jstorgirrl

[jstorgirrl]

jokes to make after failure that aren’t self-deprecating:

I’m the best to ever do it

Nobody saw that (best if said loudly)

No one’s ever done it like me

I could be President/they should make me President

Behold, a mere fraction of my power!

The public wants to be me soooooo bad

I’m an expert in (thing you just failed at)

How could this have happened to god’s favorite princess?

Nothing ibuprofen and a glass of water cant fix

I’m being sabotaged

[jstorgirrl]

"are you alive" no. leave me alone. #mygrave

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wtf yall know about a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs

[jstorgirrl]

was upset the other week so i drew henry winter hitting a bong

[jstorgirrl]

[jstorgirrl]

if i was on love island and i lost a ring or earring i would be done like i wouldnt be able to think about anything else let alone get on with someone and then when they try to kick me off the island id literally refuse to leave until i found my object and youd see me in the back of shots just digging thru sand and upending sofa pillows

[jstorgirrl]

[jstorgirrl]

Omgggg can I request a chubby FemReader x Henry (who is talking endlessly about how she looks like ancient art?) as in, he's trying to flirt with her but since she's all inexperienced and hasnt flirt like ever or even had a boyfriend, she doesn't understand until he's being very very explicit about what he wants to do with her? 👀✨

omg anon thank you so much i love this prompt!! ended up being longer than i expected. also i'm still working on how i write henry so i apologize if this is a little OOC. i hope you enjoy :)

there's some dirty stuff in here so 18+ only!!

a renaissance painting

"Like Aphrodite," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" you said, looking up from the flower you were about to pick. You were crouched over, your button up blouse lifting up to show your soft stomach rolls like that of a Greek statue.

"You look like Aphrodite," Henry said, smiling ever-so-slightly.

"Oh," you replied. You weren't a Greek student; you studied English, having loved reading since the first time you picked up a book. You had yet to read Homer, so Greek mythology references went right over your head. "Is that a good thing?"

"Yes."

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You had met Henry in the library. He was hunched over his Greek homework, his large frame intimidating you. You tried to stay away from him and his strange friends. They were always speaking in hushed tones, giving odd looks to anyone who dared looking their way.

You were reaching for a copy of Wuthering Heights on a high shelf when Henry saw you struggling. It was like a scene from a movie; he swooped in, grabbing the book for you silently and immediately leaving.

"Thank you," you shouted after him. He turned around.

"You're welcome," he said stoically.

"What's your name?" you said, wanting to thank your benefactor properly.

"Henry," he answered. "Henry Winter."

"Thank you, Henry Winter," you giggled. You looked at him; he was tall, broad, and quite handsome. You imagined what it would be like to be held by him, just for a moment, before you set the thought out of your mind. No point in getting your hopes up.

"Do you want to come sit with me while I study?"

You were unsure of why he asked. He didn't seem very welcoming. But you remembered something your therapist said: to say yes more often.

"Sure," you replied, mustering up a smile.

"Follow me," he said, weaving through the shelves and shelves of books. The two of you made your way to a small table next to a large window overlooking an idyllic courtyard.

As you were sitting down, Henry said, "Are you familiar with the painter Titian? He worked during the Renaissance."

"No, I don't know him."

"You look like a girl from one of his paintings," he said.

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's a great thing."

Henry was smirking to himself, and you couldn't really gauge what he was thinking. He seemed to like you, even though he looked like someone who didn't like anybody.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Ever since that day, you and Henry have been meeting up to explore the Hampden campus. You enjoyed plants and wildlife, and Henry enjoyed watching you.

It was a crisp October day, and you and Henry were walking along a nature trail on the edge of campus. Henry brushed a leaf off of your shoulder.

"Have you ever posed for a photo?"

"No," you laughed. "I don't really like photos being taken of me." This was the truth; you tended to get insecure about the way you looked in a photo.

"You should get photos taken of you. You would look like a Rubens portrait." He brushed a lock of hair out of your face.

"You always tell me I look like a painting. I don't know why," you confessed. Henry's compliments were sweet, but overwhelming.

Henry stopped walking and looked at you. "It's because you're beautiful."

You stopped walking as well. You felt your stomach get hot. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so? Why not?"

You looked at the ground, embarrassed. "No boys ever pay attention to me."

Henry laughed. "Don't I pay attention to you?"

"You're my friend," you insisted. "It's not like that."

"Not like what?"

"Like, romance."

Henry stared at you. His stare through his glasses was piercing. You felt a little dizzy.

"Listen to me," he whispered. "You have no idea what I would do to be able to kiss you."

You froze. Henry? Kiss you? You had always had a crush on Henry; who wouldn't? He's gorgeous. You've been attracted to Henry since you first met him, but your insecurities got in the way of you ever making a move.

He touched your cheek. "You're beautiful, you know that? You're like a Greek statue. You're like a Renaissance painting. There are so many things I want to do to you."

You look away and laugh, awkwardly. "Do to me?"

Henry looked at you softly. "You know..."

Your face was blank. You truly had no idea what he was talking about.

"Listen to me," he said. He held your shoulders and stared into your eyes deeply. "You have no idea what I would give to have one night with you. One night where I could lay you down on a nice bed and fuck you until you come all over my cock."

Oh. That's what he was talking about.

This is not what you were used to. You were not used to boys wanting to fuck you. In fact, you were barely used to thinking about fucking. Sure, you got hot-blooded sometimes, but you just pushed the feeling down. But here Henry was, laying his carnal desires at your feet.

And then, something weird happened. You noticed Henry get nervous. He wasn't used to being vulnerable.

"Henry..."

"Please tell me I'm not embarrassing myself," he whispered.

"You're not, Henry," you said, and then something came over you, and you kissed him.

The kiss was deep and searing and the hotness in your stomach grew. Henry grabbed your hair and pulled ever-so-slightly. You moaned into his mouth and he held you closer.

He pulled back from the kiss. He whispered your name. "Let's go to my apartment."

[jstorgirrl]

would anyone be interested in a fic where you're dating henry but he goes away to italy with bunny and he "assigns" richard to fuck you and take care of you while he's gone?

[jstorgirrl]

Frederic Leighton - "Sea echoes"

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sick to death of everyone being rail thin and wearing their hair in a slicked back bun. this summer and forever i'm all about big thighs big boobs big butts and perhaps most importantly big hair

[jstorgirrl]

i loveeeee time theft i love reading fanfiction and scrolling tumblr dot com on company time. everyone should do this btw

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salvage by Hedgie Choi

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Joining the war on queerbait on the side of queerbait bc after a time you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting. It is not logical but is often true

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donna tartt calling the secret history a novel about “repressed sexuality” omg donna my goat