having a snack

3

Related to this incident a few days ago where I was f-r-e-a-k-i-n-g o-u-t that I couldn’t sign in for two hours #dramallamas

I’m sorry, Seven, but imma still go for Juju so just wait. Your. TURN. B O I .

some things to do if you're sad

- watch your favorite movie/tv show
- drink some water
- have a healthy snack
- if you know why you’re sad, talk about it. please don’t bottle it up
- get in a cozy room that you feel safe in and read or take a nap
- go for a walk, especially if it’s pretty out
- write down your feelings. don’t think, just let the words spill out
- don’t, and i repeat, don’t listen to sad music
- think about good times you’ve had or good times you want to have in the future
- smile, even if it’s fake. even if it’s forced, smile.
- keep reminding yourself that sadness does not last forever, whatever your feeling will pass. tomorrow is a new day.

Due to frequent thievery in the manor, Tim has taken to protecting his secret snack stashes with dye packs. If any of his family members try to steal his food they instead end up with faces and hands covered in bright, luminescent, pink. 

I'm On My Knee

Hi babes! This is a marshmallow-soft story about the reader and Tom having a special inside joke. That inside joke being Tom dramatically falling down onto one knee to tease her after she accidentally tells him that it’s always been how she wants to get proposed to. The inside joke makes the both of them think a lot about their future and cuteness ensues! I hope that you like it!

Side note: The film was everything I wanted it to be and more? It owns my entire heart? The cast did so well and I’m so happy for all of them and my heart is just overflowing with love and I’m going to see the film again tomorrow!

I’m On My Knee

“He makes me want to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.” She murmured to her boyfriend, utterly and completely inebriated. “I want to learn how to cook so he can always come home to a hot meal. He makes me want to learn more so that I’ll always have new things to talk to him about, and he makes me want to take care of myself so that I can look good for him. I wanna read every book on the planet earth and watch every film, just so I have stories to tell him before we go to sleep. But, mostly, he makes me wanna wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.”

    Tom smiled, securing a strong arm around her waist before she had the opportunity to slip from the barstool she was trying to twirl on. Holding her still, he questioned, “anything else you want, darling?”

    Lurching forward, she twined her arms around his neck and moved to perch on his knee. She shoved her face into Tom’s neck and breathed in deeply, dragging her hands across the expanse of her boyfriend’s chest. He smelled of french cologne, the fabric of his shirt felt soft beneath her cheek, and she was so close to him that she could count the beats of his heart. “I love you.”

    Supporting her frame, Tom kissed the top of her head, “I love you more.” She sighed into his chest and Tom helped her to her feet, making sure that he still had her locked in his arms. “Let’s get you home now, drunky.”

“I want him on his knee like in the old films,” she added before she allowed Tom to guide her to their parked car.

    Truly, Tom felt the same way about her, but there was no way that he wouldn’t tease her about her intoxicated confession every chance he got. He’d been dreaming about how beautiful she’d look walking down the aisle to meet him since their third date and it comforted him that she seemed to feel the same way.

    She knew that she had majorly screwed up the next morning when Tom dropped down onto one knee, offering her a bottle of advil and a glass of water to soothe the pounding in her head that refused to be ignored.

    “On my knee, baby, just how you wanted!” Tom smiled, his curls flopping down in his eyes in the most endearing of ways. She hated that he looked so cute while he was so successfully embarrassing her.

    Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face, “Tom, stop! I told you that I was just drunk. Let it go!” She pleaded, blush spreading as far as the tips of her ears.

    Her boyfriend feigned hurt feelings, “well, if you were truly joking, guess I’m out of here. Gotta go get me a girl who’s in it for the long haul.” Tom joked as he moved to walk out the door.

    “Tom,” she whined before rushing forward to keep him in place with a hug. “Stop being so dumb and help me make pancakes. You flip them better than I do.”

    Smiling down at her, Tom took of her hands within his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “One day, I’ll be way more than just your boyfriend who flips pancakes better than you do. One day, I’ll be your husband who flips pancakes better than you do.” Tom laughed, picking her up to spin her around the kitchen.

    She was happy that Tom was focused on not dropping her or running into anything because she was even pinker than she’d thought previously possible and she was positive that the smile on her face was so huge that her face would crack into halves. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the greatest job, it didn’t matter that she was absolute shit at math, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything that mattered to her more than what Tom had just said. He was planning on a future with her and she was so elated that she spent the entire rest of her week floating from place to place on a bed made of cotton candy clouds.

    The next time Tom dropped to one knee for her, it was in the flower shop while she was sifting through bins of tulip bouquets for their friend’s dinner party. “Because I love you,” Tom said, holding out a bundle of daisies.

    Rolling her eyes, she took the flowers and bent forward to kiss Tom tenderly on the mouth. “Because I love you,” she repeated back to him before taking both bouquets to the register while Tom struggled to free his wallet before she could pay for her daisies.

    The time after that, Tom fell to one knee when she had come home with smudged mascara and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. Hurrying off the couch, he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulling her to perch softly onto his popped knee. “What’s the matter darling?”

    Shrugging her shoulders, her lower lip trembled and she merely hid her face in Tom’s neck.  Stroking her hair and mumbling the words to ‘Moon River’ into her ears, Tom waited for her to tell him what was upsetting her. He did his best to search his mind for anything he could’ve done, anything her friend’s could’ve done, anything at home that could have upset her and came back with nothing. Tom briefly had a fleeting feeling that he was failing as her husband until it clicked in his brain that he hadn’t ever gotten down on one knee before her to present her with an actual ring.

    That night, while she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her face hidden so close to his neck that Tom could feel her lips press into his skin, he looked up some photos of rings. Each time Tom found a particularly nice ring, he’d zoom in and envision it on her lovely hands. Looking down at her hand that was loosely curled around his waist, he murmured to her sleeping form, “nobody, not even the rain,has such small hands.” His girl had been on an E.E. Cummings kick and clearly the poetry she read aloud to him had rubbed off on Tom.

    Placing his phone back into it’s charging station on their nightable, Tom laid down and  made sure to lace his fingers through her own before he shut eyes to sleep, agreeing with E. E. Cummings  that nobody had such small hands. Such small hands that a glittering ring would only compliment.

    The next weekend, as she and Tom strolled through the supermarket to grab some fresh vegetables and fruit, and maybe a loaf of bread to go along with dinner, Tom spotted the baked goods aisle. Getting completely sidetracked, Tom stood staring at the pastries while she carried on in search of the produce section. Glancing at her retreating figure and then back at the deserts, Tom grabbed an armful of cookies, cinnamon rolls and cupcakes before hurrying after her.

    Her eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend nearly skipping towards her, arms overflowing with pastries. “Tom,” she started, cocking her hip and raising her brows, “that is ridiculous. Pick one thing, we already have too many snacks as it is!”

    “No, no, darling, you don’t get it. We’d leave the cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and we could eat the cookies as a snack, and then the cupcakes could be after dinner.” Tom tried to ration.

    “Tom, I’ll eat them all and then get bigger and you know I’m trying to look good this summer!” She whined, shaking her head and silently pleading for Tom to at least put one of the items he was holding back.

    Shuffling the food around in his arms, Tom attempted to clutch all the food with only one hand. Gently moving her hair away from her eyes, Tom kissed her temple. “Darling, you know that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with how you look, and nothing would be wrong with how you look even if you decided to inhale the entire pastry department on your own. I love the way you think, how kind you are to others, and you’re one of the smartest and least arrogant people that I know! I love you for your heart, and your brain. I thank the universe every night for your lungs and your kidneys, because they make you. You’re sweet-ass body just happens a perk of loving you.”

    Tom kissed her one last time before dropping down onto one knee before her, “c’mon angel, please?” He asked one last time.

    Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s cheesiness, she placed the cupcakes and the cinnamon rolls in her basket before leading Tom over to the fruit and asking him to pick out the crunchiest apples for their salad.

    When Tom fell to one knee again, it was after she had gone shopping with her friends and was currently modeling her new purchases at his request. She had exited the bathroom in which she was changing in, wearing an extremely short, white dress that left very little, if anything to Tom’s imagination. The dress was littered with small, red roses and had straps that were tied into a bow. As she twirled for him, Tom could see that the straps were the only thing holding her new dress together and by the time that she’d stopped her spinning, Tom was on one knee.

    “Should I take this off myself or do you wanna get up off the floor and help me?” She giggled, toying with the bow sitting atop her shoulder blade.

    As Tom carefully untied her dress and watched it fall to the ground, he muttered, “pretty ring would go nice with the roses.”

    She could barely hear what Tom had said, let alone comprehend it, as he began to pepper her exposed body with warm kisses. Stuttering out an barely audible, “uh-huh,” as Tom mouthed over the sensitive spot she had just beneath her ear.

    As time went on, “I’m on my knee,” became a phrase that she would hear from Tom almost as frequently as he said “I love you.” He’d drop to his knee in public, private, essentially everywhere they went. She was nearly convinced that Tom on his knee wouldn’t ever mean anything other than their inside joke, but little did she know how Tom feeling.

    Each time he dropped down onto one knee before her, it always made him long to obtain a ring to present her with. Considering that he was on his knee for her essentially everyday now, so much so that even the press was completely desensitized to photos of Tom on his knee before his girl, he was legitimately out and about looking for rings.

    He’d recruited his mother to assist with the search, begged Harrison, Jacob, his brothers, his father, and even her mother to help him with the search, but none of them could find a ring that Tom felt was worthy of her hands. Each time someone would send him a photo of a ring that left Tom dissatisfied, which was often, he’d simply send back the verse from ‘Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond,’ regarding the smallest of hands. At this point, nobody was sure what he meant. Once Harrison had tried to clarify what exactly the rain having tiny hands had to do with the ring search, but he came back describing a look of genuine craziness in his best mate’s eyes and decided to drop it.

    It was only after Tom had wandering into an antique shop with his mother that he found something perfect for her. The wedding ring was vintage and even came with an engagement ring, and after Tom had spent countless hours on the weekend thrifting and wandering in an out of hidden gem shops with his girl, he knew that she’d love it.

    Tom could only hide the ring for about a week. He was utter and complete shit at hiding things, especially from her, and the ring felt as if it was burning a hole through his pocket. He couldn’t wait to let the whole world know that she was going to his forever and he’d be hers for just as long. Tom just needed to create the perfect moment.

    Luckily for him, the perfect moment came the very next morning. Tom trailed behind her, kissing the back of her neck softly as she laughed and threaded her fingers up through his curls. They were deep within the poetry section of the most massive library Tom had ever seen and when she reached up to grab a novel, Tom felt as if the wind got knocked out of him. In her hands sat a copy of E. E. Cummings collected poems and while she sifted through the pages, Tom prayed inwardly to the universe for her to read the poem that he knew was destined to be hers.

    Not allowing her time to chose a poem, Tom dropped down to one knee while her back was still turned on him. Digging the ring out from the confines of his pocket, he could only get the last few lines of the poem out. “I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice in your eyes is deeper than all roses.”

    As Tom neared the end of the poem, she turned and opened her mouth to say the last verse with him. “Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.” She smiled, completely prepared to meet Tom’s eyes as she finally faced him.

    At first, the only thing her mind could register was that her boyfriend was on his knee, as always. It took her a second to take in the ring that glittered off of the library’s bright ceiling chandelier. Pressing a hand over her lips, she struggled to breath, her small hands gripping the open poetry book in her hands. “Do you mean it, Tom?” She questioned, her eyes flicking down to the ring he was presenting her with.

    His eyes were glassy in the light, and Tom smiled, “course I do, darling. I’m on my knee after all.”


How I Got Straight A’s 3 Terms in a Row

Some people just seem to breeze through school, never study and get all A’s all the time; I am NOT that student. I work just as hard as I need to to get the grades that I want. But the trick to getting the grades you want isn’t just about studying your brains out, it’s about studying and planning strategically.

  1. Prepare the summer before the school year starts. This doesn’t necessarily mean studying. Go online and search for the curriculum for each class you will be taking. In Canada, you will find this information on your province’s Ministry of Education website. The curriculum will tell you EXACTLY what you will be learning. Now you can use this information however you like. You can review last year’s material where you can see it will be helpful. You can make one online document per unit and find links/videos/diagrams online that will help you when you eventually learn that unit, this will give you a preview and now you have a online study guide to help you when you learn it in class. You can teach yourself the material and make in depth notes for yourself. 
  2. Always know your grade +/- 2%. You should always, always, always, know where you stand in all your classes. Some students are able to check their grades live online, I would recommend checking your grade after every assignment that gets handed back. If you do not have that option, I would suggest having a notebook (or a bullet journal!) with a page (or two) for each class. Record the name of the assignment, the date you submitted it and the grade you received back (as a percentage and a fraction). This is a great way to see how you are doing and where you are falling short. It is also helpful when you have finals, you can visually see where you struggled throughout the year. If report cards are coming out soon and you know you’re a couple points off, make the assignments for that class a priority.
  3. Prioritize. If you’re spending hours doing one minor assignment when you have a big test the next day, you need to reevaluate. Yes I know, smaller assignments are more fun because they’re super satisfying when you finish them, but you must prioritize your assignments. I rank my assignments according to how much it is worth, how well I know the subject, time it will take to complete and how close the deadline is.
  4. Study sessions and homework time. It has been scientifically proven that doing homework in this order is the best to prevent procrastination. Small assignment –> Larger assignment –> Break. Give yourself a time limit on the smaller assignment and your break time. Do not limit yourself on the larger assignment. Make sure your environment is well lit and you’ve chosen wisely whether or not to work in a quiet or loud place. Have water and snacks, try and save your snacks for during your break as an incentive.
  5. Do homework in the library at lunch. This might seem pretty lame to some people but if you can get some friends to join you, even if they’re not doing work, it can honestly be really fun. I find that when I get home from school, I’m usually exhausted and don’t even want to think about homework. If you do your homework while you’re already at school and in that mindset, trust me it makes its SO much easier to work.
  6. Grades aren’t what you want? Talk about it. Seriously talk to your teacher if your grades aren’t what you want them to be at. Some teachers will omit quiz marks or give you extra assignments. Sometimes if you really beg they’ll let you retest. Do not underestimate what your teachers will do. You don’t know unless you try! Plus teachers will see that you really do care about their class, which means they might mark you a little easier if they know your goal grade.

The cutest thing about Spider-Man Homecoming is Peter buying jelly sweets. So when he’s on patrol as Spidey, he’d have snacks. I literally smiled so much at the scene. I’ve never been so endeared at a kid superhero before. 

He’s so adorable. You’ll honestly love Peter Parker as much as Spider-Man.

4

Old post in drafts. i JUST KEPT GOING WITH MORE SKetches

More Ageswap AU Mob Psycho 100 - captions on pics

Skyline {V}

Originally posted by hardyness

Warnings: none

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 3k

A/N: So I originally intended for this to be the last part of Skyline, but because things needed to be explained so much, the story is getting a bit longer than I anticipated.  For that reason, there will be a Skyline pt. 6!!  I almost wish there wasn’t, because I love the evenness and finality of five parts, but what can you do.  Special thanks to Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas, and for giving me feedback!!  Also, just a reminder, I do not have a tags list!!  I really hope you guys enjoy pt. 5!!!

{part I} {part II} {part III} {part IV}

You really had no idea how Spider-Man did it.  How could he walk around in his civilian life, bursting at the seams with the secret of his powers, and not tell anybody?  How could he stay up half the night roaming the streets of Queens and keeping them safe?  How did he balance his hero responsibilities with those of a typical teenager?  You were sure that, if the radioactive spider had bitten you, you would not have been able to handle it like Spider-Man did.

You felt the change immediately when you woke up the morning after your night with Spider-Man. After crossing all those lines that the two of you had so carefully left uncrossed for months, you had stayed up almost all night, just talking (and also kissing a little bit?  But really, could anyone blame you?  He was a super hero).  Once Spider-Man had left around four am, you had had less than two hours of sleep once your alarm rang at six.  And by the time you made it to school, you had felt like death warmed over. That day had been a groggy fog of trying to stay awake and coherent until school was over, and you were tucked away in your cozy bed.

Keep reading

OH YEAAAAA I can finally publicly talk about my big news! 

I was selected to be a cosplay judge at The International! such an honor, and I’m so excited! if you were there and saw what looked like a living dandelion, that was me. today was just goof off time,  but tomorrow I mean business!

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Tony and Steve find a kitten in the rain

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve found him.”

Tony sighed in relief, pausing mid-air as he signaled for JARVIS to trace Steve’s call. “Oh good. You’ve got the towels, right?”

“Check. Heater?”

“Check.”

Steve chuckled. “It’s probably bad that we have a contingency plan for this. I’ll see you in two.”

“One,” Tony corrected, before nosediving directly downward, heading for the park on the corner of the street beneath him.

The rain pattered insistently against the metal of his suit, but Tony didn’t really notice it. He’d faced Thor’s thunderstorms, after all; this was small fry, really. For others who didn’t own a mechanically-controlled thermal system, however, it was a different story.

He found Steve, waiting for him by the corner, hood up in the rain. “Nice evening for it,” Tony said dryly (ha), and Steve grinned wearily, kissing the faceplate in greeting. “I went last time. Your turn going first now.”

Tony glared at him, but the depth of it was lost due to the 2 inch metal faceplate. Eventually, he just nodded, flying forward around the corner until he came face to face with his intended target.


“How did you find me? Did you put a tracker in my suit or something?” Peter asked, shivering a little. His hair was plastered to his face from the rain and various other water he may or may not have been submerged in at some point in the night.

“I put everything in the suit. Including this heater,” Tony said, waving at JARVIS to tell him to activate the heating system that Peter had yet to work out for himself.

Peter shivered a little at the change in temperature, but then he smiled. “Whoah!”

Tony just sighed. “Kid- you gotta stop running off to fight crime all on your own. I gave you that suit to protect yourself, not go actively searching for danger. You scare the devil outta me and Steve every time you do this.”

Peter sighed, and looked down at his hands again. “I just want to help people, da- Tony,” he corrected, blushing an absolute crimson as he stumbled over the word.

Tony’s mouth fell open, and for the billionth time he thanked his lucky stars that no one could see behind that plate. Through the comm, Steve was chuckling, and Tony would have told him to go fuck himself with a blunt instrument if he hadn’t been aware that Peter was in the vicinity and would therefore hear the foul language-

Wait.

Fuck.

What? Tony was policing his own language? When the hell had that started?


Oh God. He was. He really was. Peter was right. He’d become a fucking dad. 


Whilst he continued his small existential panic in midair, Steve took the opportunity to step around the corner too; towels held aloft as he shook his head fondly in their direction. “Tony- breathe. Peter- towel down, and then get in the car. We’re taking you back to Aunt May, and you’re not going to complain once, understood?”

Peter hissed in annoyance, but hopped off the climbing frame sulkily all the same, accepting the towel from Steve and then wrapping it around his head. “Can we stop for a treat before I get there? Like ice-cream or something? I’m starving, and Aunt May will probably ground me for the rest of my life, so we can consider this a last supper sort of thing.”

Both Tony and Steve sighed in unison. “Fine. One ice-cream. Then Aunt May.”

Peter smiled, and pawed at them both with his soaking-wet gloved hands. “You’re the best!”

Steve looked smugly over at Tony, who just grimaced. “Damn frickin’ straight.”

tododeku; a not-so-surprising regular occurence in the class 1-A dormitory.

“Midoriya? What… are you doing?”

Midoriya brings a finger to his lips, making shushing sounds at Todoroki from where he’s crouched behind the large potted plant by the elevators. Todoroki’s not sure where those potted plants came from, but it does make the empty hallway feel more like a place to live and less like a government building, so. Playing along, Todoroki crouches beside Midoriya.

“I’m hiding,” whispers Midoriya. He glances around the plant. “From Kacchan.”

“Ah,” Todoroki says, unsurprised. “What’s he overreacting about this time?”

That tugs a smile out of Midoriya. “I wanted to get a drink from the kitchen, but I didn’t realize he was using it.”

“Bakugou can cook?”

“Oh, yes,” Midoriya nods, his curls bouncing in a very distracting manner. “Kacchan’s wanted to be the best in every class, including home ec. I think because everyone expected him to do worse in that class, so he tried even harder.”

“Makes sense.” 

Midoriya peers around the plant again, but no homicidal Bakugou appears. Yet. Todoroki wonders if he’s actually hearing muffled explosions coming from the stairwell leading to the common room or if Midoriya’s paranoia is getting to him, too. He flips over an idea for another few seconds. Then he turns to Midoriya.

“Do you want to come to my room? He probably won’t bother you there. And I have a mini-fridge, if you still want that drink.”

Midoriya widens his eyes at Todoroki. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. But if you don’t want to—”

“No! I mean I—Um, I’d like that. Thank you.” Midoriya scratches his right cheek, eyes sliding away.

Todoroki nods. “Come on.” 

They check once more to see if the coast is clear, and then slip into the elevator. Midoriya is asking if Todoroki really has a mini-fridge in his room, wouldn’t that ruin the Japanese-style aesthetic he has going for his room, well I guess you could have the fridge inside one of the wooden cupboards and it’s not like you have to stick to the old-fashioned style completely; Todoroki just lets him ramble on, content to stand should-to-shoulder next to him.