#dedicated to my 4 followers

[staytiny-dreams]

a pair of hearts (j.yh x reader)

pairing: jeong yunho x gn! reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to (implied) lovers, fluff fluff and more fluff

warnings: alcohol consumption? nobodys super drunk tho, no pronouns used, reader is mentioned to wear a dress once

wc: 3.9k

note: inspired by my friend who wanted to get drunk but didn't so that she could drive me home bc she could tell i wasn't vibing. i tried my best to edit/proofread if u find any mistakes lemme know ill fix it up.

you scrunch your face in distaste as the alcohol burns down your throat. a gag rises in your throat but you push it down, biting into the lime that brings welcome relief.

“that shit tastes like soap.” you whine, glaring at the bottle of tequila as if it had launched a personal attack on you.

the next person reaches for a card and you fold your arms in front of you where you lay, stomach down on the carpet. with a huff, your head drops down to your arms and your eyes flutter closed.

unknown to you a concerned pair of eyes follow your movements from their place on the couch across the room. yunho is nursing a glass of water, excluding himself from the game in favour of sobering up.

“can we move outside now?” wooyoung suggests for the fifth time. a groan leaves your lips as - for the first time tonight - everyone agrees with him.

as the group stands to go outside, you don't move from your place on the floor, lifting your head to see empty glasses kicked over and forgotten cards strewn across the yellowing carpet.

the music seems louder now that the room has emptied and it causes your head to pound. you curse silently at your own behaviour.

you really did want to have a good time tonight, but as the first drop of alcohol hit your tongue, any energy you might’ve had at the beginning of the night dissipated.

with a groan, you push yourself upwards with your arms, sitting up with your legs folded, looking around the room tiredly. the velvet of your dress rests softly over your knees, the skin of your legs glowing slightly blue beneath the lit christmas tree.

you take in the speaker; still blasting music despite the group's departure, the empty chairs strewn about the room; all of which are surrounded by empty cans and glasses, telling of how intoxicated the rest of your friends already are.

finally your eyes come to rest on the couch, mild surprise shoots through you, your heart jumping, as you finally notice yunho, still sitting on the couch.

having been keeping his eye on you, he immediately noticed your gaze on him, giving you a warm smile.

you briefly wonder why he didn't follow the rest of the group outside, your heart beating faster at the thought that he stayed for you.

dismissing the thought quickly, you push yourself up onto your knees, then onto your feet. smiling back up at yunho, you carefully navigate the carpet of cans, glasses, cards and food as you make your way to the couch.

with a sigh, you flop down onto the couch, close enough to yunho to rest your head on his shoulder, his knitted brown sweater soft on your cheek.

“yun-ah…” you whine and he chuckles quietly, reaching over you for the fluffy, grey blanket resting on the couch. leaning back, he pulls the blanket over the both of you causing you to press yourself into his side even more.

his breath hitches at your closeness, however the alcohol inhibiting your senses makes certain you don't notice this movement.

“yes (y/n)?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

“wanna get out of here…” you mumble into his shoulder, curling the blanket around your fingertips and pulling it closer to your chin. you keep your voice low, afraid to break the bubble you two have created, sinking into the couch cushions together.

“i know,” he admits, reaching an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm comfortingly.

you squint up at him in confusion, your eyebrows scrunching. it takes everything in yunho to keep himself from reaching out to smooth your furrowed brow.

“been watching you, pretty,” he confesses with a surge of confidence. after registering his own words, his face flushed, red creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears.

your heart sits in your throat at yunho's admission, alcohol still clouds your mind and you think you must've imagined his endearment.

“you want me to take you home?” he asks, wanting to move on from his previous comment as fast as possible, especially considering your lack of response.

“haven't you been drinking?” you remind him, shifting around to pull at your phone from where it sits, beneath your leg.

“not for a while, i stopped drinking at like eight. i can be okay to drive by eleven? eleven thirty?” he takes another sip of his water as if to prove his point to you, but you only pout.

“why'd you stop? are you not having a good time?” you poke his chest with both questions and your phone finally comes free.

yunho's chest warms at your concern, especially considering you yourself were not having a good time. in fact, yunho had noticed your energy levels were lower than usual upon your arrival. after your first shot of the night, your demeanour dropped once more.

“no, i'm having a good time, you're not though.” he points out and you whine into his shoulder.

“having a great time… now.” you unlock your phone and open tiktok, once again pushing yourself further into the warmth of yunho's body.

“now… that you're not drinking and you're left alone?” he teases and you snort a small laugh at the picture his words paint in your mind.

“not alone, with you.” your free hand, not scrolling through your phone, reaches around for yunho's hand where it still rests on your arm.

pulling his arm forward so his hand rests on your lap, you turn his hand over so his palm is open to you.

yunho's heart is beating in his throat, his face feels hot. you begin to play with his fingers and he holds back the whine that wants to leave his lips at your touch.

you tilt your screen towards yunho so he can watch over your shoulder, despite the music blasting and preventing either of you from being able to hear the phone properly.

your eyes flit to the time, showing nine fifty-seven. a groan leaves your throat before you can stop it.

yunho notices your impatience and smiles to himself.

“(y/n)-ah…” he calls and you hum in response, eyes still on your screen. with the knowledge that you're still fairly far under the influence, yunho finds his courage and rests his hand over yours around your phone.

you turn your neck to look up at him, raising a brow at his sudden move. his cheeks burn for the nth time tonight - as do yours - yet he continues.

squeezing your hand with his own, your phone screen goes dark.

“why'd you do that?” you mumble in protest and he shrugs.

“you weren't paying attention to me.” is his only explanation and you laugh in disbelief.

yunho's face lights up, an affectionate smile resting on his lips.

“did you watch that new special you were excited about?” he asks and a sullen pout takes over your face.

“no, i wanted to rewatch the original show first, but they took it off of my streaming service.” with your phone turned off, you drop it in your lap and turn your attention completely to yunho who was humming thoughtfully at your words.

“what streaming service is it on?” he probes and you bring your hand up to trace the knitted patterns on his sweater.

“amazon i think, but i had to cancel my subscription a few months ago.” you try not to sound too ungrateful or whiney, your hand movements continuing absent-mindedly.

yunho thinks he must look like a fool, a blushing mess as his face feels hotter as the seconds pass.

“i have- i have amazon.” he says with no further explanation.

“hm?” you prompt, still focusing your attention on playing with his shirt.

“i mean we could… you could… well, we could watch it together?” his statement is not a question, but his inflection suggests otherwise.

“really?” you finally bring your attention from his shirt, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes.

with your innocent eyes shining up at him, tired, but swelling with affection and fondness, yunho finds himself choking on his words. afraid that if he speaks, his voice will come out shaky, he gives a small nod in lieu of a verbal response and your smile widens.

“okay, but you know they only start at the new series, right?” you warn and he nods again, this time huffing out a laugh.

“yeah? why don't you tell me about the old seasons then?”

so you do. you rest your head back on yunho, cheek to his chest, faces warm and a pair of hearts beating faster than normal, and you explain the plot of each season that yunho won't get to see.

yunho practices active listening throughout your explanation, nodding and humming in response, gasping when it’s appropriate, even asking questions about the lore and history of the world.

with every gasp he lets out, every question he asks, you can feel your heart grow bigger and bigger. you would think that a big heart means you have room for everyone in your heart, but that's not true. at least not for you. because for you, yunho had rooted himself deep in your heart, and there was no room for anyone else.

your tangent was interrupted when a sharp ringing cut through the air. finding your forgotten phone hiding in the tangled blanket, you turn it over to see a reminder to take your tablets.

“did you bring them with you?” yunho's voice grabs your attention again, and you swipe the alarm away, turning back to him.

“i took them before i left.” you look back at your phone, checking the time again only to find that as you ranted about your show to yunho, over an hour had passed.

“eleven eleven, make a wish.” there was a teasing lilt to his voice as he too took note of the time.

but, looking up at yunho and his playful smile, his arm around you, your head on his chest and his hand in your lap you thought that if this was your life, you didn't need to make a wish.

the alcohol had started to wear off now, having been just over an hour since you'd had anything to drink.

yunho on the other hand, had been drinking water and snacking on spring rolls for the past three hours.

“shall we get you home now?” if yunho noticed your all but lovesick expression, he didn't say anything.

yunho simply writes off your affection as a result of the alcohol running through you which gives him the courage to tap your cheek affectionately in a gesture for you to sit up.

your cheeks went up in flames as you separated from yunho's side for the first time in about an hour. you hold back your whine at the loss of his warmth and instead stand from the couch.

you turn and hold out your hands for yunho and he raises a brow. despite his scepticism, he grips your hands and lets you try to lift him.

yunho moves easily from the couch at your first pull and you frown up at him.

“okay well you could've resisted a little. you didn't even try to make it seem realistic.”

“what do you mean? i didn't do anything, you're just that strong, really!” his tone is incredulous and you roll your eyes even as a smile spreads across your face.

“you couldn't just humour me? i could pick you up, im strong enough.” you state firmly and he shrugs.

“i’ve been taught it's bad to lie. now go get your stuff.” he places his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around and nudging you in the direction of your bag.

you reach through your bag checking you've got everything, phone, wallet, headphones, charger. deciding if anything else had been left, you could pick it up another day, you sling your bag over your shoulder.

turning back around, you find yourself alone in the room. you consider heading outside to say goodnight to everyone, but a wave of exhaustion washes over you again at the thought of rejoining the group, and you opt instead to message your close friends goodnight.

you pull out your phone and open messages, searching for the groupchat with your closest friends as you walk over to the front door. it had been propped open to allow for easy access to party goers and a cool, midnight breeze was sweeping through the entrance.

you lean against the wall next to the doorway, just out of the way of the entrance, avoiding any goosebumps that could be caused by the wind.

as you type out your message, yunho comes back into the house from the back door, tossing his keys into the air and catching them again.

“ready to go?”

“are you sure you wanna leave early with me?” you wonder, once again. you feel bad he hadn't been drinking with the others, instead staying inside and coddling you just because you weren't feeling it.

“(y/n) i just spent the last hour and a half sitting on a couch with you while everyone parties outside, i don't know what else i can do to show you that you are who i want to spend my time with.” he affirms, but you say nothing.

conveniently, the hem of your clothing becomes very interesting. you look down, picking at the seam as if you can't feel him approach you.

“besides, i didn't spend the last three hours not drinking just so i could end up not driving you home.” you huff out a laugh, still playing with the velvet that hangs around your legs.

yunho reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, however you are still unable to meet his eyes with your heart swelling, cheeks hot, blood pumping loudly in your ears.

suddenly you wish you'd waited in the doorway maybe the breeze rushing through the door frame would've aided in cooling your body down.

“i told them all you said goodbye and that i was taking you home. didn't think you'd feel up to braving the masses again.” he places his large hand on the small of your back and leads you out the front door.

“you make me sound like a loser.” you complain, letting him shuffle you to his car that sits at the end of the driveway.

“not a loser. just sleepy. hm?” he reaches past you to open the car door for you. you throw your bag to the floor first, then, finding yourself still a little off balance, you grip the centre console with one hand to aid your entrance into the car.

the warmth of his hand doesn't leave your back until you settle into your seat when he finally pulls away he closes your door and disappears from your side.

you watch him through the windscreen as he rounds the car. his dark hair rests on his forehead just above his eyes, shining in the moonlight, looking softer than the blanket you'd been wrapped in half of the night.

his cheeks were flushed and while it was probably from the cold, you could only hope that maybe, the red in his face and neck was an indicator of an effect that you might have on him.

he closes his own car door behind him and smiles at you from his place in front of the wheel. you give a weak smile in return, your head lolling to the side, unable to keep holding your neck up as it nears midnight.

the drive seemed fast as you dozed in the passenger seat, the late night talk shows on the radio droning on and on putting you in a tired trance.

yunho had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road, knowing that if he glanced over at your sleeping frame, he wouldn't be able to pull his gaze away.

all too soon, he was pulling into the carpark underneath your apartment building, parking in the visitor section.

“is your roommate home?” he asks and you mumble an incoherent response, eyes still closed.

“jagi… are you awake?” he reaches a hand over, resting it on your shoulder, his warmth spreading over your body once more.

“no.” you say, leaning into his touch.

“no?”

“mm mm.” you hum with a minuscule shake of your head.

“ah okay.” is all he says before exiting the car and closing his door.

in a split second, yunho is at your door, the night breeze sweeping over you and his body leaning over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. you can't tell if the goosebumps prickling at your skin are from the wind, or from the proximity of the man above you.

“come on, time to get inside.” his hand rests on your cheek and jaw and you peek an eye open.

“will you stay? don't want you driving home so late alone.” yunho's smile makes your chest hurt, his eyes scrunching and smile lines creasing on his cheeks.

“okay sweetheart, i'll stay.” a smile of your own makes its way to your face and you lean forward into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you out of the car and to your feet.

leaning into his side, he places one arm around your shoulders and grabs your bag using his free arm. he throws your bag over his shoulder and closes the car door, locking it and shoving his keys in his back pocket.

“keys in my bag yun,” you mention. exhaustion seeps from your pores and you let yunho support your weight almost completely, simply focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

despite your whole body weight being placed upon yunho along with your bag, yunho walks you both into the building, up the elevator and to your apartment door with no complaints.

as you reach your own door, a relieved sigh falls from you and you leave yunho's side to lean against the wall while he rummages through your bag for the keys.

when his fingers brush against the telling seahorse keychain, he hooks the keyring on his index finger and pulls them out. with ease and familiarity he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

you duck under his arm to enter the apartment before he's even fully opened the door and he chuckles at your eagerness.

locking the door behind him, he leaves the keys in the deadlock and puts the chain across.

while his back is turned you make your way through your apartment, heading straight for your bedroom.

“(y/n)?” he calls out for you when he turns back to the empty living area. you call out to him from your bedroom and when he enters behind you he can see you at your linen closet, pulling out spare pillows and blankets.

your own bed looks hurriedly made, the top blankets pulled over, however the lumps underneath suggest that the sheets below the top layer have not been as carefully fixed.

“don't look at that.” you mutter, pushing a pillow into his chest as you pass him on your way out of the room.

he grabs the pillow, hugging it to his middle, turning on his heel and following you back out into your living area, feeling a bit like an overgrown puppy as he trails you through your house again.

in the living room, you finish setting up the couch with the spare blankets before turning back to him.

“will this be okay? or you can take the bed and i can take the couch” immediately he's shaking his head at you, with two large strides he's at your side, placing his pillow on the couch conclusively.

“if the other option was a couch made of rocks i still wouldn't take your bed from you.” he ushers you back towards your bedroom.

“you're so dramatic, the couch is comfy enough.” you whine and he laughs, pushing past you into your bedroom and pulling the covers on your bed back. his earlier suspicions are confirmed when he finds your second sheet scrunched up in the middle of your bed.

choosing not to comment on the mess of a bedspread, yunho turns to you, gripping your shoulders gently and spinning the both of you around so the back of your knees hit your bed. you huff playfully at his actions, which he also ignores in favour of pushing down on your shoulders, prompting you to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“if that’s true, i'll be fine to sleep on it then hm?” you don't respond to him, a pout resting on your lips as he crouches in front of you.

“what are you doing yun?” you swing your legs forward and back slightly before he stops your movements with a gentle yet firm grip.

yunho doesn’t answer, instead he smooths his hands down your calf and unties the laces on your left shoe, ignoring the pitchy sound you release in surprise, yunho slips the shoe off with minimal effort.

focusing his attention on your right shoe next, yunho misses the look in your eyes as you gaze down at the man undoing your laces for you. you think you could cry at the sight, unable to make sense of his behaviour tonight, but your heart feels full.

finally standing, yunho pushes on your shoulders and you follow his lead as he lays you down, petulant frown morphing into a sleepy smile at the teddy bear of a man above you.

he pulls your blanket up around your shoulders and tucks it in tightly beneath your neck and around your shoulders. another cute smile spreads across his face as he takes in your frame, wrapped up in the ocean blue of your blanket, blinking sleepily up at him.

“yunnie?” he crouches down once more to be face to face with you and his hand comes to rest on your cheek.

“hm?”

“jagi?” you ask, finally finding the courage to clarify whether or not you had imagined the term of endearment in your sleepy state.

yunho swallows, face hot as it always seems to be around you.

“yeah. yunnie?” he fires back and you let out a weak, tired laugh.

“touche.” yunho smiles warmly and your eyes close.

he takes a deep breath, pulling all the courage from every crevice of his body, leans over, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

assuming you're too far into your sleepy state to respond, he lets out a sigh and begins to stand, only to be stopped by your hand shooting out and gripping his neck.

he lets out a small yelp of surprise as you pull him back down and press a hard kiss to his cheek.

his knees go weak, legs wobbling slightly and his heart leaps into his throat at your affection. recovering from the surprise, he opens his eyes to see yours open again and searching his face as if trying to see inside and find out what he’s thinking.

“we'll talk about this tomorrow, hm? get some sleep.” he leaves his own, softer kiss on your cheek, before disappearing from your line of sight. shortly after he’s left your field of vision, you can hear your bedroom door click softly closed.

despite your racing heart, and your bubbling excitement for the following morning, your eyes flutter closed and you finally let sleep overtake you.

[dykedvonte]

Danse sounds so sultry when he gives you Righteous Authority, “This gun has my…special… modifications” Like Paladin… what did you do to this weapon?

[satoruxx]

“if you wanna return to the past we’ll rebuild our old house and move in together. and if one house isn’t enough, i’ll build you a whole maze. i’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want. it will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you’ve ever seen.”

caleb i love you so bad....

[shalom-iamcominghome]

For every person I unfollow with weird opinions on jews, I follow a few other jews instead. This has been for the better, even if I was bitter about hitting the "unfollow" button at first (sound off if you want to use this post to self-promo)

[tophabe-nation]

its an important part of the process abe, c'mon !!!

[turtle-ly]

So i think now is a good time for y'all to once again look at my bio and my pinned post on account of the tags i use for sexual content reblogged here! bc like. i dont wanna surprise my followers with sudden monke dick and balls on your dash or sth in the (very near) future. have fun blogging 👍

[bloomingkyras]

Transcript under the cut:

Ezra came to Camilia's Bakery to see her but the staff told him that she has left the bakery 30 minutes ago and he end up meet her at the restaurant when she was delivery her goods there.

{music}

🎵I would never fall in love again until I found her🎵

Waiter:  May I take the order, Sir?

Ezra: Camilia, what did u want to have? Let me order it for u.

Camilia: Sure..Thanks.

While waiting for their food to come. Ezra suddenly ask Camilia about her love life and how she end up became a single mother.

{Music}

🎵I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"🎵

Ezra: May I asked? How did u end up became a single mother? I’m sorry if this question bothers u. If u uncomfortable ,just don’t answer it.

Camilia: Oh, Its ok. Its quite a long story..and for me what ever happen last time maybe its a faith for me.

Ezra: I’m happy for u and Jar’deen. I wonder if someday,… oh never mind..

{Music}

Ezra suddenly ask for Camilia's hand and he start to make it official since they had being friend quite a long time.

🎵I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her I found you🎵

Ezra: Camilia, can we make it official? I have being eyeing on u for the 1st time we meet at my uncle house. I know its too sudden for u.

{music}

🎵Heaven when I held you again How could we ever just befriends?I would rather die than let you go🎵

Camilia: No..Its already 4 years for me..sure..Yes,I want to make it official.

🎵I want ya in my arms. Oh, let me hold ya,I'll never let you go again, like I did,Oh I used to say🎵

│Song- Until I Found You (Em Beihold Version)

[coneheadseekers]

omg a conehead-focused account, am I dreaming??

I was STARVING through Tumblr searching for content of my fav little conical blue guy who can't catch a break and then, out of nowhere, I see this account, and I'm dazzled- Are you even real? Please tell me you are and confirm the existence of conehead enjoyers.

Believe it or not, fellow conefan, you're not dreaming. You've simply left behind the unconely transformer rabble and entered into...

✈🍧The Cone Zone 🍧✈

Please enjoy your stay.

[enterstellars]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.

[fandom-blahs]

One thing that kind of annoys me in online media discourse is how we all just pretend like the only form of media and entertainment is the US (West).

Controversial opinion but "I want to see x representation", with all due respect just go watch that country's media. It's even more annoying coming from diaspora.

I'm still not over how Egyptian-Americans hyped up that Ramy show to the heavens because it showed...Egyptian-Americans.

As if we don't have 3asal 2eswed that I know for a fact shows the struggles of diaspora better than Ramy could.

Ramy is such a mediocre show fueled by "omg SENPAI (America) ACKNOWLEDGED ME!"

[twitch-upon-the-thread]

.

[mydearzero]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[copperbadge]

I'm getting depressingly good at identifying the formula for Pop Academic Books About ADHD.

Regardless of their philosophy it pretty much goes like this:

1. Emotionally sensitive essay about the struggle of ADHD and the author's personal experience with it as both a person with ADHD and a healthcare professional.

2. Either during or directly following this, a lightly explicated catalogue of symptoms, illustrated by anecdotes from patient case studies. Optional: frequent, heavy use of metaphor to explain ADHD-driven behavior.

3. Several chapters follow, each dedicated to a symptom; these have a mini-formula of their own. They open with a patient case study, discuss the highly relatable aspects of the specific symptom or behavior, then offer some lightweight examples of a treatment for the symptom, usually accompanied by follow up results from the earlier case studies.

4. Somewhere around halfway-to-two-thirds through the book, the author introduces the more in-depth explication of the treatment system (often their own homebrew) they are advocating. These are generally both personally-driven (as opposed to suggested cultural changes, which makes sense given these books' target audience, more on this later) and composed of an elaborate system of either behavior alteration or mental reframing. Whether this system is actually implementable by the average reader varies wildly.

5. A brief optional section on how to make use of ADHD as a tool (usually referring to ADHD or some of its symptoms as a superpower at least once). Sometimes this section restates the importance of using the systems from part 4 to harness that superpower. Frequently, if present, it feels like an afterthought.

6. Summation and list of further resources, often including other books which follow this formula.

I know I'm being a little sarcastic, but realistically there's nothing inherently wrong about the formula, like in itself it's not a red flag. It's just hilariously recognizable once you've noticed it.

It makes sense that these books advocate for the Reader With ADHD undertaking personal responsibility for their treatment, since these are in the tradition of self-help publishing. They're aimed at people who are already interested in doing their own research on their disability and possible ways to handle it. It's not really fair to ask them to be policy manuals, but I do find it interesting that even books which advocate stuff like volunteering (for whatever reason, usually to do with socialization issues and isolation, often DBT-adjacent) never suggest disability activism either generally or with an ADHD-specific bent.

None of these books suggest that perhaps life with ADHD could be made easier with increased accommodations or ease of medication access, and that it might be in a person's best interest to engage in political advocacy surrounding these and other disability-related issues. Or that activism related to ADHD might help to give someone with ADHD a stronger sense of ownership of their unique neurology. Or that if you have ADHD the idea of activism or even medical self-advocacy is crushingly stressful, and ways that stress might be dealt with.

It does make me want to write one of my own. "The Deviant Chaos Guide To Being A Miscreant With ADHD". Includes chapters on how to get an actual accurate assessment, tips for managing a prescription for a controlled substance, medical and psychiatric self-advocacy for people who are conditioned against confrontation, When To Lie About Being Neurodivergent, policy suggestions for ADHD-related legislation, tips for activism while executively dysfunked, and to close the book a biting satire of the pop media idea of self-care. ("Feeling sad? Make yourself a nice pot of chicken soup from scratch and you'll feel better in no time. Stay tuned after this rambling personal essay for the most mediocre chicken soup recipe you've ever seen!" "Have you considered planning and executing an overly elaborate criminal heist as a way to meet people and stay busy?")

Every case study or personal anecdote in the book will have a different name and demographics attached but will also make it obvious that they are all really just me, in the prose equivalent of a cheap wig, writing about my life. "Kelly, age seven, says she struggles to stay organized using the systems neurotypical children might find easy. I had to design my own accounting spreadsheet in order to make sure I always have enough in checking to cover the mortgage, she told me, fidgeting with the pop socket on her smartphone."

I feel a little bad making fun, because these books are often the best resource people can get (in itself concerning). It's like how despite my dislike of AA, I don't dunk on it in public because I don't want to offer people an excuse not to seek help. It feels like punching down to criticize these books, even though it's a swing at an industry that is mainly, it seems, here to profit from me. But one does get tired of skimming the hype for the real content only to find the real content isn't that useful either.

Les (not his real name) was diagnosed at the age of 236. Charming, well-read, and wealthy, he still spent much of his afterlife feeling deeply inadequate about his perceived shortcomings. "Vampire culture doesn't really acknowledge ADHD as a condition," he says. "My sire wouldn't understand, even though he probably has it as well. You should see the number of coffins containing the soil of his homeland that he's left lying forgotten all over Europe." A late diagnosis validated his feelings of difference, but on its own can't help when he hyperfocuses on seducing mortals who cross his path and forgets to get home before sunrise. "I have stock in sunburn gel companies," he jokes.

[fairuzfan]

NEW UPDATE: TWO NEW CAMPS!

There are two new camps, made of about 240 families, built up around the one on Hussam's land due to the numerous refugees coming to Rafah. Hussam said that the nights are so cold and windy, the kids get frightened at night from the way the sand blows and scratches against the tents. So, he decided to buy 500 blankets for the surrounding camp residents!

Also, he plans on focusing on food next, with the next few days dedicated to spending on a variety of food items. The prices and supply for these are continuously changing but as of February 16th, one package of food costs about $33. Here is a breakdown of what they contain:

Lentils- 2 kilo

Rice- 2 kilo

Pasta- 1 kilo

Oil- 1 liter

Cheese- 4 cans

Tomato Sauce- 360 gram

Ful (Beans)- 4 cans

Let's help him out as much as possible! Thank you for everything so far!

For those of you who have been following this, my tumblr 'helpgazachildren' was deleted for unknown reasons. In the meantime, I put together this notion site to help document all the receipts and videos of updates for people who want a backlog of information. I will be continuously updating this site. Here is the archived version.

Please consider donating today. Your donations go directly to people in need with NO middle man in between. No donation amount is too little, or if you're unable to donate please spread the link today!!!

For those who cannot donate through paypal, here is Hussam's gofundme!

[kalashtars]

having access to money & having a brain that likes to hyperfixate are two things that should not exist within the same person

[wheelscomedyandmore]

You Might Not Ever Guess

Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 as age 76 , which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27 ) His death reminded me of the following story.

Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery . His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:

I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.

In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces often in rear echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions.

Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award... the Medal Of Honor

If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.

Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ..and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."

"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys getting' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life.

That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, lying on my belly on the litter and said, where'd they get you Lee?' Well Bob.. if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse!"

Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew.

The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."

On another note, there was this wimpy little man (who just passed away) on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth.

But Mr. Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.

After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.

America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy.

Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.

Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened.

Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.

Send this on will you please? Nothing will happen to you if you don't, but it will tell what a "real" HERO is made of.