what about the hair down there

For fuck’s sake what the actual fuck is happening why is there a fucking bootleg-Del worm thing near me I was just listening to music what the actual hell is going on are you fucking serious I’m 26 years old and I’m about to shit myself like what the fuck technically I didn’t even have a choice about being in this goddamn band I was like 10 and I didn’t even know my own parents and I was raised by a possessed guy and his ghost friend and a zombie looking blue haired twat and an actual goddamn satanist like how the fuck did I even grow up nicely with these arseholes I just wanna dance and have fun like what the fuck even happened I got fucking gunned down and replaced with a fucking robot and now I’m a goddamn adult woman and I’m still dealing with this shit I’m too tired for this what the fuck even is this snake looking fuck get away from me what the actual fuck I’m going to piss myself what the fuck. what the fuckk

a malec au where alec is a libraian’s assistant at the local library with cute glasses and who can always be found with his nose in a book in the corner (most likely shakespeare or robert frost) and magnus goes in one day to check out a book and the librarian is sick so alec is manning the library and magnus immediately sees him and is struck by a love arrow of cupid cause wow is that nerdy tall boy with the flushed cheeks and messy hair and oversized sweater is adorable and alec is so enchanted by the gorgeous beautiful muscular man with glitter on his cheekbones and in his hair and the exquisite and lavish clothing and the kind look in his pretty eyes and everything about him is perfect and magnus goes to the front desk where alec is and alec realizes that he’s been staring for a while and he coughs and looks down, blushing like crazy as magnus smirks at him. “what do you want to check out?” alec stammers and magnus grins at him, mischief in his eyes. “the librarian.” he replies flirtatiously and alec chokes on his tongue (the fact that he’s not even techincally the librarian doesn’t matter to him now).

The GazettE men helping you deal with stress

Ruki: It doesn’t matter what you’re stressed about, he’ll always be there for you. When he sees you starting to stress out, he’ll sit down and gently ask you if you need any time alone, and will leave you alone if you say yes. If you say no, Ruki will lead you to either the bed or the couch and cuddle you, asking you to tell him about it. And as you talk, he’ll stroke your hair and gently comfort you by kissing your forehead and rubbing your back. When you’re finished, he’ll tell you that you’re strong and that he’s proud of you before gently singing ‘Tomorrow Never Dies’ to you. And when you went to sleep, Ruki would cuddle you close and encourage you to do your best no matter what ❀.(*´◡`*)❀.

Uruha: When he sees you stressing out, he’d put his hand on your shoulder and tell you that worrying time is over. He’d then bring you to the TV and give you one of his controllers before putting a fighter game on. The two of you would spend the evening playing fighting games together, with Uruha making silly comments like a sports announcer as you play, which makes you smile and laugh. At the end of it, he’d have a shower with you, where he washes your hair to relax you. By the time you go to bed, you’d be feeling significantly calmer and Uruha will tell you that you’re a hard worker and that he’ll always be there to de-stress you (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Aoi: He’d be very understanding and patient towards you. When he sees you stressing out, he’d ask you what happened before leading you to the bed. There, he’d have you take your shirt off and lie down face-forward on the bed before giving you a soothing back rub while you talk about what’s stressing you out. Aoi wouldn’t say anything, he’d listen as you spoke, only speaking when you’re done. Afterwards, he would gently kiss down your back before stripping down to his underwear, encouraging you to do the same. You two would cuddle in bed only in your underwear, and Aoi would just kiss your sensitive spots and rub your back while reassuring that it’ll all get better soon and to stay strong. As you two fell asleep, he’d tell you that he’ll be there for you no matter what ੭व(๑• .̫ •๑) ✧

Reita: Exercise with him would be his remedy to your stress lol. Just as you start to stress out, he’d tell you to take a break from whatever’s stressing you out and to come work out with him. The two of you would then do a couples’ workout together, which involves doing push-ups while facing each other, and Reita would let you lie on his back as he did push-ups as well. He’d also have you do sit-ups, encouraging you by kissing you every-time you came up. By the time the workout is over, you’d be feeling a lot more relaxed, and Reita would be happy to see you relaxed and cheerful. The two of you would shower together afterwards, where Reita would tell you that you’re doing your best and to feel free to come and work out with him if you need to de-stress *(*´∀`*)☆

Kai: He’d be a real sweetie towards you. When you’re stressing out, Kai would make you some tea and encourage you to share whatever is stressing you out, and he’d listen to you and try his best to offer advice. Afterwards, he’d lead you to the couch and give you a shoulder massage, which would feel amazing, of course. He’d also dim the lights and put on your favourite music to cheer you up, which would result in the two of you slow-dancing in the living room. When you two are done dancing, Kai would invite you to help him cook dinner as the music plays, and you two would playfully dance in the kitchen while dinner is being cooked. At the end, Kai would kiss your forehead and reassure you that everything is going to be okay and that he’ll always support you no matter what (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*

anonymous asked:

How would Hungary, Ukraine and Belarus reacting to their normally emotionless s/o crying?

Hungary (Elizabeta Héderváry): She’s able to get over the initial shock quite easily. In fact, she’s met many people who seemed to not be the ones to cry and dealt with them amazingly. Why would her S/O be any different? She’ll pull them away so they can sit down and she’ll sit down next to them. She’ll hold them closely and rub their back, playing with their hair and shushing them ever so softly. Once they’re done, she’ll ask what had caused them the stress. If they don’t want to talk about it, she won’t press the matter and instead just sit with them and hold them or give them space. Whatever they ask for, really.

Ukraine (Katyusha Braginskaya): Despite having been a motherly figure to Ivan and Natalya, she’s not the best when it comes down to dealing with tears! Chances are, she’ll start to cry herself, all while trying to calm her S/O down. She’ll manage to bring them over to sit down and sit down with them, still crying softly herself. Then she’ll just… bicker. Ask them what’s wrong and what she can do to help. Seeing her S/O in distress causes her a lot of distress, too.

Belarus (Natalya Arlovoskaya): She’s also the seemingly emotionless person; the type of person that seems she’d never cry. She’ll feel her heart break but won’t break down. Instead she just pulls her S/O into the most loving, relaxing hug they’ve ever felt in their life. She tends to whisper sweet things to them and rub their back. However she won’t ask them what happened– she’ll just tell them to talk to her if they need to.

Tears fill my eyes as I read the words on my screen. The world seems to stop spinning for the slightest second as I re-read the anonymous message over and over again, gripping on to the hope that the words will magically disappear. But they didn’t. Anon had done it; they’d figured out that the only way to make me take off my hijab was to call my hair ugly. My one weakness.

A tear streams down my left cheek.

Eight years of academy hijab training…wasted. I had to prove this extremely relevant and good-looking anonymous person wrong, I cared too much about what they thought. How could I live my life knowing that there is one person out there who thinks probably my hair is ugly maybe? How could I look myself in the mirror? How could I face my family? My shoulders shook as I cried silently, and my chair squeaked ever so slightly at the vibrations; as if it, too, was crying in sorrow.

It wasn’t until that moment that the second part of the message dawned on me… how would I prove them wrong without breaking the rules? Was it really against the rules? I reach into my hijab and pull out a scroll. At the very top, in cursive jet-black inked letters, the word ‘Rules’ stares back at me. My heart is racing as my eyes frantically read the scroll.

‘Rule #1: no killing people,’ it reads. I let out a whimper. There go my evening plans. 

Suddenly, my eye catches the next words. The scroll is rustling in my trembling hands as I turn my face away, tears spraying out of my eyes like the spit of a white person as they try to justify racism. The cursive words felt more like a curse of words, vivid and refusing to disappear as if I were still staring at them even through my closed eyes.

Rule #2: don’t show ur hair girl it’s ugly lmaooooo

In a universe where we age backwards.
We are born at the bottom of graveyards.
Dust becomes bone
Bone become flesh.
As we enter the surface there is light.
Later we will learn that they call it the sun.
For now;
we are wrinkled skin and slow smiles.

We are assigned to younger adults who become our caretakers. Mother. Father. They teach our tongues the words of their people. We get better at remembering.
But no one recalls the life before this one.

We learn to walk without the cane; without the limp.

At school; the best teachers are children. They tell us of all the years they have lived.
Between classes we talk about what we want to be when we grow down.

At graduation, the grey fades and we find out our true hair colour for the first time; women begin to bleed; their breasts rise; our bodies become firmer; the wrinkles smoothen like pressed flowers.
We dance for the first time. And don’t feel tired.

My caretakers are teenagers now. They’re loud and hard to understand. The scientists say it’s something with their hormones. I find that my mother skips work and listens to sad songs; she spends more time looking in the mirror now. My father cries when no ones looking;
it’s hard for a man to become a boy.

When we go to find jobs the younger ones interview us. When we turn 13 we will have to retire.

I save money to put my caretakers into a children’s home when they get younger. Just like they did for their grandparents.

I was assigned my first elderly person. He’s 95 and confined to a wheelchair. He doesn’t have any hair yet but I know it’ll grow soon. Sometimes he grabs my wrist to look at the way our skin doesn’t match. When he gets younger I’ll tell him about race; he’s too old to understand such things. I name him Luke.

I fall in love with a younger man; a writer named Hercules. He says funny things like “Imagine a universe where we age backwards; where we start off babies and die when we grow old.”
I try; but it seems impossible; too farfetched.
At our wedding; Luke is the ring bearer.
(He walks down the aisle without his wheelchair and I can’t help but cry).

Hercules kisses my forehead every time we meet. Says he wants to savour the days when he stands taller than me.

My caretakers are babies now. And Hercules is a teenager. There’s something different about him; he says I’ll understand in a few years.

They say that my mother wouldn’t sleep the night my father passed on; that she wouldn’t stop crying for what seemed like no reason but I think that somehow she knew. He’d been asleep in his crib at the time; the passing often happens this way.

Hercules holds me tighter that night. He’s started having nightmares. I guess it’s harder for a writer. To know that one day he’ll forget how to say how he feels; how to read.
I wonder how babies manage it. To have all these thoughts and no way to express them.

I’m eighteen today and it’s full moon. Hercules takes me to the beach and insists we bathe entirely naked. Between the waves he tells the whole sky of stars that we’re rebels now; that becoming a teenager makes us free in ways I don’t yet understand. I think that he just wants to taste everything before he dies.
After sharing a bottle of wine on the sand with him and dancing to the sound of the ocean’s monologue…
I believe him.

Our love has changed. From candle to fireplace to forest fire. I want to touch him all the time. He likes writing poems on my skin; but says that even without them I’m the best book he’s ever read.

My breasts are shrinking. And my bleeding had stopped. Though no one really understands why it happens. Hercules says maybe it served a purpose in the life before. His voice is high pitched now; more like mine; a sign of maturity.

Being teenagers was hard but nothing prepared me for childhood. They say it is a lot like old age.
Luke put us in the nicest children’s home he could find. It’s full of interesting people who’ve retired like us. But the babysitters are always watching. We play games during the day but they force us to go to bed even if we don’t want to. Hercules and I have to sleep in separate rooms now.

Yesterday they caught Hercules trying to paint his hair grey again. He believes he can fight it somehow. He hates that he can’t stay focused long enough to finish books but he still brings me love letters; crooked hearts coloured with crayons. I stick them on the fridge and stoop so that he can kiss my forehead.

When the babysitter told me that Hercules had passed on… I learnt what it felt like to be crushed. Some days I’d feel the ghost of his lips against my forehead and feel so angry. I’d cry and scream and curse. They called it a tantrum.

I’m five years old now and I’m beginning to understand that the end looks so much like the beginning and that’s why they call it the circle of life.

—  In a universe where we age backwards // Ceres @mentamorphisis
4

It seemed fitting to pull out my old Fanders Army shirt after @thatsthat24 ‘s latest vlog (so fitting to the point whee the moment I got out of class I was running to my car to grab my selfie stick and taking these pictures on the field like a weirdo). And I’ve decided to open up about my own struggles with my body image.


I’ve been overweight for a good portion of my life. I’m still learning how to love my body for what it is. There had been days where I full on broke down because I hated what I saw in the mirror. I’d cry at least twice a week alone in my room because I didn’t think I was beautiful or could ever actually be loved. I was hardly ever content with the way my face looked or my hair length/style. Admittedly, there were some pretty dark thoughts because of these views, but that’s a different story.

It’s been a process, but it’s getting easier to accept myself for who I am. I take a lot of selfies (some would joke I take too many) to force myself to really look at my face and find features that I like (like my eyes look good with this color shirt or that smile looks cute in this photo, etc). I have fun changing my hair color every few months (right now I’m in the Nymphadora Tonks stage of my hair adventure), I do my makeup a different color scheme each day so I can feel like I’m some sort of new painting everyday. I’ve been taking more photos that include my stomach, even though that’s where the majority of my body fat is. I now have three tattoos, two of which are reminders to myself that no matter what my brain tries to tell me: it’s worth it to love myself and to enjoy the life I have, and that the only sharp objects that should ever touch my skin are the ones used to make permanent works of art. 

There’s still some bad days, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve come to realize that the people I choose to surround myself with love me for who I am, and that’s what truly matters. 

So thank you, Thomas, for speaking out about a very important topic, and for constantly bringing a smile to my face even when I’m at my lowest.

 Stay Amazing,

💙 Sam

Locker Rooms Have Sound Proof Walls

1547 words of pure gay.

I apologize for nothing

Punk!Top!Phil, Jock!Bottom!Dan


Dan Howell was not straight.

He realized this as he stumbled out of the boys locker room, dragging his equipment from the game behind him, with what he thought was probably cum running down the back of his leg and dark bruises littering his neck.

It was funny, because he was about the straightest person he knew. He was quarterback of the football team, and he had dated/hooked up with just about every girl on the cheerleading squad.

But he was sure of one thing. Straight people don’t do what he just did.

————————————-

One hour earlier.

————————————-

Dan was usually the last person out of the locker room. He was fine with it, he liked showering alone because he could hum and collect his thoughts, plus no one saw his curly hair when he got out. They had won the last game of the season, and he had gotten about twenty invites to celebrate, Dan Howell never missed a party.

He smiled to himself, running his fingers through his hair and stepping out, wearing only a towel.

“Hey.”

The low voice came from behind him and Dan jumped, whirling around. Phil Lester was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smirking at him.

“Fuck, don’t do that.” Dan pressed a hand to his heart, taking a deep breath. “You scared me.” Phil laughed.

“Oh, did I?”

Phil was the school’s notorious punk, and everyone knew he openly had a crush on Dan. Dan just ignored the rumors, he was straight, it didn’t matter. But now he could feel himself blushing as Phil looked him up and down carefully.

“You’re all big and tough, surely I couldn’t scare you?” He looked around the room, smirking. “Do you think this place has sound proof walls?”

Dan ignored his words, frowning.

“Why are you in here? I don’t think-” Phil stepped forwards, and Dan shut up real quick, taking a small subconscious step backwards.

“I came to see you.” He smirked, walking forwards until Dan was against a wall, the cold tiles startling his wet skin. Phil drew a line up Dan’s arm, and he shivered. “You looked so good out there, Dan. You have such a perfect ass.” To emphasize the words, Phil placed his hand on the wall next to Dan’s head. “God, I’d fuck you so hard. Make you feel so good, baby.”

Dan swallowed.

“I’m straight,” he choked out, finding it hard to speak while Phil was this close to him.

“Mmh,” Phil grunted, leaning just a little bit closer so that his breath was tickling Dan’s ear. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“W-why would I do that?”

“I dunno.” Phil shrugged. “Maybe you don’t want people to know you have a weakness.”

“I’m not lying.”

Phil raised his eyebrows, grinning.

“Prove it.”

Before Dan could say anything Phil was kissing him, pressing him against the wall and connecting their mouths roughly. Dan melted into the kiss, letting Phil take complete control. Phil grabbed his hips, pulling them together so that Dan could feel his erection through his jeans. Phil ran his fingers along the top of the towel. Dan let out a small whimper against his lips.

“Don’t you have a cheerleader girlfriend or something?” Dan asked, pushing him away lightly, his head fuzzy. Phil connected his lips to Dan’s neck, his tongue piercing flicking against the sensitive skin.

“I dropped her,” he muttered, biting softly at Dan’s throat, making him gasp. “It’ll be worth it if I get to fuck your tight ass.”

Dan let out a shaky breath at the words, not realizing he had been holding it in. Phil chuckled softly against his skin.

“Drop the towel, baby. I wanna make you beg for me.”

Dan felt frozen, his legs weak from Phil’s words but he let him pin Dan’s wrists above his head and pull the white towel away.

Phil immediately dropped to his knees, taking Dan’s hard shaft into his hand and licking a stripe from the base to the tip, making Dan moan loudly into the empty bathroom.

“F-fuck,” he stuttered, letting his head fall back and hit the wall, tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair. “God.”

Phil took Dan’s tip into his mouth, humming quietly and sending shocks of pleasure through Dan’s body. Dan tried to pull Phil’s head down on his cock, but he didn’t budge, pulling off with a soft pop.

“Mmmh, did you want something, Dan?” Phil stood up, pinning his wrists again. “Ask for it,” he growled.

Dan whined under his breath, bucking his hips trying to get friction. He didn’t care anymore, he wanted Phil so bad.

“Please,” he practically whispered.

“What was that, baby boy?” He nipped at Dan’s earlobe, laughing softly. “You’ll have to speak a little louder.”

Dan moaned loudly, feeling himself go weak from Phil’s touch.

“Phil! Fuck me! God, please, daddy, I need you!”

As soon as the word daddy left Dan’s mouth Phil had grabbed his hair, practically dragging him to the sinks and bending him over the counter. In seconds his shirt was off, bent over Dan’s body so that his mouth was close to his ear.

“Want me to fuck you, Dan?”

Dan moaned as Phil nipped at the back of his neck softly.

“Yes! God, daddy, please!”

Phil grabbed a fistful of Dan’s hair, pulling his face up and aiming it at the mirror.

“Want you to watch,” he mumbled. “Want you to watch while I ruin you.”

Dan kept his head up, watching carefully as Phil unzipped his jeans and took them off, pulling down his boxers as well. He smirked, leaning down and pulling a small bottle of lube out of the pocket of his jeans.

That fucker came prepared.

He took his time dipping two fingers into the bottle, keeping eye contact through the mirror.

“Ever done this with a boy before, princess?”

Dan shook his head, biting his lip. Phil chuckled.

“Didn’t think so.” He rubbed one finger over Dan’s entrance, and the boy beneath him gasped. “Good. You’re mine now, got it?”

Dan nodded again, not sure he could speak as Phil pushed a finger inside him.

“Fuck, Phil, daddy, GOD!”

Okay, he could speak.

Phil pulled the finger out and pushed back in, taking his time and rubbing Dan’s insides, driving him insane.

“M-more…” Dan stuttered, covering his red face with his hands, embarrassed. Phil reached over him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away.

“Don’t hide from me, baby,” he muttered softly. “Wanna see you fall apart.”

He added a second finger, pumping slowly and deeper, and Dan couldn’t help but let a loud moan rip from his throat.

“Phil! Oh god, oh fuck, please fuck me.”

Phil grinned, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on himself, getting more lube from the bottle.

“Okay, baby. Since you asked nicely.”

With no preparation Phil pressed against Dan’s entrance, pushing in slowly. Dan whined loudly, clawing at the counter beneath him, desperately trying to find something to grab onto. Phil groaned quietly, pushing in all the way and waiting a moment before moving.

He gripped Dan’s hips, digging his fingernails into the soft skin and thrusting into him hard. Dan practically shrieked, moaning continuously as Phil began to thrust into him steadily, roughly.

“God, Dan…” Phil groaned, reaching up to grab a fistful of the boys hair, curly from the shower and sweat. “You’re so fucking tight, you feel so good… fuck, this is what I wanted since I first saw you.”

Dan was just a moaning mess at this point, squirming under Phil’s touch and screaming every time he pounded into him. It felt so incredibly good that Dan couldn’t imagine why he had never done this before.

Oh, right. Because he’s straight.

Phil suddenly quickened his pace, and Dan fucking lost it, begging and curses streaming from his mouth with no control.

“FUCK DADDY PLEASE GOD FUCK ME HARDER!”

Phil laughed, his breathing ragged and leaned over to bite down on Dan’s neck.

“God, you’re so loud…”

Dan could feel himself getting close, and he let a loud whine rip from his throat as Phil thrust into him harder than ever.

“Phil, oh fuck, I’m…”

Phil reached around him, taking his cock in his hand and stroking in time with his thrusts.

“Cum baby, go ahead. Wanna see you let go.”

With those words Dan lost it, cum splattering his stomach and a loud stream of moans along with Phil’s name escaping his lips. Phil groaned loudly, thrusting a few more times before doing the same deep inside Dan.

Phil slowly pulled out, breathing heavily, and carefully turned the other boy around. Without a word he leaned down, running his soft tongue over Dan’s stomach and cleaning up his cum, swallowing it all. Dan could feel his tongue piercing as he lapped at his skin.

Dan didn’t speak, watching Phil with wide eyes as he tried to collect his thoughts and control his heartbeat.

Dan looked at himself in the mirror. There were bruises littering his thighs and hips from Phil gripping them, and dark love bites covering his neck. That was gonna be hard to hide.

Phil caught Dan looking at them, and pulled him into his arms from behind.

“Don’t hide them, baby,” he muttered, placing a gentle kiss to his neck. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

i keep seeing all these posts about how people want to see dan in ripped skinny jeans, but what about Phil in ripped skinny jeans? just imagine him, walking down the streets of london wearing those and a black jumper, complete with windblown hair from the chilly weather and his new glasses, like, fuck me up?????? please?????

What about Credence with panic attacks? What about Credence, who counts freckles on Newt’s face to calm himself down? What about Credence grounded by the feeling of Newt’s fingers in his hair?

What about Newt reading to Credence about fantastic beasts and staying all night so Credence does not have nightmares? What about Newt hugging Credence and praising him for the slightest of achievements untill Credence himself believes that he deserves it?

What about Credence who’s barely breathing and afraid to move, but he is so, so happy because Pickett nested in his hairs for the first time?

What about Newt joking about his creatures that “they love you more than me” and Credence starts to freak out, because it’s wrong and Newt will hate him now and he deserves punishment, and Newt calms hin and tells him that of course they love you, there is nothng in you not to love. And then he says “and I love you too” and it’s the most natural thing to say.

Be with someone who you can giggle with in the shower with absolutely no sexual interaction necessary.

Be with someone you can talk to about absolutely anything.

Be with someone who will hold you and talk you down and fight your demons with you when it becomes too hard to do on your own.

Be with someone who comes home from a long day at work and still wraps you up in their arms as if it’s what they’ve been waiting for all day long.

Be with someone who kisses you on the forehead and the cheek even if you’re sick.

Be with someone who thinks that you are beautiful even when you have no makeup on and your hair is a mess.

Be with someone who offers to help you.

Be with someone who gives you sex eyes even when you’re doing something as simple as cooking because they can’t get enough of you.

If you find someone who can give you all of that and more… my God do not let them go.

the good die young

Sirius Black walked nervously up and down as he watched the events unfold in Hogwarts. The place he knew like the back of his hand, the place where he had the best time of his life with the people he cared about the most. It was crumbling down, every wall that he had once touched, every statue he hid behind, it was all falling apart right in front of his eyes and he hated that he was useless once more. 

Fred Weasley had recently joined them, Sirius watched as this kid watched his family with worried eyes that reminded him so much of Fabian and Gideon. Sirius had watched the brothers comfort the red haired boy who cried breathlessly as he watched his older brother run after his killer. All the things that poor boy must be feeling were nothing compared to what James and Lily were feeling. They knew how this would end, they knew Harry would join them soon. Lily watched with worried eyes as James took his glasses off every two minutes to rub his forehead, like he had a headache he couldn’t get rid of. 

Sirius heard James yell “No” as he fell on his knees and thought that maybe it was the time, maybe his godson was joining them. He didn’t dare turn around, he couldn’t bear seeing him here, not Harry. He closed his eyes and kept them shut, not so fast, this shouldn’t have happened so fast.

“Pads?”

I must be dreaming.  

“Sirius?”

It’s impossible.

“Sirius, open your eyes”

So Sirius did and wished he hadn’t.

No” yelled Sirius as he turned away from the tall man standing in front of him, with two visible scars on his face and tired eyes. “This is not happening. Lily please tell me this is not happening” shouted Sirius as tears were streaming down his face.

“Please Lils” he begged, barely whispering. Sirius looked James with pleading eyes to tell him that the man stood in front of him a second ago was not Remus, was not his Moony. James’ tear stained face was all the answer he needed but didn’t want.

“Sirius,” began Remus, Lily was staring behind Sirius with tear filled eyes, so it was really him. 

“James you should keep watching Harry. I– I got Remus” assured Sirius. James looked torn between Remus and Harry but Sirius knew Harry had to come first. Remus would understand that.

“Hello Professor Lupin” said Fred slowly, Remus flinched at that mention.

“I didn’t– I didn’t know you–”

“The good die young Professor, I hope it won’t be in vain” replied Fred with hope in his voice. Sirius took in Remus completely, the way his amber eyes watered as he smiled to the Weasley kid, the way his head tilted to the side when he felt hopeless. The way he had grown old without him despite all the promises they had made each other.

Sirius slowly walked away from the ever growing crowd around James and Lily, he stopped when he was sure no one could hear them.

“Who was it?” demanded Sirius before Remus could open his mouth.

“Lestrange” replied Remus like he expected Sirius to ask the question. Remus looked around troubled. “Where am I? Purgatory?”

“Well kind of, you don’t move on unless you want to. Afterlife is a better explanation” said Sirius, his eyes hanging on every new scar on Remus’ visible skin. He was sure there were plenty more he couldn’t see. 

“So you are- you are all real? You are real? I’m not in heaven and imagining everything around because I’m d-dead?”

Sirius slowly nodded in response. Remus slowly raised his hand to touch Sirius but he searched for Sirius’ permission to do so. Sirius leaned his head down to let his hand touch like a dog would to his owner. As soon as Sirius felt the warmth of Remus on his skin, he felt all his troubles melt away. 

Remus slowly pulled Sirius in a tight hug as he pressed the shorter man’s head on his chest, his long fingers tangled in Sirius’ long silky hair.

“I thought I had lost you forever” whispered Remus in Sirius’ black hair. He still smelled like chocolate, Sirius inhaled the familiar scent and felt like he was back in Grimmauld Place, 12, two years ago. Intertwined in his bed, the chocolate scent in the corridors of the place he hated so much and Sirius didn’t think he would feel Remus’ rough skin on his soft one anytime soon. Sirius didn’t know what to feel, he had Moony back but he wanted him to live longer than this, he deserved to live longer than this, he deserved happiness.

Remus broke the silence slowly.

“I have to ask you something but I don’t know how to–”

“I am not angry or disappointed in you because you chose happiness Moons. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy,” interrupted before Remus could finish his sentence. Remus cleared his throat to hid the tears pooling in his eyes. “Am I a little jealous of Dora? Yes, but if you were happy, that’s all I ever need,” continued Sirius and he saw Remus smile slightly.

“I missed you with every little piece of my being, I felt numb for days after you were gone and I–” stuttered Remus. “All I wanted was you and I was tired, you know? Everything I ever loved was taken from me and you were the last blow. The thing I loved the most–” Sirius stared at the werewolf in awe, Remus’ amber eyes stared into Sirius’ grey ones with so much love Sirius felt himself drown in it. “What I am trying to say is I have never given up on you Sirius.”

Sirius for once in his life was lost for words. He somehow knew that Remus would never completely forget him but to hear him say it so clearly was so different.

“And I loved her, Tonks I mean, I still do. She is an incredible person and an even better friend. She took care of me and she loved me almost as much as you did and I needed her, I needed to feel that,” babbled Remus, he almost sounded guilty because he wanted happiness. “Then Teddy came, he is so perfect, I wish you met him. Just because I loved Tonks does not mean that I was ever over you, Pads.”

Sirius just stared at him, his eyes fixated on Remus’ lips, taking in every little word that fell from them. Then he slowly reached for Remus’ hand kissed each wounded knuckle. 

At that moment, they didn’t need words or anything else for that matter. Just one look and everything unspoken was out in the open. Remus slowly wiped away the tear from Sirius’ cheek. Sirius realised he started crying way too often but it felt good, to hear those words. Remus turned around to stare at the crowd behind him.

“So, what are James and Lily doing?” 

“They are watching Harry and the others, you can watch people from here. So if you want to you can watch Tonks and Teddy,” said Sirius smiling and Tonks appeared in front of them fighting for her life, duelling two Death Eaters at the same time.

“She should have stayed home” said Remus as he watched Tonks desperately. 

“Well, Blacks aren’t that good at listening and sitting still Remus, you should have learned it by now” admitted Sirius guiltily, he only listened to Remus and no one else. 

Sirius saw the jet of green light flying towards his cousin and saw Remus turn as white as a ghost. Sirius barely heard him say “Please, no” as he searched for Sirius to stay standing. The only thing Sirius could think about was what Fred Weasley said as he accepted his fate, the good die young.

“Morning, Cas.” Dean stifled a yawn as he entered the kitchen, nodding at his friend who was enjoying his coffee while flipping through the pages of some book.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel replied pleasantly, blue eyes briefly blinking up to acknowledge Dean.

Dean affectionately ruffled the angel’s hair before making a beeline for the fridge, his growling stomach voting ’food’ rather than ’coffee’, at least for now. He scrunched his nose when all he found were some take out leftovers that were about as old and hairy as that witch that they hunted a couple of weeks ago. Coffee it was then. And a grocery run later today, Dean made a mental note.

Sitting down across from Cas at the kitchen table, Dean’s eyes fell on the book that Cas seemed to be engrossed in.

“What are you reading?” he asked as he took a sip of coffee, curious as to what could possibly be this interesting at eight in the morning.

Cas peeked up at him again through his lashes, and Dean could swear that he saw the hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Claire gave it to me, I have more of them,” he answered evasively.

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, gently reaching out to tilt the book so that he could see the cover, immediately groaning when he realized what it was.

“Seriously, Cas? Supernatural? You’re not honestly reading that bullshit, are you?”

The angel was looking a tad bashful, but that didn’t stop him from nonchalantly turning another page.

“It’s just… It’s nice to get a look inside your head, like this.” Cas explained quietly.

And okay, that made no sense to Dean.

“For real? Cas, we share a room, your tongue has been in my mouth! If there’s anything you want to know you can just ask me instead of turning to that garbage,” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes, half amused, half annoyed. “Hell, you could literally read my mind if you chose to.”

“But I promised not to,” Castiel reminded him, at last putting down the book and giving Dean his full attention. “And most of these were from before we met… I was simply curious what you were up to, how you were feeling back then. For one thing, I found out that you easily believed in the existence of every supernatural creature possible, every single one except angels.”

Cas looked mildly affronted by that, but Dean snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. Silly angel, to be bothered by this after all these years. He reached over the table to lace his fingers through Cas’.

“For what it’s worth, I believe now,” Dean muttered, smiling at Cas.

Ever so slowly, Cas’ smile started mirroring Dean’s, and he eventually nodded in agreement.

“So… Will you stop reading those now?” Dean checked after a short silence, squeezing Cas’ hand.

Picking up the book again with his free hand, Cas grinned almost mischievously.

“Not a chance.”

unconventional study tips

- buy yourself new stationery: i get so excited about using new pens that i don’t mind writing that essay i’ve been putting off for days

- use a playlist as a study timer: have a selection of instrumentals and songs with lyrics. take a break everytime a song with lyrics comes on and work during the instrumentals

- make your study space smell fresh: mint and lemon tend to be good options

- write down how much time you spend studying for a test and then the grade you got: then you can figure out how time you really need to spend to get a good grade. this will help you use your time more effectively

- spend your study breaks showering or exercising for about 30 mins: then come back fresh and quickly review what you have learned. this will help the information sink in

- don’t always study in comfy clothes or pyjamas: do your hair or makeup if you want too. this will put you in ‘get shit done’ mode

- record yourself explaining topics you’ve just studied: explaining/teaching topics helps you learn so much better, and you also have a little video to review before tests

#23- Gags (Destiel)

Requested by anon for my kink list (master list here).

Warnings: smut, use of gag

Word Count: 2100ish

A/N: I do love writing Destiel. Hope y’all enjoy! Feedback always appreciated!


Dean is noisy.

He can’t help it. He’s always enjoyed sex, always loved the feel of skin on skin, never wanted to hold back any of the groans and growls the sensations pull out of him.

And sex with Cas? Well, that’s a goddamn out-of-body experience, and he can’t possibly be expected to be quiet with his angel sucking his cock, lips wrapped around his erection and blue eyes staring up at him with no angel innocence at all.

Keep reading

What’s really amazing to me, is how absolutely real Skam feels.

Like, we know, it’s a tv show, with actors and a script, multiple takes and cuts and a director who tells people what to do and say.

But it never actually feels like a show, does it? 

Those kids look real. Act real. With their problems and fears, their friendships and rivalries, their ups and downs, their acne, bad make-up and sometimes greasy hair.

It feels like watching life happening in front of cameras. Like reality tv, but done right. Raw and un-scripted. Nothing fake about it. Nothing dramatised for shock value and ratings.

Skam is entertainment done right. Honest, thought-provoking, unpredictable. 

k but whatever you do don’t think about iwa just staring at oikawa and being like “i want to fuck up your hair” and oikawa’s like ??? is this a sex thing or??? 

but no, iwa just sits down with a bunch of bobby pins and rubber bands and makes oikawa’s hair look utterly ridiculous and he’s fucking giggling the whole time too and oikawa’s just sitting there like ???? what is going on ???? and at the end iwa just stops and stares at him with the goopiest smile

and he’s like, fake sighing and like “i was hoping if you didn’t have all that nice hair you’d finally look as dumb as your personality, but…” and he squishes oikawa’s face into the weirdest face while shaking his head very seriously “… you’re cute whatever i do”

and then he bursts out laughing and kisses oikawa’s nose gently

oikawa is still so bewildered but he’s like “this is the cutest thing that’s ever happened to me” and lets iwa take a picture of him looking like a dipshit with his hair in shambles

So let me see if I’ve got this right.  The 1950 Cinderella gown looked like this:

And the 2015 live action adaptation altered the style of the neckline, put butterflies all over it, removed the floofy things (I am not a design major, I have no idea what they’re called) from her skirt, changed the color from very pale whitish-blue to very deep blue with an iridescent purple/blue/silver skirt, and put her hair down, and that’s all fine.

But the dress Emma Watson designed for Beauty and the Beast took this:

And made it into this:

And this is beyond the pale because why exactly?

Last I checked, everyone was hating this movie for being “just the cartoon all over, but with live actors” and loving Emma Watson for speaking her mind about what she believes in.  But suddenly change is bad if it’s something you personally enjoyed and also Emma Watson’s an idiot who ought to shut up and stop stealing the job of costume designers.

Okay.

2

“What would I do without you?” I crouch down and squeeze her in a hug, as I do seeing our whole life together: her tiny infant toes and scalp that smelled like baby powder; the first time she tottered over to me; the first time she rode a bike and fell and scraped her knee, and when I saw all that blood on her, I almost died from fright, and I carried her all the way home. And I see beyond it, strangely, glimpses of her in the other direction: Izzy grown tall and gorgeous with one hand resting on a steering wheel, laughing; Izzy wearing a long green dress and picking her way in heels toward a waiting limousine on her way to prom; Izzy loaded down with books as the snow swirls around her, ducking into a dorm, her hair a golden flame against the white.