Today I Did

You see Michael at a bookstore and despite your best efforts to hide from him, he notices you. [requested]

[Your POV}

I scanned the bookshelves for something new to read. I grabbed a few choices and went to sit in the Starbucks area of Barnes and Noble, grabbing a coffee and a cookie along with my books. I enjoyed reading part of books to determine whether they are worth buying. It was a slow day, which I liked best because I wasn’t good around a lot of people. A boy’s voice rung through the crowd of people as he ordered a drink. His voice was all too familiar to me causing me to look up. My eyes widened and my heart stopped. I brushed my hair out of my eyes to get a better look. Oh my god. That is Michael Clifford. He began to turn around in my direction. I quickly pulled my book up to my face to hide myself. I peeked over the top of the book as he glanced around the store. He was wearing a flannel with skinny jeans and combat boots. He had taken off his ray bans upon his arrival. He was more beautiful than I would have ever expected. Once he grabbed his drink we began to look around and walked by me to where the magazines were. I fought to act natural as he walked by. Should I say something? No, I need to respect his privacy. Maybe I could just look for more books over by the magazines that couldn’t hurt. I quickly finished my cookie and grabbed my coffee and my books, walking over towards the bookshelves by the magazines. He was looking through band magazines. This was a new level of creepy for me, but I couldn’t help it. His voice helped me fall asleep and he and the rest of the boys were who made me feel less alone. I wanted to tell him that, but I sucked at getting my words out to people without sounding like an idiot, so here I watched him from behind a bookshelf. Something I’ll hate myself for later.

Keep reading

hey if you could spread the word that’d be great

Being on this website a good 4-5 years, I’ve seen my fair share of anon hate, anon love, and long lasting friendships based off of mutual followers. And because of that, I’ve decided to make a blog dedicated to anonymous (or not) confessions of your adoration/love of a blog or blogger just to spread the love and make those feeling a bit down and out feel better. 

All you have to do is send an ask to speaknicewords (make sure you mention the url of the person you want to see it!!) and I will post it and mention/tag the person in it. If you happen to mention a certain fandom I will tag that too as well.

My goal with this blog is to make people happy and hopefully have their day made by having someone write them a sweet message. I know there are smaller blogs like these dedicated to particular fandoms, but I’m hoping if the blog gets big enough, we can just bring tumblr itself together as a nicer community because as we all know it can get pretty messy at times. 

So send in your messages to speaknicewords and I’ll post them as soon as possible!! 

Thank you, Jenna x 


Scorpion Hiatus Meme:   [ 5 / 6 ]  Favourite episode
   -   1x12: Dominoes.
        Do the math all you want, but there’s a boy breathing underwater, still alive.
            That’s a miracle in my book.


{ Okay, so now I got another 100 followers reaching an insane number. Like how did this even happend? I was on a hiatus, explained it and thought that I might get unfollowed for being considered maybe weak, maybe a not worth role player, maybe a drama queen, but you guys prooved me wrong. I wanna thank you to ALL of you, those with who I had the chance to interact with and those who followed me.♥

I swear I made it so far thanks to all of you! You guys are like my second family. I wanna thank those who actually worried about me, like waking up one day with a lot of concerning messages among with cheerings and so, made me stay, and continue being my character, I had serious issues with my way of portraiting her, it was just- ugh. But seeing that you all actually love the way I do it, cheered me. Also thanks for those who didn’t unfollowed me, because recently people were doing so just because of the ships and blah blah. You guys are wonderful, I have strong bonds with some of you and that cheers me to go on. ♥ I thought that due to my hiatus I might lose people, but all of us need a break sometimes. Also, I wanna thank those who helped me with my headers, theme, url /recently changed./ I’m sorry for being such a cheesy bothering potato. ; w ;

Also! Hello to my new followers! I am a turtle Sakura, hidden on her shell waiting to try to approach you all! ♥

                                                B E A U T I F U L    P E O P L E

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One and then the other

Adam Parrish does not love.

To love, means to trust, and Adam hasn’t trusted in a long, long time.

Instead he is well practiced smiles that slide slick and oily across his face, nerves that skitter and jump beneath his skin when Gansey lays a harmless hand on his shoulder; he is eyes wide open in the middle of the night on Blue’s sofa, a back never to a crowd, knowing that he is safe with Ronan beside him on the bed but shaking anyway, seeing six different ways out of a room the moment he walks in one.

He is panic behind grace, disdain behind kindness. He is two faced and silver-tongued and a liar.

And he is scared.  

Adam is eighteen when he realizes there’s something inside of him that is missing. That little spark of belief; that people can be good and problems can resolve themselves and that he doesn’t need to fight for everything he wants, the knowledge that some things are freely given.

It’s the earnest pleading in Gansey’s eyes, Blue’s anger at his own self-hatred, Ronan’s completely selfless worship and adoration.

It’s those moments where for a second he forgets and his smiles come freer, his shoulders go looser; Ronan’s hands rubbing up and down his back feel safer.


It is also tin walls shaking from the rise and fall of voice, beer bottles smashing, the smell of alcohol sticking to his clothes as he washes them so desperately in the sink, tears in his eyes and blood on his face. It is being taught to ride a bicycle when he is six by the same man who breaks his arm when he is eight; it is long walks in the park with his mother and a laugh like church-bells turning to icy silences the week after when they’re both bruised and miserable.

It’s growing up in a war zone where everything Adam did was a tactical decision thought out six or seven steps in advance. It’s knowing that it’s wrong, that he can’t live like this, but doing it anyway.

It’s being seventeen and finding a gun in your father’s bedside table and wondering how long you have left before he uses it.

The others though, they don’t understand. That just because Adam is out from beneath that roof does not mean he is safe; that just because he came out healthy does not mean he came out whole.

He thinks about telling them sometimes, when Gansey pushes too far or Blue too soon; in the sleepy silences with Ronan when they’re curled close and for a moment Adam almost makes the mistake of thinking it could be alright to trust this beautiful boy beneath the church roof where surely he must be safe.

But he doesn’t; he never can.

The words weigh themselves down with a dozen what if’s and Adam is helpless to fight them because he comes from a place where a what if can keep you alive just another night.

One day, he tells himself, one day I’ll trust them enough to say it.

And in the meantime Adam Parrish does not love.