i just try to make sure okay

OKAY. LMAO. I haven’t made his bio yet, but I’M GETTING THERE. I just want to make sure I have an Inquisitor that looks somewhat like his fc. i probably gotta change the lips and the chin a bit, but so FAR I THINK HE LOOKS CLOSE ENOUGH. and maybe the hair. he has curly hair, but the tight curl mod isn’t what i’m looking for. BUT I MAY TRY IT AGAIN, cause the curly hair is precious.

lumieevee  asked:

I don't know if you answer asks, this is a sorta cry for help. My stepmother got me two lovebirds from an animal auction, and I don't know how to get them to bond to me without putting too much stress on them or me. Any tips?

Yes, I do answer asks. :) Okay, well, I think it depends on how friendly they are. If they’re very, very scared, you need to start slowly. Just stay beside the cage so that they can see you. Once they start to get more comfortable, try feeding them with your hand. Just remember to be patient. :)

Make sure to take them to an avian vet as soon as possible, just to check that they’re okay. Chirps from Sammy~

anonymous asked:

Hey I was wondering if you could explain how the ticket purchasing process will go? I got an email saying they'll send a code, but I'm worried that they sell out like last time. This is my first time actually having a chance to see one of them (I'm so glad it's the loml haha) and I'm just a bundle of nerves.

Okay so the presale begins at 10 AM today (in the timezone of the venue you’re trying for). You should receive your code about 2 hours before that, so make you have your code ready to use! Be sure to log into your Ticketmaster account ahead of time as well.

To be safe, I’d use a computer AND have the Ticketmaster app downloaded on your phone. You can actually type in your billing information now on your Ticketmaster account so you can snag those tickets right away or just have your card ready to use once you have the tickets selected.

DO NOT refresh the page when you’re waiting for tickets. It may take a few minutes for tickets to pop up, so sit tight and don’t give up so soon. If for some reason you don’t get tickets during the presale, the tickets will be up for sale to the general public on Friday September 22 10:00 am venue local time.

Lastly, don’t stress! If you have everything ready in advance, you should be fine!

Good luck!

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

All Dad Tips

#1 - Don’t forget to floss every day.

#2 - It’s never too early to invest in a personal IRA. 

#3 - Start building credit as soon as possible.

#4 - Stand up for yourself - don’t let anyone disrespect you. 

#5 - Everyone needs to know how to use power tools. 

#6 - Don’t trust anyone who likes their meat well done. 

#7 - LaserDisc is clearly the superior video format. 

#8 - Drink a full glass of water in the morning to help wake up. 

#9 - Don’t use metal utensils on nonstick frying pans.

#10 - If you’re parking uphill, be sure to turn your tires towards the street. 

#11 - It’s rude to ask people about their mysterious hand tattoos.

#12 - Moving pictures is hands down the best Rush album.

#13 - Buy quality, not quantity.

#14 - Shave with the grain.

#15 - You always have time for a beer with your buds.

#16 - Always use a coat of wax after a wash.

#17 - Nothing can beat reading in print.

#18 - Always carry a pocket knife.

#19 - Use your hips when throwing. 

#20 - Keep your word.

#21 - Eat a lot of broccoli.

#22 - Drinking too much water can cause water intoxication.

#23 - Take care of your health while you’re still young.

#24 - Always help a friend in need.

#25 - Drink plenty of water.

#26 - Exercise regularly and you’ll stay healthy! 

#27 - Don’t eat too close to your bedtime.

#28 - Always check the card reader at ATMs before you swipe. 

#29 - Medicine is not always the best medicine. 

#30 - Always bring a war chest. 

#31 - You’re young, you have your health, now is the time to take risks. 

#32 - You can’t beat the whammy bar. 

#33 - The solo from Kid Charlemagne is the greatest guitar solo ever recorded. 

#34 - Peter Weller actually has a PHD in history.

#35 - It’s called masking tape for a reason.

#36 - Trust no one. 

#37 - If you press the ignition too long you’ll just flood the engine. 

#38 - The extended cut is the only cut worth watching. 

#39 - They really stepped up the production value in Episode V. 

#40 - Managing debt is just part of being an adult. 

#41 - Run through the finish line. 

#42 - What you do, when you don’t have to, will determine where you’ll be when you can’t help it. 

#43 - When lifting weights, use proper form and a full range of motion. 

#44 - Gas is cheaper in the suburbs. 

#45 - Do what you love and the money will come. 

#46 - Do it once, do it right. 

#47 - Don’t skip the corners. 

#48 - Eat plenty of carbs the night before a big game.

#49 - If the police are driving behind you, don’t give them probable cause to pull you over.

#50 - Try to drive in a way where you never have to use your brakes.

#51 - You can save bookmarks directly to your desktop.

#52 - A bird in the hand is better than a bird in the eye. 

#53 - Pet every dog.

#54 - Have you ever read Rich Dad Poor Dad? 

#55 - Liquor before beef, you’re in the clear.

#56 - Go ask your mother.

#57 - If life gives you lemons, parsley, onions, and eggs… make a really nice omelet.

#58 - Practice makes permanent.

#59 - First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairiest chest.

#60 - Never give up, never remember.

#61 - That quirky lab assistant from NCIS just reminds me of you.

#62 - Whistle while you work.

#63 - Please remember to call us once in a while.

#64 - Get whatever job you want, just make sure it has health insurance.

#65 - Grow your own vegetables. It’s cheaper, I think.

#66 - It’s okay if you don’t come in first, just make sure you have health insurance.

#67 - Try to exercise regularly.

#68 - Sleep is important! Make sure you’re getting enough.

#69 - It’s okay to cry if you’re feeling sad.

#70 - Make sure to sweep under your tent so you don’t sleep on rocks.

#71 - Good tire pressure is essential to optimal mileage.

#72 - The only acceptable time and place for decaf coffee is never and in the trash.

#73 - When changing a tire, make sure to tighten the bolts in a starfish pattern.

#74 - Anyone who tells you that a drink isn’t manly has never known heartache.

#75 - Call someone if you’re thinking about them. They probably want to hear from you.

#76 - If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

#77 - Don’t smoke.

#78 - Try not to make assumptions about people.

#79 - Don’t trust gas station egg sandwiches.

#80 - Please don’t pirate games.

#81 - It’s better to be early than late.

#82 - Eat a balance meal every day that includes vegetable, fruit, and protein.

#83 - Minimize eating fried foods, candy, and sweets.

#84 - Treat people better than they treat you.

#85 - Be generous and kind to everyone.

#86 - Always try your best at everything.

#87 - Spend less money than you make. 

#88 - Pay your bills early. 

#89 - Look at situations positively. 

#90 - Always try to make others around you happy. 

#91 - Smile as often as you can, it will make others around you feel more comfortable.

#92 - You’re never too busy or important to be kind to others.

Presumably, if adult humans are weird, then human kids must be weird as well. But of course, since aliens probably wouldn’t interact with human children too much, there might not be much about them in the human guide.

Imagine a human leaving her kid with an alien friend because her SO is sick and none of her human crewmates are able to act as babysitter and she’s got an important meeting. So she goes to the meeting and the alien takes her kid to one of the rooms in the ship that acts as a sort of play area.

Then, when the human comes out of the meeting, she picks her phone up and sees that she has some missed calls…

1st call: “Hey, Katie, it’s me, Grit. I know you’re probably in the meeting by now and can’t answer your phone, but I was just wondering… Jackie’s been chasing the other kids a lot, is she hunting them? Is that part of the whole predatory instincts thing? They all seem to be having fun— at least I think so, they’re all making that weird noise you guys make— but I just thought I’d let you know. And, um, listen… she’s not going to try and eat the ones she catches, is she?”

2nd call: “Hi, Katie, Grit again— look, I know that you guys are descended from tree climbing mammals and so your offspring need climbing equipment to satisfy those instincts— but there’s no way she’s supposed to be that high, right? None of the other parents are doing anything and I can’t go up and get her down because my hooves can’t get a grip on the frame. She’s right on top and— NO!<incomprehensible noises that sound like a cross between the moo of a cow and the bray of a donkey>— okay, so she’s swinging from the bars. One of the other humans just explained that that’s normal. He’s offered me some coffee, but I said no because I’m pretty sure that stuff’s toxic. I’ll try not to call again unless there is an emergency.”

3rd call: “I’m so sorry, Jackie’s been injured. She tripped over and seems to have lost a layer of skin from her knee. She’s making these noises and there’s liquid coming from her eye sockets and I don’t know what to do! Please pick up! There’s blood and the coffee offering human keeps saying she should suck the blood out or something. Is that a thing? Does your species’ saliva have healing properties? Shoud I call a medic?! Please pick up!”

4th call: “Sorry for that last message. Jackie seems to be doing fine now. I don’t know how— she should be laid out for weeks after an injury like that! Please, for my sanity, can you get a human babysitter next time?”

Dad Tips from DD:ADDS
  • Dad Tip #1: Don't forget to floss everyday
  • Dad Tip #2: It's never too early to invest in a personal IRA
  • Dad Tip #3: Start building creidt as early as possible
  • Dad Tip #4: Stand up for yourself - don't let anyone disrespect you
  • Dad Tip #5: Everyone needs to know how to use power tools
  • Dad Tip #6: Don't trust anyone who likes their meat well done
  • Dad Tip #7: LaserDisc is clearly the superior video format
  • Dad Tip #8: Drink a full glass of water in the morning to help wake up
  • Dad Tip #9: Don't use metal utensils on nonstick frying pans
  • Dad Tip #10: If you're parking uphill, be sure to turn your tires toward the street
  • Dad Tip #11: It's rude to ask people about their mysterious hand tattoos
  • Dad Tip #12: Moving pictures is hands down the best Rush album
  • Dad Tip #13: Buy quality, not quantity
  • Dad Tip #14: Shave with the grain
  • Dad Tip #15: You always have time for a beer with your buds
  • Dad Tip #16: Always use a coat of wax after wash
  • Dad Tip #17: Nothing can beat reading in print.
  • Dad Tip #18: Always carry a pocket knife
  • Dad Tip #19: Use your hips when throwing
  • Dad Tip #20: Keep your word
  • Dad Tip #21: Eat a lot of broccoli
  • Dad Tip #22: Drinking too much water can cause water intoxication
  • Dad Tip #23: Take care of your health while you're still young
  • Dad Tip #24: Always help a friend in need.
  • Dad Tip #25: Drink plenty of water
  • Dad Tip #26: Exercise regularly and you'll stay healthy!
  • Dad Tip #27: Don't eat too close to your bedtime
  • Dad Tip #28: Always check the card reader at ATMs before you swipe
  • Dad Tip #29: Medicine is not always the best medicine
  • Dad Tip #30: Always bring a war chest
  • Dad Tip #31: You're young, you have your health, now is the time to take risks
  • Dad Tip #32: You can't beat the whammy bar
  • Dad Tip #33: The solo from Kid Charlemagne is the greatest guitar solo ever recorded
  • Dad Tip #34: Peter Weller actually has a PHD in history
  • Dad Tip #35: It's called masking tape for a reason
  • Dad Tip #36: Trust no one
  • Dad Tip #37: If you press the ignition too long you'll just flood the engine
  • Dad Tip #38: The extended cut is the only cut worth watching
  • Dad Tip #39: They really stepped up the production value for Episode V
  • Dad Tip #40: Managing debt is just part of being an adult
  • Dad Tip #41: Run through the finish line
  • Dad Tip #42: What you do, when you don't have to, will determine where you'll be when you can't help it
  • Dad Tip #43: When lifting weights, use proper form and a full range of motion
  • Dad Tip #44: Gas is cheaper in the suburbs
  • Dad Tip #45: Do what you love and the money will come
  • Dad Tip #46: Do it once, do it right
  • Dad Tip #47: Don't skip the corners
  • Dad Tip #48: Eat plenty of carbs the night before a big game
  • Dad Tip #49: If the police are driving behind you, don't give them probable cause to pull you over
  • Dad Tip #50: Try to drive in a way where you never have to use your brakes
  • Dad Tip #51: You can save bookmarks directly to your desktop
  • Dad Tip #52: A bird in the hand is better than a bird in the eye.
  • Dad Tip #53: Pet every dog.
  • Dad Tip #54: Have you ever read Rich Dad Poor Dad?
  • Dad Tip #55: Liquor beforee beef, you're in the clear
  • Dad Tip #56: Go ask your mother
  • Dad Tip #57: If life gives you lemons, parsley, onions, and eggs... make a really nice omelet
  • Dad Tip #58: Practice makes permanent.
  • Dad Tip #59: First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairiest chest
  • Dad Tip #60: Never give up, never remember
  • Dad Tip #61: That quirky lab assistant from NCIS just reminds me of you
  • Dad Tip #62: Whistle while you work
  • Dad Tip #63: Please remember to call us once in a while
  • Dad Tip #64: Get whatever job you want, just make sure it includes health insurance
  • Dad Tip #65: grow your own vegetables. It's cheaper, I think
  • Dad Tip #66: It's okay if you don't come in first, just make sure you have health insurance
  • Dad Tip #67: Try to exercise regularly
  • Dad Tip #68: Sleep is important! Make sure you're getting enough.
  • Dad Tip #69: It's okay to cry if you're sad
  • Dad Tip #70: Make sure to sweep under your tent so you don't sleep on rocks
  • Dad Tip #71: Good tire pressure is essential to optimal mileage
  • Dad Tip #72: The only acceptable time and place for decaf coffee is never and in the trash
  • Dad Tip #73: When changing a tire, make sure to tighten the bolts in a starfish pattern
  • Dad Tip #74: Anyone who tells you that a drink isn't manly has never known heartache
  • Dad Tip #75: Call someone if you're thinking about them. They probably want to hear from you.
  • Dad Tip #76: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all
  • Dad Tip #77: Don't smoke
  • Dad Tip #78: Try not to make assumptions about people
  • Dad Tip #79: Don't trust gas station egg sandwiches
  • Dad Tip #81: It's better to be early than latE
  • Dad Tip #82: Eat a balance meal everyday that includes vegetables, fruit and proteins
  • Dad Tip #83: Minimize eating fried foods, candy, and sweets
  • Dad Tip #84: Treat people better than they treat you
  • Dad Tip #85: Be generous and kind to everyone
  • Dad Tip #85: Be generous and kind to everyone
  • Dad Tip #86: Always try your best at everything
  • Dad Tip #87: Spend less money than you make
  • Dad Tip #88: Pay your bills early
  • Dad Tip #89: Look at situations positively
  • Dad Tip #90: Always try to make others around you happy
  • Dad Tip #91: Smile as often as you can, it will make others around you feel more comfortable
  • Dad Tip #92: You're never too busy or important to be kind to others

I went through a few looks, but liked this one the best. 

tips for high school freshman:

1. i know, i know. this is terrifying. you’re going to be dealing with many huge changes. but change is good. remember that.

2. try not to blend in. i know its easier but you wanna make some friends, right? you probably want to make good relationships with teachers too. stand out. be remembered in the best ways possible.

3. work hard. strive to be the best. stay up late studying, take notes, ask questions, stay after class, do whatever you can to achieve you’re goals. prove to yourself and everyone around you that you are capable of amazing things.

4. participate. speak your thoughts in group discussions. join clubs. play sports. don’t be afraid. you deserve to be noticed and listened to.

5. stay organized. use planners, label everything, color code, make files on your laptop, don’t keep unnecessary tabs open, and make sure you’re not a mess too.

6. try and make friends. i know how difficult its going to be but you’ll need them. talk to the people on your cross country team, talk to the art kids in first period, talk to the weird kid sitting next to you in assembly. just try and make friends. you need people, no matter how much it seems like you don’t. you will not be able to survive this alone.

7. study. make flashcards, copy notes, use quizlet, i dont care just study. your phone can wait an hour or two.

8. make sure your bag is fully stocked. y’know like extra change, deodorant, hand cream, pads, chapstick, etc. you never know what could happen.

9. its okay if you don’t talk to your old friends anymore. you’ll be okay. so will they. but if you ever find yourself needing to talk to someone, don’t hesitate to text them. they will listen.

10. take a warm shower every night. wash your hair twice a week. drink a glass of milk every morning and a glass of water every night. have a cup of tea while studying/doing homework. reward yourself with an episode of your favorite show. self care is important.

11. make sure to read and write daily. prioritize it.

12. don’t be afraid to express yourself. if your school has a strong arts program, use it. paint, sculpt, draw. find inspiration and create.

13. stay focused and don’t stray from your expectations.

14. find ways to stay motivated. decorate your desk, buy cute notebooks, imagine how far you’ll go by doing well in school.

15. mentally make a daily schedule to follow. repetition is comforting. while everything around you is changing faster than you can blink, take comfort in the fact that your morning routine stays the same.

16. school comes first, but try to make time for your friends. both old and new. you deserve to have some fun. but don’t feel bad if you’d rather stay home with a tub of ice-cream and a season of some netflix series.

17. there will be bad days. days when it seems like you can’t get out of bed. days when it seems like stress is the only thing you’re feeling. days when you just want to give up. but you have to fight through it. have a cup of tea. read that old book you love. watch some netflix. take a break. it’ll all be okay.

18. they’ll also be days when you miss your old life with every bone in your body. on these days, text your old friends. maybe schedule to hang out. or maybe look at old pictures and videos and reminece on all the fun times you had together. don’t feel sad for too long. many more joyous memories will be created.

19. time heals everything. when days are gloomy and your heart is a lil heavy, remember that there is nothing that the passage of time cannot fix.

20. try to finish all your homework before dark. open the windows. welcome the fresh air and let the sunlight motivate you.

21. spend time with your family. you only have so much time left with them before college, don’t waste it. put down your phone, and just enjoy their presence. 

22. relativity is everything. i know it seems like one thing is the end of the world, but take a moment to zoom out. you’ll realize that some things are not big as they seem.

23. be fearless. take big steps. this is your time.

—  throughout my freshman year i wrote tips down to help myself. i hope this helps others as well.
Meditation for the Wild-Minded Witch

do you have ADHD? are you easily distracted? do you daydream constantly abt everything and anything? when you hear the words “you might fall asleep” in a post abt meditation, do you sigh and roll your eyes?

if you answered “yes” to any of the above, then this is the post for you!!

as someone who has type one ADHD and a crazy imaginative mind, I haven’t seen a single Intro To Meditation post that pertains to me. they’re always abt tips for visualization, or tips for not falling asleep within 5 minutes. I have insomnia you guys, I ain’t gonna be asleep in any less than 2 hours smh

without further rambling, here’s some tips and tricks for people who just can’t fucking meditate

1) listen to some goddamn music. preferably stuff you’ve listened to many times before, songs you have basically memorized so you don’t get distracted by how unique this new sound is, or how cool that voice was right there. listen to your favorites!! listen to songs in foreign languages, so you aren’t focused on the words but more the feeling they give. blast that shit through your most comfortable earbuds, tune everything else out

2) don’t sit outside. trust me. too many extra sensory bits and shit that you just don’t need rn. miss me with that wind and bugs and prickly grass.

3) tired of the “visualize a door” method? visualize yourself dancing! find one good dance song that you’ll only use when trying to meditate, and choreograph your own little routine! imagine urself dancing outside on a chilly autumn day- the air smells crisp and the leaves crack and almost hurt beneath your feet and every once in a while your arms hit a twig or branch. imagine it’s spring and there’s cold dew on the soft new grass and the sun is making your bare arms tingly, a warm breeze tugs at your hair and clothes. get creative! the hardest part is imagining yourself *in* your body, looking out, instead of watching urself dance like it’s a movie.

4) sit in the car!! oh my god!! do this!! the passenger seat of the car opens a world of possibilities, and you probably won’t even have to close your eyes because damn, look at you, you’re already off daydreaming abt god knows what and completely ignoring everything around you!! if cars are good for anything, it’s daydreaming. now all you gotta do is figure out how to switch your daydreaming off and turn meditating on.

5) school age witch? meditate in the morning on the bus. if you trust the other kids riding with you enough, do it on the way home too (warning: may suddenly find urself interrupted by flying paper balls or gross laughing. this is why we meditate in the mornings when everyone’s half asleep still)

6) it’s okay if a stray thought drifts in every once in a while, so don’t get upset over it.

7) your leg bouncing? scalp itch? eye twitching? keep bouncing it! scratch your head! rub your eyes!! trying to ignore these things will take more effort than it will to just take care of them. make sure youre comfortable

8) extending on that point, if you find your overall position uncomfortable, just move dude. it’s okay, just cause you aren’t laying with ur arms at ur sides and legs perfectly straight doesn’t mean you won’t get some meaningful meditation in

I was hoping to get 10 points but I’m suddenly lacking motivation and getting bored with typing this. guess that’s the proof for you that I have ADHD? I hope these help! feel free to add on your own tips for meditation! and like always, don’t beat urself up if nothing seems to be helping. I’ve been trying for three years and I still struggle very much to meditate, and be confident that what I’m seeing isn’t just my Wild Wild imagination, and is instead the astral or whatever else I’m looking for. take your time, and good luck! ✨🌊🥀

Lockers - Peter Parker

request -  hey, welcome to tumblr ! great username XD i was wondering if you could do a scenario where the reader was in the elevator then as spiderman pulls her up, she recognizes his voice then the next day, she confronts peter in at school, in an empty classroom and says she knows who he is and then hugs him out of nowhere and so much fluff ugh. thank you and i wish you the best with the blog !

a/n - i went through many different plots/settings with this fic so it took a while but, writing this was really fun. it sort of become rly super duper long so i apologize for that LOL and hopefully the fluff isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

The elevator began to shake even more, dropping one more time before I felt as if our fate was waiting for us down at the bottom floor. The broken glass made it hard to stand up, but what was even worse was that I was the only one left in the doomed elevator.

“Grab onto my hand!” The officer shouted at me, extending his arm to be the best way he could. I tried to desperately to reach it, but I couldn’t. The mix of adrenaline and fear had struck my body to the max.

“Sir, I-I can’t.” I cried, my heart breaking even more. Just then, the elevator went down another foot, and I felt my back press up against the tarnished wall. All I could hear was the harsh beat of my heart and the yells for help from the people up top.

“(Y/N) please! Try again!” I heard Liz yell from above. The situation had become to surreal to me that I almost became numb to it, with what could happen in a matter of seconds not scaring me as much as it should be.

Before I could register anything else, the sound of glass breaking snapped me back into reality. But surprisingly, it wasn’t from the elevator.

Keep reading

Skyline {II}

Originally posted by over-et

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Guys!!! I’m seriously blown away at all the commotion and excitement around Skyline.  In the two days that I’ve posted it, I’ve had to turn off my notifications just because they were blowing up!! Thank you so much for all that you’ve done and, hopefully, will continue to do…as there will be a Skyline pt. 3 and possibly pt. 4!!  One quick thing I’d like to mention, however, is that I’ve gotten a lot of requests to tag people in my writing.  While I’m honoured that you guys want to know as soon as possible when I update, I’ve had so many people request to be on a tags list that I’ve just decided not to do one.  I don’t ever want to leave someone out or forget about someone, so I thought it’d be best to not have one at all.  I really hope this doesn’t affect you guys too much, but if you follow me, I usually give pretty regular updates on what’s going to be coming soon.  And, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!!

{part I}

It had taken a few weeks, but life after your meeting with Spider-Man had finally returned to normal. The groups of people hanging around your locker had broken up, the teachers stopped questioning you in front of class, and only three people asked if you had Spider-Man’s number when they wrote in your yearbook.  Despite the attention you had received, however, your school year had come to an uneventful close.  And although you were grateful the interrogations had stopped, you were less than overjoyed about the dullness your days had once again become coloured with.

Your time was filled with events in which variety was far and few.  You woke up at the same time, ate the same breakfast, took care of the same two year old next door, visited your same friends, and tried not to notice the slow ticking of the clock on the wall.  It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the time with your friends, or your favourite toddler; it was just that you felt…different.  Different in a way that you couldn’t explain, or even put into words.  Just different.

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

Fruits - Peter Parker

request -  hi! i was wondering if you could write something about a peter x fem!reader where she’s homeschooled and doesn’t have friends and then she meets peter and they become close ? thanks!! 

a/n - i changed the request up a bit, and made the reader tony’s daughter to give it an even more ‘fluffy’ feel to it and i think it failed horribly BUT thank you so much for 1k!!! i can’t even believe all the love i’m getting for these fics, it makes me so happy to know you guys like them :) don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

I sat at the dining table just across from the living room, headphones in as I watched a math lesson that was just uploaded onto my school’s website. It was just around 10 AM when my school day started, a bowl of freshly cut fruits on the table as I took notes in my small book, sometimes glancing around to see if something more entertaining was going on.

Being the kid of a billionaire had it’s perks, but some downsides to it as well. Sure, I was able to access anything through money, but I was stuck at home a good 99% of my life, hidden away from the public eye at the request of my father. I’ve never been able to go to school and have a ‘normal’ life, with my only friends being the middle aged people the world calls the Avengers.

I paused the lesson and took my headphones out, heading out to the kitchen counter to pour a cup of coffee for myself, only to hear the door opening.

Keep reading

For anyone who ever falls in love with her or is lucky enough to get into a relationship with her. But hopefully she’s mine till the day I die. But take some of these things on board. - From someone who is in love with her and has been for 3 years. And always will be.
She loves FaceTime calls, especially video calls she’ll probably like seeing you because I definitely like seeing her. And hearing her voice. Her voice is special, and perfect to me because it’s hers. I could listen to her talking all day. Even if she’s complaining. She absolutely hates slow replies and being ignored, so reply to her as quickly as you can. And if you go out or you’re busy, make sure you tell her. Don’t allow her to overthink, and worry about you. It’s bad for her. Listen to her. Especially when she talks about something that makes her happy or inspires her. Listen. Even if she talks for hours , listen. Have deep conversations with her, about anything. She loves that. Talk to her for hours until 4am and you’re both tired , but happy so it doesn’t matter. Talk about weird things , like I do. Reincarnating into a tiger and a dolphin, so when we both die we can be happy together. Yes that’s weird but it’s us, and I love that. I’m sure she does too. Make her feel wanted, she absolutely hates feeling unwanted. I can assure you she’s wanted. More than anything by me. Send her cute messages and paragraphs , anything to make her smile, it’s difficult to make that girl smile. So it’s extremely precious to me when I see her smile. Be patient with her, it takes time to understand her. Wait. Wait a long time, as long as you need to wait until she’s comfortable to tell you something, for example if she’s in a bad mood. Don’t pressure her to tell you, don’t assume things. Yes I do that because I’m insecure and I overthink. But don’t make assumptions. Wait until she’s ready, but reassure her, so she knows you care. Please be patient and she’ll open up to you, if she trusts you. And it’s very hard to gain her trust. Appreciate her. Everything about her, how beautiful she is from head to toe. Her soul, her heart , her mind. I mean everything. This girl is special. Real fucking special. When she’s insecure and gets jealous of other girls , remind her she’s the best. To me she’s the best anyway. I wouldn’t want anybody but her. Admire every single thing about her. Emphasis on admire. She’s perfect. My perfect dolphin, I’d call her. That’d make her smile. All our little weird conversations mean a lot to me, and all our memories. I love her smile though, she hates it. But out of all the thousands of smiles I’ve seen hers is the best. I honestly can’t put into words how beautiful she looks when she smiles. The way her eyes glisten, sparkling omg. She hates her eyes too, because they’re “ boring brown” but to me they’re far from boring. They’re the type of eyes I could look into all day long and not for a second be bored. Even sitting in silence with her is perfect. The vibes off her are the besttttt. It’s unexplainable tbh. Don’t use her, never do that, she’s been hurt way too many times before and doesn’t deserve any more pain. Her happiness means the world to me. And if she ever becomes yours, do your best to keep her happy. This girl is different from the rest, NO ONE is like her. I swear you’ll never come across someone as perfect, precious, beautiful, amazing, out of this world etc. (I could go on) like her. Sometimes I have to ask myself if I’m dreaming, because the amount of love she shoes and all she does for me is unbelievable. And if you can ever call her yours , you’ll be very blessed to have her. This girl has her guard up too, a huge wall you have to break down bit by bit, for a very long time. Until you know her. I don’t know her to the full extent but I know her better than anybody else. And I lover her more than anybody else has or ever will.
She loves being called babygirl, princess or wifey. Or in our special kinda way she’s my dolphin. Something like that will make her smile. Don’t call her “B” or “baby” or “ babe” she thinks it’s cringe, or “ year 7 relationships” she’d say. And don’t put like 100 heart emojis or weird emojis when you text her, just be normal. When she’s happy she’ll put a lot of emojis. Pay attention to them. They represent her mood. It’s pretty important to me.
She’s passionate about reading and she’s soooo fucking good at writing. Anything. Literally. She’s the most intelligent, smart , brainy ( whatever you wanna call it ) girl I’ve met. No exaggeration at all. She absolutely loves getting new stationary, fine liners , coloured felts, glue, sticky notes, sexy note pads. You name it. And if she loves you she’ll spend hours and hours creating things for you. She’ll write you books if she’s 100% in love with you ( I’m lucky asf to get that ) even make a canvas of photos together. She will do a HELL of a lot. So appreciate that. If she’s ever yours. I appreciate her and I’m so thankful for every single thing she does.
She loves bright colourful sunsets ( purples and pinks , blues ) she likes it when they start to go dark though right at the end of them. She would spend ages taking photos of the sky , until it’s “ right ”. Sunsets are another thing that make her happy. Her happiness is key, remember that. And I hope In the future, me and her can sit and watch sunsets together. But if she becomes yours, please sit and admire the sky with her. Do anything you can to make her happy. She deserves happiness. And more. She loves romantic movies, tbh they’re her favourite, and horror movies. Lying in bed and watching a movie she’ll like, will make her happy. Some days she will push you away, and she’ll get angry at you for little things, but you need to understand that, that’s her. But try and stay, reassure her. Tell her how much she means to you, she loves when I do that. She will just stay in bed some days , not move at all, cry and hate herself. Those are the difficult days, don’t leave on those days. Do whatever you can to make sure she’s okay. Remind her that everything will be okay , the bad thoughts will go away. They don’t last forever. Better things will come.
She gets jealous too, very easily , if she loves you. Focus on her and nobody else, don’t ever take her for granted. Ever. And she doesn’t like going out, in crowded places , so don’t pressure her to go out. Whenever she’s ready you’ll know. She’ll prefer being indoors as long as she’s in the presence of someone she loves. That’d make her day, she’d say to me. There are a thousand of other things I could say, but hopefully this gives a decent idea. If you’re ever lucky enough to call her yours , protect her, love her, appreciate her etc. Take all of this into consideration. There’s much more but this is what comes to mind right now. But hopefully nobody else will ever have her and she’ll be mine until forever ends. If one of us die. But I will always love her no matter what. Regardless of anything, literally anything. I promise that.
—  for my wife.
home sweet home; andreil
  • I can’t help but think a lot about Neil and Andrew just doing domestic, mundane, couple things.
  • Neil and Andrew at the grocery store. Neil noticing Andrew’s stocking up on all the sugary foods and beverages he can get his hands on, so he wanders off to the veggies and health food aisles to make sure Andrew balances his diet. “No more ice cream breakfasts, okay?” Neil says, when Andrew just shoots him a blank stare, Neil shrugs. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to keep your inevitable risk of diabetes at bay.” Andrew barely blinks. “You’re diabetes,” he mumbles. At this, Neil breaks into a small, slightly teasing smile, “Besides, I want you to cook for me.” “And I want you to shut up,” Andrew replies, dryly. “I guess neither of us are going to get what we want.” Despite this, slowly, steadily, Andrew does start improving his eating habits, and when he realizes that Neil is a disaster with an electric lighter after he almost burns down their kitchen twice, Andrew begins cooking for him on the regular. Neil always ends up staring at him while he cooks, and Andrew pretends like it doesn’t affect him, like it doesn’t make him hyperaware of his every move. Bee suggests new recipes to him every weekend, and Andrew begins to cook so surprisingly often that Neil would never dare say it aloud, but he swears that Andrew might actually be enjoying it.
  • Neil gives Andrew a shoulder massage on the really bad days and distracts his mind with talks of the latest additions to the Fox lineup and how he thinks they need to up their game if they want to succeed. This is new. This feels new. Andrew is not used to this sort of thing and has trouble at first, tensing up against Neil’s touch almost immediately, and so Neil knows to be extra careful. This is alien territory for both of them because Neil has never known how to be gentle and Andrew has never known gentleness, but it turns out that Neil’s really good with his hands. Eventually, Andrew leans his head back against Neil’s stomach as he kneads the tension out of his muscles and just lets go. It’s difficult at first, because the last time Andrew allowed himself to be this defenseless, this bodily loose and relaxed… No. This was different. This was Neil. Neil would cross himself out a thousand times over at even the mere idea of hurting him. He was okay. He was… He was safe. After giving him a massage, Neil leans in to kiss Andrew’s neck, but before he has the chance, Andrew’s already flipped him over and straddling him, “Yes or no?” he mumbles gruffly, but Neil’s already choking out a hoarse, breathless fuck yes as Andrew runs his hands up his arms and entwines their fingers before entrapping him under his body with a vehement, sealing kiss that leaves them both gasping for breath. 
  • Andrew falling ill with the flu and insisting that he doesn’t get sick, even as he’s coughing up his lungs and running a high fever. Neil doesn’t buy into his bullshit for one second and insists on dragging him to the doctor’s office. That’s when Andrew quietly admits his loathing of doctors, stemming from a general distrust of society and never having been to one before. Whenever he got sick before, he would just take care of it on his own. And then he had Abby. Neil insists that despite Abby’s qualifications, Andrew needed to go see a real doctor. Neil successfully wears him down and they end up visiting the doctor together. In the waiting room, Andrew is crushing Neil’s hand so tight Neil knows it’s going to leave a bruise. Neil doesn’t care. He managed to convince Andrew to make the trip. That’s all that matters.
  • Whenever the Foxes come to visit them, Andrew cleans out the entire house. Makes sure every surface is scrubbed and not a thing is out of place. He makes them all take their shoes off at the doorstep and warns Nicky he’ll make him bleed if he hoists his legs up on the recently polished coffee table.
  • Andrew and Neil working out together, and Neil once again, being flabbergasted by just how much weight this boy can lift. It feels like some strange metaphor for all of Neil’s baggage he took at face value and handled like a rock. “You’re staring again,” Andrew points out, sitting there in a muscle t-shirt, his skin slick with sweat, his blond tufts pulled back by a thin black bandana, performing a 180kg deadlift like it’s practically nothing. “Yeah,” Neil manages. “Get used to it already.”
  • The two of them getting away for the weekend from everyone and everything. Driving, driving, halting at terribly lit gas stations in the middle of nowhere to buy cigarettes and soda, star-gazing on the roof of the Maserati, Andrew knowing every constellation by heart, Neil gaping at him in quiet, captivated awe. The two of them falling asleep in dingy motel rooms after making messy love. The comfort in the little things and just purely enjoying one another’s existence, one another’s presence. Neil’s head on Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew pressing a kiss to the pulse point of Neil’s throat, Neil fiddling with Andrew’s hair, Andrew shivering when Neil bites promises into his neck, Andrew’s hands underneath Neil’s shirt, killing his scars with his kisses.
  • Listen I could go on forever but I need to STOP.
Dating Peter Parker Would Include.....

Homecoming spoilers. Pin for later when you’ve watched the film. :) I repeat, spoilers. SPOILERS.

  • Being his best friend, aside from Ned, of course.
  • Living just across the hall. It was actually how you two met back in the day when he used to visit Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
  • Struggling and mourning the loss of Uncle Ben, because let’s face it, you adored those two with all your heart. (They used to babysit you whenever your parents needed a last minute babysitter)
  • Rubbing the fact that Aunt May loves you more (even though she loves you two the same) in Peter’s face.
  • Enduring all of Aunt May’s larb jokes whenever you join them for Thai.
  • “I larb you, Peter. And I larb you too, [Y/N]
  • “Okay, Aunt May…..enough.” 
  • “What? You don’t larb me? Am I too lame to be larbed? Too cool to larb your awesome aunt? Not enough larb to go around to your good ole aunt? Saved all your larb for you one true larb, [Y/N]? Huh? Hm?”  
  • “Uh….we larb you too?” 
  • “Thank you, [Y/N]. At least someone larbs me.” 
  • Being completely supportive of Peter getting an internship with Tony Stark. 
  • Offering to help him with his internship.
  • Getting slightly offended that he doesn’t want help.
  • “Am I not smart enough to help you?” 
  • “What? God, no. It’s not that…..it’s um….I just have to do this on my own, that’s all. You know, no help. Strictly myself….” 
  • Competing against him with academic scores. 
  • Being extremely competitive with each other when it came to exams.
  • Going back and forth on having the highest grade.
  • Talking about going to the most prestige college and then changing your minds because you two could never leave Aunt May. 
  • Putting up with Ned being needy. 
  • “Ned….this is a date….between two people.” 
  • “Oh cool, I love pizza. I’ll just sit down right here and take a slice.” 
  • “Ned….” 
  • “Yeah, so anyway, you two should come over and help me build my lego deathstar. It’s legit.” 
  • Bickering with Ned, constantly. (But, loving him just as much as Peter)
  • Getting along great with Michelle. 
  • Roasting Peter and Ned into oblivion with her. 
  • Like full on roasts. It’s fantastic how long you and Michelle can go. 
  • I mean, it’s almost not fair how hard you go. 
  • But, in the end, Peter loves you and is sort of relieved that you get along with the people in his life. 
  • Movie marathons.
  • Cuddles for days.
  • Like the kind of cuddles that make you all warm and fuzzy inside.
  • You know, the ones where you just sigh happily in his arms and think that Disney World ain’t got shit on being the happiest place on earth. 
  • Netflixin’ and chillin’, (if you know what I mean, wink-wink) Forgive me, I forget that’s he’s fifteen. No sir, keep that in your pants now, you little rascal. And you? Don’t be puttin’ out, miss. 
  • Geeking out over Star-Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc.
  • Going to Comic-Cons and dressing up.
  • Building and experimenting to the point where Aunt May and your parents scold you two for almost blowing up the complex.
  • Although, it’s not like you actually could blow up a building to that magnitude. 
  • And after the fire department threatened to arrest you two, you put an end to experimenting. 
  • Peter making you a playlist on your ipod. 
  • Listening to it all the time because you just love the songs he chose. 
  • No seriously, this playlist makes your heart stop with every song.
  • Peter always getting you your favorite muffin for breakfast before school.
  • He’ll even leave it at your front door in a cute little handwritten paper bag if he’s sick for the day.
  • Always being told he loves you.
  • Because, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. 
  • You being embarrassed when he tells random strangers that he loves you. 
  • Like, you’ll be walking down the street and he’ll look at the old lady walking her yorkie, “Excuse me, m’am. But, I just want you to know how much I love this girl right here.” 
  • Peter.” 
  • Then flagging down a taxi to tell the driver too. “Hey, yeah no, I don’t need a ride. Just wanna tell you that I love my girlfriend.” 
  • Peter even telling Happy who always responds with, “Can’t wait for the day she leaves you.” 
  • Him keeping his double-agent life a secret.
  • Because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. 
  • Constantly wondering why Peter’s free time is slowly diminishing. Because you can’t quite believe the internship was that demanding.
  • Worrying that Peter was going to break up with you. 
  • Peter finding out about your worries through Michelle. (Who threatened to skin him alive should he ever hurt you.)
  • Taking a night off from his “internship” to take you out.
  • “Peter….we’ve been on the train forever.”
  • “Have a little bit of patience, [Y/N].” 
  • “Where are we going? Does Aunt May know you’re out right now? How much longer? Is this going to be forever? Are we running away from our problems? Running from being millennials and trying to fit in with society? I didn’t pack anything. How are we going to survive the outside world?” 
  • Peter intentionally ignoring your million questions by putting his headphone in one ear and other in yours. 
  • Playing your favorite song to keep you quiet.
  • Realizing he’s taking you to Central Park. 
  • Almost on the verge of tears when you find out that he organized a candlelit picnic under the stars. 
  • Seeing Ned in the distance as he walks away and knowing that he had a hand in it.
  • Smiling and feeling secure that Peter is here to stay.
  • Getting a weird feeling that he’s still hiding something.
  • Unsure of how to go about asking him what he’s hiding because you don’t want to cross a line.
  • Michelle not caring and confronting him before coming back to you and confirming that he is hiding something because of the way he acted.
  • Feeling uneasy but forcing yourself to believe that Peter would tell you everything and anything because you two were on the same level and understanding about your relationship.
  • Using the Washington D.C. trip to curve your mind from it.
  • It failing when Peter decides to re-join the decathlon team. 
  • Forcing yourself to ignore the gut feeling that Peter is hiding something when you asked him why he decided to re-join.
  • Peter being completely oblivious to your uneasiness.
  • Pushing it to the back of your brain when Liz scolds you for not having your head in the game.
  • But it coming back when Peter doesn’t show up for the decathlon. 
  • Corning Ned and demanding where Peter is and why he isn’t answer his phone. 
  • Getting irritated when Ned stumbles over his words. 
  • Becoming so upset that you tell Ned to tell Peter that he better have an explanation or else they would be over. 
  • Visiting the monument with everyone with the exception of Peter (obviously) and Michelle who passed on the tour. 
  • Ignoring Ned when he tries to talk to you.
  • Liz concerned that you were upset and asks if you want to talk about it.
  • About to confide in her when the elevator of the Monument starts to malfunction.
  • Peter freaking the hell out when Michelle screams, “My friends are up there!”
  • Panicking and pleading Karen to help him find a way to save you and everyone else.
  • Trying to stay calm even though your heart is about to flip out of your chest.
  •  Getting mad all over again because you were going to die pissed off at your boyfriend. 
  • Spider Man saving you just in the nick of time. 
  • Being so traumatized over the ordeal and Peter not being there, you lash out on him when he finally decides to make an appearance. 
  • Michelle shaking her head, “You messed up, dude.” 
  • “[Y/N], wait! Please, I can explain.” 
  • “Explain? Explain?! I’m going to need a whole encyclopedia of an explanation, Peter. Can you give me that?
  • Ned trying to diffuse the situation. 
  • Getting even more pissed off and breaking up with Peter.
  • Michelle whistling (because she didn’t see it coming), “Man, that’s rough. You gonna be okay? Actually? I don’t care. Bye.” Running after you to make sure you were going to be okay. 
  • Ignoring all of Peter’s texts and phone calls.
  • Having your parents stop Peter from coming into the apartment even though they felt you were being silly. (They adored Peter)
  • Sitting in your room with a pint of your favorite ice cream while watching stupid rom-com films. 
  • Crying when the guy gets the girl.
  • But telling yourself, you’re better than that and that you don’t need Peter.
  • Crying again because you need Peter. 
  • Hearing a knock on your bedroom door and getting mad because you just know your parents let him in. 
  • Yanking open the door to find a worried Aunt May.
  • “May? What’s wrong?” 
  • Her coming into your room, “I know you and Peter are fighting right now but have you heard from him?”
  • “No, I haven’t. I actually haven’t received any texts or calls from him today….” 
  • “Where is he? He’s been gone all day. I’m freaking out, [Y/N]. I’ve called every precinct and coroners office.” 
  • Being speechless because it is very unlike Peter to not check with Aunt May. 
  • Her on the verge of tears, “I can’t loose him too.” 
  • Grabbing your jacket and your phone, hugging Aunt May tight and telling her you’re going to find him. 
  • Spending hours before finding him sulking in hello kitty pajama pants and an awful touristy tshirt. 
  • Awkward tension as you text Aunt May and telling her you found him and that he was on his way up.
  • Knowing that there was something wrong but not wanting to engage because you were still mad at him
  • Eventually breaking because you still love him.
  • “I lost the internship with Tony Stark……” 
  • “I’m so sorry, Peter. I know how much that meant to you.” 
  • “Yeah…..” 
  • Letting him go. 
  • Regretting not hugging him or comforting him. 
  • Going back to your apartment to sulk and eat another pint of ice cream. 
  • Turning on the television to torture yourself with more rom-com’s. 
  • Witnessing Spider Man and Iron-Man save a bunch of people on a ferry.
  • Dropping your spoon and ice cream as it hits you. 
  • Running into your room to grab your journal. (you wrote daily)
  • Comparing the dates and times of when Spider Man was spotted and whenever Peter claimed he had the “internship”.
  • Finding a consistent pattern. 
  • It dawning on you that Peter Parker is Spider Man. 
  • “Holy shit.” 
  • “That little shit!” 
  • Running out of your apartment and across the hall.
  • Banging on the door. 
  • Aunt May answering with a concerned look.
  • Ignoring her and pushing past her to go straight into Peter’s room.
  • Busting in and then closing the door behind you. 
  • Marching straight up to his startled, adorable, puffy eyed self. 
  • Punching him in the arm and then covering his mouth when he lets out a yelp.
  • “You’re Spiderman?! Spiderman? Seriously? That’s what the internship with Tony Stark was about? What the hell, dude.” 
  • Peter being completely in shock that you found out. 
  • Standing there in complete silence for almost half and hour. 
  • Him finally explaining how it happened. 
  • Understanding why he didn’t want to tell you but still a little salty about it. 
  • “So…..are we okay now?” 
  • “……..” 
  • “[Y/N]?” 
  • “……..”
  • Baby.” 
  • “Fine. We’re okay but don’t you ever keep secrets from me ever again.” 
  • Everything going back to normal. 
  • Him showing you all his nifty tricks.
  • Feeling bad that he got his suit taken away. 
  • Trying to make him feel better by telling him he doesn’t need the suit. 
  • Ned being ecstatic that you know. 
  • Because now he can finally talk about it with someone other than Peter. 
  • Ned not shutting up about it. 
  • Peter showing you a different view of the city.
  • Planning romantic dinners on roof tops. 
  • Or well, kind of romantic.
  • It’s mainly subs and sodas.
  • But it’s the thought that counts, alright.
  • Making you promise that you will run away whenever something bad happens. 
  • Vowing that he will never let anyone hurt you for as long as he lives because aside from Aunt May, you are the most important person in his life and he does what he does to protect you. 

Fuck. I didn’t think I’d get this many people requesting to be tagged. This literally took me forever…..


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Come Back to Me (Part Three)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: No
Genre: Neutral
Warnings: Mention of sickness but nothing severe
Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Originally posted by stallingdemons

“(Y/N). Hey, (Y/N). (Y/N)!” 

You jolted in your seat, looking around frantically as you were awoken from your half-asleep state. You noticed you were in class—asleep, nonetheless, something you’d never do—and when you turned to your right, you were greeted with two pair of eyes looking at you. One was amused and the other concerned.

“Oh,” you whispered groggily, clearing your throat and rubbing your eyes. You looked to the front of the classroom where the teacher was still teaching, and you sighed a breath of relief when you realized she didn’t seem to notice you dozing off. You looked back to your side where Peter and Ned sat. “Hey, guys.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Peter asked with furrowed eyebrows, pressing his hand to your forehead to check for a fever.

Your heart sped up in your chest, still not used to the touch of his skin against yours. Since the night two months ago when you had wiped the water from his chin and awkward air ensued, you had noticed Peter had been touching you more. Only in small, subtle ways, like leaning against you when you sat together, or swinging his arm around your shoulder when the two of you walked next to each other. And you couldn’t get used to it. You didn’t think you would ever get used to it.

And of course, the casual touches didn’t help with your still-growing feelings for your best friend. And you were still sure you could never tell him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said quietly, not wanting to attract the teacher’s attention, and pushed his hand from your head. “Just tired.”

You scanned his body, looking for injuries. You were relieved to see Peter here and well, but you couldn’t help but be slightly angry at him for not messaging you last night that he wasn’t going to come over. You had stayed up all night, waiting anxiously for his knock on the window or at least for a call, but neither came. You watched the news, checking every channel you could think of, but there were no bad reports about Spiderman, nor good reports. There were no reports, which concerned you even more. You texted his phone and called and left voicemails, but with no response. For all you could’ve known, he was dead.

You had gotten no sleep over this boy, sick to your stomach thinking of every possibility as to why he wasn’t responding, and here he was now, in school, asking you if ‘you were okay.’

No, Peter, you weren’t okay.

“I’m okay, really! Don’t worry about me,” you smiled, lying through your teeth, but you didn’t think he noticed.

“I always worry about you,” he said in response, but he turned his face towards the front of the classroom before he could see your shock-stricken expression.

You looked towards the teacher as well, hiding your grin behind your hair. He worried about you. Always. Those weren’t words that Peter threw around lightly, but he seemed to say them a lot to you. But still, you wouldn’t let those words distract you from your hidden anger. You poked his arm to attract his attention, and he looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Where were you last night?” You whispered under your breath to him, making sure no one else could hear you. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry I didn’t text. May has the flu and I stayed in to take care of her,” he said, and you sighed heavily. You couldn’t blame him for being a good nephew.

“Oh, okay. Just, let me know next time, okay?” You responded, and he nodded immediately.

The two of you actually paid attention to the teacher for a few minutes before you felt a nudge to your arm. You looked over at Peter to see him staring at you. “What?” 

“Were you worried about me?” 

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I- uh, what?”

“Last night,” he elaborated. “Were you worried when I didn’t show up?”

“Um,” you tried to articulate an answer to his question in your head, and you tried to think of ways to lie or joke your way out of this and say no, of course I wasn’t worried, but nothing came to mind. So you went with the truth. “Yeah, I was worried,” you chuckled nervously. “I didn’t know if you were dead or if you were trapped somewhere or- I just didn’t know if you were okay. But you’re here now, so.”

You looked down at your desk, red dusted on your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted him and glanced back towards him. “It’s okay, really. Like I said, just let me know next time, okay?”

Peter hesitated. He stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing your face, almost as if he was trying to find something. “Yeah, I will.”

You nodded in return. So did he. The two of you began to listen to the teacher again. 

But what you didn’t notice, was how Peter’s gaze lingered on your face when you looked away, and he smiled softly. 

*******************************
Let me know what you guys think of this one! I’m not sure if I should make a part four, so pretty please tell me if you’d like another part! Thank you for the amazing response I’ve gotten from the first two parts, it means so much to me!! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open :)

~e

College AU Shance where Shiro is still older than Lance (maybe he went to the military out of high school and a few years after the “accident” he decided he was ready to attend college), but Lance is the funny first year gen ed teacher with a buff attractive male student with a prosthetic arm and a cool scar across his face sitting in the front row, smiling at him. All semester said student sends him looks while he’s teaching and Lance thinks he’s gonna die from embarrassment every time he starts stuttering because of it. After the final exam, Shiro stays late so he can finally ask out Professor McClain (not that he hadn’t tried a few times before, but Lance was very strict on his “I don’t date students” rule - mostly just because he was scared of getting fired on his first year - though he’d definitely expressed interest) Lance accepts the date now that Shiro technically isn’t his student anymore. They end up going on a date (and maybe a little more than that), Lance quickly finds out he has a thing for Shiro calling him “Professor” in a low voice.

Also:

“Takashi?” Lance asks, taking roll on the first day.

“I actually go by Shiro. Takashi makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

“Okay, Shiro it is. I’ll make sure to only call you Takashi when you’re in trouble,” Lance says, perhaps a bit too flirty.

“I’ll try to stay out of trouble then, professor,” Shiro winks, flirting back.

Lance realizes he’s got a long semester ahead of him.

anonymous asked:

Supercorp at a baseball game

When Kara asks if she’s free Saturday, she immediately makes sure she is.

When Kara, fingers coated in cheese and salt and salsa, drags her up bleacher after bleacher until they reach the perfect spot, she realizes maybe she should’ve asked why.

“Want one?” A chip is held towards her, cheese slipping off and falling in a clump on the bleacher between them. “It’s okay. I’ll get it.”

She doesn’t wait to see what Kara means by that, turning her attention back to the people milling about the field. A part of her knows what Kara intends, and her stomach twists at the thought.

“All good.”

When she glances down, the cheese is gone and Kara looks unnervingly proud of herself.

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