goddamn this part made me cry

Went and saw Beauty and the Beast, and I just had to share my experience because it was so pure?

So, like, I get into the theater, find myself a nice spot smack dab midscreen, which is WAY EASIER without thirty people traipsing in behind you in a group, lemme tell you, and I’m just sitting there, by my lonesome, scrolling tumblr and watching whatever weird stuff they’ve got on screen, and a family comes to sit in my row, which was the only empty one not right in front of the screen. Sat down what I thought was a seat away from me until I saw a little girl in an adorable ass red dress climbing over mom and dad to sit next to me. 

Totally fine. I was just off of center and they got to sit right in the middle of the screen, and when she finally gets settled this little girl looks up at me, with a soda half her size in one hand, and somehow both popcorn and candy in her tiny little lap, and she stage whispers to her mom:

“She’s by herself!”

Mom looks embarrassed, but I smile and wave off the apology. 

I go back to my phone, only to realize someone is tugging at my sleeve. Little girl looks up at me, all wide eyes and curiosity, and holds out a napkin filled with popcorn and chocolate. Like, I remember being a kid, and I remember how important candy and popcorn at the theater are, and I think she thought she was saving my life by offering this sustenance.

I almost fucking cried guys, kids are the best.

So I take it and thank her and let her talk my ear off for a few minutes until she needs a drink because she has been talking SO MUCH her mouth is dry. This kid is going places, guys, I’m telling you right now, because she picked up that cup the size of her torso like a champ and angled the straw just right and continued to try to talk to me around her gulps.

While this is happening, on the other side of me another mom and daughter sat down, and, turns out, the girls know each other. I’m guessing, based on the gumption of Red Dress, that they probably met in the lobby before they went into the theater. 

Girl number 2, I’ll call her Princess Dress, because it was a fantastic dress and when I told her so she proceeded to point to every princess along the neck and name them and give me their Stats, proceeds to have a conversation across me with Red Dress.

Both sets of parents were looking like they wanted to bury their heads in their hands, but I was having a blast.

Anyway, eventually lights go down, we get into the movie, and for the most part Red and Princess were content, although every so often Red made sure to pass me a handful of sticky half-melted chocolate. 

Watching a live action version of a movie that I watched for the first time when I was their age was a fuckin’ trip, man. Like. I got super emotional over things I didn’t expect to, and during the wolf scenes I was actually mildly distressed, because Princess was gripping the hand rest so hard on my right I thought she was gonna break it. Any scene I laughed or snorted at got a peal of laughter from my two new best friends, so hopefully no one has to go home and explain why I nearly snorted out my drink during “Be Our Guest” when they went for a visual gag for “After all miss, this is France!”.

During the ballroom scene, Red turned to her mom and whispered “The Beast is handsome!” and it took so much for me not to lean over and whisper back “Girl same.”

But my favorite, MY VERY FAVORITE part of this whole experience was when Gaston shot the Beast - FOR THE THIRD TIME HOLY HELL I KNEW IT WAS DARK BUT GODDAMN THIS IS A KIDS MOVIE ISN’T IT - Red patted my arm because yeah, okay, I was maybe crying a little, look, I know what happens but the movie made me feel things okay. Anyway, she like, pushes herself up in her seat and leans in close and she goes “It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

The point is, children are so pure, and everyone should always watch movies with strangers.

I Won’t Hurt You: Void Stiles

This is for the anon who requested Void Stiles, Enjoy! Xxxx

Crying in the shower had become my new thing. Everything that had happened had all become too much. Like something was building up in my chest making it hard to breathe. But something about the warm water, the smell of my apple shampoo, it made me feel calmer.

So that’s where I was now. I’d spent a good fifteen minutes in the shower, sitting on the floor, crying about my brother. What had happened to him? How could I have let this happened to him?

I should’ve seen it coming. With every nightmare I’d coax Stiles out of. Every random riddle he’d be yelling that I would slowly explain to him. The fact that he was getting thinner and paler and I never said a goddamn word.

Slowly I shut off the water, wrapping a warm towel around me.

This was my least favourite part. With every rub I was slowly losing my blanket of warmth and comfort.

Sighing I pull on a pair of sweatpants and Stiles lacrosse jersey. Sad I know.

I towel dry most of my hair, lazily throwing the perfectly fine towels into the hamper as I couldn’t be bothered folding them.

I resumed my usual spot on my bed, picking up my phone before I hear a key in the lock on the front door. I frowned and got up going to the window. Dad wasn’t supposed to be home for hours.

His car wasn’t outside. So who the hell was that walking through my kitchen?!

I scanned my room quickly before picking up Stiles’ baseball bat that was propped against my bed.

I slowed my breathing, slowly creeping to behind the door. I could now hear them ascending the stairs, their footsteps loud and meaningful.

My heart was racing but I still controlled my breathing. But I’m guessing whoever that was is most likely not human and can already hear my heartbeat. But they had a key, I told myself, my hands shaking slightly,

They were right outside my door now, I could see their shadow under the door.

Slowly the door handle was pulled down and my door was pushed open. I swung around from my hiding place, bat aimed high and forceful.

A cold white hand gripped the metal bat, stopping it in the air just above his head. It was Stiles.

Except it wasn’t.

This was not my brother. This was not the boy I knew and loved.

His skin was deathly white, with black circles around his dark soulless eyes. His lips were chapped and I nearly cried just looking at him.

I opened my mouth to scream, to shout, too at least say something!

“Speechless, sweetheart?” He smirked. Even his voice was cold. Like a slap in the face. And sweetheart?

Slowly he began lowering the bat to my side. I didn’t stop him.

“Let’s go sweetheart. Time to leave.” He spoke to me like I was a child. I backed away from him, my feet catching on the carpet. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“Now Y/N,” He pouted slightly, and I stared into his eyes. His dark black eyes that were so different from Stiles’ golden amber one.

“Y/N, don’t be difficult.” I shook my head, still not uttering a word.

He sighed, looking at something on the wall. He leaned over to it and pulled a picture off of me and him… no! Of me and Stiles on our first day of freshman year.

“So Y/N,” He said, looking up at me like I was a fascinating piece of art that he was trying to understand.

“What will it be? Will you come with me?” He held up the photo facing the picture side at me, showing me the two smiling faces. “Or them?” And he nodded to the dark Omni that had evaporated in behind me, their glowing green dots of eyes staring at me.

I stumbled backwards away from them, straight into Void Stiles’ arms. “Good choice.” He remarked as his hands went over my eyes and everything was dark.

I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening to me. I was thinking, I was breathing and I could definitely feel the cold heavy arms wrapped around my torso. But I couldn’t speak or move. And I hated it.

The feeling passed and I let out a gasp, feeling my lungs burn like they’d been starved of air.

He took his hands away from my eyes like he was revealing some big surprise or something.

I was in a classroom at the school. In fact I’m sure this was my biology class.

There was a chart on the chalkboard in neat immaculate curly handwriting which was definitely not my brothers.

One half said deaths and the other said deaths to come. Both were blank.

Void Stiles had walked away from me, instead he was standing in front of the board like he was about to give a speech. I’m sure he was.

“So Y/N,” He started. His voice was so calm and eerie. Like he wasn’t planning on killing everyone.

“I want you to come up here and fill in the answers.” He said brandishing a piece of chalk at me.

“But I’m not a banshee.” I whispered. It was the first thing I’d said to him.

He looked at me and smirked. A smile would have looked all too wrong on his face.

“Oh I know what you are, Y/N. But what I want you to do is just too simply write an estimate on what you think I might do.” He explained as he threw the chalk at me. I caught it easily and slowly with little thought I shuffled to the board.

I thought back to all the reports I had read, all the news I’d been told and put and estimated guess of 150 people in the death column.

Then I thought of my friends. I counted them, Scott, Lydia, Derek, Ethan, Aiden, Kira Isaac, Alison, me… and Stiles.

I wrote a shaky 10 on the board, each of my breaths getting caught in my throat.

Void Stiles raised his eyebrows interested by my answers. “Curious.” He said.

“What do you want from me? A long and detailed plan on how I you’re going to kill my friends? How I think you’re going to kill everyone I love. Or just how you’re going to kill everyone in general?” I snapped now. Whatever the hell he wanted from me I didn’t care.

“I’ve already gotten what I want from you.” He says, amused. “You see, I know what you do to the pack and now, thanks to you of course, Scott’s on his way here right now.”

A stone cold weight dropped in the pit of my stomach. “No.” I whispered.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Void Stiles says, because with one swift motion he slaps me across the face and I fall to the ground, out cold.

I woke back up again because of all the screaming. My head shot up from next to the desk, looking for the source of the shouts.


He was leant against a desk, Void Stiles directly in front of him.

I slowly pulled myself to my feet. No one noticed.

I moved barely a footstep to the left and what I saw nearly made me scream. Scott had a sword through his stomach. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

Void Stiles had grasped the hilt of the sword and was slowly and agonisingly twisting it, dark veins of pain prominent against his ivory white skin.

“Stop it!” I screamed, the force of my voice billowed Void Stiles backwards and I ran in front of Scott.

“Y/N?” Scott moaned, and I saw the pain in his eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” It very clearly was not but I had no time to think of anything else as Void Stiles got back up.

“Nice little trick.” He told me, but I was too caught up on how different he was from earlier. Earlier was like the calm before the storm. Earlier Void Stiles was just like an off version of my brother but now I didn’t even recognize him.

He looked chaotic.

“Now Y/N,” He spoke to me in that same patronising tone as earlier, like I was a disruptive child. “That wasn’t very nice.”

I felt my fangs grow, jutting over my lip and my eyes burned.

“Ooh, purple’s a good colour on you.” His voice was full of malice, but the sheer calmness of it was enough to terrify me.

I blinked at his words. I never knew they turned purple.

He brought his hand up to my face and immediately I snarled dangerously at him, my hands clasping at Scott’s arm behind me. He groaned and the sound screamed in my ears.

“Its funny sweetheart, my main goal was always Scott but as times went on I think I’ve changed my mind.” He looked sideways at me.

“I think I’ll kill you first.”

My body reacted differently to what I told it to. I wanted to fight. To run. To do something. Instead, I simply flatten myself further against Scott, trying to protect him.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the worse.

Nothing happened.

When I opened my eyes again Void Stiles’ hand was aimed right at my heart. But I felt nothing.

When I looked at him now he looked severely distressed. “What’s happening?” He shouted at me but I stayed frozen.

Out of frustration he threw a punch at me but as if there was a wall between us his fist froze.

“Why can’t I touch you?!” He roared, as his hands flew to his ears, covering them as if we were all shouting and we were too loud.

He fell to his knees, shouting. I turned round to check on Scott, and he nodded slightly at me, wincing as well.

I carefully crouched down next to him. When he looked at me this time his eyes were big and golden. Stiles’ eyes.

“Y/N?” He gulps. I nod and immediately pull him into a hug. It only lasts for around 5 seconds before Stiles pulled away.

“I can’t keep fighting him. He’s getting too strong.” He told me, his eyes swimming in tears. “But I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Then this should help with the battle.” Deaton suddenly appeared out of the shadows, brandishing a long needle filled with curious looking yellow fluid.

Both me and Stiles jump, my hand instinctively clutching Stiles shoulder

Slowly Stiles nodded, staring between me and the needle.

“Stiles,” I said hurriedly, looking my brother dead in the eyes. “Keep fighting him, Batman, because we won’t give up. Remember that whatever happens, you’re still my brother.” I quickly peck his cheek just as Deaton pushes the plunger down into Stiles’ neck.

As soon as Deaton was done Scott howled in pain, coughing up blood down his t-shirt.

I looked at the sword in his stomach. It had gone all the way through. I looked at Deaton in horror but he remained calm.

“Y/N, hold him still.” He instructed and immediately I take Scott’s hand and he locks eyes with me, his glowing their alpha red and mines burning purple.

As soon as Deaton had even grasped the hilt of the sword Scott was squeezing my fingers. I got an idea and imagined pushing the happiness I had right now into Scott to override the pain.

I thought about Stiles words, “I couldn’t let him hurt you.” And how hard he was fighting and that filled me with determination and I watched in wonder as Scott looked up at me, composed.

He hadn’t even realised the sword was out until I slipped my arm around him, steadying him. “Let’s get out of here.” I told him.

anonymous asked:

Neo-liberalism is fascism. It's a fascism of a new kind, that's all. A "soft" one in which our rights are slowly but surely stripped away instead of ripped off brutally. The eventual effect is the same. Fun fact: 10 French billionaires control 90% of the French press. Guess who they supported. My point is, i won't vote for any kind of fascism and i'm sorry that ruffles your feathers. The future will tell who of us was right, i guess. Cheers.


soft fascism.



neo-liberalism is soft fascism.

never mind that for all my deep hatred of thatcher and reagan I would not consider them fascists (soft or not) and that maybe berlusconi could be the one person that might fall under that definition but he actually did bring former fascist party members into the parliament when before no one voted for them which is why I, uh, call him fascist, here anon, have a reminder:


can you fucking read?

it’s two bad things but they’re nowhere near the same level.


congrats, don’t go vote, and if lepen wins thanks to you then please don’t go crying to other people when she actually shows her true colors and fucks y’all over. I’m done.

also, idk if you read the previous post I just made, but what part of ‘if you think that lepen is the same as WHOEVER ELSE IS NOT A FASCIST I don’t want to hear it’ did you miss? 


no pretending; m; raulson

my friend who wishes to remain anonymous wrote this raulson rpf in response to my bananun fic. enjoy. xoxo.

There was a beep coming from Sarah’s iphone. Another message? I swear I put it on silent, she thought, annoyed at herself for failing to properly cut herself off from the world. It was already 4pm, she was exhausted, she just wanted to drink white wine and watch Modern Family. As she dutifully checked her Facebook, she decided to catch up on her Twitterers, as she was feeling bad about not responding to all the little people who sent her tweets. The wine helped her deal with all the bizarro stuff, occasionally she would get some freaky tweets. She remained loyal to her fans though, despite the idiots.

What’s this? Someone sent her a link, it was a fanfic… sigh, she couldn’t bring herself to read anything from the show. It was just too weird. The writing was usually horrible to boot. She had seen a few after Asylum had ended, but it was never pleasant. She was about to close the tab, when she saw the pairing – Lana/Mary Eunice? That’s new, no one ever talked about those two. How delightfully disturbing.

From the end of the hall came a shuffling sound: who on earth was entering her apartment?

“Sarah! Get out of bed ! Or off the couch or the floor or wherever you are. We’re going dancing tonight.” Lily.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Sarah was leaning over the side of her couch, trying to get a look at her beautiful friend and co-star.

“Are you for real? You gave me a key ages ago, you goon.” Oh right, she probably had. It was hard to keep track. Of course Lily would get one though, but it was unusual. She always rings first. Lily walked through the kitchen, having dropped her bags onto the counter.

“You didn’t ring this time,” Sarah turned away, going back to her phone.

Lily ignored her, “We’re leaving New Orleans in less than a week, and I am not letting you stay inside this weekend. You’re turning into a couch potato.” A funky plastic hat hit Sarah on the side of the head. Lily was serious. Staring into the phone, pretending to ignore Lily’s selfish concerns, the truth being more about Lily needing company than Sarah’s plunge into a sedentary lifestyle, Sarah mumbled something about being tired.

“I’ll make you a cup of coffee then, but you have to come with me, ok?” The younger woman resorted to pleading, as was their ritual. Sarah was always stubborn at first, but a couple of pouts from Lily and she was up and out the door. Lily was proud of herself, Sarah had never regretted an outing with her since they had first started being friends almost seven years ago.

After turning on the coffee maker, she strode over to the couch, leaning down next to Sarah face, all ready to manipulate her into going. Sarah was reading something on her phone and as soon as she felt Lily’s hair hit her shoulder she jerked away. “Whatcha readin’?” A wicked smile across her face, a wave of curiousity hit her, temporarily distracting her from her original purpose.

Sarah guffawed, “You don’t wanna know,” quickly glancing back at the screen. There was a familiar colour in her cheeks that Lily suspected might not be due the half a glass of white wine on the coffee table.

An agile being, Lily hopped over the couch and reached for the phone. In a flash she had stolen Sarah’s device, and backed away smiling. Sarah tripped over the end of the couch, “Give that back, Lily. I need my phone, this isn’t funny.”

But in the second that it took Sarah to find her way around the end of the couch, she wasn’t exactly steady at the moment, Lily had already walked backwards down the hallway. Sarah was now extremely lightheaded. “You hand that over right now. I am so serious.”

Lily’s mouth was gaping, “Oh. My. God.” She was opening the door to the bathroom, without taking her eyes off of the screen, she closed the door behind her, locking it.

Fuck, Sarah thought. This was not cute, that made up story was possibly one of the most sadistic things she had ever read, and she was at such a good part. How dare Lily interrupt this for her. She downed the rest of her wine, and walked towards the bathroom door. Lily was crying with laughter, it was getting annoying.

“I swear to god, Lily. I will never go dancing with you again, if you don’t open this door and give me back my goddamn phone.” Sarah was leaning, her hands high up on either side of the door, she would kick it down if she had to. Lily was mumbling stuff that she couldn’t hear, but for the most part was just laughing. Sarah couldn’t help but smile as she momentarily forgot what was happening. What would her friend say? Who knows how much worse the story got? “WELL AT LEAST TELL ME WHATS HAPPENING, WILL YOU?” Man was she drunk, and Lily had stopped laughing. But she obliged Sarah’s last request.

“Mary Eunice is licking Lana’s butt.” So technically the story got better.

“What? Can you please just open the fucking door!!”

As she said this, Lily opened the door and pulled Sarah in by the belt of her housecoat, looking into her eyes and shaking her head,“I don’t know if I can go dancing anymore. This is so fucked up.” Lily returned a wide-eyed glance at the screen and continued reading, mouth open. “It’s good though.” Sarah was still pissed and she reached out to grab the device, but Lily just shoved her against the wall with one arm. “I’m not finished yet.”

Lily thought she could make her go out dancing when all she wanted to do was watch tv, then she steals her phone and reads her perverse fanfic, pulls her in here, pushes her up against the wall, who the hell does she think she is? Sarah was furious, and she lunged at her so-called friend. “GIVE ME MY FUCKING PHONE!” She managed to catch Lily off guard, pinning her up against the far wall, but something was happening. They both looked around and saw the phone flying towards the toilet. There was a definite splash as it fell into the water bowl. “No, no, no, no… ughhh,” Sarah ran towards it. “RICE, I NEED RICE! FIND SOME RICE.” Lily ran towards the kitchen, a look of horror on her face.

Sarah wrapped her precious iphone in a hand towel and carried it towards the kitchen. Lily was already pouring the basmati into a large glass bowl, her brows conveying intense shame. After submerging all of Sarah most important contacts, photos, and that godforsaken piece of trash she was reading, Sarah started to cry. Lily poured a couple glasses of wine, and was about to apologize when Sarah punched her in the chest. “Dammit it Lily, why did you do that?”

“I’m so sorry, you know how I get. I’m so dumb, I’m so sorry. I will buy you another phone. The rice should work though, right?”This was not the night Lily had hoped for the two of them.

“Who the hell knows, I’ve never had my phone thrown into the toilet before! You owe me something fierce let me tell you,” Sarah took a hefty sip from her glass, “The first thing you are going to do, is forget about going dancing, and the second will be telling me that friggin story you just couldn’t put down.”

Sarah was walking away, but Lily took her hand gently, “Why don’t I just show you?”

They had had moments many times where the thought of pursuing sexual intimacies would appear to both of them, but this was different. “What does that mean?” Sarah wasn’t sure, beyond a potential butt-licking what was entirely in store if she agreed.

Lily had her face scrunched up, clearly considering her words carefully. “Well, it means whatever you want it to mean, but I meant I could be Mary Eunice and you would be Lana. I really miss playing that character, so this could be really fun. What do you think?” Sarah knew she wanted to, but she didn’t want to agree too heartily. After all she was still not impressed with Lily’s childish behaviour earlier. 

“Yes. Okay.” Shit.

Lily smiled, “So Mary Eunice is aware that Lana has an interest in s&m basically, and decides to give it to her in her office. You’re already in your housecoat so that works, but I need some kind of veil.” They smiled, and Lily kissed her friend softly. “I’m really sorry, Sarah. I was just so excited, I haven’t seen you in like two weeks, and I missed you.” Sarah was blushing, how could she worry about a stupid phone when she was finally going to get laid. She used to wonder all the time if they would ever actually do it, and she used to get really drunk around Lily for that reason.

“It’s okay, Lily. I’m not mad. I shouldn’t have pinned you against the wall like that. Here,” she grabbed Lily by the waist, and whispered, “Let’s go find you a veil.”

They kissed again, but Lily pulled away, “I kind of liked it when you did that, I think that’s why I let go of the phone.”

Sarah laughed, “Oh really? Well in that case,“ she pushed Lily up against the counter and their lips met again, desperate for each other, their breaths masked with the scent of shiraz. Lily’s hands travelled up to Sarah’s neck, and she slipped her finger into Sarah’s glossy yellow hair.

Taking a moment to just look at each other, Lily spoke, a little breathless, “I like that. Can we just?” Sarah was trailing her delicate fingers along the sides of Lily’s muscular thighs.

“Yeah,” she imagined Lily was thinking the same thing. They could roleplay another time, right now they wanted each other, no pretending.

Keep reading

I legitimately have no idea what this is. ‘F’ is for post-5x19 ‘Ficlet’, I guess.


He wasn’t sure how it happened.

They were in the hallway.

Another day, another face-off.

Words were involved. Words with jagged edges, words that sliced.

Some were amused—‘actually expect me to be flattered you decided to give a shit about me again?’—some gritted—‘I told you I never stopped’—some scoffed—‘on the plus side for you, if I die tell Elena I say hi’—some clenched—‘how can you even fucking say that to me?’—some drawled—‘riiight, I forgot, ‘cause you went into that coffin for me’—some hissed—‘I already told you I did’—some snapped—‘and I already told you you went in for you’—some building into an unexpected growl—‘like the reason you do pretty much everything—for fucking you’—curling into a snarl—‘and for some crazy, absurd, maybe-I-should-be-in-a-psych ward reason, I thought that sticking around, being here for me, having me around was something that you were doing for you’—straining at the seams—‘because sticking around you was something that I was doing for me!’— words that grew shrill—‘and then I find out that being around me wasn’t something you were doing for you, it was you biding your time in agony, you with nothing better to do’— words that cracked with emotion in a way they hadn’t before—‘it was you caring so fucking little that when you decided to throw in the towel, you couldn’t even bring yourself to keep up the charade of friendship enough to say goodbye‘—words that were interjected in a thick-throated, uneven surge—‘none of that is true’—that flared like a lit fuse—‘YOU SAW ME, DAMON’—‘I THOUGHT I WAS PROTECTING YOU’—that choked in her throat—‘YOU SAW MY FACE, YOU SAW ME CRYING, YOU HEARD ME TELL YOU THAT YOU WERE HURTING ME AND I’M SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE YOU DID THIS ALL SO I WOULDN’T GET HURT?”—words that shook with emotion—‘I DID GET HURT. FROM YOU. YOU HURT ME. I LET YOU IN AND I TRUSTED YOU AND I LET YOU BECOME PART OF MY GODDAMN WORLD AND YOU MADE ME BELIEVE I WAS PART OF YOURS AND WHY DID YOU LIE’—words woven between furious shoves—‘WHY DID YOU LIE, WHY DID YOU PRETEND, WHY DID YOU CALL ME YOUR BEST FRIEND’—words that felt like bombs going off, that had her shattered face right up in his—‘WHY’D YOU ACT LIKE YOU GAVE A SHIT, WHAT WAS THE POINT, WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT, WHY DID YO—’

And then mouths were involved.

His on hers, sudden, bewildering, hot. It happened in a surge of desperation, an all-consuming, skin-searing need to disprove the idea that he didn’t care once and for all, to kill it immediately, violently, unequivocally, to rip it out of her head as vehemently as possible. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until he’d done it.

And now he was kissing Bonnie Bennett.

A flutter of seconds passed.

And now he was kissing the goddamn hell out of Bonnie Bennett.

Another beat, and her hair was threaded into his fist, his body flushed against hers with a blistering yearning that his mouth echoed, hungry, terrified, desperate to avoid the moment when this all came crashing down, when this switched to past tense, became analyzable, immutable, a giant, glaring fulcrum in their history.

He needed a beat to figure this out.

He also couldn’t think.

She tasted like tears and bourbon, she smelled like honey, she felt like home, his head was reeling, what was he doing, what the fuck was he doing, what the fucking fuck was he doing and why hadn’t he done it soone

And then hands were involved.

Just her hand, really.

His lungs felt the slap more than his cheek.

Her body was trembling. Her stare was feral, the pupils blown. She looked like a raw, twitching live-wire, scattered and unstable and lethal—one wrong move and she’d blow the building. He merely stared at her, his heart a hard, rigid rock hammering against his chest like a wrecking ball.

“Stay. The fuck. Away from me.”

It was a searing hiss. Her voice shook. He could practically see the electrical currents coasting over her skin, sparking and zig-zagging in furious patterns, and he knew nothing he could say or do would fix this. Not right now. Not in dim light of this hallway. Not with the taste of her still flooding his tongue.

Another blink and she was gone, her retreating steps the ticks of a newly set time bomb, one he hadn’t meant to introduce, one he hadn’t anticipated. His shoulders were rigid. His fists were tight, the nails biting into his palm. He needed to figure this out.

He needed to sort this.

Sort all of it.

Because Jesus Christ, right now, the only black-boxed, chained away, never-to-see-the-light-of-day explanation for the burning lead in his veins was throwing him out of his goddamn skull.

He wasn’t sure how it happened.

He wasn’t sure that it’d happened.

He wasn’t sure about pretty much anything about it.

But there was chance he’d fallen in love with Bonnie Bennett.


So I was rereading COB last weekend and this part when Clary finds Jace sitting by the piano playing music reminded me of Tessa bursting into Jem’s room while he was playing his violin
And both Jace and Jem thought it was their parabatai coming in their rooms but no sorry guys its just your future love opening the door lol

Someone asked me about you once
And I didn’t possibly know how to
String together the words to sum you up.
I’d like to think that I know you
From your hopes and dreams to the fears
That run in your head late at night.
I know your past and present
And am more than aware of the moments
That set you back from where you were.
I’m not under any blind, starry-eyed illusion
That you’re perfect in any way.
You are all at once an open book
And a mystery to me, and you still
Find a way to surprise me daily.
I know the stubborn way you set your jaw
And string together eloquent arguments
When you know you’re right
Alongside the way your voice drops
And drips with sincerity
When you know you were wrong.
I’ve seen the unwavering generosity
You extend towards the ones you love
And the way some nights the alcohol courses in your veins
Until you’re unknowingly picking fights you can’t win.
You’ve made me roll my eyes and bite back words
But also laugh when I thought I’d cry
And shown me what it means to love someone.
You’re a lot of things and moments, for better or worse,
And I’d like to think that I know (most) all of them.
Good or bad, it’s you, and somehow,
I still love every part
—  It’s About You // -STG (inksplatteredpages)