i find myself intelligent

DAY 3425(i)

Jalsa, Mumbai                  Aug 13,  2017               Sun 11:12 PM 

The love of all .. the grace of their presence .. the affectionate gifting, the cheer of sight, the clamour of personal pictures of the selfie kind, the smiles on the face, the hugs of presence .. and the नमस्कार  …

 .. bring life to an otherwise stale and aged body .. one that has been now burdened by life and its endless challenges .. 

… the grey and the white is now symbolic of walking away from it all .. a definiteness that is to be realised not just by the individual but by all .. 

 … the uncertainties of life that one sees in everyday KBC, in everyday tales of struggle and trial .. the emotion of those that live a life unknown to most of us … a life that hinges only on hope and chance .. a moment in their otherwise morose living, to be able in this one stroke of opportunity to jump out with glee and abandon those hard lined mishaps that may have pushed them into paucity and want .. 

… some show their despair with the laughter of fate .. some choke with the intent of expressing their condition .. but unable to bring words to mouth .. the tears that fill their vision - the only indicator of the anguish and pain of want and abject poverty .. 

it is impossible to remain conditioned and still .. words and expressions seem so inadequate and worthless .. evaluating their condition with that of ours is the obvious term .. but for how long and for what .. and what after .. ?

…. and as you ponder the ills of life and fate .. the cheers of them that assemble at the doors awakens in you the spirit of return .. to come out .. to acknowledge, to wave that smile among the many that gather .. and the wonder .. why .. why it happens .. 

.. a contestant on the Hot Seat the other day just laughed and smiled throughout the investigation .. giving replies and moving up .. when asked why the mirth .. his simplistic response, made you laugh even more, but was worthy a ponder ..

… he said ..

” I laugh because .. I just called the registration numbers of KBC and among the crores and millions of calls that come and go through, I cannot imagine why my number should be chosen .. I cannot understand why I am finding myself among the chosen 10 at the FFF condition .. I am not that intelligent and I am stunned to find myself the first guy of this FFF lot to be picked through the result on the Hot Seat .. and I cannot understand how I am able to answer even one question correctly ..”

And I wonder if I would ever be able to adapt and imbibe the simplicity of the human in my sight .. that truly is worth the millions that the show promises ..

But this is sublime  … this wealth of love .. this is the solar stroke from the heavens ..

the lens can distort in artistic forms the presence of love .. it cannot replace the reality and the affection ..

each raised hand of reciprocation is a raised hand of deliverance for me .. for this I shall reserve and respect and give credence to .. 

the eyes betray .. the smile enlivens .. there is more than what is expressed .. inside ..

Amitabh Bachchan

Birthday Ef .. Kishore Bhatt .. love and wishes from us all for the 14th of August

The signs best quality

Aries- the biggest brightest mind & can make you feel so special and so loved.

Taurus- always stands up for you even when your not around

Gemini- so emotionally strong. They could litterally be dying inside and you wouldn’t be able to tell.

Cancer- beautiful so/ extremely hardworking

Leo- always pushes their friends to strive for bigger and better .

Virgo- although you don’t want to hear it they will always give you a huge dose of reality when you need it.

Libra- their presence is so calming.

Scorpio- can make you feel 100 times better about yourself

Sagittarius- this is my sign. And I can’t find anything good about myself.

Capricorn- so intelligent and always sharing knowledge

Aquarius- so generous to their friends & family

Pieces - amazing personality / beautiful inside and out

pissy-infj  asked:

If you could feel one other emotion at the cost of losing one in return, which would you take and which would you get rid of?

“A very interesting question. One that I have of course considered for quite some time. Perhaps simply waiting for such a thing to be asked.”

Dark folded his hands in front of his face, curling his fingers together in either a pondering or prayer-like position, eyes gleaming with a calm demeanor despite the crackling and shadow that always seemed to loom behind him, every move that he made.

“As some may know, and others not, Antisepticeye tricked the Council into giving me the emotion of Love, in order to let me suffer and experience the pain that he himself had experienced. Over time, I accepted the emotion, but it has always been there, haunting me and directing me away from the duties that I would normally perform without fail. It is a nuisance and meaningless to me, and therefore, I would immediately hand over Love at my first opportunity. In return, I would desire the emotion of Knowledge, to reach understandings of the world and myself that would not be reachable the way I am now. With the inclusions of other things, anger and greed and whatnot, I could find myself perhaps even becoming more intelligent than Google.”

Reissued ‘Party Of One’ Captures Nick Lowe At His Witty, Melodic Best

Six albums the British songwriter recorded between 1982 and 1990 are being reissued in remastered versions. Critic Ken Tucker singles out Party of One as being among Lowe’s finest works:

“For many years, I drove up to Maine in the summer, a 12-hour ride for which I had accumulated a choice selection of albums on cassette tape to make the journey more jaunty. By the time we got to Maine, my daughters were singing the refrains of Party of One songs like “All Men Are Liars” and “Honeygun,” whose lewd organizing metaphor I was never called upon to explain, thank goodness. This is a testament to Nick Lowe’s ability as a writer of catchy hooks. But now, years later, I sit more calmly, alone in a chair, and listen to Party of One and I find myself marveling anew at the emotional directness and bristling intelligence underpinning this superbly enjoyable music.”

Close Interactions

pairing: T’Challa x reader

requested: yes, by @supremethunda

summary: “How about the reader is working with Shuri as an assistant when Shuri is designing new technology for their country and this allows T'Challa to get closer to the reader. Very close. Like she could be a graduate from a prestigious college & is studying abroad in Wakanda.”

rating: PG

chapter/one-shot: chapter 8

notes/warnings: fluff, cursing I think 

Originally posted by comicherald

Your name: submit What is this?

T’Challa had ended up taking you to a really nice restaurant. He sat across from you, sipping his wine as you looked through your menus.

You didn’t really answer his question from inside the limo. To be honest, you were scared. You were already having trouble with paparazzi and you were just working for them, imagine dating the King. Wild allegations and rumors awaited you.

Death threats awaited you.

Plus, the people of Wakanda probably won’t take it too kindly that their leader was dating a simple girl, from a country such as America.

“What’re thinking about over there, love?” T’Challa asks from across the table. His wine glass had been refilled and his menu was placed neatly on the table.

Keep reading

the difference between dave and dirk
  • both: *get access to technology where they can clone their own brains*
  • dirk: now i can begin my greatest, most ambitious project yet; it will be a triumph of science and philosophy, ground breaking in exploring both the arenas of artificial intelligence and my own highly complex sense of identity. i will find and understand myself; i will create intelligent 'life', and this ironic supercomputer will be the only companion who i can finally share my great essays and intellectual debates with
  • dave: *makes sbahjifier* lol anyways
My next chapter

Today I’m excited to announce that I’ve joined Google.

When meeting with current and former Googlers, I continually find myself drawn to their intelligence, passion, and enthusiasm — as well as a universal desire to share it with others. I’m also impressed by Google’s commitment to enabling these same talented people to tackle some of the world’s most interesting and important problems.

I can’t wait to contribute my own experience from a dozen years of building online communities, and to begin the next chapter of my career at such an incredible company.

Dear @kleine-asbar,

Most impressed… Well, I think all of them are pretty amazing people, so it would be hard to choose. But I find their leader to be quite impressive. He stays calm even in dire situations and is versatile, as a good leader should be… I like his sense humor too.

Yeah… That Makoto is sure something. It’s pretty awesome with how much ease he handles his Persona… 

Keep reading

Stereotypes About INTJs

We’re Bitterly Sarcastic All the Time

Not necessarily true. I’m only sarcastic 90% of the time. 

Truthfully, sarcasm comes naturally to me. It’s easier, and more amusing for me than simply saying giving a simple statement. For instance, during a final, a friend of mine asked how to divide 230 by 25%. I shot him a look. We were in college. Now, I could’ve texted:


But it was much more fun to say:

It’s not like we’ve learned fractions yet, us still being in kindergarten. 

As of late, I’ve realized other people find sarcasm annoying. It doesn’t particularly bother me. I think of it as a gentler alternative to calling someone an idiot, which isn’t socially acceptable either. But sometimes, you have to call someone out for asking a dumb question so they don’t waste your life with more dumb questions if they’re an adult (children excluded). I think LMGTFY was invented for the INTJ who’s probably been used as the personal database for far too many of their classmates in an effort to be nice. The ISTJ is another type who, I’ve noticed, is pretty astute with sarcasm. Severus Snape is a prime example. Low Fi and high Te are why we’re so outspoken and not quite aware of how it effects others. Condescending comments however, piss me off, particularly when you’re trying (or not) to belittle me. Condescension /=/ Sarcasm. 

We Don’t Have Emotions

Oh, but we do. And they’re probably tied to jealousy, feeling left out, feeling ignored, or being (once again) condescended to. We take our competency very seriously. If you’re ignoring us in favor of someone we consider inferior (again, not a tasteful word, but that’s what it feels like in the moment), we’re probably pissed. If you forget something we consider rather important, our opinion of you is going to go down.

Keep reading

Kiss Me? - Austin Carlile and Jeremy McKinnon

Hi (: can you do an imagine with Austin Carlile and Jeremy McKinnon where their bands are touring together and you go with them. They both like you but you don’t know, so they have this secret agreement and said that they were going to compete and see who you would prefer but they cannot hog you until you decide. You can choose the ending. Thanks and sorry for my bad English love!

English was fine c: hope you like it, I know it’s not the best I’ve written but oh well… And more people voted for Austin to ‘win’ so.. (sorry anyone that wanted Jeremy)..

Austin POV

“She totally has a thing for me.” Jeremy brags. “You wish, obviously she likes me.” I grin. We’re talking about Y/N, one of the merch girls who’s been working for both of our bands. My band, Of Mice & Men, is touring with Jeremy’s: A Day To Remember. Me and Jeremy are good friends, so this tour has turned out pretty good so far. Except for the fact we’re both crushing on the same girl, it’s kind of a disaster. “See no, no girl would choose a dick like you.” Jeremy jokes. “Well, she would.” I smile. She’s been selling merchandise for my band for a while, and we’re fairly close friends. “Just cause she’s gone on a couple of dates with you doesn’t mean she has a thing for you.” I roll my eyes. “Er, obviously does.” He answers. “Did she kiss you?” I ask, knowing the answer. “No.” He mumbles. “Exactly. She likes me, face it.” We’re in silence for a few moments, before Jeremy suggests something.

"Okay. I have an idea to settle all of this.” He grins as if he’s planning something mischievous. “Competition. Between me and you.” I cock an eyebrow. “Whoever Y/N kisses first, they can date her.” He smirks. “Pft, you sure you wanna do that? I’m going to win.” I say, big headed. “Duh, yes.” He half smiles, offering his hand. “Bring it on, McKinnon.” I slap my hand against his, then we burst into laughter.


Frustrated by the heat, I run my hand through my hair. The one problem about being a merch girl: the heat gets to you. I was preparing the stand for tonight’s concert; it’s bound to be popular, but it’s extremely hot. “Want me to get you a drink?” Austin Carlile, the lead singer of Of Mice & Men, appears out of nowhere. “Yeah, thank you.” I smile. Austin is a close friend of mine, but for some reason, he’s been awfully nice recently. “There you go, doll.” He hands over a bottle of water. “Thanks.” I smile and blush. “No need to get all bashful.” He squeezes my cheeks. “Get off.” I giggle, trying to brush him off. “You don’t want me to really.” He chuckles before letting go. Taking a sip, I say thank you once again before he wanders off and stands with Jeremy McKinnon, the lead singer of A Day To Remember, the band OM&M are touring with.

I admire Austin from the safe distance of my stand. He’s such a great guy, I’m almost sure he’s perfect in every aspect imaginable. He’s funny, caring, intelligent, talented… Not to mention he’s gorgeous. I find myself resting on my hand staring at him as he chats away to Jeremy. I quickly snap myself out of it as Austin turns my way. Waving his hand, I wave back sheepishly, probably blushing. His eyes divert from me back to Jeremy, then back to me. He licks over his teeth and smirks before turning away again, leaving me smiling dreamingly to myself.

Before I know it, Jeremy’s standing in front of me. “Hey.” I smile warmly at him. “Y/N,” He states. “Would you want to go out again tonight? After the show, you know, maybe go and chill at a quiet place?” He suggests. “I’d love to.” I nod my head. “Good, we’ll talk later.” He clicks his tongue before walking off again. Jeremy has become a close friend from this tour too, man he is the funniest guy you’ll ever meet. We’ve gone out on a few dates together during this tour - nothing serious has happened though.

Sometimes I find myself torn between who I like more out of Jeremy and Austin; Jeremy has the best personality and is an amazing man, yet Austin seems to be irresistible all over. I can’t say that I haven’t imagined what it would be like dating either of them, that would be a huge lie. I day dream about it, all the time.

Later On That Day

Luckily, the heat has died down as the day has got longer, making it more bearable. However, something odd has been going on today. Austin and Jeremy, moreover Austin, have been hanging around me practically all day. Austin has been offering to get me drinks and things to eat, he’s been incredibly kind. Again, which is kinda weird. He’s even had rare moments where he’s picked me up and swirled me in the air, or given me piggy backs. So, it’s weird, but a good weird. Jeremy has been organising what we’d be doing tonight. As the rest of his band were going out, he suggested we could just hang and watch a movie in his tour bus. I agreed looking forward to it, I loved spending time with him.

That Night

Finishing, the films credits flash up on the screen. Dozily, I sit up from laying on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Did you like it?” He asks. I think back to the film, Law Abiding Citizens. “Of course I liked it, it had Gerard Butler in it.” I half smile then swipe my hair out of my face. “He’s about twice your age.” He rolls his eyes sarcastically. “You’re like twice my age, and I still go on dates with you, you old man.” I tease as I stand up. “Y/N, I’m three years older than you.” He mutters, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, sure you are.” I squint my eyes questionably with a hint of sarcasm. “Yes, I am.” He heaves himself up from the chair. “Just, shut up.” I giggle, losing the will to argue pointlessly. “Make me.” He grins, standing wearily close to me. Curving his arms around my waist, he presses my body against his. That escalated quickly. For some reason, I feel a sense of tension between us, and a sudden urge to kiss him. “I don’t know what you mean.” I say, trying to click myself out the trance. “Mhm, I’m pretty sure you do.” He tilts his head and smiles. Something about his tone of voice seems so tempting…

Leaning down, I feel Jeremy’s face approaching mine. I’m frozen; I don’t know how to react. My lips feel Jeremy’s faint breaths, and I swear my heart stops. Just at the time Jeremy is about to kiss me, a huge voice hollers from the door way.

“Hold up! That’s against the rules!” Austin appears from the floor. Startlingly, I jump away from Jeremy. “Why the fuck were you crouching on the god damn floor? How long had you been there?” Jeremy asks him, folding his arms, not seeming surprised. “Uh, all night actually…” Austin sniggers as if it’s funny. “What were you doing?” Jeremy frowns. “Watching you two, to make sure you didn’t do anything wrong.” Austin replies as if he hasn’t just done the weirdest thing imaginable. I look at him in astonishment, what the hell is going on? “But yeah, man, that is so against the rules.” He becomes more serious. “What rules? There was no rules.” Jeremy turns to him, looking impatient. “Rules?” I repeat, looking at them both confused.

Being ignored, they continue their little talk. “You said who Y/N kisses first.” Austin sucks his cheeks in looking at Jeremy. “What?” I mutter, not sounding amused at all. The hell have these idiots been planning? Austin delivers a side smirk and waits for Jeremy to answer. “She was about to, and you sabotaged it.” Jeremy raises his voice. I can tell the argument isn’t serious, yet still has some significance. “No, you were about to kiss her.” Austin rolls his eyes as if it’s obvious.

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” I demand. Hopelessly, Austin shrugs with a smile. So I turn to Jeremy. He gives Austin a bewildered look. “Go on, tell her.” Austin says. Hesitating, Jeremy shrugs his shoulders. “Me, and Austin…” He breaks off. For a moment, I could’ve sworn he was about to admit they were gay. “We’re having a… Competition.” He makes odd gestures with his hands. “What sort of competition?” I ask wearily. “Who, whoever…” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Whoever kisses you first… Gets to have you…” He mutters the words hesitantly.

I blink, wondering if they’re serious. “Are you kidding me?” I say, staring at the two blankly. “No…” Jeremy’s voice becomes higher as if he’s trying to sound harmless. “A game? You guys are playing a stupid, pathetic little game?” My tone becomes pissed off as my irritation grows. “Not a game, but…” Jeremy shrugs. “And the winner gets to have me?” I yell. “You will never, ever fucking have me. Treating me like I’m some sort of object that you can win in an idiotic competition.” I almost spit the words. I look at them both in disgust. I take back every nice word I’ve ever said. “God, you’re both such immature little boys!” I stammer, pushing past Jeremy heading to the door.

“Oh, come on Y/N, it was just a little fun.” Jeremy says shrugging with a grin on his face. “Fun is not the word I would use. Now get that stupid smirk off your stupid little face and go fuck off and find a girl who likes to be toyed with by some incompetent fools.” I humph. “Fine, fuck off out of my bus then.” He mutters impatiently. “Gladly.” I hiss, before turning around and crashing into Austin. “Get out of my way!” I yell at him, shoving him with all my strength then thundering out of ADTR’s tour bus.

I can’t believe their immaturity, treating me like I’m some thing they can play with. All this time I thought they were decent men - ha. Turns out they’re just boys who can’t control themselves from acting seven. I shake my head to myself. I really thought they were better than that - especially Austin. But no, clearly not, every guy must be some asshole who just wants to show off their girl like a prize.

Soon enough, I stop myself to calm down. I’ve wandered clear from the tour buses to a huge oak tree on the edge of their parking field. My thoughts are like thunder, roaring inside my head. I still can’t believe it. But I press my back to the tree and slide down, pulling my knees to my chest. Resting my head against the tree, I close my eyes and let the calmness of the quiet night settle in. I listen to the wind howl as it flows over the trees, the leaves rustle harmlessly. My breathing softens. I hear the clicks on the crickets hiding in the grass of the field.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I’m still dozily resting against the tree, eyes closed. My legs have now stretched out and my arms are flopping on the floor.

"Hello.” I hear a voice next to me. Immediately, my eyes widen and I launch my body across the floor sideways, only to be laughed at. “Austin.” I scowl at the man, cackling, against the tree. “You could’ve warned me you were there.” I mutter, trying to hide my embarrassment. “I said hello.” Austin grins hopefully. I shrug and try to cover my face; his smile is unbelievably contagious.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check up on you to see if you were alright. You seemed quite angry about what Jeremy said…” He quiets his tone. “Whatever.” I say, I’ve given up the will to be angry now. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, the whole competition thing, it wasn’t serious…” He says. I understand how awkward Austin must feel, he’s not the type of guy to take anything seriously. So he must feel strange right now trying to talk to me without bursting into laughter. “Don’t talk about it.” I say simply. “Y/N, don’t be like that. You’re right, we were just being immature boys,” I look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Yes, you were.” I growl. “But.” He widens his eyes, giving me the look to shut up. “In all honesty, it wasn’t just a game. And I mean that. McKinnon and I just got competitive, and I know it’s silly and we shouldn’t of tried to settle it like that, we both should’ve just asked you.” He looks at me sympathetically, his back is now against the same tree next to me.

"Asked me what?” I ask, frowning at him. Awkwardly, he rubs the back of his neck.“Me and McKinnon, right?” He nods his head. “You and Jeremy… Yes?” I say impatiently. “We both like you.” He says, seeming to lift a weight off of his shoulders. “You like me? Wow, and this whole time I thought you guys hated me on tour.” I say sarcastically with a smile and shove him. “Now seriously, tell me.” I add with a pleading look in my eyes. “I’m being serious, Y/N. Me and McKinnon both like you. Like like you.” He turns from staring out into the field to look at me. “You… like me?” I ask, not helping but sounding confused. Hopelessly, Austin nods his head with a smile. My heart stops.

"At least, I like you like that. I’m not sure if McKinnon really does, or whether he decided he did after he found out I had feelings for you.” He half smiles. “Austin, I-” He interrupts me. “No, don’t go saying how stupid we were, I know we was. We should’ve just asked and prevented this whole argument from happening.” He shrugs against the tree. “I wasn’t going to say that,” I say. “But yes, you were stupid, really stupid.” I smile in his direction. “Shut up.” He says as we return smiles at each other.

"But what I was actually going to say was that, that I have feelings for you too.” I say bashfully. “You do?” He asks, looking down to me. “Haven’t I made it obvious yet?” I giggle. “Well, what about those dates you’ve had with McKinnon?” Austin frowns. “They were more like mate-dates.” I reply. “Mate-dates?” He repeats. “Yeah, you know, two friends hanging out. Not as in the couple type of going out.” I say. “Then why did you guys nearly kiss tonight?” He asks, I shrug. “I guess it was the heat of the moment.” I half smile, confused with myself. “It was the heat of the moment..” Austin begins to sing the song by Asia to me. “Shut up, you oaf.” I slap his shoulder playfully. “How about you make me.” He smirks with a wink. “Really? Same pick up line as Jeremy?” I raise my eyebrows. “I couldn’t think quick enough, okay?” He pretends to sound upset. “Mhm, okay.” I laugh it off.

"But Y/N?” He says as he shuffles closer to me. “Yes?” I say, subconscious of the closeness. “Kiss me?” He licks over his lips, grins with his teeth and tilts his head. Irresistible.

Softly, he cups my face with his warm hands and brings my head to his before eagerly pressing our lips together. His lips grip to my top lip as he motions his head towards mind. His hands trace down from my face to my waist as mine lock around his neck. Kissing me carefully, he pulls my body even closer to his and I slide onto his lap. His hands caress my waist gracefully, creating perfect movement between us. As I press his back against the tree, my hands fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

Our lips part. My forehead tilts onto his as he breathes gently over my lips. “Oh, Y/N.” He smiles as his fingers trace my jawline. “I love you.” He murmurs.


He’s here again, and for some reason I’m not nearly as surprised as I should be. I pull my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head and watch him by the ballet barre. His tall, lanky frame looks out of place. I’m used to seeing the five and six year olds I teach every Saturday morning occupy the space. I stifle my laughter, thinking about the last session he spent here. The owner, Martin, nearly lost all his patience with the surprisingly humble celebrity. Okay, so Harry wasn’t the best of dancers. But even after his disastrous first attempt, he’s back, ready for more.

I walk across the studio to the kitchenette to fill up my water bottle. As hard as I try to tear my eyes away, I can’t. They’re locked on Harry. Out of the corner of my vision I see Martin, hands buried in his face.

“Good morning, Martin,” I say. Wrong move.

“Ah, Miss Y/N, just the young lady I wanted to see.” His smile takes up the majority of his face. I know where this is going. “I have a very um…special dancer for you today.”

My heart flutters as my suspicions are confirmed. I stand there, speechless, trying to conjure up a good enough reason why I can’t teach Harry. I’m falling short. I already finished my training for the day and don’t have any classes to instruct. Time’s up. Harry’s already standing in front of me.

“Harry, Y/N. Y/N, Harry,” Martin says with a wave of his hand. Just like that, he leaves.

Harry extends his hand out and I tentatively shake it. Already I regret this. I’m attracted to him. I knew that from the first second I laid eyes on him. But now’s he looking right at me with his green eyes and I can’t do this. His handshake warmed my entire body and set off the alarms in my head.

I made a promise to myself a long time ago not to fall for anyone, let alone someone like Harry.

“I’ve been watching you,” Harry says. “You’re really quite good.”

Oh God. He’s been watching me. It must have been during the few moments when I wasn’t watching him. His compliment doesn’t flatter me the way it should. It only makes me even more hesitant. I want to tell him that I can’t teach him, that there’s probably someone more suitable at the studio. Except there’s not. Everyone’s busy Saturday mornings and I want to stay in Martin’s good books. I also can’t deny the fact that I want to teach him.

The moment I smile and tell him to follow me, I realize I’m about to break all my rules.

“So, what are you in for?” I ask Harry, secretly hoping it’s not something hot and intimate like the tango.

“Ballet,” he answers. That peaks my interest. My speciality. “I have a bit of a bad back. I’m just looking to stretch,” he explains.

I nod and begin to go through some exercises in my head. He’s looking at me expectantly as I mentally make up his workout. My cheeks flush under his gaze.

“Stand here,” I instruct, clearing my throat. He places his right hand on the barre. “Now, we’re going to lift our leg, up for two, out for two, extending it forward.” I do the motion as I speak.

I watch Harry try and cringe. Oh boy.

“Not quite,” I say. “The problem is that your knee is facing the wrong way.” I move him into the proper position. “Like…this.” My voice falters at the end. My hand is on his knee and I can hear my heart beat in my ear. He’s looking at me with a peaceful expression on his face and I zoom in on his lips. He lifts his hand and tucks a piece of hair that escaped from my bun behind my ear.

“You’re so little,” he teases, looking down at me.

I laugh. “It comes in handy when I dance.”

He nods. He’s still staring. I look away and break the spell. He’s ready to get back into it, he tells me.

An hour later, Harry’s crouched by the barre, his hands on his knees.

“You think you feel it now, just wait until tomorrow,” I tell him.

He laughs. I like the sound of his laugh. It’s deep and lighthearted at the same time. I don’t want to like the sound of his laugh. I frown.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” I say, turning away from Harry. He must nod, because I don’t hear him say anything.

“Y/N?” He says after a beat. “Thank you. You’re a great teacher.” I smile.

That stupid smile is still on my face after he hugs me goodbye. I gather my bag and throw on my jacket, pushing myself through the door and into the cool fall air. I walk to the bus stop located at the corner of the studio parking lot. I’m standing there for a few moments before a large black vehicle slows down in front of me. The window rolls down and Harry’s head pokes through.

“Need a ride?” He asks me. I shake my head despite being in desperate need of a lift. The bus isn’t coming for another ten minutes and I’m already freezing. “Come on, I insist.” Harry winks and my resolve crumbles.

I walk over to the passenger side of the Rover and open the door. Harry’s presence overwhelms the spacious vehicle. His woodsy scent is practically engrained in the seats. He looks so cool, so confident with his hand on the wheel and unlike in the studio, he has the upper hand here.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”

He shakes his head playfully. “Anything for my favourite teacher.”

It seems like I can’t stop blushing around this man. I ignore his compliment and give him my address. We fill the twenty minute drive with small talk and I find myself intrigued by Harry’s intelligent humour and kindness. He comes to a stop and I realize we’re in front of my house. His eyes linger over the red bricked town house with flowers on the porch.

“Cute,” he says. “I like it. Is anyone home?” He asks quietly, looking at me.

“No,” I say. “My mom won’t be home for another few hours.” Harry nods slowly, processing the fact that it’s only my mom and me. He doesn’t question it and I’m thankful. I wouldn’t have told him the truth anyways.

“Are you okay to be by yourself?” He’s concerned about me. Oh.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m used to it.” He frowns slightly, but I don’t want his pity. “Thanks for the ride,” I add quietly.

My fingers are around the door handle when he calls my name. I turn to look at him and suddenly his face is mere inches from my own. I’m not sure what’s happening but all I know is that I want it to happen. Even though I shouldn’t want it, I want his lips on mine. I want the space in between us to disappear. And it does.

Harry’s lips are warm on mine. They are much better dancers than the rest of him. His hands go to my hair, lightly pulling through my bun. He moans into my mouth and that’s when I stop this. All of it. Without another glance I exit his car and make my way up my steps. I’m not sure how long he’s out there for after I step inside, but it takes everything in me not to look through the front window.

He’s at the studio again the next week, but this time Cassandra is leading him through the steps. I sigh, feeling the sting in my chest of seeing her with him, even though she’s doing me a favour. I can feel his eyes on me and I pretend to be concentrating on the routine I can do in my sleep. I ignore him. It’s for the best, I tell myself. It was better I was the one to leave. Otherwise he would have. Just like my dad did.

I notice Harry packing up and readjust my hair.

“You’re crazy for not wanting that,” Cassandra whispers in my ear as she passes by. She doesn’t understand.

I’m alone in the hallway in the coat rack until Harry comes. I back against the wall, feeling somewhat trapped in the closed space.

His hand rubs the back of his neck. “I was going to say this earlier, but you weren’t my instructor today,” he starts off by saying. I don’t respond. “But I didn’t mean for my kiss to upset you last week. I was attracted to you and I thought you were attracted to me but I guess I was wrong.”

I close my eyes and inhale. “No, you weren’t wrong,” I admit.


“I wanted to kiss you just as much Harry. Heck, probably more than you wanted to kiss me—“

“Doubt it.”

I continued. “And I know this probably won’t make much sense to you, but I really liked kissing you. And that’s why I can never do it again.” I turn away from him.

I feel his hands on my shoulders as he walks towards me. “I don’t get it,” he barely whispers.

“You’ll leave,” I say. “You’ll find someone different, someone better, and you’ll leave.”

“Is this….do you think this because of who I am? Because of my reputation? I swear, Y/N…”

My heart sinks. He’s making this about him. It’s not about him.

“No, Harry. God, no. I know that’s what’ll happen because it’s what my dad did!” Tears prick my eyes. “He left. When I was ten years old, he left my mom and I.”

I turn and look and Harry. His expression is understanding and sympathetic but holds no pity. He doesn’t think any less of me. His hands rub my shoulders.

“Can I ask you something?” I nod, wiping my eyes. “If you knew, knew for a fact, that I’d never leave you or hurt you, would you want to try us, try this?”

His question is absurd. I can’t possibly know that, but I find myself nodding anyways. Because it’s the truth. He smiles.

“The annual Fall Carnival is tomorrow night. Be my date?” His eyes are shining and his dimples are popping.

I realize in that moment that it’s really hard to say no to the thing you want the most in the entire world.

Harry’s hand is on my back as I sit on the wooden fence. He’s rubbing soothing circles and I find myself at peace amongst the strangers and Halloween decorations. I smile at Harry and he leans down to kiss me.

“I swear, you’re so short I almost can’t believe it,” he says, smiling against my lips. I want to think of a comeback but he’s right. He stands almost a foot taller than I do. I roll my eyes playfully and look around the festival.

That’s when I see the little girl.

My eyes narrow as I try to place her. Her face is familiar in the weirdest way. Immediately I think of the dance classes I teach, but I know that’s not where she’s from. Something about her features, though, is familiar to me. She’s staring back now, her little face contorted into a confused expression. Much like my own.

“Pumpkin, what are you staring at?” Her father asks her, crouching beside her. I tense and let out a strangled sound. Harry’s head whips from me to the family in front of us, lost. But I know exactly what’s going on.

It’s me, I decide. The little girl looks like me. Well, technically she looks like her father. It’s funny, because I’m told I look like my father, too.

“Daddy?” I can’t stop from saying. I barely recognize my own voice. I’m vaguely aware of Harry’s frozen posture as I walk toward my father. Ten years is a long time, I realize. My father looks different. His hair is thinner, grayer, but he’s smiling. He looks both younger and older than the man I remember.

“Y/N?” He asks, all colour draining from his face.

I don’t respond. I don’t even nod. Instead I just stare and try to stand on my own two feet.

My father clears his throat. “Y/N, this is Claire. Claire, this is your big sister, Y/N.”

Claire looks at me with wide eyes. “Sister?”

My heart sinks. She doesn’t know me. I’ve never been mentioned to her. And had I not run into my father by chance, I probably would be a mystery to her for her entire life.

My feet crunch across the gravel as I run back to Harry’s car. I hear both my father and Harry calling after me, but only Harry’s footsteps.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest before I even have time to protest. “I want to go home,” I say.

Harry nods and unlocks the car. We’re silent for the entire drive, but Harry turns off the car in my driveway, indicating he wants to talk.

“What?” I ask him.

He sighs, looking me up and down. “It’s not a bad thing, you know,” he says slowly.

“What isn’t?” I ask, confused.

“You wanting to be with me,” he explains. “I saw the way you looked at me before you ran back there. You gave me the same exact look you gave your…that man.”

I hadn’t realized I did. But I don’t necessarily regret it. “Harry please, it’s for the best. I’m never going to love right. You deserve someone who will.”

Harry’s hand is stroking my cheek. “Can you try? Can you try for me? Because if you don’t, I’m never going to be able to love right. I don’t think I’m capable of loving anyone other than you, Y/N.”

My heart flips in my chest. It’s the least I can do. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll try.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE This one takes care of a few requests: Y/N is a ballet dancer, the song “Not a Bad Thing” and the fact that he thinks being short is cute. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! x

Why a chapter of WtM takes so ridiculously long to write:

I decide that Katniss is going to sing an adorable German children’s song to Peeta, but I’m an enormous nerd and therefore not happy with the immediately accessible English translations (remember when I found out Füchslein means “little vixen”?) so I put the lyrics word-by-word into Google Translate and tweak the English version, debating whether or not I care if it rhymes and if I should tweak it still more to fit Panem/Everlark/etc.

[And yes, I could ask for help from a German speaker on Tumblr, but this feels like one of those things I need to wrestle through on my own, like a tricky riddle or a word problem… :P]

Case in point: “Alle meine Täubchen…

Translation: “All my doves…” 
Me: (whose knowledge of German is limited to growing up Lutheran and singing some art songs and sacred choral pieces in college) Doesn’t “chen” as a suffix usually mean “little”?
*seeks second opinion*
Google Translate: Täubchen = pigeon
Me: Um, no.
*types “translate Täubchen” into the search bar*
Google Search Result: “And Hansel answered: “I’m saying goodbye to my little dove on the roof." 

Originally posted by 1980s-90sgifs

I gotta say, as much as I occasionally find myself seriously disagreeing with the president, I think he’s the most intelligent one we’ve had in my lifetime. I read his books, watched more of his major speeches than most folks I know, and heck, I’ve spent the night in his daddy’s hometown in Kenya. His story reminds me of mine. Single mom, living with the grandparents, grew up drawing Batman and Spider-Man for his classmates, tried not to turn into his father. I don’t have his job, and it’s easy for me to take pot-shots at his choices sometimes, but he tends to come out on top of a lot of his battles by playing a pragmatic long-game, which often *doesn’t* involve himself getting the credit. He’s not playing “the game,” he’s winning his. Again, I can relate. Also, it’s hard to understate how cool it is to have a president who has one side of his family tree dating back to the Revolutionary War, and on the other, is a first-generation American. That’s just boss as hell. Anyway. Little fandom moment. For all the things I wish he’d do or not do, or do faster, he’s been a pretty sharp president. I’m looking forward to reading the insider stuff after he’s out of office. You know, during Warren’s first term. ;)
—  Over on a pal’s Facebook wall, a few of us comics creators were chatting about the president, the old Birther arguments, and in the middle of it, I took a break from repeating the basic facts of the birth certificate issue (guys, he released it during the 2008 campaign. I have a copy of it), to articulate some of what I think about the man. I want him to be better, to do better, but I’d still pick him over any of the other folks who have had his job in the last three decades.
100 Drabble Challenge - Misplaced (Tom and Abby)

TITLE: Misplaced
AUTHOR:  theothercourse
GENRE: Romance/Fluff (I think…  I’m not really sure) - was going for Comedy
FIC SUMMARY: Tom’s girlfriend, Abigail’s reaction to seeing him as Caius Marcius Coriolanus at the Donmar Warehouse. (Part 2 to Violent)
RATING: Teen just to be safe
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Based on the characters from Upstaged, In His Kiss,In Her Arms, Who Loves You, Baby?, The Road to Something Better,Regarding Abigail, Tom/Abby One Shots, All Tom/Abigail in chronological order - Day 7 in the 100 Drabble Challenge - a silly little fluff piece…  I hope this worked


“Luke?” I blinked at my girlfriend, trying to find her train of thought. I consider myself an intelligent bloke, but sometimes Abby flabbergasted me, and had me second guessing that belief. Her thought process worked in a different way than my own.

She nodded confidently, playing with the collar of my jumper.

Trying to find the trail to her conclusion, I asked, “Luke who?”

“Luke Windsor, arse.” Abby looked at me as though I’d lost my head.

“My publicist Luke?” I tried again.

Rolling her eyes at me, she said obviously, “So you do know him?”

I tested carefully, “Because he was writing plays in his free time 400 years ago?”

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