#sorry for making rand fat

[leafatlaw]

Transgenders your bayou

[markantonys]

So i once send you an ask about Mat joining the polycule and only now checked if you answered...

Just wanted to say, that after this episode I SO want to believe..... Villain/Hero pairings are delicious and delightful, but not for show Mat, who is a wet cat and I want him to become happy fat dry kitten (sorry for the weird metaphor, but my brain farted it out so here it is).

Someone like Perrin would be brilliant in a hero/villain pairing. But Mat (at least now) is just idk

But yeah... Mat has the vibes of a person who is very in love with someone. Like Donal is giving me this vibe of just... Want TM

i want to start off by saying, don't you dare apologize for the phrase "I want him to become happy fat dry kitten" because it's the best thing i've read all week djfkgh it's conjuring mental images of mat sprawled on some silk pillows being petted and fed treats by rand and elayne, and that is Exactly the future i want for him! i want him to become a happy fat dry kitten, indeed!!!

and you make a great point about the differences with show!mat and book!mat. book!mat is a little shit (affectionate) who could benefit from being pushed and challenged by a villain love interest and from sparking off them (if it were done well, which it was not in the books), but show!mat? he is a wet cat! he just needs to be cuddled and cherished and treated with utmost tenderness! he needs to be wrapped in blankets and baked homemade cookies! he needs to join the polycule!!

"Like Donal is giving me this vibe of just... Want TM" honestly you're RIGHT!! he's just got big yearning eyes haha i can't wait to see him have a chance to interact with more people next season, to get even more of the yearning vibes!

(also, perrin being in a hero/villain ship is a veeeery interesting concept!)

[alicedopey]

Dreams, Dreams, Dreams

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Ivar x plus-size reader

Genre: Modern AU, Smut, Romance

Words: 3034

Warnings: Smut, oral (giving and receiving), self-depreciation

Summary: Working with Ivar has triggered something in your mind, especially at night.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted for @flowers-in-your-hayr​ ‘s birthday but is now my contribution to her 650 followers celebration. (Moodboard is her own creation) Enjoy !

“Mr Ragnarsson, I…”

“Ivar, call me Ivar.”

It seemed accurate, since he was balls deep inside you.

“Ivar”. You were painting. “I’m going to come.”

Your words made him thrust deeper into you. “Then come, Y/N. Come on my cock.”

His hips were snapping madly. He was close to his release as well. You could tell by the way his brows were tightly knit or his mouth was making this sexy pout you liked so much.

You raised your hips to meet his, he viciously grabbed your thigh and dived even deeper into you, touching your cervix in the most delicious way. A scream fell from your lips.

Eyes wide opened, you woke up in your bed.  Sweat was dripping down your bed. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you rolled on the side to check your alarm and your eyes widened even more when you realized you had overslept again. Fifteen minutes was not much but it was still a lack of fifteen minutes in your morning routine before going to work.

You jumped out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helped your muscles relax. Those dreams were driving you crazy.

They had begun a few weeks ago when you were assigned to work with Ivar Ragnarsson on a very important contract. Since you spoke many languages fluently, the Ragnarssons considered you as one of the most valuable employees in their firm. When Bjorn had offered you to work alongside his little brother, you were flattered. Scared, but flattered. After all, Ivar had grown quite a reputation and the last thing you wanted was to end up like his personal punching ball.

Yet, working with him had revealed itself to be quite an adventure – and not in a bad way. Ivar was witty and passionate. He was sometimes treating you like an assistant, especially in front of his brothers but he was bearable most of the time.

The real problem were those dreams that had been haunting you during your sleep for a while now. Of course, they were mostly about sex: him taking you on your bed, in his office, against the wall, in his car…

The first time it happened you had laughed, figuring it was just a fantasy. He was quite a sight, after all. Second and third times were annoying. Then, it took place once or twice a week…and it started affecting the way you were behaving at work. A mere glance his way and you instantly became an awkward mess. Ivar would mostly get irritated, which made the situation worse and he ended up looking at you as if you had grown two heads.

If only you could make them stop but the more you wished for your crazy mind to leave you alone at night, the more you dreamt about him. So much that you had to admit to yourself you were falling for your boss. A boss who, according to flawless creatures he took to his bed, would certainly not glance at you for one second. You and your curves, you and your fat….no, definitely not his type you thought as you straightened your blouse over your wide hips a few minutes later before leaving for work.

Ivar was not there yet when you arrived at the office. You almost ran to the conference room in order to get everything ready for the presentation. It had to be perfect or he would throw a fit. Every brother would start yelling at the others and you would be blamed by Ivar in the end.

“Everything ready?”

You jumped, hearing Ivar’s voice and turned your eyes towards him. He was nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe.

“Yes”, you let out in a whisper.

His eyes scanned the room to check how you had everything settled. “You did well.”

“Thanks.” You squeaked nervously.

Ivar chuckled at your reaction. A shiver rand down your spine. “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine. We worked hard on this.”

If only he knew what you were really nervous about…

His brothers arrived shortly afterwards. Thankfully, Bjorn didn’t have the glorious idea to invite his mother to join the meeting or Ivar would have already been in a very bad mood.

They all took place around the table. You started the presentation to explain your line of work. Then, Ivar introduced the society you wanted to merge with and what the Ragnarssons’ firm could benefit from it.

As you listened to Ivar’s voice, you couldn’t help looking at his hand moving on the board. His strong firm hand…

“Sill here?”

You looked up, Ivar was eying you up and down, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you crossed your arms in front of you so that Ivar would not see too much of your curves.

“Yes. Your brother asked me to get some things ready for the big meeting with your uncle tomorrow. “

You thought he would leave after that but he kept staring at you while you stood there awkwardly.

“Need some help?”

“No, no…I’m almost done, thanks.” You stammered. Ivar never offered help to anyone.

He took a few steps towards you and took one of the files you had put on the meeting table to read it. “Looks like you worked hard. Bjorn will be glad.”

He smiled. A real smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.

He let go of the file which landed back on the table and set his eyes on you. The look he gave you made your heart flutter in your chest again. Lost in his mesmerizing eyes, you noticed he was closer when he put his hand on your hip. Your breath quickened. The heat radiating from his simple touch set your body on fire.

“I’m glad as well. Good job, Y/N.”

You did not hear the words, just watched his lips moving. Those plump tempting lips. Unable to resist the temptation to taste them, you kissed him. Ivar was not surprised. He kissed your back fiercely, his hand tightening its grip on your hip. He made you walk backwards until your thighs touched the table so you could lean on it.

You hiked up your skirt and spread your legs without even realizing it. Your body was acting on its own, all too eager to succumb to desire.

Nonetheless, Ivar did not move an inch and remained still as a statue. He was watching your body like a hawk as if he trying to remember every part of it. If only he could touch you the same way he was looking at you.

“Mr Ragnarsson, please.” You whimpered helplessly.

Ivar just smirked at you and played with the hem of your skirt. Your heart was beating so fast you had the feeling it would get out of your chest any minute now. You wanted him to put an end to your misery so desperately. He knew it and apparently loved watching you squirm, all needy and turned on.

When he finally sneaked his hand under your skirt, you bit your lip to prevent yourself from eliciting a sigh of relief.

His rough fat fingers stroked your skin until they finally reached your panties. His thumb touched your clit through the soft and soaked material. Your lower body lunched forwards, your teeth dug a little deeper in your lip.

“Oh, sweet Y/N…” Ivar whispered in a mocking tone. “Don’t damage those perfect luscious lips. That would be a shame.” He let go of his crutch, his body leaning a bit more on yours. Then, he inserted his thumb between your lips before saying. “Suck this. Pretend it’s my cock. Show me what you can do.”

Your lower lips clenched around nothing at his words. His other thumb pushed against your clit once more, eliciting a whimper to fall from your lips. You started sucking his finger greedily, pretending his cock instead as he had suggested.

“Good girl.” He praised lustfully. “I knew you could do it. Show me how well you can suck my cock.”

His motions on your sensitive nub accentuated and you took his thumb deeper in your mouth. Ivar groaned but ended up retrieving his fingers from your mouth. The two of you exchanged a lustful gaze before he attacked your lips with his mouth. His pace on your clit had become more urgent now. You pulled him against you and embraced him feverishly. Ivar kept kissing and pleasing you. Your body was completely on fire and yet, you were craving for more. So, you embraced him stronger, trying to get as much contact as possible between your two bodies.

Your lower body clenched, your breath quickened and you convulsed against him as you came. Ivar did not let go and made you ride your orgasm until you went limp in his arms. He chuckled, a deep chuckle that sent shivers running down your spine. “Ready for more?”

“If you are…” You whispered against his lips, congratulating yourself at the fact that he shivered because of it.

Emboldened, your palmed him through his trousers. Ivar groaned, pushing his cloth-covered dick into your hand. You rubbed him a few times before undoing his zipper and freeing his erected shaft. It was inviting to the touch, already glistening with pre-cum. But you did not touch him this time. Instead, you hiked up your skirt even higher to reveal your already damp panties that you led slid down your legs.

Ivar licked his lips. He was looking at your body as if he wanted to devour your body in one bite. A whimper left your lips. “Ivar, please…”

“Hmm?” He took his shaft in his hands and started pleasuring himself. “Did you want something?”

“You know what I want.”

“I want you to say it.” He rasped, still playing with himself. “Come on, Y/N. You can do it.”

You tried but no sound came out of your mouth. It was as if your brain did not want to give your body what it was craving.

“Y/N, I’m waiting.”

Once again, you opened your mouth to talk but did not produce any sound.

“Y/N, talk. Y/N ! Mrs Y/L/N !”

Ivar’s snapping voice made you startle. Several pairs of eyes were watching you; some expectant, some irritated. Well, Ivar was irritated.

You felt your cheeks heating under their stares, realizing you had been sex dreaming during a professional meeting.

“I’m sorry. I was…distracted.” Ivar’s glare intensified. He was probably going to strangle you. “You were saying?”

Bjorn explained patiently which points Ivar and you would have to work on. The meeting was adjourned after that. Ivar signaled for you to wait until everyone had left. Once they had, he closed the door and advanced towards you, each step making him grunt.

“We have some changes to do and we have to do them as fast as possible.”

He explained sharply. “Tonight. 7PM sharp. Your place. I’ll bring the wine.”

Then, he got out without waiting for an answer. You stared at his head until he had disappeared, realizing after a few minutes that your boss – who you too often dream about – was going to come to your place.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. You left as soon as you could, went to the grocery store and started cooking dinner the moment you got back home. Once you were finished, you took a shower. Your door bell rang as you were just finishing getting dressed. You threw a last glance in the mirror to check your appearance: leggings and a flowery blouse, casual but not too much. You ran to the door and took a deep breath before opening it.

Ivar had played the casual card as well, wearing dark jeans, a white shirt and a dark jacket under his usual coat.

“Please come in, Mr. Ragnarsson.” You invited him to take off his coat. “I’m going to put this in my bedroom. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

On your way back to the living room, you took some glasses in the kitchen. Ivar was on the couch, the bottle of wine was already cracked open, the files were out. As usual, Ivar did not lose any time so you started working right away, only taking a small break to each the chicken, pasta and salad you had cooked.

“This was nice. It’s been a while since I ate some real food. Drawbacks of being a busy businessman. Guess I need a real woman in my life.”

He smiled genuinely, which made you heart flutter for a second as you remembered your dream from this morning.

“Is there a man in your life enjoying your food?”

You shook your head. “Just cooking for myself.”

“That’s a shame, if you ask me.” He replied casually. “Any man would be damn happy with this. Don’t even cook for my brother Hvitserk or he won’t leave your side.” He smiled again.

Your cheeks heated under the praise. You had heard things about Ivar’s charming power but he rarely showed it at work – which was for the best or you would always be as red as a tomato.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You barely whispered and shook your head to clear your mind.

“Are you sure? Because you have been quite distracted lately, just like this morning during the meeting when you completely zoned out.”

“I’m just…tired.” You answered, slightly surprised Ivar was expressing some concern over someone else, especially an employee.

“Troubled sleep?”

Your eyes widened a little. His seemed to twinkle with something else than casual curiosity and you wondered if his question had a deeper meaning for a second before answering.

“You could say that.”

“Hmmm.” He stood up with the help of his crutch. “Well, since we are done here, I’m going let you get some sleep. May I have my coat back, please?”

His question made you realize you might have stared at him for a bit too long.

“Of course.” You almost jumped up from the couch and the both of you headed towards your bedroom.

Once there, you bent over to reach his coat on your bed. When you stood up, your back bumped against Ivar’s chest. Embarrassed, you turned around abruptly and handed him the piece of cloth to your boss. He took it gently from your hands before glancing at your bed.

“So, this is the famous place where you have been having all those troubling dreams.”

Your eyes raised up abruptly to meet his. “There are some things you should definitely not talk about some topics at work, where anybody could hear what you are saying.”

He knew. Of course, he knew. That sexy asshole knew everything about everyone even though you had mentioned it once to one of your closest coworkers.

“One could say you are obsessed. Well, your mind is at least.”

He gave you a teasing smirk which caused your heart to make a somersault in your chest.

“Mr Ragnarsson, I don’t know…”

“Shhh…” He put one finger on your lips and you were reminded of your earlier dream again. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, believe me. Quite the contrary.”

He took your chin between his fingers. His eyes intensely stared at yours.

“Tell me in your dreams, what are we doing in that bed? Are we fucking nice and slow? Or are you making me sweat for it?”

“It depends.” You gasped at your own words.

“Is that so?” Ivar hummed against your lips. “How many dreams did you have, you naughty girl?”

“A few.” You whispered before Ivar took your lips ravenously.

His hands slid down your body to squeeze your plush bottom and push it against your pelvis. In response, you embraced his upper body and dug your nails in his back.

He had awoken a fire in you, you were not even aware you possessed. It was more powerful than in the dreams and so much better that you did not want to it stop.

Breathless, Ivar’s lips left your own to attack your own. Your head fell backwards, heavy pants left your mouth.

“Mr. Ragnarsson, I...”

“Ivar.” He cut you off. “I definitely want you to call me Ivar when you come on my dick.”

That elicited a deep moan to leave your mouth. You dug your nails deeper in his skin and Ivar groaned.

“You were having one this morning, hmm? What were you doing in that dream?” He pushed his erected cock against your core. “Tell me.”

“You were…you were eating me out in the conference room.”

“I like that.” The tip of his tongue tickled your neck. “I can easily picture myself buried between, your thick thighs. What do you say we reenact some of those dreams?”

He was now rubbing himself against you.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered. Nothing was more important now than being under him, screaming his name.

He delicately pushed you backwards until the back of your knees met the bed and you had no choice but to fall on it.

Ivar took off his clothes, you hastily did the same. The two of you exchanged a fiery look, trying to remember every inch of the other’s body. For once, you did not feel ashamed of yours. On the contrary, Ivar’s eyes on you were making you feel like the most desirable human being on earth.

Ivar let his crutch fall on the floor and his naked body finally met yours. You became away right then and now of what was going to happen, meaning sleeping with your boss.

Ivar sensed your discomfort. “Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Nothing bad will come out of this. I’m going to make all your dreams come true.”

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @gearhead66​ @tephi101​ @therealcalicali​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @ivarswickedqueen​ @ivaraddict​ @akamaiden​ @mblaqgi​ @captstefanbrandt​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @elenarogersbarnes13

[the-lady-writes-what]

18.  I want you to say my name. No! Not that name. ‘My’ name. With Bakugou, please?

#18 with a side of light gore and NSFW coming right up.

Contents: dub-con/non con, choking, forced oral (receiving), yandere content. Minors, do not interact.

“He went this way!” 

You ran behind the other two pro-heroes. The smell of ash and smoke choked your senses. Blood pumped hard in your body, pushing your forward towards the greatest danger. With the power to demolish an entire building or even a city block quite literally in the palm of his hands, Katsuki Bakugou made a name for himself as the number one villain in Japan. If he couldn’t reach the top of the charts as a hero, then he would feared as the top criminal. 

Explosions erupted around you. Small ones mixed in with bigger impacts. Brick and mortar flew all around you. Dust clogged your senses. All three of you managed to dodge Bakugou’s attacks with a few scrapes. You saw him bobbing and weaving between the ruins he created. His razor sharp eyes peered through the clouds and debris. For a split second, you thought he was looking at you. 

“Don’t let him get away!”

“Keep up, (Hero Name)! Now’s our chance to bring this traitor to justice!”

Deep in the pit of your stomach, something didn’t feel right. You ran after the villain. You and the other heroes came to halt in an empty city block. Civilians had been evacuated for when Bakugou lost his temper, which happened every time he was cornered. Still, it shouldn’t have been as quiet as it was. 

“Where’d he go?” 

“He’s got to be around here some--” You didn’t get a chance to finish. 

Earth and smoke exploded around. Bits of concrete, asphalt, and stone blew you off your feet. Your fellow heroes were hit by the strongest blasts. Screaming and groans of agony filled your eardrums followed by a blaring ringing in your ears. Black dots danced in front of your eyes and you blacked out for a moment. When you opened your eyes again, a single figure stood out among the rubble. Bakugou stood over the bodies of your comrades. 

“And just so you don’t follow us.” Katsuki aimed his hand at the hero’s kneecap. 

There was more screaming. Blood now tinged the air. You were barely able to raise yourself up to your elbows. Your temples throbbed and you couldn’t see straight. Bakugou’s boots pounded the cracked asphalt as he made his way to you. 

“There you are, Y/N. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

Not your hero name, you wondered. Bakugou reached into his utility belt and retrieved a syringe holding an unknown fluid. You grabbed his wrist as he knelt in front of you and pressed the needle into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Bakugou pinned you to the ground then pushed down the plunger. 

“This should make you nice and docile,” Bakugou said with a smirk.

“(Hero Name)!” One of the pro’s called out.

Your vision blurred before going completely dark.

                                                       ---080---

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the piece of cold metal wrapped snug around your neck. Your hands and feet were left untied. As soon as your eyes were able to see, you took in your new surroundings. The room had no windows, a door, and a doorway that opened to a bathroom. Stone covered the walls, ceiling, and floor. Your new furnishings were sparse but comfortable-looking. A bed, an armchair, a plush rug, a bookshelf lined with novels, all your favorite. The implication didn’t startle you as much as that it was Bakugou that brought you to this place. 

Speak of the devil, where was he?

Just as you tried the door only to find it locked, you heard footsteps echoing down some sort of hallway beyond the confines of your room. Keys jingled and the metal door swung open. Bakugou looked more triumphant than ever despite his face dirty with grime, soot, and a bit of blood. 

“Alone at last.” He kicked the door closed and tossed the keys aside.

Your gaze traveled to him then to the keys he haphazardly tossed. 

“I wouldn’t count on it, princess. That collar around your neck prevents you from ever activating your quirk. You’re next to useless without it and don't think for a second you’re strong enough to get past me,” Bakugou chuckled. 

“Ground Zero, why are you doing this? Are you hoping to get ransom money?” You asked. 

“Ransom? Haha! I don’t think for a second that shitty commission is going to spend a dime getting you back even if that was my plan.” 

“Then why...”

Bakugou’s arms reached out and snaked around your waist. You were hauled off your feet and thrown back into the bed. Bakugou was on top of you in a flash. The cloying musk of soot and sweat made you turn your head and gag. Bakugou twisted your face so you were forced to look him in the eye. 

“Say my name,” he ordered. 

“What?” 

“Don’t make me fucking repeat myself, Y/N. You should least have the curtesy of calling me by name.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Bakugou remove his hand from your jaw and grasped and squeezed your throat. Your hands shot up to try and pry his fingers off, but it was useless. 

“Don’t remember me, do ya? I wouldn’t be surprised. You got on a fucking ego trip and forgot all about your childhood pal, didn’t you?” 

“Y-You became a villain...” You gasped. 

“So? What of it? That didn’t change my feelings. I wanted you so bad, but then you started hanging around all those extras. No matter how high I climbed, everybody else climbed higher and you never noticed me. If I can’t be the number one hero to society or to you, then I'll be the number one villain and get what I want most of all!” 

Bakugou’s lips slammed into yours. With one hand still attached to your throat, he kept you still. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and forced his way in. Bakugou caressed the inside of your mouth with the same hunger as a starving man. He pulled away quickly. You panted for breath but struggled to do so with his hand still wrapped around your neck. The cold metal of the collar pressed against your flesh. 

“Say my name.” Bakugou growled. 

“Ground Zero, please...”

“No,” he said. His free hand rand down your chest and found the zipper to your hero costume. Instead of pull on that, Bakugou grabbed a fistful of fabric and pulled with all his strength. Your costume ripped and fell away like it was made of tissue paper. Bakugou repeated the process until you lay in your underwear. 

“I want you to say my name.”

“Baku--”

“No! Not that name. My name.” Bakugou squeezed tighter until you were seeing star. 

“K-Katsuki!” You barked. 

His grip loosened. Bakugou, or rather Katsuki, slid down your barely clad body, tearing ruined pieces of clothing from your body. His calloused fingers yanked at the elastic of your panties until it snapped. He tore it away and nudged your legs apart. 

“That’s more like it!” Katsuki dove between your legs. 

The only thing you could do was lace your hands in Katsuki’s hair and pull. Eventually, his other hand released you so he could keep your legs apart. His tongue ran up and down your slit. Katsuki devoured your cunt, moaning at your taste. He made a feast of you, licking, slurping, and sucking your clit. Against your will, your body clenched up as pleasure seared down your spine. Your back arched and you dug your heels into the mattress when a tidal wave hit you. Your mind was reeling as your inner walls clenched around his tongue. Katsuki’s mouth and chin was soaked with your essence spilling over. You stared at his face long enough not to notice his hands unbuckling his pants and shoving them down past his hips. 

It wasn’t until you felt the blunt head of his cock poking your newly sensitive cunt that you understood his intentions. 

“Wait, wait, Katsuki! Don’t do this. Please don’t do this!”

“It’s a little too late for that,” he said. 

With one thrust, he was seated completely inside of you. Slowly at first, Katsuki rocked into you. The squelching sound of his cock rubbing your insides grew louder as he picked up the pace. Calloused fingers grabbed your hips to pull you closer to him and lifted your lower half off the mattress. Craning your neck, you could see how his cock cleaved you in two. Pushing and pulling back over and over and over. 

“S-Slow down, please!” 

“Fat chance, Y/N. You gotta learn that you’re not goin’ anywhere. You’re goin’ take responsibility for what I’ve become!”

Katsuki pulled your legs up until the back of your knees rested on his shoulders. He fucked you into the mattress. No matter how you squealed, cried, or begged, he wasn’t slowing down or stopping. You felt your walls clamp around him as another wave of pleasure coursed through you. Unable to stop yourself, you moaned aloud. 

“That’s it! Good fucking girl. Take it all and know that you’re mine!” 

He pounded you harder than before, increasing the loudness of your moans. Your brain turned to mush before your pleasure reached it peak. You clawed at the sheets beneath you as you screwed your eyelids tight. Katsuki’s animalistic grunts filled your ears next to the sounds of his cock driving into you. His thrusts grew erratic and lost all control as you came around him. You cried at the top of your lungs and burst. You gushed all over his cock. Not a second later, Katsuki slammed his hips against you with one more bruising thrust. Your lower belly grew warm as ropes of Katsuki’s come painted your insides. 

Katsuki wore the face of a triumphant demon of lust. He licked his lips at the prize sprawled out on the bed beneath him. You were flushed and warm all over. Your legs ached and screamed at you as Katsuki lowered them from his shoulders. He fixed his clothes and stood from the bed. 

“If only those extras could see you now,” he snickered. “Fucked out of your mind. By me, Katsuki Bakugou.”

You didn’t quite hear what he was saying. You stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

                                                     ---080---

I hope this is okay. I’m sorry if it’s a little long. I don't really know how to write shorter posts.

[chubbydrawer]

Polar Trouble

Tom had been looking forward to this all week! He always loved going to the zoo and seeing all the amazing animals! He always wanted to work there too but it was a long distance so I sadly didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Tom was a 21 year old blonde with blue eyes and fairly lean with a bit of muscle. His hair was short and swept to the side. His skin fair with light hair on his body. He always dressed in plaid button ups red being his go too! And always paired it with some straight cut jeans and converse! He looked good and he knew it! He arrived at the zoo parking lot and walked to the gate,handing his ticket to the clerk. He walked in seeing all the amazing decorations in the zoo! It was near the holidays and was a nicer winter day unusually in the 50s it was a perfect day to walk and see the animals! He rand to the first exhibit and stared at the amazingly huge wolves prancing around showing off to the public! They were so so beautiful! Wolves were his second favorite animal! His first being ....BEARS!!!! He got soo excited! He loved bears sooo sooo much! They were big and fluffy and he always wanted to hug them! He practically ran to the exhibit showing off different types of bears! He first saw the beautiful grizzly chowing down on some grub. He looked happy and stared at Tom for a second. It was almost as if he gave him a wink! He moved next to his favorite bear! The polar bears! He loved them for their beautiful white coats and great swimming ability! They looked so friendly and cuddly! But when he arrived at the display...they were gone!

“What! Where did they go!?”

One of the workers there came up to him, he was clean cut and maybe late 20s. He had a mini paunch and a nice trimmed mustache and green eyes matching his chestnut brown hair. “Hey bud! Sorry to burst your bubble but the polar bears won’t be displayed in their habitat today, they are getting check ups right now.”

“Awwww man that’s a bummer, they are my favorite things to see in the zoo! Maybe next time I guess.”

He started to walk away when the worker called out to him

“Hey buddy wait you a second! I’m not really supposed to do this but I know where the polar bears are housed right now which isn’t a bit behind their habitat! I can take you there real fast if you want a quick look at them!”

“ Oh my god really!!!? Thank you thank you sooo much!”

“It’s no problem it sucks when you can’t see your favorite animal and travel all this way!”

“ it def does, Tom btw!”

“Nate! Nice to meet ya!” He holds out his hand and Tom shakes it firmly.

Ton follows Nate to the back room and they open the door to a room with big cages filled with big comfy beds and food and water. And there were the bears! They roamed casually around the cages getting food and resting!

“Wow they are soooo beautiful! They are even bigger uo close!”

“They certainly are! It’s a pleasure working with them! They are all super friendly and playful!”

One of the bears came up to the cages shoving their nuzzle through the bars and licked Tom’s arm. He giggled at that

“Wow they are friendly! I wonder what it is like to be them. Just chilling everyday and swimming and being big!”

“Are you sure you’d want to find out what it would be like?”Nate smirked.

“ well duh!wouldn’t it be cool to become and animal you loved whenever you wanted!?”

“ I suppose it would be pretty neat! Want to check out one of the cages? It’s pretty big and comfortable I’ll show you how we designed it!”

“Sure!”

Tom walks inside before hastily hearing the cage door shut behind him! He runs back putting his hands on the bars!

“Hey what are you doing!?” Just then Nate pricks his finger with a needle!

“OW what the hell!”

“I’m gonna help you live a fantasy!”

“What are you talking about!”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride bud!”

“What ride? Let me out!”

Tom suddenly began to feel funny. He got super warm and began to sweat. “Wha-what’s going on! D-did you drug me?” He felt a tad woozy.

“No Tom I just gave you a simple prick. It does have side effects however!” Nate couldn’t force back his smiled he grinned ear to ear looking at Tom’s belly.

Tom looked to where he was staring and yelped! His once flat stomach was pushing into his button up making it tighter and tighter! He hesitantly touched it expecting it to be bloating but his fingers winked into his soft flesh. He shrieked once more and felt it surge forward more, further tightening his shirt.

“What did you do to me!”

Nate didn’t reply just stared at Tom drooling! He watched as his belly swelled even bigger now starting to make the space between his buttons gap. His pecks also started to soften more becoming plumper and soft to squeeze. Fuck he was swelling with fat! His now basketball sized gut blended with his lauded forming love handles stretching wider over the sides of his pants. His pants got tighter and his belly pressed into the button of them. He felt and he grew a fat pad, it pressing into his jeans. His thighs filled the space quickly making his pants tighter and making them make audible groans of being stretched too tight.

“My my what a fine specimen you are!” Nate snickered

“”Please, stop this!”

“Why? Then fun is just beginning!!

Tom watched as Nate shrank smaller. He looked up to see Nate wasn’t shrinking, he was getting taller! The fat piled on as he grew 6 foot and the 7 feet tall. PING!!!! PING!!! PING!!! His buttons popped off his belly one by one as it release his belly from its confines sending it surging down with a jiggle, the force popping his pants button off! His hands we bigger and looked much meatier! His nails also looked longer and more sharp! His converse were growing uncomfortably tight. He flexed his toes and as he did so giant feet ripped out the front! He stuck his foot out and noticed it was gigantic and covered in fur. It look like a paw! He shrieked again bumping up against the cage wall! His body shook as he grew thicker. RIIIIP! His ass burst from the seat of his pants as his thighs ripped open the seams, his body was much hairier now! Patches of white fur sprouting out of the rips and tares. He watched as his belly grew furrier and whiter. His big moobs quickly bursting the last of the buttons releasing them to sit on his giant gut. His face got rounder and his neck thickened. Looking at his hands he saw they were full on paws with pads and big claws! He watched as his nose and mouth uncomfortably pushed out in front of him creating a muzzle. He screamed loud, his voice deeper and raspy! His duck pressed through his pants growing bigger as well as his balls to match his bigger size. A tail sprouted above his giant ass and the fur quickly covered what bare skin was left. He stood there now a full sized fat polar bear in only his underwear and a shirt only hanging by a thread.

“What have you done!” Tom’s voice bellowed!

“Don’t worry it’s reversible! I wanted you to fulfill your dream of being big and cuddly! Now you are the very thing you love!”

“I-I like it but I don’t want to live in a zoo forever!”

“I have a proposal for you!”

“What is it.”

“How about you be like this for three days to get comfortable I’ll change you back and we can find a more easier way for you to switch from human to bear whenever you want! It’s more of a spell that gives you the power to do so! You can live in a dorm with me and work here! Sometimes as a person and other times preform as a bear!”

“Sounds intriguing. You sure I’ll be able to switch whenever I want?”

“Of course we have another guy here who loves being a grizzly, he was out earlier today. May have gave you a wink!”

“This is crazy but-I’m in!”

Nate opened the gate and walked into the cage and gave Tom a big cuddly hug! “Welcome to the zoo fam big guy!”

Tom blushed and felt his own fat furry body! He could get used to this!

[taehyungsgrowl]

shy!michael's bf LOVES dirty talk and he's good at it, michael - not so much, and since his bf loves teasing him as well, one day he decides to make michael play along. he orders michael to say very precisely what he wants his bf to do to him. michael's face is bright red, he's trembling and feels so humiliated but eventually it turns him on to keep saying "fuck me PLEASE i want your big fat cock in my tight little hole" over and over again 😥😥😥

I’ve had this sitting in my inbox for a bit! Sorry it took me so long to get to!

But I’m so in love with this concept omg! I’m gonna put a “read more” thing here since this is gonna start off w some smut and I don’t wanna make someone uncomfy if they don’t wanna see that on their dash. mindfulness is key, y’all. be nice to one another. 

Fuck! That’s right, baby. You like having my cock down your throat? Look at you.. boy wonder. The only wonders your working is on my cock, huh baby boy? Doing so good for me.

Just the thought of the words his boyfriend used in the bedroom made Michael burn brightly. He was almost embarrassed at how much he enjoyed it; how much he enjoyed being told how good he was.

And Y/N loved the way Michael reacted to his words. Pink cheeks and lips hanging open. Especially when Y/N decided to whisper a little ‘can’t wait to fuck your tight little hole later’ before sending Michael off to class - red faced and flustered.

What Michael wasn’t sure of was what gave his boyfriend the inspiration to ask this of him;

“Babe,” he chuckled into Michael’s collarbone, nipping the sensitive skin lightly, “Wanna try something different.” he kissed his neck, peeping his eyes up at Michael.

Michael nodded fervently, “What is it?” already agreeing to whatever is was. He never would have imagined what was going to be asked of him.

Y/N pushed Michael down on the bed so his head crashed down on his pillow. He straddled his boyfriends waist - admiring the halo of golden curls that framed his perfect cherub face. He ground his hips lightly into Michael’s crotch. “I want you to talk dirty to me, baby. Let me hear those filthy thoughts of yours.” he failed to hide the smirk that spread across his face.

Michael felt the cotton of his boxer briefs stretch against his hardening cock as the words fell from the boys lips. “I - I can’t.. I don’t know how,” he pouted, the blush spreading down his neck.

Y/N’s fingers trailed down Michael’s chest. His skin was smooth and goosebumps raised as each finger drew itself lower and lower. “You can..” he leaned down, breathing into Michael’s mouth, “and you will.” Michael was met with a firm kiss, Y/N’s hand cupping his jaw.

The softest whimper left Michael’s lips. He was going to make a fool of himself, he was sure. But with the way Y/N was looking at him; lust filled eyes blown wide, jaw muscles tensed, and saliva coated lips - Michael was in for it.

Y/N began to palm his own crotch, feeling himself harden at the thought of his shy boyfriend begging to be fucked. He imagined the way Michael would sound. His voice and panting echoing through the thin walls of their dorm.

Y/N’s hand trailed down his boxers and onto Michael’s bare thigh. He squeezed it, “C’mon baby. Let me hear what you want me to do.” His hand found Michael’s cloth covered cock, “or I won’t do anything at all,” he shrugged, a devilish smirk on his face. Y/N he wasn’t being fair. With Michael’s underwear already leaking with precum, he knew Michael needed to be fucked.

But he was still going to make him beg for it.

Michael’s hips buck forward as Y/N’s hand met his cock, “please,” he let out softly, “please fuck me,”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N shook his head, “that’s not gonna work, baby boy. You know what I want. I want you to show me just how filthy that mouth of yours is.” He chuckled, unable to hide the amused look on his face.

“Y/N..” Michael whined. He’d never felt so flustered in his life. He was used to hearing the dirty words that slipped from Y/N’s lips. But for him to actually say them. Michael was so embarrassed. “C-can you fuck me? Y/N please.” He stuttered, his pink flush now a constant on his face.

Y/N pouted seeing just how vulnerable Michael looked in that moment; he could help his sweet boy out.

He took Michael’s hand and kissed his knuckles, “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Michael. You know what I want.”

Michael’s neglected cock was painfully straining against his underwear, he craved to be touched. Michael wanted his face to be pressed into his pillow while Y/N bucked his hips into him over and over.

“I want y-you to fuck me.. H-hard.” he stuttered out. Poor boy was almost shaking with embarrassment; of course he trusted Y/N, but the words sounded to unnatural falling from his lips, he couldn’t help but feel self conscious.

Y/N began to rid himself of his underwear, letting it fall carelessly on the ground. His cock springing up proudly. He began to run his hand up and down his shaft, using his thumb to caress his head. “Mhmm, what do you want me to fuck you with, baby?” his free hand flying to Michael’s waistband, peeling it down, slowly.

Michael let out a pathetic whine as his boyfriends knuckles brushed against his own hardening cock. He sat up, lifting his upper body off the bed. Y/N continued to be sat on Michael’s thighs, their lengths grazing against each other. Michael’s tummy felt like trapeze artists flipping and turning. He leaned forward trying to kiss Y/N. Maybe if I kiss him I won’t have to say it.. He mused to himself, trying to find a loophole.

But Y/N wasn’t having it. He quickly backed up before his lips could be touched by Michael’s pink pouty mouth, “Baby..” the word was sweet, but his voice was stern, “your sweet kisses won’t get you out of this.”

“Y/N please!!!” Michael exasperated, “I need your cock to- to fill me up.” he was a little proud of only stumbling over his words once.

“That’s better, Michael.” Y/N approved. He climbed off of Michael’s meaty thighs, grabbing Michael’s hips and turning him over. “Now let me hear more. You can do that for me, right baby?” Michael was on laying flat on his tummy now with Y/N knelt between his legs.

Michael looked over his shoulder, his blonde curls sweeping across his face. His blue eyes wildly lit up, seeing the bottle of lube nestled between his boyfriend’s hands.

Michael moaned quietly, the soft bed sheets becoming wet with his leaking tip. “My ass needs to be f-fucked by you. Your big cock,” he turned his face back around, staring at the pillow, “make it hurt when I walk.” he bit his lower lip, raising his ass in the air, “Please” he let out weakly.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. He didn’t think his cock could get any harder than it was at that moment. Hearing his sweet, overthinking boyfriend let that guard down for him.. He just wanted to kiss him.

“Such a good boy for me. Tell me.. Who makes you feel good?” he pressed on.

“You do.” Michael wiggled his rear end, his member gaining friction against the mattress.

Michael heard the wet sounds of the lube squirting onto Y/N’s hand and he involuntarily trembled, already imagining the wetness, the slickness it would cause.

“Y/N..” his crotch was mercilessly rutting against the sheets, “I - I need your cock in me please I can’t take it anymore.”

His boyfriend spread the lube on his throbbing hole. The coldness making Michael hiss in response. His entrance was teased by a finger, slowly intruding in, preparing him for the thickness that awaited.

Y/N prepared himself; coating the strawberry scented gel onto his cock. Michael picked out the flavor. Something about that boy loved the sweet and tart flavor of berries.

A strangled whimper caught in Michael’s dry throat as the head of Y/N’s dick teased his entrance. He was throbbing, aching, sweating for it.

Y/N chuckled through the groan that threatened to leave him as the tip of his cock rubbed against Michael’s hole. So pink and pretty; he wanted to destroy him.

“Y/N” Michael let his head fall on to the pillow dramatically, “I need you inside me now, I-I need you thick cock to split me,” he cried out, driven red.

Firm hands gripped his framed hips as Y/N pushed himself inside. His ears rand with the sound of his name being screamed by Michael. His tender voice sounded fragmented as he adjusted the the size. Y/N thickness spread him open. He clenched around the pulsing manhood; his own leaking cock, smashed between his body and the bed.

“Feels so good,” his mouth hung open against the pillow. Each buck of Y/N’s hips sent Michael into a deeper facet of pleasure.

Michael felt a set of finger tangle in his tousled curls, gripping them tightly. “You like that, baby? Tell me how good I make you feel.” Y/N groaned as his balls slapped against Michael, “Let them hear you, boy wonder.”

“Y-yes, fuck. Y/N you. You make me feel so good.” he said between gritted teeth.

Y/N tugged his hair harder, making him turn his head over his shoulder. Blue eyes brimmed with tears, teeth indentations on his plump lips from biting down so hard, the sight was enough to make Y/N explode.

Michael’s eyes wandered down to his backside. Mesmerized by how Y/N’s cock disappeared in him. Watching as Y/N pulled out the shaft only to ram in back inside, made Michael rut deep enough on the mattress that he shot out a load of cum. He cried in ecstacy, feeling the hot liquid pool under his belly while Y/N continued his rhythmic repeat of movement.

Michael squeezed around Y/N. Constricting and releasing repeatedly. Y/N knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, “Sooo tight, baby” he pumped himself in and out before he finally came undone, releasing his hot cream on Michael’s back.

--

Michael’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt a warm towel wiping his back. Y/N carefully collected his discarded seed off of Michael, ridding him of the sticky white stain. His eyes reopened as he felt Y/N lay besides him. Y/N still couldn’t believe Michael was his. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him affectionately.

Michael smiled into the kiss. “Was that okay?” he asked nervously.

“Are you kidding baby? That was,” he kissed him again, “so hot!” Y/N pulled back and took in Michael’s expression, “You didn’t feel too uncomfortable did you? You know I would neve-” Y/N began to second guess the experience. Of course he enjoyed it, but if Michael hadn’t he wouldn’t ever push him to try it again.

“Y/N,” Michael laughed, “I liked it.” he blushed profusely, hiding his face in his boyfriend's chest.

okay this took me longer to finish than i expected but here it is!!

tagging: @asstichrist @codyfernss @1-800-bitchcraft@daadddysprincesss@lovelylangdonx@theharvestgirloffire@sweetlangdon@americanhorrorstudies@ghostiesbedroom@queencocoakimmie@michael-langdon-appreciation@ritualmichael @cryptid-coalition@maso-xchrist @et-tu-bitch@eternal-langdon @langdonsrapture @russianspacegeckosexparty@yourkingcodyfern@missantichrist@flowersiren@cherryberryann @rocketgirl2410@infernal-langdon @ms-mead@kissydevil @nana15774 @hplotrfan@grangerdang-r @wroteclassicaly 

[lifelinerr]

Hogwarts AU

“Yo (Name) don’t step on my heart like that!”

You rolled your eyes as Taylor Varia called out to you.

“Varia, I will step on whoever’s heart I want.”

You heard him laugh as you rounded a corner and entered potions class, sitting down next to Arika and taking out a piece of parchment.

Arika smiled at you before turning back to Snape as he was babbling about how to bottle glory.

“So, uh we still going to Honeydukes this weekend?”

You both went silent as Snape’s eyes landed on the two of you, not daring to move until he moved to the next person.

“Yeah, but I also invited Wynn and Adams.”

Arika stopped writing, frowning at you.

“Wynn and Adams? What- I thought it was just the two of us!”

Her voice had gotten noticeably louder which caused you to shush her.

“Miss Lanphear what could possibly be so important to discuss at my class?”

Snape’s voice echoed through the classroom, making you and Arika jump.

“Er, nothing sir, we were just discussing potio-”

“Ten points from Ravenclaw.”

He turned around, walking to the center of the class and proceeded to explain the day’s lesson.

With one last glance at each other you and Arika turned back to taking notes.

*****

“Of course he would take points from Ravenclaw, why would he take points from his own house?”

You bit into an apple you had gotten from the kitchens, as Arika dismissed you with a wave of a hand.

“Not that I’m complaining, I can’t stand Rand lecturing me over losing house points.”

You two were lounging next to the black lake, Arika’s head on your lap as you talked.

“What’s next period?”

“Lemme see, I think we have Transfiguration.”

You hummed in response before remembering that you two were in different houses.

“You mean you have Transfiguration? I still don’t know what I have.”

Arika’s head shot up as she blinked at you a few times.

“How the hell do you forget your classes? We’re in our third week of the new school year!”

You shrugged, as you stared ahead.

“But seriously, who are you gonna ask about this?”

You put your apple away.

“I know for sure Taylor doesn’t know our schedule, he only cares about Astronomy...”

Arika clicked her tongue while thinking.

“Why don’t you ask the other Varia then? T2 I mean, he’s cool and I’m sure he knows Ravenclaw’s schedule.”

You mulled the thought over in your head for a few seconds.

“Seems like a decent plan, you’d know where to find him right?”

Arika let out a short laugh, causing you to frown.

“What?” “It’s funny that you assume any of us really know where T2 is, he’s a mystery unlike his brother.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, then I’m going to have to find him myself.”

With that you got up, dusting yourself off and strutted over to the castle, thinking of places this mysterious boy could be.

*****

After a long and useless search you ended up in the kitchens, your last hope being that one of the house elves knew where he was.

“Sniffy.”

You crouched down at the house elf’s level, addressing him as kindly as you could.

“Do you by any chance know where T2 Varia is?”

The house elf in front of you squirmed slightly, quickly offering you a plate of cookies which you refused with a smile.

“Sniffy, focus, do you know where this boy is?”

“Master Varia the eldest is usually in the forbidden forest at this time of day.”

You cursed under your breath getting up, thanking the house elves once more and dismissing their plates of food before walking out.

You had a new destination now.

The forbidden forest.

*****

Every sound you heard made your head snap in its direction, even twigs you yourself stepped on made you flinch.

“This is pointless.”

You sighed, slumping down on a lodge and holding your head in your hands.

Then you heard it.

The sound of something moving.

Your head snapped up immediately, your eyes searching the space in front of you but nothing came into view.

You wet your lips, standing up as quietly as you could eyeing the clearing once more, before stepping backwards and hitting something.

The scream that escaped your lips was sure to wake every living creature in the area up.

Warm hands were placed on your shoulder.

“Shhh.”

The voice was right beside your ear, you gulped looking up and seeing none other than T2 Varia.

“T2! I was looking for you!”

He looked around before settling his eyes on you.

“Why?”

“What? Oh yeah, so your brother is in Ravenclaw right? Do you know what his schedule for today is? I forgot mine.”

T2 heaved a sigh, muttering something under his breath before responding.

“He- You have Herbology in thirty minutes, then Transfiguration, then lunch.”

He looked directly into your eyes as you nodded.

“Thank you, I’ll definitely return the favor.”

You winked at him before starting to walk past him.

“Wait.”

You turned around, surprised at the tone of his voice. He cleared his throat once.

“These woods are dangerous as I’m sure you’ve heard, I’ll come with you.”

You muttered another ‘Thank you’ before proceeding to walk beside him, struggling a bit to match his long strides.

*****

“Psst (Last Name), what’s uppppp?”

“The sky Varia, what else?”

Taylor huffed beside you, not even bothering to take notes.

“Whenever unearthed, the root screams. The scream of a mature Mandrake when it is unearthed will kill any person who hears it, but a young Mandrake's screams will usually only knock a person out for several hours.”

Professor Sprout kept explaining about Mandrakes, but it was hard taking notes with Varia bugging you.

“Now each of you find a partner and take an empty pot and replant the Mandrake in it.”

You turned towards Taylor, raising an eyebrow as he nervously picked up a pot.

“So, (Name) what do you wanna do this weekend?”

You adjusted your earmuffs, pulling the pot with the mandrake in it closer.

“I’m going out with Arika, why?”

He said something which you didn’t hear. You frowned at him mouthing that you didn’t hear him.

‘What?’

Taylor mouthed back at you, taking off his earmuffs.

“No Taylor put them back on!”

“And transfer them to the other pot!”

Student all around you pulled their Mandrakes out of the pot, you could barely hear baby screams.

You winced as Taylor hit the ground with a thud. You crouched down next to him but he seemed to be unconscious.

“Miss (Last Name), would you please take Mister Varia to the hospital wing?”

You sighed, asking for help and carrying the boy out of the greenhouse.

*****

“Psst, Esposito, you awake?”

It was probably not a good idea to sneak into the Gryffindor tower, but Alex gave you the password himself, so you considered it acceptable.

“Not now (Name).”

He turned in his bed, causing you to have a mini heart attack. You didn’t know what would happen if you got caught but you didn’t want to find out.

“Come on, you promised we’d practice flying today.”

He turned back towards you, sighing.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

You rolled your eyes as you tiptoed your way out of the dormitory and the tower, waiting for him next to Fat Lady’s portrait.

“Waiting for your boyfriend?”

“No!”

“Then why is that boy always talking about you?”

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Ready?”

You nearly jumped as Alex came through the portrait. You nodded and began your way towards the Quidditch pitch.

“So uh, just wanted to say you’ve definitely improved a lot! So good for you.”

ALex made small talk as you two tried your best to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris.

“Why are you being so awkward? You’re usually not this awkward.”

You whispered as you two rounded a corner.

“Yeah well, there’s a first time for anything.”

You smirked devilishly.

“I never said it was your first time…”

Alex lightly punched your shoulder.

*****

“So, just remember to hold on tight.”

Alex guided your hands along the broom.

“Put your hands here and lift off with your feet.”

He gave you a smile as you pushed your feet off the ground and started soaring into the air.

“Okay, what now?”

“Now just let your body guide the broom.”

He waved his hands in the air bizarrely.

“You sound like a yoga instructor, quit it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus your attention and guide the broom upward.

Nothing happened. You let out a groan of frustration.

“Hey, just tilt the broom in the direction you want to go, and- don’t joke- try to feel it in your bones.”

You tried to suppress a scoff as you did as he instructed.

“Hey, it’s working, wait no! Not like this!”

You started to feel like the broom’s control was out of your hands, as you ascended upwards faster than you had intended.

“Wait there (Name) I’m coming to the rescue.”

“Wow, Alex Esposito, my knight in shining armor.”

“Can you stop that for a second!”

As you were floating in the air, Alex got onto his own broom, soared up and stopped next to you.

He reached his hand towards your broom.

“Hey buddy…”

“Are you talking to the broom? Please tell me you’re not talking to the broom.”

Alex glared at you as you took hold of the broom, guiding it downward as he descended alongside you.

You reached the ground and hopped off the broom.

“I’m never doing that again, to heck with improvements!”

Alex chuckled beside you, hiding the brooms somewhere safe.

He turned to you opening his mouth to say something.

“Who’s there?! Show yourself.”

Alex and you looked at each other, alarmed.

“Run!”

*****

“(Name), (Name)? Wake up, Mcgonagall will be pissed.”

Wynn shook you awake as you stirred from your sleep.

“I’m here, I’m awake, what did I miss?”

You sat up straight, adjusting your tie as you stared in front of you, not able to process much for a few seconds.

“Nothing much, except Varia kept tossing notes over.”

Adams handed a note to you and you groaned as you threw it to the ground.

“Hey, don’t litter!”

Wynn bent down and picked up the note, placing it next to your textbooks.

“Sorry, I’m not in a good mood.”

“Yeah I can tell.”

Adams closed his textbook, looking directly into your eyes.

“You’re tired.”

“And Adams the genius speaks again!”

You shook your head, letting out a sigh.

“Sorry, yeah, I am.”

Wynn placed her arms on the table in front of you.

“Why though? Your secret flying lessons again?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Yeah, I know it’s useless but I don’t want to be the only sixth year who doesn’t know how to fly.”

“I never said it was useless.”

Wynn’s eyes drift towards her quill.

“Whatever makes you happy must be important, after all isn’t that all that matters?”

You hum, and turn forward as professor Mcgonagall enters the class, beginning yet another lesson.

*****

“I can’t believe you invited all these people today.”

Arika huffed, walking towards the shop in front of you two.

“It’s just Wynn and Adams!”

Arika huffed again, opening the door for you. She walked in after you.

“(Name)!”

You head snapped in the direction of the voice and you waved at Alex who was across the room.

“Someone else? Seriously I thought this was going to be the two of us!”

“Hey (Name).”

You turned around and saw Taylor who waved at you nervously.

“(Name)! I thought it was just the two of us-”

“So many people, wow.”

Wynn and Adams came into view respectively.

And then everyone started talking at the same time.

“(Name) can I ask you a question?”

“Come on (Name)! I thought this was just the two of us!”

“Yeah, same thing here.”

“I don’t mind you bringing friends I’m just glad to be invited.”

“Um, I don’t really know what is going on… so what is going on?”

You groaned and held up a hand.

“Everyone just shut up!”

Everyone stopped talking all of a sudden, which surprised you enough for you to lose your train of thoughts. You didn’t expect them to actually listen to you.

“I- I’m gonna leave this place with one person…”

Everyone nodded at you, urging you to continue.

“And that person is…”

[edourado]

Karedevil prompt: OK, this just came to me this morning, with winter descending upon us and me trying to fight off a cold; I've read several "Karen takes care of Matt while he's sick" fics, but I'd love to see a "Matt takes care of (or at least attempts to) Karen".

Hello, Anon. Yes, I’m aware that winter has come and gone for you (I’m assuming). But here I am, and here it is, your prompt, finally. 

It took an angsty turn. I’m sorry, I know you were hoping for fluff, and I fully intended to write it, but there, out of nowhere, I had ten pages of angsty stuff. Hope you like it, anyway. 

Enjoy, and thanks for your prompt ♥

No Love Left to Waste

Matt knew that he deserved what he got from Karen and Foggy these days. 

Everything that had happened that year was complicated. The presence of Elektra made him do some pretty stupid shit, like lying to his business partner and secretary, legal assistant, girlfriend. His friends. Yes, there was a ton of shit within himself he had to sort out.  Yes, Elektra did help him realise that he could not keep what he had going on up for much longer. Yes, everything was a mess. 

Yes, he fucked up. And no, it was not Foggy’s fault. Nor was it Karen’s.

He understood she needed time. She was not as mad as she had been, initially, once he explained, once he told her, once he came clean. She was hurt - didn’t tell him, but he could feel it. He felt it every time she moved or spoke or blinked or swallowed or tried to hide it.

She was not mad, but she was not too happy, either. They talked, she helped him, he helped her, she even smiled here and there. But it was still so strange, there was this huge gap that wasn’t there before.

That’s why he understood when he had to find out through Foggy that she was sick as a dog, caught too many times under the harsh winter weather.

“Why do you smell like chicken?” he had asked Foggy when they met in his fancy office on Wednesday, after hours.

“Oh”, he said, typing on his office computer. “I took some soup to Karen at lunch. She’s super sick, poor thing. Oh, shit, I’m in. I’m hacking my office. No big deal.”

They went to work after that, collecting important information Matt needed (well, Jessica needed), counting the minutes until the cameras started working again.

Almost two hours later, they walked out, Matt waving his cane around and holding Foggy’s arm, for the security guard’s benefit. No way the new goofy, technologically challenged and harmless looking guy and his blind friend had anything to do with the cameras powering down, right?

“So Karen’s sick?” he asked once they reached the sidewalk.

“Yeah”, Foggy confirmed. “I told her to take care of herself, but you know that one. Once she sets her mind on something…” 

Matt tried not to be obvious about the fact that he didn’t know about that.

“How you guys doing?” Foggy asked and Matt raised his brows, sighing.

“Ok, I guess.”

”Yeah, sure, that totally sounds true.”

“I don’t know, man”, he said. “I told her everything, she had a bunch of questions, I did my best to answer them, she understood. It’s just…”

“Not the same.”

“Yeah. And she’s not, like, lying to me or pushing me away or anything, but she’s… Closed off.”

They walked a few steps further.

“I think she needs some time, man. It’s a lot to process, what with Elektra and what happened between you guys and everything…”

“Yeah”, he said, feeling the wind pick up and sting his face. “Yeah, I know.”

Foggy got in a cab and Matt got in another. After giving his address to the driver, he sat back and thought about his current situation with Karen.

He knew, of course he knew, that seeing Elektra in his bed stung. And, after he told her and explained why she was there, it didn’t make it any better. Karen is an intelligent woman. She did not ask him further about their involvement, just took what he offered and that was enough for her to reach her own - the right - conclusions.

“We were not…” he had told her. “We were not involved, Karen, not anymore. She had been poisoned, Stick had just saved her life.”

She had stood there, hip against the empty office window, arms crossed, looking at him, thinking about it, not mad, not angry, listening, but closed off, reserved, hurt, she was still very hurt.

“I believe you”, she said when he started promising her he was telling the truth.

And, his senses always so sharp, he heard what she didn’t say.

“I actually don’t.”

And maybe his senses were super humanly sharp, but, in that moment, he wondered if Karen‘s were, too, since, even as he did not tell her of all the intimate moments he had shared with Elektra these past few months (the decoy kiss, the innuendos, the jokes, the mapping of each other’s scars, plans of running away together), she seemed to see them, to watch those moments as he remembered them.

Since then, that tension remained. For the rest of their talk, all throughout their next ones, even when she tried to act like it was OK, when he tried to tell himself he was imagining it.

Almost a year later and it was still there. And now she was sick,enough to miss work and enough to make Foggy use his lunch break to get her soup.

The cab left him in front of his building, and he climbed the stairs and walked through his own door in a haze.

A year ago, he would not have to find out by someone else. A year ago, he would have heard it in her voice, felt the extra heat of her skin, he would have known just by being in her presence.

Now, he didn’t know because she kept their contact to a minimum. And he couldn’t blame her, but accepting it was proving to be a challenge, too.

He changed into casual clothes and walked out again, hoodie over his head, hiding his face.

When Matt got to the corner of her street, he walked towards the alley that gave him access to her fire escape.

It didn’t take long for him to locate her. Her apartment was quiet, there was no movement, aside from her laboured breathing. She was in bed, surrounded by an armour made of blankets and pillows, almost fully asleep.

Matt thought about taking the main entrance, climbing the stairs and knocking, giving her the chance to refuse him. But she was warm in her bed, all tucked in, he didn’t want to make her move.

After that conclusion, the obvious, sound, right call would be for him to leave, call her tomorrow. But he was here and he could hear her and, he realized, his chest ached with her absence.

When he got to her window, he almost smiled. It was cracked open, a thin gap letting frigid air inside. She had been taken so many times, so many people have come for her, and here she was, leaving her window open while she lied there in her bed, ready for plucking.

Or, he noticed while opening it and swinging a leg inside, maybe not so ready. There was a gun inside her bedside table drawer, fully loaded.

Even if Matt couldn’t smell traces of gunpowder and strong coffee, he could smell Frank Castle’s influence.

Walking in and closing the window, he stood in place for a few seconds, debating if he should leave, if he should stay, if he should let her know he was there.

When she let out a series of sneezes and a moan-like little cry, he swallowed and walked to her, until he was sitting on the edge of her bed, with her facing him, lying on her side, wrapped in her blankets like a fat burrito.

Matt took his hand to her hair and almost sighed when the strands moved against his fingers and his palm. He missed that feeling so much.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, groggy, half asleep, softly, after opening her eyes slowly.

“I heard you were sick”, he said, something in his chest tightening, he missed her so much. “Wanted to see if you were ok.”

Sniffing, Karen didn’t move or protest when his hand went to her face, thumb tracing her features.

“You shouldn’t leave your window open”, he said, something like warm water running inside him, relief, maybe, that she wasn’t kicking him out.

Her eyes closed, Karen chuckled.

“Frank said the same thing.”

He knew Frank had been there. By the feel of it, he was a regular visitor. But hearing her talk about him so casually, confirming what he already knew, it almost physically hurt him.

He was jealous, Matt realized.

“Was he the one that gave you the gun?” he asked, trying not to betray his feelings, his thumb still caressing her face.

“No, that’s mine”, she said, taking a hand from inside her blanket cocoon and wiping her nose with a crumpled tissue. “He just brought me a new box of bullets.”

He had a thousand things he wanted to say to that. Most of them, he knew very well, were just out of jealousy.

He knew Frank well, by now. Knew what he had done for her, how he had saved her, knew he was not dangerous to her. But the urge to go off and tell her to stay away from Frank at all times was there, on the tip of his tongue, because he’s dangerous, he’s unpredictable, unstable, his enemies are dangerous and powerful, she could become a target, he could-

“He made me a shitload of soup”, she said, hiding her face inside her blankets right after, a fit of cough overtaking her. “Shit, I hate this”, she said, and Matt couldn’t think about the extent of her relationship with Frank right now - he had no right to think about it.

“Have you been to a doctor, Karen?”

“It’s just a cold”, she said, rubbing her nose. “I don’t need a doctor.”

Sighing, Matt reached inside his pocket for his phone. He would much rather call Claire, but he took up so much for her free time as it was, and he knew she was busy with Luke tonight, one of Rand’s hires would have to do.

Karen complained when the doctor answered the phone and Matt asked if she could do a house call. She insisted that she didn’t need to see anyone, reaching out for more tissues, coughing and sneezing, freezing.

“You have a fever, Karen”, he said, hand on her forehead, so glad she didn’t bat it away. “It’ll be quick.”

He stood there while the older doctor examined her, stethoscope to her chest and back, measuring her temperature, asking questions.

“She needs a lot of rest, regular intake of fluids and healthy food”, she told Matt. “This is a prescription for some pills, the ones she’s taking won’t do much good”, she handed him the piece of paper. “Make sure she’s warm, but  you should let some air in.”

“Thank you, doctor”, he said, walking the woman to the door.

Matt closed the door and turned around to walk back to Karen’s bedroom. He found her sitting in bed, the covers away from her, the window open again.

“This is not helping, you know?” he said, walking to it and closing it, leaving the bare minimum for some air to come and ventilate the place.

“I don’t- she said, moving to get her hair out of her face. “I don’t feel comfortable. My body hurts.”

“I know”, he said, walking to her bed, not really knowing what to do.

What he wanted to do was sit by her and wrap her in his arms, touch her head to his chest and not let go of her until she felt better. But, given her aforementioned lack of comfort, cuddling him would be the very last thing she wanted to do.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead and she sighed, annoyed.

“No. But I have to eat, I guess.”

“You do”, he said, moving to help her up, and it was such a small thing, but he wanted to smile when she accepted his hand. “We’ll warm up some of Foggy’s chicken soup”, he tried joking, lifting her from her bed slowly.

“Frank ate that”, she said, and he could swear he heard a hint of a smile in her voice. “Said he knew Foggy meant well, but ‘store bought shit it’s only gonna make you sicker’.”

“And then he made you soup?” Matt asked, trying not to betray annoyance.

“Yes. Like a ton of it.”

It was, indeed,  in a huge pot over her stove, and it actually smelled pretty nice. It was, Matt assessed, lukewarm.

He actually opened his mouth to ask if Frank did this a lot. Came in and made himself at home at her apartment, or if he cooked for her a lot. Ask what else he did. He doubted she would dignify his questions with answers, so he just closed it again.

“If you want to eat in bed, I can take it for you”, he offered after she groaned to sit on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Yeah, ok.”

Turning around, she walked out of the kitchen, sneezing twice on her way back to bed.

He took a bowl full of - surprisingly rich - soup for her, sitting at the foot of the bed while she ate. When he came back from the kitchen a second time, with a glass of water for her, he found her asleep, her breathing heavy and her skin still too warm.

MInutes later and he was closing the door after himself, running downstairs to the first drug store he could find to get her pills, along with some chocolate things he knew she liked. When he came back, she was still sleeping.

“Karen”, he called softly, a hand on her forehead, moving some hair away from her face. “You have to take your pills.”

“Hmm”, was all she said, before sniffing and going right back to sleep.

Sighing, Matt opened the boxes and had all the four pills she needed to take in his hand when he tried again.

“Karen. Come on, just take your pills and then you can go back to sleep.”

She took a deep breath and moved her arm from inside her blankets, asking for the pills, blinking. He gave her one by one, and she took sips of water to swallow them, and then turned around to go back to sleep when she was done.

“Can you dim the lights?” she asked. “It’s too bright.”

There was only one lamp on, on the bedside table near her window. Matt walked to it and switched it off, leaving the room in complete darkness - not that it mattered to him.

Walking outside to refresh her glass of water, he rested his hands on the counter and took a deep breath.

She doesn’t seem to mind having him in her space. Yes, being sick is taking up most of her attention, but given Karen’s history, he would think she’d put up some sort of fight. Maybe things are finally starting to go back to normal, they can go back to their normal, maybe they can-

Maybe…

Maybe him being there is of no consequence to her. Maybe the way things ended between them didn’t bother her anymore because she was over it. Maybe she didn’t have time to think about it, with Frank Castle stopping by and making her soup and going with her to meet a source for one of her stories or lingering around her long enough Matt could smell traces of her perfume on him when they met, sometimes, on random rooftops.

Maybe.

Even while he told himself not to do it, he focused on the inner walls of her apartment, on the traces left in the carpet, looking for signs that another pair of shoes walked around, looking for bigger clothes in her coat closet, looking for something that didn’t belong, looking for something.

He found plenty, but not enough.

There was a box of bullets, sealed, but she had told him Frank brought it for her. There was a first aid kit stocked with enough medicine and equipment to put a few nurses to shame. There was a dog leash inside a bag, and Matt does not remember Karen owning a dog.

Still. That proved nothing. And, even if it did, why was it any of his business.

With his attention back inside her bedroom, Matt listened and moved to make her a warm cup of tea. She was about to wake up.

Just in time, she started coughing when he was halfway to her bedroom again. 

After taking a few sips, Karen placed the cup on the bedside table and lied on her side, facing him, who sat on the floor by her bed.

She looked at him for a while and he felt her eyes wandering his face.

“Why are you here, Matt?” she asked, voice so small.

There were many answers to that. “Because you’re sick”, “Because I was worried”, “Because I miss you”. None of those, however, were the whole truth. 

“Because I lost you”, was what he said, sitting there on her floor, his back against the cold wall, glad the apartment was dark, so she couldn’t really see him that well. “And it’s killing me

The “I don’t care” he said to Elektra when she expressed being sorry he lost everything rang loud in his ears, and he wondered again if Karen couldn’t read his mind.

She stayed silent for another few seconds and he could swear her eyes were drilling holes in his skin. 

“I lost you first.”

Matt felt his breathing changing, that something inside his chest tightening again.

“And it killed me, too. Because I didn’t know why it was happening.”

He didn’t need evidence of all that had gone wrong with them, he knew it all. Hearing her say it was not any easier because of it, though.

“That’s because you didn’t have me, then”, he admitted. “Not all of me.”

He wanted to move, to get up from the floor and climb in bed with her, hold her tight to him, make up for all the time they lost, all that time he could have had her, they could have had each other.

“Frank said I loved you”, she whispered and it was like a small, tiny electric shock inside him. “And maybe I thought I did. I don’t know.”

His hands closed in fists around nothing, but when she moved to get another sip of her tea, it unlocked him from his immobile state against the wall.

“There’s too much we don’t know about each other”, she continued. “Even if I did love you, it wasn’t the real you. Maybe it was the idea of you.”

When she placed the mug back down, he was sitting with his arm supported on her mattress, his chin on top of his own hand, and her face was close to his when she lied back down.

“I loved the idea of you, too”, he said, running the tip of his fingers on her hair, like he always wanted to do, always, always, since day one. “I didn’t take the time to know you for real. Only what you made me feel.”

She sighed and went on looking at his face in the dark.

“It wasn’t just you”, she said, so small, almost afraid. “I didn’t tell you a lot of things.”

He wanted to ask why not, but he felt as if his voice would shatter the spell.

“I don’t know if you would be able to love the real me”, she said, almost as if it was a secret, her voice small and tight.

His whole body ached to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and not let go anymore, for anything.

Instead, he just sat there on her floor, his fingers on her hair, trying to fix his life.

“The parts of you I know, I already love”, he said and it felt more like a confession than anything he had ever said in church.

“Is that why you’re here?” Karen asked again, taking his hand from her hair, wrapping her fingers around his palm.

Matt nodded, closing his eyes, resting his face against her mattress, silently asking for everything.

“And because I want to love all of you.”

After a moment, she moved and he raised his head.

“Come here.”

Slowly, he got up from the floor and slipped in bed with her. She kept a small distance, a gap between them, to be closed later, if they so decided.

“Remember when I told you about my brother?” she started, and Matt nodded, listening, his whole focus right there, everything beyond the limits of her bed, forgotten and ignored.

.:.

When he woke up, it was morning, the day was happening outside, loud and fast and cold. Karen had her face tucked in his chest, wrapped around her blankets, his arms tight around her, his chin resting at the top of her head.

She had told him a lot about her. About who she was, what had happened to her, what she had done, cried (even when she tried not to) and he had finally surrendered to that urge to press her to him, to hold and protect her from everything, that urge that she always rejected, she didn’t need his protection, but it was there, inside him, nonetheless.

Checking his wristwatch, there was still half an hour to go before she had to take her pills again. He should get up to get her some food, heat up the stupid soup Frank had made, make her eat.

Settling on the decision of five more minutes, he ran a hand on her hair one more time, that certainty inside of him intensifying with every passing second.

He loved all of her.

[networkingdefinition]

Why Men Lie

Official Website: Why Men Lie

For a lot of ladies, depend on is one of the most important part of the relationship. If she can trust him totally and also totally, most of her partnership concerns would not exist. This is why most females will certainly have “honesty” as the very first word that comes to mind after “funny” when they are asked what they are looking for in a person. However the cold hard truth is that men lie. Women do as well, obviously, however men do it even more frequently and for much various factors. If more females recognized why guys existed, it may keep them from getting pain, and also can also help them detect it earlier. As a matter of fact, knowing why guys lie will certainly likewise aid females select the excellent apples from the poor. When females recognize why guys are lying, not just might they really feel much more protected in their partnerships, but possibly, simply possibly, less battles will break out day by day’s end.

_ The-Details-. Men may not constantly be great liars, however they aren’t foolish either. They will certainly exist when they know they can get away with it. — Because-he-has-a-fragile-ego-. After Neil Simon wrote his play Come Impact Your Horn he went to work every day telling his spouse he was functioning on his 2nd play, when he had not been, as well as was also embarrassed to inform her or else. — Because-he-thinks-he’s- helping-. A various phrasing to this factor is “Since he’s trying to avoid a fight.” Get in the old-time inquiry, “Does this gown make me look fat?” as well as you understand this point in an instant. He desperate this set, despite just how he responds to. So he lies. What lots of ladies neglect is that no matter what his answer is; if he is with her, he assumes she’s stunning whether she’s wearing that dress or one of the 5 she tried on before it. For him, bullet evaded. — Because-he-truly-believes-you-might-turn-into-a-psycho-chick-if-he-tells-you-the-truth. Some women prior to you may have colored his perception of the contrary sex. You can’t blame him; his fifty percent has done the very same to you, which is why you describe lots of guys you as soon as dated as stalkers or psychos yourself. You can reduce your possibilities of becoming sufferer to this one by … never ever acting like a psycho chick. When he sees your calmness, trendy mindset every one of the time, he will certainly be extra going to be truthful with you. This lie occurs when he’s with men much more often than when he’s with ladies. “I maintained her up all night” or “I’m going to be making 6 figures any type of day now,” things like that. If women are around, these lies obtain even larger. — Because-he’s- just-not-that-into-you-anymore-. Making use of qualifiers like “also” repeatedly, a greater pitch in his voice or an absence of details are clues that you are falling target to this factor. — Because-he’s- trying-to-get-out-of-something-. This will be a chore around your home, a new task at the office, a new level of commitment with you. One of the leading reasons females exist to males. “No sorry, washing my hair that night.” Sound familiar?

– The-Bottom-Line-.

The lower line is that males lie for self-preservation many of the time. You think his little big whoppers or white lies are factor sufficient to begin a battle, that’s precisely what he’s trying to prevent. Guys aren’t as in touch with their emotive facilities as females, so it’s not as simple for them to just open up as well as provide it to you in actual talk.

If even more ladies knew why males lied, it might maintain them from obtaining pain, as well as can also aid them spot it faster. Understanding why men lie will certainly likewise help females choose out the excellent apples from the negative. When ladies know why guys are lying, not only could they really feel a lot more protected in their relationships, yet maybe, simply maybe, fewer battles will damage out by the day’s end.

If ladies are about, these lies get also bigger. One of the leading factors females lie to males. [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'y', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_y').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_y img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[equitiesstocks]

Why Men Lie

Official Website: Why Men Lie

For a lot of ladies, depend on is one of the most important part of the relationship. If she can trust him totally and also totally, most of her partnership concerns would not exist. This is why most females will certainly have “honesty” as the very first word that comes to mind after “funny” when they are asked what they are looking for in a person. However the cold hard truth is that men lie. Women do as well, obviously, however men do it even more frequently and for much various factors. If more females recognized why guys existed, it may keep them from getting pain, and also can also help them detect it earlier. As a matter of fact, knowing why guys lie will certainly likewise aid females select the excellent apples from the poor. When females recognize why guys are lying, not just might they really feel much more protected in their partnerships, but possibly, simply possibly, less battles will break out day by day’s end.

_ The-Details-. Men may not constantly be great liars, however they aren’t foolish either. They will certainly exist when they know they can get away with it. — Because-he-has-a-fragile-ego-. After Neil Simon wrote his play Come Impact Your Horn he went to work every day telling his spouse he was functioning on his 2nd play, when he had not been, as well as was also embarrassed to inform her or else. — Because-he-thinks-he’s- helping-. A various phrasing to this factor is “Since he’s trying to avoid a fight.” Get in the old-time inquiry, “Does this gown make me look fat?” as well as you understand this point in an instant. He desperate this set, despite just how he responds to. So he lies. What lots of ladies neglect is that no matter what his answer is; if he is with her, he assumes she’s stunning whether she’s wearing that dress or one of the 5 she tried on before it. For him, bullet evaded. — Because-he-truly-believes-you-might-turn-into-a-psycho-chick-if-he-tells-you-the-truth. Some women prior to you may have colored his perception of the contrary sex. You can’t blame him; his fifty percent has done the very same to you, which is why you describe lots of guys you as soon as dated as stalkers or psychos yourself. You can reduce your possibilities of becoming sufferer to this one by … never ever acting like a psycho chick. When he sees your calmness, trendy mindset every one of the time, he will certainly be extra going to be truthful with you. This lie occurs when he’s with men much more often than when he’s with ladies. “I maintained her up all night” or “I’m going to be making 6 figures any type of day now,” things like that. If women are around, these lies obtain even larger. — Because-he’s- just-not-that-into-you-anymore-. Making use of qualifiers like “also” repeatedly, a greater pitch in his voice or an absence of details are clues that you are falling target to this factor. — Because-he’s- trying-to-get-out-of-something-. This will be a chore around your home, a new task at the office, a new level of commitment with you. One of the leading reasons females exist to males. “No sorry, washing my hair that night.” Sound familiar?

– The-Bottom-Line-.

The lower line is that males lie for self-preservation many of the time. You think his little big whoppers or white lies are factor sufficient to begin a battle, that’s precisely what he’s trying to prevent. Guys aren’t as in touch with their emotive facilities as females, so it’s not as simple for them to just open up as well as provide it to you in actual talk.

If even more ladies knew why males lied, it might maintain them from obtaining pain, as well as can also aid them spot it faster. Understanding why men lie will certainly likewise help females choose out the excellent apples from the negative. When ladies know why guys are lying, not only could they really feel a lot more protected in their relationships, yet maybe, simply maybe, fewer battles will damage out by the day’s end.

If ladies are about, these lies get also bigger. One of the leading factors females lie to males. [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'y', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_y').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_y img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[iklees]

Resistance is futile / Jenny T. Colgan

Zes topwiskundigen zijn -- zonder het van elkaar te weten -- uitgenodigd om naar Cambridge te komen. Daar blijken ze te moeten werken aan een geheime opdracht: het ontcijferen van een opvallende en afwijkende datastroom uit het heelal. Een boodschap, misschien? Connie doet een belangrijke ontdekking, niet alleen in de data, maar ook in haar groep collega's; één van hen weet waar de boodschap vandaan komt, en wil liever niet dat die ontcijferd wordt.

"They're on their way to Poland," he said. "Making jokes about being stopped and searched, wondering what the hell for. They don't think there's anything to transport out of England except rain and fish and chips and fat children. Sorry, would Evelyn say that is rude?" "You speak Polish?" "What do you mean?" said Luke. "You understood what they said?" "I don't understand what you're asking me now." "You know there are different languages? That people speak differently?" "Ohhh. Yes. I do know that. I just forgot. So you wouldn't understand him?" Connie shook her head. "Not a word, no. Of course not. Can't you tell he speaks entirely differently from me?" "Everyone speaks differently from you," said Luke puzzled. "Nobody sounds the same." "Seriously?" "Do you think you sound like Ranjit? You don't to me." "But you seriously understand everything everybody says?" "Of course," said Luke. "It's just mouth shapes and noises that apply to subjective worldviews." He looked confused. "You know those very large brains humans haul about everywhere that way down the rest of you?" "Hmm?" "You could probably use them a bit more efficiently."

Soort van science fiction aan de rand van het 'feel good' chicklit genre, hoewel de afloop niet helemaal 'happy ending' is. Het blijkt dat "Jenny T. Colgan" een pseudonym is van Jenny Colgan -- "T" zoals in James T. Kirk, misschien? In elk geval sprak dit boek mij erg aan: achter elkaar doorgelezen.

[engdashboard]

READ MY FACE - DRAWING PORTRAITS WITH TEXT

Source: http://ift.tt/2fJxe5r

DRAWING PORTRAITS WITH TEXT

PUBLISHED SUN, JUL 9, 2017 BY GIORA SIMCHONI

Recently I’ve seen some interesting posts showing how to make ASCII art in R (see here and here). Why limit ourselves to ASCII, I thought. Lincoln’s portrait could be drawn with the Gettysberg Address instead of commas and semicolons. And Trump’s portrait really deserves his tweets1.

Lincoln/Gettysberg

Let’s load Lincoln’s image using the imager package. I’ll resize it because it’s huge, and convert it to grayscale:

library(tidyverse) library(stringr) library(imager) library(abind) img <- load.image("~/lincoln.jpg") %>% resize(700, 500) %>% grayscale() plot(img)

Now let’s get the Gettysberg Address from here using the rvest package:

library(rvest) text <- read_html("http://ift.tt/RykWYq") %>% html_nodes("p") %>% html_text() text

## [1] "\"Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.\" "

Now let’s convert Lincoln’s image into a 500 x 700 (transposed) matrix. It is now in grayscale mode, so there is only a single color channel, with values randing from 0 to 1:

imgGSMat <- img %>% as.matrix() %>% t() dim(imgGSMat)

## [1] 500 700

summary(c(imgGSMat))

## Min. 1st Qu. Median Mean 3rd Qu. Max. ## 0.03137 0.09804 0.60000 0.46649 0.80784 0.99608

Let’s suppose the region we’ll print the text in, is where the pixels value is lower (= darker) than a certain threshold, say 0.5, and let’s plot this region to see it makes sense:

plot(as.cimg(imgGSMat > 0.5))

Don’t worry about the image being rotated, this will work out eventually. For now I just wanted to make sure the “dark” region with our chosen threshold looks OK, and it appears so.

To fill the dark region with the Gettysberg Address let’s split the text into characters. Then, we’ll loop over the entire matrix and text, and when we’re in the “dark” region, we’ll plot the current text character. We’ll use the grid package for plotting.

library(grid) text <- str_split(text, "")[[1]] grid.newpage() counter <- 0 for (i in seq(1, nrow(imgGSMat), 13)) { for (j in seq(1, ncol(imgGSMat), 5)) { if (imgGSMat[i, j] < 0.5) { counter <- ifelse(counter < length(text), counter + 1, 1) grid.text(text[counter], x = j / ncol(imgGSMat), y = 1 - i / nrow(imgGSMat), gp = gpar(fontsize = 10), just = "left") } } }

This is a good start, but a failure nonetheless. A few things to notice:

We’re not really looping through the entire matrix of pixels. Since the font size is currently 10, we’re looping through rows (image height) with the i variable in steps of 13 pixels.

We’re looping through columns (image width) with the j variable in fixed steps of 5 - which is clearly a problem, since there’s a variablity in the characters width.

Once the text is over we start from the beginning.

The grid.text function does not want our i and j as pixels, but as fractions from the image’s height and width respectively.

So the main issue here is the assumption of fixed width for all letters. Let’s change that with distinguishing between “fat” and “skinny” letters (the rest will be “regular”):

fatChars <- c(LETTERS[-which(LETTERS == "I")], "m", "w", "@") skinnyChars <- c("l", "I", "i", "t", "'", "f") grid.newpage() counter <- 0 for (i in seq(1, nrow(imgGSMat), 13)) { for (j in seq(1, ncol(imgGSMat), 10)) { if (imgGSMat[i, j] < 0.5) { counter <- ifelse(counter < length(text), counter + 1, 1) beforeLastChar <- ifelse(counter > 2, lastChar, " ") lastChar <- ifelse(counter > 1, char, " ") char <- text[counter] grid.text(char, x = j/ncol(imgGSMat) + 0.004 * (lastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.003 * (lastChar %in% skinnyChars) + 0.003 * (beforeLastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.002 * (beforeLastChar %in% skinnyChars), y = 1 - i / nrow(imgGSMat), gp = gpar(fontsize = 10), just = "left") } } }

Looks much better although the “algorithm” is somewhat dirty.

Let’s put it in a function anyway, making the threshold, font size and some other parameters configurable:

drawImageWithText <- function(img, text, thresh, fontSize = 10, fileName = "myfile.png", resize = TRUE, saveToDisk = FALSE) { text <- paste(text, collapse = " ") text <- str_replace_all(text, "\n+", " ") text <- str_replace_all(text, " +", " ") text <- str_split(text, "")[[1]] if (resize) img <- resize(img, 700, 500) imgGSMat <- img %>% grayscale %>% as.matrix %>% t() fatChars <- c(LETTERS[-which(LETTERS == "I")], "m", "w", "@") skinnyChars <- c("l", "I", "i", "t", "'", "f") if (saveToDisk) png(fileName, width(img), height(img)) grid.newpage() counter <- 0 for (i in seq(1, nrow(imgGSMat) - fontSize, fontSize + floor(fontSize / 3))) { for (j in seq(1, ncol(imgGSMat) - fontSize, fontSize)) { if (imgGSMat[i, j] < thresh) { counter <- ifelse(counter < length(text), counter + 1, 1) beforeLastChar <- ifelse(counter > 2, lastChar, " ") lastChar <- ifelse(counter > 1, char, " ") char <- text[counter] grid.text(char, x = 0.01 + j/ncol(imgGSMat) + 0.004 * (lastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.003 * (lastChar %in% skinnyChars) + 0.003 * (beforeLastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.002 * (beforeLastChar %in% skinnyChars), y = 1 - i / nrow(imgGSMat) - 0.01, gp = gpar(fontsize = fontSize), just = "left") } } } if (saveToDisk) dev.off() }

Martin Luther King Jr./I Have A Dream

Let’s test our function on Martin Luther King Jr. and his iconic speech taken from here:

img <- load.image("~/mlkj.jpg") text <- read_lines("~/ihaveadream.txt") drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh = 0.3, fontSize = 5)

Free, at last.

Marylin Monroe/Her Wikipedia Article

img <- load.image("~/marylin.jpg") text <- read_html("http://ift.tt/OBYUG0") %>% html_nodes("p") %>% html_text() %>% str_replace_all(., "\\[[0-9]+\\]", "") drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh = 0.5, fontSize = 8)

Adele/Rolling In The Deep

img <- load.image("~/adele.jpg") text <- read_lines("~/rollinginthedeep.txt") drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh = 0.5, fontSize = 10)

Hadley Wickham/The dplyr code

img <- load.image("~/hadley.jpg") text <- read_html("http://ift.tt/2hqEe7q") %>% html_nodes("div") %>% .[[47]] %>% html_text() drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh = 0.75, fontSize = 5)

This example with Hadley is a bit different, because here the original image isn’t black and white. It has colors, and we could use some color, so let’s change the function a bit:

drawImageWithText <- function(img, text, thresh, color = FALSE, fontSize = 10, fileName = "myfile.png", resize = TRUE, saveToDisk = FALSE) { if (color) { if (spectrum(img) == 1) { warning("Image is in grayscale mode, setting color to FALSE.") color = FALSE } } text <- paste(text, collapse = " ") text <- str_replace_all(text, "\n+", " ") text <- str_replace_all(text, " +", " ") text <- str_split(text, "")[[1]] if (resize) img <- resize(img, 700, 500) imgMat <- img %>% as.array() %>% adrop(3) %>% aperm(c(2, 1, 3)) imgGSMat <- img %>% grayscale %>% as.matrix %>% t() fatChars <- c(LETTERS[-which(LETTERS == "I")], "m", "w", "@") skinnyChars <- c("l", "I", "i", "t", "'", "f") if (saveToDisk) png(fileName, width(img), height(img)) grid.newpage() counter <- 0 for (i in seq(1, nrow(imgGSMat) - fontSize, fontSize + 1)) { for (j in seq(1, ncol(imgGSMat) - fontSize, fontSize)) { if (imgGSMat[i, j] < thresh) { counter <- ifelse(counter < length(text), counter + 1, 1) beforeLastChar <- ifelse(counter > 2, lastChar, " ") lastChar <- ifelse(counter > 1, char, " ") char <- text[counter] grid.text(char, x = 0.01 + j/ncol(imgGSMat) + 0.004 * (lastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.003 * (lastChar %in% skinnyChars) + 0.003 * (beforeLastChar %in% fatChars) - 0.002 * (beforeLastChar %in% skinnyChars), y = 1 - i / nrow(imgGSMat) - 0.01, gp = gpar(fontsize = fontSize, col = ifelse(!color, "black", rgb(imgMat[i, j, 1], imgMat[i, j, 2], imgMat[i, j, 3]))), just = "left") } } } if (saveToDisk) suppressMessages(dev.off()) } drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh = 0.9, color = TRUE, fontSize = 5)

Nice! Sorry, Hadley.

Trump/His Tweets

Let’s write a wrapper around our drawImageWithText function that will automatically download a Twitter user’s image and tweets - and use those as img and text. We’ll use the wonderful rtweet package for this:

library(rtweet) drawImageWithTextFromTwitter <- function(username, thresh, ...) { text <- get_timeline(username, n = 200) %>% select(text) %>% unlist() %>% discard(str_detect(., "^RT")) %>% str_replace(., "(http|https)[^([:blank:]|\"|<|&|#\n\r)]+", "") %>% str_extract_all(., "[a-zA-Z0-9[:punct:]]+") %>% unlist %>% paste(., collapse = " ") img <- load.image(lookup_users(username)$profile_image_url) drawImageWithText(img, text, thresh, ...) }

Let’s do Trump:

drawImageWithTextFromTwitter("realDonaldTrump", 0.55, fontSize = 8)

Tyra Banks/Her Tweets

drawImageWithTextFromTwitter("tyrabanks", 0.9, color = TRUE, fontSize = 5)

Congratulations. You’re still in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Model.

That’s It

Next step is, obviously, making T-shirts. Enjoy!

via Blogger http://ift.tt/2hntD0o

[amyvdh-blog]

Impact Wrench Tools

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[networkingdefinition]

Cinnamon Quotes

Official Website: Cinnamon Quotes

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push();

• A person of good intelligence and of sensitivity cannot exist in this society very long without having some anger about the inequality – and it’s not just a bleeding-heart, knee-jerk, liberal kind of a thing – it is just a normal human reaction to a nonsensical set of values where we have cinnamon flavored dental floss and there are people sleeping in the street. – George Carlin • Agent Jones switched to the big screen and a grainy video of MoMo sitting at his enormous desk, a swivel-hipped Elvis clock ticking behind his bewigged head. ‘Death to the capitalist pigs! Death to your cinnamon bun-smelling malls! Death to your power walking and automatic car windows and I’m With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic of ChaCha will never bend to your side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that corruption! MoMo B. ChaCha defies you and all you stand for, and one day, you will crumble into the sea and we will pick up the pieces and make them into sand art. – Libba Bray • Almond milk + cinnamon crunch = major key to success. – DJ Khaled • And Mocha’s berry, from Arabia pure, In small fine china cups, came in at last. Gold cups of filigree, made to secure the hand from burning, underneath them place. Cloves, cinnamon and saffron, too, were boiled Up with the coffee, which, I think, they spoiled. – Lord Byron • Anyone who gives you a cinnamon roll fresh out of the oven is a friend for life. – Daniel Handler • As a rule, I do not approve of messing around with coffee. No sugar, no milk, no chocolate, hazelnuts, cinnamon, no nothing…. Just drink it black, the way God does – Klay Thompson

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Cinnamon', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_cinnamon').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_cinnamon img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Cinnamon bites and kisses simultaneously. – Vanna Bonta • C’mon, Amy, cinnamon rolls are calling us.” Dan put a hand to his ear. “Do you hear? ‘Amy? Dan?'” he squeaked. “‘Come and get my sugary, sticky goodness! – Judy Blundell • Cotton balls is an example of something I would buy, but not want to have as a nickname. Cinnamon buns, on the other hand, is something I would buy and want to have as a nickname. ‘Are you Cinnamon Buns?’ ‘You bet your sweet ass I am.’ – Demetri Martin • Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. – George R. R. Martin • For something warm, try adding cinnamon sticks and nutmeg to apple cider simmering on the stove. You’ll get the added benefit of making your home smell amazing. – Clinton Kelly • Have you tried the cinnamon things?” Poppet asks. “They’re rather new. What are they called, Widge?” “Fantastically delicious cinnamon things? – Erin Morgenstern • Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her. – Kim Harrison • His smell—the scent of a demon, cinnamon incense, amber musk—wrapped around me, filled my lungs. I felt like I could breathe again, without every breath being tainted by the stench of dying cells. The smell of him seemed to coat my abused insides with peace, and flow down into the middle of my body to spread through my veins. I filled my lungs again. While I could, before what was undoubtedly a hallucination vanished. – Lilith Saintcrow • I actually put peanut butter on my bagel. I really like peanut butter and I like to ruin the bagel. You know what’s even crazier that I do sometimes? I do cinnamon raisin bagels with peanut butter. It is really, really out there. – Evan Peters • I always go to the lowest common denominator for that ingredient. So if I think squash, I try to think what it means to me — and if it doesn’t mean anything to me, I’m not gonna do well when I cook it. So [squash] means to me: fall, maple syrup, cinnamon, and things just come into your head so you can narrow the vortex and make it a bit smaller and you go with something because there’s no time. – Geoffrey Zakarian • I always make my favorite pancakes with milk, and I also add some fruit – like a banana or apple with some cinnamon sprinkled on top. I also sometimes put peanut butter on my pancakes! – Gabriela Isler • I can’t tell you enough about cinnamon. Cinnamon is an awesome spice to use and it goes great with something like apples in the morning or in a mixture of fruit or in your oatmeal or even in your cereal. – Emeril Lagasse • I don’t know if I’ll find the cinnamon girl. I think I already did, but I’m still singing, who knows. – Neil Young • I eat a huge breakfast every morning – it’s what I look forward to. I’ll do steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries and strawberries, an egg white scramble with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion, and a piece of cinnamon Ezekiel bread with almond butter. I could do that every single day. – Heather Mitts • I like cinnamon rolls, but I don’t always have time to make a pan. That’s why I wish they would sell cinnamon roll incense. After all I’d rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes. – Mitch Hedberg • I love Christmas! I’m not religious, but I love the trappings of the season. I love the decorations, and the music, and Santa, and the festive food, and the cinnamon- and vanilla-infused aromas. – Jane Cleland • I love the scents of winter! For me, it’s all about the feeling you get when you smell pumpkin spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, gingerbread and spruce. – Taylor Swift • I realize that it’s like spices in the kitchen. I need that turmeric. I’m sorry, but cinnamon isn’t going to substitute . I feel that I can teach my listener about a new word they can use too. “Well, what words are part of my own community, even if I’m monolingual, that I’m not allowing myself to use in a public sphere?” – Sandra Cisneros • I really don’t think I need buns of steel. I’d be happy with buns of cinnamon. – Ellen DeGeneres • I was just taking out my trash and I had, like, 300 cans of Diet Coke. It was just like, ‘How did that happen?’ I don’t even remember buying them. I also like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. My addictions are pretty much the only things I consume. – Robert Pattinson • I wasn’t eating the right kinds of calories. I didn’t know about healthy carbs such as brown rice and lentils. Now I eat small meals throughout the day: oatmeal with cinnamon to start, fruit and yogurt as a snack, and vegetables or with chicken or tuna, and a healthy carb, like a yam, for lunch. – Alison Sweeney • I’d like to wear my old [cinnamon buns] hairstyle again – but with white hair. I think that would be funny. – Carrie Fisher • I’m getting fat … as I planned. Luckily, my gut is intentional. I’m actually preparing for a big role. Sure, it’s a cinnamon roll. – Jim Gaffigan • In football you need to have everything in your cake mix to make the cake taste right. One little bit of ingredient that Tony uses in his cake that gets talked about all the time is Rory’s throw. Call that cinnamon and he’s got a cinnamon flavoured cake. – Ian Holloway • In November, the smell of food is different. It is an orange smell. A squash and pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, can pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year. – Cynthia Rylant • Instead of doing cinnamon, nutmeg, and all those baking spices I’ll have one spice that’s for sweets, and that’s pumpkin pie spice. – Sandra Lee • It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. – Sarah Addison Allen • I’ve been juicing lately, making different smoothies and such. It was interesting, and tough at first, but it’s been doing wonders for me. I’ve been leaning in up, shedding fat, burning fat and I’m feeling good, feeling clean. My favorite so far is some almond milk with a little cinnamon there. It’s good. I have that as a little night cap at the end of the day. – Brandon Spikes • My mother was good at reading books, making cinnamon biscuits, and coloring in a coloring book. Also she was a good eater of popcorn and knitter of sweaters with my initials right in them. She could sit really still. She knew how to believe in God and sing really loudly. When she sneezed our whole house rocked. My father was a great smoker and driver of vehicles..He could hold a full coffee cup while driving and never spill a drop, even going over bumps. He lost his temper faster than anyone. – Haven Kimmel • Oils of cinnamon and eucalyptus are as powerful against some microorganisms as conventional antibiotics, and are especially effective against flus. Sandalwood oil from Mysore, India, is not only a classic perfume oil but is also a traditional remedy for sore throats and laryngitis. Lavender oil, so often used in toilet waters and scented sachets, has a dramatic healing action on burns. – Robert Tisserand • Promises are lies wrapped in pretty ribbons -Cinnamon – Virginia C. Andrews • She serves me a piece of it a few minutes out of the oven. A little steam rises from the slits on top. Sugar and spice – cinnamon – burned into the crust. But she’s wearing these dark glasses in the kitchen at ten o’clock in the morning – everything nice – as she watches me break off a piece, bring it to my mouth, and blow on it. My daughter’s kitchen, in winter. I fork the pie in and tell myself to stay out of it. She says she loves him. No way could it be worse. – Raymond Carver • Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries. – Terry Pratchett • Ten silver saxes, a bass with a bow The drummer relaxes and waits between shows For his cinnamon girl. – Neil Young • The jelly – the jam and the marmalade, And the cherry-and quince-‘preserves’ she made! And the sweet-sour pickles of peach and pear, With cinnamon in ’em, and all things rare! And the more we ate was the more to spare, Out to old Aunt Mary’s! Ah! – James Whitcomb Riley • The only fruit which even much living yields seems to be often only some trivial success,–the ability to do some slight thing better. We make conquest only of husks and shells for the most part,–at least apparently,–but sometimes these are cinnamon and spices, you know. – Henry David Thoreau • The secret of food lies in memory – of thinking and then knowing what the taste of cinnamon or steak is. – Jerry Saltz • There’s no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I’m not falling into any vision. It’s his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more. – Libba Bray • They take unbelievable pleasure in the hideous blast of the hunting horn and baying of the hounds. Dogs dung smells sweet as cinnamon to them. – Desiderius Erasmus • They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory. – Liane Moriarty • This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn’t startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon– brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell? – Shannon Hale • Tigers love pepper…they hate cinnamon. – Zach Galifianakis • Use what you have, use what the world gives you. Use the first day of fall: bright flame before winter’s deadness; harvest; orange, gold, amber; cool nights and the smell of fire. Our tree-lined streets are set ablaze, our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world’s oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter. – Shauna Niequist • We have fried catfish, country fried steak and cinnamon-roasted pork. We have collard greens, black-eyed peas, hush puppies, biscuits, sweet potato pie and lots of gravy. Most players love it, but we also have a baked catfish for players who are still looking to stay on the approved diet. – Mark Farner • What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds. – Jack Gilbert • When a kid says “smell my hand,” it almost never smells like cinnamon. – Brian P. Cleary • You know, you still owe me pancakes. I think I could go for…apple cinnamon ones now. “ “Apple cinnamon? You sure are demanding.” “It’s all right. I think you’re man enough for it.” “Thetis, if I actually believed you had either apples or cinnamon in your kitchen, I’d make them for you right now.” I didn’t answer. I was pretty sure I had some year-old Apple Jacks, but that was about it. – Richelle Mead • You liked me.” I smiled. “You were smitten with me. You were speechless to behold my beauty. You had never met anyone so fascinating. You thought of me every waking minute. You dreamed about me. You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t let such wonderfulness out of your sight. You had to follow me.” I turned to Cinnamon. He licked my nose. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. It was your rat I was after.” She laughed, and the desert sang. – Jerry Spinelli

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

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[equitiesstocks]

Cinnamon Quotes

Official Website: Cinnamon Quotes

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• A person of good intelligence and of sensitivity cannot exist in this society very long without having some anger about the inequality – and it’s not just a bleeding-heart, knee-jerk, liberal kind of a thing – it is just a normal human reaction to a nonsensical set of values where we have cinnamon flavored dental floss and there are people sleeping in the street. – George Carlin • Agent Jones switched to the big screen and a grainy video of MoMo sitting at his enormous desk, a swivel-hipped Elvis clock ticking behind his bewigged head. ‘Death to the capitalist pigs! Death to your cinnamon bun-smelling malls! Death to your power walking and automatic car windows and I’m With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic of ChaCha will never bend to your side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that corruption! MoMo B. ChaCha defies you and all you stand for, and one day, you will crumble into the sea and we will pick up the pieces and make them into sand art. – Libba Bray • Almond milk + cinnamon crunch = major key to success. – DJ Khaled • And Mocha’s berry, from Arabia pure, In small fine china cups, came in at last. Gold cups of filigree, made to secure the hand from burning, underneath them place. Cloves, cinnamon and saffron, too, were boiled Up with the coffee, which, I think, they spoiled. – Lord Byron • Anyone who gives you a cinnamon roll fresh out of the oven is a friend for life. – Daniel Handler • As a rule, I do not approve of messing around with coffee. No sugar, no milk, no chocolate, hazelnuts, cinnamon, no nothing…. Just drink it black, the way God does – Klay Thompson

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Cinnamon', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_cinnamon').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_cinnamon img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Cinnamon bites and kisses simultaneously. – Vanna Bonta • C’mon, Amy, cinnamon rolls are calling us.” Dan put a hand to his ear. “Do you hear? ‘Amy? Dan?'” he squeaked. “‘Come and get my sugary, sticky goodness! – Judy Blundell • Cotton balls is an example of something I would buy, but not want to have as a nickname. Cinnamon buns, on the other hand, is something I would buy and want to have as a nickname. ‘Are you Cinnamon Buns?’ ‘You bet your sweet ass I am.’ – Demetri Martin • Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. – George R. R. Martin • For something warm, try adding cinnamon sticks and nutmeg to apple cider simmering on the stove. You’ll get the added benefit of making your home smell amazing. – Clinton Kelly • Have you tried the cinnamon things?” Poppet asks. “They’re rather new. What are they called, Widge?” “Fantastically delicious cinnamon things? – Erin Morgenstern • Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her. – Kim Harrison • His smell—the scent of a demon, cinnamon incense, amber musk—wrapped around me, filled my lungs. I felt like I could breathe again, without every breath being tainted by the stench of dying cells. The smell of him seemed to coat my abused insides with peace, and flow down into the middle of my body to spread through my veins. I filled my lungs again. While I could, before what was undoubtedly a hallucination vanished. – Lilith Saintcrow • I actually put peanut butter on my bagel. I really like peanut butter and I like to ruin the bagel. You know what’s even crazier that I do sometimes? I do cinnamon raisin bagels with peanut butter. It is really, really out there. – Evan Peters • I always go to the lowest common denominator for that ingredient. So if I think squash, I try to think what it means to me — and if it doesn’t mean anything to me, I’m not gonna do well when I cook it. So [squash] means to me: fall, maple syrup, cinnamon, and things just come into your head so you can narrow the vortex and make it a bit smaller and you go with something because there’s no time. – Geoffrey Zakarian • I always make my favorite pancakes with milk, and I also add some fruit – like a banana or apple with some cinnamon sprinkled on top. I also sometimes put peanut butter on my pancakes! – Gabriela Isler • I can’t tell you enough about cinnamon. Cinnamon is an awesome spice to use and it goes great with something like apples in the morning or in a mixture of fruit or in your oatmeal or even in your cereal. – Emeril Lagasse • I don’t know if I’ll find the cinnamon girl. I think I already did, but I’m still singing, who knows. – Neil Young • I eat a huge breakfast every morning – it’s what I look forward to. I’ll do steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries and strawberries, an egg white scramble with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion, and a piece of cinnamon Ezekiel bread with almond butter. I could do that every single day. – Heather Mitts • I like cinnamon rolls, but I don’t always have time to make a pan. That’s why I wish they would sell cinnamon roll incense. After all I’d rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes. – Mitch Hedberg • I love Christmas! I’m not religious, but I love the trappings of the season. I love the decorations, and the music, and Santa, and the festive food, and the cinnamon- and vanilla-infused aromas. – Jane Cleland • I love the scents of winter! For me, it’s all about the feeling you get when you smell pumpkin spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, gingerbread and spruce. – Taylor Swift • I realize that it’s like spices in the kitchen. I need that turmeric. I’m sorry, but cinnamon isn’t going to substitute . I feel that I can teach my listener about a new word they can use too. “Well, what words are part of my own community, even if I’m monolingual, that I’m not allowing myself to use in a public sphere?” – Sandra Cisneros • I really don’t think I need buns of steel. I’d be happy with buns of cinnamon. – Ellen DeGeneres • I was just taking out my trash and I had, like, 300 cans of Diet Coke. It was just like, ‘How did that happen?’ I don’t even remember buying them. I also like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. My addictions are pretty much the only things I consume. – Robert Pattinson • I wasn’t eating the right kinds of calories. I didn’t know about healthy carbs such as brown rice and lentils. Now I eat small meals throughout the day: oatmeal with cinnamon to start, fruit and yogurt as a snack, and vegetables or with chicken or tuna, and a healthy carb, like a yam, for lunch. – Alison Sweeney • I’d like to wear my old [cinnamon buns] hairstyle again – but with white hair. I think that would be funny. – Carrie Fisher • I’m getting fat … as I planned. Luckily, my gut is intentional. I’m actually preparing for a big role. Sure, it’s a cinnamon roll. – Jim Gaffigan • In football you need to have everything in your cake mix to make the cake taste right. One little bit of ingredient that Tony uses in his cake that gets talked about all the time is Rory’s throw. Call that cinnamon and he’s got a cinnamon flavoured cake. – Ian Holloway • In November, the smell of food is different. It is an orange smell. A squash and pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, can pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year. – Cynthia Rylant • Instead of doing cinnamon, nutmeg, and all those baking spices I’ll have one spice that’s for sweets, and that’s pumpkin pie spice. – Sandra Lee • It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. – Sarah Addison Allen • I’ve been juicing lately, making different smoothies and such. It was interesting, and tough at first, but it’s been doing wonders for me. I’ve been leaning in up, shedding fat, burning fat and I’m feeling good, feeling clean. My favorite so far is some almond milk with a little cinnamon there. It’s good. I have that as a little night cap at the end of the day. – Brandon Spikes • My mother was good at reading books, making cinnamon biscuits, and coloring in a coloring book. Also she was a good eater of popcorn and knitter of sweaters with my initials right in them. She could sit really still. She knew how to believe in God and sing really loudly. When she sneezed our whole house rocked. My father was a great smoker and driver of vehicles..He could hold a full coffee cup while driving and never spill a drop, even going over bumps. He lost his temper faster than anyone. – Haven Kimmel • Oils of cinnamon and eucalyptus are as powerful against some microorganisms as conventional antibiotics, and are especially effective against flus. Sandalwood oil from Mysore, India, is not only a classic perfume oil but is also a traditional remedy for sore throats and laryngitis. Lavender oil, so often used in toilet waters and scented sachets, has a dramatic healing action on burns. – Robert Tisserand • Promises are lies wrapped in pretty ribbons -Cinnamon – Virginia C. Andrews • She serves me a piece of it a few minutes out of the oven. A little steam rises from the slits on top. Sugar and spice – cinnamon – burned into the crust. But she’s wearing these dark glasses in the kitchen at ten o’clock in the morning – everything nice – as she watches me break off a piece, bring it to my mouth, and blow on it. My daughter’s kitchen, in winter. I fork the pie in and tell myself to stay out of it. She says she loves him. No way could it be worse. – Raymond Carver • Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries. – Terry Pratchett • Ten silver saxes, a bass with a bow The drummer relaxes and waits between shows For his cinnamon girl. – Neil Young • The jelly – the jam and the marmalade, And the cherry-and quince-‘preserves’ she made! And the sweet-sour pickles of peach and pear, With cinnamon in ’em, and all things rare! And the more we ate was the more to spare, Out to old Aunt Mary’s! Ah! – James Whitcomb Riley • The only fruit which even much living yields seems to be often only some trivial success,–the ability to do some slight thing better. We make conquest only of husks and shells for the most part,–at least apparently,–but sometimes these are cinnamon and spices, you know. – Henry David Thoreau • The secret of food lies in memory – of thinking and then knowing what the taste of cinnamon or steak is. – Jerry Saltz • There’s no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I’m not falling into any vision. It’s his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more. – Libba Bray • They take unbelievable pleasure in the hideous blast of the hunting horn and baying of the hounds. Dogs dung smells sweet as cinnamon to them. – Desiderius Erasmus • They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory. – Liane Moriarty • This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn’t startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon– brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell? – Shannon Hale • Tigers love pepper…they hate cinnamon. – Zach Galifianakis • Use what you have, use what the world gives you. Use the first day of fall: bright flame before winter’s deadness; harvest; orange, gold, amber; cool nights and the smell of fire. Our tree-lined streets are set ablaze, our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world’s oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter. – Shauna Niequist • We have fried catfish, country fried steak and cinnamon-roasted pork. We have collard greens, black-eyed peas, hush puppies, biscuits, sweet potato pie and lots of gravy. Most players love it, but we also have a baked catfish for players who are still looking to stay on the approved diet. – Mark Farner • What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds. – Jack Gilbert • When a kid says “smell my hand,” it almost never smells like cinnamon. – Brian P. Cleary • You know, you still owe me pancakes. I think I could go for…apple cinnamon ones now. “ “Apple cinnamon? You sure are demanding.” “It’s all right. I think you’re man enough for it.” “Thetis, if I actually believed you had either apples or cinnamon in your kitchen, I’d make them for you right now.” I didn’t answer. I was pretty sure I had some year-old Apple Jacks, but that was about it. – Richelle Mead • You liked me.” I smiled. “You were smitten with me. You were speechless to behold my beauty. You had never met anyone so fascinating. You thought of me every waking minute. You dreamed about me. You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t let such wonderfulness out of your sight. You had to follow me.” I turned to Cinnamon. He licked my nose. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. It was your rat I was after.” She laughed, and the desert sang. – Jerry Spinelli

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

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[networkingdefinition]

Jasmine Quotes

Official Website: Jasmine Quotes

  • A summer rain had left the night clean and sparkling with drops of water. I leaned against the end pillar of the gallery, my head touching the soft tendrils of a jasmine which grew there in a constant battle with a wisteria, and I thought of what lay before me throughout the world and throughout time, and resolved to go about it delicately and reverently, learning that from each thing which would take me best to another. – Anne Rice

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Jasmine', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_jasmine').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_jasmine img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Cultivate night-blooming jasmine near your bedroom window, and dream of men you’ve always longed for. – Gwen Davis • Do not sit long with a sad friend. When you go to a garden do you look at the weeds? Spend more time with the roses and jasmines. – Rumi • From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about. – Thomas Moore • I always have SK-II face masks in the fridge – they are excellent especially if you’ve been on a plane and your skin is puffy. I also love Rodin face oil with jasmine – it’s delicious and gives you a real glow. I always use Chanel eye cream. I go to have my eyebrows waxed and lashes tinted, and then I always curl my eyelashes. – Cat Deeley

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • I didn’t mean to interupt you if you were looking for your friends Miss–‘ ‘Callihan,’ but you can call my Jasmine. Or Jas.’ Or Snookums. Honeybunch. Hotsie Totsie Cowgirl. My Little– ‘It’s nice to meet you Jasmine, I’m Jack. – Michele Jaffe • I do not feel like writing verses; but as I light my perfume burner with myrrh and jasmine incense, they suddenly burgeon from my heart, like flowers in a garden. – Hafez • I don’t know what’s happened to me. I’ve got a bit more sophisticated in my old age. I like a bit of jasmine tea. I love it. – Danny Dyer • I kept my arms around Joi and my face buried deep in her hair while I waited for Peter Pan to slip through the window. I thought I needed him to tell me what I should do. But he never showed up. He left me alone with a girl who smelled of jasmine and cocoa butter. And before I fell asleep, I finally realized that was more than enough. – Kirsten Miller • I love perfumes. Every morning when my girlfriend and I come down to the courtyard in our block of flats we’re assailed by the most delicious scent – jasmine round a doorway. It almost makes me swoon. – Alan Rickman • If there were as great a scarcity of soil as of jewels or precious metals, there would not be a prince who would not spend a bushel of diamonds and rubies and a cartload of gold just to have enough earth to plant a jasmine in a little pot, or to sow an orange seed and watch it sprout, grow, and produce its handsome leaves, its fragrant flowers, and fine fruit. – Galileo Galilei • I’m just being practial. I knew someday I might have to bare my throat to you. Pete and I discussed that very possibility. As for the danger and risk taking, that’s what Pete pays me to do. And you and I both know he inteneds to get his money’s worth.” Jasmine, I cannot-” Why not!” Because you are not food!” I stared at him for a minute; the I started to grin. I couldn’t help it. Vayl”-I tried to keep my face straight- “I’m not asking you to eat me. – Jennifer Rardin • I’m thankful for a pair of shoes that feel really good on my feet; I like my shoes. I’m thankful for the birds; I feel like they’re singing just for me when I get up in the morning… Saying, ‘Good morning, John. You made it, John.’ I’m thankful for the sea breeze that feels so good right now, and the scent of jasmine when the sun starts going down. I’m thankful. – Johnny Cash • I’m thankful for the sea breeze that feels so good right now, and the scent of jasmine when the sun starts going down. – Johnny Cash • In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air, I knew I was home. It was rich, almost sweet, like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard. I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume. – Anne Rice • Jasmine apologized and said she was sorry and said she loved me, she couldn’t believe it and said she thought it would be her. All of them were really, really sorry that it happened to me. – LaToya London • Jasmine is just the most delicate and beautiful scent. – Natalie Portman • Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves. – Thomas Hood • Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. “That little toothpick won’t save you, Gypsy.” “Touthpick?” Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now! – Jennifer Estep • Listen,” F. Jasmine said. “What I’ve been trying to say is this. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that I am I, and you are you? I am F. Jasmine Addams. And you are Berenice Sadie Brown. And we can look at each other, and touch each other, and stay together year in and year out in the same room. Yet always I am I, and you are you. And I can’t ever be anything else but me, and you can ever be anything else but you. Have you ever thought of that? And does it seem to you strange? – Carson McCullers • Long strands of drool stretched from between his fangs and dripped on the pavement, sending a heady scent of jasmine to swirl through the air. Perfumed monster spit. What was the world coming to? – Ilona Andrews

• Mexico admits you through an arched stone orifice into the tree-filled courtyard of its heart, where a dog pisses against a wall and a waiter hustles through a curtain of jasmine to bring a bowl of tortilla soup, steaming with cilantro and lime. Cats stalk lizards among the clay pots around the fountain, doves settle into the flowering vines and coo their prayers, thankful for the existence of lizards. The potted plants silently exhale, outgrowing their clay pots. Like Mexico’s children they stand pinched and patient in last year’s too-small shoes. – Barbara Kingsolver • Not bombs nor my broken heart can take away from me walking barefoot with you in jasmine June through the Field of Mars. – Paullina Simons • Now hoppin’-john was F. Jasmine’s very favorite food. She had always warned them to wave a plate of rice and peas before her nose when she was in her coffin, to make certain there was no mistake; for if a breath of life was left in her, she would sit up and eat, but if she smelled the hopping-john, and did not stir, then they could just nail down the coffin and be certain she was truly dead. – Carson McCullers • Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns Its fragrant lamps, and turns Into a royal court with green festoons The banks of dark lagoons. – Henry Timrod • Roses by the head, jasmine at the feet so appear the longings that have passed without being satisfied, not one of them granted a night of sensual pleasure, or one of its radiant mornings. – C.P. Cavafy • Sandalwood, tagara, lotus, jasmine – the fragrance of virtue is unrivalled by such kinds of perfume. – Gautama Buddha • Somebody comes to your house. You know they’re coming, so it’s not a surprise. And they give you an envelope that has your scenes in it. And they sit in the car outside for a half an hour while you read your scenes, then they ring your doorbell and you give your scenes back. Then you shoot the movie a few weeks later or something. The next time you see your scenes is the night before you start shooting. I never read the script [Blue Jasmine], so I didn’t really know what it was about. – Alden Ehrenreich • The secret weapon is cucumber.’ Solange sat all the way up. ‘Jasmine, cover your ears.’ MaryAnn, Juliette and Jasmine burst out laughing. ‘Sheesh, Solange. Get your mind out of the gutter.’ ‘MY mind is just fine, thank you. It’s MaryAnn’s I’m concerned about.’ ‘You put them on your eyes,’ MaryAnn said, laughing even harder. – Christine Feehan • The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath. – Janet Fitch • The surrealist thinks he has outstripped the whole of literary history when he has written (here a word that there is no need to write) where others have written “jasmines, swans and fauns.” But what he has really done has been simply to bring to light another form of rhetoric which hitherto lay hidden in the latrines. – Jose Ortega y Gasset • The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine. “In return for the odor of my jasmine, I’d like all the odor of your roses.” “I have no roses; all the flowers in my garden are dead.” “Well then, I’ll take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.” the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself: “What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you? – Antonio Machado • This dress makes me look fat,” I told Jasmine as we stood near the back of the crowd and watched the last minute preperations fall into place. She glanced over at me and my efforts to rearrange the folds of my long, gauzy dress. “Your pregnant,” she stated. “Everything’s supposed to make you look fat.” I Scowled. “I think the correct reponse was ‘No it doesn’t. – Richelle Mead • To really love Joan Didion—to have been blown over by things like the smell of jasmine and the packing list she kept by her suitcase—you have to be female. – Caitlin Flanagan • True love is night jasmine, a diamond in darkness, the heartbeat no cardiologist has ever heard. It is the most common of miracles, fashioned of fleecy clouds – a handful of stars tossed into the night sky. – Jim Bishop • We spent the first night of our honeymoon in a country hotel, with Tudor architecture oak beams, and floors which sloped, of the Queen-Elizabeth-Slept-Here variety. There were old tennis-courts – the Tudor kind where Henry VIII was said to have played; and gardens filled with winter heather, jasmine and yellow chrysanthemums. […] So that first night together was spent in the ancient bedroom with the tiny leaded paned windows, through which shafts of moonlight touched the room with a dreamlike radiance […] – Jean Plaidy • We went to the door and I let Asha in. I expected an uberawkward moment when he and Vayl met. But Asha took care of that problem right away. “So you belong to Jasmine,” he said in his melancholy voice. It somehow delivered Vayl his deepest condolences without bearing a trace of malice toward me. – Jennifer Rardin • We’ll meet again in Lvov, my love and I…” Tatiana hums, eating her ice cream, in our Leningrad, in jasmine June, near Fontanka, the Neva, the Summer Garden, where we are forever young. – Paullina Simons • Whether I’m making a recipe or a piece of jewelry or a white-rose-and-jasmine tea or the perfume, I like to think of myself as a happy little sorceress, and if I could just have a little general store with all that stuff and give people a sense of my taste, that would be lovely. – Padma Lakshmi

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