this could be like the future

“The Temple could probably use some… modern improvements, I suppose…”

Peridot and Pearl would probably work well together on a project like this. I hope in the future, they become friends - or at least begin to respect each other.

I’m once again experimenting with line art styles. This style retains the look of my pencil work more but isn’t nearly as bold. MORE TESTING IS REQUIRED.
Also, backgrounds! This BG turned out quite well, and I’m more then ready to do more in this style.

Today I sat alone in a coffee shop, reading my book and sipping a cappuccino and it suddenly dawned on me
I was content with my life, I didn’t feel the weight of my burdens crushing my soul
or that my lungs could collapse at any moment giving up on trying to push oxygen through my body
Maybe it was only for today, or just that moment
Maybe it was because of the way the sun reflected on the glass, or the song that I happened to be listening to
But for that moment I felt like I could get through it all, the heartbreak, the loss, the past, the present, the future
and that I would be okay
—  Four: Carol Shlyakhova(strong-but-breakable)

renegadecupcake asked:

I imagine a Hylian wedding to be a very formal affair during the ceremony but then quite cheerfully celebrated with a feast afterwards. And if course, Gerudo weddings barely exist but they're probably very informal through and through.

Oh yeah, I totally agree with that line of thought. Maybe the Hylian wedding would have more rituals and be more formal. At the same time less personal.

And Ganondorf is going to be so incredibly impatient about it. XD

I could see him just finishing up the vows, super rushing through it, and thinking, “OK THEN. FINALLY. NOW WE GET TO THE SEX PART.” And Zelda starts going through every archaic time-consuming tradition she can think of to stall.

Like she’s, gettin to the end of the list, and starts initiating stranger and stranger traditions, “It’s time for the traditional ribbon winding ceremony, where we wind 1000 ribbons around this pole to insure good luck with future childbirth!”

Ganondorf is all like, “ …you’ve gotta be f**king kidding me….”

eurogamer.net
Survey leaks "last adventure" Dragon Age: Inquisition story DLC
A survey has leaked ideas for a new $14.99 story-based Dragon Age: Inquisition downloadable content add-on. BioWare said earlier this month that "we're not…

I love that the image this links is Fen’Harel. Of course, it could be going even deeper, like looking for perhaps an old Archon or other figures.



“Having saved the world of Thedas by closing the Breach, your next mission will determine the future of the Inquisition. Your mark suddenly glows, erupting with magic connected to the Fade. Assassins attack in shadow. An invasion of enemies begins. Win a race against time to face a great evil before it is too late. In this story-based expansion, playable after the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, you will embark on a last adventure with your team to confront the one who started it all.”

Until the Very End (7/7)

Summary: Seven snapshots from Dan and Phil’s time at Hogwarts, one year at a time.

Genre: Hogwarts AU/Fluff/Angst

Rating: PG-13 for mentions of death, mild violence, and swearing

Word Count: 3008

A/N: it’s finally done, holy crap. thanks, of course, to my bae-ta constipatedhowell​ for putting up with seven chapter of this shit and telling me to shut up when i complain about my awful writing. and thanks to every single person who has liked/reblogged/read any of these chapters - this was the very first phan fic i ever published and the response i got was overwhelming. please please please let me know what you thought of this; give me advice, feedback, whatever you want. i’d love to write more harry potter au in the future, and it’d be great to hear how i could make it better.

more author’s notes at the bottom bc spoilers ~

Chapter Description/Excerpt:

(Year Seven)

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan spots a Death Eater turn towards them, raising his wand towards Phil’s back.

Dan blanches. “Duck!”

Keep reading

If you live in the Raleigh NC area and are down for a transman crashing on your couch for the forseable future (id pay for anything i could) let me know. i might be kicked out of my house, at like any minute. 

im 19 i dont have a car but i have a bike so transp isnt a huge issue if ur in raleigh, i have a steady job and im really nice and dont deserve whats happening to me.

im sorry to make this post. i really dont want it to come down to me being homeless but my family just. might not want me around anymore and i would like to know i have somewhere to go. 

please message me if you can, i can give you my phone number and ect. 

anonymous asked:

I think Black Moon Arc, in all versions, has a lot of plot holes because of time-travelling things like (1) Sailor Senshi's ultimate uniform (2) NQS' rod vs Eternal SM's Rod (3) Future people should have been aware of Chibiusa stealing Silver Crystal, Black Lady, etc., otherwise all of these are from a different universe. SMC staffs could have fixed some of these but they didn't.

They should have so that the story would have been more consistent, but it looks like that the only changes they’re willing to do are for dumb and irrelevant pairings (Shittenou x Senshi).

tomorrow-we-will-fly asked:

What was your favourite thing about living in Paris ? Could you ever see yourself living there in the future?

I actually learned a lot about myself with regards to living somewhere like Paris in the future. I loved it but I think I’d rather live in the suburbs and commute, should I ever choose to center myself in a city. Even living there for a month kind of drained me and made me miss nature and quiet, not because things weren’t fun, but because I always knew there was something to do if I wanted to do something. That kind of potential energy is a little wearying. I’m glad I was there for school because my class schedule helped structure my day.

I loved staying there more a month, though. And I loved the approach to food and urban planning, and the museums and–pretty much everything, right down to the public transit. I’m really going to miss eating carbs that made me feel naturally good and healthy ;_; They just know how to make a loaf of bread over there, oh man!! 

I think my favourite thing about my whole trip was the times I got to spend seeing historical spaces, and being around a beautiful city. I’ve got no illusions about the fact that I might want to live in Europe in the future. There’s just something about living in 200-year old buildings, or walking around a 500-year-old square, that fills my heart. I react pretty strongly to my surroundings, and being on a very ugly campus this year had a bigger affect on my happiness than I realized it did. 

But yeah. I miss it already. 

Today...

I officially let our landlord know we would not be renewing. While I am excited to move to the same town as my parents, it is bittersweet. I loved that house and so did the girls. I know that there will be another house in the next couple years but telling him is sort of like, there is no going back now. This is it. You will be living with your parents for a couple months and likely moving in to an apartment nearby. You can’t change that now so just let the anxiety in your chest fall away and look towards the future. The things I am holding on to today are:

1. Sydney will be in an excellent little school. This makes me very happy.

2. I will be close to family and family friends who love and support us no matter what.

3. As soon as a year and a half I could be back in a house that I love with every one I love under one roof. I keep looking to that as the light at the end of the tunnel.

Change takes time and sometimes it is hard and dark but you know there is an end with something great and what you have been longing for. Those first ‘big’ steps are scary as fuck and telling the landlord was the last one of those.

Time to get a move on! Literally!

ooc: THIS SEEMS LIKE IT COULD BE FUN so in about an hour I’m gonna be streaming the first Back to the Future movie HERE. Webcams aren’t necessary just come watch the movie and join in the chat where I’ll probably just be screaming about MJF and telling you all how absolutely fucked you would be if you were playing the drinking game. And I’m full of FUN FACTS and who doesn’t love FUN FACTS you guys???? [

When You Wake

Sixth installment of the Castiel imagine series “At First Sight.” The five other installments “At First Sight,” “You’re Growing On Me,” “Under His Wing,” “Wandering Thoughts,” and “Warrior Of Heaven” are all linked on their titles. Sorry about that link overload. It’s like having six children at the grocery store and I have to count heads before leaving. Based very loosely on this request from a masked minion. “Could you write one where Cas is dating you and he has to keep his distance because the angel factions are after him and the reader as well look at that I warped a request to fit a series and he is scared they might hurt you?” This imagine has been edited for reposting to add detail. Hope you like it!

(All past and future installments can be found on the “The Story Continues…” page.)

You were sprawled atop the motel’s surprisingly well-kept bed sheets, the weight of your body pressing downward through your stomach to sink into the mattress below. Your legs tangled in the air above your spine, your eyes dissecting every pattern within the feather before you, twirling the quill between your fingers, watching the midday sun shatter spectrums from the pristine barbs of light. The colours you now knew but could not name danced against the walls, weaving in and out of focus as you fiddled with your last souvenir from Castiel for… who knew how long. Like light shone through a crystal prism, your world was enveloped in a duller, dimmer version of the fractal rainbows Castiel’s true wings cast against everything in reach. The single feather was a poor imitation on it’s own, but sufficient enough to occupy your time. This measly little trinket could not paint the stagnant air with delectable hues you could almost taste on your tongue, but it could dye the light as the sun struck it. How long you’d been fiddling with Castiel’s feather, you had no idea. You were unaware of the time that had passed, for the most part, only aware that time was passing and that each second ticking by was a second without Castiel by your side.

The motel was cheap enough in cost and in services that it did not offer the luxury of an alarm clock, thus you gauged the time by the state of Castiel’s blood sigil; the scarlet faded slowly to a murky, flaking brown, followed by the time-stamp of ebony against the light pain. You were confined to the room with only an angel blade sheathed beneath your pillow for protection, an unlikely necessity, and the iridescent feather as your entertainment. You of course had food, running water, and comfort (as much as a roadside motel can offer, that is), but after so long in the company of someone so intricate and interesting, even the ability to lounge around without responsibility provided a certain anxiety, a boredom really, deep in the cavity of your chest. You had easily picked up the habit of redirecting your attention to the feather, to the colours and comforts that faded more and more with every passing day whenever you felt your insides churning over the ragged thought of being separated from your lover. You brought the down to your cheek, guiding the plumed tip along Castiel’s usual route, stroking along your cheekbone to falsify his presence. If you closed your eyes, it was almost as if he were beside you… but the familiar celestial embrace lacked a blatantly obvious factor somewhere along the lines of fifty thousand other contact points that should have been following the single feather’s path along your skin, but the action was soothing nonetheless.

The feather was a curious oddity in many ways. For one, with every new day, the spectrums lost a colour, or intensity of a colour, perhaps the ability to throw light as far as the back wall. Castiel’s wings never failed to paint your world, and yet this single feather on it’s own was flooding your room with a dying glow. Another rather unfamiliar alteration was the lack of song. The feather sung a single-note hum when you ran your finger through the barbs. You were so accustomed to the flood of song that you hadn’t noticed that each feather contributed the tiniest breath to the great crescendo. The delectable melody you heard when your angel swathed you in light was elicited by the masses rubbing against each other… the single apart from the many lacked the musical talent you so longed to hear. Your sanity was draining out through the soles of your feet, your lungs found more of a struggle to process the air within the motel room every night, and your interest was held by a dying angelic feather you alone could view. Surely, you were going mad. Here you were, twirling an invisible feather between your fingers, lounging beside a gore-splattered wall as you awaited the arrival of your Heavenly boyfriend. You never took visitors or called for a maid to tidy the gradual disarray of the room. You were completely and entirely alone. You were thankful, though, for the prolonged absence of the motel housekeeping… for a maid to stumble in on you staring intently at nothing more than open space with blood painted in suspiciously satanic sigils would spark a rather uncomfortable, rather public event. In short, police would be called, and you’d be dragged kicking and screaming from the safety of your makeshift bunker. With a Heavenly bounty on your innocent head, publicity would not be advised.

Though you were safely flying under angelic radar, your boyfriend was about as vibrant a blip as any; thus, you had to remain separated to avoid suspicion. His recent misguidance along the lines of Metatron had sparked the attention of his bitter, malicious brethren all over the world. To be in his presence had proved fatal… not ten minutes after you had arrived at the motel, an enemy threatened your life at blade-point, and not before swiping at your lover as well. It seemed as though their fury did not truly lie with your actions as lovers, as possible parents to the heralder of angelic end-times, but in the actions another had made in Castiel’s name. They were angry at Metatron, not Castiel, but this illicit relationship only served to sweeten the pot. Thus, to meet with him was about as safe as making toast in a bathtub. You’d progressed to the point where you were convinced his leave of absence was causing you physical pain, what with the dull ringing in your ears left behind after so long surrounded in song, the fire in your fingertips as you lusted for touch, your eyes forever glued to the glimmering feather. You couldn’t handle the loneliness… surely he would go unnoticed with the sigil to protect you. It had safeguarded you both before. You ducked your head over your hands, the feather spinning to nestle between your palms as you began your prayer, hoping you wouldn’t attract another angel merely by thinking religiously. You’d heard they could be rather… sensitive. That is to say, they liked to listen-in on their neighbor’s phone lines.

"Castiel, if you’ve got your ears on, I need to see you-” you began, but a flutter of wings silenced you mid-prayer. Your eyes snapped open to find your dull motel room had filled with a growing illumination, dark hues gradually increasing to the unimaginable brightness signature to the glorious wings sprouting from Castiel’s back. His shoulders were rigid as he strode towards you, his wings reaching hungrily for any part of you they would brush against. You stood from the bed, collapsing into his embrace with ease, his face buried in your hair with an audible sigh of relief. His arms wound around your back with the conviction of someone with no intention of releasing you, feathers and song blurring every other imagery in the room that was not some part of the angel. Your eyes blindly searched for individual patterns in the roiling waves of down and music as Castiel’s hands crushed your back to his chest, his lips ducking to your forehead, your temple, your cheeks, his hands raising to cup your face in his gentle palms. His sapphire eyes reflected every colour, every glimmer carried by the waves that were his wings, unknown tones bursting around you like fireworks, his passion and longing written plainly on his face. It seemed as though your loneliness was not suffered alone. There was a certain fear tainting the moment of reunion, present in his eyes as they flashed once to his sigil, heaving a collected sigh when he reassured himself that his markings would mask his presence. He quickly returned his attention to you, his lips diving to melt into yours, his tongue tracing the swell of your bottom lip, feather tips tracing along the ridges of your spine, small flurries of air lifting your hair in distracting fly-aways as his wings shimmied in the delight of holding you close. He pulled away, his eyes absorbing your features.

“I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see you. Y/n, you cannot imagine…” he started, his voice breaking, exhaustion darkening his usually pleasant tone, his hands brushing down your arms to pause at your wrists, holding your hands in his. He shook his head, traces of agony flashing in his ocean eyes. You pressed your lips to his, a tender, understanding kiss you hoped relayed just how well you could relate to his unbearable loneliness. The angel walked you backwards towards the bed, sitting beside you, your body curling into his lap like puzzle pieces sliding home. His wings acted as cradle barriers as he held you in his arms, tracing your features with the gentlest of touches, the quivering trill of his wing’s sweet hymn lulling you into a trance. Your body was vaguely aware of his hands tucking you beneath the sheets, his arm crossing over your rib cage as he settled in beside you, his wings forming a familiar canopy of multi-faceted stars above. When you woke, his wingsong was still humming in your ears, though his canopy had disappeared from view. You turned, your hand outstretched to encounter only comforter… and another feather, laid gingerly atop his used pillow, his honey-and-sunshine aroma clinging to the fabric like cologne. You stroked the feather, understanding his reason for leaving, though your heart was in full protest. It was only for your safety, for his safety, that he left, but he did leave. This new addition to your family of souvenirs restored held the vibrancy of the wilted feather no longer possessed, the bristles singing softly against each other, your heart constricting in your chest. A two-note melody was better than one, you supposed. How terrible it felt to be severed from your other half, how empty you felt without his touch, without his voice in your ear. With his intensified emotions and evolved attraction, you were positive it was worse on him. He had radiated abandonment the last you saw of him, his entire being had crumbled like old stone, the lines in his face had deepened, his every hair hungering, thirsting for you. You sighed, stumbling towards the down-scaled kitchen, dewy morning sunlight shining through the glossy glass of a remarkably well-cleaned window, your hand grazing against the refrigerator door, your other fingers occupied with creating Castiel’s false presence through song. This was maddening, rubbing two feathers together to mimic your boyfriend’s wings. You found nothing but mold left in the refrigerator. and decided on taking a small hike to find out if the motel offered breakfast, or even a granola bar. There must be a vending machine that wasn’t too far away from your safe zone, somewhere you could slip out to and return before anyone noticed you were gone. You were starved, your stomach growling over the crisp song of Castiel’s treasures. You stumbled to the door, your warded bones assuring you of your safety, tucking the scraps of Castiel into your pocket before venturing out into the sun.

The air was leaden with the thickness of heat, rays of light warming the asphalt with dangerous determination, your feet scalding almost instantly, your instinctive twitch into the shadows accompanied by a denim-muffled trill from the feathers in your pocket. You strolled about the seemingly abandoned complex, peering into each window to find another empty bed, another vacant room, your search for a manager ended prematurely when a pair of hands clasped around your throat from behind. Your body was forcibly thrown against the shingled siding of the motel, the hands returning quickly to your neck. Two foreign faces peered down at you as your air supply depleted, an angel blade pressing against your collarbone with frigid integrity. It was impossible, through your panic, to distinguish features, impossible to identify the men with tears welling along your waterline. One of the men smirked, his grip loosening enough to allow you to breathe, remaining firm enough to choke off any sound you could struggle to produce. You cursed yourself for being so foolish as to leave your confinement without a sword of your own. The laughing man reached his fingers into your pocket, retrieving the precious feathers. With a grunt, he secured the two feathers to the wall beside your head, angel blade jabbing easily though the exterior of the building, the quills loosing all life and color, their last peal of sound a gut-wrenching cry of agony. If the sword by your face hadn’t frightened you enough, the silence of the feathers did a fine job. The angel pulled you to his chest, his hands slipping from your jugular to your wrists, his grip vice tight.

“He told us you were intelligent,” he sleazed, the air about him shimmering with malice as, you supposed, his wings unfurled, invisible to you. You were grateful that you couldn’t witness the true size of your dreadful companions. Your blood ran cold in your veins, your mind a whirlwind of panic. “How very wrong he was.” They would put an end to all of this in the blink of an eye. The other angel vanished, taking his leave from the scene with the softest fluttering of unseen wings. Your captor bent his shoulder towards you, the air thin, vapid without the luster of wings, preparing for flight.

You scarcely had time to pray, but you poured your every thought into his name, hoping with all of your heart that he would hear. Half of you wished he never would. His life was as in as much danger as your own, if not more. The world around you spun out of focus as your captor took flight, your head tipping back from the sudden rush of inhuman movement. Vertigo seized control of your mind as you were carted into captivity. Your world went black.

anonymous asked:

If you feel like it, can you write something where Astrid does join the Berk Guard? RTTE is really annoying me ugh

oh–you–pretty–things wrote this which is better than any of the shit I write, but I also angry jammed these 3 paragraphs when I was cranky.  I wish I could get myself to write more.  


Astrid watches Hiccup and the rest of her friends leave for the great beyond, her new Berk guard sash itchy against the side of her neck.  It’s new green dyed wool, crisp and nagging, and she can’t forget it, can’t forget the decision that she made.  

Hiccup didn’t really invite her to come.  It was more of an expectation, and it grated on her more than it should have.  She’s not selfish for thinking about her future. Or even if she is, she hasn’t been selfish in years.  And she likes the way that the Vikings of the Berk guard looked at her when she demonstrated her skills with the axe, they looked at her like an equal, like an asset, they started arguing about who would get her on their shift and it was like being fifteen and the frontrunner in dragon training again and she liked it.  It’s not bad to like being the best, it’s not bad to like feeling valuable.  

“I don’t need to defend myself,” she mutters to no one but Stormfly, “come on, girl.  We have a patrol.”  

The patrols are simple. Boring almost.  Circling the island on the swirling currents above, watching for trouble.  Most of the other Vikings don’t have dragons, they knock on doors and police the streets for signs of trouble and it’s quiet in the sky.  Stormfly calls out to a flock of wild Nadders and soon they’re racing, spinning and darting between sea stacks in a playful chase.  She wonders if this is what Hiccup feels in the sky, following no one.  

anonymous asked:

i watched a part of 'back to the future 3' yesterday where Marty asked for the blacksmith and all i could think about was mark yelling "WHERE'S THE BLACKSMITH!!??" so i started laughing really hard and my mom and her boyfriend was so confused xD

I’ve never seen that movie but that sounds like something I would do too lol I find myself making references to Mark or Jack to some of my family/friends and I forget that they don’t understand them so I just laugh and they look at me like I’m crazy lol that sounds like it was funny though XD

alboms asked:

hello! school just let out for me this past thursday and Junior year was honestly the hardest academic year i've ever lived through. thankfully i'm all out in one piece. anyway, now i have all these papers that although i'm tempted to burn or rip up or something, could potentially be useful in the future (particularly H American Lit going into AP Lit) any advice on how to organize old assignment papers? what do you usually do?

I feel you about junior year. Thank goodness it’s over.

I also love this question because I’m a hoarder at heart, and I save all my school notes rather obsessively. Here’s how:

1. Gather. Brave the depths of your backpack. Clean out your locker. If a teacher still has a portfolio, ask for it back. Then find an open space (I like to use the living room floor) for the next few hours and sit down.

2. Sort. Even if you have folders dedicated to each class, things still get misplaced. Save yourself the hassle and make a pile of papers and notebooks for each subject. During this process, I’ll sometimes find blank pieces of paper, which I’ll put back in a box for future use. If you’re not about saving trees, then go ahead and throw those away. I’ll be judging you, though.

3. Curate. Choose one stack to start with. (I usually start with the tallest, most structurally unsound stack and work towards the smallest.) Go through the papers and sort them into three more stacks: Recycle, Reuse, and Reference.

  • Recycle: things that you will never need again. Examples: scratch paper that’s been used on both sides, messy problem sets, flyers for school dances you didn’t go to, activities like crosswords/word search/puzzles
  • Reuse: things that you won’t use but can give to someone else. Examples: textbooks, prep books (preferably not written in), notes for subjects you don’t plan on continuing. I also like to have a bin for paper with content on only one side, which I use as scratch paper throughout the year, but that’s just the tree-hugger in me.
  • Reference: things that you think you’ll need in the future. Examples: notes for subjects you plan on continuing (in your case, your H American Lit notes), writing/art/lab/whatever portfolios (if you can, keep all your essays along with rough drafts and any other previous drafts), projects you’re particularly proud of (I still have posters I made in middle school)

4. Store. For oversized items (posters, models), I have a large plastic container in my garage. For regular papers (essays, problem sets, examples), I designate a folder in a filing cabinet, with folders sorted by subject. If my notes are in a notebook, I’ll keep it that way and either put it in a box or on a bookshelf, depending on how often I’ll be using it as a reference. If my notes are loose-leaf, I’ll bind them or put them in a binder so that the papers stay together.

5. Evaluate. Every year, go through the things you’ve set aside for reference and decide if you still need them. If you don’t, recycle. Try not to be sentimental. (I get attached to my notes after laboring over them for an entire semester, and it’s a real struggle to get rid of them.)

Peter Maximoff #1(X-men)

Anon:  could u do a dofp!pietro x reader oneshot where the two are neighbors but the reader is bullied by other kids in the neighborhood and one day she snaps which leads to her losing control of her powers? but then pietro calms her down w/ loving words and kisses cuz he likes her a lot? (i was thinking reader w/ telekinetic powers but u can decide otherwise. and could u use the name pietro instead of peter!) thanks!! ^-^

Okey, so I decided to use Peter Maximoff name, so everybody be sure that it’s character from X-men. I’d like to do second part of it, so if anybody want it too, please let me know!

Enjoy!

 

You were sitting on steps in front of your house and playing with your cat. You heard voices of your peers. You lifted cat and wanted to go back home, but you’re too slow.

“Y/N! What’s up you goddamn witch?” yelled Joey. You hated him and all of his stupid friends.“Did you forget that we don’t want you here?”

Joey and his friends laghed and one of them threw a stone in your direction. You had to went through it since you were child. Your neighbours accidentally found about your abilities and thenceforth they hated you and persecuted you. They abused you every day and you were sick  and  tired of it. You had some kind of telekinetic abilities and you decided to used them right know. You didn’t want to hide anymore. You were powerful and they should be afraid of you. Your family had to put up with their behaviour and so had you. You never had a normal life, normal friends. You couldn’t even came closer to the boy you liked. The only one who never bullied you, because of them. They didn’t let you to be happy and you wanted to rapay them.

With the power of your mind you lifted the stone which one of boys threw into you. It stopped in the height of your chest and swerved to your stalkers. They panicked and started screaming.

“Witch, witch! She’s dangerous!” their voices pissed you off even more. You raised your hands above head and lifted few more stoned which flew to them. They started to ran away, but they couldn’t hide from you. You followed them and suddenly you felt that you had no control of your powers.

Everything happened very fast. You saw blasted trees, overturned trashcans, and bowed street lights. People went out of their houses to see what happened and when they saw you, they started to scream and hid. But they weren’t safe in their small houses. You could rip off roofes, break windows and bury their homes to the ground. An you enjoyed it. The feeling of power, smell of their fear. Their, who tortmened you so long.

But then you saw him.

He stood in front of his house and he didn’t look scared. You could notice smirk on his face and his squinted eyes. Once you saw him your hands flooped and everything calmed down. You realised what you’ve done and you fell on your knees and palmed your hands. You started crying.

You felt somebody’s hand on your backs.

“Hey, Y/N, come here. You shouldn’t stay here” you heard Peter’s voice. He was the only one who never stalked you.

“Leave me alone, I can hurt you” you cried but stood up.

“I belive I can run fast enough to avoid it” he armed you and pulled to his chest.“Come on, Y/N. They can catch you”

You followed Peter to his house.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked when he sat you by the table and made hot chocolate for you.

“I like you, Y/N. And we are similar” Peter cuddled you and kissed your forehead.

“What do you mean” you frowned and looked at him. He smiled playfully and in friction of second appeard next to doors. And then he ran back to you.

“I’m fast. Very fast” he winked.“And I know someone who can help you, but I need you to trust me”

“I trust you. Who is it? Who can help me?” you asked as you felt a spark of hope in your heart.

“He’s name is Charles Xavier”

anonymous asked:

I feel like I could be bisexual heteroromantic. I sometimes have sexual feelings towards girls, but nothing romantic. It's scarin me a lil tbh and i don't feel like my sexuality is valid. Thoughts?

It’s very valid! Romantic attraction and romantic attraction are very separate things. You have no reason to feel scared! Just make sure you discuss this with any future partners you have and try your best to accept yourself.

You’re perfect the way you are <3

[To anyone needing help, please read my FAQ and this post first]