favorite book when i was little

The Taggy Meme things

Tagged by the all inspiring @ff-sunset-oasis

RULES: tag 10 people you want to know better.

Relationship: Single

Favorite colors: Blues, Greens and Purples

Pets: Hufflepug

Last song I listened to: Shout out to my ex by Little Mix

First fandom: Darkest Powers

Hobbies: Binge readings fanfiction. and doing fanfic reactions (yes I’m still doing dot by @shayalonnie)

Favorite book(s): Bitten by Kelley Armstrong

Worst thing I’ve ever eaten: Um…. pork (not bacon) but just pork in general. The only time I willing ate it was when I was in Italy and it was the only thing I could eat. *sick to my stomach*

Favorite place: Disney

Tagging @hermionesmenacinglook, @shayalonnie, @ash-castle, @ashenrenee, @chiseplushie, @curious-case-of-tashie, @curiouselfqueen, @mischiefpuff, @nauticalparamour and @nellietrelawney if y’all want to play this round :D

It makes me so happy when you remember the little things that I told you on our first date. Even the things that I wouldn’t ever remember saying, you somehow manage to recover them from your memory.
That’s how I know that you were in love. When you’re in love, you remember the little things- you remember their favorite color, the way their hair looked, the way their eyes lit up when they talked about their fears and motivations. Although it’s just a distant memory, and I barely remember most of the things we even talked about, I still vividly remember the way you looked into my eyes when I walked up to you. So captivated. So intrigued. So in love. Those deep brown eyes pulled me in oh so fast, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fall back out… and I’m okay with that.
—  i’m in love with the little things //
You’ll know because he won’t mind that your texts are always a little too long and your laugh is always a little too loud and your eyes squint different shapes when you smile. You’ll know because he’ll ask you about your favorite bookstores and if you’re close with your siblings rather than whether or not you’re a virgin. You’ll know because he’ll tell you what he wants to name his kids and how much he wants to be a good dad. You’ll know because he says “I love you” using so many different words; “Are you okay?” “How’s your day going?” “I have a story that I’ve been dying to tell you.” You’ll know because you’ll want him to know every part of you, you’ll want to explore every crevice of your past with him, even the bad parts, because you want him to be able to love you for the scars on your inner thighs as well as the scars on your heart where others left cracks. You’ll know because one day you’ll wake up and realize that loving him has made you love yourself a little bit more.
—  When Did You Realize You Love Him?
Little One - Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Originally posted by namelessmasha

Words: 1891
Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: fighting?
Requested by anon.
Could you write one where the reader is the youngest of the avengers, so they treat the reader like their baby sibling. They get especially protective when Pietro pops up and starts showing interest in the reader ??
A/n: I really love this request, just, it’d be so cool. Honestly though, just protective Tony and Thor, I love it.


You were sitting on your bed reading your favorite book, minding your own business. Nothing was really going on that involved your help. You’re sure that there was probably some meeting going on in the facility, you just weren’t needed. So you had time to yourself, like you do everyday.

Sometimes you don’t get told when part of the team is going on a mission. They sometimes don’t want you to go out in fear that you’ll be hurt. Which you always reply with “Have you even seen my abilities?” And you usually get the reply of “You’ve barely even grown into them!”

One of the biggest cons of being the youngest- at merely almost twenty years old.

From time to time, being the youngest of the avengers- at nineteen- really rocked. You got what you wanted and were able to do whatever the hell you felt like. You were treated as the little sibling everyone loved and it was hard to get mad at you- even if you did cause trouble from time to time. But sometimes, it really sucked. You’d be called the ‘little one’ even though, you were turning twenty in less than a month. But no matter how old you are, you’ll always be the youngest of the group.

You were brought out of your daydreams when you heard someone outside of your room. “What is in there?” Was heard. What a weird accent.

Keep reading

The Star

Originally posted by k2so

Requested: Yes, by @klmpun

Pairings: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: Y/N is determined to surprise Newt with the Christmas tree when she gets home, but she is too short to reach the top of the tree.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 880

A/N: I somehow started to miss my little Hufflepuff angel after a few days without a fic for him, so have this short little drabble. I hope that you guys like it, it is one of my favorites that I have written recently. Feedback is the loveliest thing, so feel free to drop some in my ask box, or in the comments!

You were going to finish before Newt got home. He had been working so hard on his book that you hadn’t had time to decorate for Christmas whatsoever. Although he was trying to hide it, you could tell that he wasn’t feeling as festive as he usually was. He didn’t want to bake gingerbread cookies or look at the lights that various businesses had strung up for the festive season.

So, that night when you got home from work. You managed to wingardium leviosa a pine tree into the case, and a group of Bowtruckles helped you hang up the lights. After that, you were on your own. You made quick work of hanging up the ornaments, trying not to worry about the fact that Newt was going to be home at any moment.

The last of the ornaments were on the tree, a few presents were spread out underneath the tree. All that was left was to put the star on top, and in your rush, you somehow forgot that you were a wizard. You had run around the case for a solid five minutes trying to find a ladder. Thankfully, Newt had a spare one, and you grabbed the star and clambered to the top. Unfortunately, you managed to place the ladder a few inches too far away, and you were leaned precariously over the edge.

You thought that if you leaned just a few more inches to the side, you were going to finally get this damn star on the top of the tree, and then everything was going to be perfect when he got home. Just a few… more… inches

And then you were falling.

“Accio!” and then, you were in Newt’s strong arms, his kind eyes and his warms smile calming your racing heart.

“Hey there.” He laughed, raising his eyebrows.

“Hi,” you breathed, grateful that he had managed to catch you. he seemed to always be doing that. It may not have always been in such a literal way, but he was always picking you up when you were down.

“What were you thinking?” he laughed, setting you down and glancing around the room.

“I wanted to surprise you and decorate because you weren’t feeling Christmas-y and that isn’t something that I am okay with. So,” you took his hand and led him to the tree, “I decided to do something about it. But, I couldn’t reach the top of the tree, so I was trying to put the star on the top and of course you saw how that went.”

“Did you forget that you are a wizard?” he asked, quirking his head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

“You could have levitated the star to the top of the tree and have avoided an entire set of problems.”

“I guess that you make a good point, Mr. Scamander.” You said, pulling him closer to you by the lapels of his coat.

“And what would that be, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked, smiling down at you devilishly.

“That I do get a bit flustered when I am around you.” you laughed, pulling him in for a kiss. The two of you stayed there, beside your decorated tree, completely consumed in each other.

Sometimes Newt got so wrapped up in his work that he did not stumble home until the wee hours of the morning. You could never blame the creatures, but you did wish that their sleeping schedule would lend itself more kindly to your own. Especially when Newt slipped into bed and shoved his frozen feet against you, with little thought to the yelp that you let out upon contact.

But, in moments like this, you were just grateful to have him, even if it was only for a short while before he inevitably ventured back out into the cold.

“I got you something.” You said, voice a bit breathless after pulling away from the kiss.

“It isn’t even Christmas yet, and you know that I have a tendency to leave things to the last minute.” He groaned. Even though you knew that he was upset that he didn’t have anything for you, but you knew that he also really wanted whatever it was that you got him.

“You can relax, because this isn’t even your Christmas present. I just know that you needed a new one and soon. Besides, there was some spare wrapping paper laying around, so I thought, why not?” you explained, handing him the package that you had spent more time than usual wrapping perfectly.

He peeled away the paper to find a new leather-bound journal, with an inscription on the inside of the cover. “To my magizoologist, let us have many adventures to fill this book. -Y/N” Newt read. His eyes remained on the journal for a moment, before meeting yours. You couldn’t remember a time that his eyes were so filled with love.

He immediately gathered you up in a nearly bone-crushing hug, the feeling of love almost overpowering as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Thank you darling,” he whispered, his breath tickling your neck.

“You are so incredibly welcome,” you whispered back, hoping that you would always feel this happy, and this loved. Something in the back of your mind promised you that you would.

Don’t text me and ask me “what’s up?” Call me. Call me and tell me to make up a cute story about the stars. Ask me what I love most about nature. Tell me to summarize my favorite book because you need something good to read. Talk to me about things you used to see in the world but are different than what they were when you were little. Just call me and talk to me, please. I’m so sick of texting you what I’m doing.
—  i want someone to talk to

anonymous asked:

when my sister & i were little we used to get in trouble for staying up past our bed time reading... now whenever my dad shares that story he always says "I couldn't get mad at them! they were reading!"

ME AS A PARENT FOR SURE THOUGH

Originally posted by hairsandfashion

Some of my favorite childhood memories include staying up late with the Harry Potter books! It was so relaxing to just be safe and warm, everyone asleep, and only my small book light on!

Then, to my sister’s horror(the one who shared a room with me), my dad gave me his old IBM laptop. Reading is silent. Typing is not!

Sometimes I feel so– I don’t know– lonely. The kind of helpless feeling when everything you’re used to has been ripped away. Like there’s no more gravity, and I’m left to drift in outer space with no idea where I’m going’
Like a little lost Sputnik?’
I guess so.
—  Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami
8

Some extra notes on this comparison between The Spirit Morph Saga and His Dark Materials Series: the roles of Pantalaimon and Will seem to be sort of mixed together in Archimicarus, which is why I used references from both, yet Will also shares something with Lisa, because she seems to have lost an eye or got a patch at some point, whereas Will lost two fingers and spent a good portion of the 2nd book with a bandaged hand. Also, the 3rd book on TSMS mentions the Underworld, while in the 3rd book in HDM the Land of the Dead is crucial. I personally always found funny the part where Steven asks Connie what a familiar is, because I tried to introduce a friend to these books when I was 13 and her first question to me was “should I know what a dæmon is?”.

2

Gif source:  Jefferson

Imagine being from the Land Without Magic and Jefferson finding out that the Mad Hatter was your favorite from the Alice in Wonderland books.

——— Request for anon ———

“I was a little starstruck when I first met you, you know,” you admit, months into having known Jefferson at this point.

He raises an amused brow, “What?”

“Well, Alice in Wonderland was one of my favorite books, and the Mad Hatter was my favorite character in the book,” continuing, you can’t help the blush that shadows your face as you confess this to him. It still hadn’t worn off— the strangeness of it all. Discovering fairy tales were real and then meeting Jefferson, the Mad Hatter himself, had practically had you thinking you’d gone crazy when you’d first arrived in Storybrooke.

“I was your favorite?” Jefferson laughs, pointing out, “Are you blushing?”

“No!” you huff out the lie, but he just lets out another chuckle.

“Is the Mad Hatter still your favorite?” he presses, a twinge of worry sparking across his otherwise amused smirk.

“The one from the book? Yes,” you grin as you watch his smirk quickly turn into a frown at your cryptic reply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry! The real thing’s even better, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Probably my favorite misconception about twilight saga is this idea that E and B are like… all over each other/desperately in love right from the start. That they’re all like “ooh Edward, we are soulmate…. dont leave me…” “I’m… too dangerous.” 

When in reality they just….give each other shit…,, for like the entire first ¾ of the book???? And even after that they express love by CONSTANTLY teasing one another???? 

Like I don’t know how it came across that they’re this mushy cringe-worthy overdramatic couple when right from the start all they ever fuckin do is be little shits to each other and then have moments of actual affection. And if you ask me, that sounds like a pretty damn healthy relationship.

Getting to know people is my favorite thing. Tell me about your childhood and your parents. Tell me what makes you tick and if you have a temper. Tell me the shows you love, the music that helps you heal, and the books that changed your life. Tell me your struggles, your mistakes, your past. Tell me if you talk in your sleep, your brother’s name, and family stories - because I want to know you. I want to know who you are when people aren’t around. I want to know the little things and the big things.

Getting to know you is my favorite part.

2

“When I first saw your hand in hers,
I almost couldn’t believe it.
But then over the next few weeks,
As you posted about her and she of you,
I observed.
She is the girl who sits in the coffee shop with you,
Silently sipping at her coffee, listening.
And when she replies with a smile on her face and a light in her eyes that I don’t think I ever had,
She’ll talk with a lightness in her tone about anything at all.
She is the girl who walks with you through the downtown lights at night, when it’s a little chilly out, and she will window shop with you.
She is the girl who gets all excited and riled up over her favorite hobby or favorite book and brings it up to you and then can’t stop talking about it,
So you’ll sit there and listen to her, just to watch her excitement sweep through her bones as she talks with her hands and facial expressions.
She is the girl who will be waiting for you at home, nuzzled up peacefully in one of your shirts, dreaming about what the morning will bring.
And you will smile and lay next to her and think about the safeness and the content you have.
For she will always call you when she says she will, she will be there to check up on you and she will make you feel stable.

And I know why it is her and not me,
Because I am the opposite.
I am the girl who runs through sunset fields,
And dark woods,
Her silhouette the only thing you can see as she grabs you by the hand and runs with you.
And when you sit with your legs hanging over the water on some abandoned dock she’s taken you to,
Then she will talk.
She will talk and talk and talk about nothing and everything all at once.
Stuff that leaves you questioning,
Questions that she will answer with more questions.
But she won’t talk to you with a light in her eyes or the lightness in her tone.
She will talk to you with cool marbled darkness in her eyes and her voice like crunching autumn leaves.
But she will smile at you,
But a smile that a predator has,
One she uses to lure you in; for that’s all she knows how.
She is the girl who will take you downtown at night but not stop in front of windows to gawk at bobbles and cloth that she believes you don’t need,
She will take you in the back alleys to the ladders and you will climb up buildings and sit on rooftops and under the stars she will laugh and it will be the first time you see light in her eyes as the stars twinkle in the reflection of that dark marble.
But when you get home at night, she won’t be there.
You’ll lay down and curl up and later she will stumble in and you’ll see her, she will strip to almost nothing and she will lay away from you. And you will watch that hurricane simmer into a light patter of rain as her breathing steadies and her body relaxes.
And then when she is asleep you will touch her arm and she will roll over to you, and she will unconsciously push into you and tuck herself into the protection of your arms.
Because it’s the girl who is unbreakable, unstoppable, unbearable that is the weakest.
And you will be there to hold her and stay with her through the nights where once nightmares are relaxed with your forehead kisses and voice like velvet.

I know why you left me.

And I don’t blame you.

She is safety with her bright eyes, small laughs and dainty hands.

I am wildfire with my wanderers heart, raspy voice and hands dipped in ink.

She was your safe haven after the recklessness that was my love.”

// @acomplex
the moment when you realize you’re happy

pairing: jimin x reader
word count: 1k 

    → sometimes i just need it to be quiet to tell you i love you and sometimes i need to hear you say it first but i always love you, always, always, always
 


You landed somewhere between the gaps of silver strands when he finally lifted his gaze from his phone, something that was merely supposed to be a quick glance. Your eyes, on the other hand, were very much fixed on your already worn out copy of your favorite Charles Bukowski book – yes, you felt cliché, and with your black coffee from the vending machine, you very much looked like the type of hipster even you would wince at.

The train to Busan was bumping and every time a little splash of a brownish black landed on your book, he’d cringe and watch it soak into the paper in discomfort. You, however, just kept reading. Then Mr. Bukowski must’ve written something good, because you bit into your lip so innocently as you forced the quirk of your lip away. He watched you intently and frowned when you pulled your teeth off your lip to reveal the strip where you’d bitten your skin off. It wasn’t bleeding intensely, but a somehow delicate trail of red now coated your bottom lip and he wondered if he should tell you.

He didn’t tell you – at least not in time, because then your tongue went to soak your dry lips and caught onto it, and your finger went to trace it, and your panicked eyes finally looked up to see if anybody had noticed. Your eyes met then in a muddle of mutual panic. A thick swallow emerged on both parts and he let out a small smirk, yet you strayed and it didn’t take a second before he lost you again, slipping to a world much different than this one.

It was after the millisecond of seeing him that you weren’t able to fully submerge anymore, your bubble seemingly already too burst to conceal you from the outside world. A curiosity bloomed in your fingertips and you started subconsciously tapping the back of the book as you finished your coffee. You tried to steal shy glances of the boy in front of you, only indulging for a second (or maybe two) at a time. He looks intimidating even though you’ve kissed, and you are quite sure he is broader than he is tall. His shoulders are slouched, his hands meeting by his pelvis to hold his phone where his fingers are rather mindlessly scrolling through things he doesn’t seem to care much about. His right thigh is frantically jumping to whatever beat was vibrating through his headphones. A washed out jean jacket and black, ripped jeans cover up the quite clearly muscular body that’s hiding beneath it, and you’re almost tempted to bite into your lip even though it’s already bleeding.

Strawberries. You smell like strawberries – but not the artificial kind that you find in body lotions. You smell like very real, very red, sweet strawberries. It puzzles him a little that you can smell that way. You wonder if your breath smells and if he could possibly smell it from across the coupé.

At last, you shake your head at your own teen-like demeanor and return to your book, yet again failing to escape. You pretended, then. You felt your skin burn in the places he discreetly gave attention with his gaze and small, crooked smirks began peeking from your lips when you’d finally accepted that you both knew.

“Hey, give me attention.” he finally spoke with lifted eyebrows and you swore there was a flush of red across his cheeks.

“What?” you burst almost out of instinct, knowing that you hadn’t even processed his words. “Oh – oh. Yeah.”

You were not yet used to the way his voice got baritone when he realized he loved you, and you wiped your upper lip for any possible sweat.

Dating Jimin was sweet, but it was still very new, and for whatever reason, he didn’t find it particularly weird to take you to Busan over the prolonged weekend. Nothing was too soon for him, it seemed, when he tilted his head to find your eyes and you almost saw the three short words fall from his lips. Only almost, however, because his mouth curves slightly as he pulls back and remembers that, perhaps, you aren’t ready to spill anything of the kind.

It doesn’t take long for you to close your book and look at Jimin with an expecting gaze as you await his next move.

“Did you forget your iPod?” he asks nervously, and you smirk at the innocence that surrounds puppy love. You wonder if he always gets like this when you look at him for too long.

“Why?”

“Oh, you just talked about how you liked listening to music on the train, and you’re not listening to music, so I figured…” he continues and a shy giggle almost escapes your lips.

“It’s okay, I brought the book instead.”

“But reading makes you nauseous, you said so. You shouldn’t be reading just because you forgot your iPod, you could’ve borrowed mine.”

Jimin is innocent and he almost stutters whenever he reaches a consonant.

“No, you looked like you were enjoying the music; I didn’t want to take it away from you.” you assure him and you almost lift your hand to touch his thigh in endearment, but fire flushes through your limbs at the thought and you wiggle yourself stuck to your seat.

“We could just share the headphones. You like NCT, right? I was just listening to their new stuff.” his eyebrows raise innocently, and without intention, he moves to sit next to you, handing you one of the earbuds.

It doesn’t take any words before his thumb firmly presses the ‘play’ button, and it doesn’t take more than a song before you feel courageous enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

It doesn’t even take two songs before you zip the pocket of your jacket so that Jimin doesn’t see the iPod that’s so neatly tucked away. He smiles at you because he saw it before he even asked.

You exhale the moment you realize you’re happy, and the three words could’ve fallen so easily from that moment on.

Teddy Lupin Imagine: “Library Paradise”

Omg since the new book came out i’m obsessed w/ the next gen! Can you do a Teddy Lupin imagine where they meet in the library and he finds out how the reader is a book worm so he shows her is father’s book collection and he thinks she’s cute when she reads and yeah make up a cute end😘 love your work!
Requested by anon
Notes: [y/f/b] = your favorite book



The library. That was your paradise, your favorite place at Hogwarts. You simply adored reading. You could travel to faraway lands without stepping out of the school. Books were like little treasures to you, and the fact that you could get to the library every day and immerse yourself in thousands of different stories, of different worlds, made your life better.
You were engrossed reading [y/f/b] when a folded paper that looked like a little bird, landed on the page you were reading. Frowning, you forgot about the novel and opened the paper. It read:

“Dear [y/l/n],
I’ve noticed you come to the library every day. You really seem to cherish books, so I thought that you’d be fond of my father’s collection. Christmas break is coming. What do you say? Would you like to come home during Christmas and see it?
E.L.”


E.L. Who could that person be? Curiosity filled your veins and instantaneously, your eyes rose from the note and scanned the room in the search of possible authors. There were few people in the library, all of them working and reading, all of them save for a tall hufflepuff boy who was grinning at you. The head boy. Of course, it had to be him. He went by Teddy Lupin, but his real name was Edward Lupin, E.L. So his father had a book collection, eh? Well, how bad could it be to take a look at it? You were nodding at the boy before you knew it. His grin enlarged and his hair turned your [y/h/c] shade of color in response.


“So this is it. My father’s collection!” Teddy exclaimed enthusiastically.
“Wow!”
Your mouth was agape. Your [y/e/c] eyes were glistening. Books. Hundreds of books. All of them were ordered alphabetically and by themes on the bookshelves. It was a beautiful sight. You wanted to grab all of them and never leave this place. Your fingers made to reach a book but before you could touch the spine, your hand dropped. You nearly grasped a book without permission. Merlin! You felt the heat getting to your cheeks in embarrassment, turning them bright pink. Teddy chuckled at your expression.
“You can borrow some, you know? If I had only wanted you to see the library, I would have sent you a photograph…”
You blushed even more, but this time you grabbed that book that had caught your eye. It was old yet well conserved. Your fingers caressed the front board delicately as you took in every detail. The title was a golden fancywork that contrasted against the dark brown color of the cover material. His voice snapped you out of your daze.
“Mhm? I’m sorry. I was in my own world…” you apologized.
He smirked for a second before repeating, “I asked you if you fancied some hot cocoa…”
You smiled brightly at him and nodded quickly. Hot cocoa was your favorite drink, especially in cold days like this one.
“OK, then. You may sit on there while I bring you one of those…” he mumbled as he pointed to a little sofa of the room.
You did as told and let yourself get lost between the words of the old pages. You were so absorbed that you didn’t even notice the smell of hot cocoa that flooded thr room.
“[Y/l/n], are you in here?” asked the hufflepuff boy amused.
His voice startled you, making you slightly jump. You brought the book close to your chest as an instinct.
“Bloody hell, Lupin! Don’t scare me like that!”
He chuckled as he mumbled an apology and offered you hot cocoa. You took the glass, and unconsciously, your fingers grazed his. You felt an electrifying sensation traveling through your veins and your heart pounding wildly. Your eyes locked, and you saw that his orbs had turned as [y/e/c] as yours. You began to lean in but caught yourself before anything happened. This was Teddy Lupin. He was two years older than you, he’d never see you like anything more than a friend. He was handsome, kind and intelligent. He could get any other person. Why would he notice you?
You cleared your throat and averted his eyes. Then you sipped the hot chocolate drink and made as if you continued reading. You weren’t though. Your mind was keeping you distracted with what could have happened. A few minutes later, you let out a sigh and forced yourself to forget about Lupin and actually read the book.
“You know, [y/l/n], you look cute when you read…”
You lost your breath and your cheeks flushed.
“What?” you breathed out.
“You look cute when you read…” he repeated. “And you look even more adorable when you blush like that…”
You gulped and avoided his eyes, but he cupped your face until you couldn’t escape his glance.
“Why did you invite me to come here?” your voice merely a whisper.
“You love books.”
“I’m not the only one.”
“No… But you are the only one who’s ever caught my eye. I thought we could start off being friends… I supposed you’d like my father’s collection and so I decided to show it to you…”
Everybody knew that Teddy was an orphan. Everybody knew that his parents died the 2nd of May of 1998 during that horrible night, defending Hogwarts.
“Why do you trust me with something so personal? You don’t know me…”
It was his turn to blush as he babbled, “W-well, I may have a crush on you and I thought that you’d appreciate the gesture and that maybe you’d-“
“Thank you, Teddy,” you cut him off with a soft and sincere smile.
He stared at you agape. It was the first time that you had used his first name. He shook his head to snap out of his trance and murmured, “You’re welcome, [y/f/n].”
So he had a crush on you. You couldn’t believe your luck. Maybe this could work. Maybe you’d end up going out. You wanted to tell him that you felt the same for him, but a lump formed in your throat, so you snuggled into him instead. He froze for a second, but you paid it no mind. You focused on reading once again, drinking hot cocoa now and then. A timid arm draped over your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. You had thought that the library of Hogwarts was paradise. You had been wrong. This was paradise.

Originally posted by iglaris

I’ll never forget the first time we bonded was when you wore that shirt of my favorite band and when you took my phone and put your number in and you laughed every time I made a joke and I’ll never forget your favorite number and how you had a shelf of your favorite books and the tiny drawer where you kept all my poems and letters and how you hated when the closet door was even a little bit opened and how you thought the 2nd song of an album was always the best and I’ll never forget when we watched a movie at your house instead of going to that party and how you always touched my lips and told me how perfect they were and how you bragged about me to your friends and I’ll never forget when we walked to your secret spot that you never showed anyone else and how you brought one letter of mine to read every time you left town for the weekend and when you told me you were falling in love with me and I’ll never forget when we walked to your house in the middle of the night and talked until 4am and how you used to be scared of oblivion and that you thought the point of life was having people like me and the time you begged for my forgiveness when I was mad at you and the time you stayed up for me when I was really upset and every time we fought you always took the blame and I’ll never forget when you told me you couldn’t imagine leaving me because you liked to make sure I was happy and how you asked me to stay with you and when you said you would take a bullet for me and the time you said you thought I deserved better and one day you told me we should split up and I’ll never forget that you said you weren’t coming back and that you didn’t feel obliged to make me happy anymore and when you gave me one last kiss and I’ll never forget how painful it was when you walked away
— 

when people ask where my url is from

this is my favorite piece of writing about you because I poured my emotions out in five minutes

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I remember when I first read the children’s version of this book. I was in preschool and our teacher would let us take home a book I can’t remember why but I do remember I was able to pick mine first and immediately I picked it. Mostly because I always loved princesses and believed I was one too. I was too young to really understand it but I loved it. It was my favorite I would make my mom read it to me every night over and over again.

I wish I knew what happened to it but as I grew older I forgot what it was even called. Fast forward several years later - I was older and in a very bad place in my life that I ended up in the hospital. I tried ending my life because I just wanted to be happy. When I was in the hospital I had to have someone stay in the room with me and rotate between people. Some we’re very boring , or mean. Not all we’re that way but one stuck out the most. Her name was Janice and she was the youngest out of every one of them. She treated me like a person not just a patient. I started eating again and drawing because she brought me a sketch pad and some colored pencils bc she knew how much I liked drawing but stopped for a long time. I can’t remember what day but we went to the room where the sick kids would color and play with play dough, the books and movies and stuff we’re there too. When I looked through the bookself oddly enough I found it. I had never read the real book and I was so excited to finally read it. I found out I was being transported to a different hospital in the middle of the night and I was going to be alone there. I was scared and sad because I was never going to be able to finish it. She wasn’t supposed to, but she let me keep it and brought me this sock monkey with a bow on it’s head too. Wasn’t supposed to give me that either. She also gave me her number to contact her when I did get out, unfortunately when I was at the other hospital I lost it.

I read the entire thing when I was gone. And again when I got out and was home for good. And now after years, I found it again at a thrift shop a couple days ago.

I don’t like to believe in things, but I believe that this book finds it way to be when I need it the most and no one can ever tell me that books are just paper and ink. It’s much more than that to me and if you don’t know what the book is about I suggest you look into it because it makes me want to believe in happy endings

jfkd19800  asked:

I had difficulties reading in English until 4th or 5th grade(I went to a French immersion school). I loved stories so I grew up on audiobooks. One summer my parents grounded me for a week & it was my favorite week of the summer. I ended up reading & listening to audiobooks & drawing for the entire week. I think that's when I realized that I preferred alone time to constantly bring around friends. Since I grew up on audiobooks I still hear certain characters' voices when I read the books.

This is such a relaxing story to me! One of my favorite memories  is from when I was around 11 or 12 (so a little older than you were). I had the same realization that not only was I okay alone, but I enjoyed being alone without stress or pressure! (Of course, growing up in a house with four siblings meant that I seldom got alone time)

And that’s so cool that you get the voices still! I had to reteach myself because school readings always just seemed so monotone to me :)

Another reason Sebastian Stan has ruined me.

I was reading one of my favorite books like one of my top five favorite that I always go back to when I’m sad or just need something really good to read. It’s called Night Play by Sherrilyn Kenyon you see the hero, who’s name is Vane reminds me so much of Sebastian especially when he’s in Bucky mode. Now I can’t even read the book without thinking about Sebastian in that role. I’m ruined, not that I’m complaining mind you, its an awesome character and Seb would be amazing as him to. Just thought I’d share this little thought with my doves. Adding some prime examples of why I think Seb would make a fanatics Vane.