his smile I couldn’t help but smile myself.

'Bing’ my phone signaled I had just gotten a text.

I pulled it out and saw a text from Saeran.

“I like you too” I read it aloud.

Silently I looked up at him, he gave me a shy smile. I ran over and hugged him. He couldn’t say anything but just hugging him was enough.

I had been hiding my feelings for so long. Because I was scared. I had nothing to be scared of, of course he loved me back. Now it seemed so obvious.

How he would reach for my hand them pull away. How he would lean in a little to close to be considered normal. Looking away but I could still see a bit of blush on his cheeks. It all seemed so obvious.

I’m sure he was scared too, of me, of everyone, of his brother. It took so long for him to even except that we were friends.

Who knew that in the morning your best friend could he getting their tonsils out, but by the night you and him could be cuddling together as in together. I didn’t know that….not until today.

okay so i never interact with anyone on this site lmfao but here is a post about how much i love my mutuals because. why not.

@seimoneaugustus i say this every time but you’re the funniest person on this site, hands down! all of your food takes and tags are. flawless and tbh your blog makes me smile every day :)

@emlovesu thank you for making dodgers games bearable (especially when chris hatcher is pitching) w/ your FANTASTIC live blog and also for “codington bellinger” which makes me laugh approximately every time you say it

@checkontherep another person who makes me want to Die considerably less when the dodgers are playing! thank you for the daily dose of social awareness and baseball takes

@claytcnkershaw thank you for making me the sonic stripling meme. it is the greatest thing i have ever seen with my own two eyes and i think about it every day. (i wish i ran a baseball blog as good as yours shsakjsakdjd)

@scottkazmir invented the oakland athletics and having iconic nicknames for various baseball players! thanks to you i will never think about andrew miller without thinking “leg man”

@erinmcsave ahh i miss screaming about the canwnt and soccer football in general with you! i hope that you know i still harbor an intense dislike of the ***** so hmu any time to fight w/ some stans

@houstoncreamsicles it’s been so long since i’ve been a soccer blog that i almost tagged your janine beckie url, smh. thank you for always encouraging my love of sincy and also i am praying for the dash to play better for you!

@fifawomensworldcup thank you for occasionally showing up on my dash to  remind me how much i love tanc & the canwnt (also thank you for inventing the tumblr tagging system shdsdskakjs)

@tinylarrie i don’t even go here but. i love u thank u for accepting me for who i truly am

anonymous asked:

Imagine Sir Patrick waking you up for your birthday with breakfast in bed. He makes your eggs the way you like them, your favorite kind of pancakes, your favorite cereal with toast on the side. Hell cuddle you and end up sharing the food with you while watching a favorite movie of yours and suggesting places you could go to celebrate and start the day. When the day is over and you're all tired out, he'd hold you close, kiss you and whisper all of the reasons why he loves you.


TalesFromThePizzaGuy: Delivering food in an expensive looking car

Every once in a blue moon you’ll see a kid delivering pizza or other takeout in a BMW or something. Have any of you been in that position before? Did it affect your tips? I understand it’s probably just their parents’ car that they had to borrow, but it does make me do a double take.

The other day, I ordered some hot wings and stuff for me and my girlfriend (about a $20 order) from a local restaurant, and the driver was a young guy (looked between 18 and 22) with a BMW 325 (e46 generation, from ‘98 to '06). With a car that age, it’s highly possible that he worked 2-3 jobs and saved up to buy it himself, but I think if you busted your ass for that nice of a car, you’re not gonna want to subject it to that kind of abuse like delivering food in a dense city environment. When I was delivering I drove a 12 year old volkswagen that constantly had a check engine light. One time it was in the shop and I had to borrow my friend’s car, an Audi of the same age, even though it was in even worse shape than mine (literally falling apart and barely drivable, I had to beg my friend to let me use it because he said he didn’t want me to die), but I still couldn’t help but wonder if customers were judging me for showing up in an Audi.

I had tipped 20% on the card ahead of time when placing the order online, and I’m glad I did because I probably would have hesitated with the tip, and in retrospect I would have regretted the impulsive decision to tip 15% instead of 20 because of my assumptions about his life.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that 15% is unofficially mandatory, earned pay, due to the minimum wage exemption in the US (unless it’s one of the rare restaurants that pays all drivers min wage or more).

I’m curious if you’ve been in the position of delivering in a nice car and if people gave you hard time about it or punished your tips.

By: Marshall_Lawson

thedownworld  asked:

12 and malec !!

Ana my love thank you for asking again!!

Magnus was the high warlock of Brooklyn and that was a title that commanded respect, dignity, and honor. Though if you looked at him you would never think any of those words applied to him. He was in sweats a t-shirt and had baby food in his hair and all over his clothing. Respect please he used to make people cower in fear. The only person cowering in fear was him he was terrified of this screaming baby. He groans rocking him again “"max please! I’ve done everything you could possibly want! Work with me here!” At that minute Max hushed and Magnus thought maybe Max was ready to work with him. That was when chairman meow walked into the chair and screeched causing Max to wail again. Magnus groans “"Alexander come home please!” He yells into the empty apartment. Surprisingly at that moment Alec walked in and he’d never been more happy to see the love of his life. “"Your here wonderful help me please.” Alec laughs coming over to kiss his boyfriend and take the screaming baby “"nice to see you too.” He gently rocks Max who stops crying almost immediately.  Alec laughs softly as Magnus sighs and pouts “ he shouldn’t have favorites Alexander.” Alec grins “ aw he can’t help that he likes daddy more.” Magnus rolls his eyes “"you got home early can we we do something?” Alec sighs “"we have max we can’t.” Magnus grins “"that’s what family is for darling besides we haven’t been out since we got Max.” He smiles wrapping his arms around Alec’s waist “"please darling.” He says softly Alec leans back against him. “ Ok fine we can try.” He says as Magnus calls Catarina. Alec sets down max so him and Magnus and can get dressed. A half hour later Catarina shows up and Alec reluctantly hands her Max. He lets Magnus drag him out of the house and into the cab. Magnus grins at him “"I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.” Alec smiles at him “"I’m proud of us for getting out too.” He says grinning as Magnus kisses him. He hadn’t been kissed well really kissed in such a long time. It was safe to say they got kicked out of the cab for getting carried away. They walk in a few hours later and Catarina smiles at them while handing them Max. “"So how was dinner.” Magnus blinks “"Oh yeah…we were supposed to go to dinner…oops we uh got distracted.” She nods rolling her eyes “"yoor wearing each other’s shirts mhm  Goodnight boys.” They blush sheepishly “"goodnight Cat thank you!” They hold max close and he starts crying when she leaves Alec laughs “"I think he has a new favorite.” Magnus kisses his cheek “more nights out for use then huh.” 

See what your followers think!

BLACK = I would date you.
GREEN = I think you’re cute.
BLUE = You are my tumblr crush.
GREY = I wish you would notice me.
PURPLE = I don’t talk to you but I really love your blog.
TEAL = We have a lot in common.
YELLOW = I don’t know you at all.
ORANGE = I don’t like your blog.
BROWN = I don’t like you.
PINK = I think you are unattractive.
RED = I hate you with a burning passion.
WHITE = You scare me.
SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something.
MAROON = You taught me something new.
CINNAMON = You’re a really cool person and admire you from afar.
PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh
MAUVE = You are really talented
BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.
CYAN = We have very little in common
THISTLE = I only just started following you
INDIGO = I’ve been following you for a long time
FUCHSIA = Your blog content is gold
COPPER = Your blog content is trash (and I love it)
VERMILION = You make me feel passionate
HONEYDEW = I want to call you by a nickname
LAVENDER = You inspire me
CORAL = You’re a meme
UMBER = I want to know more about you
FORGET-ME-NOT = You remind me of somebody
RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you
ARSENIC = I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about you
WINE = You make me feel kinda funny, like when we used to climb the rope in gym class
SAFFRON = I love your ideas
TIMBERWOLF = I trust you
FALLOW = I want to run through the Northern wilderness barefoot with you
PLUM = I’d like to chat with you
TANGERINE = I love your aesthetic
SAGE = You make me cry
CRIMSON = We should collaborate on something!
VIRIDIAN = I wanna hang out on your blog
CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie
BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you

i wish people would stop seeing animated movies at the result of big name studios and see them rather as the result of the hard work of hundreds of artists who dedicated their time and effort into creating something for us to enjoy

‘Why do you love me? What is there to love in someone like me? Please, tell me why you’re so fond of me because honestly? I don’t get it.’

I was perplexed how could he not see why?

‘I love you because you’re you.

I love you because when you smile, your lips always tilt slightly to the left. When you smile your amazingly sharp canines peek through giving you a juvenile look. When you smile, your ever present dimples show more — if that’s even possible —. When you smile, your eyes crease at the edges and your beautiful eyes become slits of pure joy.

I love you because when you laugh, you tilt your head backwards. When you laugh, you always close your eyes. When you laugh, you grasp your stomach and bend over. When you laugh, you always end in a deep sigh and smile after wards, you grasp my face in yours and kiss me as if we’ll never kiss again.

I love you because when I do something you like, you giggle. When I do something you like, you’ll caress my hair and pat my cheeks. When I do something you like, you look at my lips and say, “I fucking love you”. When I do something you like, your eyes bore into mine and I see a flame ignite in them.

I love you because when you’re concentrated you furrow your eyebrows. When you’re concentrated you tongue pokes out of your delicious lips and glides over them. When you’re concentrated, you tend to break out of it for a slight second and do that 'hmmph’ sound you know I like just to give yourself a small break. When you’re concentrated, you grab something to eat with your left hand and bring it to the right side of your mouth and proceed to take a bite.

I love you because when you kiss me, you grab my face with both hands. When you kiss me, one hand pulls on my hair, while the other runs its thumb across my cheek. When you kiss me, you always do a series of multiple pecks after we end making out. When you kiss me, I can feel you smile and let out small giggles of content. When you kiss me, you hold my face in your palms and look at me for a good while then you tell me I’m beautiful.

I love you because when you hug me, you hold me for a long time. When you hug me, you grasp me firmly with both of your strong arms. When you hug me, you use one hand to rub my back. When you hug me, you put your face in the crook of my neck and breathe in my scent. When you hug me, you won’t let me go until we’ve embraced each other tightly.

I love you because when you talk about something you love you smile the whole time. When you talk about something you love, you tend to look down at your hands. When you talk about something you love, you furrow your eyebrows and smirk a little. When you talk about something you love, you let out small sighs of happiness. When you talk about something you love, you always tilt your head to side and shrug your shoulders at the end because you get embarrassed at your enthusiasm.

I love you because when you make me blush, you tease me about it. When you make me blush you put your hands on my cheeks and remark, 'baby your cheeks are hot’ at which point I reply, 'no they’re not, I don’t know what you’re talking about’. When you make me blush you look at my cheeks and smile and say 'baby you’re blushing’. When you make me blush you hold me down and ask me why knowing damn well that makes me blush more.

I love you because when you tell me stories about your past, you say them in a low voice as if speaking louder will make them come back. When you tell me stories about your past, you always hug me and won’t let me go. When you tell me stories about your past, you run your hands through your hair because you know you might cry. When you tell me stories about your past you always mutter the phrase, 'why am I even telling you this?’ And we both know it’s because you love me, and you want me to know what I’m getting into.

I love you because when you notice I’m sad, you’ll look at me and poke my cheeks until I smile. When you notice I’m sad you tell me 'stop being a taco without the shell’ because you know I’ll laugh. When you notice I’m sad, you’ll hug me and tell me you love me. When you notice I’m sad, you’ll ruffle my hair and whisper in my ear, 'Tina eat your goddamn food’, because that llama is our spirit animal.’

I love you for so many reasons, if I listed them all, this poem would never end.

The best way to put it is, I love you because you’re you.

—  Beauty in IT /// I love you because…
You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio

If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”

The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.


It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.

He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”

But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

Happy Accident

This happened back when I played in high school. Our party consisted of 4 people. Orc Barbarian, half elf rogue, gnome cleric, and human mage (me). We are all level 8. We were on our way to a city accompanying a caravan delivering food and weapons to fight a tyrant king. On our way we were confronted by a group of bandits. We were all on horse back while our orc was riding in the cart with the goods (him being too large to ride on a horse). Our rogue decided she wanted to ride fast up to the leader, jump from her horse, and surprise attack him.

Rogue: While the leader is busy with his monologue I want to sneak ride around through the trees and then surprise attack him.

DM: Ok, roll for stealth.

Rogue: *rolls 19+10(stealth spell)+5 bonus* That’s a 34?

DM: You are no where to be seen. *laughs* Roll for acrobatics and attack. Plus surprise cause no one has no idea you’re coming.

Rogue: *Rolls a 2 for acrobatics* *rolls nat 20 on hit for crit* Oh Jesus what’s going to happen 😬 *rolls for damage* And that’s a 58 😅

DM: Ok *laughs* As you jump from your horse your leg gets caught on in the stirrup and you fall underneath the horse. However, as you do, your dagger flies from your hand uncontrollably and as you’re trying to grab it you manage to throw it and it goes right into the side of his neck in the middle of his speech. He falls off his horse.

Whole party erupts in laugher in disbelief.

Rogue: (OOC) *hands on her mouth* I can’t believe that just happened.🙃

And that’s how our rogue killed a bandit leader after our DM wrote and planned this whole speech only to have it literally cut short.

Voltron Headcanons~

-Lance used to make really shitty, low quality videos with his siblings and posted them on youtube.
*They had like 40 subscribers and they were all family members except for Hunk.
*When Lance became a paladin he started recording himself talking about his day every day so his family wouldn’t miss anything even if he never went back.
*The only one who knows he does this is Pidge, because she accidentally heard him when she was in the vents.

-Pidge is ALWAYS in the vents. She thinks they’re very useful in battle and to get information.
*She wanted to get back at Hunk for reading her diary.
*She’s still crafting her plan.
*She has some good blackmail material, tho:
~Shiro’s eyeliner actually takes about two hours to get right, that’s why he always wakes up first.
~Keith spends an hour looking at himself in the mirror and trying to fix his hair every time Lance insults it.
~Lance actually likes Keith’s hair (see: Lance talking to himself and recording it).
~Allura spends all the time she’s in her room doing weird poses on the bed and she falls at least three times per day.
~Hunk has nightmares with Iverson and will wake up screaming not to fail Lance again.

*She hasn’t been able to find anything about Coran, though.

-Keith is lactose intolerant.
*Which means he’ll eat as much dairy as he’s physically able to in space.
*Pidge thinks it’s funny. Lance has an ongoing migraine.

-They have inside jokes.
*The goo is hot and burns Hunk: “Goo, I can’t believe you would do this to me. We had a BONDING MOMENT. I CRADLED YOU IN MY ARMS.”
*Pidge and Shiro will randomly shout: “YOU KNOW YOU LOVE THOSE PEAS, DAD. "The rest of the team is very confused.
*Pidge: VOLTRON DRINKING GAME! You drink every time someone rejects Lance. Keith: Pidge, do you actually want to die? Lance screeching in the distance.
*Allura actually asked what the quiznak a British was when Pidge commented on it. Lance hasn’t stopped laughing yet.

-Hunk’s cooking abilities come from his moms, who owned a family restaurant in their hometown.
*When Lance went to visit and first ate their food he cried.
*Similar reaction to Hunk’s when he visited Lance’s family.
*The day those families get together it’ll be madness. (Hunk: Delicious madness).

-Keith and Pidge are best friends.
*They first bonded over their beef with the Galra.
*Then about being sad with no family.
*Then about how annoying Lance was.
*By the time Keith started talking about Lance more than to say he was annoying, Pidge was too invested to ignore him.
*If she has to hear one more line on Lance’s eyes she’ll murder someone, though.
*She’s tired.

-Pidge goes by both binary and non-binary pronouns.
*She doesn’t care.
*He doesn’t care.
*They don’t care.
*She’ll fucking fight you if you assume based on stereotypes.
*Someone: but you look like a boy! Pidge, wearing a "feminine” outfit: Bitch, you thought!

-Shiro loves reading.
*His favourite book is Pride and Prejudice.
*He owns a copy that looks like it’s been run over by a truck.
*Keith once tried to convince him to replace it and that was the first day he feared for his life.

-Talking about books, favourite books:
*Lance’s favourite book is The Fault in Our Stars.
~Try to talk badly about it and he’ll fight you.
~If you make a reference to it, he will cry.
~“Maybe Voltron will be our always.” “DAMN IT, PIDGE!”

*Hunk’s favourite book is a cooking book his mom got for him when he was like 8.
~He’s not much of a reader unless it has to do with cooking and or engineering.
~If he does read, he likes fantasy and romance.
~Him and Lance have cried over many fictional things over the years.

*Pidge’s favourite book is The Art of Being Normal.
~She doesn’t think the story is perfect, but it made her feel a lot of things.
~She’s also partial to sci-fi. Asimov is her god.

*Keith is a Harry Potter boy.
~He didn’t have many books in the shack.
~He’s reread them more times that he can count.
~“What do you MEAN you haven’t watched the Harry Potter movies?” “Why watch the movies when you can READ THE BOOKS?”

*Allura’s favourite is the Altean equivalent of Romeo and Juliet.
~She likes that they all die at the end.
~“They deserve it. Idiots.” “Allura, no…”

*Coran’s favourite book is the Universal Encyclopedia.
~He’s working to get Earth included because he finds humans fascinating.
~“So you just… take them in your house? Aren’t they wild animals?” “They’re just dogs.” “Incredible.”

-Lance remembers the bonding moment.
*He just said he didn’t because he was bitter Keith didn’t remember him.
*It keeps him up at night.
*“I’m such an idiot.”

-Keith remembers Lance from the Garrison.
*He didn’t at first because he was still in shock from Shiro.
*It also keeps him up at night.
*“Lance is such an idiot.”

bakery au (oldie but a goodie)

Part 1

“He hates me,” Bitty moaned, flopping on his couch. Holster was raiding his kitchen, listening to his rant about Jack Zimmermann.

“I don’t even know what I did wrong! Maybe it was because I told him that he played a hard game last night the first time he came into the bakery? All he does is glare at me and say stuff like ‘Eric, the coffee is too sweet,’ or ‘Eric, you need more protein.’”

“Brah, maybe Zimmermann just has a total resting bitch face,” said Holster as he pulled out a leftover pie from Bitty’s fridge. “Guy seems fucking intense. At least he’s good for business.”

“He keeps on glaring at me! And he comes in, like, three times a week. Orders a coffee and just drinks it in his corner, ignores my attempts at conversation even though, mind you, he has already said some pretty rude stuff!”

“The guy’s a celebrity, he probably has his head so far in his ass and doesn’t care about shit, and also just wants some privacy. Bits, you haven’t been taking pictures of him and posting it on twitter have you?” Holster asked, alarmed.

Bitty gasped, “Adam Birkholtz! I would never!”

“Then just treat him like an antisocial customer, he can’t be the only one going to the bakery who doesn’t want conversation and just wants service and food,” Holster said, dropping down next to Bitty on the couch with two tins of pie.

“I know,” Bitty sighs. “He’s just…so handsome. And he was so nice to Nursey when that fool tripped. And he tips generously. And he’s just so gorgeous, even when he’s glaring at me and speaking in grunts whenever I ask him how his day has been. I just want him to like me!”

Holster navigated the TV to a rerun of Golden Girls and handed Bitty one of the pie tins. “I think that’s your problem. You’re an amazing person, Bits, but maybe you can be a bit too friendly for resting bitch face robozoid Zimmermann. Maybe stop asking him about his day and just let him chill.”

Keep reading

hey guys, something really, really shitty happened out of nowhere. my mom was brutally assaulted last night by a completely worthless excuse of a man that she used to call a friend. she just got back from the hospital and has a huge black eye, broken nose and messed up chin.(id prefer not to post pictures out of respect for her privacy but i guess if you really want proof you can message me privately) it’ll take weeks to heal up and it really sucks because she was trying to get a new job and now she doesn’t feel confident enough to even leave the house. 

I’m also trying to get a job but in the meantime i would greatly appreciate some commissions, or if you have just a few dollars id happily accept donations to i just want to be as helpful as i can while she recovers and i know money cant “fix” things but it really helps to at least be able to like…get food when we’re hungry and do laundry when we need to and stuff. you know how it is. thanks for reading

anan Performance Unit Interview Q1
  • Q: The good points and slightly worrisome points among members?
  • Dino: The8-hyung is too much of a perfectionist. When he matches clothes, everything needs to be considered, even when he's packing, he watches the mirror while muttering, "Does this combination look good?"
  • The8: I just want to bring everything, and end up bringing a bigger suitcase than everyone else.
  • Dino: But when everyone's gobbling up food with spoons, The8-hyung uses chopsticks and eats very little, no wonder he never gains weight, I'm a bit worried.
  • Jun: Dino, too. Sometimes you don't eat breakfast properly, right? If you don't eat properly, you won't grow big like me. (laughs)
  • Dino: I don't do that. I grew taller during "BOOMBOOM" era. When I stand with the other members, I no longer feel small.
  • Hoshi: When the group was first formed, he was still a kid. As for Jun, he's just handsome, open-minded and a peacemaker. The fact that he has no bad points is the most disappointing.
  • Jun: (trying very hard to hide his blushing shy face) Please give me a mask~!
  • The8: But he always likes to tell jokes, when he hypes himself up it's... Oh well, we're all used to it by now anyway. (laughs bitterly)
  • Jun: Every time I tell a joke I think, "Wow, my Korean's so good!"
  • The8: That's why you tell them?! This is the first time I'm hearing it. (laughs)
  • Jun: But aren't I right about this? (laughs) Dino thinks in detail about all his expressions and actions on stage. Even though he's so talented, he's still this hardworking, it's truly commendable! His slightly worrisome point was mentioned earlier, he doesn't eat breakfast.
  • The8: Hoshi is the member you should learn from the most, he's someone you can rely on. A lacking point is that, he's slightly short-tempered, when he gets worked up he talks really loudly.
  • Hoshi: When we're nearing the deadline for the choreography, I get anxious when I have no inspiration, so sometimes...
  • The8: Because he's very close with us, he is able to show us without any disguise, everyone understands.
Teamiplier as shit my friends have said
  • Tyler: Whole food is a slutty Walmart??
  • Amy: Touch my desk I scream
  • Mark: You shut your mouth when you're talking to me
  • Ethan: I was born 5"2 and fully erect

I have come so many thousands of leagues, and for what? Who have I served? I have lost my daughters, Robb does not want me, and Bran and Rickon must surely think me a cold and unnatural mother. I was not even with Ned when he died … Catelyn had not eaten today. Perhaps that had been unwise. She told herself that there had been no time, but the truth was that food had lost its savor in a world without Ned. When they took his head off, they killed me too.