have a shitty edit thing i made to keep my mind away from other things

Special Fic Rec III by viplourry

You Really Got Me Now by allwaswell16 (6K)

Louis is the best older brother anyone could ask for. He knows this because he’s agreed to help chaperone his younger sister’s school trip to Rome. As it turns out, Italy is full of surprises. Fizzy’s Italian teacher is surprisingly hot, Rome is surprisingly interesting, and Louis is surprisingly falling in love with more than just the city.

73 Questions by literlarry_real (6K)

Louis is more nervous than usual about filming the upcoming episode of Vogue’s 73 questions. Musician and soon to be actor Harry Styles may have something to do with that.

Will Love Be There by lululawrence (13K)

Au where Louis attends a Steve Aoki concert and accidentally ends up with a husband.

You’ll Hear Me Calling for You by pinky_heaven19 (42K)

The one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn’t.

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Wrong Place Wrong Time- The Aftermath (3)

Do not reuse, edit or copy and of my work(s). ©
Part 3 of an ongoing sequel, enjoy :)
A fanfic for a more Mature audience due to violence and language. Read at your own risk :)

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭 ,. (☠️- Harm towards characters, Strong language and Adult themes.)

Summary: The Sequel to Wrong Place Wrong Time: Life after the death of Red.
Main Characters include: Reader and EXO.

Click for WPWT(1)  Part 1 Part 2  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22-Finale

Word Count: 2,460 (-ish)

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You scowled at Chanyeol, shoving another fist full of popcorn into your mouth. It was only you and he at home, Minseok was out doing God knows what probably with the other boys and you still weren’t happy about it. It’s not that you wanted him to stay away from them because you hated them. It’s not that you wanted to pretend they didn’t exist because that wasn’t the case either, you had grown fond of them over the two months you’d spent with them so in fact it was quite the opposite. But you were so desperate for your life to move on, you never wanted to walk back into that direction and Minseok didn’t want that either, at least that’s what you had thought but it turned out you were wrong.

“Listen Y/N it wasn’t my place to say, it was Minseok’s duty. I don’t mean anything on the grand scheme of things nowadays I’m only a friend, he’s your husband so I really don’t see how any of this is my fault.” Chanyeol pouted back, slapping your hand away from the bowl of popcorn and pulling it into his lap.

You frowned at him. “I’ve already told you Chanyeol, you’re not just a friend you’re my best friend and that will never change, you mean as much to me now as you always have so don’t act like you’re an unimportant individual in the ‘grand scheme of things’.” You threw your fingers in the air making quotation marks and mocked his voice. However he was right this wasn’t his fault it wasn’t his job to inform you about anything anymore it was Minseok’s job now. You sighed standing up from your seat and stretched your hands up in the air.

“Anyway I didn’t come round to discuss your marital problems Y/N, I came to ask you a favour. Well ask a favour for Kyungsoo.”

“Why what’s up with him, he’s okay isn’t he?” Your heart thumped a little bit, your mind flashed back to the state of him lying in his own blood on the kitchen floor, with his eyes rolling into the back of his head, it made you feel sick it was something you would never be able to erase no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah he’s fine mostly, I mean he’s coping –ish. Basically he’s living with Sehun, Yixing and Jongdae at Minseok’s old house, but it’s got stairs right? So he can’t really get about much there’s only so much he can do for himself and you know how bad Kyungsoo can get when he allows himself to feel shitty, he’s getting back to that state of blocking himself away and it’s not doing him any good. Since you’re living in this beautiful bungalow…” Chanyeol smiled cheekily at you. You rolled your eyes in response, it’s not that you didn’t want to help Kyungsoo out, but you were really finding it hard to live with your own husband right now, you didn’t need the added stress.

“Chanyeol I don’t think –”

“Oh come on Y/N, it doesn’t have to be for long, just until he can get his spirits back up a little, please. It breaks my heart to see Kyungsoo paralysed and the fact that he can’t deal with it emotionally just makes it worse, he’s still trying so hard to pretend he’s okay but he still hasn’t come to terms with it properly honestly he’s still in denial.” He sulked, dragging you down to the sofa by your arm.

“Fine just for a while then, I’ve got issues to deal with. Or should I say an issue. Minseok. Maybe marrying him was a mistake Chan?” You said sadly looking down at the ring on your finger.

“Woah, come on Y/N don’t say that I’m sure you’re just going through a rough patch it happens to all couples right?”

“But Chanyeol how could he keep such a big secret from me. How could he not tell me that Luhan is back? Did I not deserve to know? Maybe this marriage should never have happened.” You paused and looked up to your right as you heard the front door closing and footsteps stopping near where the coats hung.

“So now you regret our marriage hmm?” Minseok seethed, staring at you through angry eyes, reminding you of how he used to be when you first met him and it made your skin crawl. “So I don’t tell you about Luhan, and now that means our marriage is being questioned. I didn’t tell you because I was trying to keep you safe. I wanted to keep you safe and sane Y/N! If that’s not being a good husband then I don’t know what is? You know what?…yeah let’s talk. In fact Chanyeol get the fuck out, I need to talk to my wife since that’s we she wants.” His voice was laced with venom as he darted his eyes towards Chanyeol, who was now rising from his space on the couch.

“No! Chanyeol stay!” You shouted at him as if he was a dog, but that was the least of your concerns at this moment.

“No! Chanyeol get the fuck out now!” Minseok shouted taking a step closer in your direction.

“No Minseok he’s staying!” You both looked at Chanyeol who was still stood there, his eyes wide looking between the two of you.

“You know what I’ll just go, I need to pick up Soo and bring him here anyway may as well go now hmm? See you in a bit.” He quickly darted out of your house before you could stop him, slamming the door shut behind him. You rolled your eyes as you began to walk to your room, you were steaming inside, absolutely raging.

“Oi! Come back here we’ve not finished talking, you wanted to talk so let’s talk!” You ignored him and carried on walking to your room, causing him to follow closely behind.
“I said let’s talk!” He slammed the door behind him.

“Fuck off Min!” You shouted, throwing your phone down hard on the bed. This is not what you envisioned your life to be like when you said ‘I do.’

“No! No I won’t Y/N after everything we’ve been through! After everything I’ve ever opened up to you about, the way I’ve expressed my love to you. I’ve never loved anyone but you Y/N! You’re the first and last woman I ever want to have feelings for. How could you question our marriage?! How the fuck could you do that!” His eyes were red now and they were filled with tears his hands shaking violently as his eyes bore into the back of your skull. “If this was such a fucking mistake why did you pick me, hmm? You had so many fucking options; Chanyeol, Jongin, Yixing, fuck it you even had Kris at one point so why didn’t you pick one of them if this isn’t good enough for you!?”

“MAYBE I FUCKING SHOULD HAVE MINSEOK!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. Your chest was heaving up and down coinciding with your heavy breathing as you stared at him, tears streaming down your face. His eyes opened wide the tears that were pooled at his waterline finally flowing down his cheeks. He nodded slowly, looking down at his hands. He removed his ring from his finger and put it in his jewellery compartment box on the edge of your dressing table.

“Okay…I see how it is. For once in my life; after I had my parents snatched away from me, I finally begin to think I’m worthy of someone and wanted by someone. But I guess I’m wrong. I’ll leave that in there until you figure what and who you want.” He pointed at the ring in the compartment box. “Until you figure out whether or not our marriage is good enough for you to be a part of. Turn off the light when you’re done.” Without saying another word Minseok slowly slipped under the sheets of the bed and closed his eyes.
You let out a grunt, clearly you didn’t want to be with any of the others you were just mad and now you were going to have to ‘talk’ to each other. At that moment you heard a knock at the front door. You sighed heavily making your way over to the door to open it, finding Chanyeol and Kyungsoo there. You smiled at them softly, your eyes still red and wet, dry tears stains marking your cheeks.

“Hey…are you okay?” Chanyeol said in a soft voice looking at you sadly. You had to admit that your best friend was truly the best; he cared so much for you. You nodded lightly, stepping aside for Kyungsoo to wheel himself in. “Look if you need anything just call me okay.” Chanyeol smiled, walking away from your door. You closed it quietly and spun around to see Kyungsoo staring at you in confusion.

“Is…is everything alright? Was it Minseok? He didn’t hit you did he?”

“No.” You laughed lightly. “No it was just a stupid argument.” You sat down on the sofa and waited for Kyungsoo to wheel himself near you.

“I hope it wasn’t because of me intruding or anything.” His face was worried as he continued to stare at you, waiting for you discredit his suspicions.

“Oh no. God no Kyungsoo, don’t be silly. That’s not the issue at all don’t worry about your stay, at least I’ll actually have someone to talk.” He smiled at you slightly; relieved that he wasn’t the cause of the argument you’d had with Minseok.

“I owe you one Y/N, for letting me stay. I just had to get out of there for a while, the stairs were becoming way too much for me.” He hung his head a bit, but you smiled at him anyway.

“Kyungsoo honestly it’s fine. So tell me apart from the stairs how have you been coping?”

He let out a breath, and frowned slightly. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll never really be okay Y/N. It’s one thing to be born paralysed, cause that’s kind of always how your life was and so you’re ‘used to it’ in sense. I use that term loosely by the way. But to have been able to walk and run perfectly and then have it all taken away. I don’t know, sometimes I don’t know if life is worth all of this hassle for me. I get those days where I don’t even want to exist anymore.” He frowned, but it was a sad frown. One that made your heart break piece by piece. Ironically you reached over and rubbed his leg to comfort him, offering a comfort he couldn’t even feel.

“Kyungsoo don’t say that. People want you around, everyone cares for you. And I’m not saying it doesn’t get tough, I have no right to because I have no idea what you’re going through, but that’s when you have to push all the more harder. To tell you the honest truth Kyungsoo I used to hate you, especially the whole Jongdae’s blood incident.” He rolled his eyes in embarrassment.
“Now though, you’re probably one of my favourites.” You smiled brightly, letting him know he was worth more than he thought he was.

“Well on the bright side. Babu came to pick me up last weekend.” Kyungsoo smiled “I got to hold my niece for the first time and I met his wife. I saw my mum again.”

“Aww Kyungsoo, that’s lovely.” You smiled at him, you were happy if he was happy because he had been through a lot and he deserved that much.

“I was going to ask how you and Minseok were settling down but…”
Your smile left your face immediately replaying the image of Minseok taking his ring off in your mind.

“It’s been a bit hard lately, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” You said in the most unconvincing tone ever. “Look I’ll quickly go and sort out the spare room so you can get to sleep okay Soo? It’s late and you must be pretty tired.” You stood up walking over to the spare room that still had one or two wedding gifts lying in it from your parents.
You weren’t looking forward to sleeping next to your husband tonight.

It had been a couple of days since the argument with Minseok and you still hadn’t spoken to him nor him to you.  It was kind of hard to rekindle your relationship when Kyungsoo was there but you were just grateful for Kyungsoo’s company.
You were making your way home from work one night; you had just gotten off of the phone from Chanyeol, ranting about everything you possibly could to him, before you started your car engine. You switched on the radio to your favourite radio station, quietly singing along to the songs so you could keep your mind off of Minseok, you were frustrated because you loved him. You loved him so much you just wanted to hug him and kiss him, but at the same time you wanted to rip him to shreds for leaving you in the dark and lying to you for God knows how long. You frowned looking up at the rear view mirror. You felt as though the car behind had been following you for quite some distance. You were probably just imagining it, but to be sure you parked off the road for a while just to make sure you had lost them. Once you were sure they had gone you continued to drive. But suddenly you saw the car behind you again, you were just about to indicate and make a detour when you felt your tyres deflate and scrape across the road, sparks flying out beside you. The rear glass screen was shot at twice and shattered to a million pieces. You let out a shrill scream; your heart was pounding violently against your chest it took you a moment to register that you were under attack. Slowly you reached over to the seat next to you reaching for your phone in your bag and dialling the first contact in your phone book.


It rang once, twice. But just as he picked up the call the line had been intercepted by someone else. A voice you’d never heard before. You were scared beyond belief; your heart was pounding wildly. It began to speak in a sinister tone, sending chills down your spine.

Think about calling anyone else and the next bullet will go straight through your skull, now hang up and put your phone down.”

Then Again: P1 Peter Parker x Reader

Author’s Note: This is the first fanfiction piece I’ve ever posted, so I’m learning how this all works as I go. I’ll probably post this on AO3 sometime soon, but because I’ll need to make an account, etc, it might be a little while before it’s available there.

Additionally, please review! 

I’m excited (and extremely nervous) to put my writing out there for the first time, so any comments, questions, or advice are absolutely welcome! 

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Then Again, Part 1:

(Word count: 1,358)

Living in New York City rarely feels as glamorous as the movies and aesthetic blogs make it seem. Most days, that lively hustle and bustle of our beautiful, always dreaming city reminds me of a horde of flies conducting emergency drills underwater. Especially on foggy days. And muggy days. And Mondays, Tuesdays, occasionally Wednesdays. However, the almost-weekend to weekend days that sprinkle in refreshing breezes alongside bright sunshine - those days pull you up by the back of your collar and shove optimism down your shirt like it’s a cool, wet towel. The city tingles from the ground up.

Today is one of those good days.

Ironically, I woke up exhausted. I nearly spilled my breakfast in my lap (but didn’t, thanks to Peter) and I walked with my three best friends to school through fields of exhaust fumes half-awake. Once there, however, it all seemed to turn around. The classes I attended went wonderfully and the classes I didn’t attend, I’ll assume went just as well. I skipped half of them for the first time in my life.

Besides occasional “homework sharing,” I rarely break rules, it’s just that Ned and Michelle can be extremely persuasive… not that I needed much persuasion today. The suggestion was enough. I’ve been so giddy this week that I embraced the tiny taste of teenage rebellion with open arms. (“Tiny” seems like an appropriate description: all we did was hide out in random parts of the school watching Vines, playing minor pranks in the hallways during breaks, and stealing food from Peter’s stash of locker snacks as payback for his refusal to join us.)

Today has been a great day, and outside of Peter acting a bit strange, it’s been a good week overall. It’s just so easy to be happy with everything going on. Tonight: special dinner with our friends. Tomorrow: Midtown’s academic decathlon team heads to Washington, D.C. Shortly after, my friends and I will attend homecoming, go on summer break, and enter our senior year of high school. My anticipation for this trip, the dance, the summer, and our eventual graduation bubbles up inside my stomach anytime the conversation between me and two of my best friends takes a short dip as we walk back from school.

Despite all of the upcoming things I have to think about, this walk is making my thoughts drift back to the one topic I’ve been trying most to avoid. Why wouldn’t Peter sneak out of class? He isn’t always such a rule follower anymore. And then why leave seventh hour when we all have class together? Is it just a today thing? He’s seemed… off all week.

I needed to stop thinking about him. Wondering why he’s been strangely reserved or else imagining the previous seven hours with him more present in their events is not going to help me keep our friendship normal. Just think about something else. Anything else. Even someone else.

“Should we invite Flash?” I ask. I ask this partly because it’s a question nobody has brought up yet, and partly because the conversation has certainly dipped and my brain wants to sprint away from my control. I even thought I saw Spidey a minute ago. By now he’s on the other side of Queens. Think of something else.

We stop on the sidewalk, traffic rushing in front of us, countless buzzing people behind everywhere else.

Ned and Michelle turn to me with matching expressions.

“And why would we do that?” Ned asks.

“Because every-”

“Oh, shit.” Michelle groans. “Because everyone else, bar Mr. Harrington, is going. The entire team except Flash. For being so smart, we’re all a bunch of fucking idiots.”

“Technically we don’t have to do anything,” Ned says, obviously resistant to the idea. “It isn’t an official team dinner or whatever. We can’t get in trouble for it.”

“Still, as captain, I can’t organize a social gathering with everyone but Flash and pretend it isn’t a shitty thing to do. God damn it.”

The walk signal turns white as Michelle starts a text to Flash. Peter’s apartment is only a few blocks away.

Once we reach the door, Ned knocks. We all know Peter and May won’t be in, but Ned has a habit of politeness that even that few things can shake. After a couple seconds, he unlocks it himself with one of the five total keys to the apartment. (Strictly speaking, May isn’t supposed to have had three extra copies made, but she wouldn’t be May if she paid mind to that rule.)

“So,” Michelle says, heaving her bookbag into a chair. “Music and clean, then Netflix and chill?”

The three of us look around at the destruction our last night of studying brought the apartment. Snacks and dishes are strewn in odd places and our fallen pillow fort is a ruin. A sticky 5 Hour Energy must have splashed on the carpet at some point, given the pink stain to the right of the couch. Coating most of the colossal mess are countless pieces of scribbled-on paper.

Ned and I nod in agreement.

Michelle’s speaker beeps awake and we set to work.

As I gather garbage, I let the music fill up my skull. I imagine confetti raining down inside of it, each piece sparkling with tiny letters that read: It’s just one of those good days.

The only thing that could make this day better would be the presence of Peter and May Parker. But then again, Peter ducked out of last hour, I suppose to get a head start on his “internship” (he’s never done that before though, so the irony of his skipping part of Psych and not any other classes did not slide by unnoticed by Michelle or Ned either) and May has… a job, a hobby? I really don’t know. Wherever they are and whatever they’re doing, I can’t help wishing they were home.

May returns around 5 p.m. As usual, she is unsurprised to find us watching Netflix. Over the last couple weeks, we took study breaks by picking out a lighthearted show and making questions from an episode. Today is an exclusively no-studying day, but we can’t help continuing the mini-tradition while we marathon Friends.

“Ah, the Studying-Not-Studying game.”

May walks over smiling, her arms crossed.

“It’s a vital healing process for our near-fatally strained brains,” I joke.

A phone buzzes.

“Wait, Miss MJ! You can’t answer that text until you answer my question for this episode. Were they,” May says, “or were they not,” she pauses, “on a break?”

“Oh god, no,” I plead. “Please, please, don’t start this again! Ned and MJ argued about this for twenty minutes before you got here!”

“Okay, but Rachel did say-” Ned begins.

“Oh my god, Ned! We talked about this!”

Michelle begins explaining with her hands and May grins, walking into the kitchen. Feinting defeat, I put my head in my hands and sink into the couch cushion. Slumped, I take out my own phone. Nothing.

I text Peter.

“Still good for 7:30?”

Whoosh. And now the waiting game begins. Actually, it began at 3:00 p.m. when I sent the first of a dozen messages. But none of them were questions, so an answer wasn’t necessary.

“Hey MJ,” I say. “What was that text you got?”

Michelle and Ned halt, hands frozen in expressionistic flight.

“Let’s see.” She flips her phone over. “It’s from Flash.”

Ned clasps his hands together.

“Dear merciful God,” he prays. “Please, please, let MJ read us a rejection text from Eugene ‘Flash’ Ass-Hat Rich-Boy Bitch-Boy.”

We made up that nickname today while cutting fourth hour. Not quite eloquent, but to the point. Plus, it’s almost impossible to say seven times fast. (We made a game of trying.)

Michelle types a quick response and takes a breath, placing her hand on Ned’s shoulder.

“Prepare yourself for something dreadful, Ned.” She hangs her head. “Eugene ‘Flash’ Ass-Hat Rich-Boy Bitch-Boy is… ‘super doped out’ to accept our invitation.”

“God damn it.”

“Kids!” May calls from the kitchen. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to watch your language?”

Part 2

A/N: The content above is only 3 pages of a current 44 pages. If there are any mistakes in it, I apologize. Tonight was my self-set deadline and I didn’t edit it as thoroughly as I would have preferred. (Betas welcome!)

I’m hoping to update again around Saturday, 

but because my weekend is so busy, I’m can’t promise anything. Still, I am planning to update weekly!

Again, please let me know what you think – I’d love to hear from you!

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Thoughts on t100 Fandom

Hey y’all,

I’ve been mulling over the following for a while and wasn’t sure if I was going to post it, but I’ve seen a few things on my dash lately that have swayed me to make this public. These thoughts aren’t directed at anyone in particular, just general Tumblr culture and t100 fandom specifically. I am not positioning myself as an authority on either in any way, but there are troubling trends even within my small fandom circle. I’ve seen too many people get hurt over misunderstandings and petty drama, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Please know that I say all of these things with love and humility.

  • If you have an issue with someone that can be resolved privately, please consider resolving it that way. It keeps everyone else’s dash free of unnecessary drama and keeps things from spiraling out of control. 
  • Along the same lines, if you see some vague posts flying around or accusations being levied against someone, talk to those people in private rather than contributing to an unfounded public discussion. Oftentimes those posts are misleading and end up damaging someone’s reputation for no reason.
  • Don’t hijack someone’s post. This means: if you have a strongly contradictory opinion about someone’s post, a negative opinion, or just an off topic response inspired by the post make your own post instead of reblogging theirs with your comment (esp if you don’t know the OP)–it’s just self preservation, honestly. Make sure you fully understand what the OP is saying you choose to reference it in any way. Things get twisted so easily on this site and before you know it you’ve started The Discourse.
  • Don’t speak over people and don’t discredit them for their age, race, sexuality, you name it. No one should feel ashamed to speak their mind especially in regards to fandom opinions (except literal nazis, fuck those guys). Tumblr culture encourages people to jump down each other’s throats rather than engaging in actual conversation. This competition to be the most progressive doesn’t translate to the way people are treated in these exchanges. Its very disheartening because often real issues are being discussed but the thread gets overtaken by name-calling and ad hominem attacks. 
  • Nobody gets to speak for everybody. Learn to discern between real issues (and there sure are some!) and personal drama dressed up as as discussion of gospel truth. You are not obligated to agree with anyone else’s opinion, despite how much righteous anger might emanate from their post.
  • When it comes to criticism: everyone comes at fandom from a different perspective and background, and we all should be able to respect each other’s POV without immediately jumping to “You’re wrong bc you’re X” or “I’m right bc I’m Y.” There is a wonderful diversity in this fandom, and we need to appreciate that by listening to each other, not attacking each other.   **Please understand I am not excusing any bigoted behavior, for which I absolutely will not stand, or trying to invalidate anyone’s point of view, but too often this fandom jumps with a hive mind mentality to “this person is sexist bc they disagree with this person or this argument,” etc.**
  • Don’t be an asshole. Don’t send someone unsolicited negative opinions no matter how much you hate their ship or favorite character or interpretation of the show. It’s rude and unnecessary and creates a very toxic culture. Be snarky all you want with people who agree with you over private messages or on your own blog (we all need this, I repeat, WE ALL NEED THIS), but don’t shit in people’s inboxes and don’t drag people who like what you hate into it. No one ever had their mind changed by a nasty message, anon or not.
  • If one of your mutuals or friends engages in any of these destructive behaviors, talk to them! It’s possible that you don’t know the whole situation, but its also possible that they didn’t realize how they were coming across. It’s much better to have a friend approach you than to have your post taken out of context or turned into discourse. We all make mistakes, and it’s so easy for people to take things the wrong way when all you have is text.
  • Don’t let the negativity in your feed discourage you. The people who make fandom less fun only get air time if we let them, so instead of reblogging shitty posts because you like the drama, focus your energy on people who are making this fandom better.
  • Curate your dash. Follow who you want, don’t just follow people because they are popular if you don’t like what they post. If seeing someone or something in your feed bums you out, unfollow/block/blacklist that shit. It will improve your life SO MUCH, I promise.
  • You’re not a bad person because you like a fictional character or ship. Anyone who tell you that or gives you hate for it is wrong.  Especially with a show like t100, where it’s messy and fucked up and all our faves make all the wrong choices sometimes. Do I have characters I really dislike? Sure, of course I do. But I’m not going to think less of anyone who likes those characters. I will, however, think less of people who attack or belittle others for their character or ship preferences. Real people matter more than fictional characters, no matter what.
  • This fandom has so many amazing people in it, don’t forget that!! And the content creators…we are BLESSED. The fanart, fanfic, meta, edits, playlists, etc that y’all create blow me away each and every day. Keep reblogging the shit you like, because its amazing and it deserves all the credit in the world.
  • Every little act of kindness truly matters. Take minute to send a kind message to a friend, leave a review on AO3, submit compliments about underrated bloggers to t100positivity.

I hope this makes sense. I think we can work together to build a better fandom for everyone. I don’t want these types of habits to ruin anyone’s fandom experience or worse, especially as we head into s5. I’m always here if you need to talk, and I really appreciate everyone who has made my fandom experience so positive. Thank you ❤️

anonymous asked:

I was wondering how you first started your berry legacy? Did you make a new simblr for it? How did you first start posting and getting into a routine? I really want to make a legacy myself but i'm scared that it would look really mediocre and unorganized! Any tips on how to plan out the storyline and start posting? Thank you!! (asking this to a few different blogs so sorry if yo see this question somewhere else)

I’m honestly super honored that you’re asking me! I’m still a pretty small simblr compared to a lot of people.

I’m going to put this under a cut, just so it doesn’t clutter up people’s dashes because I RAMBLE (like seriously, I’m re-reading it all now and I go on and on and on) but I’m gonna cover everything you asked!

TL;DR: get mildly inspired, get involved in the community and have fun with it!

Keep reading

noratedreamer  asked:

So general advice haha

“I saw your recent post! Do you have any advice for those wanting to submit a portfolio themselves?”

I’m going to start out and say that I’m not an expert and a lot of this stuff I’m spouting is advice I’ve gotten from other sheridan/calarts students, my mentors, and personal experience. (THIS IS GONNA BE ONE HELL OF A DOOZY POST I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS HEAVY READING AND TYPOS) 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What's your favorite quote?

This is so hard considering I literally have 200+ notes in my phone of quotes, but I’ll go through and pick some faves :)

“If you only walk on sunny days you’ll never reach your destination.”

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, an hour, a day, or even a year. But eventually it will subside, and something else will take its place. If I quit however, it will last forever.“

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

“Your body is made of the same elements that lionesses are built from. Three quarters of you is the same kind of water that beats rocks to rubble, wears stones away. Your DNA translates into the same twenty amino acids that wolf genes code for. When you look in the mirror and feel weak, remember, the air you breathe in fuels forest fires capable of destroying everything they touch. On the days you feel ugly, remember: diamonds are only carbon. You are so much more.”

“I believe in the gift of pain. I believe that loss deepens us. I am grateful for God’s graciousness toward me that he would teach me these things. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve found a new gratitude, & it’s gratitude for the way God has redeemed darkness & pain, for the way he brings something beautiful out of something horrible.”

“It’s amazing how you can get so far from where you had planned, and yet find it was exactly where you needed to be.”

“You can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you.”

“Live in such a way that if someone spoke badly of you no one would believe it.”

“Effort won’t betray you.”

“Everything you are going through is preparing you for everything you asked for.”

“If there was never change, there would be no butterflies.”

“Go as long as you can go … then take another step.”

(I just started crying because these touch me so deeply lol)

“Sometimes life will test you but remember this: When you walk up a mountain, your legs get stronger.”

“My current situation is not my final destination.”

“Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.”

“Jesus replied, ‘You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.’”

“I stopped looking for the light. Decided to become it instead.”

“I just hope 
I’ve touched places 
further and deeper, 
past places 
any hands could ever reach.”

“This is an important lesson to remember when you’re having a bad day, a bad month, or a shitty year. Things will change: you won’t feel this way forever. And anyway, sometimes the hardest lessons to learn are the ones your soul needs most. I believe you can’t feel real joy unless you’ve felt heartache. You can’t have a sense of victory unless you know what it means to fail. You can’t know what it’s like to feel holy until you know what it’s like to feel really evil. And you can’t be birthed again until you’ve died.”

“God’s 3 answers to your prayers: 1. Yes. 2. Not yet. 3. I have something better in mind.”

“You are so used to your features, you don’t know how beautiful you look to a stranger.”

“When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.”

“If you want the things that other people don’t have, then you have to do the things that other people don’t do.”

“Remember yourself as a little girl, she is counting on you to protect her.”

“I remember the days I prayed for the things I have now.”

“I know today is Monday and you assume it’s going to suck, but according to statistics, there will be over 5,000 weddings, 10,000 childbirths, and 42 million hugs occurring today throughout the United States. Also today, there will be at least 4 people that will win the multimillion dollar lotteries, 600 people will get promotions at work, and 3,000 people will lose their virginity. There will also be 600 dogs adopted, 35,000 balloons sold, and 800,000 skittles eaten. Plus, the words “I love you” will be said over 9 million times. So again, I know today is Monday and you assume it’s going to suck, but just smile, because according to statistics, it should actually be a really nice day.”

“Even more important than the medals or the titles that you will win is the person that you become through the process of trying to reach that point. That will stay with you forever.”

“Work until your idols become your competition.”

“Date someone who gives you the same feeling of when you see your food coming at a restaurant.”

“It takes more than two legs to finish this race.”

“Work hard in silence and let your success be your noise.”

“God says ‘The reason why some people have turned against you and walked away from you without reason…has nothing to do with you. It is because I have removed them from your life because they cannot go where I am taking you next. They would only hinder you at the next level because they have already served their purpose in your life. Let them go and keep moving. Greater is coming your way.’”

“I hope you meet someone who wants to experience you and not just see you by their eyes. Someone who doesn’t only want to have sex with you but moves their fingers over your body like trying to find a city on a world map and mark their favourite destinations. Someone who wants to experience you like a masterpiece. Whenever we observe a masterpiece we get the urge to touch it and most of the time we do, involuntarily, because it’s so perfect that we not only want to see it with our eyes and forget its details later on because I read somewhere that every time you recall a memory your brain edits it bit by bit so we long to experience it so that each part which contributes to its perfection stays with us after all how scary it would be to forget how perfect you felt. So I hope someone experiences you like a summer breeze stroking your hair, like the warmth of bonfire on a chilly winter night, like the taste of that traditional homemade dish by a mother for her children who’s taste forever lingers in their mouth. I hope you find someone who justifies in treating you like the perfect art you are.”

“They say running tests the limits of the human heart. But really, it reminds me that I had one all along.”

“We live on a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea, and you don’t believe in miracles?”

“For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.
So collapse. 
This is not your destruction.
This is your birth.”

“Someday you will look back and know exactly why it had to happen.”

“She was unstoppable. Not because she did not have failures or doubts, but because she continued on despite them.”

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

“The only reason you should ever look back is to see how far you’ve come.”

“You must be prepared to work always without applause.”

“When you do something noble and beautiful and nobody noticed, do not be sad. For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps.”

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Relationship: Michael x Reader

Words: 7K+

SGFG Series

Author’s Note: This is filled with so much angst it’s quite ridiculous. I am really proud of this piece though as it’s the longest piece I’ve ever written. It’s been a week in the making and hopefully the content shows. Anyways, this is my addition to the Sounds Good Feels Good Series I am currently hosting. If you want to read other installments refer to the link above. Feedback is appreciated! 

The engagement had been fast, less than a years time. Neither Michael nor her had ever pictured a grand wedding for themselves making the planning process easy. A small gathering with their closest friends and family and an exchange of beautiful rings and the two were married three months after the question was popped and all was well.

They went on a lavish honeymoon across Italy where they ate entirely too much pizza and learned that pasta is much more than straggly noodles and red tomatoes sauce. Michael and Y/N fell more in love on the trip than they thought was possible. Paris may have been the city of love but Italy was the country of romance.

Now that the pair was back home though, the dynamic had changed. No longer were they a couple on their honeymoon unable to keep their roaming hands off each other in public. Instead, they were back to reality in their one bedroom apartment with a shitty air conditioning unit that made the California July sun unbearable. Michael blamed the humidity in their place for the wedge between the two at night, neither one of them able to cling to each other without dripping in sweat but Y/N blamed herself for not writing enough pieces for this month’s edition of her web based magazine to earn a decent paycheck.

“It’s my fault we can’t get out of this shitty apartment,” she mumbled.

It was the first night in weeks that the two were able to share a bed thanks to a random storm that was passing through the city. The television flickering light illuminating the dark room while Michael’s thumb massaged soothing circles into the place just above her hips.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered before placing a series of open mouth kisses to the base of her neck, where her collar bones laid.

“It is though,” she huffed. “We knew when we got married that I’d be making most of the money until you make it out of those hole in the wall clubs.”

Michael knew she didn’t mean to sound rude but he couldn’t help but take offense to her words. Of course, Michael would love to be the number one provider of the household. He’d love for her to able to write whatever she wanted because she loves writing instead of having to do it for a paycheck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to do that for her yet. He was trying his hardest though, taking up extra shifts as a barista in between his band’s sets at the local coffee shop and writing as many new songs as he could to gain more of a following. He knew that one day his music was going to be good enough to get out of that place but right now he was stuck and Michael hated being stuck.

“It’ll happen soon. Ashton’s been talking to a music producer in town that’s going to help us record our demo soon.”

“I’m proud of you,” she smiled, before her voice faltered and her face fell. “How much is studio time?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation. He knew they were scrapped for money, sure, but didn’t you have to spend money to make it? This demo track could make his career and if it meant he’d have to take on more shifts at the coffee shop then he would. “Besides, this will change everything for us. I promise.”

“It better ‘cause I really don’t want to have to move back home,” she teased.

At least Michael thought she was teasing but he didn’t dwell on it too much. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with a coffee shop shift to get ready for in the early hours of the morning.


July had faded into August and things were going okay again. Michael had picked up a few extra shifts at the coffee shop to cover the cost of the demo tape and Y/N had started a second job at the local day care by their apartment to start a savings account for their future. They weren’t swimming in money but they were getting by and that’s all that really mattered.

The clock that hung on the wall by the entrance read five in the morning when Michael crept inside after his late night shift at the 24 hour coffee shop. He was exhausted, the purple bags under his eyes contrasting with the paleness of his complexion. All he wanted to do was flop into bed and sleep for the next few hours before the routine started over, but when he heard the running water coming from the bathroom sleep became the last thing on his mind.

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anonymous asked:

Lagertha denouncing Aslaug as a "witch"? And saying Aslaug's sons are "born of a witch"? Where the hell did this come from? Is Lagertha some kind of committed witch-burner now? Lagertha seemed perfectly fine with the Seer having supernatural visions and other mystical pagan experiences. But it's bad and evil if Aslaug has such visions? Or is Lagertha just calling Aslaug a "witch" because she "bewitched" Ragnar into adultery?

Lagertha saying that Aslaug isn’t fit to rule because she’s a witch is the most misogynistic reasoning ever. Countless women in history were accused of witchcraft; it was basically the most common way to insult them. Millions died because of such crazy accusations. Does Lagertha really think that Ragnar didn’t have a wandering eye? She even asked him not to sleep with other women, so she knew he was easily tempted. And why wouldn’t he have wanted Aslaug? She was a beautiful princess.

I didn’t understand why Lagertha called Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk & Ivar sons of a “witch” with distain. I thought Norse culture embraced women as magical. I felt like that remark is something that would be said in 17th century Salem Massachusetts, not 9th century Scandinavia.

Okay so this is going to be a long post, so I’m gonna use a cut. And as always, keep in mind that I am not an expert, just someone who is a fan of the sagas.

First thing first, when Lagertha calls Aslaug a “witch”, she doesn’t just mean a seeress or even a person who performs magic. She specifically means a woman who performs magic for *evil* purposes. So, I’m gonna attempt to break down, what she means in the context of witches in (my readings of) the sagas and the shows history and ultimately, why what she’s saying is kind of… disgusting, imo.

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Star Crossed: Chapter 1

So, here’s the first chapter of my modern day everlark au. I was super nervous about posting, but I hope you all like it! Any feedback/advice is greatly appreciated!

And thanks to the amazing hungergameshutch for all her help with editing and everything else! Go follow her and make sure you check out her fanfictions, they’ll tear you apart.


Chapter One:


I watch as his eyes flutter closed, too weak to keep them open any longer.

I hold his hand in mine, both of us soaked to the skin, and plead for him to hang on just a little bit longer.

“Peeta! Stay with me!”

“Mm-lways.” He mumbles, barely audible above the heavy rain and raging traffic all around us.

Peeta’s once crisp white shirt is now completely saturated with rain, but he stopped shivering long ago.

I can see the final dregs of life slowly fading away and I’m left completely helpless. There is nothing I can do. 

Where is the fucking ambulance?

I check the sweater that I tied around his leg, in an attempt to make a tourniquet to stop some of the blood. But he is losing too much, and dying right before my eyes.

I somehow made it out with only a few minor cuts and bruises, while Peeta took the hit at full force. He’d be glad that I’m safe and okay, but I know, when he doesn’t make it I’ll be furthest thing from okay.

Before I met Peeta, my life was about as shitty as life could get, and I was on the verge of depression. But then one fortunate day Peeta showed up and changed everything for the better. 

And that wasn’t even the first time he changed my life. 

I can’t go back to that. He is my whole life. Without him, I’d have nothing.

“Peeta, look at me, please. You can’t leave me. I need you." 

His eyes open slowly, there’s so much struggle behind such a simple everyday action, that’s how I know his time is almost up. He smiles weakly at me, and rubs his thumb across my hand.

I lock my tear-filled eyes on his brilliant crystal blue ones, trying to remember how breathtaking they are as this may be the last time I see them.

I try and take in his other features as well, his ashy blonde hair, chiseled jaw and broad shoulders. It’s hard to see them as anything else than how they appear in this moment; his hair is stained with blood and dirt, his jaw covered in cuts, and his shoulders seem frail and thin, as if he’s slowly disappearing.

"Hold on, Peeta, okay? Hold on for me." 

I hear the sirens roaring a few miles away, but they won’t be here anytime soon. A twenty-two car pile-up will not be easy to bypass.

"Katniss, sing?" 

He knows he’s dying, he knows it as well as I do, and my voice is the last thing he wants to hear.  

So I start to sing…

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.”

My voice is shaky and unstable but Peeta smiles at me and I know that I must keep going.

“Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes. And when you wake the sun-.”

I stop suddenly, something’s different. 

His body is still.

I press my ear against the spot where I always rest my head on his chest, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence…


I throw my arms around him and sob into his shoulder. My body shakes violently. “How could you leave me Peeta? How could you leave me like this?”

He’ll never know that he was going to be a father. 

He told me that one thing he always wanted, was for us to raise a child together. 

And now I am finally granting him that wish, but he won’t be here to see it come true.

And he’s left me alone to care for our son or daughter, who will look just like him. I’ll have to look at my child everyday, and see my beautiful Peeta, then my mind will flash to his lifeless bloody body that currently lies before me.

How will I raise this child? How will I survive without him?

Seconds, minutes, or possibly hours pass before I hear the sirens blaring in my ears and see the flashing red and blue lights. Everything around me is a blur, except for my lifeless husband lying in front of me.

I feel the strong grip of someone trying to take me away from Peeta. Petrified, I lunge for him, but I’m caught. I watch helplessly, screaming for Peeta, as they lift him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.


I pace back and forth in the waiting room, desperate to see Peeta. I haven’t laid eyes on him since he was put in the ambulance, despite my constant pleas and demands. 

For the first four hours I was left in agony with no information.

Finally, Peeta’s doctor, Dr. Aurelius, comes out wiping his brow. He seems stressed, tired and agitated. I, of course, feared the worse and immediately broke down, unable to hold back the tears.

“Mrs. Mellark, fortunately, we have revived your husband and he’s responding well to treatment but-”

I ignore the rest of Dr. Aurelius’s statements. Peeta is alive.

“When can I see him?” I interrupt, ignoring his annoyed glare.

“But, due to the accident, Mr. Mellark has unfortunately lost his leg. We’ll have him fitted for a prosthetic as soon as he wakes up.”

“When can I see him?” I ask again. 

“I’m afraid it will be a few more hours, we still have some more tests to run.”

I simply nod in response, and Dr. Aurelius returns it, and heads back towards Peeta’s room.

My husband is alive. He’s missing a limb, but he’s alive. I won’t be leaving this hospital alone, and more importantly, I won’t be raising our child alone. 

The thought causes me to cry once again. How do I have any tears left? It feels like I haven’t stopped, since the accident, and since I held Peeta’s unresponsive body.

I attempt to push those horrible images out of my mind, and fail miserably.

During the next few hours, I find myself reading trashy gossip magazines and talking with friends and family.

Peeta’s mother hasn’t called, not that I expected she would. She and Peeta never had a good relationship, and since his father died last year they haven’t spoken. 

Just after midnight, Peeta’s best friend, Finnick visited. His wife, Annie, stayed at home to look after their son.

Finnick Odair was tall, blonde, and tanned to perfection. That confident smile he usually wears has faded with tonight's events. Although no amount of sadness could diminish his natural beauty.   

“How is he?” Finnick asks, enveloping me in a hug.

I explain Peeta’s current state, alive but with one less limb.

“And how are you holding up, Katniss?" 

"I’m fine,” I lie. 

He gives me a skeptical look, but quickly moves on, knowing in no way I could possibly be fine in this situation, and that there’s nothing he can do. All that I need is Peeta.

“I’ll look after Mellark’s for a couple of weeks, so make sure Peeta doesn’t worry.”

Mellark’s is Peeta’s restaurant. Finnick often works there during busy times, or when Peeta and I are unavailable. It’s quite successful in our little town, and we’ve been considering expanding, but all of our plans will be put on hold for now.

“Thank you, Finnick. I’ll let Peeta know you visited too.”

“Okay Katniss. Call us when you’re home, and we’ll all come visit.” He hugs me again, and then he’s gone.

My sister, Prim, called but it was only for a few minutes since she was busy working at the hospital across town. She promised to come visit, with her new boyfriend as soon as she could.

My sister is the only family I have left. It was just Prim and I together for so many years, and unfortunately, now I only get to see her every couple of months. I treasure every visit.

My thoughts are interrupted once again by a young nurse with dark-skin and brown hair. “Mrs. Mellark?” she asks. “Your husband is just waking up if you’d like to go in and see him.”

My eyes promptly pool with tears and I nod eagerly. The young nurse smiles and leads me to Peeta.

“Thank you.” I say, before bursting into the room.

“Peeta!” I cry, my voice strangled by tears. I rush to his bedside, grab his hand in mine, and run my free hand through his messy hair and down his jaw. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Peeta coos.

“Peeta! You were dead! Your heart stopped!" 

"It’s okay, it’s working now.” He says, leaning up painfully slow, to kiss me.

It’s a tear filled kiss, but even when Peeta is at his weakest, I can still feel the strength he brings to everything. 

“Your leg.” I whisper. 

“It’s fine, Katniss. I’ll manage. Do you want to see it?”

I nod, and pull back the blanket to reveal a stump that cuts off just after the knee. 

“Oh, Peeta.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m just relieved that you’re okay.” He holds out his arms and I cuddle up beside him, craving his touch. 

I rest my head gently on his shoulder. He strokes my hair, and I drift off into a somewhat peaceful sleep.

7 hours earlier


Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ plays through my car radio and I listen contently, as I drive, to Katniss softly singing along.

We’re on our way home from Mellark’s after a long day of work. Rain pounds against the window and soaks the highway.

I spot a car swerving back and forth behind us, most likely a drunk driver.

They start to speed up and before I even have time to react, it smashes into our vehicle.

The airbags blow up, our car skids into the car in front of us, and the windows crack and smash from the impact.

All around us cars are screeching, skidding and crashing, and Katniss’s screams almost drown out the loud booms of the many cars colliding.

I notice a sharp pain in my leg, I pull out a very large shard of glass, wincing with the pain and find my fingers coated in blood. 

I start to feel dizzy and slump against the airbag, barely conscious. Katniss screams my name. I want nothing more than to make sure that she is safe, but there is nothing that I can do.

Please be okay Katniss.

I hear her car door open, and within seconds she’s opened the remains of my door and is tugging at my arm, trying to get me out of the car. I take a mental note that she is able to walk, which brings me some relief.

“Peeta, can you move?”

I can’t move my leg. I can hardly even feel it, which is not a good sign. 

I barely have the strength to shake my head.

“Okay, I’m going to try move you, it’s going to hurt, but I have to get you out." 

I cry out. The pain is unbearable. I can hear Katniss crying and muttering apologies, and then I fall unconscious.

When I wake, I’m lying down and Katniss is gripping my hand tightly.

The pain in my leg is gone, and for a moment I think we’re in the hospital and I’m all stitched up, but the rain and blood tell me otherwise.


“I’m okay, Peeta. Don’t worry. The ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on. I love you, I love you so much.”

She knows it. I know it. I am dying. 

“I love you too.”


I sit on the edge of the hospital bed examining my brand new prosthetic. 

I despise this piece of metal.

Tears fill my eyes. My whole life is going to be completely different now. I will have to overcome this obstacle every day, and have to relearn how to do simple tasks.

Will Katniss still want to be with me? Will she look at me different when we have sex? Will she still want to have children with me?

And if we do have a child, will they be ashamed of their father because of his ugly robot leg?

An abundance of questions are swirling throughout my head, and I wish they would stop.

Katniss walks into the room wearing a small smile, her dark hair styled neatly in a side braid. “Ready to go home?”

Her smile fades immediately when she sees the tears in my eyes.

She rushes to my side. “Peeta, what’s wrong?" 

"How did our perfect life take such a dramatic turn for the worst?" 

"Peeta…it can still be perfect. My life will always be perfect as long as you’re in it.”

“How am I supposed to live with this thing? Why do you still want to be with me?” I say, gesturing towards my false leg.

“Peeta Mellark! Don’t you dare say that! I will always want to be with you. You know that. We’ll make this work, I promise you. I’ll do everything I can for you, and all your friends will do the same. It’s going to take some time getting used to but eventually everything will be good again." 

She’s crying now. 

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. "I’m so sorry, Katniss.”

She nods into my shoulder then pulls back. “Let’s go home.


We drive back to our house in Katniss’s car. It’s been three days since the crash, I’m desperate to get back into my home, and just be with my wife.

We’ve both taken two, well-deserved weeks off work, since Finnick insisted he would look after the restaurant. 

In just under forty minutes, we arrive at our house. We moved into this house last year, just after our honeymoon.

Downstairs, there’s a large kitchen, perfect for baking, a living room, study and small bathroom. 

Upstairs, there are five rooms. One for Katniss and I, one for my paints and artwork, a guest room, and two remaining empty rooms which will hopefully house our children in the future. 

Our room has a large en suite which Katniss and I often use for things other than just showering…well, probably not anymore.

Walking from the car to the door is a struggle, because it is difficult for me to walk with my prosthetic. Dr. Aurelius said it will take some time getting used to, and gave me some cream to use every night to ease the pain.

I shuffle to the living room and collapse onto the couch. Katniss follows, and sits beside me.

“You stay here and relax, and I’ll go make some dinner.” She leans up to kiss me, and I bring her closer, deepening the kiss. 

She wraps her arms around my waist, and I bring my lips to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind until I reach her lips once again. 

We stay like this, for what could’ve been hours. Time stands still when we’re together, and all my problems are momentarily forgotten.

When she pulls away, I grip her tighter, not ready for it to end.

"Let me go." 

"I can’t." 

She giggles softly against my lips, causing the blood to rush down to my lower half.

She kisses me once more then I watch her walk to the kitchen, my eyes trained on her beautiful body. 

It’s been three days since I’ve seen her naked, three days since we’ve been in bed together, three days since I’ve been inside her.

Three days is far too long.

I shift, uncomfortable, my pants becoming too tight, too quick. Fuck, that girl can get me fired up very quickly.

Slumber takes me soon after, my thoughts on nothing but Katniss.


"Peeta. Wake up, dinner’s ready” Katniss’s voice, whispers in my ear.

I stand up slowly, shaky with my new leg, but Katniss is there to hold and help me. 

I take notice of her appearance, her usually braided hair falls in waves over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a soft orange sundress, my favorite one. “You look beautiful, Katniss.”

She smiles shyly and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen. Her palms are unusually clammy, but I brush the thought off quickly, thinking she’s just been working hard in the kitchen. 

Our wooden table is covered in an expensive white tablecloth, which is only used for special occasions. Two silver covers, hide our food, candles light the table, and a large bouquet of flowers decorate the center. 

“Katniss, you didn’t have to do all this. Honestly, take-out would’ve been fine, as long as I got to share it with you.”

She smirks while she lifts the cover off her plate, and a chuckle escapes my lips. Chinese take-out.

“Bon appétit.” She says, smiling weakly.

The smell makes me weak at the knees, after a three-day diet of hospital food, I am definitely going to enjoy this.


After dinner, I let out a loud satisfied sigh. “This was wonderful, Katniss. Thank you. But you don’t have to spoil me just because of what happened.”

“It’s not just that…” She says, picking at her cuticles. She’s been distracted for the whole meal, playing with her food and hardly eating anything.

There’s something on her mind and she’s nervous. Something’s wrong.

“What is it, Katniss?”

Her hands go to her stomach. “Peeta, I have something to tell you.”

Asking Your Best Friend on a Date

Pairing: Natsu/Lucy

Rating: T

Prompt: “Aloof” given by yaushie thanks (:

EDIT: okay so I don’t know how in the world but I totally forgot what aloof meant and wrote this whole ficlet on my twisted definition of the word… I’ve no excuse. just… 

Natsu was gonna do it. He was finally gonna do it. Two years of being best friends with the blonde girl sitting at the guilds’ bar had prepared him for this moment and no amount of jokes cracked by that ice stripper was going to stop him. Natsu Dragneel, nineteen year old Natsu Dragneel, was going to ask Lucy Heartfilia on a date.

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