and she understood

Molly Weasley watched her third oldest son turning his back to their family but never gave up on him.

Molly Weasley saw her husband at his weakest moment as he laid wounded in St. Mungo’s hospital. She never understood what muggles thought when they started praying to their god(s):                                                                         But that night as she sat at her husband’s hospital bed she couldn’t help but fold her hands, close her eyes and just hope that there was indeed a greater deity that could bring her husband back to her family.

Molly Weasley put a bandage around her fifth son’s head when he was bleeding onto her sofa, his ear ripped away. She did not let her heart and actions be ruled by panic and fear. She would not  risk her son’s life like that.

Molly Weasley saw her son that wasn’t her son dead in Hagrid’s arms and did not show how she broke inside. Instead, she gripped her wand a little tighter, bit her lip a little stronger and started to fight a lot grimmer.

Molly Weasley cried over her fourth son’s cold body, his last laugh still etched into his face. She witnessed her fifth son crumbling right then and there. She saw her family grieving and crying. She went through hell but reminded herself to keep going.

Molly Weasly got up and stared straight into the eyes of Narcissa Malfoy. 

Proud woman, blonde hair, pale skin.

Split lips, bloody cloak, sad eyes.

They did not exchange one word.

But one glance was enough.

Narcissa’s eyes darted to Fred, to Harry, then back to Molly. Her lean finger’s tightened indiscernibly around her son’s bony shoulder.

A nod.

The war had taken enough lifes. Enough children.

And as one mother to another, Molly Weasley nodded back.

“I came to America when I was six years old. Mom said she brought us here so that we’d have opportunities in life. She said that back in the Bahamas, it’s only the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots.’ She wanted us to have more choices. But I don’t think she fully understood how things work here. She was a news reporter back in the Bahamas. But the only job she could get here was taking care of oldpeople. My dad could only work construction. We moved to four different states just so they could find work. They always told me, ‘Just study hard in school and everything will work out fine.’ So that was my plan. I got all A’s up until the 11th grade– except for one B in math. My goal was to get top twenty in my class, then go to college, then get a degree, and then get a job. I realized the truth my senior year. My guidance counselor told me I couldn’t get a loan. I couldn’t get financial aid. Even if I could find a way to pay for school, I probably couldn’t get a job. I felt so mad at everyone. There were some kids who completely slacked off in school, but even they were going to college. I started having panic attacks. My dad told me not to worry. He called me a ‘doubting Peter.’ He invited all his friends over to a fish fry to help raise money. And he did get $3,000. But that wasn’t enough. So I searched really hard on the Internet and found the Dream.us scholarship. My mom was so excited when I got it. They’re paying for me to go to Queens College. Now my mom’s really scared again because DACA got revoked. She’s crying all the time at work. I try to tell her that no matter what happens, we’re not going to die. We just might have to start over.”

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

8

Fine, I will admit the truth. I do not wish to be the father I had, nor do I wish to be the father Marcel has come to loathe. Perhaps I am better as a myth. And Hope is better off without me.

10

Cat Grant Appreciation Week | day 7: free day

the hero’s support

- And you’ve been a critic, you’ve been a cheerleader and some say that you are a friend.
- Well, I would like to think so.

♡ The New Boruto Anime Ending Explained ♡

Just like the initial Naruto Gaiden anime ending, at first the new ending contains the forming of Sarada herself as a result of the deep connection between her parents.

Sasuke is represented by the purple line, while Sakura is represented by the pink line

And then, after the fusion of these two lines, a red line is now formed, which represents Sarada:

But then, everything else from the previous ending is skipped (Sarada’s doubts about her parentage, her tears, her initial distance from Sasuke and so on). Instead, now we only see Sarada slowly and calmly walking forward:

This is really meaningful and suggests the fact that all of Sarada’s doubts and uncertainties finally disappeared. She finally understood who her biological mother is, how much both of her parents love her and how much they also love each other. They’d do anything for their little princess and all of their actions are meant to protect her. Sarada is now finally aware of all of this.

After that, we see where Sarada has been aiming to arrive all along - to her parents, who are waiting for her:

What is extremely important is that both Sasuke and Sakura are depicted exactly in the colours that represented them at the beginning: purple for Sasuke and pink for Sakura. Both Sasuke and Sakura’s clothes have a shade of their respective colours (Sasuke’s shirt is purple, his vest is light purple and his pants are dark purple, while Sakura’s shirt and headband are depicted as dark pink). In addition, while Sakura’s hair itself is pink, Sasuke’s hair also has a purple tint. What’s more, Sarada’s shirt is red, just her representative line also is:

^ Furthermore, I would like to point out the fact that Sasuke, Sakura and Sarada are all placed exactly in the very same spot where all of their representative lines were also placed: Sasuke’s purple line was on the left, Sakura’s pink line was on the right and Sarada’s red line appeared in the middle as a result of the fusion of her parents’ lines.   

Then, Sakura and Sasuke reach their hands out to Sarada. In the initial Naruto Gaiden anime ending, Sarada was the one who reached for her parents’ hands and, while she did hold Sakura’s, she unfortunately couldn’t reach Sasuke’s, fact which symbolised that she didn’t feel she was close enough to Sasuke back then even though she really wished to be. Now, the situation changed completely and Sasuke is the one who is reaching for his little daughter’s hand, just like Sakura also is:

^ Also, unlike how it was in the previous ending in which Sasuke and Sakura’s faces were never fully visible, in this ending we can finally see their expressions entirely, fact which once again shows that all of Sarada’s doubts about her family completely disappeared and that she finally understood her parents’ relationship and how much both of them love her. 

Then, Sarada holds Sakura and Sasuke’s hands tightly. And what is even more important is that she is finally able to hold her parents’ hands simultaneously:

After that, we see the three Uchiha family members hand in hand, while the Uchiha Crest is pleasantly visible on both Sarada and Sakura’s backs: 

^ Once again, Sasuke is on the left just like the purple line was, Sakura is on the right just like the pink line was and Sarada is in the middle just like the red line was after the fusion of the first two lines. 

In the end, we see Sarada’s extremely joyful smile which is meant to show how happy she is now that she knows her family is her true family in every single sense of the word:

♡ This ending is incredibly meaningful and beautiful! ♡  

  • Kara: My parents created the deadly Medusa virus that is killing you, were extremely flawed, and attacked your planet.
  • Mon El: It's ok, you had no control over that. :) <3
  • Mon El: My parents are selfish and cold liars, I just wanted a fresh start with no prejudice, you showed me what it is like to be loving and selfless, I hate the person I was, the way of life on Daxam was horrible and I will never go back to that planet and their awful customs
  • Kara: Unforgivable.
Rivals? || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2238 words

Request by anon: hi, can you please do a peter parker x reader imagine where the reader is tony starks daughter or something and she and peter hate each other but they low key have sexual tension or something like that? and the imagine ends with them kissing or something? idk sorry if that didn’t make sense

No spoilers homie

Originally posted by peterbparkerr


Y/N Stark always wanted a normal life. She hated being known as Iron Man’s ​daughter. She hated not being a normal teenager. For her entire life, she was home schooled,being taught from the best in New York. So of course, she wanted to go to a high school, to have the experience of hating her teachers and falling in love.

The first day of freshmen year was strange at Midtown High, most people didn’t know who she was until she told them her name. Rumors had been going around about the infamous Y/N Stark was attending Midtown, but nobody thought of it to be true.

Teachers would kiss up to her, not wanting to face the wrath of her father, Tony Stark. Everyone wanted to be her friend by the Friday of her first week in high school, everyone but one person, Peter Parker. He hated how she got treated like royalty by the teacher and the students, especially Flash, who did anything to get her attention. He hated how her grades were as good as his. The whole school knew about their rivalry quickly into freshmen year.

After Peter got bitten by the radioactive spider that gave him his powers, he knew he had to do something with his ability. Like his Uncle said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” This only convinced him more that he should be out there, protecting the people of New York. He was also happy that he finally got something that Y/N didn’t have.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. When she was around him, he was captivated by her beauty. They would share glances in the hallway but would both quickly look away from embarrassment.

Y/N didn’t hate him, she tried to be nice to him. She didn’t like how her dad gave Peter all of his attention, but she understood it was for a good reason. The two teens were always battling for first place for everything such as science fairs and debates. They were always neck and neck, him beating her as much as she did him. But, she thought it was cute when Peter did little things like tap his fingertips on his desk when he was nervous or whenever he spoke, she was drawn to his lips. She thought Peter was cute in general.

Most people saw his ‘hatred’ for her as love masked with hate. Everyone thought that by the end of high school the two would be dating. Peter’s friends tried convincing him to talk to her, nicely, but he wouldn’t. Y/N’s friends tried to get the two smartest kids at Midtown High together, but it just failed.

“Hey Dad?” Y/N asked while she sat at the dinner table alone with her father. He looked up from his food, “Hmm?” He mumbled back to her, with food in his mouth.

“Can I go to a-a party tonight?” She questioned, playing with the food on her fork.

“Where is it?” Tony asked, stuffing food into his mouth. Y/N looked up at him, “Queens. In the suburbs. A lot of my friends are going.” She added.

Tony nodded his head, “Fine you can go.” Y/N looked at her dad, eyes wide. “Really?” She exclaimed.

“Yes. But no drinking,” He stated, pointing his finger at her but paused, “Okay. Minimal drinking.”

Y/N smiled widely, nodding her head muttering, “Yeah, yeah of course. Thank you.” She ran up to Tony and hugged him.

She left her chair and went to hug him. “Let me take you.” He said as he hugged her back. Y/N pulled away furrowed her eyebrows, slightly confused at the man, “Why?” Usually if Y/N had somewhere to be, Tony made someone else take her so the act was strange.

Tony smirked, “Come on, you’d be the coolest person there because I have sweet cars.” Y/N nodded her head, agreeing with him. “Okay, well I’m gonna go get ready.” She beamed, running up the stairs.


Tony pulled up to you’re friends house, music blaring and red solo cups already littering the ground. He looked at Y/N, wondering where all the time went. “Ugh, you’re growing up, guess it had to happen sooner or later,” He joked, making Y/N giggle.

“I’m gonna go, I’ll call you when it’s over, or text you if I’m staying the night, alright?” She asked, exiting the car. Some of the teens who were standing outside or just got dropped off were staring in shock. Tony Stark just dropped his teenage daughter off at a party in a, most likely, a very expensive car.

Y/N slammed the door shut, “Bye Dad!” She waved with a smile, waiting for him to drive away.Tony smiled at his daughter, bidding his farewell before speeding away.

“God, she irritates me. She would obviously have her rich daddy drive her here in a cool ass car just to make herself look good.” Peter groaned as he went inside with Ned.

“Or maybe he wanted to take his daughter to a high school party?” Ned suggested, realizing that the statement didn’t make much sense. The boys walked over to the drink table. Booze, booze, booze. Whatever. Peter soon found the fridge and got water, in a red cup so people wouldn’t call him so prude.

Y/N had found a couple of her friends to hang out with. They were already buzzed, she wanted to stay sober just to make sure her friends got home safely.

Halfway through the party, Flash, the host, shouted, “Yo, if anyone wants to play seven minutes in heaven, bring your ass over here!”

About half a dozen people followed him. Everyone at the party was either too drunk to car about his statement or didn’t want to play the game where they were locked in a closet with a stranger. “Come on, let’s go.” One of her friends exclaimed.

“Yeah let’s go.” Herr other friend yelled.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She shouted over the loud music. Her friends rolled their eyes and grabbed either of her arms, dragging her in Flash’s direction. The group of people who wanted to play were already there, sitting in a circle, around a bottle that was resting on a table. She looked at the faces of all the people, and was met with the grimace of Peter Parker.

Her friends found an open spot in the circle so naturally, Y/N sat with them, sitting diagonally across from Peter. “You all should know how the game works. But, to those of you who don’t [cough] Peter Parker [cough].” Flash boomed, making his friends laugh. Y/N felt bad for him, he didn’t deserve to be treated badly. No one does.

“Whoever wants to start, will spin the bottle. Whoever the bottle lands on, you have to go into that closet,” He said, pointing to a closet nearby, “for seven minutes with that person. You can do whatever you want in there cause it’ll be locked. After seven minutes I’ll open the door and yeah. Start the process over again with the person next to you. So, who’s first?”

It was about 4 rounds into the game, and Y/N was getting bored. But she was glad she didn’t have to go in yet. After a pair came out of the closet, with lipstick smeared all over their faces it was Peter’s turn. “Be cool about it, there are a lot of hot girls in this circle man.” Ned whispered when Peter spun the bottle. Peter nodded his head, agreeing with his friend.

The bottle spun slower and slower, Peter’s hands were starting to get clammy. The bottle stopped and he looked up from the green glass. The person sitting in front of it was none other than Y/N Stark. All the teenagers froze, shocked at what had happened. “I-I gotta go,” Peter mutter, standing up from his seat on one of the couches.

“Na-na-na-na no,” Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Flash, “You’re gonna go into that closet with your best friend Y/N.” Flash finished sarcastically, pulling Peter over to Y/N, before grabbing her arm and pushing them into the closet. Flash slammed the door closed, making the two flinch.

“Seven minutes starts now,” Flash shouted from behind the door, before walking away towards the group of teens.

It was quiet for about thirty seconds, the two both scared of talking to the other. There was enough space in the closet to leave you both a couple inches apart, but only a couple inches. “Um, I’m sorry you had to do this,” Y/N apologized sympathetically, “I should’ve never come to this stupid party.” She muttered the last part, shaking her head. Peter stayed silent, holding one arm with the other.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Y/N asked, desperate to know.

Peter sighed, “I-I don’t hate you. It’s just,” he paused, not knowing what to say, “I was so used to being the smartest kid in class and suddenly you show up, beating me in nearly everything. I guess I was just, jealous of what you had.” He admitted honestly, slightly frustrated. Looking down in between the two to look at his shoes. “You have everything in the world. You have a lot of money, a rich dad, and a bunch of friends.You’re fucking perfect. I don’t have anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologized again, feeling bad for him. She started playing with her thumbs, “But, I’m not perfect, I hated what I had. My rich dad gives you more attention now than he gives me because of the whole, superhero thing.” She whispered the last part, not knowing if anyone was listening, “My friends only want to be friends with me because of my name and the money I have. It sucks, ya know?” Y/N finished, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

“I, I didn’t know you felt that way,” He said, regretting the way he has treated this girl for the past couple of years. He moved forward, closing the space between them, moving his hands to cup her cheeks, brushing away her tears with his thumbs.

“You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I didn’t know what things were like for you. I am so sorry I was so rude to you.” He apologized, leaning his forehead against hers. Y/N reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly.

“You didn’t know, it’s alright.” She whispered, her breath fanning against his cheeks, and a small, understanding smile on her lips.

“But it’s not alright,” Peter murmured, rubbing one of his thumbs on her cheek. Y/N closed her eyes for a second, “If you kiss me, I’ll forgive you.” He looked at her slightly shocked. But he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right before leaning in and capturing her lips with his. She closed her eyes once again, putting her arms around his neck and her hands into his hair.

His lips were soft, and hers tasted like candy. Her nose brushed against his cheek, but the act went unnoticed. She started playing with his hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Unbeknownst to Peter and Y/N, Flash shouted that the seven minutes were up. He moved towards the wooden door, not hearing anything coming from the other side due to the loud music. He went to unlock the door. When it opened, he froze. “Holy shit!” Flash shouted making the two kissing immediately pull apart, out of breath.

Peter had a blush rising on his face, mimicking Y/N’s. Most of the people who were playing were curious at what was happening, a crowd forming around the door. “They were just making out!” Flash shouted with a smirk on his lips, making the blush on Peter and Y/N’s face deepen.

“Alright Parker!” Someone in the crowd of people yelled, making Y/N stifle a laugh. Peter glared at her playfully. The crowd of people began to fade away, Flash telling the two to get out of the closet for the next round of people to go in.

Peter and Y/N walked to a place in the house where there wasn’t a herd of people. “So, do you want to go to the movies with me sometime?” Peter stammered, nervous about what her answer might be. Y/N smiled, “I would love too, Peter. Now, go enjoy the rest of the party. I have to go deal with my drunk friends.” She chuckled starting to back away. 

Peter nodded his head understandingly, “I’ll text you then. Yeah?” 

Y/N tilted her heard to the side slightly. “You better. You don’t want to make a Stark angry.” She said with a chuckle, walking back towards her friends.

Peter fist bumped the air, before whispering to himself, “I have a date….. awesome.”

Part Two

4

“I would like to think that the character stays somewhat consistent. Um, there are times when I feel like- when I feel like it’s not quite consistent, and I feel like what i’m saying is a little bit false to the character, and i’m trying to find a way to justify it.” [video]

Let's talk about Katie McGrath

Katie McGrath or as a lot of us think of her the queen of the gays, at sdcc I was expecting her to possibly call out the fans of supercorp

You know why because a some fan hacked her brother and crossed a huge line. But you know what she did she understood that it was not all of the fandom. she understood that we were so sorry that her brother went through that

Katie no matter what has stood by her LGBTQ fans and supported them, no matter the ships she was happy that we felt loved and we felt wanted in the fandom. This woman is amazing to the fandom

This woman stood up for the fandom when everyone else was mocking it, this woman validates us at every turn. She may not be seen much in the media but she is seen by us the fans. And I can not say one negative thing about her. She has done nothing but love and support us and because of that I will always support her.

Katie McGrath is the best person the fandom could have asked for and she is the one who constantly makes us feel at home in the fandom

7

On the Coastal Tip of Jamaica, actress Candice Patton stands barefoot in a sheer yellow dress before settling turquoise waters. Her arms sway back and forth as the Caribbean air billows through the thigh-high slit. She gives the camera a small smile as the sun radiates off her skin and the tide tiptoes towards the shore. The Instagram boomerang I’m glancing at has now been viewed over 200,000 times by her 1.2 million-user following.

It’s mid-June; a median between two milestones in Candice’s life - two weeks before her 29th birthday, and two weeks after the Season 3 finale of The Flash aired in homes nationwide. The superhero fiction show, based on the DC Comics character of the same name, stars Candice as Iris West, opposite Grant Gustin as the titular hero, Barry Allen. In the last three years, The Flash has garnered over 15 awards, with Candice herself most recently winning a Saturn Award for “Best Supporting Actress on Television”. It makes sense that CBS Watch! Magazine would send her over to the Caribbean for a photoshoot. 

The CW star calls me from her residence in Los Angeles on a Friday afternoon, after her trip in Jamaica. I expect her to sound exhausted from her jet setting, but she’s not. To my astoundment, there’s a lot on her mind. I come to realize that, unlike Iris West, Candice Patton is equipped with a power of her own.

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9

@lightningeranet and @dadefensenet event: lightning era da girls - susan bones

“after the death eaters’ escape, susan told harry that she understood how he felt, knowing that the person who had murdered his family was at large and constantly being asked questions about it. harry finally had someone who could almost relate to his state of mind.”

shoutout to nb lesbians who feel like no girl is gonna want you bc you’re nonbinary and you don’t fulfill the Lesbian Criteria™ you’re as much of a lesbian as anyone else and you’re gonna find your girl don’t worry ab it

Neighbors


Inspired by Shawn’s recent Instagram story and this line:

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”


She sighed, looking around the mess that is her new apartment. Her back hurt, her arms were burning and she was so exhausted, she felt like passing out.

“Where do these boxes go, hun?” her dad asked, holding up a box with “books” written on it.

“Just put those in my bedroom, thanks,” she replied, taking a sip from the beer her best friend had handed her.

Moving into your new fancy place in Toronto could be really awesome but also very tiring and she groaned, seeing all the boxes in her living room she had to unpack.

Her best friend put an arm around her shoulders and as if she could read her friend’s mind she said: “Hey, the view makes this bearable, don’t you think?”

She grinned at her friend, squinting her eyes a little because the sun is shining bright on the balcony. “Yeah, true. The view made me buy this!”

“So… when’s the housewarming party?” her friend asked, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

The girl shrugged. “I have to put actual furniture here first. And clean up. And decorate.”

“Yes, yes, Miss to-do-list, I get it. It has to be perfect, I know. As always,” her friend stated, rolling her eyes.

They laughed as they go back inside and she knew she’s nowhere near done yet but she already feels at home. It’s a warm feeling. And she knew this is where she belongs.


Three weeks later

She’s on her way to the elevator, carrying a bag with groceries and another shopping bag from H&M because she just couldn’t resist buying that cute dress and the sweater she really needed as the concierge calls her name.

“Excuse me, Miss!”

She turns around. “Yes?”

“Could I ask you for a favor, please?”

She smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a parcel for… um,” he looks at the box, “Mister Shawn Mendes. Your neighbor. I know he hasn’t been home for quite a while but could you just take this for me? I have no space to store this and I would have asked Mrs. Johnson from 310 c but she would just forget about it, you know how she is…”

He smiles at her apologetically and she nods again. “Yeah, I can take it. I mean… I haven’t seen my neighbor yet and I don’t know him but I guess it’s a nice way to say hello”

“He’s very nice. You’ll get along perfectly,” the concierge says with a smirk. “You are both young and so hardworking! And both charming young things.”

She smiles back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that and um… thanks!”

She takes the parcel, briefly looking at it in the elevator. It says “Armani headquarters” on it and it got sent all the way from Milan. She raises her eyebrows a little.

Must be nice being a superstar. Getting free designer stuff all the time.

She felt a bit insecure when she found out who her neighbor was. 

Living door to door with a teenage pop sensation slash superstar could be a bit frightening, knowing how famous he really was.

She dreaded the thought of having lunatic fangirls standing in front of her door, screaming and shouting Shawn’s name but so far it has been very quiet and she hasn’t seen him yet as he was probably busy being the good looking popstar he was, traveling the world, making girls scream wherever he went.

She didn’t really get the hype. 

Her best friend freaked out when she found out who the mysterious neighbor was, making her want to move in with her. 

Or camping on Shawn Mendes’ doormat.

But the girl living in the condo next to him, didn’t get too excited. Sure, he was good looking and talented and cute and all of that.

But she didn’t understand how people could scream and shout, seeing him, shoving phones into his face for a selfie when he was just a regular person who happened to sing and play the guitar.

She didn’t understand until she saw him. In person.

It was a Saturday and she knew he was home.

There were footsteps in the hall, male voices, sounds of a guitar and doors shutting and she took a deep breath, brushed her hair and ringed the bell.

She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, heck, she was in her gym shorts and a loose band shirt she got at a concert some time ago. And she was wearing fuzzy socks.

Not sexy at all.

And she regretted her outfit choice as soon as she saw him, standing in the doorframe, looking like a Greek God or something. A light stubble, messy brown curls sticking up slightly, wearing black pants and a white t shirt that fitted him well and as he looked at her, eyes a bit sleepy and a wry smile spreading across his plump lips, she had to swallow thickly.

He blinked twice.

She looked down at the parcel and up at him.

“Um… hi!”

“Hi,” he said in a deep, raspy voice, smiling down at her.

“I’m your new neighbor and I wanted to say hi and I have this parcel for you and um… yeah, hi…” she rambled, blushing a bit because he was looking at her in a way that made her nervous.

He was checking her out. Briefly looking her up and down and she squared her shoulders a little.
His gaze rested on her bare legs for a little bit too long and he bit his bottom lip in a way that made her heart flutter and race and she felt hot suddenly.

“Oh, thank you so much!” he smiled brightly, taking the parcel from her. It looked tiny in his hands. “And nice to meet you,” he added, stretching his hand out. “I’m Shawn”

She shook his hand, saying her name.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He leaned against the doorframe, obviously not in a hurry to close the door.

“I just hope I don’t bother you with my music. I’m working on something right now and it can get a bit… loud,” he said with a smug grin, dipping his head a little, after nodding into the direction of his condo.

He was towering over her, playing with the parcel in his huge hands and she looked at his long fingers, noticing a silver ring on his middle finger. He was wearing a black watch that looked cool and expensive and she pressed her lips together. She understood it now. The hype. The fangirls.

He looked like a teenage dream. Almost as if he wasn’t real.

Too handsome for his own good.

She looked up at him. “No, um, all good. I don’t mind.”

He gives her a crooked smile, licking his sinfully plump lips. “Okay, good. Just tell me if it’s too loud… and if you need anything I’m right here,” he said in that soft voice of his she already found so endearing.

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Yeah, thanks! Goes both ways… the if you need anything thing… not the music thing, obviously…”

She blushed and he smiled at her, running his fingers through his curls. “Yeah,” he replied, never breaking eye contact and she felt like dying on that door mat of his.

“Okay, so I should try this on, I guess,” he frowned, looking at the parcel and she nodded.

“Must be something nice… coming from Italy,” she smiled and suddenly regretted her words. “I only saw that it’s from Milan, I didn’t…”

He laughed and it sounded like the most beautiful thing she has ever heard.

“It’s okay! All good. Yeah, they send me awesome stuff now… it’s just really cool because I actually hate going shopping,” he chuckled, blushing himself.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t relate. Shopping is my favorite hobby.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re a girl… must be natural, eh?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. So cliché.”

He smirked and she looked down, avoiding his burning gaze. “Okay, um… I’ll leave you alone now… so you can try your new stuff on and yeah…”

He smiled. “Okay, yeah, see you.”

“See you,” she breathed and tried to walk gracefully back into her condo.

Don’t trip, don’t trip. Don’t mess up.

She exhaled loudly, closing the door after her and let out a little groan.
She reached for her phone because she really needed to talk to her best friend now and she quickly typed OMG CALL ME into her phone, pressing send.


Shawn sighed in frustration, looking into his empty fridge.

Living alone was not as cool as he thought it would be. His clothes were dirty and scattered on the floor in front of his washing machine, there was nothing to eat and he missed his mom.

Coming back from tour to his new posh place felt good at first but now all he wanted was to go back to Pickering to eat his mom’s roast and he started to feel jealous of his little sister who got to sleep in a freshly made bed and eat home cooked food all the time.

He groaned, looking at the stove. There was no salt. He had used everything his mom had given to him and he looked down at the chicken he was trying to make taste somewhat eatable.

He bit down on his bottom lip, turning down the John Mayer song he was listening to.
He could go to the supermarket and actually buy food – and get mobbed in the process.

Or he could ask her.

He was pretty positive that she had salt in her perfectly tidy condo with a full fridge and nice flowers everywhere. She looked like a girl who had flowers in her apartment.

And nice pillows.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Those long, lean legs. Her nice ass, he got a good look at when she walked back to her condo.

The outlines of her obviously nicely shaped breasts through that grey band shirt and he licked his lips again.

He was feeling frustrated, coming back from tour. He was needy, antsy somehow and he had felt hot and bothered, closing the door after receiving his parcel.

Leaning against the door he had to cup himself through his pants adjusting his cock that had started to stir against his boxers that were getting all tight around his dick as she had turned around and he had watched her hips sway slightly.

There were thoughts in his head. Thoughts he shouldn’t have about a girl he didn’t know.
Inappropriate thoughts crossing his mind. About her. Naked. Moaning his name. Panting. Legs spread and back arched.

He tugged at his hair in desperation. He shouldn’t feel like this about a girl he just met but the way she blushed and rambled made him want to be dominant with her. Be rather rough. Take her from behind maybe because he loved that position and she would feel him deep inside of her.

He felt guilty, thinking that. She probably had a boyfriend anyway. And Shawn would leave for Brazil soon. So that was that.

He hesitated a bit before knocking on her door. But he took a deep breath, fixed his hair and knocked.

His heart started to race, hearing footsteps.

She opened the door and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Hi!” he said, his voice cracking a little. “So this thing about needing something came sooner than expected,” he said with an amused huff and she smiled up at him.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Well, I just came home from tour and the only thing that is in my fridge is some mustard and disgusting smelling milk and I wanted to cook something but I ran out of salt,” he frowned a little, his cheeks turning pink. “That’s why I was wondering if - um – if I could borrow some?”

She nodded, giving him a beautiful genuine smile and his heart did a stupid little jumpy thing he didn’t know it could make until then.

“Sure! I got you.”

She turned around and he was about to drool. He shamelessly stared at her ass and he didn’t want to be like this. Lusting over her like some horny teenager. But he couldn’t help himself.
He totally had the hottest neighbor in all of Canada.

She came back from the kitchen. “There you go,” she smiled and his fingertips brushed over hers as he took the small package from her.

“Thank you so much! You saved me from starving! I mean I could always order pizza but I’m trying to impress my mom.”

She let out a soft giggle. “Good luck with the cooking, it smells like you burned something though.”

He looked over his shoulder in an alarmed way. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I should go look after that! Thanks again!”

And with that he ran back into his apartment, trying to save his dinner.


She looks at her freshly baked cupcakes and knows that there is no way she would eat all of that. She had baked too many cupcakes and couldn’t stop thinking about knocking on his door.

She found it way too cute how he had nothing in his fridge and here she was, practically surrounded by food.

That’s why she takes two cupcakes, arranging them on a plate. This time she is prepared. With gloss on her lips, wearing her favorite bra and a nice t shirt, denim jeans and flip flops. All wavy hair and bare tanned legs. She knocks. And waits.

Maybe he isn’t home.

She is about to turn around as she hears footsteps. And there he is.

Shirtless.

Fucking shirtless, only wearing some sweatpants he must have thrown over in a hurry.

“Hey,” he pants, looking at her, slightly confused.

“Hi! Oh. I’m sorry. Didn’t want to disturb!” she says, no, gasps.

He looks almost photoshopped. Ripped abs, defined v line, pecks and arms, defined and muscular. 

She swallows thickly, looking down.

He looks over his shoulder, an alarmed look on his face. “You aren’t! All good. Can I - er - help you?”

“No, no. I just baked those and have some left over and I thought you might like some?” she says tentatively, holding up the little plate.

He smiles in a genuine way, looking very grateful. But still tense.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you very much!”

He presses his lips together, hearing the high-pitched, female voice coming from his bedroom.

“Shawn? Who is that?”

A blonde girl comes up behind him, looking like she’s on the cover of Sport’s Illustrated or something, wearing nothing but a large men’s shirt.

And now she knows where his shirt is.

On some blonde bombshell with a D cup.

Silicone probably.

“Oh,” she squeals. “Cupcakes? Awesome!” the blonde girl grabs one, grinning at Shawn.

“Who’s that, Shawn? Your neighbor?”

Shawn looks flustered and his cheeks are red. As well as his ears.

“Yeah… that’s my neighbor.” He awkwardly introduces them and he shakes his head slightly - desperate -  at his pretty neighbor who looks shell shocked with her plate in hand.

As if he wanted to say no no she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just an one night stand. Meaningless. I swear. I was thinking about you all the time. Imagining you under me. Because you drive me crazy.

“Um-well,” she blurts out. “I should… leave, I’m sorry. Bye,” she hands Shawn the plate as if it had burned her and almost runs into her condo, leaving an embarassed Shawn behind.

He closes the door, groaning in frustration. That was not what he had planned. This shouldn’t have happened.

His one night stand should have left hours ago but she was clingy and annoying and Shawn was too polite to kick her out. But it was time now.

The blonde girl is nibbling on the icing of the cupcake and Shawn picks her clothes up, holding them up.

“Hun, I really should work now, sorry but… you know…” he says, sounding annoyed.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I see,” she says, sounding ice cold. “I’ll leave. I get it.”

He sighs, turning around so that she could get dressed.

“Bye, Shawn! And don’t ever call me again! Asshole!” she spits out, leaving his place and he slams the door shut. 

“Yeah, bye” he snorts angrily. Just to huff a frustrated “fuck!” afterwards, letting himself fall onto his couch, hitting a pillow in frustration.


He slams his hand against her door. But she won’t open. Of course not.

“Hey! I know you’re home! Come on! Please! Open the door!” he yells.

He rings the bell again. Over and over until it starts to get annoying.

She opens the door with an annoyed huff.

“What?” she hisses. “I’m working on a paper and I need to concentrate. If you would stop ringing my doorbell- that would be nice. Thanks,” and she proceeds to slam the door into his face.

He’s quick, sliding a huge foot into the doorframe.

“No! Wait!”

She rolls her eyes at him, opening the door again.

“Your plate! Here!” he awkwardly holds it up, handing it over to her. “Tasted so good, really! Thank you!”

“Mhm,” she breathes out in an annoyed way. She isn’t exactly mad at him. She’s mad at herself. For believing that she would actually have the tiniest bit of a chance with this guy who looked like a young god and lived the superstar lifestyle. Fucking blonde bombshells included.

“She isn’t - that wasn’t - that girl is not my girlfriend,” he blurts out.

“I don’t care, Shawn”

“Okay. Just wanted to make that clear. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he frowns, brows furrowed, curls messy and bopping a little.

“What do you want to hear? I don’t care about your love life or whatever… we don’t even know each other.”

She looks him in the eye, looking dead serious.

He licks his lip nervously and steps closer so that he towers over her, hands on either side of the doorframe. He looks down at her and gulps, tilting his head a little. 

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” he asks, feeling his cheeks get bright red as well as the top of his ears and he shifts his weight from one foot to another.

She tilts her chin up a bit.

“I have to see about that - I actually am busy right now.”

She sounds distant and he sighs.

“Come on… please… I’d love to get to know you.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. And he wants to kiss her so bad. Part those pretty lips with his and slip his tongue into her mouth. 

He wants, wants, wants her.

“Really?” she says, barely audible.

She knew there were girls out there who would sell their souls for this. A date with Shawn Mendes.

He nods. Eyes dark.

“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t have a different girl every night,” he says quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking. That I’m some stupid teenage star who has a lot of hook ups and gets drunk in fancy bars but I’m not!” he adds. “I’m a regular dude. Really.”

She shrugs. “I don’t really think ‘bout you so you’re good.”

His face falls. “O-okay, right, yeah. I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

His shoulders hang a bit as well as his head and he wants to turn around but she holds him back. “No wait! Sorry, that was kinda rude. I’m just- I mean… coffee would be nice,” she breathes out and his face lights up again.

It frustrates her how freaking adorable he looks like that, smiling, looking like a lovesick puppy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s just coffee, right?”

“Just coffee,” he grins.

And he’s already so involved in this. He loves the chase. The thrill. And he can’t wait for what’s to come. 

Family Values

She had her dorm room to herself. Not standard policy for EU but when your family have been patrons long enough to have their own scholarship fund you get a bit of leeway. That and the last member of her creepy family to enrol went through five roommates in the first month. The administration thought it best to nip that in the bud rather than gamble this one would be less “eccentric” than her forebears. They were glad they did when she moved in and brought all her luggage inside a coffin. Why are the wealthy always the kooky ones?

In her case the answer was obvious to those in the know; Her family estate was in a thin spot smaller but just as fragile as the University. She had grown up on top of the fractured boundaries between realities.
As a result she knew all the mysterious Rules when she got here; Which made it even more spooky when she broke them constantly. She would go out without iron or salt, she wandered the forest at night, and she always…ALWAYS used her True Name.

No one understood how she hadn’t been Taken yet; Other than Them of course, They got the message loud and clear. That name told of a long and ancient story of love, war, death, and truce, long lost to history; Human history at least. However the ending was short and simple, “This one is off limits”.
She knew this well enough, she didn’t need salt, iron and noxious herbs, just her name.
She was an Addams; Family was protection enough.

x

I’m still not over the fact that Kat bought an 11k first class plane ticket just to make sure Adena was okay, let Adena know they were in this together, asked her out on a date, was super adorable and excited about the date, held hands literally nonstop, took her to the first class lounge, built her a pillow fort, got her food for her, and then finger banged her on a mezzanine until she came i’m so alive