i was reading it earlier why not

Habits of successful students

Discipline: “discipline is doing what needs to be done, even when you don’t want to”, which means that you have to force yourself to start doing things. 

Concentration: when you make a real effort in your work (study, homeworks etc…) you will be more likely to actually focus, understand and learn. 

Organization: always set tasks and goals and organize a study-schedule. Maybe you don’t really want to plan all the week, but if you just wake up and open your agenda/bullet journal/iphone calendar and write down all the things you have to do, setting due dates and deadlines, you’ll feel more conscious and encouraged to stay on track. 

Tasks-splitting: sometimes, you write down your tasks. Some of these tasks may be very hard and complicated, and it will take a long long time to complete them. So, you can split them in smaller tasks, so you will feel satisfied after a shorter period of time, instead of studying for hours and still seeing that chapter undone on your study-schedule. 

Watch the sunrise: when I wake up late, I feel like I don’t have enought time to do my work and lose my motivation. I literally panic and then I think “whatever, I could not complete all the things anyway”. So, if you wake up earlier you will feel more positive and  controlled. 

Smart reading: try not to read your textbook just like a newspaper. For every paragraph you read, try to underline and write down key words and then your question about that subject. Literally, turn your textbook into questions. If you write down question - particularly why…? - and think about the answer, you will be more likely to remember that stuff later. 

Healthy lifestile: if you don’t drink enough water in the morning, you will be more likely to have a decrease of concentration in the afternoon/evening, so: stay hydrated. Try also to have some snaks every one-two hours: feed your brain

vintage Carmilla fandom things
  • L/Elle/Ell/Eleanor Discourse
  • Is Danny a werewolf?
  • Is Danny Elle?
  • Is the Dean Carmilla’s mother (this question came up earlier for people who’d read the book than those who hadn’t)?
  • H*llence vs. H*llstein 
  • I’m not spelling out either of those because virtual fucking blood was spilled in that ship war and it still hasn’t totally died and I don’t want to arouse the ire of anyone in the tags
  • people stalking Natasha and her mom
  • I’m not sure anyone ever figured out why they stalked her mom
  • One time someone shipped Carmilla/the Dean and tried to hold a Carmilla And Lilita Week for people to make fanworks about them. 
  • Most fans were understandably put off by the idea of shipping someone with her abusive mother figure and nobody contributed except this one person who made us all deeply uncomfortable for a week in the tags
  • thE DAYS WE SPENT THINKING CARMILLA WAS DEAD
  • I’M PRETTY SURE THAT EPISODE DROPPED ON A THURSDAY SO WE HAD TO LIVE WITH IT ALL WEEKEND
  • I HAD JUST GOTTEN OFF A PLANE TO SEE MY PARENTS FOR THANKSGIVING WHEN SOMEONE TOLD ME AND I HAD TO GO CRY IN AN AIRPORT BATHROOM EVEN THOUGH I DOUBTED IT WAS FOR KEEPS
  • Stars and Candles (early name for Hollstein, before the current name solidified)
  • Carmilla’s bangs. that doesn’t seem like a big thing but some people got like personally affronted when Natasha decided to grow her bangs out
  • “See that subscribe button? You should click it.”
  • VerveGirlTV
  • Laura having no fashion sense to speak of and straight hair
  • Perry dressing like a Sunday school teacher. From 1987. 
  • Coming up with names for Laura’s dad
  • “But what if Carmilla’s not a vampire in this version?”
  • Yes, that was an actual theory. I saw it a surprising amount considering it was made clear from almost her first appearance that she was a Massive Vampireface from Vampireland
  • I’ve just realized Tuesgays and Thursgays are becoming a vintage fandom thing and now I’m sad

Have you ever read something and thought “I wonder why this company has such a good reputation for taking care of its employees?” because i damn sure am wondering right now how publix has maintained a reputation as an employee friendly workplace for so long when they are passing these out during what is set to be one of the most destructive hurricanes to hit florida in history.

my friend sent this to me earlier today so i could put this online for them, and I want everyone of you to look at that piece of paper; look capitalism in the face and tell me it doesnt kill people

publix should be ashamed to be so undeniably morally bankrupt that they would put employees in a position where if they dont, defy police orders for their own safety and risk their lives for the capital gains of the company they could lose their livelihood AND THEN BULLSHIT THEIR WAY THROUGH WITH SOME COCKED UP EXCUSED ABOUT STAYING OPEN TO SERVE THE COMMUNITY.

you know who’s closed through the duration of the hurricane? 

walmart

fucking walmart

known for being one of the scroungiest businesses around.

I want this to blow up in publix’ face, I want there to be public outcry I want them to be completely shamed into rescinding these not only for the sheer principal but for the safety of those who are going to be coerced out into life threatening situations by this, just so they could try and get to work during a deadly storm for no extra pay.

so please share this, put it on your twitter, tag it, send it to your friends and share the outrage. 

shame this company into letting their employees stay safe

Important Screenshots From The New Voltron S4 Trailer

and my interpretations/analysis

Where is Keith?

Seriously, where is he? Are they actually making plans and working without him?? Is he off sulking somewhere or is he on a mission by himself?

Lance is adorable. Nuff said.

ROLO AND NYMA HAVE RETURNED. Also: just Hunk and Pidge here, so they’ve split up to do missions again? Is the other pairing Lance and Keith..? >.> 

It kind of looks like the Marmorites are mourning someone here, no? But the only other named member we know is Kolivan? Unless that’s meant to be Keith in the suit there holding his blade, hence why he was missing from the group earlier…? It does look a bit buff to be him though so maybe I’m reading into this too much haha.

Lotor is only walking with Narti here - Kova is keeping a close eye on him for Haggar?

Multiple rebel ships here being shot at - and this is on the line “with their help”, so I think it’s safe to assume the coalition is fighting back.

They do form Voltron at a ‘join the coalition’ show, so Keith is in fact there for at least one.

I still believe that Lotor is attacking Narti and/or Kova in this clip, given the shocked expressions on the other generals’ faces.

The camera tracks this one rebel ship in particular - so is this Rolo and Nyma, or perhaps Matt’s band of rebel fighters we’re seeing here?

Pidge alone off on her mission to save Matt, surely.

A Black Lion roar again? Is.. the real Shiro back? Or is somebody.. else.. flying the Black Lion??

I’m not really sure what to make of these two other than Acxa seems anxious to see Lotor’s response at first, but then she looks off to the side (still pretty worried, it looks) and begins to move her mouth in order to say something - to shout an order maybe. Is Voltron taking their ship? Idk

Well Keith is definitely in Black here - and he still wants to take Lotor fucking down lmaoo

The castle’s particle barrier is damaged. “We have them right where we want them.” It’s.. not a good sign.

I thought Red was missing from this shot and I was about to scream whERE TF IS LANCE but -

- OH, nope, nope he’s okay, he was just behind Black, it’s fine… It’s not like I’m deathly worried about him or anything.

Lotor is in the ship he built from the meteor instead of Narti or Acxa?

Space mall !!!!!!

Aaand we still do not know who Lance is blushing at here. But I almost want to assume that it could be Nyma now that we know she’s back?? That could be hers and Rolo’s ship in the background there? Idk, still hoping it’s Keith lol

... Somehow, Still Talking About This Captain America Shit (Now With Bonus Spider-Man and Agents of SHIELD)

So now Secret Empire has revealed its Shyamalan Twist and given the readers a Good Guy Steve Rogers as well as Hydra Cap, and the kinds of dickbags who, when this whole bullshit began were dismissing people’s complaints with “oh come on, don’t you know how comics works, it’s all going to be put back at the end, blah blah blah…” are crowing I-Told-You-So’s.

But here’s the thing:

Yeah, fucknuts.  We always knew this.

Keep reading

misdial | pcy

park chanyeol. reader-insert. 5,6k words. fluff/angst. au

—it all started with one misdial, then a second and a third and…

this one is for Sasha @floofyeol

3.12 a.m: missed call from Park Chanyeol

“You called me?” 

“Oh, did I? I’m sorry, it was a misdial.”

“Oh, I see.”

3.14 a.m.: incoming call from Park Chanyeol

“Hello?”

“Actually, I just wanted to hear your voice.”


Keep reading

Blue Hair

me: *has 30 requested prompts to write*

also me: *write a random prompt he saw on tumblr* oops

this is cute tho. I got the prompt from this post


“Draco, you’re zoning out again.” Snape was talking to him about the task he was set by the Dark Lord yet again. Frankly, Draco didn’t care. When he was first told about the task he had been frightened and scared, but now didn’t give a shit about anything.

“I don’t care anymore!” He blurted out. Snape looked taken aback by his sudden outburst. “I’m not going to kill dumbledore and I’m not fixing your bloody cabinet anymore!” He stood up and walked toward the door.

“Draco, you must! The Dark Lord ordered it. He’ll kill you if you don’t.” His voice sounded greatly worried.

“The war will kill me anyway. What’s the point?” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. “I got this ruddy mark because that’s what everyone expected me to do. When do I get to have a say in what happens to me?”

“I made the Unbreakable Vow. I promised to help you.”

“That’s not my problem.” He said harshly and walked out of Snape’s office, slamming the door shut as he walked out.

The next day Draco stalked into the Great Hall with bright blue hair. He felt everyone’s gaze on him, but ignored them. Draco plonked himself down and ate a proper meal for the first time in weeks. He quite liked this not caring thing.

Once he had finished, he got up and walk out to head to his first class of the day. He didn’t notice that Harry Potter had been staring at him all throughout breakfast, his eyes wide with shock when he first saw him. He was intrigued and wondered what the sudden change in mood was caused by.

The next time Harry saw him was in Care of Magical Creatures. Draco was walking down the hill and Harry watched him come nearer and nearer until he realised he was walking toward them. He quickly averted his eyes so he didn’t look like he was staring.

“Granger.” Draco called out and Hermione swiveled around, stopping the conversation she was having with Ron, to face Malfoy.

“What do you want.” She said plainly.

“I saw you reading this book earlier.” He held up a book that Harry had seen Hermione read religiously a few days ago. Hermione crossed her arms and waited for him to continue. “I wanted to discuss it with you.” He stated.

Harry could see the conflict in her eyes as she debated whether or not to do so. He knew how much she loved that book, seeing as she never shut up about it. “Why do you want to discuss it with me?”

“Well, you liked it, didn’t you?” Hermione nodded again. “You’re the only person I know who has read it.” He said like it was obvious.

Hermione was silent for a moment. “Alright.” She gave in and jumped into a heated conversation about the book. Harry stared at Malfoy once again and couldn’t help but notice how nice his smiled was.

“Yes! Exactly!” Draco exclaimed when one of the slytherins yelled over to him.

“Hey, Draco! What are you doing talking to the mudblood!”

Draco whipped around and took his wand out of his pocket. He cast a jelly legs jinx at the one who shouted. “It’ll be a lot worse if I hear you saying that word again!”

“Thanks.” Hermione mumbled as Ron laughed so hard he doubled over. Harry found himself smiling as well.

After the lesson had concluded, Draco walked up to Hagrid who was cleaning up dung with Harry helping him as usual. Hagrid looked up when he stopped in front of him. He looked quite confused and probably assumed that Malfoy was going to insult him as he had done in previous years. However, it came as quite the shock when Draco began apologising.

“I was stupid and arrogant and didn’t realise that I wasn’t my father. I’ve always found your lessons quite interesting, if I’m being honest.” He said sincerely.

Hagrid looked like he was on the verge of tears when he brought Draco into a bone crushing hug. Draco laughed. It wasn’t a cruel or evil one. It was genuine and heartfelt.

“Thank you, Malfoy.” He muttered when he let go of Draco.

He smiled up at him. “You’re welcome. Do you need any help cleaning up?” He asked.

Hagrid smiled and handed him a shovel which Draco gracefully accepted. Harry looked at him in disbelief as he started cleaning. When Harry caught his eyes he just shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

Harry was sure that Malfoy could no longer shock him after everything that has happened today. Oh how wrong he was.

Him, Hermione, and Ron walked into the Great Hall for dinner and were just about to sit down when Draco walked through the door dramatically and strode up to Harry.

“Mal-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Draco grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him into a kiss. The entirety of the Hall went silent and he was sure he heard some people exchanging money. Draco pulled away before he could kiss back, which resulted in Harry pulling Draco into another kiss.

anonymous asked:

Can you do a twitter prompt where the russian skate fam make yakov a twitter and he just talks about how yuuri is the only skater that listens to him and he is not even coaching him and vik gets jealous? Love this AU

Yakov On Twitter

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
I do not understand the point of this Twit-ter

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Mila, how does one work the Twit-ter

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
What? I’m doing it right?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
I don’t understand

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Why am I getting hearts? I don’t want hearts?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Where is the Japanese Yuri when you need him?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
He would explain the Twit-ter

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Japanese Yuri is my favourite skater.

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
I don’t care if he isn’t really my skater, he may as well be

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Victor can’t coach. That boy is just too in love with the Japanese Yuri to coach him

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
You should have seen them the other day, it was horrible

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Japanese Yuri failed a jump and instead of telling him off, Victor kissed every inch of exposed skin

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Everyone gets it, you two are in love. But coach the poor boy and make out with him later

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Japanese Yuri makes me these little lunch boxes

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
He puts this little hot dog things that are shaped like octopuses

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
And he shapes the eggs like bunnies

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
And he shaped the rice like pandas with seaweed as the markings

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Victor does not deserve this man

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Someone convince the Japanese Yuri to be my skater

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
What do you mean everyone can read this, Mila?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
What? You did?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
What? I’m not responding privately?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
I don’t understand

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman 
Where is Japanese Yuri when you need him?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Why is Victor crying now?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
What do you mean it is because of me?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
Well of course Japanese Yuri is better than Victor. Do you know the stress Victor has put me through for all these years?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman 
Do you know how much hair I have lost because of that boy?

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman 
Would I give Victor up? Never.

Yakov Feltsman @Yakov-Feltsman
He is basically my son. That and I doubt anyone one else would put up with him.

Twitter War AU

AO3 Twitter War

Yandere Sentence Starters~! ❤🔪

{So this is my try at a few Yandere Sentence Starters! Hope you enjoy! ^^}
{Might be updated!}

(PS: If you ever write something with one of my starters then please tell me! Cause I’d love to read it!!)


~I really want to be gentle to you right now, but you’re making it impossible.

~You lied to me…You know what that means right?

~You’re happy being together with me, yes?

~Should I just break your legs? That way you could never, ever run away again.

~I saw you laughing with him… That’s unforgivable, Darling…

~Why do you think I’m stalking you? I’m only keeping you safe and clean.

~I’m the only one that can kill you.

~If I’m going to die. I’m taking you with me.

~I loved you since I first saw you, much more earlier then… Him.

~If you’re with me. I don’t need anything else.

~Please don’t cry…

~You’re the only one for me.

~You don’t need anyone but me.

~Love me. Love me. LOVE ME! I just want you to love me!!!

~Don’t worry. He’s all taken care of.

~If you will never give me your heart, then we should just die together.

~Why are you trembling? It can’t be because of me…

~You’re absolutely gorgeous when you cry.

~I’d advice you think twice before saying things like that. You’re not leaving me, ever.

~You’re MINE!!! Is it that hard to understand?!

~I’ll break that spirit of yours. It’s gonna be fun.

~There is no escape from me and my love.

~I want to earn your trust. Your faith. Your heart. You will never be deceived.

~I want to mix our blood and put it in the ground, so you can never leave.

~This hurts? Good. Keep showing me that expression, my love.

~Anyone who gets between you and I shall die.

~Am I wrong? You want to be loved, Don’t you?

~I will eat up your heart and you’ll be forever mine.

~I will mark my proof on your entire body.

~I won’t let you run away.

~I will treasure all of these tears that you shall shed.

~There’s nowhere to run, so let’s just get it over~

~Soon I know you’ll see. You’re just like me.

~Don’t scream anymore, my love.

~Because all I want is you~!

~Only I can protect you~!

~I do EVERYTHING for you!!! Why can’t you just understand it?!

~I will gouge out those eyes. Then the last thing you will ever see is me.

~I’ll cut out your tongue, if you won’t stop yelling.

~I want your innocence.

~I want your every step.

~I will destroy everything in my way until I have you.

~Come to me and you won’t regret it.

~I’m not jealous. I just don’t like others watching MY property.

~You’re going to be mine, all mine.

~You’re much more beautiful when broken.

~You’re only my enjoyment.

~I love the way you react.

~You’re lying. You love me, I know it.

~This is all your fault. You have nobody blame but yourself.

~Choose me and I won’t kill anyone.

~I’m not asking for much. Just give me your heart.

~Tell me you love me!

~You’re so cute while sleeping!

~I’ll be watching you…~

~Oh can’t you see~ You belong to me!

~Get Ready! Cause here I come!

~I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way you do.

~My love is pure and true.

~I’m gonna try to make you love me too.

~Let me in! Just let me in!

~I’m your Guardian Angel.

~Keep crying. I like that sound.

~It will kill me leave when you will leave me…

~You’re beautiful gagged and bound.

~Don’t scream!

~You know I did this all for you and me!

~Our love is caught in your eyes~

~You take my breath away.

~I don’t know what to do besides… killing you.

~I’ll kiss. I’ll touch. I’ll cut you.

~ know you feel the same!

~You’ll see that I’m the only one for you!

~I’ll break you to pieces~

~But you don’t understand! Why can’t you understand?!

~You do feel the same way… Do you?

~Don’t worry! You’re only like that so you couldn’t escape!

~I’ll cut off these wings, so you can no longer fly.

~I will monopolise everything you do~

~I’ll lock you up all for me, in a dark room~

~Even this beautiful hair covering your head. I won’t stop until it’s all red.

~Just looking at the face of the frightened you. Gives me a Thrill that’s unbearable.

~On this hand. On this eye. On this leg. On your cheek. My mark will forever show~

~I’ll make sure this time spent with you will not be ruined.

~I’m the only one who will ever love you.

~My love, keep your eyes on me.

~I am the only one who will treasure everything you do~

q&a various

the-book-nerds-world said:Hi! Will any new characters be introduced in The Wicked Powers? Can’t wait! Thanks :)

Yep! Dru has her own group of friends, as well as her family, and there are various other villains and heroes and side characters.

princekierz said:Hei Cassie. Does the Unseelie King or the Seelie Queen have names (not their true names, but names like “Kieran”, “Meliorn” or “Iarlath” for instance) that close people can call them other then just their “royal titles”? And also, can you tell which was/is Kieran’s mother name?

Yes, the King and Queen have both true names, and also names their more intimate friends might call them that are not true names. Since we never see the Queen from the point of view of a faerie, or at least we haven’t yet, the Shadowhunters aren’t going to think of her or call her anything but “The Seelie Queen” because it’s still an honor to call her by her common name, and not one she’d extend lightly.

the-book-nerds-world said:Hiii, Cassie! Oh my God I know that snippet is of Julian (he just seems so dark and Julian-ish) I really wanted to ask this question, is Cordelia’s hair natural or dyed? Thank you, Cassie, *virtual hugs* have a nice day!

Cordelia doesn’t dye her hair, but she does use henna on it, which intensifies the red. Her hair is naturally auburn (dark reddish brown). She’s biracial, with a Persian mother and an English father. Red-headed people have existed in the region of Persia/Iran for centuries, though the trait isn’t common. (When I was a baby in Iran, with dark red hair, Iranian moms who stopped to talk to my mom assumed my dad was Iranian. Sometimes they would comment on my hair being a “sign of Alexander” — as in the Greek blood of Alexander the Great still bouncing around giving people reddish hair, probably a myth but I love a myth.) Cordelia’s brother Alastair does dye his hair blond, for his own reasons, but not for all the books.

reallyluna said:I just wanted to let you know how important of a character Dru is to me. When I was younger (and even now), I was always the chubby kid and developed a bit earlier than the other girls. There’s all these characters about girls who are self conscious about not having boobs or curves or whatever, but I never actually read about a character who was sometimes self conscious because of those things. So thank you for giving me a character I can really relate to.

*hugs*

queenhelenblackthorn said:Will we find out why the Seelie Queen was missing during the events of TftSA?

Yep!

Vow

*swamped with homework and feelings and managed to shell this out a month late…I’m a mess™*

Request:  Hii can i have a drabble thingy game with jimin?TY😙😉 12,23 by  rebelliousjvmin

Word Count: 8.6k

Originally posted by bwipsul

He’s a literal angel


You were immersed in a deep sleep, tired from working on a large project that was worth half your grade. In you attempt to disconnect from the world around and sleep peacefully, you blocked out the sounds and all touch with reality. The sudden dip in your bed didn’t bother you, the presence of another body and an arm haphazardly wrapping around you, these were things you were blocking out. Until you felt a finger on your cheek.

“Hey, roomie.”

“I hate you.”

“You know you love me.”

“Kiss my ass, Jimin.” You used to think you were lucky to be paired up with your best friend in the dorms of your university. Until you realized he was a clingy, sassy and messy guy that never failed to annoy you. His leisure attitude towards school was opposite to your dedication to reading every word of your textbook. He was a jock, baseball being the reason he was here in your room and cheekily smiling at you.  

“I wouldn’t mind doing that.” You whacked him in the face with your pillow, wanting him to leave your room but he instead pulled you closer against his chest.

“Let go of me, you pervert.”

“You told me to kiss your ass, now…”

“I swear to god, Jimin, I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”

“Kinky. I always wanted to test out breath play.”

Keep reading

I was doing you a favor by playing the long game...

I too was playing yet another long game by holding on to this for so long.

SO I had read earlier today the owner of a previous job of mine passed away. This was a place that tried to screw me pretty hard and I took some pro revenge on. It drug up some angry old feelings, so why not take an equal dose of catharsis?

WARNING: This is a doozy so strap in if you dare, no TL;DR it wouldn’t do justice.

So this takes place almost a decade ago. I was working as a department manager for a fairly large privately owned pest control company. Their color scheme was black and yellow, much like the taxi’s the owner’s dad used to drive. Since the taxi industry would be around for ever(hello Uber/Lyft) so would this pest control company, (this is important later) or so the owner used to parrot constantly. My job was to over see the techs doing treatments and set their stops and generally manage assorted insect control services, inventory, payroll for that dept, etc etc. I had taken the job from the owners son who took it from the previous manager who they demoted and yet stayed in the dept…this is important later. The owners son was a late 30’s early 40’s man child. I mean if he had dialed it back a few degrees he would have been an awesome guy, but anytime booze was involved he was a mess. If it was weed, he turned into the stereo typical obnoxious stoner making nothing but bad Jamaican accented jokes. He also hit on anything younger than him that moved…while being married w a pregnant wife. But I digress, the owner was a piece of work too, old Jewish guy who was as racist as he was old, not with any kind of seething hatred. Just a “this is the way it is” type attitude. My fave line of his, “The sky is blue, Ch#@ks know math, N@&ers are lazy, Jews know gold. What else is new” Like it was the most clever thing of all time. Finally now on to the revenge and need for such.

Keep reading

intrepid-fool  asked:

I'm new to Terry Pratchett and want to get into Discworld. Is there any order to read them in? I picked one of the shelf randomly and I'm really interested in stories with Tiffany Aching.

So, as a disclaimer, before I scare you away: it is part of Discworld fandom tradition to present newcomers with the Reading Flowchart

It is also part of Discworld fandom tradition to help the Fandom Newbie find an order of reading tailored Specifically For You, because, Newcomer, we’re your own personal reading assistant. 

As you probably know, the Discworld books are separated into series based on which sets of characters appear in them - so you have the Witches, the City Guards, Death & Co., Rincewind and Tiffany Aching, along with a bunch of standalones. 

The books can be read in any order - either by publishing order or series order, or just randomly choosing one with your eyes closed and going from there. I personally had no order in which I read them. After two kind of lukewarm experiences (Moving Pictures and Reaper Man) I decided to try again and just picked up the one that was the thickest and went from there. It was Jingo and then I read Thief of Time and Night Watch, then Feet of Clay and then Guards! Guards! and then Men at Arms. NO CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER, WE GET CONFUSED LIKE MEN

If you like the Tiffany Aching books, you should definitely check out the rest of the Witches series (starting with Wyrd Sisters -> Witches Abroad -> Lords and Ladies -> Carpe Jugulum), because Granny and Nanny both make appearances in the TA books, and they help establish The Meaning of Witching. (The Tiffany Aching books technically take place after the last Witches book, Carpe Jugum, but I’ve always enjoyed Tiff on her own and reading the Witches books alongside that. )

From the witches, most people move onto Death & Co. or Rincewind. 

But. BUT

What next? What’s after that? The series sprawls 40-something books, that’s a lot of options, right?

The flowchart I linked to is kind of outdated though, and also doesn’t give you any idea about how jump from one series to another. 

So…I made a new one. 

(Full size

I know this looks overwhelming. Let me explain the legend of this thing. 

The dotted lines are non-essential connections, in that they’re short stories or tie-in books. I know I threw Colour of Magic and Light Fantastic under a bus there, but they are generally considered the weakest books - this was before any solid worldbuilding. 

The deep green arrows are pretty straightforward - sometimes one book links to another, even though they’re not in the same series. For example, Thief of Time has a Plot Event that kickstarts the story of Night Watch, even though they have two completely (almost) separate sets of characters. The Lords and the Ladies deal with elves, which we see more of in Wee Free Men.

The orange lines are Gateway books, meaning that from there you can easily jump from series to another because of connecting themes or characters. 

For example, if you start with Tiffany Aching and the Witches, you’ve been in the countryside of Lancre the whole time - until you get to Maskerade, which takes place in the city of Ankh-Morporkh. That’s a good way to get into the City Watch and Industrial Revolution-themed books, because it’s an introduction to big city life from the point view of one of its characters. So you can continue with the Witches series after Maskerade, or you can hop onto either the City Guards series or to The Truth and the Moist von Lipwig series. 

The red ones are thematically connected books. Small Gods deals with belief and religion on the Disc, and the creation of god, god-like and sacrilegious figures, which is a theme that crops up repeatedly - like in Hogfather, Wintersmith, I Shall Wear Midnight, Snuff, Going Postal. Pyramids deals with succession crisis, which becomes a recurring theme in Men at Arms, even though they’re set thousands of years apart. The same goes for Moving Pictures, The Truth and Going Postal - the first two are standalone books, but they deal with urban development of Ankh Morporkh, despite having different sets of characters. 

Again, I want to stress that you don’t have to follow this at all. You can easily pick up a random book from the Tiffany Aching series and go in whichever direction you want - this isn’t Star Wars, where you have to slog through 3 badly-directed movies to get the gist of the story. The books are brilliant in their own right - some of the earlier ones are hit-and-miss, but the later ones are generally considered to be quite enjoyable. 

It’s just that all books contain a call-back two to an earlier book - which can be easy to miss if you’re not reading in the right order. A lot also have interconnecting themes and cameos, which can be really delightful to find. 

So that is why we write several-paragraph-long essays.

And if you’re still here, and I haven’t scared you off yet….go forth and read. 

(Disclaimer: I have not read any of the Rincewind books, except for Interesting Times, which didn’t really impress me. I’m open to opinions on those books, however)

I'll Always Write Back [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I’ll Always Write Back

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Requested: by the lovely @the-murphy-family

Summary: Connor and the reader are friends online, but then find out they’re neighbors too. The reader is homeschooled, so she has no way of hearing the rumors about him. They become best buds and hang out with each other everyday and eventually fall in love

A/N: This was waaaayyy longer than I wanted it to be, so my apologizes in advance. Thanks again to @the-murphy-family for such a fantastic prompt, I’m sorry I rushed the exposition so much. I had so much fun writing this! (If you aren’t already following their blog, I highly suggest it).

Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | First person reader | Fighting Murphy siblings

It was almost bedtime by the time I’d messaged him. I hadn’t planned on it, by any means. We talked after I’d finished my lessons for the day–he’d skipped school, I saw, which I always thought was off considering his mother was home.

I’d changed into my pajamas–just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts–and had begun to tuck myself into bed when I saw him.

He’d left his blind open tonight, and through the window screen I could see him silhouetted perfectly, all the lights in his room blazing. It was nearing 9:30, so I wasn’t too shocked to find he was still awake. The houses were so close together on this side of town and, from the second story window, there was nothing but a four yard distance between our windows–and a drop nearly twice that length.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead, giving me a view of his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the thin slope of his nose, and the hard jut of his adam’s apple.

 What startled me enough to give pause was the fact he was unnervingly still, unblinking, staring at something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t working on homework or painting his nails or playing that silly candy crush game on his phone. He was just staring.

Too far away for me to make out his expression, I instead rolled over onto my bed, clicking the lights back on and pulling out my phone, opening up the Chat app we used on the daily.

To: Connor
From: Me

What’s up, buttercup?

I wished I could see him–there were certainly nights we sat by the window and messaged back and forth, but starting out that way would mean he knew I saw him lost in whatever pensive state he’d been in, which more often than not would mean he’d be less than willing to talk. In my lap, my phone buzzed to life.

From: Connor
To: Me

Isn’t past your bedtime or something? 

I snorted, starting my own reply before:

From: Connor
To: Me

Are you having trouble sleeping again?

Swallowing thickly, I immediately replied:

To: Connor
From: Me

No, I’m fine. Just bored, checking to see if you were too :)

I tried to wait, give Connor a moment to compose whatever turmoil he’d been sitting in before I asked how he felt, otherwise I’d get a swift ‘okay’ and the conversation would take a dive bomb south at ridiculous speeds.

From: Connor
To: Me

If it’s nudes you’re looking for, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood tonight, kiddo

I choked, lunging forward in the bed to muffle my embarrassing squawk into my fist. Thank goodness my bed was out of sight of the window, or I’d have to watch Connor chortling at my less than appropriate reaction to his less than appropriate joke.

Connor and I had only been talking for about two months now, after I’d moved out here five months ago. Well, we’d been talking for nearly the entirety of the five months, but I’d only realized it was Connor not all that long ago.

To: Connor
From: Me

Oh no, whatever will I do without seeing your sculpted, rock-hard abs??? ;)

From: Connor
To: Me

Shut up, jerk off

I cackled into my fist, careful to not wake my siblings that slept in the next room over. It had taken a large amount of time to get used to Connor’s rather blunt personality, to put it pleasantly.  He’d always been candid, of course, ever since the first contact I’d had with him on the Chat app (“You swear you aren’t a pedophile, right? Or my dad? That’d be weird as fuck.”) and it had been thrilling to be with someone so open and ready to talk about things. The way he felt. The things he thought. The fact he was afraid.

We didn’t exchange photos for a long time–and I’d never seen Connor outside the house, other than the on and off times he’d flit across his bedroom window like a haunt, never knew his name–but the second his photo flashed on my screen, I knew. Even in the photo he hadn’t been smiling, the same stoic countenance he always wore.

He’d recognized my photo immediately, and had been less than thrilled. It took convincing–a lot of me showing up at the fence between our yards, very nauseous, promising it hadn’t been a mean joke–but he came around.

From: Connor
To: Me

You sure you’re good? You’re quiet

I smiled softly at my phone screen. It was a rare night when Connor had enough energy to be so concerned about others–it wasn’t his fault, I knew, he was just in a bad spot right now. The fact he could consider my feelings for more than a few moments felt remarkable, flattering. But, most importantly, it meant he was doing okay.

To: Connor
From: Me

I’m fine, pls don’t worry :)

To: Connor
From: Me

Are YOU okay?

From: Connor
To: Me

I’m fine, chill out

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. Deflect and distract, his usually strategy.

From: Connor
To: Me

Can’t see you rn


From: Connor
To: Me

Come to the window

I sat up quickly, going over to shut out the light to blur my image to him. Combing my messy hair with my fingers, I tugged on my oversized shirt so that it covered my mostly exposed legs before throwing open the window and leaning out.

Connor, across the way, had already thrown his window open and was halfway leaning out, his face scrunched in confusion. He tapped something out on his phone, pausing every so often to tuck back the dark locks falling into his face. His other arm was braced on the window ledge, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up to expose his bare forearms to moonlight, glowing a soft snow hue in the dark. My phone buzzed as he glanced back up at me with an open expression.

From: Connor
To: Me

Turn on the light, dumbass, I can barely see you

I smiled up at him, putting my phone aside to shake my head ‘no’. He frowned, slumping down a little more against the window, his chest pressed to the ledge, before holding his arms up in a 'why not?’ and flipping me the bird.

I typed out a quick response to let him know that my parents thought I was asleep. I watched him read the text, watched his eyebrows furrowed over his deep-set slate eyes, saw him frown, heard him swear under his breath. I bit back a chuckle as he carded his hand through his hair in frustration several times.

I vaguely wondered why this made so little sense–most of our conversation up to this point had been centric of me, but Connor was visibly frustrated (not that he wasn’t frequently) and earlier he’d seemed much to absent to not be upset about something. My phone buzzed to life, casting a blue glow across my face, and I saw Connor’s face stretch in recognition, pleased to make out my expression in the dark.

From: Connor
To: Me

Meet me in the pool house

My heart jackhammered in my chest at the thought of it–sneaking out. He was crazy, he had to be. He knew my parents would murder me for being up this late, let alone sneaking out, and worst of all, meeting a boy.
Not just a boy. Connor.

I felt him watching me from across the divide, at the edge of my vision and could make out where he leaned against the window, propped up on his elbows and head in his hands, hair hanging in his face. Glancing up, meeting his stony gaze, I nodded.

It was immediate, earning a reaction from him. Biting back my chuckle, he scrambled up from where he kneeled against the window ledge, his whole face smiling as he ran from his window without looking back. He was already standing in his backyard, waving wildly before I’d even departed from the window.

I decided against redressing or doing my hair–Connor was waiting and the quicker I got out there the quicker I got back without alerting my parents to my absence. Besides, it was probably too dark in the pool shed for Connor to make out my bare face and frizzy hair anyway, let alone the hair on my legs and the stretch marks on my thighs. As if Connor had the nerve to look to begin with, I snorted.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, and Connor had left the gate cracked just enough for me to slip in between. The door to the pool shed–just a small building, hardly smaller than my bedroom, at the edge of the yard–was slightly ajar, and I saw quick movements coming from inside.

Once in the doorway, clicking the door shut behind myself, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

“Connor?” I called, spinning in the dark so that my back rested against the door, ready to exit if necessary. My eyes searched the dark frantically–in vain. There was a small window, vaguely fogged from years of neglect that allowed a slim moon beam to shine in on a small pile of towels and blankets, a little bean bag chair. Connor had told me not too long ago he and Zoe hadn’t played in here for years, which meant it held secrets long forgotten by either of the Murphy children. I felt honored to be inside it.

“Hey,” he breathed, and though I could see him, I recognized his soft voice just to the right side of me, breathy and soft. It’s too dark to make him out, and I noticed he’s careful not to touch me, but I can feel his breath against my ear, warm despite the fact it’s chilly for a June night. I felt goosebumps pimpling along my legs, making the hair stand up on end. I silently thanked the universe for giving me the gift of darkness to veil myself in.

“Feels like it might rain,” I sighed, turning toward the sound of him, the warmth. My bare arms brushed something–maybe cotton, maybe not–but it pulled back immediately away from me, accompanied by a quick intake of breath.

“Christ, don’t talk about the weather,” Connor hissed into the dark, a hard thunk resonating through the shed where he must have leaned his head against the wall, a bit too forcefully. How very Connor of him. “That’s the kind of shit my dad says in the car when he acts like he’s uncomfortable to be near me for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning away, and turning to gingerly pick my way across the shed–it was getting late now and I was already beginning to get tired. Connor may be able to stay up until the early morning hours, but I definitely couldn’t be trusted to be awake at eleven.

“Fuck, don’t be sorry, I just meant–shit,” he growled, and I heard another sharp pang against the steel inside of the shed–he’d hit something with his fist, if the metallic clink of what I assumed to be his ring against the sheet metal was any indication.

I stumbled my way to the beanbag chair, collapsing, and letting myself sink into. It smelled a little like chlorine and sun-in hair dye, but it was soft and warm, almost the size of a double bed. I wiggled upright, squinting again to see Connor in the dark now that I took up the only patch of moonlight in the building.

“You aren’t feeling alright, are you?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against the faux suede of the chair, struggling to keep my eyes open. There was a pause.

“That’s not why I asked you over,” he sighed in his tennor, stomping across the room, picking his way, until he flopped down beside me, displacing the insides of the chair and nearly rolling me out of it.

He reached forward with another soft swear, grabbing my shoulder blades to yank me back onto the bean bag bed, rolling me close so that I wouldn’t fall again. I laughed, unsure what was so funny–maybe it was the fact I’d nearly catapulted out of the chair due to all five pounds of Connor “Ribcage” Murphy, or the current situation, my face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. I didn’t move away.

To my surprise, Connor didn’t move away either, just kept both arms wrapped around me, hands firmly in place of my scapula as if scared to dip any lower. I felt the dip of his chin against my temple, felt his lips against my scalp.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He whispered, rubbing quick circles between my shoulder blades.

“Quit dodging my question, Con,” I hissed, beginning to pull away before Connor tightened his grip–surprisingly strong for a boy with such lithe wrists.

“But you are cold,” he muttered, slipping one hand down from my shoulder to my bare arms, rubbing in quick patterns there, attempting to make some sort of friction between us.

God, my parents would kill me if they saw me now.

I want to he clear I wasn’t under any pretenses–this wasn’t, er, Connor hadn’t called me out here so that we could, well–

“I’m fine, Connor,” I promised, taking advantage of the moment to fold my arms against him, trapping them between the heat of our bodies, letting my cheek rest idly against his chest. Connor didn’t like me, I knew, but in the dark shed…well, it was easy to pretend.

It was always easy to pretend to be someone else with Connor.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on with you right now?” I said with a false bravado, thumping his chest lightly with my fist. “You can’t hide anything from me, Connor Murphy. I know you too well.”

“You don’t know anything, dumbass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, and I felt him lean forward to press his face into my hair. “You don’t know shit.”

“So you’re lying to me?” I baited with a smile, tapping his chest, feeling his frustrated sigh and rewarding him with a light laugh. “I didn’t think so. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I know,” he growled, sighing heavily, taking one hand off my back to push his hair away, before letting me go entirely to roll onto his back. His thin fingers covered his face, the black fingernails scratching frustratedly against his pale face. “I just–I don’t, I don’t know how to–shit.”

I leaned forward to tap his chest again, letting him know I was here. “Just talk it out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shocked me by reaching forward with one hand, knotting his fingers with my own and letting them linger against his chest. I was grateful he couldn’t make out my expression from his position, grateful for the fact he couldn’t feel my face flush. I’d never been this close with a boy in my life, and Connor knew that. He wasn’t being fair, and I was sure he knew that too.

Unless he didn’t. Connor had a bad habit of selling himself short. I bit back the urge to press a kiss to his bony knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. He was worse than I thought. “Um, it’s harder now? I guess. I trust you–I mean, I always trusted you. It’s um, it’s harder because the anonymity is gone, I guess? I’m worried now that you know who I am–what I am–you’re gonna get bored of me?”

I didn’t laugh this time. His voice was thick and rapid as if he couldn’t hold back the word vomit, like he’d been holding it back for a while. My own throat felt thick, and I couldn’t contain the guilty feeling in my stomach. I rolled forward, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, feeling his hip bone press against mine sharply. I was careful not to look at his face–it’d shut him down for sure.

“Connor…I need you just as much as you need me, you know that right?” I whispered, trying too hard not to let him hear the panic in my voice.

“I know,” he rasped shallowly, sounding oddly wet. He was crying, I realized stupidly. My heart constricted in my chest, my stomach dropping. He was in pain and I had barely noticed. This was all my fault.

“And even if I didn’t need to vent, if I didn’t need your support, I’d still talk to you because I like you, Connor. You’re my friend. You’re a good person,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” I continued. “You’re a great person and you’re always looking after me, even when you’re hurt. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, Connor, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice–”

“I’m not hurting! Shut up!”

“Shhhh,” I hushed, sitting up to remind him to be quiet. “You’re parents are gonna–”

His face was red. His nose and lips were swollen, wet, and his cheeks, flecked with silver freckles glowing lightly in the moonlight beam he laid in, and there were tear tracks running from the corners of his eyes.

“Connor,” I cried softly, reaching up to wipe his cheek. “Please–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he sobbed wetly, hands folding up to cover his face. “Just fucking get out, okay? This was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey,” I soothed frantically, reaching up to pet his hair, hoping that it might make him unfold himself. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna help, Connor, whatever you need. I want to help you, please.”

“I’m not your responsibility, kid, okay? You can leave. Stop looking at me, Christ.”

“No,” I sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. That’s okay. Just, let me stay, okay? I’m not judging you, I’m not gonna leave, I promise. I’m here for you. Let me be your friend.”

He shook underneath me, holding in sharp sobs. I wondered how long it’s been since he let himself fall apart like this, let himself have some kind of catharsis, let himself feel, period.

This relapse was good. It was under control. I was here. I had him.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. “Christ, just–don’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not. I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk.”

“Okay. Okay…thanks.”

I might have imagined it, as I lowered my head back to his chest, might have imagined in between the soft presses of his fingers as they moved in and out of my, might have imagined, just briefly, the feeling of his lips pressed against my hair.

———-

The next morning was awkward. My parents and siblings showed no knowledge of the fact I’d snuck out to see Connor last night–it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware we were friends, to my parents chagrin and the Murphys’ delight, but I didn’t need them to think we were involved in some sort of torrid tryst, especially one we weren’t even having.

I left a few hours after Connor had slowly ceased his wet and much needed lament and his breathing had turned into a soft snore. I untangled myself from his arms, and leaned back for awhile to watch him sleep, tried to ignore how angelic he looked, red faced and weepy with silver freckles glowing mutely in the patch of moonbeam.

I’d sent him a quick text to let him know I wanted to return before my parents woke up, let him know I’d be by the next day. Told him to  message me if he wanted to talk again.

Now I was waiting for my mother to finish grading my papers for the day so I could to see Connor, who didn’t have school today thanks to some silly teacher institute, lucky loser. The American school system was a joke, to be quite honest.

“You’re jumpy,” my mother noted, scribbling something in the margins of my paper without looking up at me.

“I was gonna ask if I could go over to the Murphy’s? I haven’t talked to Zoe in a long time,” I asked sheepishly, scratching at my arm.

“And Connor, hmm?” My mother hummed thoughtfully, giving a smirk to my workbook.

“Connor’s cool,” I said honestly, nonetheless feeling a guilty lump rise in my throat.

“He’s a good boy,” she mused. “He always helps me with groceries if he’s outside.”

“Which is never,” muttered one of the younger kids, earning a kick under the table from me. My mom just smiled softly.

“Go ahead, honey. Call if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”

I thanked her, nearly sprinting out the door, my twin braids slapping against my back as I skipped between the yards. Zoe was at the door before I knocked, leading me into the kitchen, announcing me loudly in a way that would’ve earned a talking to at my house.

Cynthia appeared in the doorway, looking radiant, albeit a bit tired. Her face smiled brightly at me.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long since you’ve stayed for dinner–Larry, tell Connor she’s here!–Zoe’s missed you, you should stay the night, right Zoe?–Larry, call Connor–Would that be alright with your parents? Stay for dinner then stay the night? I can run out and rent some movies and snag a pizza–Larry!

Zoe just rolled her eyes, yanking me down the steps past her mother and into the basement. Her grip on my arm was vice like, almost painful and definitely excessive. Her pretty red hair blew up in my face, making the already dark room even harder to see through the haze of her auburn locks. She practically shoved me onto the couch, following me by slamming down beside me.

“Zoe–”

“I saw you last night.”

My pulse hammered in my throat, and I felt all the blood rush swiftly to my face, making me dizzy.

“What?”

“I saw you. I told Mom. I don’t think Dad–”

“What do you mean?” I gasped, throwing my hands between us. Zoe blinked rapidly.

“You and Connor. In the shed. Last night. Christ, it was only ten, you could’ve been sneaky about it–”

“Zoe, we didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. God, if the Murphys knew, they’d tell my parents–

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. “Whatever, okay? You don’t have to tell me, I don’t give a shit as long as you aren’t pregnant. Just–because you’re my friend, I want you to know some things. Are you gonna listen?”

I thought better than to argue with Zoe, so I nodded shyly.

“Look, I know you and Connor are friends. That’s fine, whatever. But you don’t see Connor at school. You don’t see Connor here, not really. Not what he’s like when you aren’t here.”

I felt my heart constrict. She was going to try to convince me to stop talking to Connor.

“He’s mean. You don’t think it’s weird you’re his only friend? He’s a bully. He’s lazy. He’s violent, Christ–he’s my brother, I love him. But you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t take him seriously, okay? One day his temper is gonna flip and you’re gonna be in his way.”

I blinked, stunned that Zoe would say something so slanderous about her own brother.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, staring across at her. It was no wonder Connor was so upset, why he had to reach out to strangers on the Internet to vent. His own home was a war zone.

Zoe sighed heavily. “You aren’t at school. You don’t hear the rumors. You don’t see the things he does. If you wanna be friends, fine, but…be careful. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near your heart.”

I didn’t argue with Zoe–I thought better of it. So I just nodded.

“Thanks for, um. Thanks for the warning,” I said with a thick voice, struggling to maintain sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Mom thinks you’re dating. She’s over the moon. It’s disgusting.”

“I thought you thought we were dating,” I pried, raising an eyebrow. Zoe rolled her eyes, hitting me with a deadpan expression.

“As if Connor could ever get someone like you. As if Connor could even feel something remotely close to love–I’m half convinced his chest is an icebox,” she laughed dryly.

“Talking about me, are we?”

We both spun, wide eyed to see Connor on the stairs, arms folded.

“No, go ahead, I’ll wait. I love hearing stories about myself. Tell me again Zoe about how I’m in love with her?” He hissed, making my face burn red in shame. I felt awful for letting Zoe talk about him that way–worse because Connor made it painful clear he didn’t reciprocate any feelings I might’ve had for him.

Wait. I didn’t have feelings. Connor was a friend. A good friend. A friend who needs me and who doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, not until he’s okay. Not ever.

“Never said that,” Zoe said with a smirk, rising from the couch gracefully. “But keep digging your grave, it’s fun to watch.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” she grinned. “I’d love to watch your train wreck love admission, Titanic is on, and at least that story has a happy ending.”

Connor kept a white knuckled grip on the banister as she passed, as if holding in an urge to push her. He kept his blazing eyes downcast, and noted his pale cheeks were burning red.

“What’d she tell you?” He whispered once the door slammed.

“Nothing true,” I promised, leaning forward on the couch to make room for him, patting the seat beside me. “Nothing that changed my mind.”

His head snapped up, and I watched his expression go from rage to disbelief to awe before he descended the stairs, shaking. He stopped before the couch, as if scared to come near me, staring down in awe.

“What did my mom say to you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. She asked if I could spend the night. Only if you want me to, though.”

He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his face. “Only if I want you to, Christ, where did I find you?”

“The Internet,” I reminded, earning another laugh.

“Of course I want you to,” he sighed, finally coming to sit beside me. “Of course I want–”

He cut himself off, surprising me, before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened, but eventually melted against him, reminding myself that it was just Connor.

“You wanna watch a movie? I hear they’re playing Titanic or something.”


——

It’s two am when I wake up, taking a quick mental assessment of where I am. There’s a soft blue glow burning my eyes, shining over what appears to be a nest of blankets piled roughly on the floor.

The Murphy’s basement, I realized with a jolt, I’m just at the Murphy’s.

I’m in a pair of Connor’s pajamas–Zoe’s clothes don’t quite fit me right–an oversized black shirt and a pair of sweats Cynthia brought down in a laundry hamper. My braids have long since come loose, the desperate curls tangling wildly around my head.

Beside me, Zoe is snoring, almost comically, every so often a nostril whistles in time to the soft sound of Dexter’s Lab playing on the tv.

There’s a hand, dangling just above my head. The pale fingers were curved artistically, the nails too short as if they’ve been bitten recently and the black nail polish chipped hopelessly. It’s attached to an arm, long and thin, almost angular, and up farther is a shoulder, bare, pressed against a red coffee stained couch.

Connor.

“You’re awake,” he whispered in a conspiratory voice, but when I sat up to make contact, there’s no sly smirk. He’s frowning. “You are having trouble sleeping.”

I shook my head. “Stop worrying about me, Connor.”

“No,” he rasped, sitting up on the couch. I avoided looking too long at his bare chest, but regardless indulged nonetheless.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” I noted, coming to sit by him on the couch. He immediately opened the blanket, giving me room to slide in beside him, before throwing it around both of us so we could settle back against the couch. His bare skin was warm, and I let him take both my hands between his, letting him rub my hands between his in an attempt at some warmth.

“Been thinking too much,” he sighed softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, beginning to feel the effects of sleeplessness and helplessness melt together in a fatal concoction.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me, Connor,” I reminded him, pressing closer. “Let me help. What are you thinking about?”

He leaned away, as if I’d burned him, dropping my hands into his lap and looking away, the thin muscle of his cheeks hollowing as he clenched his jaw. “Can’t say.”

“Connor,” I pleaded. “Please let me help. I want to. I’m begging.”

“No,” he growled. I felt tears beginning to build, to my own horror, behind my eyes.

“Connor, can you just–”

You.”

It was an explosion. We both froze, turning in horror to glance at Zoe, waiting to breathe until we heard the soft whistle of her nose again. I turned slowly, terrified back to Connor. His eyes were wide, and if I didn’t have my fingers wrapped around his knee, I swore he might try to run.

“Me?” I asked softly, careful not to wake Zoe. Connor pursed his lips, his jaw twitching nervously.

“Fuck, yes, you, just–shit, I didn’t wanna say that–”

I leaned away, watching Connor’s face contort farther.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered heatedly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. You want me to go, right? I’m really sorry, Connor–”

“What?” He nearly yelled. “You think–fuck.”

His head ducked, to my great surprise, against my shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and, of all things, began to laugh.

“Connor–”

“You think–Christ, it’s like you aren’t even real. You think I’m mad at you?”

He pulled away, his face no longer red or swollen, just smiling softly at me, almost awe struck, and staring intently with his slate eyes.

“I…I’m not sure?” I whispered, but not feeling at all nervous when Connor snaked his hands gently up my arms again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered suddenly, shocking me. “And you have no idea that you’re perfect. Christ.”

I frowned. “Connor. I don’t…I don’t think I understand.”

But he was still looking at me–eyes scanning slowly over my face, landing suddenlyhalf-lidded on my lips, and it suddenly all clicked into place. Why Zoe would warn me. Why Cynthia acted the way she did. Why Connor was so scared in the first place.

I remember Zoe saying how over the moon Mrs. Murphy was at the idea of Connor and I dating–because that meant Connor would have me. It meant Connor would be happy.

It meant I would have Connor.

It was like a sudden dam had broken open inside me, filling me with more revelations as Connor’s hands lifted to cup the back of my head, his eyes soft, scared, and asking as they met mine. I let a quick exhale before I surged forward, slamming out mouths together much too forcefully, and not at all enjoyably.

I laughed–much too loud–but Connor kept back to the task at hand, his eyes closed in concentration, swallowing my outburst and folding me against his (very, very bare) chest and kissing me deeper, slower. It was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but so much about the kiss was still tender and important, warming me from my core outward until I was scratching to wind my arms around him, getting him as close to me as I possibly could, kissing back to make sure he knew how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him.

How much I needed him. Anything he needed, I’d give him. Now and forever and–

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it in the bathroom or something? I’m trying to sleep.”

Connor and I pulled apart–causing me to stumble backwards against the arm of the couch gracelessly and staring at Zoe as she rolled over with her back to us.

I dared a peek back at Connor, whose lips were pink and wet despite their dry skin splitting with the force of his wide, wide smile.  His eyes were glowing brightly, almost burning as he raked them over me. The flannel blanket was pooled behind his back where it had been wrapped around us, and he just simply opened his arms again, inviting me back. His pale chest–pock marked with freckles, clusters on his ribs–was striped with pink lines from where my fingers had raked in a desperate attempt to give him validation.

I crawled forward, pressing my face against his neck in a hazy attempt to bring my breathing back to a normal speed.

“You okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his shoulders, fighting the urge to word vomit an unholy collection of questions about who and what we were. Connor Murphy, post kiss. Connor Murphy, still life, smiling with wet, swollen, bloody lips. Connor Murphy standing at the edge of happiness, jumps over the ledge.

He nodded against me, fighting with his own dark curls where they made an attempt to cloud my cheeks in an adoring way. Cute, I decided.

“Okay? I’m,” he sighed, laughing and wrapping his arms around me to squeeze tightly. “I’m…you have no idea.”

“Better than nudes?” I teased. He snorted, embarrassed.

“I’m positive. Although–”

I hit him.

“Okay, kidding! Jeez…” he pulled away, cupping my face lightly, pushing the hair back out of my eyes like I was a child. It felt fantastic, he was right, as I searched through the galaxies in his eyes, his pale skin illuminated by the hazy blue glow of the television. It felt so far past amazing, being held like I was the only person he knew how to see. He cleared his throat, and I saw his eyes were brimming with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You, uh,” he laughed nervously under his breath. “You have to know I love you.”

It was a startling blow, knocking all the air out of me and forced a bubbling laugh to fly out of my lungs. Connor’s smile wavered slightly, so I popped up to press a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“I know,” I sighed, giddy with the realization it was true. “I know. And you know I trust you more than anyone. You know I love you.”

It was like watching him crack open, the way all the uncertainty was cleared from his face, a wave of joy and triumph.

“You love me?” He asked so softly, so awestruck, I felt my heart shake in my chest. I’d barely started to nod before he surged forward to kiss me again, small and chaste pecks across my face and neck, the bridge of my nose, my temples.

He was okay. We were okay. We were going to be just fine.

RWBY Build Q&A Summary

Lindsay Jones, Kara Eberle, Barbara Dunkelman and Arryn Zech answered questions about their characters, voice acting and volume 5 for BUILD series. 

  • They were asked what they loved about their characters. Barbara said she loves Yang’s passion and love for the people in her life, her drive and her ability to push through every situation.
  • Arryn said she loves Blake’s progress from the White Fang, because she has never really dealt with her problems and coming from volume 4 into volume 5 she now deals with them in a much healthier way and started to push forward.
  • Kara said she loves that Weiss progressed from just being a team member to being a teammate and that Weiss actually got nice (#weissgotnice), but also the background about which we are still finding out more and her complexity. Lindsay added that Weiss has found her soul.
  • Lindsay said that she loves how Ruby keeps pushing forward with her goals and keeps going, not only for herself but for her friends.
  • They were also asked how they want their characters to end up, but it was made very clear they are answering that question as fans who know nothing about what will happen, so everything is not canon and does not have to be what actually happens to the characters on the show. Barbara sad she wants Yang to come to her own even more. She always puts on that persona, trying to be brave for everyone and be a motherly person in their life. She wants Yang to continue that, but also find out who she is without other people.
  • Arryn said she wants Blake to fix the White Fang, but not become their leader, because she thinks Blake is a pusher, but not a leader in that sense. She also said she wants Blake to be representation for things she was very confused about in High School. (Well, and Arryn is bi. Me too, Arryn, me too. We all want that. Let’s just pray it will actually happen.)
  • Kara said she wants Weiss to take back her title as the heiress, take over Papa Schnee and be Queen Schnee.
  • Lindsay said she wants Ruby to have a moment of complete break where she can’t emotionally move forward, a bit like Yang in volume 4. She wants her to have that introspective moment and then let the team build her up again.
  • Monty was very conscious of cosplay, that’s why they make the outfits out of things you can buy and add pockets.
  • They were also asked what we can look forward to in volume 5. They said that the overall theme of volume 4 was confrontation and going back to what they should have dealt with before while being at school, now volume 5 is about growth and learning, rebuilding and trying to get the team back together. (So I think RWBY will reunite, yeah!)
  • They record their lines alone, but sometimes they do table reads or practice together, more so in earlier volumes when they all still worked at RT. They have a bigger recording booth now, so maybe they will be able to record scenes together in the future.

They also talked about voice acting, Monty, seeing fanart and cosplayers at cons.

Too Much

MASTERLIST

Requested: no A/N: I’m in Norway so this is a planned post. p>

Word count: 2,239

Originally posted by smendesgifs


My back was resting against the soft, white pillow. I pulled the covers higher, covering my entire body. I felt cold, but it had nothing to do with the temperature in the bedroom, it was all about the enormous fight Shawn and I had earlier. Fighting with him always made me feel so cold, so tired and completely drained from any sort of energy. I was reading a book or at least trying to, but I hardly managed to read a single page.

Honestly, I just needed something to distract me from the fact that Shawn had left the apartment in anger and I hadn’t heard from him since.

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Heart Doodles

Bucky x reader

Summary: You probably shouldn’t let Tony borrow your notebook.

Warnings: nothing? a moment of slight embarrassment but it’s not too bad.

Word Count: 1921

A/N: boop.

Originally posted by there-and-always-back-again

It’s honestly a miracle if everyone is fully prepared at the mission briefings. There’s always at least one person who walks in after the meetings start and it’s common that at least a couple people forgot pens or paper. On more than one occasion you planned to just grab a bunch of blank notebooks and extra pens from the supply closet and pile them in the center of the table. Though knowing the group, they’d end up taking it all from the room and still forget to bring it back next time. People love taking office supplies and the Avengers are no different.

Though to be fair, they have a lot to deal with on a regular basis between capturing lingering HYDRA agents, keeping extra-terrestrial threats at bay, and repairing their relationships with each other post-Accords. So maybe they have enough on their minds without having to remember to put a pen in their pocket so Steve doesn’t look so exasperated during meetings.

Tony always has a pencil stuck behind his ear. Always. But he can’t remember to bring a notebook to save his life. So you–being the lucky Stark employee that gets to sit in on mission briefings to take notes–started to just slide your personal 3-subject notebook to your boss. You carry it around with you all the time anyway to keep track of your daily random thoughts. Most pages hold little doodles, snippets of ideas you want to use in short stories, and probably too many lists of songs you’ve organized into themed playlists. It isn’t anything too personal, so you usually don’t have a problem with lending it to him.

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