and you know how much i love drawing in my little notebook

Splash

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Request: @itsanerdlife​ said she wanted bathtub smut based on that one gifset of clark getting in the bath with lois, and i was happy to deliver <3 (I hope you like it!)

A/N: so this was fun guys…ALSO the nerf gun thing in this is based on a real video i saw but i can’t find it for the life of me and i’m so mad…so if you know where it is i will literally love you forever…that’s all. also sorry this is so late…. :( also (also) pls ignore the awful title i am shit at them

Warnings: nsfw, bathtub smut, nerf guns

Words: 2668

Tags:@yourtropegirl @daybreak96

The front door to your and Steve’s shared apartment slams shut behind you, and you lean against it for a second.  “Fuck,” you curse quietly, pulling the disgustingly uncomfortable shoes off and tossing them into the middle of the floor.  You drop your purse and jacket on the floor, knowing Steve will give you those “eyebrows of disappointment,” but you were honestly too tired to care.  You trudge through the living room, dead on your feet and cursing Stark for being so demanding.  Working with the Avengers was exciting, but God was it hard on your feet.

You finally reach your room, where Steve is sitting against the headboard of your bed, files and papers spread out around him. He glances up at you and smiles. “Hey, Princess.  How was your day?”

Keep reading

Zack totally teased the two of them (individually) to get together when he found out the feelings were mutual meanwhile Jason is just tired of all the gushing he gets from Kim about the yellow ranger

Jason: “Kimberly Ann Hart, I swear to god if you don’t ask her out, I’ll-”
Kimberly: “What? Ask her out yourself? She’s not into you. Not even into guys in general. What are you going to threaten me with now, Scott? And how dare you full name me.”

Trini reverted back to using earphones so they could listen to music together, but someone always moved their head too much where the other’s bud always came out so she decided to get a splitter so they could still listen together, but have their individual earphones.

Zack and Jason (reluctantly) bet on who’s going to get their ass wiped during sparring between the girls during training each day because (one of them gets a little too sidetracked)

Their study dates are 20% flashcards and 80% ”if i fail this test tomorrow, you can tell the teacher why, Tri!” “that i couldn’t keep my hands to myself after i finally found your ticklish spot which took so long to find but it was so worth it though it may have resulted in a hole in your wall because you tried blindly kicking at me?”

Trini secretly loves when Kim plays with her hair, especially when she’s had a stressful day
she’ll collapse into her lap and let her do her thing, letting her caress her hair and gently scratch at her scalp

Kim watches her girlfriend go from grumpy cat to lazy sleepy content cat (she totally awes at the accidental purr that comes out)
Kim is the only one that’s allowed to unbraid/braid Trini’s hair

Here’s Kim’s words of advice and reassuring comments to Trini introducing herself as her girlfriend for the first time “Breathe. You’re going to do fine. You’ll be great. Just think about something calming, soothing, relaxing.
“Like what?”
“Think about me. Naked.”

Kim willing to fight anyone who insults or harms Trini in anyway and becoming furiously protective

Trini trying to bite back her words of anger and hatred when Amanda and her minions make a harsh snide comment to Kimberly knowing she won’t be able to stop any sort of aggression once it starts

Comforting each other about their
past and current home life

Instead of passing generic notes, they’re either playing tic tac toe, telling one another jokes or Kim drawing mini comics and Trini attempting to continue the story with her stick figures

Kim getting jealous when this new girl starts flirting with Trini and because this oblivious gay can’t tell the difference between a friendly compliment and I’m-trying-to-ask-you-out-on-a-date compliment, she unknowingly flirts back

Trini getting jealous when Jason asks if he can talk to Kimberly in private, when Kimberly cancels their plans because she promised to hang out with him and when Jason let’s it slip that Kim visits him in his room at night to talk about things that are troubling instead of talking to her

Kim volunteering to babysit Trini’s brothers with her
Discussing/”Making Up” stories about the Power Rangers with them
Trading embarrassing stories about Trini
Shyly but trying to act intimidating as they interrogate Kim to see if she’s good enough for their sister
Innocently asking if Kim and Trini are dating
Teasingly throwing the girlfriend word around the girls
Board Games
Movie Nights
Them and Kim getting competitive with one another during video games
Talking about their favorite superheroes as they show her their action figures
Questioning her if she believes in aliens

Kim sitting next to Trini or in front of her during Biology so they can reach under the desk and hold hands, y’know whisper in one another’s ears like losers, doodle in each other’s margin on their notebooks

Sneaking into each other’s rooms through the window

Both calming the other down after a nightmare
Kim stealing all of Trini’s flannels, jackets, hoodies. (Beanies are harder to get though she managed to steal her yellow one and replaced it before she was caught.)

Trini occasionally borrowing one of Kim’s shirts/tops

neck kisses
shoulder kisses
forehead kisses
nose kisses
cheek kisses
stomach kisses

Trini staring at Kim’s lips when she talks
Kim glancing at Trini’ lips when they’re sitting or standing too close

lip bites

Playfully bickering on who gets to be the big spoon always even though they switch it up all the time

Being able to keep up with each other’s snark, wit, sass, and sarcasm
Sly smiles
Knowing smug smirks
Suggestive glances
Amused arched eyebrows
Challenging one another

Trini resting her head on Kim’s shoulder

Kim resting her head atop of Trini’s

Trying out different cafés, bakeries, patisseries, coffee shops and learning and eventually knowing each other’s orders at all of them

jokes, innuendos, pick up lines, teasing, banter
eye rolls all the time
exaggerated eyelash batting
Kim flirtatiously winking
pleading pouting lips
Fake offended gasp
hugs from behind

Kim leaning her chin on top of Trini’s head or her shoulder

both being easily whipped and persuaded/convinced by the other

whispering sweet nothings before saying something dumb and stupid and playfully insultful to get rid of the cheesy, sappy, sentiment

Trini judging Kim’s music tastes and both of them trying to find a common genre

Finding places with the best views of the town/taking each other on random adventures

Late night car rides with the windows down

They frequent the cliff edge that overlooks the lake (swimming hole?) for a good view of the lights

If Trini can convince Kim to go hike up the mountain together in the morning, they watch the sunrise, but usually they watch the sunset after school/training

Drive In Movie Theater which either results in Kim being totally invested and Trini taking a nap or having a popcorn catching contest

Sharing Milkshakes

They always share the last donut and have a showdown on who gets the last piece

Taking selfies in those In N Out hats when they go out for burgers

Trini finds Kim singing into a hairbrush and dancing around her room one day as she blasts Top 40 Pop Songs
It takes roughly about 15 seconds to get her to begrudgingly join in
But she’s just in awe at the girl’s voice and so is Kim when Trini starts singing
They’re both panicking

Racing one another just for fun (of course where no one will see)

Snowball fights

Behind the bleachers, rooftop, girl’s bathroom on the second floor or in a quiet vacant hidden corner in the library is where you’ll find them alone ditching class and being unusually couple-ish (The janitor’s closet was just downright disgusting and smelled of cheap chlorine bleach and sanitizer even with their superhuman powers, chemicals still had some effect on their body)

Squeezing each other’s hand for comfort or reassurance along with rubbing their thumb over one another’s knuckles

Trusting one another more than anyone

taking turns resting their head on the other’s chest

Trini resting her head in Kimberly’s lap as she’s sprawled out on the couch

Zack giving Kimberly the shovel talk and Jason giving Trini the shovel talk even though they care for both girls
It’s a ridiculously lovable somewhat annoying act

Trini calling Kim “Princess”

kissing one another’s palms and wrists

both being in utter awe that someone as amazing and beautiful wants to date them

rubbing soothing circles on one another’s hands when the other gets nervous/anxious

Kim tracing abstract patterns on Trini’s back when she’s sleeping

long walks or hiking up those mountain trails
talking to each other all night and even when one falls asleep the other doesn’t hang up the phone, lovesick idiots

When Kim asks Trini what she did to get into detention this time, if she isn’t sending a death glare towards Zack and groaning like she’s suffering through hell and back, she just gives a sheepish smile and a nonchalant shrug because she’s not going to admit that she volunteers to go to this and the teacher could care less

Taking photographs

Kim’s mirror is covered in polaroids and Trini has a secret album

Trini finding out that Kim can do an absolutely believable flawless British accent (you figure out the details)

Kim mouthing the lines to movies and tv shows and Trini’s not even paying attention to the screen anymore like always

God forbid, they have hidden poetry/song books about one another that neither of have told them about.

Tickle Fights

Kim complimenting Trini all the time just to see her blush

The only time they will ever carry each other without being a stumbling blushing mess or arguing over the position in carrying is when one of them is injured or asleep

Star Gazing on top of Kim’s roof

They totally had the same idea of kissing in the rain even though they both know it’s a fricking cliche because a) they can’t get sick and b) they’re saps and hopeless romantics even if they won’t admit it

Having a snowman contest

Kim pushing Trini into the pool and Trini pulling her in with her

Kim booping Trini on the nose and Trini is just bewildered

They take turns bringing each other drinks and donuts for breakfast during the school week (Jason scolds them about needing to eat a healthier breakfast)

They meet up before first period then always text each other before their next classes/during passing periods/hallway traffic jam to complain or give them a heads up about things instead of walking one another to class

Stealing from another’s food during lunch
though it turns more into a game of sorts

Whoever gets out earlier from class waits by the other’s locker after school

Let’s just say the Rangers can’t get drunk so they inevitably try to drink themselves to death, but a body shot and a lap dance ensues

“Do you trust me?”
“Not with my water bottle and definitely not over a cliff.”

“If she goes, I go.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s just your way of telling me, you love me. I’ve cracked that code a long time ago, Hart.”

“Will you please just shut up for a second and stop doubting yourself and listen to me! You’re beautiful.”

“Why did we agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
“Did they just tell us to go fuck in a closet?”
“The irony hasn’t escaped me.”

“I hate this town. I hate these faces. I’m just so tired of everything, except you. Never you.”

“You’re not short,you’re just tiny.”

“I don’t remember falling in love with you. I just remember you grabbing onto my hand and squeezing way too hard when we were about to be pummeled to our deaths by a train and in that terrifying second I couldn’t process anything except a single thought which was, “You’re dying just admit you’re gay and pretty girls make you weak.”

“You’ve been shutting everyone out that genuinely cares about you”
“Not everyone, not you.”

“Do you think the world could suddenly end on a night as quiet as this?”

“Let me ask you something. Do you think there’s such a thing as a perfect day?”
“What?”
“A perfect day. Start to finish. When nothing terrible or sad or ordinary happens. Do you think it’s possible?”

“We spend our whole lives stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how we’ll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps us going, but we’ll never do it. We just use the future to escape the present. Truth is, we’ll never actually be rid of Angel Grove, we’re still Power Rangers and just like any other superhero we’ll end up staying exactly where we are. Unfortunately our home isn’t a city.” “Well, at least it has you.”

“You were not meant to simply be pretty. You were meant to fight back, so get up and face it.”

“What’s inside is what matters. You are so much smarter than they give you credit for.”

“I am aware that I am less than some people prefer me to be, but most people are unaware that I am so much more than what they see.”

“I feel lost inside myself.”

“I’m not perfect, but I’m original.”

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway.”

“The happiest people, don’t have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything.”

“Perhaps, I want nothing more than to fall asleep next to you.”

“My life will end someday and so will yours, hopefully we die roughly around the same age, not that I want you to die ever but I don’t want you suffering of heartbreak like some depressing Hallmark movie so just kiss me anytime.”

“Thank you, for making me feel less alone.”

“I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand from their level of perception.”

“You are alive. You are not a sad story.”

“I love you, but don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first.” Bullshit.
I have never loved myself.
But you
Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.”

“Why did you do that?”
“Because I love you.”

“I would never let anybody or anything hurt you.”

“I don’t know for sure what I’m feeling. I don’t think you know exactly what you’re feeling either. This is all new or maybe we’ve felt this way for quite sometime, but refused to acknowledge them. What I do know is that, whatever mutual feelings we have for one another is not going to jeopardize our friendship.We’re not going to let that happen.”

“Just talk to me.”

“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m crazy, remember?”

Kim noticing that Trini has bad social anxiety especially when she’s seated or standing in a public closed in crowd so she always makes it a priority to get seats near the windows in the corner or a seat where Trini’s back is covered
Kim trying to learn Spanish on her own not just to impress Trini (that’s just an added bonus) but to make it easier for Trini’s brothers and dad to communicate with her. She manages to even impress Trini’s mom and manages to have forge somewhat of an acquaintanceship, but she’s still wary.

They’re in love, that’s all I’ve got to say.

Study organization- notebooks

I love stationery of all kinds, especially notebooks. And when you’re planning on studying, of course you need notebooks for taking notes and practicing! In this post, I’ll talk a little about my notebooks.


What kind(s) of notebook(s) do you use?

My personal preference is for spiral notebooks. I used to use notebooks that just opened like normal books, but they never liked to stay flat and they took up too much space on my desk. It’s funny because I used to hate spirals back when I was younger and way into drawing because the pages were more free to move against each other which led to more smudging, but I love spirals so much for note taking. They lay flat with no problem, which is the biggest thing for me. The spiral does get in the way of my hand sometimes, but it’s a minor annoyance.

I also consider the quality of the paper when buying my notebooks. It doesn’t have to be super high quality, but I just can’t deal with paper the quality of standard US looseleaf. It’s too thin and, more importantly, the surface is too rough. Paper with too rough a surface has led to the early death of too many of my pens—if you use fine-tip pens, size 0.5 or lower, and find they stop writing before the ink runs out—little bits from poor-quality paper probably got into the tip and ruined it. The paper I like the most feels a little bit weighty and nice and smooth!

Hardcover or softcover is also a choice to make! I use both, types:

Left to right- hardcover lined notebook, softcover lined notebook, softcover 원고지 squared paper notebook


How many notebooks do you use?

I have three main types of notebooks! I’ll go over each type:

Grammar notebooks

My grammar notebooks are all hardcover. I use them to collect grammar explanations and other important notes. I write them as cleanly as possible and even use my many colorful highlighters to make them look a little nicer. If I need to know about a grammar point that I have already learned, I open my grammar notebook for the right language and find it. This way, I don’t have to remember which textbook or source I saw a certain grammar point or explanation in—if it’s important, I write it down in my grammar notebook! So, my grammar notebooks are mashups of multiple texts and sources. These are for reference only; I don’t do any practice or extra writing in them. Nothing but the facts!


Practice notebooks

My practice notebook is where I write down definitions of new words I learned, practice sentences for my vocab flashcard words, breakdowns of articles I’ve studied on my Chinese reader apps… I guess calling it a “practice notebook” makes its purpose pretty self-explanatory. It’s nothing special; I write quickly and messily in it, and when it gets full, I can just throw it in the recycling bin and start a fresh one. My practice notebook is a softcover spiral.


Chinese article notebook

Korean squared paper—or I guess any squared paper—is wonderful for writing Chinese characters. Once I’ve encountered an article in a Chinese reader app and broken it down in my practice notebook, I rewrite it cleanly in my article notebook so I can easily find and read it again later.


I don’t always have all of my notebook types with me. If I plan on studying grammar, I will bring the correct grammar notebook along, and if I plan on studying Chinese articles, I might have my article notebook with me, but not always. However, my practice notebook is always in my bag!

How do you organize your notes and all? For those of you who might be struggling to get your notes together, I hope this helped!

Happy studying~

cassiebones  asked:

How many girls do you think Alex accidentally flirted with before she realized she was gay? Like she was SO flirting with Maggie before she realized but like how often do you think that happened and she just thought she was being nice or whatever? Fucking oblivious gay nerd.

She’s six and the girl’s brothers had left her all alone in the sand as they dashed into the ocean, yelping and shoving and splashing each other as they barrel deeper into the water.

The girl looks lonely and the girl looks listless, and Alex knows the feeling.

“You don’t like the ocean?” she asks without preamble, because six year old social code permits so much more direct communication than older codes will.

The girl turns to her and sighs. Her face is pretty, even when it’s sad, and Alex bites the inside of her cheek. “I’ll just slow my brothers down,” she says, and Alex holds out an open hand.

“You won’t slow me down.”

They take each wave together, the girl never letting go of Alex’s hand, and Alex never wanting her to.

Eliza, watching from their balcony overlooking the beach, is proud that her shy little Alexandra is finally making a friend.

She’s ten and the pretty girl from homeroom has the best science fair poster in the whole lunchroom.

Except for Alex’s, of course, but Alex doesn’t mention that when she tells her that it looks great, and how did she get such clear images of a monthly progression of sunspots from a homemade pinhole camera?

Alex thinks the girl blushes, but it must be because she’s shy, or maybe she doesn’t like talking in such a crowded, bustling space. Or it’s Alex’s imagination.

Either way, she decides that the best course of action is to keep complimenting the girl, because she deserves it, and if Alex’s life as a professional ten year old nerd is any indication, the girl can use all the compliments she can get.

She’s fourteen, and her newest surf instructor is eighteen, and Alex has never been nervous before classes before, but she almost throws up each time, now, because what if she messes up, and what if her instructor decides that Alex has only been accelerated to an advanced class by luck, and she demotes her back down to surfing with the other fourteen year olds, and – 

“Nice job, Danvers!” she calls, and Alex nearly spills off her board at the way her heart leaps, at the way she says her name.

When her boyfriend picks her up after class – her instructor’s boyfriend, not Alex’s, because who would ever want to date her, anyway? – Alex stands a little bit straighter, gets her instructor to laugh a little bit louder.

“Make sure he takes you somewhere nice: you only deserve the best places, you know?” she tells her, and she thinks she’s smooth, thinks she’s putting the college boy in his place, even though she’s not quite sure why she wants to.

She’s sixteen and Vicky Donahue is always on her mind. And that’s okay – they’re best friends, and best friends are supposed to always be on each other’s minds, right? – and Vicky is nice to Kara and Vicky smells so damn good and Alex wants to be just like her and she usually loves school but god the days before the nights she gets to sleep over at Vicky’s are horribly, horribly long.

Because Vicky’s mother keeps offering to set up an air mattress in Vicky’s room, and Alex keeps telling her, “It’s alright, Mrs. Donahue, you don’t have to go out of your way, I don’t mind the tight space, honest.” Because it is a tight space, sharing Vicky’s bed, but it means that Vicky’s body is close to hers, and best friends snuggle all the time, right?

And friends play dress up, too, even in high school, right, and when Vicky goes through her parents’ closets and tosses her top off without thinking to try on something new, Alex gulps extra hard and she blushes like she’s Kara and she stammers but she obeys when Vicky tells her to come zip her up, and she nearly kisses the back of her neck because friends are affectionate with each other, right, and she’s sincere when she tells her that she’s beautiful, that she’s the prettiest girl in the whole school, the whole town, and Vicky gives her something of a strange look, and she turns her back to Alex before she changes again.

She’s nineteen and she doesn’t have much use for English class, but that girl who sits across from her makes great drawings in her notebook and Alex has to tell her, right, because who doesn’t want to be complimented?

“Hey – I really like your uh… art.”

The girl giggles. “They’re just doodles.”

“No, but they’re really good! You’re really good.”

The girl shrugs, her eyes lingering on Alex’s face a beat too long. But not long enough.

She starts doodling for Alex, nudging her and edging her notebook toward her, sometimes ripping out the sketches and gifting them to a spluttering Alex. She keeps every one of them and she takes them out during long days in the lab, and she chews on the inside of her cheek, and she fantasizes about what the girl’s boyfriend probably likes to do to her in bed, because some of the doodles are a bit sexual, so it’s only natural for the mind to wander, right?

She’s twenty-three and she’s partying way too hard, because college was too easy and grad school is easy but what’s not easy is Eliza’s voice in the back of her head, is the constant guilt of having gone off to Stanford without Kara, is the constant confusion and loneliness because she can get everything else right, but not dating, not men, and Eliza is starting to ask uncomfortable questions.

She goes home with men with clumsy hands and overeager tongues, but she dances with women with scintillating touches and vodka on their breath. She smiles and sometimes, she winks, and sometimes, she puts her hands on hips that aren’t hers, and sometimes, her blood rushes through her veins so fast she can barely breathe because her body will go home with a guy, but her mind will stay here on the dance floor.

She’s twenty-seven and it’s been too long, and that’s okay, because the DEO keeps her busy, the DEO keeps her focused. The DEO saved her life.

But she’s twenty-seven and Lucy Lane walks in and Kara isn’t wrong about how nice she smells and how smart she is and how date-able she is, but she’s the enemy because of who her father is and she’s the enemy because of who her ex-boyfriend-sort-of-still-boyfriend is and she’s the enemy because she almost sends Alex and J’onn off to Cadmus, but suddenly she’s not the enemy because she rescues them and fights for them and she throws everything on the line for them and Alex thinks of that thing she felt during her interrogation, correcting Lucy from calling her Alexandra, Lucy’s piercing eyes when she called out that Alex was lying, Lucy’s uncomfortable shifting when what’s his face was going on yet another xenophobic rant, and Alex can’t think about any of this now because now, she’s on the run, and sure, she’ll always have Lucy to thank for that, but later, later, later.

She’s twenty-eight and it’s her crime scene, dammit, not some arrogant detective’s with gorgeous eyes and gorgeous hair and a confident smirk and god, god, god, how is she that smart, how is anyone that sharp?

She’s twenty-eight and it’s innocent, it’s pool, they’re friends, and of course she’s not jealous when she says she’s got a hot date, because sure, whatever woman has a hot date with Maggie Sawyer is probably the luckiest woman in the world, but Alex is just excited to finally meet someone that can go toe-to-toe with her, that can challenge her, that can change her. And if her stomach flips a little bit when she saunters off in those jeans and that tank top to that date, it’s just because she’d hoped maybe they could go for a drink, because it’s been so long since Alex has had a friend outside of work.

She’s twenty-eight and she’s up all night, because she’s twenty-eight and she’s falling in love. In gay love. Lesbian love. 

God, god, god, how has she not seen it before?

She’s falling in love with a woman, and memories are exploding out of her like water bursting out of a dam, and she’s terrified and she’s confused and she’s never felt more… herself.

And Maggie Sawyer is the reason why.

10

Art School | Sophie Roach (Austin, TX)

Drawing and painting her way through an imaginative landscape of intricate and visual entanglements is Austin native, Sophie Roach.  Her artwork has endlessly covered  surfaces from– guitars, beer cans, Vans, to entire rooms.  And if that isn’t already insanely rad, her organic approach and laid back attitude make her not only incredibly humble, but also a super awesome collaborator.  While finishing up one mural and starting up new projects, we had the chance to ask Sophie a few questions about her art, her career, and her approach – from finding her voice, attacking a mural, to digging the quietude one might find as a mail person hah!  

Photographs courtesy of the artist. 

Keep reading

Things to be happy about today

-Somewhere in the world, it has just gotten warm enough to have a pleasant afternoon walk. A girl calls for her dog and grabs the leash. Little puppy nails scramble against the tile, and the dog almost careens into the table, barely able to control the inertia of his own excitement.

-Somewhere in the world, a young man nudges his wife. “It’s time to wake up,” he murmurs. She mumbles something that may or may not be words and pulls the covers over her head. The boy can’t help the smile that softly spreads across his face. He nestles back into the covers and wraps his arm around her, deciding that, perhaps just this one time, they can spare a few more minutes in bed. The girl peeks out from her blanket cocoon, and the boy takes the chance to swoop in for a kiss on her nose. She squeaks and bats him away. “Don’t do that!” But she’s laughing. They both are. The boy takes a moment to wonder how he got so lucky. He loves her so, so much.

-Somewhere in the world, a person idly doodles in their notebook during class. When they examine their handiwork, they realize that the drawing is actually pretty good. They wear a small, goofy smile for the rest of the day.

-Somewhere in the world, an old woman slowly slips on her gardening gloves and hobbles outside to check on her plants. As she bends to grab the watering can, she sees that one of her tulips has bloomed, a brilliant red nestled in a sea of green. She claps her hands, once, and calls inside for her grandson to come look. 

-Somewhere in the world, two shy people are in love. They sit by a bonfire, watching the crackling of the flames and thinking about how they are going to tell their families. One of them tenses and relaxes their hand a few times, wondering what their mother will think, what their friends will think, what they will do if no one approves. Their anxiety builds until they feel a soft hand catch theirs. They look up, into the warm, inviting eyes of the person they adore, and their shoulders relax. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. They will make it through together, and it will be worth it. It will all be okay.

-Somewhere in the world, a young immigrant holds a letter from her dream college in her hands. Her whole body shakes as she runs her nail along the envelope, tearing it open. Her parents hover over her shoulder, filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement. They don’t understand much English, but they recognize the word that appears at the top of the page when it is unfolded: congratulations! Everyone starts cheering at once. This is the first time the girl has ever seen her father cry. They all throw themselves in a messy group hug, bouncing up and down in a rhythm that is not synced, but somehow still seems like a perfect harmony.

-Somewhere in the world, you woke up. It may be the easiest thing you had to do today, or the hardest thing you have to do every day. Either way, your eyes fluttered open and you took a deep breath, letting the sensation of consciousness wash over you. It may be a nice feeling. It may be a burden. But you have done it. You have risen to the challenge of a new day. You may accomplish one of your life’s dreams today. You may only accomplish the act of allowing your heart to beat. Both of these things are worth celebrating. 

-Somewhere in the world, a young woman with a very tiny ponytail types at a keyboard. She is tired, barely able to keep her eyes open, but she is grateful to be alive for another day. She knows that her words may reach no one, but that there’s a chance someone’s heart may be a little lighter if she sends her thoughts out into the world, and it’s a chance she’s willing to take. She settles on the last thing she wants to say before closing her laptop and dozing off for an afternoon nap:

The mistakes you made yesterday don’t matter anymore. Today is the perfect day to try again.

NEWT SCAMANDER X READER

HEARTBEAT

desc: Newt is unable to grasp why you would ever find fascination in observing him, which is followed by a heartfelt moment, and admittance of love. 

Kisses and lots of FLUFF! <3 (gif not mine, creds to owner)

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Newt Scamander was an absolute work of art, and simply studying his features helped you relax, so you did. He sat at the polished oak table, his right leg shaking as he focused, his honey colored locks sprawled across his forehead. When he focused, these little crinkles appeared from the furrow of his eyebrows, and he would chew his lower lip whilst deep in thought. A golden beam of sunlight twinkled across his button nose, rosy cheeks, and brilliant blue-green eyes. He reached for his steaming mug of tea, letting the curls of steam crawl over his face before taking a careful sip. Then his lips twitched ever so noticeably, and you could make out the little dimples of his curious smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his head still bent into his leather notebook, his white feather quill tight in his hand.

You sat across the table from him, head in palm as you examined him, “because you’re very nice to stare at, Newt.”

This split his lips into a wide grin, and he gently set his quill down before giving his full attention to you. “I can’t focus when you’re devouring me with those eyes.”

You shrugged, giving a small grin, “you’re always staring at me, too.”

Newt’s glimmering eyes crinkled, “well, that’s different.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “how so?”

“Well, you see, with you - okay, but - you’re very, well-” New continuously tripped over his words as he fumbled to piece together his thoughts. 

“Go on,” you encouraged, stretching your hand across the table.

Newt brought his eyes down, his hand coming up gently to rest in yours, his fingers intertwining with the most cautious ease. He strung his fingers between yours, his eyes looking over your hands for a good while.

“Newt, you’re doing it again,” you giggled, when he’d gotten distracted and removed his hand to draw patterns all over your palms.

“What? Oh, oh, yes, right,” he sighed, putting his hand back in yours. He looked back up, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Erm, well, you are the most fascinatingly charming girl I h-have ever had the pleasure of coming upon,” he began, his cheeks reddening at once. “So y-you see, when I study my creatures, I am always discovering more of their hidden wonders, as I am with you. Sometimes the sunlight will cross different crevices of your face, sometimes your eyes are darker than usual, sometimes a strand of hair falls loose, a-and sometimes you’re smile is so wonderfully mesmerizing that I must always…watch. I can’t miss a moment, you see, I have to study you until I know all you’re little quirks like the back of my hand.” Newts eyes had drifted onto a patch of table around halfway through, unable to hold your gaze.

You squeezed his hand really lightly to get his focus, “Newt.” 

He released your hand and brought his own back down into his lap, shifting in his chair and looking very flustered when he looked back up at you.

“Newt, you’re too good to me,” you whispered, feeling ridiculous for wanting to cry. 

“I’m just so lucky to have you, please know this,” he mumbled hurriedly.

You shook your head with a faint laugh, “what makes you think I have no reason to admire you?”

His jaw clenched a little, and you saw his face droop, “my love, there is nothing special to see.”

That physically pained you to hear.

“Newt!” you gasped, “Please, never say that again.”

He grew instantly worried, “Oh-I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I-”

“Shh,” you cut him off and stood up, heading around the table and taking a seat right beside him, turning your chair toward Newt. He half-heartedly turned to face you as well.

“Newt,” you smiled sadly, raising your palm up to graze his cheek. He twitched nervously under your touch, but you reassured him and rested your hand against his freckle dotted skin.

“Newt, you are the kindest and most amazing person ever, and I hate to see you doubting yourself like this. You are so special Newt, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do; as a sweet, loving, and most definitely heart stoppingly beautiful human being. Yes there are kind folks out there, yes there are gorgeous folks out there, but never have I found someone who is both as gorgeous and compassionate to the extent that you are, which is why I am so deeply in lo-”

You stopped short, realizing you had spoken too much and instantly freezing over. You had never exchanged the three magic words with Newt before, and suddenly it seemed nothing but terrifying.

Newts mouth opened, his skin warming beneath your fingertips, “What?”

“N-nothing,” you mumbled, dropping your hand nervously.

Newt grabbed your hand gently before it could fall, and took it in his own, bringing it right up to his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat rapidly quickening beneath the fabric of his soft clothes.

“Do you feel that?” he gulped.

You nodded shyly, “Yeah?”

“That, (Y/N), is what one who is madly in love feels,” he smiled nervously. “This here, i-is physical proof of how I feel when I’m with you, and how it feels to be head over heels for y-you, my darling.”

You felt your own heartbeat falter before quickening, and Newt asked, “Do you love me too?”

He had said it so quietly that you almost missed it. His lips quivered, his slender fingers trembling as his face sunk into a state of absolute sadness and worry. You couldn’t even speak at the sight, so instead you brought his hand up to your own chest, and lay it against your heart. Newt stretched his fingers slowly across your front, his palm taking in the rapid and intense thrum of your heartbeat.

“You tell me,” you breathed quietly.

He brought his eyes from your heart to your painfully nervous gaze. Once again, his lips twitched and broke into that familiar smile. The sun sent flares across his warm features and illuminated his overjoyed expression.

“I would very much like to kiss you right now, if you would allow me,” he proposed shyly.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your smile stretching wide as you gave him a nod.

Newt pulled a stray hair of yours affectionately behind your ear before tracing down to your jawline and resting his hand beneath your chin. He gave you one last look before tilting his head in with a flutter of his eyelids. Your eyes closed at the moment where your lips made contact. It was only for the briefest of moments, but was plenty enough for you to feel intoxicated by the taste you were given. He was soft and gentle with you, as if you were a fragile piece, and his lips were full, warm, and tasted of delightful sugar sweet joy. You could feel his hand quivering beneath your chin, but you pushed your lips in a little deeper to show you were at ease with him. You felt a rolling crystal droplet trickle down from his eyes and down onto your lips, but the taste of salt in the kiss was one that you knew was from tears of joy. Newt’s timid lips twitched upwards against yours, and he pulled back a second later, forgetting to breathe for a moment. He gulped down the lump in his throat and took a deep breath in whilst opening his bluish green eyes again.

“T-that was-” he stuttered.

“Wonderful,” you smiled and bent forward, dropping a light peck against Newt’s nose. You brought your own head down to Newt’s chest, and burrowed into the crevice of his neck, where you breathed in the scent of flowers and, possibly, niffler. He brought his hand up to hold your head, his free arm coming around your waist and giving you a squeeze. You smiled against his skin and let your eyes come to a close.

Newt sat quietly, formulating sentences but only coming up with one, “I’m just… so lucky to have you,” he whispered again.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I love your writing! Can you write an Andriel fic where someone (nathan's men, burglar, you decide!) breaks into Neil's apartment while he's face timing with Andrew and Andrew is all worried and stuff over the phone :)

thank you so so much, precious anon! ask and you shall receive. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


“And if I move Davis to the left, then Salazar has way too much ground to cover. But if I don’t, then he’ll have to keep up with Rhodes, and we all know he can’t handle her…” Neil is going round and round with these ideas for new plays, mostly to himself. Andrew flicks his eyes away from the zucchini he is currently dicing to look at Neil on his computer screen, scribbling away in his notebook approximately 1,226 miles away.

He watches Neil stop writing. Tilt his head to left. Sigh. And draw a giant X over everything he’s been working on for the past hour and a half.

Andrew rolls his eyes and shakes his head, though he really doesn’t know why he is surprised. Neil’s new position as the leading striker on the Baton Rouge Pirates includes more responsibilities than he had on his first pro team. Neil will undoubtedly be up for several hours working on this one play, and Andrew will be a silent spectator, contributing the occasional snarky comment when asked for his opinion.

Finished with the zucchini, Andrew adds it in with the rest of the vegetables and tosses them into the pan with his already sizzling potatoes. He moves to the sink to rinse the knife he was using and return it to the knife block on the counter, a house-warming gift from Bee.

Neil is still thinking out loud, going on about Davis’s apparent lack of speed and general know-how. Truthfully, Andrew could not care less about any of it. But he finds that just the even sound of Neil’s voice makes him feel more relaxed, a little less on edge than usual. Even if he is just droning on about Exy, it’s almost like they aren’t on different sides of the country. They FaceTime at least twice a week, and it brings Andrew much more comfort than he will ever be willing to admit. He likes Denver, but not as much as he hates Neil.

“Ugh! I’m done. I’m so done. If I look at this for another second, I’ll light it on fire,” comes Neil’s exasperated complaint. Andrew is tending to his vegetables, but he can hear the shuffling of paper and what sounds like a pen hitting a wall.

“Luckily for you, I disabled your fire alarm,” Andrew says, purposefully ignoring Neil’s tantrum.

Andrew turns in time to witness Neil’s dramatic sigh, complete with his head rather forcefully meeting his folded arms on the table. Andrew rolls his eyes, yet again, and turns the stove off before plating his masterpiece. He walks over to where his laptop is sitting on the counter and picks it up, taking Neil with him to the table. Neil must notice all the noise because he finally sits back up and rests his chin in his hand.

They look at each other for a moment before Andrew drags his gaze away and settles his attention on something else, anything else. This is his least favorite part. The way they can see and hear each other, almost feel like they’re together, but then he can’t even make actual eye contact with Neil. It’s trivial, really. It shouldn’t bother him this much, but it does. The awkward cycle of looking at Neil, then looking at the tiny screen in the corner housing his own reflection, then attempting to look into the camera like maybe Neil will understand what Andrew won’t say.

“Staring,” Andrew says, mainly as a distraction from these unwelcome thoughts.

“Uh-huh,” Neil snorts in response, like he can see right through Andrew. He probably can.

Andrew looks back to see Neil look to his right and let a small smile creep onto his face. He vanishes from view for about thirty seconds, then reappears with an armful of Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.

“Oh look. It’s still alive. Joy.”

Neil laughs. “Shut up, you adore him and you know it.”

“I hate him slightly less than I hate most other things.”

Neil tosses Andrew a triumphant smile. “Exactly.”

Andrew offers only a noncommittal grunt in return.

“So what should we do when I’m off next week? I bought my ticket already, by the way. I get in at 9:45 Sunday night.”

“We could drive to the top of Mount Evans, and I could leave you there,” Andrew replies.

“Finally find a decent place to hide my body? I’m actually a little disappointed. You should at least cross state lines, getting rid of me a mere 65 miles away is too suspicious. You know they always suspect the boyfriend first.”

Andrew lets the term slide in favor of silently flipping Neil off.

Neil’s ensuing laughter is cut short when he turns his head sharply to the left, toward his front door.

“What?” Andrew asks.

Neil is quiet for several seconds, much too long for Andrew’s liking.

“I think someone just picked my lock.”

Keep reading

The girl no one noticed || D.H.

A/N: I got this really (!) cool request not long ago and I just felt like writing it! Thank you to the person who sent it in. I feel like this turned out to be one of the purest imagines I have ever written.

Word Count: 1.8K

POV: 3rd Person (uhh something special)

MASTERLIST // PART TWO

“Mr Howell, can you please pay attention?!”

“I don’t know, can I?” Dan was smirking and cockily looking up at the teacher. She seemed perplex and instead of answering she just handed him a detention slip.

Dan didn’t really care instead he enjoyed that he made the whole class laugh. He felt like he was glowing as Mrs Hammersmith was evilly glaring at every student that couldn’t hold in their laughter.

And then he heard her, the girl that sat in the middle of class right in front of him. He’d been staring at her back all semester but not once had he heard her talk. Okay, maybe she had answered a question that she was asked, but she never said more than that.

But right at this moment he could clearly hear her giggle at his comment and he had never heard anything that beautiful. It was light and so genuine.

Dan had never really noticed her before. She was just there. Nobody ever payed attention to her and that was what she wanted. She didn’t want to be noticed but ever since Dan heard her giggle he couldn’t stop noticing her.

When the bell rang every student quickly sprinted outside. Everybody seemed to hate English Literature taught by Mrs Hammersmith, but Y/N didn’t. She liked the books her teacher gave the class to read and she’d spent nights devouring them. Still she didn’t say much during class even though she knew all the answers. Y/N just didn’t feel like she needed the attention unlike the boys who sat right behind her.

She picked up her school bag and notebook as she followed everyone outside.

“Get out of the way!” She heard somebody shout, seconds later she felt a hard shoulder hit hers.

A blonde guy was chasing his friend through the hallway. He didn’t pay enough attention to his surroundings to see Y/N walking right in front of him. The two of them collided. She was pushed against a stranger’s locker and dropped everything she was carrying. Her notebook hit the floor with a loud thud as the loose pieces of paper she stored in there scattered all over the floor.

Her ‘attacker’ didn’t even say anything he was long gone when Y/N got up again.

“You look like you need help.”

Dan had watched his friend Joe chase Carter, another friend of his, down the hallway. At first, he laughed because he knew that Carter must have done something really stupid, but then he saw Joe run into the quiet girl from class.

Y/N gulped nervously. Before she could tell the brown-haired boy that ‘it’s okay’ he had already started picking up her notes and scribbles.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m Dan by the way.” He showed her his friendliest smile. She smiled back as soon as she saw his dimples. Y/N recognized him as the guy who sat behind her in English Lit.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Dan was surprised that her voice wasn’t all quiet. It just sounded very clear.

She bent down next to him to help him pick up her papers. Dan gathered as many as he could and couldn’t stop himself from taking a quick glance at them before he handed them back.

Her handwriting wasn’t as neat as he had expected it to be. It was rather messy but he could still make out a few words. It didn’t look like anything school related.

Y/N noticed that Dan took a look at her notes. She had just scribbled song lyrics and poems down and she was sure he couldn’t even read what it said.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry that Joe pushed you over.” Dan nervously laughed a little. He didn’t really want this conversation to end, but he had nothing else to say.

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I’ll see you around?” Dan asked her, hoping that they would get the chance to talk to each other again.

“I guess so.” Y/N answered.

They had never talked to each other before. In fact, she didn’t talk much. Dan was one of the loud boys in the back of class, so Y/N was understandably a bit confused by his sudden…interest?

After they had said their byes they walked off in different directions. Dan couldn’t stop himself from turning around again and staring at her back that was moving away from him.

‘Who is she?’ he silently asked himself and he didn’t find an answer.

Yes, she was the quiet and shy girl that sat in front of him in class, but who was she really?

Dan just needed to find out.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her once after that incident. He even subtly asked his friends about her, but most of them didn’t even knew what girl he was talking about.

The next time he walked into English class he had a weird feeling in his stomach region. He wasn’t feeling sick though, he was excited? nervous even?

She was already waiting for class to start in her assigned seat as always. A part of her face was hidden behind a strand of her hair as she was drawing little butterflies next to some of her notes.

When Dan walked past her seat she glanced up at him for a second, their eyes met and then she quickly looked down again.

Dan took the chair behind her and as soon as the bell rang Mrs Hammersmith started with her lesson. It was not unusual that Dan didn’t listen to whatever she said but normally it was because he’d be joking around with his friends.

That wasn’t the reason this time. This time he was thinking about the colour of Y/N’s eyes and how he had never seen more beautiful ones.

Mrs Hammersmith started handing out new books for everybody to read and most of the class groaned as she did so.

Y/N on the other hand curiously examined the title and cover of the book as soon it was handed to her. After every student was given a copy of the book Mrs Hammersmith raised her voice.

“I want you to do presentations on this novel.” She announced and again the class groaned.

“In pairs” the teacher then added and seemed to cheer up most of her students.

Y/N, however, quickly raised her hand.

Before she was even asked to speak, Mrs Hammersmith answered her question.

“No Miss Y/L/N you can’t do the presentation on your own. You’ll need to find a partner.”

Y/N’s hand slowly sank in defeat.

“I can be her partner.”

Every student in this class seemed to turn around to stare at Dan. Their eyes were nearly grouching out of their socket as they couldn’t believe that he had volunteered to pair up with the girl nobody noticed.

Even Y/N had turned around to face him. He was shooting her a grin and shrugged his shoulders as if he were saying ‘why not?’.

She simply nodded, agreeing to do this project together.

After class had ended Dan quickly followed Y/N outside.

“So… when do you want to meet up?” Dan asked her, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you think you can finish the book until Friday?” she asked him, eying the novel she was now carrying on top of her notebook. It was pretty thin, she would probably read it in one go tonight.

“Sure.” He positively said although it would probably take him a while since he wasn’t really into reading that much.

“Good. Then we can meet up Friday after school. My place?” She wanted to know.

“Sounds great.” Dan smiled at her, already looking forward to Friday.

As the day of days had finally came Dan was unable to concentrate on anything in class or listen to anything his friends said. The only thought he was able to think was ‘I’m going to see Y/N today’.

Dan had stayed up until way past his usual bed time in order to finish the book. He was busy all week and didn’t have the chance to read it, but he would’ve done anything to finish it.  

After his last lesson on Friday he nearly jumped up from his seat, he didn’t even say goodbye to Joe or Carter, he walked out of the building straight away to wait for Y/N in the parking lot.

To his surprise, she was already waiting for him right next to the entrance. What Dan didn’t know was that she was just as excited as him.

“Hi” she greeted him and Dan’s heart swelled with happiness at the simple word.

“Hey Y/N” he greeted her back and as she started walking he just followed her.

“We need to take the bus.” She explained as they made their way to the bus stop.

Five minutes later Dan sat in a bus that was driving in the opposite direction to where his house was.

They sat next to each other but didn’t talk much. Still, it wasn’t an awkward kind of silence between them. It just felt normal.

After Y/N had told Dan where to get off they walked a few metres until they had reached her house. She got the keys from her bag and unlocked the front door.

“My parents are at work. How do you feel about ordering something for lunch?” Y/N asked the brown-haired boy that kept looking around the house.

“Sounds perfect to me.” Dan exclaimed, only now noticing how hungry he was.

Dan took his shoes and jacket off before grabbing his bag again and waiting for her to tell him what to do.

“My room is upstairs.” She explained before she ran up the stairs on her tip toes. Just that simple act made him grin.

He followed her and as he entered her room his mouth hung open. There were Green Day posters and lyrics plastered all over her walls. There was even a drum kit in the back of her room.

He stared at her with wide eyes as he noticed the stacks of video games next to her TV. He had played and loved most of them, but he saw some that he didn’t even know of.

“There is a sequel to The Last of Us?” he asked her flabbergasted, picking up the game from where it was lying next to her PS4.

“It came out yesterday. I pre-ordered it. It’s so much better than I had expected it to be, and my expectations were high!” She excitedly exclaimed and Dan was taken aback by how passionate she was about it and how vigorous her voice sounded.

His gaze wandered through her room for a while as he took in all the tiny details and decorations.

Then, his eyes landed on Y/N again and he couldn’t help but stare at the girl nobody but him noticed. And boy, they all missed out on something.

“Who are you?” he asked her with a smile, not being able to read her.

Serendipity’s Symphony

Synopsis: Yoongi loves the world of music. He falls even harder when he finds that entire world within you, his muse.

Originally posted by imaginesbts

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader // soulmate au

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: just a little short story i screamed about with @itsrainingmin and later yelped with @seoulscapes // it was originally supposed to be a series but i’m more on the fence with leaving this as is… yikes


Min Yoongi is hopelessly in love with the world of music. He lives for the melodious sound, charming harmony behind each track, and wholehearted lyrics that can draw back dilapidated sentiments and memories. He spends hours on end in his life easily creating songs in the confinement of his dim bedroom, which he gladly defines as his studio. The lyrics and rhythm flows to him effortlessly, countless notebooks filled with messy scribbles of random words. The rare times he steps into the open his fingers still tap to the silent tune that echoes over and over in his mind like a record player, head bobbing to it as he tries to draw lyrics to pair with the melody. Frankly, his inspiration never runs dry.

Well, he wishes it never does.

For the past five tiresome months, his inspiration has been dwindling, motivation to create music now dissipating at the seams. Yoongi has fallen into the horrible habit of starting his musical pieces the same way he finishes them; laying in the soft of his mattress with too much thought, wrinkled papers barely stained with his musical genius scattered among the surface.

Etched in his brain throughout those five months is the same chunk of a melody that he graciously plays on his piano with forbearance, hopes of the rest of his song soaring to him high — though it never does. His friends have grown worried about him, pondering how he can stay cooped up in such a small space for so long, only time he would willfully leave is for the restroom or a quick snack.

Two things constantly run through his mind; the refrain that lies fugacious, and the silly, tiny tattoo of a bass clef gracing the side of his left ring finger. When music is not on his mind, the titivating tattoo invades his thoughts because someone, somewhere has the treble clef at the exact same spot to indicate the matching mark of soulmates.

And the sublime element of music is the only clue he has of his destined lover.

Keep reading

this a post (complete with links, pictures and other tips) dedicated to all of you struggling through what seems to be a hell they call high school. i get it. i struggled through it, all my friends endured it and you’re probably in the same boat of wanting to throw yourself down each flight of stairs that presents itself. but please don’t do that! i’m here to help, friend!! this is a comprehensive list of all the things i learned from my time in high school. i hope this helps at least one person out there! as always, if you guys have any questions, my ask box is open :)

before we get into it: this is a link to my study routine because some people have been asking for it and don’t have a section in this post to put it under so i’m just going to leave it here.

self-care advice:

okay so, i’m going to be completely upfront with you. high school is hard. it’s especially hard if you want to do well. i can honestly say that senior year took its toll in more ways than one when i didn’t take care of myself or pay attention to my body’s needs. so here are some self-care tips to keep you happy & healthy.

1. eat a lot & stay hydrated

when you’re trying to finish a 2000 word essay, or pretty much all but shoving toothpicks in your eyes to stay up studying for an exam the next day, food is your best friend. food helps your brain work better and you’ll find that your concentration levels increase when you study on a filled stomach. there are lots of brain foods out there like dark chocolate, nuts, vegetable sticks etc. but don’t forget to reward yourself with a food of your choice after you feel like you’ve done a lot of work. couple all of this with lots of water to keep you feeling refreshed.

2. pamper yourself

i am completely aware of the fact that high school students don’t have the time to go to a spa or sauna every other weekend. however, you deserve a nice long bath or a good face scrub every now and then. other things you can indulge in:

  • sheet masks
  • body lotion (especially the nice smelling ones)
  • scented candles
  • hand cream
  • nail polish
  • eye masks
  • a good facial cleanser
  • serums
  • bath bombs

and the list goes on. trust me, being physically relaxed plays a big part in how your brain performs. if you feel a bit gross, take a shower before you start studying. it’s little things like that that’ll make a massive difference.

3. sleep

everyone says it, i know. but it’s so important. if you don’t get sleep the night before because you were cramming for tomorrow morning’s exam, go home and take a nap in the afternoon. get some shuteye in one form or another. pls. 

4. believe in yourself

it sounds so weird, and it’s usually not included in posts like these but in my opinion it’s one of, if not the most, important factor in high school success. think about it. if you’re spending those years of your life doubting whether your answer is correct, whether your science report is as good as the next person’s or whether your friends truly like you, you’re using up a lot of energy that could be used for things that’ll actually benefit you in the long run. that’s why my blog is titled “breathe” - because that’s exactly what you have to do, and sometimes that’s the only thing you can do in order to keep going. chin up. you’re going to be okay. you’re doing great. i believe in you. and you should believe in you too. 

organisational tips:

1. plan everything

i’m telling you now, get some kind of planning system. whether you want to use a bullet journal, a planner, a diary, an app, a computer program or your grandma’s paper napkins, seriously just pick something. when you have seven different classes and you have assessment for each, i highly doubt you’re going to remember every task that goes along with them. so, just take my word for it and plan plan plan.

here’s a link to how i used my planner back in high school. 

i also recommend a whiteboard monthly calendar so you can keep track of all of the important dates you need to remember.

2. post-its

i love love love post-its. i honestly can’t stop myself from buying them - especially the cute animal ones. post-its saved my butt when keeping my books organised and easy to navigate. you can use them to separate different semesters, chapters, lectures, topics etc. i also use post-its to mark any questions, sections or subjects that i’m unsure of so that i can ask my teacher about it the next day. i then write down the answer or explanation on a separate sticky note and stick it next to the question so i can refer back to it when studying for exams.

+ look at all the different kinds of cute post-its you can get!

so you can obviously get all your standard, basic post-its.

buuutttttttt, you can also get all of these fun ones too! they make studying a lot easier and a lot more fun, trust me. 

3. figure out a system that works for you

so in high school, i liked having notebooks for each class and having an accordion folder to hold all my papers. that worked perfectly fine for me but there may be other methods that work better for you. i suggest, especially if you’re just about to start or just started high school, that you experiment with different organisational systems to find which one suits you best.

i’ve got a page dedicated to my favourite supplies and how i use them. i hope you can get some inspiration from it in some way. 

motivational tips:

1. quotes

go on google, tumblr, facebook, instagram, weheartit or whatever tickles your fancy and search up some quotes that inspire you. it sounds really corny, but i’m telling you that it works. i had three quotes above my desk and they always used to motivate me when all i could think about was crashing into the comfort of my blankets. i would pick quotes and write/draw them out myself so i could add my own spin on them. i used:

  • “make hermione proud”
  • “effort only fully releases its rewards to those who refuse to quit”
  • “you have galaxies in your head, don’t let anyone tell you you cannot shine”

ta-da!

2. studyblr

this community! it’s the best motivation in my opinion. whenever i was in a procrastination slump, i would scroll through the studyblr tag or scroll through studyblr blogs and before i knew it i’d be ready to study for another hour. it’s honestly one of the most helpful resources, and if it’s available to you then i definitely recommend that you use it!

3. music

get yourself a study playlist. it’s amazing what music can do for your mood. add a mix of songs that will get you pumped to blitz through that 5-star difficulty chemistry question and songs that will help you concentrate when you need to find the right word for that english essay. studying when it’s dead quiet is weirdly deafening to me and i can’t concentrate if there isn’t some sort of background noise. just add whatever helps you - whether it be panic!, classical or in my case, kpop hehe

i have a playlist suggestion on my blog if you want to try listening to some new songs. :)

that’s all, folks!

in all honesty, high school isn’t going to be a walk in the park if you want to succeed. it takes dedication, a lot of persistence and a consistent work ethic. you need to know what you’re aiming for, and you need to want it just as much, if not more, than the person who wants the same thing. my high school experience was stressful and anxiety inducing, but i can honestly say that the rewards on the flip side are very much worth it. you’ve got this. you’ll do a lot more than survive. you will succeed. 

you can do it! i believe in you! 

stay motivated x

anonymous asked:

Marichat "I really need you" writing prompt please

It had been a stupid decision really. An impulse. A chance to get back at Chloe while standing up for her partner. 

At the time it had been incredibly satisfying, walking into the classroom dressed head to toe in what might as well have been a billboard for Chat Noir merchandise. Chloe had of course glowered preparing to cut in with some sort of scathing retort until she had been cut off by Adrien’s absolutely delight at seeing her. Unwilling to risk upsetting her precious ‘Adrikins’ Chloe had to settle for glaring at Marinette for the remainder of the day while both Adrien and Nino had fawned over her, asking her for her thoughts and opinions on all things Chat Noir. 

It had been a lovely day, and worth the 6 hours of sewing and altering she had spent the night before. She had even officially getting Adrien’s phone number for her trouble. 

What she had not expected was for Chat Noir to somehow get the memo. 

She blamed Nino’s Instagram. 

That very night her oversized kitten had shown up at her window looking for attention from his “biggest fan.” 

Apparently he hadn’t forgotten her manufactured fawning from their minimal encounters together. 

Figuring he would be satisfied with a little ego stroking she had once again fallen into the role of starstruck fangirl- swooning at his flirtations and posing for selfies. To be fair, it had been nice to get some photos with her partner that she could actually display in her room. So she had smiled and cooed and figured that was the end of it. 

But then he kept coming back…

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“What are those?” Eleven asked, looking at the bundle of dark red flowers in Jonathan’s hands. 

“These?” he held them out to let her look closer, “They’re roses. A special kind of flower for Valentine’s Day.” 

“Why are they special?” Eleven tentatively brushed a fingertip against the soft petals of one of the roses. 

“Because you get them for a girl you really like, the way I really like Nancy.”

“Love.” It was a statement, not a question. Eleven may not have been the best at speaking, but she was certainly good at feeling. Jonathan’s cheeks turned almost as red as the roses in his hand. 

“Yeah,” he ran his fingers through his messy hair, “I guess so.” 

“Pretty,” Eleven smiled. Jonathan reached into the bouquet and plucked one out, handing it to her. 

“Careful,” he said, “Sometimes the stems have thorns.” 

“But they’re not for me,” Eleven hesitated, her hand hovering over the stem.

“This one can be,” Jonathan assured her, “Like you said, they’re for girls you love. And I love you like you’re my little sister.”


An excerpt from a Valentine’s Day fic I wrote a while back. 

on sketches

Sometimes Percy lets Vex go through his sketchbooks when he’s not using them - a sign of how much he trusts her, really.

A lot of his notes from before they met are messy and jumbled and - in many places - heavily damaged and torn. He doesn’t sketch people or places, just scribbles out ideas that would later become his guns. Vex finds a page early on where he tried to keep count of the days since he got free of Whitestone; it stops after a month and a half.

And then she hits the part where she knows they’ve met. He sketches out Keyleth’s circlet, Scanlan’s various instruments, little pieces of his new companions. And her. The first one is just a brief sketch, a scribble of what’s obviously her and Trinket. It’s cute, really.

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veritatem inquirendam [seek the truth] (frank castle)

(gif source)

(original request: AU in which Frank is younger, and he and reader are college students. There’s a heated debate in class and everyone disagrees with Frank except the reader. After that, Frank starts paying more attention to the reader and hanging out with her after class, until he realizes he’s falling in love but she has no idea he is until her best friend tells her.)

(this is terrible i LOVE college frank i love this soft soft boy. what a nerd. i hate him. no warnings on this one except mentions of food and some sexism early in the story!!!)

(tagslist: @doct0rstrange, @caryled, @kurtwxgners, @atari-writes ! if i’ve forgotten you or you wanna be added to the tagslist, just send me a message!!! <3)


The professor is wrong. She knows it, but she can’t say it. You can’t say “you’re fucking wrong” in front of a classroom of fourty kids. Instead of speaking her mind, she bites her tongue and clicks the cap of her pen up and down, up and down, trying to tune out the professor’s voice.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Betty and Jughead fall asleep in the blue & gold office while working their butts off trying to finish some articles. Betty's mom freaks out when she doesn't come home and thinks that Betty and Jughead were doing more than just napping together. She then locks Betty in her room and Jughead sneaks her out and they go on the adventure of your choice.

Sure thing! I hope you like it.


The Adventure


“Juggie, I’ve just got to finish this paragraph.” Betty promised.

Jughead yawned again and nodded.
“You can head home, Jug, I know you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Jughead shook his head this time and looked squarely at Betty. “No way, I’m going to walk you home.” Jughead smirked. “That’s what people like us do.”

“Okay, I’m almost done.” Betty smiled, clicking away on the computer keys.

Jughead yawned again and strolled over to the tiny couch in the corner of the office. Why there was a tiny couch in this room - or the lounge downstairs - he didn’t know. But at this moment, it was deeply appreciated.

Jughead propped his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out before him, resting them on a table.

He closed his eyes for just a second, listening to Betty’s beating of keys across the room.

He was comfortable but too warm, he decided. He shrugged out of his coat, then his flannel, leaving him in a tshirt and jeans.

He rested his head back against the top of the couch as Betty shuffled over to him.

“Ready, Jug?”

“Betty,” He started, cracking one eye open to look at her. “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable this old couch is.”

Betty smiled. “Oh yeah?”

Jughead reached out for her hand. “Sit with me.”

Betty did, cozying up to Jughead’s side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closely.

Jughead let out a deep breath, content.

Betty nuzzeled her head into Jughead’s chest and closed her eyes. He was right - this was comfortable.


Betty’s eyes opened as Jughead rearranged his hold on her - it was dark outside. Really, really dark. It was dark in here. Betty jumped up, looking for her phone. Shit, where was it? She was dead.

“Jughead, wake up! We fell asleep!” The panic was rising in her.

Betty could feel her usually taut ponytail slumping to one side of her head, pieces of hair falling over her face.

Jughead’s shirt was half way up his stomach, looking worse for wear. He was still asleep, a half smile crossing his face.

“Jughead!” Betty whispered again, shaking his shoulder.

His eyes cracked open this time, and the smile widened on his face. “‘Morning, Gorgeous.”

Betty couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s not morning,  Juggie, we fell asleep at school. My  mom is going to kill me when-”

They heard clicking down the school hall.

“Shit,” Betty whispered, throwing Jughead’s flannel at him. Where was her phone!?

The clicking of the shoes got louder and as Betty reached her desk - finally, there was her phone - The Blue and Gold office door flew open, Alice Cooper standing in the doorway.

“Elizabeth, do you have any idea what time it is?!” Alice roared into the room, looking prestine as always.

“No,” Betty said lamely.
“It’s after midnight. What were you-?” Alice zeroed in on Betty’s unruly hair, then scanned the room.

Jughead was fighting to get his flannel on.

“What the hell were the two of you doing in here?”

Betty looked over to Jughead trying to get his clothes on, the hat that had slumped to the back of his head. His tshirt was still slightly wrinkled and sat just above his bellybutton. She smoothed her hair down, knowing she looked guilty doing it.

“Nothing,” Betty said, head high. She knew what happened - and what didn’t. “We were just working on the paper, Mom.”

“I won’t have you acting like Polly did, Elizabeth.”

“We were working on the paper.” Betty said again.

Alice grabbed for Betty’s arm, steering her towards the door.

Jughead shrugged on his coat, following behind the Cooper women. He knew better than to say anything, but he still wanted to keep an eye on them.

It was a silent car ride back to the Coopers - Jughead squeezed Betty’s hand as she got in the car, but kept walking. He wasn’t crazy enough to ask Alice for a ride.

Alice had yelled at Betty for five minutes when they got home - she already had one pregnant daughter, she didn’t need to - despite Betty’s protests that she had the wrong idea of what had happened at school.

Alice had ended up locking Betty in her room, saying she would unlock the door in the morning.

“What if I have to pee?!” Betty called, rolling her eyes. Her mother was so dramatic.

Betty changed out of what she had worn to school and into leggings and a large sweater.

She sat down at the edge of her bed, head in her hands. If only Alice hadn’t walked in when she had - Betty barely had time to reflect on how much she had enjoyed her time with Jughead. The best sleep of her life, packed into just a few hours.

She smiled, and suddenly there was a quiet tap on her window.

Betty looked over at her window, a bigger smile spreading across her face as she saw Jughead. She slid open the window.

“You on house arrest?” Jughead smiled.

“She locked me in here!” Betty hissed.

“I guess she forgot you have two windows.”

Betty smiled and rolled her eyes.

“You up for an adventure?”

“What kind of adventure?”

“Do you trust me?” Jughead murmured.

“Of course I do.” Betty smiled. “Hold on.” She went to her bed, fluffing up her blankets and arranging the pillow just so, just in case. She knew her mother wouldn’t check on her - she would never expect her to climb out the window.

Betty walked back to the window, looking out to see Jughead already at the bottom, holding the ladder for her.

She quickly made her way to the bottom, taking Jughead’s hand as she stepped on the grass. “Where to?”

“I’ll show you.” Jughead smiled at Betty in the dark. They strolled down the sidewalks, passed Archie’s house, around a corner, until they came to a stop.

Betty recognized this house - it was Jughead’s old house.

“What are we doing here?” Betty whispered.

Jughead kept walking into the back yard, pulling Betty along with him. They stopped in front of an old treehouse.

“The treehouse!” Betty said excitedly. “I forgot about this thing!” Betty started climbing up the old wooden boards.

She ducked her head inside, Jughead following her quickly.

It looked exactly how she remembered it. There were drawings marked into the wood with crayon, a trunk full of comic books, a notebook full of doodles and ‘secret code’. There was a skipping rope, as well as a pack of gum and a tennis ball in the corner.

“The people that bought your house never checked in here?” Betty murmured as she sat in front of the comic book trunk.

“They’re elderly, they didn’t have any children. I heard that they were thinking of knocking it down, but it hasn’t happened yet.”  

Betty passed Jughead a comic book.

“I tried sleeping in here, once, after my dad started drinking again. It was pretty risky though - if anyone saw me, they’d call the cops and I’d be right back with him. Plus, it’s pretty uncomfortable.”

Betty looked at Jughead sadly. She had just recently learned about Jughead’s situation. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

They spent the next hour flipping through comic books, trying to decyfer the code in their notebook.

Jughead intertwined his fingers with Betty’s. “Ready for the next stop?” Jughead asked.

“There’s more?” Betty said excitedly.

The climbed out of the treehouse carefully, tiptoeing through the back yard, away from the house.

The night wasn’t too cold - there were stars shining above them, noises coming from different parts of the city around them.

They walked quickly, both of them excited. They gripped each other’s hands.

Eventually, they found the closed Drive-In.

Betty turned her head to look at Jughead, but he just smiled.

She followed him to the projection office.

He slipped a key out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

“They haven’t torn it down yet, obviously, and I just wanted you to see inside. I love it here.”

Betty followed him inside, looking around as she did so. “Jug, there’s so much stuff in here. Are you sure you don’t want any of it?”

She looked around, seperating her hand from his. She looked at the shelves, fingering the different rolls of film.

She looked at the different titles, noticing some of Jughead’s favorites.

Jughead was sitting on the small bed that fit into the room, playing with the pillow.

“Can you put one on?” Betty murmured.

“I can’t project it outside, in case someone sees. But I can play one for just us.” Jughead smiled, walking to the machine.

Jughead looked through the different titles, picking one and putting it on. The projector was loud.

“What’s this?” Betty asked, nodding her head to the movie.

“The Killing from 1956. It’s a Stanley Kubrick. It’s one of my favorite lesser-knowns.” Jughead murmured as the movie started.

Betty sat next to Jughead on the small bed, realizing why the Drive-In had meant so much to him. Not only did he love his job, it was his home.

Betty traced little patterns over Jughead’s skin absent-mindedly, both of them enjoying the movie.

Jughead leaned back, and Betty leaned back with him. She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the movie but enjoying his company more.

More than halfway through the movie, Jughead turned his head the best he could, trying to see Betty’s beautiful face.

“Betty?” He murmured.

She leaned forward, away from his chest, to look at him. “What?”

He grazed his lips slowly against hers before locking her lips between his. He had wanted to do that since they woke up at school.

They stayed like that, gently kissing in the dark, the light from the movie alighting their faces.

The movie reached the end of the roll, bringing Jughead back to reality.

“Okay,” He said, taking a deep breath. “One more surprise.”

Betty smiled and took his hand to get up off the makeshift bed.

“Jughead?” Betty said, stopping him before he had the chance to open the door. “Are you sure you don’t want any of these old movies?”

Jughead shook his head. How would be play them, anyway?

Betty nodded, grazing the shelf that held the film cannisters. It was dusty. She found the one she was looking for and slipped it in her sweater pocket.

“Ready?” Jughead smiled.

Betty nodded and took his hand, leaving the booth behind them.

She was surprised at how light the sky looked above them. Sure, they’d been out for hours. But Betty expected darkness - they left the house in darkness, after all.

They strolled through the grass, the dampness from the dew touching their ankles.

She knew better than to ask Jughead where they were going - he was a sucker for surprises. He wouldn’t ruin them.

They didn’t go far, just passed the Drive-In, there was a park that was hardly ever used.

They walked between the dense trees, spotting a play-structure for children, rows of swings and a teeter-totter.

Betty walked directly to the swings, sitting down in one. She expected Jughead to sit beside her, but he didn’t. He walked behind her, gently pushing on her back so that she would swing back and forth.

A smile spread across her face. She hadn’t been pushed on the swings since she was a toddler.

“Hey, what movie did you swipe from back there?” He laughed.

“A Rebel Without A Cause.” Betty admitted. “I feel like it’s our movie.” She blushed. “I wanted it, even if I don’t have anything to play it on. It’s ours.” She said.

Jughead was terrified - he hadn’t planned this night, it wasn’t elaborate. He had thought of it at the last minute, walking home by himself, thinking of the best sleep of his life that he had just awoken from.

Why not show all the places he loved most to the girl he loved most?

And then, he realized, that he had just come clean to himself. He loved Betty. He loved Betty?

He loved Betty and he was going to tell her.

He looked upwards towards the sky, then stopped pushing against her back. She swung gently a few times around him before coming to a stop.

“It’s almost time,” He said, a shy smile on his face. He walked around the front of her, extending a hand so she could jump down.

“Time for what?” She smiled.

They walked over to the grass, keeping each other’s hand in their grasp.

Jughead pulled her down onto the dew-soaked grass, then layed down. Betty did the same.

The sky changed from the dark, intense blue to a lighter blue, stars disappearing.

Eventually they saw whisps of clouds appear, dotting the sky. There were purples and pinks decorating the sky above them.

Jughead turned his head to look at Betty - she was smiling, in awe.

“I’ve never watched a sunrise before,” Betty murmured.

“Betty, I love you.” He rushed out. There. There was no taking it back, no pretending it didn’t happen.

She was the first person beside his father, sister or mom that he had said that too.

Betty rolled onto her elbows, propped up to look at him.

“You love me?” She whispered.

Jughead nodded slightly. “I love you.” He whispered back.

“I love you, Jughead.” She smiled. “This was the best night of my life.” She murmured, dipping her head lower to kiss him.

Jughead kissed her back, tears pricking his eyes. The girl he loved, loved him too. He blinked them away, breaking the kiss.

“You’re missing the sunrise.” He murmured.

“You’re better than the sunrise.” She smiled, kissing him once more.

They stayed like that until the sky was light. They stood up, clothing wet, hand in hand.

“We better get you home before your mom realizes. I don’t want her to castrate me.” Jughead said lightly.

Betty shook her head. “Me neither. I wouldn’t let her touch you, though. Nobody touches the person I love.” She smiled, bumping her hip against him.

“That’s my girl.” He laughed.

The Notebook Ch.1

Title: The Notebook
Character: Lin X Reader
Prompt: When the reader runs into Lin in the airport, (literally “runs” into him), an accidental notebook swap occurs in the confusion, and they go home with each other’s work.
Word Count: 2,859 (wowie)
W/T: none???
A/N: wow it’s been a while. Two things; 1, this is literally a dream I had. 2, I blame @secretschuylersister for wearing off on me enough to write this.
~SJ

———

The blinding lights and bustling streets of New York only seem like background noise to you at this point in your life. You’ve lived here since you graduated college, and it hasn’t been as bad as you’d originally thought. Sure, the towering skyscrapers and ceaseless shouting or honking outside of your apartment was much different than the silent cricket chirps outside of your family’s home back in Missouri, but it was a much needed change.

In fact, living in New York has changed your life completely. You were still the same kiddo from the small country town back home, aspiring to do great things. You still said “y'all”. You still lived off of sweet tea. You still had all of your little traits you’d gained from growing up there. But once you hit New York? “Culture Shock” was really the only way to describe it.

It seemed like you were never alone in the “City that Never Sleeps”. The streets were never empty, the lights glaring from the billboards outside of your window were your new night stars, and you always saw something new everyday. It’s was probably one of the best places for you to be with your dream job; writing. A new thing seen on the side of the street fueled a new song lyric, a new poem, a new story, and new something. You were constantly jotting stuff down in your favorite black notebook, usually adding to your current project; a musical.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want me to go get you something before you leave for the airport?” Your roommate’s voice inquires from the opposite side of the dining room table, her head resting in her hand defeatedly from her work. You don’t even bother to peal your eyes away from your page, frantically scribbling down yet another lyric for one of your main characters. “Nah, I’ll probably just grab something quick on the way to the airport. Thanks though, Ky.” She raises an eyebrow at you, obviously doubting that you will. “Uh huh. Like all of those other times that you’ve said that you’ll get something to eat on the way out, and proceed to not go out, continue to write in that stupid notebook of yours, and stay up until I wake up the next morning?”

“Okay okay, you’ve got me there.” You breathe, allowing for her to pull the black leather bound pages away from you. “But what can I say, Ky? I’m basically a writing machine, I just can’t help it. There’s too many ideas locked up inside of my mind to not write them all down. I wanna share them with the world!”

“You can keep writing about those silly little characters you’ve got after you eat something, Y/N. There’s my leftovers in the fridge I’ll let you have if you eat them right now.” Kylie offers, gesturing to the stainless steel door behind her. “Yeah yeah, okay. No need to blackmail me here.” You retort, rolling your eyes and nudging her aside. Slipping your hand around the cool handle, you yank the door open and pull out the white styrofoam box, ready to devour it in order to keep writing. “You never talk to me about anything besides your stupid musical now, Y/N. I wanna talk about other stuff.” Kylie huffs, flopping into the wooden chair across from yours at the table.

“That came out of nowhere.” You chuckle, settling back into your spot, this time eating instead of writing. “I know, but I feel like you’ve just been kinda distant lately. I don’t think you’ve actually talked to me about your life for at least a month-oh my god you’ve never talked to me about your love life. Tell me. Now.” Kylie gushes, her eyes widening at the thought of not knowing. “I’ve never talked about it because it’s non-existent.” You joke through a mouthful of a quesadilla. “When was your last relationship?” She questions, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with concern. You simply shrug. “Last kiss?” “Never had one.” “Last time you were in love?!” “Does the kid I hated in 1st grade count?”

“Oh my god, why have you never told me that you’re helpless?!” Kylie cries, flailing her hands around frantically. “I didn’t realize that my love life was a big deal to you?” You snort, suddenly reconsidering if you should’ve just lied to her and said you had a boyfriend. Wow, that actually did make you sound really lonely. Nice going. “Um, hello?! Being in love is one of the-no, IS the best feeling in the world?!”

“Love is a choice, not really an emotion, KyKy.” You correct, gently pointing your fork at her in correction. Or at least, that’s what you’ve always known it as. Throughout high school, you saw relationship after relationship go strong for a solid three months, and then crash and burn because the “feeling just wasn’t there” and they’d already moved on to a new lover. You never understood how people could just hook up because of “a feeling”, and then not try to fix it if they thought it was that important. It’s always seemed like it should be an effort from both parties, not just “run with this instinct”. That and everyone in your school were a bunch of idiots.

“Wow. Okay I need to take you out with me sometime, you’re going to get a boyfriend to call your own.” Kylie breathes, making it sound like it’s going to be a hassle. “Hey! I’m perfectly lovable, thank you very much.” You snap, narrowing your eyes at her. “Oh are you now, little Miss No-Love-Life?” She throws back just as quickly. “By the sounds of it, you really aren’t.”

“Well it’s not just that nobody’s ever had a crush on me, I can name off a couple. It’s a matter of them not sharing the same ideals and such as me.” “Oh, please do go on. I’m curious of what these ideals could possibly be.” Kylie teases, leaning into her hands playfully.

“Simple. None of them have ever understood my love for writing, how I need to throw my thoughts onto paper, how I want too make something out of thin air.” There were a couple of people from high school you can remember having a bit of a thing for you, but at the same time you can remember how you cast them away way too quickly when you got to know them. In retrospect, you were probably kinda cruel to them, but you’ve always stood by what you learned from growing up. Your stubbornness wasn’t about to give in on the one thing that you’ve always loved.

“Oh, so you want someone who’s just as insane as you about writing, so that you two can die together because you forgot about your needs for survival? Got it.” Kylie laughs, still in disbelief that guys had crushes on you. “Whatever, Ky. Just give me my notebook back already, I’ve gotta get going.” You fume, shoving the empty takeout box at her from across the table. “Okay, geez. Didn’t know you were such a crabby person when you’re away from your paper.” She sighs, handing back your notebook. “Most people would get upset if you held their child hostage.”

“Wow, you really are obsessed with that thing, aren’t you?”

“Goodbyeeeee Kylie.” You draw out, wrapping your hand around the handle of your luggage, and tossing your backpack over your shoulder as you head for the front door. “Waitwaitwaitwait.” She fumbles, racing towards you. She wraps her thin arms around you, embracing you tightly. “Stay safe, Y/N. And find yourself a boyfriend while you’re at it.” You roll your eyes jokingly and hug back, the resentment from moments ago melting away.

“Okay, now get going you lug. I want the apartment to myself for as long as I can get.” Kylie finishes, gently pushing you out the door and into the complex’s hallway. “Whatever. I’ll see you in two weeks, you snot.” You call back, rolling your bag towards the elevator.

Tucking an earbud into your ear, you bury your phone into your pocket and pull you pencil out from behind your other ear, already jotting some more stuff down about your main characters and their backgrounds. Maybe have them meet at a party? No, that’s too High School Musical-y. Maybe in the park? Meh, cliché. What about if they just run into each other somewhere-literally run into each other? That’s a good one, adds to the comedic effect. Would their best friends push them back together? Is there going to be a huge fight, or will there be a tragedy for one of them that makes the super withdrawn? Why not both? Will one of them die in the end? Will one of them leave and fall for someone else? Will there be a happily ever after-ew no. Happy endings always happen by happenstance, and it’s just not logical. That doesn’t happen in the real world. No happy endings.

Thoughts continue to flood through your mind and onto the paper as you hit the outside of your apartment building and whistle for a taxi, hoping that one stops within the next five minutes. Luckily, the first one manages to see you and pulls over, letting you climb in the back. The driver’s gruff voice calls to you, “Where ya headed?”. “JFK.” You quickly respond, scratching something out on another page just to rewrite the idea. “Ya don’t sound like yer from ‘round here, little lady. You headed back home or sometin’?” He asks curiously, his voice rather warm and inviting, like your favorite uncle or something.

“Is it that easy to tell?” You laugh, forcing yourself away from your journal for a little bit to keep a conversation with him. “Trust me, lil’ lady, I’ve had ma fair share of outta-towners in this her’ girl. Ya sound kinda southern, but not really. Midwest maybe?” He guesses, tilting his dark sunglasses down to look at you from his rearview mirror. “You’re good.” You nod, smiling at his correct answer. “That’s what I thought.” He smirks, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Anytin’ in particular yar’ leavin’ for?”

“Nothing more than returning home for a couple of weeks at this point. Maybe busting with some old friends, who knows.” You answer distantly, the thoughts of what could happen at home overcoming you for a moment. There’s so many people you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. And you haven’t seen your dog in ages, either. “Simple 'nuff. Wish I could go back home fer’ a lil’ bit, ya know? Get ta visit with ma Nana again, see how she’s been doin’.”

“How long has it been since you’ve gone home?” You question, taking in his features as you do so. A bit larger, receding hairline pretty evident, dark sideburns, and an impressive beard to match. They all seem to fit his voice perfectly. “Uh, let’s see her’. Probably when I graduated, so… Eleven ye-nah, that’s too short. Probably somewhere closer ta fifteen or so, s'uppose.” He draws out, scratching his curly beard. “Fifteen years?!” You instinctively blurt out, instantly regretting it. “Ya, I’ve been stuck up her’ in da Big Apple fer’ a long while now, ya know? I just haven’t really given myself a chance ta get outta her’. Glad ya can, doh. Helps lift ma spirits a bit, seein’ ya off.”

“Speakin’ a which, her’ ya are, lil’ lady! The famous plane port of da Big Apple!” He presents, parking the cab along the curb next to the front entrance. You blink a bit, taking in the sudden appearance of the airport and its towering parts. “Oh wow. We got here fast. How much do I owe you?” You start pulling your wallet out of your backpack, but a gentle, calloused hand sets itself on your shoulder. Slightly confused, you turn towards the front seat, only to be greeted by the same smiling face as before.

“No charge fer’ ya, lil’ lady. It’s been a bit since I’ve had a good ol’ conversation with someone, ya know? Ever'one her’ is always in a rush and snappy, wantin’ ta get somewhere quick. Thank ya for given ma a good laugh today.”

You don’t know how to respond. Your mouth has opened to try and deter him, but nothing comes out, which only makes his grin wider and more toothy. “Now get a move on, lil’ lady. Don’t want ya ta be a missin’ dat flight of ya’s cuz’ I’m bein’ nice.”

Flabbergasted, you slowly climb out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk, bag and notebook in hand, and watch the dandelion yellow taxi pull away, leaving a thin cloud of exhaust in its wake. You glance down at your watch, the minute hand hovering over the 6 is all the indication you need to start booking it to your gate.

Weaving between as many people as you can while still jotting stuff down about that taxi driver in your notebook, you hurry across the airport, trying to multitask and catch your plane all in due time. It’s not as hard as you thought it would be, considering everyone was clearing a path for you as you plowed towards them.

Well, except one person.

Your notebook goes clambering to the glossy tile floor as you topple to the ground, your backpack slipping off of your shoulder and your luggage rolling out of reach. Your back crashes against the hard ground, and your lungs collapse in on themselves for a moment on impact. Thank god you had the wind knocked out of you for a second, because if you hadn’t, you probably would’ve said something utterly embarrassing about the rather cute guy on top of you, his face inches from yours.

“Oh shi- I’m so sorry! Here lemme-uh-…” He fumbles, trying to push himself off of you as quickly as possible without making it more awkward. He manages it, (somehow), and offers you a hand, which you take, a bit dazed from the impact still. Wow, he’s stronger than he looks. “Uhhh…” He sounds off, awkwardly brushing some invisible dust off of your clothes. “Sorry about that. I get kinda caught up in my head sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine, I do too. I should’ve looked where I was going in the first place.” You apologize, leaning down to pick up your notebook. “Oh, let me get that for you.” He instantly states, snatching it up in his hands. “Huh, this one looks like the one I have.” He chuckles slightly, patting his pocket for a second before going into a panic. “Wait, where is my notebook?” He stammers out, spinning around to look for it.

“Oh, is this it?” You ask, picking up an identical notebook to yours next to your slightly rolled away luggage. His face immediately softens at the sight of it, his eyes almost brightening. “Wow, we really are a mess, huh?” He laughs nervously, swapping notebooks with you.

“Y/N.”

“Lin.”

A single best of silence passes between the two of you, before your watch beeps at you. You glance down to it to see that your flight leaves in five minutes, and panic washes over you. “Sorry Lin, but I don’t wanna miss my plane. Nice talking to you!” You shout over your shoulder as you take off in a dead sprint for your exit, which is now within sight.

Frantically waving down the flight attendant like in the movie Home Alone, she graciously reopens the door to the plane for you, and you quickly take to your seat, pushing your carry on into whatever overhead space you can find.

The seatbelt light flickers on overhead, and you try to settle into place. Luckily, not many people are on the flight to St. Louis, so you have the row to yourself. The flight attendants flow into the isle to do their normal routine of safety, but you tune them out and set your notebook on your lap, digging out a pencil from your backpack, ready to write again. That taxi driver really gave you a new idea for a character that helps advance the plot of your musical.

Flipping open to a random page, you skim over everything, trying to find the right area to start again. Let’s see, Laurens and Hamilton have a thing for each other, Angelica has a thing for Hamilton, Jefferson is a magenta ass-wait. Since when did you have a Laurens? Or a Hamilton? Or an Angelica? Or a Jefferson? When did they all develop a thing for each other? This handwriting doesn’t look like yours, it’s too nice for scribbles.

You thumb through the other pages, becoming more and more frantic as you see the same penmanship sprawling across the other yellowing pages. Where did all of your work go?! When did it get replaced with this- this- what do you even call this?!

Then it hits you. The clumsy yet cute man that tackled you. The awkwardness of the encounter. The panic over notebooks.

Oh no.

Lin has your notebook.

And you have his.

———–

Please give me feedback on this story, because I’ve been away so long!

What I Like

Originally posted by sugutie

Excited chatter fills the room as students trickle in for the first day of class. Spirits are high, outfits are cute, hair is neat and makeup is perfect; you give it a few weeks until everyone is miserable and dressing in sweatpants with messy hair and no makeup. But until then you’re stuck at the front of the room, quietly waiting for the professor to enter and bring some semblance of order to the chaos.

You have no interest in public speaking and you don’t plan on going into the business field but you have a social science slot to fill and you heard from your business major friend that this class is an easy A. However, she failed to mention exactly what was required of the class and the moment the professor passes around the stack of syllabi, you’re only a few seconds away from getting up and leaving.

“I’m sure that many of you have heard that this course is an easy A,” the professor laughs as he takes his place at the front of the room, “and I’ll concede that this is true. If you are capable of working with another person.” There’s a mix of groans, cheers, and noncommittal hums before the professor motions for silence. “I know,” he laughs, “some of you are incredibly excited while others are incredibly annoyed. Either way, if you stay in this class then you have to work together. The last day to drop is next Friday. If you’re going to drop, I ask that you do it sooner rather than later. I’m going to announce your pairs today and if your partner happens to drop, we’ll figure something out. And you did hear me correctly. I will assign the partners, I want you to get to know a stranger. If you’ve met your partner before, that’s fine. If you’re best friends and have known each other for years, let me know and changes will be made. I’ll call roll and then we’ll get started.”

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Tears Are What Makes You Human

I’m the one they tell stories about.

Never more than a hushed voice, or a hurried whisper in passing, but I know. In my classes I always have at least one spot open on either side of me. In line at the cafeteria the older students look back to make sure they aren’t taking the last thing they think I might want. I know no one’s birth name, not even those I might consider a friend.

I know exactly when the change was too, in how my fellow students view me.

My dormmate had disappeared for a night before returning, pupils a little too slitted to not be like Them, but who was I to say anything? The change was not unusual at campus, and Hay had been more depressed than before anyway. Staying out late, carrying more candy than iron or salt.

No one said art majors weren’t already a little Lost.

We had never really gotten along greatly, but he had been a grounding presence for me, an easy source of chatter to draw me out of the math calculations that consumed me. I don’t know why I chose Elsewhere U as my university, seeing as I had planned on being a civil engineer, but I had been drawn into the beauty of it when I toured the campus. Our group of 15 had returned as a group of 16, but details.

After Not Hay had taken over, I noticed small things. Batteries missing from my calculators, thrown in the waste bin and covered with crumpled papers. All the fruit gone from our shared mini fridge, replaced with food that looked a little too ripe for the season. I started eating at the cafeteria more often after that. My side of the room was always left untouched, but I still left more ramen seasoning packets under my pillow and in my dresser. July had told me it was better to be safe than sorry, words that campus lived by.

Not Hay would try and help me with my homework sometimes in exchange for me playing a small tune my Nana had taught me on a fiddle that had been passed through generations, but they weren’t much help. I always told them I appreciated the effort though, a small nod of my head that could be interpreted as a bow.

But that’s not why I’m the one they tell stories about.

The finals for the first semester of the year had creeped up on me, resulting in many nights staying awake on at my desk fueled by nothing but energy drinks and cafe mochas as I worked on advanced quantum physics questions. I had just wanted to build bridges, not understand how the universe worked on a quark scale. I could tell I was upsetting Not Hay by the icy looks I felt on my back. Not that Not Hay slept.

I don’t remember how long I was in the library before, or how I got so far back in between the shelves of books whose names I couldn’t pronounce, but I had found a desk and an outlet, and honestly what more did a university student need as they crammed for their final that was worth 75% of their grade.

I had been working over the same problem for over an hour, several steps needed to find the final value but I was stuck on the very first one. I could have been muttering to myself, or maybe They had just sensed my panic. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in several days, even if I had seen Not Hay most of the time. Not Hay never seemed to speak while I was in the room, something I had been thankful for at the time.

“Are you alright?”

The voice had started me so badly I had marked up my paper with a twitch of my pen. I remember trying to find my voice, knowing it was rude to leave a question unanswered. The girl in front of me seemed to take my silence as an answer anyway. She had looked over my station of worn down pencils, crumpled up papers, and my long empty coffee mug I had taken to stabbing in distracted worry, intelligent eyes scanning my notes before looking at me again. Her freckles reminded me of constellations, the way they appeared and disappeared across her pale skin like stars.

“Are you happy?”

Her voice seemed to come from behind me, even as I was facing her. Looking back, she could have been trying to get me to make a deal with her, but at the time all I could do was cry. No one had asked me if I was happy for years, my family pushing me to follow the lineage of engineers before me and my classmates too caught up in their own studies to notice.

I didn’t answer again, instead letting my head fall to the desk as I sobbed. A cold hand was placed on the crown of my head cautiously. That was all the invitation I had needed before I had thrown myself at the girl and sobbed in her arms.

I missed my final.

Not that it would have mattered.

I had cried myself to sleep, for once not dreaming of failing out of school, but instead of a tall and spindly creature with hair as fine as spun silver and eyes as white as snow. They soothed me, the same voice as the girl from before ringing through my ears. When I woke up I was much closer to the entrance of the library than I had been before, my textbook and notebooks stacked neatly and my coffee cup gone.

I looked at my notes, unable to read anything.

I don’t know if it had been a curse for dirtying Their clothes with my tears, or a pitied gift meant to free me in exchange for my tears, but either way I grew to be grateful for it.

I switched majors after a brief conversation with a guidance counselor. I could still do everything up to basic calculus, and so decided I’d look at teaching careers instead. I had always liked children, and the small town at the bottom of the hill had opened a new primary school suddenly.

But that’s not why I am the one they tell stories about.

They tell stories about me because I had been given the Sight when the Fair One had taken my ability to cry.

I have been having lovely conversations with Not Hay lately. About riddles and dances, all smiles and twisted words as students hurry by us, pretending not to hear the hiss in our voices.

[x]

Halfway (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You and Lin are extremely domestic, but not dating. Lin asks you to move in with him anyways.
Low-key inspired by this quote:
“Date someone who meets you halfway. Date someone who brings you a glass a water when they get themselves one. Date someone who makes sure you don’t spend money on ridiculous things. Date someone your ex hates and your mom loves. Date someone who’d rather spend a Friday night watching movies, than out with 50 people they barely even talk to. Date someone who sleeps on your chest and leaves a little puddle of drool. Don’t date someone who makes you leave oceans of tears.”

Word Count: 1,203

Warnings: Cheesy ending? Mentions of jazz? I’m not sure. 

A/N: Hi! I’m back at it again. Never in a million years did I think I’d ever get a single note on any of my writing, so the fact that I did get notes just has me over the moon. I might have a few fics already planned out because I have a free weekend and zero chill?

Side note: If you don’t know who Miles Davis is and have the time you should watch the movie Miles Ahead. Guy was wack.
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“Cariña,” Lin softly called out to you, drawing your attention away from your notebook. You looked up to see him offering you a glass of water and you were suddenly aware of how dry your throat was. You had spent a considerable amount of time with your only form of communication being the words you were scrawling across the pages of your notebook. You dropped your pen into the pages and set it aside, flexing your hand before accepting the glass with a grateful smile.

“Thank you, love.” you cooed back, taking a large drink. You set it on the edge of his desk that was only a few feet away from the window seat you were currently sitting in. He sat at his desk, flipping open his laptop, the screen illuminating his face in a way that the diminishing sunlight had ceased to do hours ago. This was your usual spot, Lin working away at his desk while you sat in the window overlooking New York. Your eyes had been drawn back to the pages causing you to miss the way Lin looked up at you, admiring the curve of your lips and the glint of your eyes as your mind seemed to pick right back up where your pen had previously stopped. There was a time when you had used to move straight out of his line of vision the moment he sat down at his desk, much to his dismay. It took a couple of weeks until Lin finally got the nerve to tell you to stay where you were and it had been your designated space ever since.

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