How I imagine Ivys attempt at controlling Oswald will go
<b>Ivy:</b> *trying to get Oswald to do her bidding by speaking the way she knows men like*<p/><b>Oswald:</b> "Why are you talking like that, woman?"<p/><b>Ivy:</b> *frustratedly blows mind-altering flower dust into Oswald's face*<p/><b>Oswald:</b> "Ivy..."<p/><b>Ivy:</b> "Okay, great, now what I need is for you to--"<p/><b>Oswald:</b> "... If I wanted to smell like a two dollar whore I would pop down to the shop and get whatever fragrance it is that you seem to be wearing. Whatever scent you just tried to test out on me is absolutely not my style. Don't ever do that again."<p/></p>
So, unfortunately there are many causes of small growths like this. Luckily most are benign but in order to be absolutely sure it isn't cancer we need to biopsy it. I would be very surprised if it came back cancerous but we still need to test it.
So you don't know?
100%? No. It could be an adenoma, follicular cyst, lipoma, or maybe cancer. Biopsy is the only way to tell.
Well, that's probably an all day thing right?
No. This is so small I could do it under a local and it would take maybe 30 minutes from start to finish. Lemme get an estimate for you.
Thats outrageous. It's just a bump.
Well, the histopath is the only way to get a diagnosis. Honestly, I truly believe you can just monitor it for now.
Ok. I guess.
Waste of time and money. The vet charged us $50 only to say he didn't know then demanded we pay more for an answer. He held our dog's health hostage. Do yourself a favor, go somewhere that cares about your pets.
Being a Musical Theatre Major at a Performing Arts School: The Musical
I've got bills, they're multiplying!
I still can't f*cking paaaaay last year's rent!
I am writing a thesis on Joan!....and Shakespeare....and writing a monologue for stage acting....and transposing for vocal 1.....and memorizing a script....all in one night.....help me.
Memory! I wish mine was better. Because I can't remember, the answers to this test.
A chorus line:
"So, did you high school drama class help you in any way?"
*Beings to belt "Nothing."*
I need cash now! I'm a student in deeeeept. I don't care how! I'm a student in deeeeeept!
The Lion King:
NAAAAAAAHICANTAFFORDANYTNINGOTHERTHANAPIIIIZZZAA AND NOODLES.
Look at my name on the casting list! The directors know that I exist!
Phantom of the Opera:
The final of the opera is near, it hurts my brain.
We all deserve to pass! Tell you why my professor, you big ass! I've had to work two jobs, Mr professor. That's right, two, that's right, two, that's right, two. All while trying to hand in my essays! And auditing for the college plays! You've only got this one job to do! Yes we all deserve to pass! Every single person here in this class!
Into the Woods:
Into my class I have to go! I hate to leave, I have to though. Into my class and so it's time I must leave this tiny dorm room.
I wish I was home, I wish I was back there. Where I don't have to pay rent!
My grades are starting to go dooooooooown.
I'm re-reading the notes you taught me. I'm searching and scanning for answers. In every line, for some kind of sign.
For your AU post! I LOVE secretly married Aus, so how about one of those? I'm thinking IronPanther, maybe? Or IronFalcon! One of those (first one would be preferred, but both are great!), they've known each other much longer than in canon (obviously) and for some reason their relationship get's made public/ the other avengers find out?
Oh man do I enjoy Secretly Married AUs!! The drama, anon. The drama. Also fluff. Please fluff because unhappy endings break my heart. Anyways, I like both pairings, so I’m just gonna go with IronPanther. Btw this turned into a Post CW ficlet that focuses mostly on Tony and T’Challa, I hope that’s alright!
It happens on their fifteen year anniversary because of course it does. The universe refuses to grant them a single moment of peaceful happiness after all. Looking back Tony really doesn’t know how he didn’t see this coming.
And it’s so unfair because the last six months have been hard on the both of them. The last two years, to be honest. With the whole Civil War mess, T’Chaka’s death, the fighting and betrayal–well, Tony wishes he could say he was able to keep those events from affecting his marriage, but that would be nothing more than wishful thinking. The first time they had been fighting side by side and T’Challa had been in too much pain, too blinded by his desire for revenge for him to enjoy the moment, never mind that he’d been fighting against half his team. Then there was the matter of Siberia, of his husband taking Rogers and Barnes with him and leaving Tony behind and-
There’s a hand on his shoulder, warm and grounding, the pleasantly familiar sound of T’Challa’s voice, talking to him, slowly drowning out the ugly thoughts in Tony’s head.
He takes a shaky breath, blinks, meets his husband’s worried gaze. “Sorry,” he thinks he mumbles, and wishes the trembling would stop already.
It hasn’t been a good day. Not after someone–the Dora Milaje are already looking into it–leaked those pictures of them to the international press. Tony wants to laugh, but it ends up coming out as more of a hysterical sob.
Fifteen years. They’ve managed to keep their marriage a secret for fifteen years. Sure, they have been times they both wished the hiding would stop, but there had never quite been the right moment to announce it, and now? After everything? They were still trying to do damage control with the fall-out from the Accords, Tony honestly isn’t sure whether there could have been much of a worse moment for this to be revealed.
Forget the UN and Ross for a moment, how would Rogers and his little band of followers take the news? Their presence in Wakanda couldn’t become known, at this stage it might lead to an actual war against the country and-
“Hush, my heart,” T’Challa’s voice rings strong and clear in Tony’s ears, and he allows himself to sink back into his husband’s arms, until his head is resting against T’Challa’s chest, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat.
“What are we gonna do?” Tony whispers, hopeless and worried and so, so, tired.
“We will figure something out,” T’Challa replies without hesitation, cards his hand through Tony’s hair. “Our marriage is not something I have ever been ashamed of, beloved, nor should we be. It is a bond of joy and love, that should be honoured. Ultimately there is nothing anyone can do. We have broken no laws, nor do we owe the world an explanation. And I will be glad to walk proudly by your side, instead of watching you across yet another hall.“
Almost against his will, Tony can feel himself relaxing, soaking up the utter calmness T’Challa exudes, the easy confidence soothing his frayed nerves. Rationally he knows they have faced much, much worse, knows that even though things aren’t gonna be easy, this particular issue will eventually be solved–but T’Challa makes him believe it, without hesitation or doubt.
“Love you,” he says into the high-quality shirt he’s burrowed his face in–it’s so soft too, Tony approves of his husband’s taste–because he can’t think of anything else to say. Most people would describe Tony as ‘incapable of shutting up’ but when it comes to his personal relationships, he has never been the most articulate.
The arms around him tighten, and he can hear T’Challa’s smile in his responding, “I love you too, my heart.”
“Be at ease for now, we will deal with this issue later. And get you to a hair dresser as soon as possible,” he adds after a moment, teasingly pulls on a strand of Tony’s admittedly rather unruly hair.
A cut hasn’t been on his mind for months, and he can’t help laughing–at T’Challa’s antics, the situation, everything. He doesn’t need to look up to know that this has been T’Challa’s intention from the start, simply squeezes his hand in silent appreciation.
They’ve got this. They really do.
[The confrontation with the rogue Avengers is as ugly as T’Challa has expected it to be. The only positive side of this is that Tony isn’t anywhere near to hear the commotion, T’Challa might have been forced to kill someone otherwise. As it is, there isn’t much to be said about it, in the end. His marriage isn’t a recent thing, it doesn’t change the actual situation. Not that you’d believe as much, if you listen to Clint Barton’s poisonous rant. At least Captain Rogers’ indignant rant is silenced with a sharp reminder that trust only reaches as far as it is extended.
“Your mind is your own, but any insult against my husband is an insult against myself. I suggest you keep that in mind!” has been the only warning T’Challa is willing to grant them. His patience isn’t limitless and certain guests have been testing those limits for some time now.]
A little more than 500 words of pure, utter fluff, posted at @sky-girls‘s request. You might drown in how cheesy this actually turned out and all I can say is, I’m not really sorry.
I wrote this with a playlist in the background, but the idea (and title) are from this song.
Her hair. It fell on her shoulders in beautiful waves, framing
her face and highlighting her crystal clear green eyes. Looking too soft to not
make him long to touch it, he hoped she’d never wear it in a ponytail.
Sometimes, when a strand went loose, he gently brushed it back behind her ear
and he always wanted to do it again.
His mind. Like poison in his veins, she took control
over him. At some point, every cell carried thoughts of her. Dreams revolved
solely around Luna, especially the ones he had at daytime. Only with her by his
side did the storm inside calm down. Without her, though, concentrating on
anything turned into a new-found challenge. After some weeks, Gastón even ran
out of puns to make about it, which Matteo had never believed to be possible.
His eyes. Looking at her became a drug, giving him a rush
he couldn’t and didn’t want to escape. Whenever she entered the room, his gaze
drifted towards her. No matter how hard he tried to resist, he inevitably
turned towards her light. She was so bright, and so beautiful, he wanted to
look at her forever.
His ears. Her voice was his new favorite sound. He had a
message of her on his phone and he’d never delete it. When sleep didn’t come
because he got too lost in thinking about her, he listened to it until his eyes
fell shut. Hearing her laugh turned into a mission, just like singing with her
at every opportunity. It was never enough.
Her lips. Every day, hours passed by where these perfect
curves filled his head, along with the question how they’d feel. He wanted to
kiss her. Badly. Once in a while, he caught her biting her lip and it haunted
him. Her smile too. It also awakened him, like he had been blind before he got
to watch the corners of her mouth curl up.
His heart. She caused him cardiac arrhythmia, making his
heartbeat a mess: skipping beats, only to speed up when she smiled, clenching
and drowning in the love he felt. A smile threw him off already, or the way she
said his name.
Her touch. Intertwining his fingers with her – even if
only for skating – felt like a match made in heaven. Jolts of electricity leaped
all over him whenever her skin brushed his. And mostly they forgot about personal
space around each other, hugging, resting their hands on top of each other’s
and sitting next to each other, always too close.
His stomach. Matteo had never been aware of how alive the
human body was before he met his chica delivery. Just like his heart, the
sensations in his gut changed more often than the weather. Butterflies inside
turned into a huge knot when Simón hugged her a little too long or filled his
every vein when she greeted Matteo the same way.
His knees. When she smiled at him, they started shaking,
throwing him back in time to when he learned skating and every step felt
insecure and weak. But this time, he wasn’t afraid of falling anymore. Because
with her, he’d be safe.
he fell in love a little more, deeper and deeper until he couldn’t remember
life without her. Luna had enchanted him, body and soul. Matteo never wanted
her to stop.
How to make an Aries friend:
Give them their space, be enthusiastic and optimistic. Engage in friendly competitions with them and be generous.
How to make an Aries enemy:
Compete with them over everything and BEAT them. Be aloof and shut them down. Boss them around and pressure them.
How to make a Taurus friend:
Follow their advice and be a realist. Talk to them about their interests, be understanding. Don't cause drama.
How to make a Taurus enemy:
Impose your will on them and restrict them. Turn their life into a roller coaster and constantly change your mind. Betray them deeply.
How to make a Gemini friend:
Be intelligent and sociable. Prepare for friendly banter and talk about different things.
How to make a Gemini enemy:
Make the assumption that their flexibility is fakeness. Expose their exterior confidence as a facade and let the world know how broken they are inside. It takes a lot to get under their skin - drop their biggest secret.
How to make a Cancer friend:
You'll need to indulge in their sappy side and listen to them. Let them take care of you but understand when they need taking care of as well. Get along well with their friends and family.
How to make a Cancer enemy:
Hurt one of their family members of closest friends. Destroy their ego and insist no one will ever love them because of their emotional instability.
How to make a Leo friend:
Pay lots of attention to them - but know when to give space. Be very flattering - but only if you truly mean it. Show them that you listen to them and remember things they say.
How to make a Leo enemy:
Crush their trust. They are extremely generous but when they found out they've been taken advantage of, that's the worst thing you can do to them. Constantly insult them regarding their insecurities.
How to make a Virgo friend:
Don't be petty, you've got to be direct. Don't test their patience. Understand when they need to be alone.
How to make a Virgo enemy:
Cause chaos in their life. Nitpick at their flaws and cause them to snap in public.
How to make a Libra friend:
Be extremely friendly and optimistic. Being popular and attractive really helps. Have a good sense of humor and remind them of things they need to do - they often forget.
How to make a Libra enemy:
Spread a rumor about them that can destroy their social life. They need to be around others, and cutting off their friendships will anger them to no end.
How to make a Scorpio friend:
Don't be loud and obnoxious. Be honest and direct, be prepared to talk about things you don't normally discuss. Be somewhat of a mystery, they'll enjoy figuring you out.
How to make a Scorpio enemy:
Humiliate them in public. Reveal their weaknesses. Fight them and prove them wrong.
How to make a Sagittarius friend:
Have an honest heart and an open mind. Be ready for adventuring and doing the wildest things. Travel the world with them.
How to make a Sagittarius enemy:
Cut their freedom off, control their actions and words. Lack of freedom is the only thing that truly angers Sagittarius.
How to make a Capricorn friend:
Be hardworking but not competitive. Share similar values - they're usually conservative. Give them their space but don't make them chase you. Spend time really getting to know them.
How to make a Capricorn enemy:
Sabotage their work, make them miss a very important opportunity. Or, beat them at something and destroy their dreams and continue to rub it in their face.
How to make an Aquarius friend:
Be wild yet proper, friendly yet an enigma. They love talking, so always have discussions with them and explore the world with them.
How to make an Aquarius enemy:
Prove them wrong. They're incredibly confident and cocky and this is the one thing they will remember and hold a grudge about forever.
How to make a Pisces friend:
Listen to them, participate in their favorite activities. Don't judge them, let them take you in and overwhelm you, but don't run.
How to make a Pisces enemy:
You wouldn't want to, their hearts are bigger than the ocean and their souls have the same depth and warmth as the seas. If you really must, force them to face reality. Bring up their past. Make them face the weight of the world on their shoulders.
6 year old cousin:
what does shipping people mean?
shipping is the concept of a fictional couple; to "ship" a couple means to have an affinity/Liking for it in one way or another; a "shipper" or a "fangirl/boy" is somebody significantly involved with such an affinity/liking..
who do you ship?
I tend to torture myself by shipping couples that may never happen like Lena and Kara,always remember love is love as long as it's consensual and both parties are adults or kids..
isn't supergirl dating that mean guy,you've always told me to never hit a girl or call her names,I'm 6 and I know that,he's older than me and I know more than him but she likes it and I don't understand
you actually listen to me? And no you're right follow what I taught you and not the show,who would you rather see her with?
I personally ship Kara with Kryptonite or myself over the jerk
It reminds her that what they have is little, no nothing, more than an arrangement. He is a prince and has all the power in the world. (And she has little more than her ability to stay invisible.) Jon and Sansa AU.
- - -
They make fun of how she always tries to keep clean. Trying to keep mud from splattering her hem despite sleeping on the floor at night.
They tease her for her love for songs of romance and princes. They snicker at how she stays hidden in the tunnels just to listen to another ballad sung in court.
Ok so I'm kinda crying because of a stupid reason... I failed my permit test. I know, it's ridiculous, but I was raised with the "DON'T FAIL OR YOU'VE REALLY MESSED UP" mentality and could you write something about how Peter Parker would react to a situation like that with his S/O? I need some cheering up :( But yeah I love your writing and I hope you have a great day!
(Don’t beat yourself up, you can give it another go! Driving is difficult to learn and it doesn’t come easily, it’ll come with time! I hope this helps cheer you up a bit)
You were aware of people staring at your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes as you trudged down the street towards your apartment building. A scrunched-up piece of paper was barely visible in your hand, as the words chased each other through your mind.
You had failed your driving test, after months of lessons, and you were devastated.
You looked up sharply to see your boyfriend, Peter, jogging towards you. Wiping your eyes hastily, you tried to smile convincingly at him.
“How did your test go?” he asked, and your eyes filled with fresh tears. Panicking, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest.
“I failed,” you whispered through your sobs. “My parents are gonna be furious.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter told you in a soothing tone. “You just weren’t quite ready, you can try again when you are. And your parents should understand that this is something that takes a lot of work, not everyone can pass first time.”
“I worked so hard though,” you cried, burying your face in his shoulder. “I thought I could pass.”
“You will,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll be my chauffeur in no time, don’t worry.”
You giggled, hitting his chest playfully. “In your dreams, Parker.”
He grinned at you, pulling away and linking your hand with his. “There’s that smile I love. Now let’s go back to mine, there’s a pillow fort and a Star Wars marathon with our names on them.”