weigh cup!

3

@hynpos myth event day two: hades and persephone 

you wear flowers in your hair and he collects ash under his fingernails
but when he shows you how to weigh a human life,
cupping his grey hands under yours, the power becomes intoxicating and
you must admit that your souls are the same:
hungry.
aching.

l.m.

Secrets and Fun - Grant Gustin

summary : Grant asks you out on a date, but you think it’s just as friends. Later on that night you fid out that he likes you the way you’ve liked him and things get a bit heated from there.

word count : 3.6k +

warnings : nervous reader, nervous Grant, fluff, smut, fingering, heated make out session, little bit of cursing, unprotected sex, little bit more fluff.

pairing : grant gustin x actress!reader

prompt : “Hi! I love love love your imagines so so much, and if it’s not too much to ask could I request a Grant Gustin x Reader where they’re friends, but secretly have feelings for each other and finally he breaks down and tells her how he feels and it leads to some, ahem, “fun” later on? Thanks so much!!!” - anon

A/N : lol I feel like this is suupper long. Idk, but I hope you enjoy! :D

master list | requests | prompt list |

Originally posted by ireneknight

Grant Gustin has liked you for a while now, ever since you two were introduced on the set of The Flash during season two. It was now time to film season four of the DC show.

You weren’t big on the show, maybe a hero that would come up and every now and again, but with Grant’s character ‘Barry’ now gone, your character is now much bigger.

You and Candice sat in makeup, talking and getting ready for the new scene. You and Candice have grown close to one anther over the past few weeks, having many scenes together. One thing you two had bonded over was of course- Grant Gustin himself. Candice and Danielle would constantly tease you about having a crush on Grant, but every time they did you would deny any accusation, but of course they were right.

You did like Grant, but you knew it was wrong since you two were co-workers, friends. You couldn’t be anything more than that, or it would ruin your friendship. Even with Grant not filming as much anymore, he was still always on set.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being called from somewhere behind you. Looking in the mirror you saw Grant, the man of the hour, jogging up to you and Candice. From the corner of your eye you could see the actress smirking at you. You rolled your eyes, and got up from your chair to meet Grant. The brunette boy smiled at her, his dimples making your stomach tighten.

You shook off the feeling and smiled at him. “What’s up, Grant?”

He shrugged. “I uh- was just wondering if you wanted to maybe- um..” Before grant could finish his sentence you were called out onto set. She sighed as she looked at Grant.

“I’m sorry.” You said as you started to back up, “We can finish this when I’m done shooting!” You slightly yelled as you jogged off to where you were needed. Grant huffed. He just wanted to ask you out, but every time he was about to you two were interrupted.

He watched from behind the filming crew as you did your job. You were an amazing actress, and he was just happy he got to work with you. Before season four, you were hardly ever on set, maybe every once in a great blue moon to do a team up, but other than that you were always guess staring on Arrow or DC’ s Legends of Tomorrow. You were kind of all over the place.

Just about thirty minutes later you were done shooting the needed scenes for that time period and then started heading to your dressing room. Grant caught sight of you and jogged up to you.

“Y/N/N! Hey, we didn’t finish our conversation.” Grant said as he slowed his pace next to you. You turned your head a bit and smiled softly at him.

“Right, right, sorry. Continue.” You continued o walking.

Grant coughed slightly. “So uh- as I was saying, I was wondering if you’d maybe like to hang out tonight? With me?” Your heart started to beat faster. Was he actually asking you out on a date? Or was he just asking to hang out as friends.

Turning your head, you smiled and nodded. Maybe it was just a as friends, there was no way he actually wanted to go out with you… right? Grant’s face lit up though, a big, goofy grin stretching across his face. As he went to say something else you were pulled away by your hair and makeup artists, going to get ready for the next session of filming.


You weren’t done filming until 10:00 p.m. You had several wardrobe changes and makeup changes, but in between every break, you couldn’t get away long enough to go find Grant.

Maybe he left. You thought to yourself. As you were packing up, Candice came skipping over to you, smiling like an idiot. “You, me, clubbing all night.” She said all giggly. You groaned. You weren’t really in the mood for clubbing, and you weren’t even really sure if you and Grant were even still on for tonight.

Sighing you shook your head. ”I’m not really up for it, Candice. Plus, Grant I were supposed to hang out tonight, but I don’t even think e’s here anymore.” Candice smirked. “We were going to hang out as friends, Candice. I don’t even think he likes me the way I like him.” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh no, I’m pretty sure he’s still here.” Candice smirked and nodded behind you.”Good luck.” She patted your shoulder before skipping away, giggling at her two favorite people finally ‘going out on a date’. You turned around to see Grant walking up to you with a single rose in his hands. You smiled softly, not being able to help the blush that crept up your cheeks. Grant stood in front of you, wearing a pair of blue jeans, and a nice t-shirt with a jacket over it. He smiled at you as he handed you the flower. You took it with a smile on your face.

Why was he doing this if you were just hanging out as friends? You wondered.

“Here I thought you had left, Mr. Gustin.” You chuckled softly. “I thought you left earlier.” You admitted.

Grant shook his head. “Nope, well I did, but to get you that rose. I was going to buy an entire bouquet but they’re so expensive.” He laughed softly, making you smile. The two of you walked out to where both of your cars were parked and sighed. “So, I was thinking maybe we could go get some ice-cream or frozen yogurt? And just walk around for a bit? I don’t know, I hadn’t actually planned this out all the way.” You laughed and nodded.

“That sounds great. Let me just put this stuff in my car and then we can walk to the frozen yogurt shop?” You said, unlocking your car and throwing your stuff inside. You grabbed some cash and then locked the car again, turning to  Grant. “Alright, let’s go.” You smiled. Grant nodded and the two of you started to walk down to the frozen yogurt shop. On the way there you two talked about the upcoming filming sessions, characters that may be coming into play, your lives outside of the show.

Grant had learned that you loved to read, but then again anyone could have guessed that since there is almost always a book on your chair or in your dressing room. You had also learned that Grant made his own YouTube videos. That was a surprise to you. Sure, you knew he could sing and everything, but you never would have guessed Grant Gustin would have a YouTube channel.

You and Grant walked into the Frozen Yogurt shop, the little bell chiming as the two of you walked in. There wasn’t anyone there, besides the employees of course, but you and Grant were the only customers.

Your eyes landed on the cups that would have the Yogurt in them. You walked over to them and picked out a medium sized cup. With the cups were different things that you could put onto the bottom of your cup. There were cookies, brownies, gram cracker crumbs, Teddy Grams, and Oreo bits. You put some Oreo crumbs on the bottom of your cup before walking over to the many machine’s that held the yogurt. (think ITop It). You put Vanilla, chocolate, and of course Oreo flavoring into your cup. Grant was just putting whatever flavor he liked into the cups. You chuckled softly before walking over to the rows of toppings. You decided to go with white chocolate chips and chunks of Oreo on the top.

Grant walked over to you, smiling. He had at least five different flavors in his cup. He puts loads of toppings on. Ranging from sprinkles, to different fruits. All you could do was laugh at him and his child like behavior.  It cam time to pay for your treats. You each weighed your cups, Grant’s obviously being the heaviest. Thankfully, if you had a cup over two pounds you got one cup free. You paid for yours, although Grant had argued that it was no big deal if he paid for yours, you still did t. The idea of someone else paying for your own treat made you a bit upset.

After grabbing a set of spoon you and Grant exited the shop and started your journey around town. The two of you ate you yogurt, smiling at one another when ever you’d catch the other staring at you.

“So, how’s being the new face of ‘The Flash’?” Grant asked, taking another bite of his frozen treat.

“It’s fun, a bit stressful, to be honest. But no one can take the place of Barry Allen.” You chuckled. “But it is fun.” You smile. “How does it feel to be on the sidelines?”

Grant shrugged. “A lot less stressful than being on camera 24/7, but I do miss it.” You nodded, understanding his feelings.

The two of you walked around town for a little while longer before deciding to head back to the car. As the two of you walked, Grant abruptly stopped, taking your hand and turning you towards him. You gave him a nervous look, wondering what his sudden action was about. He seemed nervous as well, his eyes kept glances back and forth from your eyes to your nose and to your nose to your lips. It only took you a short time to wrap your head around the fact that Grant was debating on kissing you. Gathering up your courage you closed the space between the two of you, you faces so close you could feel his breathe fanning your face.

Grant took your action as the ‘go ahead’ signal to kiss you. His lips fell onto yours quickly, in a needy, but passionate kiss. Your lips seemed to mold to his, as the two of you moved as one together. His hands fell to yours hips, holding you close to him as you held the back of his neck, keeping him close to you.

It only took a few more minutes for the two of you to pull away, breathing heavily with swollen lips. You hadn’t realized that you had your eyes closed the entire time, even when you had pulled away. Your Y/E/C eyes fluttered open, looking with Grant’s glowing green orbs. The two of you smiled softly at each other, still holding onto one another.

“I really like you, Y/N.” Grant breathed out. “Hell, I think I love you.” Your heart skipped a beat. Did he mean it?

You let out a heavy breathe, “Grant I have waited so long for you to say that. You have no idea how hard it was for me to see you and Candice acting like a couple. Kissing, hugging, holding each other. I wanted that to be me so badly. I wanted to say something but I didn’t want to ruin-”Grant quickly cut off your rambling with another kiss, making you smile against his lips.

“It can be you now, here, in real life.” He said softly. His hand brushed your cheek and you gently leaned into his touch. You nodded, accepting his words. He let out a happy breathe, his lips cracking into a smile. You couldn’t help yourself and smile as well, the sight in front of you making your heart swell. “I should probably take you back to your car, it’s getting late and cold.” Grant said. You frowned but nodded. You wanted to stay with him for the rest of the night.

You two walked back to where your car was pared, hands intertwined with one another’s. You were happy that the person you had lied for so long was finally yours. When you got your car you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t want Grant to leave you, you wanted him to come with you to talk and cuddle in your bed, to keep each other warm as you slept.

“Stay with me tonight.” You say quickly. Grant’s eyes widen. “I-I want you stay with me at my place tonight.” I stumble out. Grant’s silence worried you. Did he not want to stay at your place? Did he not want to take that big of a step so quickly? You quickly regretted saying anything, but when Grant nodded and smiled your worries seemed to wash away. You let out a relieved sigh. Unlocking the car you walked to the driver’s side and got in, starting up the engine and waiting for Grant to get in.

As you drove Grant kept his hand on your inner thigh, rubbing his thumb over the material of your clothes. You couldn’t stop the heat pooling your core. You wanted him so bad. Grant seemed to want you as well, since you could see his semi-hard on through his jeans. You picked up the speed, making it back to your home within minutes.

The two of you got out of the vehicle quickly, knowing that you both needed each other at that very moment. You fumbled with your house keys before unlocking the front door and pushing it open, rushing inside with Grant hot on your heels. When you closed the door, Grant had already pushed you against the wooden frame, his lips greedily pushing against yours. You moaned a little at the force of the kiss. Both yours and Grant’s hands tugged at each other’s clothes, ripping off your coats and then shirts. You kicked off your shoes, Grant following your motions.

“Jump.” Grant breathed out, lips ghosting over your ear. You did as told, jumping and wrapping your legs around his lower back. He caught you quickly, wrapping his arms under your thighs and pulling your clothed crotch onto his. You both moaned at the feeling of the smallest taste of friction. Grant walked the two of you up the stairs, finding his way to your bedroom. Once you two were in your room he dropped you onto your bed and sat up to take his jeans off. You quickly did the same, not wanting to waste anymore time.

Grant watched you, hypnotized as you slipped out of your jeans so easily. You blushed once you caught his gaze, your skin turning a light shade of red. He chuckled, crawling over you, laying you flat on your back. You mentally cursed yourself for not wearing a more colorful bra or underwear set, but then again you didn’t know this was going to happen. Grant’s hands grazed your sides, slipping under your bra and undoing the clip with ease. You were definitely surprised he had done that so easily, since everyone else had a much harder time.

Once Grant had dropped your bra onto the ground you absentmindedly covered your chest. Grant frowned, not understanding why you were being so self-conscious all of a sudden. His hands fell onto yours gently, moving your hands away from your chest. 

“You don’t have to cover yourself in front of me, Y/N/N. I think you’re beautiful.” Grant nuzzled his face into your neck, your Y/H/C hair being pushed to the other side. You couldn’t help but smile as he pressed gentle kisses along your neck and under your ear. He moved down, leaving a trail of hickies and  love bites down your chest. His lips latched around each of your nipples, swirling the hardening bud between his teeth for a few minutes before going over to the other one and repeating the process. When he felt like he was done with your nipples he moved further down South, leaving the same trail down your skin.

Grant looked at you, his eyes asking if he could take off your last piece of clothing. You nodded, sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth in anticipation. Grant slid two fingers through your wet folds, before pushing them deep into your cunt. You moaned out loud, slightly arching your back from the bed. Grant smirked, watching your facial expressions change every time he would curl his fingers inside of you.

You couldn’t take it any longer. You wanted Grant now.

When Grant slipped his fingers from inside you, you took the chance to flip your positions. Your body on top of his. A small smirk spread across his face as he watched you take over from there. You moved your hands down to his boxer briefs, slightly palming him through the fabric. He let out a low grunt, shut his eyes for only a second before looking at you again. You winked at the man underneath you before sliding his boxers off and throwing them with the rest of the clothes. His length was hard against your inner thigh, and the small feeling of your skin against his made both of you moan.

Not wanting to waste more time, you sat on your knees, thighs spread out over Grant’s crotch. You tugged at him a few times before pushing him into you. Grant’s hands flew to your hips, helping you steady yourself as you were lowered onto his cock. He stretched you out, filling you and molding your walls perfectly. After you had adjusted you started to move up and down his length, moaning every time he was pushed back into you. It felt amazing to say the least. His tip would hit your g-spot, causing the both of you to grunt or let out a string of curse words. His hands dug into your sides, or moved to your ass and grabbed handfuls of the soft flesh. You would no doubt have bruises in the morning.

Your pace picked up, your skin slapping down onto Grant’s with each thrust of your body. Your hands held tightly onto Grant’s biceps, giving you leverage as you thrusted your body onto him. He grunted your name over and over again,pulling your chest down onto his so he could meet your lips with his.  You moaned against his mouth, giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue into your mouth. You let his tongue roam your mouth, massaging your tongue and running over every little crevice inside your mouth.

Neither of you were really vocal, you were to lost in the pleasure to even think of any words to say besides his name. When Grant realized that you were getting tired he flipped the two of you over again, hooking one leg over his shoulder and wrapped the other around his back. The new angle gave him a better opportunity to thrust deeper into your pussy.

You moaned loudly as he did so, thrusting quickly and roughly, seeming to go deeper each time he plunged back in. You thought you were getting to loud so you covered your mouth, biting the skin on your hand to try and quiet yourself. Grant moved your hand though, and held it above your head.

“Let everything out baby, I want everyone to hear how good I’m making you feel.” He groaned. You obliged, moaning and cursing each time you felt him go deeper or hit your sweet spot.

It didn’t take long for his own thrusts to slow and become sloppy. You knew he was getting to his end and he knew you were getting to yours.

“Fuck, Grant I’m about to cum.” You gasped. Grant nodded, locking his lips with yours before he stopped his thrusts, his cock twitching inside you as he came with a loud grunt against your lips. His orgasm set off yours, and the feeling of being so connected to one another amplified every thing you were feeling for him.

When your body relaxed, Grant slipped out of you and laid down next to you, running his hands down your hot flesh. You turned your head, smiling softly at him. He looked so handsome in the dim light, with his hair stuck to his forehead due to the seat that trickled down his face. You liked -no loved- the sight in front of you. he returned the smile, pulling your face to his and placing a small, but soft kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you Grant, I have for such a long time.” you whispered. You looked up at Grant through your eyelashes and blushed when he smiled down at you. Something about him made you feel all giddy and excited inside.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He mumbled. You smiled and gave him one last kiss before the two of you fell asleep in ach other’s arms.

anonymous asked:

I work at a fro-yo place & we had a family of 7 come in & they were impatient af so my employee weighed each cup as they came (so separate) & the when the last cup came through, the total was around 40 & dad did not understand how it was so much. He payed it but then wanted to speak to me about getting a refund AFTER they had finished eating? His kids piled on the toppings, they all got a shit ton of yogurt & weight count was right. Maybe watch your kids so they don't get so much shit next time

fudge-the-otter  asked:

Whats some advice for someone that feels broken?

Hmm… I’ve been thinking for a bit how to approach this question of yours. I’ve seen you ask it to many others, so I feel it would be best to speak the truth of my experience and make what I say meaningful. 

As with many things in life, the answer depends. We can all make our attempts to offer some sort of guiding light based on our own experiences or those we have learned by listening to others’ struggles. Any advice I could give will always be at the very least a level removed from reality. One would assume facts about you that may not be true, and thus the advice, even if only the tiniest bit, may be misguided. My goal is to navigate this line and offer you something that you yourself can fill in. Perhaps you could compare it to me having a drawing but letting you color in, but even that would assume I’ve drawn what you’ve wanted me to draw. 

But I digress. To address your question without assuming what had caused it, I would like to say that things never leave you. Every thing imprints on us in some form or another. The scar metaphor is a common one: some scars are small and barely noticable with the passage of time; bigger ones remain as a painful reminder daily. However, I feel that many leave the metaphor too early and focus on the wrong angle. Scars never fade, sure, but they heal. And they become a part of you. To try and erase whatever has broken you would be to ignore you entirely. I would find it an insult to pretend something bad could just be ignored and forgotten when it so obviously hurt the person. The important part I wish to stress, however, is that you can still have scars from being broken and still be you. Still be happy.

There is another story I’ve seen spreading around. About a therapist in a room full of patients holding a semi-full glass of water. Whereas everyone predicted she would ask if the cup was half-full or half-empty, she instead asked how much did they think the cup weighed. Answered very from low to high. However, the therapist answered that regardless of the perceived weight of the glass, no matter how full or small, the longer one holds it up, the more tiresome and difficult it becomes to hold it. You’d be okay for a few minutes, sure, but an hour? A day? A year? Decades? You see, the important part was not how much it weighed, it was whether or not they could learn to put it down and rest. You’ll always have to pick up the water from time to time and drink from it, but you need to remember it is okay to put the cup down. To take a break. To let go and forget. 

Lastly, I want to say that no one can guarantee a fix. As mentioned before, anyone trying to fix you can never make you what you are; they can only make you into their perception of you. To try to erase whatever has made you feel broken would be to erase the you who went through it to begin with. Instead, I offer this:

There are an awful lot of things that will hurt you in life. But there are also a lot of things that will help you enjoy life as well. Acknowledge both, but put your passions and efforts at the forefront. You can’t choose what happens to you, but you do get to decide what you pursue and be your key features. This is your story. Every story has its ups and downs, but you get to decide your words and direction come the resolution. 

Take it easy. I hope something I gave can help. 

oceansideopus  asked:

Omg the NurseyDex NHL fics!!! Bless you they are perfect!!So when they come out would they change their names on their jerseys?

(NHL PART 1 // PART 2)

The Stanley Cup weighs 34.5 pounds.

The first time Dex lifted it, he would’ve told you it was weightless.

This time, five years later, he feels every ounce of that 34.5. This time, the cup is weighted down by the knowledge that this is the last time he’ll ever get it. The last time he’ll play in the NHL. The last celly he’ll have with his husband. It’s a good weight, he decides. He figures it’s probably as heavy as Claire was the first time he picked her up. It’s a good reminder of why they’re retiring, actually. They’d been talking about it from the beginning of the season, but the call that the adoption had finally, finally gone through in April had decided it. Going out on a win seemed like a fairy tale, but amazingly, impossibly, they pulled it out. When Dex hands the cup over to Nursey, they’re both crying.


By the time the parade rolls around, they’ve officially changed their names to Nurse-Poindexter - a little consistency that they’d both agreed would be good for Claire when they get her next week - Wednesday, to be exact. They’re both counting down the days. PR’s already got the press conference scheduled for Monday, and the media’s going crazy speculating that they’re retiring. It’s true, but Dex really doubts that will be the main focus of the media when they’re done.


How long?”

It’s the million-dollar question, apparently. There’s no correct answer except forever.

“From the first time I saw him,” Nursey answers, and that seems about right.


Dex doesn’t think they could’ve planned this any better. Most of the media frenzy happens Tuesday, while they’re running around the house trying to be completely sure it’s ready for a four-year old with a penchant for getting into things she shouldn’t. Both of their families are there, holding their phones hostage and screening every call, just to be sure it’s not the adoption agency.


Nursey cries when Eichs brings over the present on behalf of the team. Three jerseys - 28, 24, and 2 - all under “Nurse-Poindexter.”

“Let me tell you, equipment had a hell of a time fitting all that on a toddler’s jersey,” Jack laughs.


Being back at KeyBank for the banner raising is heavy, and Dex can feel the waves of nerves coming off of Nursey. Claire can too, apparently, because she’s climbing all over him and tugging at his hair in what Dex can only imagine is an attempt to distract him.

Dex’s heart rate picks up when they start the roster. He holds his breath as he hears “Number 24, William Nurse-Poindexter.”

The crowd is cheering so loud Dex forgets to wave at the camera like he’s supposed to.

“Number 28, Derek Nurse-Poindexter.”

The roar gets even louder, and Dex thanks god for the headphones they put on Claire. Dex looks down to check on her, and has to laugh when he sees her pulling faces at the camera. He pulls her and Nursey both into a hug, and the noise reaches a crescendo. Eichs and the rest of the team are pounding their sticks on the ice, and Bylsma next to him is patting them both on the back.


@DNurse28: when your daughter asks for a @ChrisChowder jersey for Christmas because “Uncle Chris actually plays hockey, Daddy.” #wrekt

@WJPoindexter24: @DNurse28 #confirmed our daughter is a savage

@ChrisChowder: @WJPoindexter24 @DNurse28 WHY DIDN’T SHE ALREADY HAVE MY JERSEY I’M HER GODFATHER

anonymous asked:

AU where Steve didn't crash land but Peggy thinks he did. He shows up and they have their dance

“Steve…?” The tears spills before she can stop them; her lower lip trembling, heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. There is no response, just static. 

“Steve?” She tries again, just to assure herself of the truth she already knows. Steve Rogers is gone and there is nothing she can do to change it.

Peggy goes to the Stork Club anyway. She wears the red dress and matching lipstick, her hair done and her heels polished. She can’t remember a time she’d put so much effort into anything. Maybe it’s because she silently hopes if she puts all the feelings she never voiced out there, if she hopes hard enough, Steve will be there. He’ll crack a joke about being late, maybe stutter through an apology and everything will be right.

But a piece of her knows that she’s dressed so well because she’ll be saying good-bye. Steve is gone, and this will be the final nail in the coffin.

She sits alone, sipping a drink, her eyes flitting over the smiling couples on the dance floor. The music is loud and the happiness in the air feels like it’s suffocating her. This isn’t right! Steve should be beside her. They should be out there on the dance floor, laughing and smiling like fools, because maybe Steve couldn’t dance to save his life but she’d considered it worth it if it meant she got to be held by him.

She downed the rest of the drink in one gulp, the liquid burning on the way down. 

A man in a cheap suit slides into the empty seat beside her. He smells like cheap cologne and booze and the roguish smile on his unshaven face makes her want to punch him in the teeth. “Hey, doll,” he drawls. “What’s a pretty dame like you doing here by yourself?”

She weighs the empty cup in her hand like she’s considering bashing it against his head. “Waiting for my date,” she replies tersely.

The man glances around with a chuckle on his lips. “Don’t see nobody coming this way.”

Her heart aches at the thought and she glances at the door again, just in case. Through her teeth she hisses, “He’ll be here.”

“Come now, doll, why don’t I take your mind off it with a dance?” 

A firm hand suddenly clamps down on the man’s shoulder. “Actually, she owes me a dance.”

She could swear the figure before her was an alcohol induced vision. Steve was dead, she’d come here tonight to convince herself of it, but there he stood, tall in his uniform, grinning slightly.

“Sorry, I’m late, Peggy,” he says as he hauls the man to his feet.

“Steve?” She fumbles for the right words, her hands trembling.

The man takes the hint and slinks off to the next table where a cluster of girls sit ogling Steve.

“I thought-” The tears flow again. “I thought you were dead.”

He grabs her hand and places it on his chest, over his heart, letting her feel the pulse beating beneath her palm. “I couldn’t leave my best girl,” Steve whispers with a smile. “Not when she owes me a dance.”

She’s so happy, so overwhelmed, she forgets all sense of decorum and manners and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him like they’re the only people in the room. Steve’s hand cups her cheek, holding her close as he dares in a public setting.

“How?” She asks when she finally pulls away.

He shrugs, “I bailed out right before the ship hit the ice. Figured I’d rather swim than be a popsicle.”

“I was so worried!”

He gathers her in his arms, hugging her tight. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Peggy shakes herself, regaining control of herself. “Well, I suppose I did promise you a dance.”

Steve flashes her the brightest grin she’s ever seen and her heart melts a little. There aren’t enough words to describe how happy she is that he is here.

She leads him to the dance floor and places one hand on her hip, the other in her own hand. “Now,” he’s starring down at their shoes, already worried about stepping on her toes. 

She puts her finger under his chin and tilts his head back up with a smile. “Keep your eyes on me, Steve.”

“Always,” he whispers softly.

“Just follow me,” she pulls him backwards as she steps back and then to the left. Steve’s eyes remain rooted to her face as best he can, but the moment he actually does step on her toes he pulls his gaze away.

“I’m so sorry! See, what did I tell you?” His voice is teasing, but somehow apologetic as well.

Peggy merely laughs it off. “Come on. Let’s try again.” Before long they’re swirling around the dance floor, lost in the music, lost in each other. Steve still managed to step on her toes twice more before he really gained his confidence and managed to lead her through a song. 

They danced until the club closed and then stumbled out into the darkness with their arms slung around each other. 

“Was it worth the wait?” Steve asks as they walk down the street. “I mean, did you find the right partner?”

Her heart is so full it could burst. She places a kiss on his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark. “I wouldn’t want any other partner but you.”

2

All right kids, let’s talk about water retention!

I retain water like crazy. My body hoards water at the slightest provocation or alteration to my routine. And that’s okay, and normal, and expected. It’s a super basic thing that our bodies do, but we throw around the term “water retention” like it’s such a Big Fucking Deal.

Bodies are full of water, all the time. It’s not just your stomach and digestive system holding the water, it’s also each individual cell and its constantly changing levels of hydration. But for a ton of infuriatingly miseducated reasons, people are so damn hung up on their scale weight! People make knee-jerk reactive decisions about what they’re allowed to eat that day, or how much cardio to do, or what their moral worth is or whatever, all based on that random meaningless little scale number. A number that is, more often than not, due to water retention.

Please consider the above photos of a drinking cup. This cup weighs 13.6 ounces, as displayed by the kitchen scale in the lefthand picture. This cup is 8 inches tall and 3 inches across. In the second picture, the cup has been filled with water. The cup now weighs nearly 1.5 pounds, almost twice as much.

Did the cup, as a unit, become “heavier”? Yes.

Did the cup itself increase in mass? Did the cup become larger? Did the cup suddenly gain extra “cup” out of nothing? NO! The cup isn’t any larger or more massive. It is simply full of water, and therefore it weighs more on the scale.

Water is, and should be, everywhere in your body. Depending on your current lifestyle, you may simply be retaining some extra water. It’s nothing to stress about. Exactly how much water you are retaining is dependent on many situational, health, and lifestyle factors, highlighted below:

  • Do you drink enough water? If you don’t, your body is clinging to what it can get, which translates to extra water weight. Drink more water.
  • Do you eat a lot of preservatives, artificial foods, and/or refined carbohydrates? Preservatives are often in the form of sodium, which is an electrolyte that tells your body to retain water. Artificial ingredients are commonly a result of factory processes that alter its natural state, which means your body probably doesn’t recognize it and will retain water as a stress/flush response to the “foreign substance. The human body retains about four grams of water for every one gram of carbohydrates consumed - again, this is natural and not a bad thing, but since refined carbohydrates are absorbed quickly and are often consumed excessively, this may contribute to extra water retention. Gradually shift your diet to include more whole, fresh foods and your body may release some of the water.
  • Do you get enough sleep? If not, your cortisol levels (a stress reaction hormone) are too high. Guess what? Water retention. A stressed body will always hang on to water, its most precious resource, just in case something really bad happens. This is a survival mechanism.
  • Are you mentally or emotionally stressed? See above re: cortisol. Mental and emotional stress cause a physical response.
  • Do you eat enough? Restriction creates water retention by causing physical stress response in the body. 
  • Do you eat too much? Overeating causes water retention. This is primarily due to digestion, since your digestive system requires more water to process a larger amount of food, but it may also be due to an increased carbohydrate intake (as previously discussed).
  • Are you on your period? If you are, I personally advise you to NOT step on the scale unless you’re immune to number fear (if you are, that’s great, just saying). Your uterus is literally shredding part of itself and regrowing new tissue. Your hormone levels are all over the map. You have earned the right to be bloated and moody. It is natural and understandable.
  • Have you fasted, “cleansed”, or crash dieted recently? Sudden decreases in intake are pretty much guaranteed to cause bloat once you return to a regular routine. Low-calorie diets cause your body to burn its glycogen stores, and since each gram of glycogen is bound to 3-4 grams of water (see above re: carbs), burning glycogen also means losing water. Glycogen is your body’s main source of fuel, and your body will eagerly start storing it again once you return to any semblance of normal eating, even if that eating is super healthy. This is why fad/crash diets look successful on paper but are spectacular failures in real life. It’s always good to focus on small, long term changes rather than quick fixes.
  • Have you voluntarily purged recently? Both deliberate vomiting and laxative use are forcing your body to rapidly dehydrate. This is something bodies generally don’t like doing, so your body is responding in panic by hoarding water “just in case”.
  • Are you constipated? Gross, but it does cause your body to hoard water in an effort to get things moving, so to speak.
  • Do you exercise? Inactivity makes your body generally slower and less efficient at processing stored water. Try a few days of moving around a little bit if you feel bloated.
  • Are you on any medications? NSAIDs, birth control/hormonal treatments, corticosteroids, and some blood pressure medicines cause significant water retention
  • Are you lifting weights? Strength training in particular creates temporary “water padding” in the muscles to aid their recovery and performance. This is technically considered water weight, but in this case it’s specifically a good thing.
  • Do you live an overall healthy, moderate lifestyle? This is so simple as to be condescending, but people somehow manage to ignore the fact that if your lifestyle is imbalanced, so is your body.

If you’re retaining water, be patient and let it leave on its own, which it will, you’ll pee it out over a few days. Eat good foods. Do not restrict or overexercise (this actually makes it worse). Water has weight too, and just because it’s showing up on the scale DOES NOT MEAN THAT “YOU GOT FAT”. Fat gain doesn’t happen overnight. The amount of extra food you’d have to consume to create that kind of fat gain is extreme and unlikely. Your body doesn’t suddenly start storing multiple pounds of fat for no reason, especially when the majority of people I interact with would actually be better advised to eat more, not less. Please calm down.

End note: 5 pounds of water looks scary as hell on the scale, but that’s less than a one-gallon jug of milk. Quite honestly, I pee more than that in a single day. Keep it in perspective. Everything is gonna be okay.

dollylynnn - Universe#614🍓

Hi!! I’m here again with my new collection. I just picked up from post office today and I really really love it!! So, this person is I really adore so much, she also got twins!! I met them once at tlp in msia bcs I’m buying stuff from them (which I’ll show it soon). Let’s get going!!  I will tell the name of the things based from her details. 

This is the packaging

After I opened the package

The things inside it. Okay I started to list the things

🍓 Cold cup (weighs around 210g)

🍓 iRing

🍓 A5 Notebook

🍓 Ziplock Pouch

🍓 10 pcs Photocards

🍓 2 pcs Transparent Photocards

🍓 2 pcs A6 Stickers (not die-cut/kiss-cut) & 1 pc Free Gift Sticker


🍓 Free Gift Set

🍓 Full preview

I love this because it’s so cute and of course it’s Chanbaek. I have bought many things from them and hope they will make another project.

Thank you

6

Gyokuro Saturday! Gyokuro (玉露) translates as ‘Jade Dew’ and is grown in the shade instead of the harsh sunlight. The tea leaves are a lushious dark green and had a light fresh roasted seaweed grassy scent. I warmed the Houhin (ほうひん) pot and cups, weighed the right amount of leaves and waited for the water temperature to dip to 60 degrees.

The magic happened when the warm water touched the leaves - the leaves literally turned bright green and began blooming and unfurling softly to reveal that fresh grassy color. The first cup was intoxicating - the seaweed scent lingered, the tea started out mildly sweet and ended off on a brisk grassy note. My mom and sister enjoyed it though my dad was not a fan (which was unsurpising since he’s not a fan of any green tea’s grassy notes.) I steeped the tea about 5-6 more times and each pour had a consistent bright jade green tint.

By the last cup, the tea taste had lightened and out came the ponzu sauce. The Gyokuro leaves were soft and retained a similiar texture to vegetables boiled in chinese herbal soups. Compared to the other leaves I sampled, Gyokuro was significantly less chewy and much less bitter.

The whole process was a little more time consuming this round as I watched the temperature, weight and brewing time a little more carefully. I’m looking forward to my next brew - I realize I take time to appreciate the tea (I’m slow) but the more I sample it, the more notes I taste, the more complex scents I pick up. Here’s to my next pot!

10 Facts That Will Amaze You #11

1. Consumption of caffeine increases focus for men, but not women.

2. The less you use your brain’s frontal lobes, the “hotter” you think you are.

3. People feel better on the weekends thanks to uncontrollable chemical reactions.

4. People who use “upspeak” (to make a statement sound like a question) tend to have superior empathy.

5. Taking a break after work or a class helps you retain the information you learned.

Keep reading

Coach

Calum Hood One-Shot

A/N: This was highly requested that I continue this & I’m sorry it took so long. This part does not contain smut but if enough people want, I’ll continue into a part three! xx

Part I

Part II 

When I had gotten home from practice, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Yeah, I had homework to do, but that was the least of me worries. Let’s be honest, I just had sex with my soccer coach in the girls locker room showers, I was about to burst if I didn’t tell someone. But, I couldn’t tell anyone, Lexi, god she would have a freak out and probably die over the phone, or anyone else on the team for that matter. I was completely alone in this situation, yet I was totally fine with it and I definitely wanted it to happen again.

I made my way up into my room where a big poster of David Beckham hung on my wall. It had been there since I was younger and really first started getting into soccer. He was so young in it, but I could never bring myself to throw it away. I think I loved it a little too much. Even though he had always been a love of mine, I didn’t bother to even look at it right now. I plopped right on my bed and started scrolling through my phone. Just as I did so, an unknown number texted me.

Hey girls, it’s your coach. I wanted to reach out to you in a group message to let you all know this is how I will be getting a hold of you. This is my personal number, but that does not mean you get to prank call me when you’re drunk, yes I know you do that. Expect to get practice and game messages through this. Basically, this is your way to reach me for the season. Calum.

Even through is message I could sense the maturity that he held and I wasn’t even weirded out that I had no idea how he even got my number. All that was important to me was that I now had his.

Keep reading

In the Night ➤ Melanie + Fabian

With the end of the term and graduation, the situation with her father and Sirius’ family, and the House Cup weighing heavily on Melanie’s mind, she hadn’t been getting much sleep at night. Her thoughts ran a hundred miles a minute during the day as it was - when she was stressed, it was amplified by about thirty times, and as a result it made it impossible for her to settle enough to properly drift off. Melanie usually dealt with it, but when the early hours of the morning struck and she still wasn’t even close to getting any sleep, she’d slipped out of bed entirely on a whim.

She moved silently through the castle, not caring that she was only wearing one of Fabian’s old shirts and a thin pair of shorts she’d thrown on last minute before she’d left (being caught pantless would have been rather problematic), and it didn’t take too long for her to make her way into the Gryffindor common room and up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. She maneuvered easily around the various items that littered the floor - boys, she thought to herself for what had to be the hundreth time - and automatically crossed the room to Fabian’s bed. Her legs looked paler than usual in the moonlight as she slid them beneath the sheets, gently creeping into Fabian’s bed.

Destined Tragedy: Death of Catherine of Aragon’s first son

On the 22nd of February, 1511, Prince Henry, the Duke of Cornwall, suddenly died only after only 52 days of life. He was born on the 1st of January 1511 at Richmond Palace, eighteen months after his parents’ wedding and their joint coronation. 

Little Henry was the first son and first living child born of King Henry VIII and his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, but he was destined to predecease his father. No picture of the prince remained.

Edward Hall, the infamous Tudor chronicler, recorded the boy’s death:

“After this great joy came sorowfull chaunce, for the young Prince, which was borne upon Neweyeres daye last past, upon the. xxii. daye of February, beyng then the eve of sainct Mathy, departed this world at Rychcmonde, and from thense was caryed to Westmynster, and buryed.

The kyng lyke a wyse prynce, toke this dolorous chaunce wonderous wysely, and the more to comfort the Quene, he dissimuled the matter, and made no great mourning out-wardely: but the Quene lyke a naturall woman, made much lamentacion, how be it, by the kynges good persuasion and behauiour, her sorowe was mytigated, but not shortlye.”

When Catherine delivered a son on the 1st of January 1511, the royal couple and their courtiers were overwhelmed with joy and gladness. 

King Henry didn’t spare expenses on celebrations: two hundred and seven pounds of gunpowder was spent firing salute after salute in the Tower of London, bonfires burned in the city, many fountains ran with wine and processions of thanksgiving passed through the streets. Everyone’s mood was festive, and nobody imagined that the boy would die so soon after his birth.

David Starkey gives a detailed account about the boy’s christening on the 5th of January 1511:

“For greater ceremony, the christening was ‘deferred’ until Sunday the 5th. It took place in the church of the Observant Friars (Catherine’s favourite Order) at Richmond Palace. Rails and posts were erected from the Great Hall to the church to make a processional way, twenty-four feet wide. This was gravelled and hung with tapestry. Inside the church, the great silver font stood on a high, stepped platform. The boy’s godfather was King Louis XII of France and his godmother the Archduchess Margaret. And he was christened Henry. The heralds cried his name and titles – ‘Prince Henry, first son of our sovereign lord King Henry VIII’ – and the proud father rewarded them with the extravagantly large sum of £20.2

As protocol dictated, neither Catherine nor Henry was present at the christening. Instead, Catherine remained within her Chamber. After the christening, her son was brought back to her in procession, preceded by his baptismal gifts. These were carried in the order of the rank of the giver and were headed by the magnificent presents from his godfather, Louis XII: a great salt, weighing fifty-one ounces, and a cup, weighing forty-eight ounces, both of fine gold. The gifts and the child were presented to the Queen by her ladies.”

When Prince Henry died, Catherine was distraught and inconsolable in her grief; she was overcome by the agony of her sorrow. However, King Henry took the news of his son’s death with a façade of courage, calmness, and dignity: he concealed his feelings of grief and disappointment and comforted his wife, probably saying in response to her lamentations that they both were still young and would have more healthy children.

No blame was attached to the nursery staff for the little prince’s death, for the child seemed to have died of natural causes. The exact reason of Prince Henry’s death is unknown, but there is no evidence that the boy was born a sickly baby who was more likely to die than to live and thrive. His death was sudden and unexpected, hitting the king and the queen very hard. According to some sources, the child died of an intestinal complaint.

The boy received a state funeral at Westminster Abbey; he was buried on the north side of the Sanctuary area near the entrance to the chapel of St Edward the Confessor. Alison Weir writes about the prince’s funeral:

“The Keeper of the Wardrobe supplied an elaborate hearse on which the tiny body was conveyed to London. Dozens of wax candles burned around the hearse day and night while a round-the-clock vigil was kept over it by black-clad mourners in Westminster Abbey, where the Prince was afterwards buried late at night in a torch-lit ceremony. “His soul, wrote an observer, was “now among the holy innocents of God.”

Henry VIII made no further outward displays of grief and seemed to have moved on. However, I am sure that the king was disappointed in his queen’s second failure to give him a male heir, although he definitely hoped that they would have more children in the nearest future. It was another two years until the queen again became with child, and in 1513 she birthed a son who was either stillborn or who didn’t survive long.

King Henry wasn’t going to divorce Catherine even after her third failure. He was young and immature in some ways, and he had some growing up to do, which increased his optimism for the bright future with Catherine and an army of Tudor princes, each of them a small copy of “their mighty and great father”

The king always remained an egotistical and spoiled king, a man of a vain and narcissistic spirit. He wasn’t wise enough to realize that he shouldn’t have blamed only his wives for their failures: at least, he could have taken into account the fact that child mortality rate was very high in Tudor England.

Many years later, the afore-mentioned set of qualities – Henry’s huge ego and his narcissism, his obsessive desire to blame others for his possible inability to sire a healthy son, his spoiled nature, and his increasingly evident innate brutality – would play a crucial role in Henry’s decision to get rid of Catherine and marry Anne Boleyn in his quest for a male heir.

Although Catherine was pregnant at least six times, fate played a cruel trick on her: she failed to give England a future king with Anglo-Spanish blood in his veins, which predetermined the demise of her marriage to Henry.