anonymous asked:

First of all sorry about all the stupidness going on in your ask. You are a strong person I think I would lose my mind if people did that to me. Ask: I was wondering if you've ever fallen in love with an animal that you couldn't get for some reason? I saw a shelter dog today but she was not good with other dogs so I couldn't take her. I cried after I left because I think she's the only dog I instantly felt attached to and loved. Has this ever happened to you with an animal before?

I really, really loved a kelpie called Maggie.

Maggie (Miss Maggles) was an RSPCA cruelty case and the mother of these puppies.

She was such a sweet heart, tolerant of everything she went through, and didn’t deserve the situation she was put in ( broke her leg, then chained up without shelter as ‘confinement’, where she got pregnant and gave birth in the cold. She and her surviving day old puppies were snatched up immediately by the RSPCA inspector the moment they visited the property. And let me tell you, there’s something that particularly kicks you in the gut when you’re bagging up dead puppies in evidence bags.

Miss Maggles defied the odds with her healing, and was just so patient and sweet with everything, despite having all the energy of a kelpie. I was seriously considering whether we could keep her, especially as she remained at the shelter long after her puppies were adopted out, but we were having housing trouble at the time and it wasn’t a good idea.

She did eventually get a home with kids that doted on her, so she got the life she deserved, but damn it I really did love that dog.

Everyone in the world is born with a marking, that defines what power or ability they will eventually develop. These marks evolve over time for some people, if their powers become stronger or take on certain specific traits. 

Someone who was born with a flower, and has the ability to make existing plants grow faster, might become someone with many flowers as their mark, and gain the ability to grow plants from nothing, or even control them completely. Someone with a rain drop marking, might start with the ability to create rain, but end up with the ability to control all kinds of storms, with a mark to match. 

Not everyone’s powers are so flashy, and some have abilities that only make them higher than average in things that everyone else does. Some don’t even figure out their power right away, their marks not giving them enough information, or no situations having come up, to trigger their abilities, if a trigger is what is needed. Either way, no one is without a mark. Except you.

When you were born, no mark could be found. Some assumed that it may simply be lightly coloured, like those who control air or ice, but many chose to think the worst, and treat you as defective. As you grew up, even your parents lost hope for you, often lying about your markless status, once they moved you all away from that town. It was better for them to tell others that you were simply embarrassed by your mark and weak ability, than to admit that their child had no mark at all. It was unheard of. Unnatural. 

You managed to move away from them the second you were old enough, and tried not to feel bitter by how eager they were to help you last on your own. How relieved they were when you were gone. 

It was better for you now, being away from them, with more than enough of an inheritance to stay out of their way for the rest of their lives. They didn’t hate you, they were just ashamed of you. Though you couldn’t say you felt much of anything for them anymore. It was like a breath of fresh air, being on your own.

Alone, you had the chance to finally express yourself, rather than worrying about appearances for your parents sake. You got new clothes, bought things that you enjoyed, to decorate your home, got those piercings you wanted, the whole deal. As cliche as it was, you couldn’t deny that it made you feel better.

Whilst sitting at the hairdressers, scrolling absently through your phone, you cant help but smile, finally content with the way things were going. Your hairdresser interrupted your train of thought, as he finished shaving the section on the side of your head.

“My god! What a stunning mark! You must be pretty powerful to have something so detailed.” He said, in awe of the design that covered your scalp.

The Rapture (S.M Fic)

The Rapture (S.M. Fic)

TW: murder (physical and intense), language, horror/gore, + Witches! This is dark, and the beginning describes a murder, so if this is hard for you, please do not read the beginning which is in italics.

(Word Count: 4054)

1984, Massachusetts

Fog rose amongst the dark pines, evanescing through creeks and tremors of wood logs. It rose, like a plague which callously acted for itself in the intent of harm, slithering slightly, simmering below.

           She ran, her legs chilling, her neck red and marked from poisoned fingers, ones with the intent to harm. Her hair was catching on leaves, thorns, the fingers of trees wrapping themselves in her as if pulling her back.

           “No!” she cried, falling forward and scrapping her knee. Her dress ripped in half, its sparkling fabric scorching in a rough line from her legs to her mid-thigh. She gathered herself up with the help of a tree limb, and took a rock in one hand, running down the line in which the trees let out. She could feel the blood, the dripping of it tapping on her arm, her ankle.

           She could hear the laughs, sick horrid laughs that filled her body with enraged fear and hate. Prickles tainted along her bare arms and her body shivered. She let out a choked cry and wept, running, running. She only knew to run. Her heart leapt out of her throat and she smashed into a hard wall that wrapped itself around her body. She looked up, seeing the face of which she ran from.

           He snickered at her, laughed. His sickening grin sneering into her. She screamed, smacking the rock against his head. He snapped his arm before it reached him, blocking her movements and letting the rock fall to the ground. Her heart plummeted.

           “Now, that’s not very nice, is it?” His voice was coated in darkness. She tried to whip her body from his grasp, but another hand enclosed on one of her wrists, pulling her spread-eagle. She tried to move her arms, tried to pull her elbows in.

           “Let’s get this over with,” one murmured, scathing her body with is eyes. She yelled, coughed, cried out. Incoherent sentences flowed from her, anything to get someone’s attention.

           “No one’s out here, sweetheart,” the one from before said in an eerily sing-song voice which made her feel sick. She spat at him, glaring upwards.

           He looked down, shifting his stance and kicking her shins. She fell forward, her arms burning. She screamed, cursed them.

           “You’ll die for this!” She cried out to them, she screamed.

           The two boys laughed, chuckled at her horror and fear, at her indisputable curse.

           “Witch” one laughed, spat.

           “Necromancer,” the other scolded heartlessly, pushing her face into the ground with his hand.

           She closed her eyes, prayed to which ever god was there, and took one last breath before she screamed into the cold musky night. The metal pierced her back, fell through and scraped her bones like chalk. She cried, cried, cried, and pleaded for help, for someone.

           But, no one came, not yet.

2018, Massachusetts

           Shawn pushed the box into the center of the room, the books shining in the light of his family’s living room. His three friends laughed and pulled them out, looking at each and all of them with intensity. He looked around nervously, getting up and shutting all the windows and turning on all the lights. He pulled his phone out and turned on the volume. He ran a hand through his hair, then both hands, nervously tugging at his roots.

           “Shawn, man, chill,” Mitchell laughed and shook his head. “They’re just old books.”

           “They’re my grandmother’sbooks,” Shawn explained. “And she hates when people touch her shit.”

           Graham laughed. “Uh-oh, careful there Mitch, you might mess up the page on how to cook the best chocolate-chip cookies.”

           The three friends laughed out loud, Mitchell falling back against the wooden flooring. Shawn rolled his eyes and sat down across from them, tugging at the ends of his blue sweatshirt. David pulled the book out of a hysterically, laughing Mitchell’s arms, and opened it up, his eyes going wide.

           “Holy shit are these spells?”

           The two other boys stopped laughing and sat up, looking at David then back to Shawn, who only held his arms up.

           “Man, I don’t talk to my Grandmother, I don’t know what she’s got cooped in there,” Shawn explained, crossing his arms.

           The three boys looked at each other, then, David pushed the book in their direction. Mitchell grabbed the old tome and read through it, mumbling words and looking up at Shawn every so often.

           “A cure for Shaking Death,” Mitchell drawled, then laughed. “Oh here,” he laughed loudly. “Shawn, you should brew this up for the next party, A Drink of Loves Tears-One in Which Makes the Host of Amorous Exchange,” Mitchell and the two other boys snickers.

           “Shawn, maybe Jessica Adams will finally droop in your arms!” David chucked.

           Shawn rolled his eyes and pulled the finger at both of them. “Fuck you.”

           Mitchell’s eyes widened, and a wicked grin pranced along his lips. “A Spell of the Trapped-Release which has been kept,” Mitchell said slowly. “Maybe this’ll unlock your curse of being a virgin, Shawn.”

           Shawn kicked Mitchell from under the coffee table and scowled. David and Graham laughed loudly and pushed Mitchell on the shoulder.

           “Read it, if you’re not a pussy,” Mitchell said in-between laughs.

           Shawn rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “No way. I’m not doing that, and I’m not a pussy.”

           David and Graham looked at one another with keen smiles, then eyed Shawn and began to make small cat-like noises. “Meow…”they teased. Mitchell laughed and pushed David.

           Shawn narrowed his eyes and glared at the boys who began meowing incisively. Finally, he reached over and pulled the book out of Mitchell’s hands and smacked David on the arm, then pulled back and opened the book in front of him. “Fine!” he exclaimed. “I’ll read the damn thing, just shut the hell up, we’re in college for god’s sake.”

           The three boys leaned back on their arms and smirked at one another. Shawn took a breath and looked over the text. It was written in language which seemed like it was plucked from the Medieval Times. He began to speak, quietly, almost a mumble.

           “Louder,” Mitchell raised his brows in a smirk. Shawn glanced up at him with narrowed eyes and a tight lip. He looked down and began again, announcing it so his voice filled the room.

           He pronounced every word, every syllable as though he had spoken the words before, like he knew them. He clutched the book and read intently, his brown hair fell over his eyes and he shifted his back against the couch. As he finished the words, he slowed and sighed, closing the book with a stark ‘snap!’ and looked up.

The lights flickered softly, a jolt, which to some may have looked like a slight ruffle in the electrical cords, or if an animal had stepped on a wire receiver outside. Shawn looked around, glancing up at the slightly shaking chandler on the ceiling. He looked back at his friends and eyed them suspiciously, but no one said a word.

“You guys are a fucking joke,” Shawn complained, and threw a pillow at each of them. They all yelled at him and tumbled forward, grabbing the pillows and throwing them back at Shawn, who raised his hands and shouted with a laugh.

The boys rose and followed suit to the front door, pushing each other and laughing.

“What a great end to the night, right Shawn?” Mitchell quirked and eyebrow and laughed, punching Shawn on the shoulder. Shawn didn’t move or flinch, he rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Yea, great. Get outta here.”

The boys laughed and walked out, filing into Mitchell’s car and waving from the driveway to Shawn, who gave a quick flick of his hand and shut the door, huffing and walking back to the living room. He picked up the pillows and placed them back on the couch, then pulled the coffee table back into place and brushed his hair with his hands. He looked down at the old book and gave them a disapproving look, then picked them up and placed them in the box. What type of shit is my grandma into?Shawn shook his head and picked op the large box and started walking to the staircase, when out of the corner of is eyes, he noticed a figure standing in the middle of his backyard. He yelped, dropping the box and backing away to the wall.

The figure—no, a girl, Shawn’s breath caught in his throat. She stood in the backyard, wearing a flimsy long blue gown which was ripped thoroughly. Her hair was straggled along her face, and Shawn noticed her staring back at him, crying. Shawn moved to the glass door, opening it slightly.

“Hey,” he called out to her nervously. “You ok?”

She looked at him sadly, then collapsed on her knees. His eyes widened and he ran over to her. His backyard porch lights illuminated the yard and Shawn noticed how paleher skin was. He dropped to his knees, feeling the wet ground soak through his jeans.

“Hey, hey!” he shook her arms and she looked up at him, dazed. Her eyes drained of life. “I’m gonna’ call the police,” he began, taking out is phone.

“No!” She yelped, placing her hand on his, pushing it against his pant pocket. He looked up at her with surprise and frowned.

“Then the ambulance!”

“No! No police, no hospital!” She cried. Her cheeks were black with dirt and her eyes were coarse and dry. Shawn then noticed the dark, black, auburn stain smeared like a spill across her chest. His mouth widened and he looked up. She shook slightly, from fear and, what Shawn assumed was the cold air. Her breathing was ragged and short and she stared at him with tear filled eyes, shaking her head slightly.

The moon was bright and it shimmered across the clear crystal night sky. A squeak of bats chipped from the woods behind them, and Shawn looked around cautiously. She raised her hand to his chest and he looked over at her quickly.

“Where am I,” she asked breathlessly.

Shawn scanned her face cautiously. “Mathersmarrow, Massachusetts.”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “The year?”


“What is the year?”

Shawn looked at her appalled and confused. Fear started bubbling on his bones and he shook his head slightly. “2018.”

She choked somewhat and let out a short cry. She dropped her hand and looked to the sky, then back at him.

“You…you, set me free,” she cried slightly, smiling. She raised her palms to his cheeks and laughed, tears falling from her eyes. “Thank you.”

Shawn looked at her confused. “I—I don’t understand, what?”

She smiled and him. “You set me out of my tomb, you must help me.”

He shook his head. Suddenly, a noise emitted, a car-like rumble, and Shawn widened his eyes. He looked behind him and noticed a bright light shining from the side of his house. The girl looked at him, suddenly scared. She pulled at his sweater clad arm and desperately plead to him.

Please,” she cried softly. “You must help me find who did this.” He looked at her, then back at her chest. He couldn’t believe what the fuckwas going on, he didn’t know if he was somehow high, or if Mitchell slammed something in his water this evening. He knew, however, that his mother would surly freak out even more than he was, and he had no clue what his grandmother would say, given the fact that he found fucking spell books in her closet.

Shawn let out a loud, irritated groan and took the girls hand, pulling her inside the house. He moved her through the glass door and down the hall, to a door which was settled next to a large bookcase. He opened the door, and turned on the lights. A light pink shade covered the walls, and the bed had a fluffy white duvet which had pink pillows showered around it. The girl walked inside after him, taking in the surroundings. Shawn ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

“Ok, my sister is at school in Ohio, so you can sleep here tonight. And use her clothes, just don’t put it in the normal laundry bin,” he explained. He walked over and pushed open a door adjacent to them in the room. “Here’s the bathroom. I’d suggest taking a shower quickly. My mom will be back any minute with my grandmother.”

She placed a hand softly on the bed, running her fingers over the soft fabric. She nodded, looking down at the way the puffy cover enveloped her thin fingers. Shawn watched her, a feeling of sympathy and concern grow in the pit of his stomach for this mystery girl. He walked over to the door, looking back at her before she started unzipping the back of her dress, and he closed the door.

Shawn walked over to the dropped boxes and picked it up swiftly, pulling the box into is arms and walking up the stairs quickly. He pushed the door of his grandmother’s room open and kicked the closet door aside so he could shuffle the box in safely. He heard the water running from downstairs and prayed that his mother ran into night traffic.

Shawn moved over to his room and pushed forward, pulling his sweatshirt off himself and shuffling off his jeans and pulling on plaid sweatpants. He walked over to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face, until he heard a loud thump. He looked up in the mirror, face wet and dripping. He grabbed the towel and dried his face, running down the stairs and pushing open the door of his sister’s room. He rushed over to the bathroom and thrust it open, not thinking about the fact that the girl was showering inside.

Shawn’s eyes widened and he lunged forward, pulling open the shower door and grabbing a towel. The girl knelt on the floor of the shower, tears falling from her face and mixing with the shower. Her long hair was pushed away from her face and Shawn noticed the light color that started blushing on her small frame. His bare upper body became soaked as he pulled her out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her. Blood dripped from her knees and she sniffled.

“It’s ok,” he said quietly, wrapping the towel around her. She hiccupped, leaning her head softly against his chest. His bones constricted and his breath caught in his throat. He pulled her from under her arms and moved her out of the bathroom, laying her slightly on the bed. She looked at him with large eyes, color suddenly agreeing with her. Her lips looked slightly pink, and Shawn had to take his eyes away from hers and pull his sisters dresser open. His neck became red, staring at the undergarments, then slightly stealing a glance at her from the side. She pulled the towel close to her and looked at him.

“uh,” he began, looking back at the clothing. “I’ll let you get the… the uh, the underwear and stuff,” he fumbled with his words, suddenly forgetting English. He pulled soft polka-dot pants out from a drawer and a long sleeve shirt that was plain white from another. He handed them to her and pointed to the top drawer. She nodded, looking up at him with a small smile.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. He looked at her and felt the urge to kiss her. He couldn’t believe his thoughts; his mind was straggled and mixed. She was hauntingly intriguing, mysterious and concerning, yet he felt the urge to be near her.

He only nodded, taking the safer route, and moved out of the room. Once he closed the door, he let out a loud sigh of relief. The front door jingled open and Shawn stood tall, walking fast to the kitchen.

His mother and grandmother walked in the room, carrying three bags of what looked like candy and cards.

“Grandma won big tonight, Shawn,” his mother winked with a smile. His grandmother laughed from behind her, placing her purse and coat on the chair of the dinner table.

“I just have an itch for scrabble,” she laughed.

Shawn laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. His mother looked at him humorously. “Take a shower?” She questioned with a slight smile.

He nodded furiously. “Yea,” he began. “You know, Honors Stats, it just makes me so stressed, I have to cool down after I even look at the material.”

His mother eyed him with a smile, then looked at her mother. Shawn smiled awkwardly and moved to the stairs.

“Well,” he said loudly. “I am just exhausted. I’m sure you party animals are just the same,” he laughed breathlessly.

His mother eyed him, then took a glass of water to her lips. “Yea, I am pooped, but I need to put this stuff away in your sister’s room before I go to bed. Would you help grand—”

“I’ll do it!” he announced, running over to the box on the floor. His mother looked at him with wide eyes. “I just know how tired you are, and I just…want to help.”

She narrowed her gaze and nodded slowly. “How kind,”

Shawn smiled and chucked, turning his back to them and internally caving inward.

That next morning, Shawn said bye to his mother and grandmother as they left to the grocery store. He smiled and waved from the door, pressing the garage button as soon as they left the driveway and slammed the door shut, then turned and ran to his sister’s room. He opened the door a creek, looking inside. The girl stood, her back faced to him, wearing just the long-sleeved shirt that fell to her mid-thigh, looking at pictures set up on the white bookshelf on the wall. He let out an estranged breath and slid in through the crack.

“Ok,” he began. “Now what’s going on, and how am I supposed to help you.”

She looked at him, her hair long and wavy from the braid that was tied in it from last night, in which he helped her with when he put the boxes away.

“The spell you read, it unlocked my talisman. I am able to walk the earth again, to find my killer, so that I may be set free.”

Shawn stared at her. He found his inability to speak and she smiled at his ignorance.

“I thought you would have known, as you said the spell.”

“I—I’ve never said a spell before!” he said with a sigh, rubbing his face. She walked forward, placing a soft hand on his bicep.

“It’s ok,” she smiled softly. “I can help. I have recited many times before.”

He looked at her confused. “You’re a witch?”

She laughed brightly, a sound that made his heart squeeze. “I wasa witch, until two men murdered me. Now, I am simply…something as a spirit, but I have regained form from the talisman.”

He nodded, not understanding anything she spoke of, but simply agreeing that it was probably the only way to get through this situation. She laughed again, and walked away, sitting on the bed.

“We need a location spell,” she said.

He looked at her confused. “A what spell? I don’t know…magic?”

She smiled and nodded. “Magic, yes. A location spell finds things, and in this case, finds people. Do you have a book of magic?”

His eyes widened and he nodded. “Yes!” he moved to the door. “My grandmother, she does, I’ll grab them.”

Shawn ran out of the room and up the stairs, stopping at the top to evaluate just what the fuck he was doing. Magic? He closed his eyes. Could it be true? It would most definitely make everything easier to understand, maybe. It explained the girl, and could have explained the lights. Shawn rubbed his forehead. What was the pain in trying? If nothing happened, he could give the girl to authorities and forget the whole thing.

Shawn walked to his grandmother’s room and picked up the box and brought them back downstairs. He also grabbed a small bag which was placed on the side of the package, throwing it in with the books and opening the door again. He laid the book on the floor, the girl opening each page and flipping through. Finally, after a while of searching, she came across a page that seemed familiar.

When One has Been Lost,” she announced with a smile. She opened the book on the floor, then pulled the bag Shawn brought and opened it. He watched as she took bags of salt, gems, vials of liquid, a map, and other assortments of objects from the pack. She took the map and laid it flat on the ground, placing the crystals on each corner to keep it from curling. She took his hand in hers and emptied a bag of black dust in his palm.

“You must recite it,” she smiled. He looked at her, concerned.


“Just as you said the last, but close your eyes, and let the dust fall as you do. Think of the name Johnathan Eddie.”

He looked at her, her face serious. He gulped, then took a deep breath.

“I have to know your name first before I say any weird shit.”

She laughed and nodded. “(Y/N).”

He looked at her with concentration, then smiled lopsidedly. “Ok, (Y/N), I’m Shawn.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.

“Just focus, Shawn,” she soothed, turning his hand over the map slowly. He took a deep breath and began to recite.

As he spoke the words after her, he let out bits of dust on the map. He thought of the name, focusing in on every letter. The sand started to move against the map in a line, straightening towards a state, then a city, then Mathersmarrow. he felt a deep tingle against his stomach, then it reached his head to his fingers. He stopped, taking a deep breath, then opened his eyes. Below on the map, three lines focused in on the town, and Shawn let out a long sigh.

“But it’s here?” He looked at her confused, staring at her excited smile.

He’shere,” she laughed and threw her arms around Shawn. “You’ve found him!”

Shawn’s eyes widened. A deep pit formed in his stomach. It was all real. He felt like puking, like spinning around and falling through a long hole. His brain hurt, a migraine on the verge on tearing him apart. How?He couldn’t explain any of it, yet it seemed to come together so easily. (Y/N) moved away from him and Shawn saw small tears in her eyes. He felt his heart constrict again, realizing what this meant for her, this spirit of a murdered girl. He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. He wanted to find this Johnathan Eddie. Intense rage, anger, confusion, they mixed in Shawn’s mind and he wanted to yell, wanted to scream.

Then, she moved in and kissed him. Instead of a scream, Shawn’s eyes widened and then, softly closed. He pulled his arms to her back, pulling her in slightly, slowly, ever so carefully. Her lips were soft and angelic, something illustrious from a dream, however she herself seemed like an angelically dangerous dream that Shawn was now so keen on fixing. Her palms softly laid against the back of his neck, pulling him closer. She fell inward slightly, kicking away at the board and brushing away the dust, falling into his arms, against his chest.

After a moment, she pulled her lips away and knelt her forehead on his. He wanted more, wanted to know more, but he didn’t. He only stayed as he was, in her arms.

“We’ll find him,” he murmured lowly. “We’ll find him, and we’ll get you home.”



The rhythmic creaking would have been completely annoying to anyone else, but for some reason, it only made you smile. Glancing off behind you, you bite back a smile, watching the mass of fur and scales, rock in the straining hammock. 

One of its back legs hung down, deadly claws lightly scraping the ground as it rocked back and forth. The rest of its awkward body, was twisted into a comfortable mess, inside the large hammock, looking like an oversized, particularly bizarre cat. Its forepaws laid under its head, partially hanging over the edge as it panted contentedly, exhausted from running round like mad earlier, burning off it’s energy while it was safe to do so. 

Its long muscular tail was curled around the post at the end, keeping itself rocking slowly. Even with how much you had enforced the special hammock, it still creaked with its massive weight, and you knew that you would likely have to fix it again soon, or make a bigger one. 

A low rumbling sound echoed out, and you lifted your head in surprise, meeting the happy gaze of the creature, its eyes practically begging for you to abandon what you were doing and come cuddle. They let out a low warbling sound of displeasure when you don’t instantly do so, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their whining. 

Yes the creaking could be annoying, but it was oh so worth it, to know how happy it made them.


Simblreen Story part 1

Gruff and his wife were downstairs in the Nectary. He’s been learning to make wine, his ambitions to put the cellar of their newfound cabin to good use having brought his family to Champs Les Sims. He wasn’t very good at it yet and his wife had a request from a lady in town to bring her a very nice bottle of wine. Gruff wanted to make it himself!

Finishing up at the nectar maker, he turned to speak to his wife. She was playing on the foosball table nearby, humming to herself. Her pink rhinestone reading glasses sparkled in the candlelight and Gruff considered how lovely she was. Look at her fur! So soft and shiny. That expensive French fur conditioner she bought really seemed to take the years off.


Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This isn’t the best but I wanted to write something. And I imagine this would be how I would react if in this situation.


“You know I’m nothing special, right?”

He rolled his eyes. He hated when she did this. “Special”. Of course, she was special. She was his best friend. She was the first girl that looked past his mask and saw him for who he really was. She knew how to push his buttons, but more importantly she knew how to make him laugh. She was there when he had a rough day and she was there to celebrate in his successes. She sent him funny Snapchats at exactly the moment he needed them, and she would sing softly while running her fingers through his hair to help him sleep. She was everything. He hated that she couldn’t see that.


The word came out quiet, but the amount of emotion behind it was deafening. He needed her to stay. He didn’t care that there were people out there who wanted him to be with someone different. He didn’t care that people didn’t understand. He knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

“Tom, I- I don’t think we should do this.”

Her hands pressed gently against his chest, and she could practically feel his heart breaking. She couldn’t stop her arms from shaking, and she wanted nothing more than to be pulling him closer instead of pushing him farther away. However, she couldn’t ignore their words. Not good enough. She had spent the past few months trying to convince herself that she was. It took one article to convince her that she wasn’t.

Pictures swirled the tabloids of Tom onset with his co-star. It wasn’t real, he thought. It was only pretend. He hated the media for what they were doing to his relationship with her. While he was away, he realized that she was someone he couldn’t live without. He was going to come back and make her his, for good this time. He wanted her to see herself the way that he saw her. Even with her eyes downcast, and her hands trying to send him away, she still looked beautiful. She was still perfect.

He reached out to brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, causing her eyes to lift to meet his. He didn’t want her to believe anyone who said that she wasn’t worth the love that he was trying to give her. He didn’t want her to think that even for a second that he could care about anyone more than he cared about her.

“Don’t give up on me just because they are too blind to see how perfect you are for me.”

He could see the pain behind her eyes, and he knew that this was deeper than just the two of them. She had been told that she wasn’t good enough her whole life. She had spent her life in the shadows, and the first time she steps out into the sun, she’s burned again.

“I’ll never be able to compete with her.” She murmured, her voice catching slightly. Her eyes found her lap again, and he reached out to grasp her hands in his. He removed them from his chest and kissed the back of both of them separately.

“There is no competition. There’s only you.”

He saw the tear slip down her cheek, and he quickly released her hand to reach up and brush it away. A light shade of pink tinted her cheeks, but she still didn’t look up at him. She was scared. He knew what it would be like for her if she were to give in. He knew that he would have to work extra hard to make sure that she never doubted him. He would have to work even harder to make sure that she never doubted herself. He was willing to do that. It was a small price to pay to ensure that he didn’t lose her.

“I don’t want them to hate me.”

Her voice was shaky and she gripped his hand harder than she ever had before. She had to make sure that he was still there. She didn’t want him to slip through her fingers like so many had done before.

“They just don’t know you. Give it time, and they will realize how wonderful you are. They are sure to love you as much as I do.”

This time, her eyes were on his. Love. He could feel her pulse in her wrist, and he could feel that her heart was beating as quickly as his was. He hadn’t said those words yet, and letting them slip right now had never been his intention. He was wanting it to be under a more special occasion, but even so he didn’t regret it. He had been feeling it for months. Seeing her doubt herself had made him want to prove it.

They gazed at each other in silence for a long time. Tom shifted in his seat uncomfortably, begging for her to say something. Her face was filled with many emotions, but he couldn’t read any of them. Slowly, her head started nodding, and Tom felt like his heart was soaring. She was agreeing. She was willing to give them a chance.

Quickly, he grabbed the sides of her face and kissed both of her cheeks. She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her to finally pull him against his body. The warmth of his chest caused all the tension to leave her body as she relaxed into his embrace. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She didn’t know how the fans were going to react. But she did know that he was worth it. He was something special.

so it’s 8:11 pm and it’s pitch black outside right. well i just went to feed my dog because apparently no one did earlier and as soon as i walk out i hear this really strange noise that sounds like it’s coming from either my neighbor’s house or on the street below us.

so i’m chillin without a flashlight walking to my dog’s food bowl and i keep hearing this noise, but it’s exactly the same the entire time so i’m like “okay i guess it’s a halloween decoration or something”

so i get done with her food and as soon as i start walking back up to the house, the noise starts changing (it would be longer for a second and then be super short the next) until i’m about halfway to my house and it just stops. so i stop too, my whole body frozen as i try to listen for that noise.

the noise either got closer or got louder

i’m not really sure because i took off at a sprint to the house and made it to the door in record time

i went back outside a few minutes later and didn’t hear anything but dogs barking (they weren’t there before) so i’m going to assume i just barely got away from some nighttime monster trying to kill me

( @bobby-the-wallflower, @battylife, @askbananapie)

While Rainbow Dash flew off to find answers about Tank’s “problem” Keira and Discord went to the market to get some things. She was more than ready for some autumn decorations, and Keira was hoping to find some sunflowers for in her living room.

( @the-ester-stallion)
Discord: I still don’t get why you want sunflowers in the house.
Keira: Because I like them and they’re festive for the fall!
Discord: They’d still be better if they were just suns on stalks… Suns are all warm, but this weather just keeps getting colder…

( @ask-suey-suicide-pony-blog)

Discord: Hold on. Does that mean Hearth’s Warming will be coming up?
Keira: Once autumn is over, yes. You’ll know it’ll be close when the pegasus ponies start brings snow clouds in from Cloudsdale.
Discord: That’s where Rainbow Dash lives?

Keira: Yes.

Oh Shit

By reddit user u/ByfelsDisciple

“I have your eight-year-old son tied up next to me. Do exactly as I instruct, or I will slowly remove all of his skin with a potato peeler.”

I suddenly didn’t give a shit about my Pumpkin Spice Latte, and I dazedly backed away from the counter without retrieving my credit card.

“Daddy!” Oliver screamed from the other end of the line.

A parent knows how to discern each type of his child’s scream.

This one was “genuine terror.”

It was all I could do to keep the phone from tumbling out of my trembling hand. “What do you want from me?” My body rattled; I had unknowingly backed up against the wall.

Keep reading

That time a pack of dogs almost attacked me

When I lived in Leeds, England, Romani people set up camp not far from our house. They had a bunch of dogs that protected the camp, but one late evening as I walked by the dogs got out of their enclosure and ran straight for me. To get to me they had to cross an extremely busy road however, and as these snarling, angry dogs came running towards me my only thought was “I hope they don’t get run over!” They didn’t, but as they got closer it dawned on me that they didn’t look friendly, so I quickly got down on one knee, held my hands up and talked to them in a friendly, high-pitched manner “Hiiiiii puppies. Helloooo, look at you. Pretty puppies” I basically tried to seem as non-threatening as possible and greet them like you’d greet a dog you know isn’t dangerous but without looking directly at them. The dogs looked so confused. They circled around me and growled a bit but didn’t quite dare to get close. I think there was five or six. Eventually one of them sniffed my hand which made the other dogs braver and they all came over to sniff me. Then the owners came out and started yelling at them all panicky, looking horrified and the dogs ran back across the road, somehow not getting hit again. I nearly shat my pants that night.

I’ve since had other encounters with not so friendly dogs, and this has always worked. Get down, hold your hands up with your palms towards the sky like you’re offering them something, don’t look directly at them, and talk to them in high-pitched friendly manner and use slow movements. You’re in the clear when they turn their back on you. I’m not claiming this will work on dogs that were trained to attack or were severely abused and just want to hurt people, but it definitely works on dogs that are just confused or worried you might hurt them. Just show them you aren’t a threat. It’s your best chance.

It also works wonders on abused dogs who are terrified of humans but not aggressive btw. Look in the opposite direction of them and hold a limp hand out towards them as far from your body as you can while talking in a friendly manner and slowly smacking your lips (dog language for “I’m calm”). My neighbor runs a dog rescue. She taught me a lot and I never had any trouble making friends with the dogs, even if it took a few days.

After looking around in the market place, Keira and Discord started to head to Sugar Cube Corner to pick up an order. Along the way, they ran into Applejack and Rarity.

Keira: Hey, girls! What’s going on?

Applejack: We were about to go help the other ponies clear up the area so the pegasus ponies can bring back the snow.

Discord: How wonderful!

Discord: So, is that like the Winter Wrap-Up you ponies did last year?

Rarity: Not quite. It’s more a clean up to prepare for the coming of the snow so the clean up in spring is less of a hassle.

Keira: Is any pony else coming?

Applejack: We were actually about to go check up on the others.

Discord: Well if you’re going to talk to the others, see what’s going on with that reptile friend of Dash’s.

Applejack: You mean Tank?! 

Rarity: What ever happened to him!?

Discord started to explain the events earlier in the day. He told the two about how Rainbow Dash had played a prank on Keira, which had resulted in a face full of paint, and how Tank seemed far more sluggish than normal.