it would have been better if were the same as the book

Something happened 63 years ago that’s haunted me my entire life. I’ve never told anyone about it—until now

Story by reddit user  Sergeant_Darwin

It’s official: I’m an old man.

For the last couple years, I’ve comforted myself by saying I’m in my “early 70s,” but math is simple and unforgiving. Today is my 75th birthday, and God, the years do fly.

I’m not here for your well wishes; this is hardly a milestone I’m excited about. I’m glad to still be here, of course, but I find I have less and less to live for with every passing year. My bones ache, my kids live far away, and the other side of my bed has been empty for just over eight months now. In fact, once I cast my vote against that goddamned Trump this November, I may have nothing to live for at all.

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Sweet-Talker

Or, How Bucky Won Over The Hammer Of Thor.

(Here on AO3) 

Thor enjoyed the pleasant fragrances of Midgardian soaps. The one in the common-floor bathroom was labelled “Lavender Daydream” and was tinted a mild purple. It had a gentle floral scent with a slightly acrid undertone, and Thor wondered absently if Midgard had an actual plant named lavender, or if it was like blue-flavored drinks, with no non-artificial analogue. With Midgard, there was no way to tell. Regardless, it was a pleasing scent, and Thor would enjoy the soothing scent and gentle moisturizing properties of the liquid. 

Midgard was such a fascinating world. 

Thor toweled his hands dry and stepped out of the bathroom, intending to head towards the kitchen. Bruce had left some curry in the fridge, and Thor wanted to test his mettle against his perennial foe, the spicy pepper. 

He took one imperious stride into the common room and tripped. He caught himself on lavender-scented palms, just shy of sprawling flat on his face on the carpet. 

Sitting innocently in the middle of the hallway was Mjolnir. 

Strange. He was sure he’d left his hammer on the sofa. 


kingofmemes posted:

common room rules state that anything unlabeled is fair for anyone to use. shoulda put a sticky note on your mythological weapon of unimaginable power before you left it on my seat buddy

Posted at 3:23 pm, 4729 notes

(Read More below)

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I'm On My Knee

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

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

I’m On My Knee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Imagine Mary realizing both of her sons, Sam and Dean, are in love with the same girl, you.

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

Originally posted by soluscheese

“Morning.” Sam mumbled as he walked into the kitchen and saw you, Mary and Castiel there, you still cooking the pancakes and her setting everything else up for breakfast with Castiel’s help.

“Morning sweetie.” Mary smiled up at him as he leaned down to kiss her cheek before he turned to take a good look at you.

“Wow” he breathed out and you looked at him for a second before in the end giggling as you tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“What?” you asked, looking up at the older man as he blinked rapidly, staring at you almost awestruck. You glanced at his mother that was still there but luckily was not looking at the two of you.

“You just- I never thought you’d look this good in my clothes.” he said with an adorable dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

You laughed looking back at the food, after glancing down at yourself for a moment. You weren’t in the mood for trying really hard so along with the messy hair you had stolen one of Sam’s flannels that could work as a dress for you and wore it. It was a nice chance compared to you wearing always Dean’s shirts. There was something similar in this, both their clothes made you feel at peace, they had a certain scent to them that brought the same kind of comfort their hugs did but at the same time that scent was so different. And it reminded you instantly of whose clothes you were wearing.

“Thanks” you bit your lip, opting to look only at the pancakes as you felt your cheeks heat up. You had a soft spot for the younger Winchester, you couldn’t deny that, you were really close and had many things in common. He was sweet and kind, gentle and caring. You knew that when you needed to talk to someone he would always be there for you. You were like a little sister to him, as far as you knew at least, even if for you he meant a lot more than just family. But you weren’t going to do something to risk what you had, you’d much rather bottle up your feelings than ruin all of this.

Besides, he wasn’t the only one involved in all of this.

“But- if you want it back I could give it. I’m sorry I didn’t ask I just- it looked too comfy and I-” you started rambling, trying to find an excuse for yourself but he shook his head.

“No, no no!” he said a little too fast and you bit your lip at his reaction “By all means-” he breathed out “-You can keep it, it looks better on you anyway.” he said adorably and you grinned.

“Thank you Sammy.” you stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, making his smile even wider.

“So- what do you want with your pancakes, you didn’t tell me?” you asked and he paused in thought for a moment.

“Uhm I think I’ll go with some eggs today.” he paused in thought.

“Do you want me to make them?” you asked, ready to start on them already but he shook his head with a laugh.

“No you already do enough for us.” he pecked your forehead “I’ll do that myself.” he winked and started working on them next to you as you still laughed and chatted happily.

“You know I love taking care of you anyway.” you mumbled with a shy shrug and he smiled warmly.

“Yes, and I know it. But it’s not bad if you take a break once in a while and let us do all the work.” he said matter of factlyand you just shrugged “You know you deserve it.”

“Not as much as you guys do honestly I-” you shook your head, flipping another pancake.

“Dare you complete that sentence.” it was Dean’s stern voice but the moment you looked at him he had a small smile on. You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to win this fight against both of them so you just shook your head.

Oh and he also happened to be the other person involved.

“Morning guys.” he greeted as he kissed Mary and came towards you, not missing a chance to wrap his arms around your waist.

A small squeak left your lips as he pressed his body against yours and you both chuckled in the end as he kissed the back of your head “Damn smells amazing.” he breathed out as he looked over at the pancakes.

“Thought you’d like them, and in case you are not really into pancakes today I made some cherry pie for you.” you smirked and he looked at you with a wide grin.

“Gosh” he breathed out with wide eyes that made him look like a little kid on Christmas day “Marry me!” he grinned and you laughed.

“You’d have to take me out first, Winchester!” you said as you heard him laugh as he squeezed you, burying his face in your hair.

“Anytime princess.” he mumbled, nuzzling his face before in the end he leaned down and kissed your neck.

You giggled as his morning scruff tickled you and you turned your head to peck his cheek, making him smile down at you. It felt so refreshing to see him like this. It has been such a long while since you saw Dean so carefree.

Of course you had gotten the chance to see him relax sometimes, when it was just the two of you and he’d let loose, but those moments were rare. It mostly was you holding him as you either sat in silence or he talked to you about a nightmare- or whatever was worrying him at the moment.

Your relationship with Dean was different from that of Sam. While with Sam you were all playful, most of the time, and acted all cute together: watching movies, reading books and talking about all kinds of nerdy stuff your relationship with Dean was more contact and less words. You’d spent many nights in each other’s rooms just holding each other, gazing into each other’s eyes like some love-sick couple – well you were love sick you couldn’t deny it at least to yourself – and only sometimes talking. Dean wasn’t really a man of words so when it came to just the two of you he talked about only the things that troubled him. But even the few words were enough for you to get a look into his world. Heck, the mere fact that he trusted you with his thoughts and feelings was enough to let you know how important you were to him.

Of course there were serious moments with Sam as well, he too trusted you with his worries as well, and as that there were funny moments with Dean. Both brothers were very similar but at the same time your relationship with each of them was completely different. Each one of them completed a side of you that in returned completed them as well.

“Hey you two-” Sam’s voice got Dean’s attention. You looked at him to, luckily, see he had a small smile on his face “You’re not alone alright?”

“Sadly” Dean added and you giggled as Sam shot him a bitch-face.

“Why don’t you prove yourself useful and and prepare some bacon huh?” Sam obviously found an excuse to get him away from you.

“Oooh yes, love me some bacon!” Dean said with a glint in his eyes and you chuckled at how childish he was being.

“But first-” he said cupping your face as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, his lips much like Sam’s previously lingered a little longer than they should have. He looked down into your eyes, exactly like Sam had done, and offered you one last gentle smile before going back to playful him and started working on his bacon.

The three of you still talked and laughed as you had each Winchester on each side of you. Her sons’ laughter caught Mary’s attention and this time she took a real good look at the three of you. For a second she smiled fondly at how childlike you were all being, happy that her kids looked so carefree around you, but when realization downed on her hersmile faded away.

“Mary?” Castiel’s low voice caught her attention as she looked at the angel.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a small frown.

“Should I be Castiel?” she sighed sadly “I mean, how can I even be? At first I was happy about Dean but now- seeing this-Knowing that my one son’s happiness depends on the other’s grief- how can I be happy?”

“What- what do you mean?” Castiel frowned with a tilt of his head and she looked from the three of you to him.

“I thought seeing my sons fall in love would be something great. I just didn’t know it was going to be with the same girl.”

MAKE ME ADMIT STUFF

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?
2. You talked to an ex today, correct?
3. Have you taken someones virginity?
4. Is trust a big issue for you?
5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?
6. What are you excited for?
7. What happened tonight?
8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?
9. Is confidence cute?
10. What is the last beverage you had?
11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?
12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?
13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?
14. What are you going to spend money on next?
15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?
16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?
17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?
18. The last time you felt broken?
19. Have you had sex today?
20. Are you starting to realize anything?
21. Are you in a good mood?
22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?
23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?
24. What do you want right this second?
25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?
26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?
27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?
28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?
29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?
30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?
31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?
32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?
33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?
34. Listening to?
35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?
36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?
37. Do you believe in love at first sight?
38. Who did you last call?
39. Who was the last person you danced with?
40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?
41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?
42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?
43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?
44. Do you tan in the nude?
45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?
46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?
47. Who was the last person to call you?
48. Do you sing in the shower?
49. Do you dance in the car?
50. Ever used a bow and arrow?
51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?
52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?
53. Is Christmas stressful?
54. Ever eat a pierogi?
55. Favorite type of fruit pie?
56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
57. Do you believe in ghosts?
58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?
59. Take a vitamin daily?
60. Wear slippers?
61. Wear a bath robe?
62. What do you wear to bed?
63. First concert?
64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
65. Nike or Adidas?
66. Cheetos Or Fritos?
67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?
69. Ever take dance lessons?
70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
71. Can you curl your tongue?
72. Ever won a spelling bee?
73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
74. What is your favorite book?
75. Do you study better with or without music?
76. Regularly burn incense?
77. Ever been in love?
78. Who would you like to see in concert?
79. What was the last concert you saw?
80. Hot tea or cold tea?
81. Tea or coffee?
82. Favorite type of cookie?
83. Can you swim well?
84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?
85. Are you patient?
86. DJ or band, at a wedding?
87. Ever won a contest?
88. Ever have plastic surgery?
89. Which are better black or green olives?
90. Opinions on sex before marriage?
91. Best room for a fireplace?
92. Do you want to get married

The Dress

Hey guys! This is an imagine about the reader doing her best to tease her friend, Tom, because she’s unsure of his feelings for her, in a really hot dress. I’m not even going to lie to you, this story is pure smut? The middle is soft and sweet, but everything else is ?porn? I hope you like it!

The Dress

She and Tom had been ambling through the various art exhibits at her city’s center since before ten A.M., and after they were invited to a lavish restaurant with a group of their friends, she insisted that she change her clothes. From a simple, floral sundress, she slipped into something a little more uncomfortable while Tom waited in her living room, doing his best to keep his integrity and not to sneak a peek. Truth be told, he thought that she looked beyond fine in her sundress. The back dipped low and he could tell that she didn’t have a bra on, plus the flowing fabric of the dress shifted around as she walked and Tom enjoyed flashes of her smooth legs. She looked sweet and innocent, and there was something absolutely perverse in Tom that just wanted to mess it up. Alas, they had chosen to take it slow, so take it slow he tried.

    As soon as they had met, Tom knew that she was the only girl for him, but as of then, she wanted to focus solely on her education. He understood, of course, seeing as her schooling was on the same level of importance as his acting, and he didn’t want to disturb her. He couldn’t bare to be without her once he had began to know her, so he settled for being her friend, but he was positive that it was slowly killing him.

    She was the most kind-hearted person that he had ever come across, always doing what was needed to help others. Beyond that, he’s made the mistake of accompanying her on her trip across town to babysit her cousin’s children where he discovered that she was also the most nurturing soul out there. During their stay at her cousin’s home, he had watched as she simplified Philip Roth’s, ‘A Defender of the Faith,’ into terms so easily understood that four year olds could pick apart the intended theme. Beyond that, she answered all of their questions, even the ones that had him snorting under his breath, with complete respect and sincerity. It was right then that he could feel himself drifting into the haze love with her.

    He felt his heart warm towards her again when they went out for dessert and she took a bite of her sundae, eyes blissfully shut as her lips closed over the chilled spoon. As soon as her lashes fluttered open, she offered Tom the next bite. Ever since then, sharing had been their thing and it was hurling him into love with her.

    She wore his clothes, always giving them back smelling of her perfume. He borrowed her favorite books, films, and favorite places in the city to hide out and be alone. Time and time again, when he was in immediate need of a vehicle and couldn’t find one to rent fast enough, she had handed over her car keys without a second thought. Tom smiled as he waited for her to get dressed, fiddling with the ginormous copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, a personal favorite of theirs to read.

In her room, she stood between two options. One dress was wholesome and cute, a typical outfit of hers, and the other was daring, sultry and, for lack of a better word, tiny. She hopelessly coveted Tom’s affection, but she was unsure of how to obtain it. Sure they had flirted from time to time, but she wanted to make him want her indefinitely, and if the dress would help her accomplish that, than so be it. He was all that was in her heart and all she wanted to do was to immerse him in love. Her best friend had encouraged her to purchase the dress for this very reason, and she refused to let something so pretty rot in the back of her closet. Slipping on some high heels and adding another coat of mascara, she exited her room.

“Are you ready, my love?” Tom called as he listened for the sound of heels clicking against her wood floors. He turned around and saw her before she could respond.

    She looked so lusciously risque that Tom couldn’t even form an eloquent thought in his brain. In the crest if the hallway, she stood in front of him wearing a dress so small and delicate that Tom was certainly convinced he could tear off her body using only his teeth, and sweet heavens, oh how he wanted to.

    “Holy mother of fucking hell,” Tom hissed through gritted teeth, “you’re going to fucking kill me, babydoll.”

    Truth be told, her dress had been located in the lingerie section of the store, but after sending photos of the dress to practically every contact in her phone, despite Tom, she decided it was approved nightwear. People wore less and got away with it all the time, she thought.

She was dressed in a soft, blush-toned, silk nightie that barely reached the top of her thighs. The straps were made of lace and the front dipped low so low that if she were to bend down to touch the floor, the dress would move to reveal her bellybutton. Her back was exposed, seeing as the nightie was backless and she’d made sure to get the next size up so it would be just baggy enough to show a little side-boob. The heels she wore were tall and nude, and they elongated her legs so well that they looked endless.

“Ready?” She chirped, making a show of swinging her hips as she walked past Tom, eager to unveil her dress’s scandalous lack of backing. She heard him mumble unintelligible curses once more.

“You, are you, wearing, you’re going to wear that out?” Tom asked as he locked the door, realizing that there was absolutely no way that he was going to make it through dinner with her when she was practically naked in front of him. He knew it was not his place, or anyone’s place, to dictate what she wore, but he was seriously concerned for his sanity at this point. He was either going to need to leave early or masturbate in the bathroom.

She cocked her head to the side to gaze up at him through her lower lashes, “yes, Tom,” she said, placing her hands on his chest, “why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it?” She knew full well that she was laying it on thick, but she was determined to break him down.

He swallowed thickly. She was looking at him how he always imagined she’d look at him in bed. Her eyes were glossed over, she rolled her lower lip beneath her teeth, her chest moved rapidly up and down, she smelled like freshly picked daisies and Tom knew he was so beyond fucked. Was she doing this to him on purpose?

“I just don’t want you to be cold is all,” he stuttered out, which was true, but not his only unease about her napkin of a dress.

She’d thought this out as well. It had come to her understanding that Tom liked to see her in his clothes, so she smiled up at him, leaning even closer if humanly possibly and with her lips pressed an inch away from the base of his throat, uttered, “could I borrow your jacket? I don’t have one that’ll go with my outfit, but I really like yours.”

Tom coughed, “yeah, of course you can, sweet girl,” before removing his jean jacket and draping it across her shoulders, praying that she would at least button it up.

Curling her arms around Tom in a hug, she whispered words of thanks and left his coat perched gently atop her shoulder blades. She turned and began to make her way down the apartment complex’s hallway, not waiting for Tom to catch up.

“I’m going to die,” he mumbled before readjusting his jeans and hurrying after her.

On the walk there, she had teased him like no other, and Tom was becoming not only extremely hot, but very bothered.

First, she’d paused and asked him if he could check to see if her buckle on her heels was broken. She had rationed that she would do it herself, but her dress was too short. Once he’d knelt down, she’d shifted so that her leg was lifted almost over his shoulder and ruffled her hands through his hair, claiming that she needed to steady herself so she didn’t fall. She let out at airy groan as soon as his hand curled over her ankle to hold her still, brushing off his raised eyebrows as her just being sleepy. Tom had gotten a clear look at the white, lace panties she was wearing by accident, but he suspected she had done moved just so he would see.

Then, she had asked him if he could hold her phone for her, seeing as she had forgotten her bag. When Tom said that he could, she ignored his outstretched palm and slipped her phone directly into his jean pocket herself. Frankly, Tom was getting a little pissed off.

To make matters worse, when they rode up in the elevator together to reach the restaurant, they’d unluckily gotten stuck on the busiest ride. When he crowded into the corner, she had made sure to rub her bum against the bulge in his jeans the entire way up, apologizing when they got to their floor, telling him that she was just too close to the man in front of her. At this point, Tom knew better. He didn’t know what she was playing at, but he was going to demand to be informed as soon as they were alone.

He’d just have to make it through dinner.

    However, Tom couldn’t even make it through the appetizers before he demanded to speak with her alone. Their friends had taken notice to her attire immediately after she took off his coat because it was so different than what she normally wore and had teased the pair throughout the entirety of their time together.

    Everyone was well aware of their feelings for one another, and did their best to mush them together as often as possible. Due to their party being so large, she was practically sat on Tom’s lap and she offered him food straight from her fork, which wasn’t unusual for them, it just felt different tonight. There was nowhere Tom could put his hands without touching her bare skin and he’d just about lost his mind.

    Securing a firm hand around her waist, Tom yanked her back roughly against his chest, “we’re going out outside right now.” They were sat so close together that Tom could hear her heart beat faster.

    “Why?” She asked, her brow furrowing.

    Tom stood, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her away from their meal, “are you honestly asking me why?” He scoffed, grumbling out a half-assed lie about where and the reason that they needed to leave. Tom was all too prepared to endure the taunts from their friends, he didn’t care anymore.

    He led her through the sea of people, pushing past without a single ‘excuse me.’ Tom knew that he was being a dick but he didn’t have it in him to care. If she wanted to make it her mission to provoke him, as she clearly had, Tom was sure as hell going to let her know that she succeeded.

    As soon as they were far enough away from the crowd to not be overheard, he whipped around and exclaimed, “what the fuck is this about? Have I done something to you? Have you lost your mind?” Tom began to pace up and in front of her, “like I know you must realize what you’re doing to me?”

    All of her bashfulness returned. Teasing Tom all day had honestly worked her up too. He made her feel so wanted, and thoughts of him touching her and her touching him had wormed their way into her mind throughout their evening. She’d never thought that he would confront her about her actions, and now that he was, and he looked so good doing it, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

    “What do you mean?” She asked, focusing on the uneven sidewalk rather than to meet Tom’s gaze.

    Sighting a cramped corridor near behind a closed shop, Tom took ahold of her hand and dragged her into the corridor’s cover. Now, they wouldn’t be seen by anyone as long as they were quiet.

    He breathing hard and he knew he was pressed into her and she could feel his hardness poking against her leg. “Darling, don’t you dare play like that. I swear I’ll lose my mind,” he raked a hand through his hair, “well, more than I already have.”

    She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, knowing that as of right now, she could either be brave and possibly turn their friendship into something much larger, or she could apologize and have things stay the same. Harrison had mentioned that Tom had feelings for her right after they’d met, so she prayed that he still did.

    She fluttered her long eyelashes and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. “Do you want me?” She asked, doing her best to make her voice as sultry as she could.

    Tom was hesitant to move from her touch. She smelled like freshly picked flowers, he could feel her breasts rise and fall with her intake of breath, and she was looking up at him through her lashes with parted lips and it was too much for him to handle. “What do you mean?”

    Her next sentence was almost impossible for her to choke out. She was losing her confidence, did he really not know what she meant or was he playing dumb to avoid hurting her feelings? “Do you wanna kiss me?” She averted her eyes before quickly adding, “it’s okay if you don’t.”

    “Sweetheart,” Tom started and she stumbled away from him, not even waiting to hear what he had to say.

    “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” She stuttered, ignoring his pleas for her to come back to him. She couldn’t believe that she had just spent the entire night humiliating herself.

    Tom jogged down the street after her, thanking the universe that the heels she wore were so high that she couldn’t really move too quickly without falling over. He curled a soft hand around her arm, pulling her back into his chest.

    “You didn’t stop and listen to me,” Tom chided, before wrapping another arm around her to keep her in place. “What I was going to ask you is where this is all coming from? You said you didn’t want anything other than friendship, and I don’t want this to be just a one night thing. You mean too much to me for that. I’m just confused is all.”

    “I wanna be with you, Tom, isn’t that obvious? I really like you, and I just thought that if you didn’t like me, maybe this would help?” Her eyes were tearing, her brain was melting and her hands shook. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but him.

    Tom let out a belly laugh, “what are you talking about? Of course I like you, I’ve been telling my mum for months that I love you! This is ridiculous, you didn’t need to do all this!” Tom exclaimed, his words not registering in his mind until a soft ‘oh’ fell from her lips.

    “Can, could, you, do you want to say that again?” She stammered, covering his lips tenderly with her own before Tom even had a chance to respond. Breaking away almost as soon as she started, she took his cheeks in her palms and whispered, “I love you.”

    Everything was happening so rapidly, and Tom firmly grasped her waist and pulled her in to kiss him. They made-out so furiously on the sidewalk that they got numerous honks and catcalls from passing cars and bikers alike.

    Tom groaned into her mouth when her body brushed up against the hardness constricted by his black jeans. “I love you and I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, but I swear to god darling, if we keep at this, I’m going to ruin these pants.”

    She kissed the corner of his mouth before taking his hand and pulling him behind the corridor Tom had found a few minutes before. As soon as the corridor’s pillars provided them coverage, she sank to her knees in front of Tom. “I’ve never done this before, so you’re going to have to teach me.”

    “No, no, I didn’t mean that you had to do this, not if you don’t want to,” Tom said, urging her to get up as the image of her on her knees for him made his jeans even tighter, if that was even possible anymore. He couldn’t imagine her doing it to him here, well he could, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated to suck him off before she was ready, especially seeing as this was her first time.

    “Tom,” she said, without budging, “I want to. I think about it all the time.”

    He cursed again, the thought of her getting off to thoughts of him was almost too much. Tom palmed himself through his jeans.

    “Just tell me how you want me,” She said, her voice sounding as Tom imagined silk would feel against his skin.

    “Fuck,” he mumbled, “you’re sure? If you wanna stop, just say so and I’ll be okay with it.” Tom bent down to kiss her, already planning to reciprocate back at her apartment. “I’m not going to last long because you’ve been prancing around nearly naked all night long.”

    A blush spread across her cheeks as she began to undo his jeans.

    Tom moaned as soon as she touched him, and he moaned even louder when the warmth of her mouth slid down his length. “Fucking hell, baby,” he rasped out, begining to instruct her on how to take him.

    After about ten minutes, he was done. He was struggling to still his hips and his hands had tangled themselves into her shiny locks, and Tom knew that he was going to finish. He swore that if she gagged again, he’d blow right there.

    “You’ve done so well, sweetheart,” Tom groaned, removing a hand from her hair to place it on the hollows of her cheek. “Let me finish it.”

    She didn’t halt her movements but Tom could tell that she was confused. At this point, she was taking him so deep that he could feel her fluttering lashes against his skin.

    “No, darling, I’m going to cum. If you don’t wanna swallow, you need to stop.” Tom advised, not having the willpower to move away from her heavenly mouth.

    On that note, she started bobbing her head even faster, and taking Tom so far back that he was almost positive he was going to hit the back of her throat. He cursed, unable to form a coherent sentence, all he could think of her how good she felt. A moment later, he came down her throat, and she sucked him off even through that.

    When she released him from the slickness of her mouth, the first thing Tom did was bend down to kiss her swollen lips. “I fucking love you,” he groaned breathlessly.

    Her eyes closed and she drifted into the warmth of his touch, “tell me again.” And Tom did, helping her to her feet and removing the jean jacket she’d given back to him at the restaurant. Tom helped her slide it on and buttoned it up almost all the way.

    He kissed her nose, “what do you want to do, my love?”

    She beamed shyly up at him, “can we go home and do it again?”

    Tom pressed an openmouthed kiss to her neck, “oh yeah, baby, you haven’t had your turn yet.”

   


Nothing More [ IV ] [ Final ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 3k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Part One: x Part Two: x  Part Three: Alternate Ending: x

Originally posted by angel-in-slow-motion

It was terrifying how much could change in a year. To think that just a few short weeks could change everything about you was daunting, but true. When you had left life felt like torture, like everywhere you looked there was something waiting to mock you. You were broken, your heart all but ashes when you boarded the first flight away, but you knew it was what you needed to do. You needed time away from it all to figure out what you wanted, to figure out who you were without all of the things you’d grown so used to. It was hard, leaving it all behind, like you just gave away a piece of yourself with no plans of ever getting it back.

Loving Byun Baekhyun was hard, but letting that love go, was harder.

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Skyline {VI}

Originally posted by tomhollanderr

Warnings: Language, blood mention, panic attack

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Oh my god you guys!!  I have so much to discuss but first and foremost I want to thank all of you for making this story into what it is.  I started this story two weeks ago and in those two weeks I’ve gained almost 2000 followers and have had success that I never even dreamed of.  Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me, for this story, and hopefully for stories I write in the future!!! Skyline wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys.  Secondly, there will be a pt. 7!!!  I know I keep saying this, but I really did mean for this to be the last part.  It’s just that there are so many things I want to include and plot points I want to flesh out, and although I feel bad for writing angst chapter after angst chapter, I want to give you guys my all and I don’t want to short change you.  Finally, I would like to thank my friends Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas and helping finalize details and plot points.  I love you guys so so much!!  Also, everyone, again, I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!! I put this at the beginning of every chapter, it’s in my bio, and I’ve made multiple posts but people keep spamming me about it.  I am truly not trying to be mean, but I do my best to respond to every ask and message I get, and having to sort through a million people asking the same question is hard guys!!!.  Before, I go, one last thing: because everyone has sent me in songs that they listen to that remind them of Skyline, I compiled them into a playlist along with ones I listen to!!  Please give it a listen and try to listen in order, as the songs follow the storyline.  Link is below.  Enjoy everyone!!

skyline: a mixtape

{part i} {part ii} {part iii} {part iv} {part v} 

Waking up the next morning was hard.  Sleep was like temporary amnesia, and when you awoke alone in bed, your hand automatically reached out for the note that Spider-Man always left before he disappeared every night.  Instead of feeling the usual smooth sheet of paper, however, you felt empty sheets that seemed colder than ever before.  It was then that the events of the previous night tumbled into your head, from your request to know Spider-Man’s identity, to him saying I love you for the first time, to you giving him up.

You groaned and rubbed your hand across your face, fatigue taking over.  More than anything, you wanted to fake an illness, stay in bed all day, and wallow in your thoughts, but you knew you had to get up. Although the breakup hurt you (did it count as a breakup if you were never really together in the first place?), you knew you made the right choice.  There was no way a relationship with a superhero would work out if the significant other didn’t know who they were; if you were to fall in love, you would need to be able to fall completely.

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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.

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The Photograph

Hi babes! This is a fluffy oneshot about Peter having a crush on one of Michelle’s friends at Midtown High. One day, he spots her reading outside and secretly takes a photo of her because he thinks that she looks too perfect to go unseen, and he pins the photo up in the back of his locker. Everything is fine until Flash Thompson gets his hands on Peter’s photo and brings it to her attention. After that, awkward cuteness ensues and I hope that you all like it!

The Photograph

Hot licks of pain seared throughout Peter’s body. His lip was split, there was a purpling bruise on his temple that was accompanied by a headache so powerful that it’s aching refused to be ignored. Even walking from class to class was taking a toll on Peter. He was exhausted and in pain, but Peter remained hellbent on keeping Queens safe, no matter the cost.  

    Peter’s eyes glazed over and his body was ready to shut down. Doing his best to keep himself up on his feet, he focused on the photo that he had tacked up of her in the back of his locker.

    In the photo, the girl was outside, hidden beneath the shade of a rather large tree. She was stretched out on a light pink blanket, a copy of Charles Baudelaire’s, ‘The Flowers of Evil,’ open in front of her. There was a carton of fresh strawberries and a rather oversized iced coffee balanced haphazardly against her backpack on the ground with her, and every so often, Peter recalled how delightedly blissful she looked each time she bit into a ripe berry. The sun’s rays, the soft breeze wandering through the tree’s leaves, and the chatter bumbling down to her from their shared high school didn’t even faze the girl. Her mind remained with the poet’s.

    After a few minutes of watching her, Peter felt soothed. Everything about her made him feel better. He loved the way she licked her lips after she ate, he loved the way that she read her favorite verses aloud, he loved the way that she laughed at herself when she nearly spilled her coffee, and he loved the way that she helped him forget about the constant stress that was now heavily present in his life.

    When Peter finally snapped the photo, she was laying on her side, one hand wound into her silky hair to keep it out of her eyes, and the other hand holding her poetry book open. Her eyes were focused on comprehending the poems on each page, but she wore a soft smile on her lips that made it clear that she wasn’t scrutinizing anything too intensely. The girl was merely enjoying her free period in the sun and Peter longed to do the same.

    Since then, Peter looked for her in almost every hallway, in every classroom window, and everyday at lunch. They’d spoken a handful of times, seeing as they were in the same history class, but other than class discussions, Peter hadn’t mustered up the nerve to say hello outside of an intellectual, in-class debate.

    One day, she was late to history and when she’d walked into the room, she found that her normal seat next to the window had been taken, so she headed towards the first empty desk she saw. Peter, already occupying one of the seats, nearly suffered a heart attack when she placed her binder next to his and offered him a quiet “good morning.”

    It had taken Peter a few seconds to force his brain to form a response to her and then to get his mouth to open and say the words that his brain was attempting to communicate back to her. When he stuttered out, “hey, yeah, good morning,” she didn’t tease him for his weirdness, instead she smiled at him and Peter could’ve melted onto the floor right then and there.

    During that day’s lecture, their teacher was detailing women’s struggles throughout the years to gain the 19th amendment, which won women of all colors, and social standings the right to vote. She scribbled down notes and nodded in agreement with the teacher as she spoke of Ida B. Well’s, Lucy Burns’ and Alice Paul’s courageous actions in the suffrage movement. It was only after Flash Thompson opened his mouth that Peter observed a frown cross over her features.

    “Why didn’t they just keep doing what Florence Kelley advised? If they had followed her directions, they wouldn’t have gotten radical and thrown into prison. Florence Kelley was meeting with President Woodrow Wilson, and he explained to her why he couldn’t grant women suffrage right then, but he said he would going forward. The National Women’s Party didn’t know what they were doing, and furthermore, they set the women’s rights movement back with their crazy antics.” Flash finished, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

    Glancing over at the girl in the chair next to him, Peter knew that not only was Flash painfully incorrect and uneducated, but she was clearly getting ready to put Flash back into his place.

    “Wow, that’s actually so, so, so wrong.” She started, turning slightly in her chair to face Flash, “if Florence Kelley had kept asking President Wilson to recognize women as intelligent, reasonable beings capable of making a decisive decision, it’s unlikely that the 19th amendment would’ve been passed in 1920. The only reason women were granted suffrage is because of The National Woman’s Party. These women marched, were beaten in the streets, picketed in front of the White House, and were thrown into jail for the good of women everywhere. President Wilson only granted women the right to suffrage after women were dying in prison due to the hunger strike Alice Paul began. Not to mention, while these women were imprisoned, they were denied basic human rights and the entire reason they were in locked away in jail was because they were blocking traffic on the sidewalk. It took drastic measures to humanize women in men’s eyes and without the heroic antics of these women, who knows where women would stand today. I mean, a woman’s right to her own body is something that could be taken away at any moment, and women are constantly battling the image that men have imposed upon us. Therefore, your opinion is invalid because you apparently cannot grasp the severity of the situation, past and present.”

    Peter, as well as the rest of the class, was stunned into silence. Normally, she didn’t partake in class discussions because she was shy, but now that she had, everyone in the room was shocked by the intellect that she had just destroyed Flash with. Peter wanted nothing more than to hear her speak all day, and maybe to introduce her to Aunt May.

    Peter could barely focus as Michelle began to back her up. Leaning closer to the wonderfully insightful girl next to him, Peter let her know just how clever he found her. “That was amazing, everything you said was perfect and spot-on. That was the greatest thing that I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait for you do it again.” Peter congratulated the girl.

    “You don’t think it was too much?” She asked worriedly, biting her lip and fiddling with the pencil in her hands.

    Peter shook his head, his eyes wide, “No, no! Absolutely not! You would’ve made Alice Paul very proud.”

    Placing a hand atop of his, she thanked him with a smile. “You’re the best, Peter,” she said before turning her focus back to their teacher.

    After that, she had joined Peter on Flash’s hit-list, so Peter should’ve known better than to try and relax with his locker wide open. Peter was knocked out of his daydream of going home to her and simply curling up around her to sleep by Flash’s grabby hand, first shoving him out of the way, and then stealing his photo of her.

    As Flash rushed down the hall, Peter struggled after him, both boys trying to beat each other to where she stood deep in conversation with Michelle about the numerous male authors whose most famous novels were stolen works from their wives.

    “Flash, don’t” Peter shouted, as he tried to ignore the shooting pain traveling up his body.

    “Too late, Penis Parker,” Flash called as he weaved gracefully inbetween students to get to their target.

    “Oh my gosh,” Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes as she nodded her head towards the two boys heading their way. “Losers.”

    “His lip is bleeding,” She said, concern lacing into her tone. “Do you think he’s okay?”

    “Your boyfriend is fine, probably tripped over a lego or something on his way to the bathroom and banged his head into the wall on his way down.” Michelle tried to reason with her friend. She’d detected that her friend and Peter had the biggest of crushes on one another way before either one of them had, and she had made it her mission to mock them every chance she got.

    Flash was the first to reach the two girls, holding up the photo of her that Peter had taken of her reading outside. “Parker, Penis.” He wheezed, “Penis Parker took this picture of you and had it taped up behind his textbooks in his locker.” Bending over to soothe the splint in his side, Flash handed the photo to the confused girl in front of him.

    As Peter came to a stop in front of her and Michelle, he groaned and threw his hands up into the air, uttering a barely audible, “fuck.”

    When the girls saw Peter up close, they found that Peter was barely recognizable due to all of the bruises masking his pale skin. Quickly handing the photo to Michelle, the girl surged forward, lightly grabbing onto Peter’s sweater to steady him. “Peter, what happened to you? You’re hurt,” she questioned, growing a little more distraught as she studied him face to face.

    “The picture, I’m sorry, I know it’s so creepy. I didn’t mean to be a weirdo and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I swear that I’m not stalking you.” Peter mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to keep his lip from bleeding.

    “Peter, I don’t care about the photo. What happened to you? Oh no, your lip is bleeding,” She rambled, steering Peter towards the bench nearest to them. “Sit,” she instructed, digging through her backpack for a tissue to dab Peter’s cut with.

    “You’re seriously not going to say anything about the picture he clearly took of you?” Flash whined, refusing to accept defeat.

    Michelle raised her eyebrows, “No, I think it’s disturbing too. You’re not alone in that, Flash.”

    “Do you need ice?” She asked Peter, guiding Peter to look up so she could inspect his face for any further damage. “You need ice, Michelle, could you please go get him ice? Flash, could you please go away?” She asked, looking at the pair over her shoulder.

    Flash was nearly beside himself, “it’s weird! You have to acknowledge that it’s weird that he not only took a photo of you without your knowledge, but that he has it pinned up like you are his girlfriend or something? Really not going to say anything about that?”

    “For all you know,” she said, turning to face Flash as she did that day in class, “Peter could very well be my boyfriend!”

    Peter’s jaw dropped so far that she had to readjust his head to keep the tissue on his open wound. Gently prying her helping hand from his lip, “wait, really?” Peter asked. “You’d be my girlfriend after all this?”

    “This is disgusting,” Michelle interjected. Handing Peter’s photo back to him, she grabbed Flash by the collar of his polo shirt and dragged him down the hallway. “We’ll be back with ice and some band-aids.”

    She and Peter could hear Flash’s discontented grumbles as he followed Michelle down to the nurse’s office to retrieve some medical aid for Peter.

    “Are you really not freaked out?” Peter asked, staring up at her with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

    Sighing, she moved to stand in between Peter’s legs to inspect how much further his lip had split. “If you keep talking, the cut is never going to heal. This,” she gestured to Peter’s clearly damaged frame, “freaks me out more than anything. What’s happening to you? If I can help you, please let me. I care about you and I hate that you’re hurt.” She pouted.

    She was so close that Peter could smell all the floral notes in her perfume, and if he wanted to, he could hug himself close to her and never let go. “I can’t tell you what’s happening, but if I stop, things will get worse. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’m trying to help.”

    Running a hand through his hair, she shook her head. “Then let me help you. If you’re helping everyone, you deserve to have someone help you, and I want you to let me be that person, Peter.”

    Pinching the palm of his hand, Peter spotted Flash and Michelle returning with ice, ointment and bandages in hand, and he knew that he had to be quick. “It would really help me if you went out to dinner with me. Just being with you would help me. That’s why I took the picture of you. Every day that I felt like I was drowning, I would look at you, well the picture of you, and it would help me to breath again.”

    “Pick me up on Saturday. I’ll be ready at 7:30,” she agreed, much to not only Peter’s, but Flash’s surprise.

    “Come on!” Flash hissed, “how is it that Parker gets a date with a hot girl after he hides in the bushes and takes secret pictures of her? What the hell is going on right now? Do I live in the twilight zone?”

    “For fucks sake, Flash.” Michelle muttered, turning to him with squared shoulders, “she clearly knew that he was taking the photos of her. Who would smile while reading ‘The Flowers of Evil?’ And beyond that, she’s liked him for months and he’s liked her for months. All you’ve really done is finally bring them closer together. Congratulations Flash, your plan has officially backfired.”

    Flash groaned throughout the rest of the day and Michelle planned on teasing him for the rest of the school year. The girl’s cheeks were flushed pink until she went to sleep, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling, even though it only made the split in his lip worse.

   


Introduction: Hi! I’m Annie, I recently graduated as valedictorian of a class of almost 700, and I’m about to be a freshman at Johns Hopkins (go blue jays!!). High school was some of the best and worst moments of my life, and looking back, there are so many things that I wish I’d done and things that made me successful, so I wanted to share them! Of course, disclaimer, these tips may not apply to everyone!

(These tips generally apply to all classes, but if you have a specific subject you want tips on, I’ve taken these AP courses: european history, world history, us gov’t, macroeconomics, lang, lit, calc ab, chemistry, physics 1, physics c, environmental science, art: drawing, biology, human geography, chinese, and art history. Feel free to message me!)

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q&a: Kieran

princekierz said:

Hi Cassie. This is about Lady Midnight, not Lord of Shadows, so I may be a little late but anyway. People who hate Kieran are constantly bringing up the fact that he tried to convince Mark that he being with his family again wasn’t real in that note he sent him and I really can’t understand why he did it? What was the true purpose of that note? Can you please tell me? I love Kieran, and I don’t like when people are unfair with him. Thank you.

That’s interesting – I have to admit it never really occurred to me people would be confused by what that note meant/was about. The below contains spoilers but not major ones, so skip if you are avoiding even mild spoilers.

First I should say it’s fine to dislike a character. There is no character I have written or read about that someone hasn’t disliked for some reason. If that character is in a love triangle, multiply that by 100,000,0000000. (That may not be a real number but you get the point.) I’ve been thinking a lot about liking and disliking characters and the act of reading with empathy, which I will get to more at the end of this essay. Right now I’m just going to talk about what that note meant, and the way in which Kieran is a complicated sort of character generally.

We read for lots of reasons. To see our own experience reflected (a “mirror” reading experience) and also to see experiences that are not ours. (A “window” experience.) One of the interesting things about seeing the judgements of Kieran is the expectation that he is meant to act like a mundane human being (one who has dutifully read not just many relationship-help tomes but also all the Shadowhunter books – thanks, Kieran! – and is well acquainted with the Blackthorns despite never having met them). At very least, he is expected to act like a Shadowhunter, and not at all like a Faerie – despite the fact that a Faerie is what he is, and as a Faerie, he is not like us. He does not have typical human cultural beliefs about love (in good and bad ways), or commitment — he doesn’t mind at all whether Mark has sex with other people — or what promises mean, or what is personal space (a ridiculous idea to a Faerie.)

Mostly what I’ve seen complaint-wise about Kieran is that he is manipulative, which is true only to the extent that he has grown up in Faerie, where everyone is manipulative. Because they cannot lie, they have created a complex society of misdirection and manipulation and Kieran, growing up as Prince, would have been raised in the heart of that. He would know no other way to behave, and indeed has only been learning, slowly, different human patterns of behavior. He is actually really terrible at being manipulative — not a patch on Julian, for instance — and mostly he is neither good at it nor does it that often. But we can certainly look at what he has done.

So, on to the note and the vague six words it contains. (I don’t really understand what “he tried to convince Mark that he being with his family again wasn’t real” means, because Mark was obviously with his family and not, say, on a balloon tour of Cappadocia. I don’t think even the Seelie Queen would have tried to convince him otherwise, because that is not manipulation, that is waving your arms around yelling “Mark! They’re dosing you with PCP! That’s not really Ty! It’s a huge bunny!“ which is not going to work and nobody would reasonably think it would.) So I’m just going to gather that some sinister goal is being implied here and talk about why Kieran did send the note.

Remember that none of this is real. Why did Kieran say that? Because he was worried about Mark and thought it was the truth. Not for another reason. I gather there is an assumption that the phrase "remember that none of this is real” is somehow about Mark’s family, but it wasn’t. If Kieran had wanted to say “don’t trust your family” or whatever, he would have said that. The note was about the entire world of the Nephilim. Nor was it anything Kieran didn’t entirely think was true.

Nor was he entirely wrong.

Kieran was cast out of the King’s court because he was well-liked and the King saw him as a threat. He spent his years in the Wild Hunt with Mark watching as Mark’s heart broke every single night when he counted out his family’s names on the stars. He felt Mark’s agony when Mark saw Simon, and thought Simon had come to bring him back to the Nephilim, only to find out the Shadowhunters had abandoned him like garbage. Experiencing the agony of someone you love is worse than experiencing your own. After living through the horror of Mark’s despair and crushing loss, is it particularly surprising that Kieran might be wary of Mark getting attached to his family again only to be ripped away from them again – which is in fact what pretty much everyone in Lady Midnight thought was going to happen? Like, nobody thought this majorly fuckerated offer from the Fair Folk was likely to have a good outcome? Julian was terrified what it meant for the kids and thought it might be better if Mark had never come back? Kieran is unlikely to have a more positive view of the kindliness and honestly of the Clave (or the Courts of Fae) than Julian does.

Here is what Kieran knows to be fact:

Shadowhunters hate Faeries.

Mark was abandoned by his people. The Nephilim, certainly, his family, perhaps. Kieran knows they never tried to get in touch with Mark, and he is unaware of the Blackthorns’ complicated circumstances, that they were forbidden to look for Mark, and that they needed to protect Helen. There is no way he would know about those things, unless he had read the books. (Read the books, Kieran!).

He knows the Shadowhunters have enacted the Cold Peace, a series of racist laws punishing Faeries. He knows Mark will be in danger from this.

He has no reason not to think that when Mark is returned to the world of the Nephilim, using his family as bait, they won’t chop his damn head off.

That is what Kieran is urging Mark not to think is real. Nephilim promises. The idea that he will be safe outside Faerie in the Shadowhunter world. And Kieran is not exactly wrong either. We are all glad that Mark is back with his family….and if the Cohort gets into power they might chop his damn head off. Maybe he would have been better off back in the Wild Hunt.

Kieran can’t lie – and he can’t lie in writing either. He said what he said in his note because he was frightened for Mark, and he wanted him to stay safe. In no way did he mean “Your family doesn’t love you,” because if he thought that, he would actually have said it at some point, ever, rather than being incredibly vague in a note that, since he has never said anything remotely like “Your family doesn’t love you” to Mark, Mark would find incomprehensible. Mark understands the note perfectly, because the idea that Nephilim as a group are not trustworthy is not new to him nor is it a huge surprise Kieran would feel that way. (There’s also a lot of numinous stuff to get into about what real and unreal means to faeries, in a magical sense, but there’s no room here, alas.) Kieran has lots of opportunities to say bad things to Mark about his family if he wanted to, but IIRC he never does.

Misguided is not the same as manipulative. To be manipulative means that you’re playing on someone else’s hopes or fears to achieve selfish ends without regard for their well-being. But the idea that Kieran is a cold-hearted bastard who didn’t mean a word of the note (despite not being actually able to lie) and is a consummate actor doesn’t really jibe with anything we actually know or observe about Kieran. Far from having Julian’s ability to play others like guitar strings, mostly Kieran blurts out what he means when he means it and never even tries to pretend otherwise. He can be petulant as hell and annoying, showing up to see Mark when he’s not supposed to and sulking about whether Mark likes someone else. He can be manipulative in the way he sometimes kisses Mark when Mark is trying to be logical because he’s insecure and he trusts Mark’s desire for him even when he can’t convince himself Mark really loves him (but this doesn’t really work, which is what I mean by Kieran not being great at manipulation). He very foolishly interferes with Mark’s dream in Lord of Shadows because he wants to talk and he thinks giving Mark a dream in which they’re having a friendly conversation means he’ll find out what Mark’s hiding. (Which is another example of him not really understanding human issues. All he wants out of the dream is a talk — “Because you are not truthful with me. Your heart is closed and shrouded. I cannot see it,” Kieran said. “I thought, in dreams, perhaps …” — and the dream starts out with them sitting and talking while one bandages the other, and Kieran manages to get in the idea that he knows Mark is lying to him. Things take a sexy turn, but not because of Kieran. He can’t control Mark’s dreams in every detail: if he could, there would be literally zero point in a dream in which he’s hoping Mark will volunteer to tell him the truth. Mark has to have free will in the dream or there’s no point in what Kieran straight-up says the dream is for, and again, Kieran cannot baldfacedly lie. And Kieran is right — Mark is lying to him, in fact the whole family is gaslighting him, which is why it pains Mark when Kieran recalls the phrase “remember that none of this is real.” Because none of it, in this case, IS REAL. Kieran is being lied to by EVERYONE. However, Mark is still right that Kieran shouldn’t be poking at his dreams — and he shouldn’t. Kieran, as a faerie, doesn’t really get that: dreams aren’t private to him, and besides, Mark has allowed Kieran into his dreams before, so Kieran assumes it’ll be okay now, because Mark said it was all right previously. But this is where Kieran needs to learn not to make assumptions, and to value Mark’s privacy even if he doesn’t really get it. Does he? He seems to: he listens to what Mark says, and he never touches his dreams again. In fact, they actually have a pretty useful, healthy conversation about it, though we have to wait until QoAD to see how any breakthroughs they make in LoS play out.)

So yes, Kieran can make spectacularly bad decisions, with the worst of them being when he thought getting Mark hauled back to the Wild Hunt for an infraction was a good idea and wouldn’t result in any collateral damage. And Kieran deserves to be blamed and to feel guilty for that, nor do I mean to excuse him – and I have no interest in doing that; that wrong that he did is a building block of his flawed character. As I saw someone say on twitter the other day, which probably means you’ve all seen it many times, characters are not all either angelic cinnamon rolls or problematic monsters. Like people, because they are intended to reflect people, they exist on a continuum of behavior: some fail and learn, some fail and never learn, some have good intentions and some bad, some grow and change, some are changed by grief or shock or maturity, some cannot grow and are tragic figures. Committing a manipulative act doesn’t damn you forever unless you keep committing manipulative acts forever. If people (and characters) were rendered garbage by past mistakes, there would be no need for therapy or books, since both are about how people learn to change.

As Kieran says: “Everyone is more than one thing. We are more than the single actions we undertake, whether they be good or evil.” That was in Lady Midnight, and it’s possible he was thinking about the fact that he never tells Mark in that book that the reason he wanted Mark brought back to the Wild Hunt so badly – the reason he turned Mark in, hoping he’d be dragged away from the world of Nephilim – was not so that he could date Mark, but because he had been told Mark was going to be murdered. That Mark’s head was going to be chopped off NOW. That doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it makes it a lot less manipulative in two ways: he actually wasn’t acting for a selfish end, but to protect Mark from death, and he never tells Mark that in LM, letting Mark blame him. He lets Mark break up with him and walk away from him with only quiet resignation as a reply. He does nothing to try to make him stay and attempts no manipulation at all, nor is he manipulative when he shows up to help save Tavvy – he offers help, gives it, and expects nothing in return. Only when Kieran is in shock over having been lied to, and his sudden recollection of his own mistakes, does he tell Mark that he was in fear for Mark’s life – which makes a big difference to Mark, who is able to recognize what that means about why Kieran did what he did.

[Kieran said] “Iarlath had hinted you would not be safe in the Shadowhunters’ world. That they were planning to lure you back, only to execute you on some trumped-up charge. I was a fool to believe him. I know it now.”

“Oh,” said Mark. The knowledge unfolded in him, realization edged with relief. “You thought you were saving my life.”

Kieran nodded. “It makes no difference, though. What I did was wrong.”

(Emphasis mine.) Kieran is flawed, he screws up. He is also capable of acts of great nobility – his willingness to testify to protect the Blackthorns at the end of LOS being one of them. Kieran spends LOS being lied to and manipulated by everyone around him while his memory is gone. He is trapped in the Institute, a place so full of anti-Faerie magic that it makes him so sick he can barely eat. He suspects Mark is jerking him around in some way, he turns out to be right, and he’s still willing to testify in the Blackthorns’ defense. He is also able to see when he is/was wrong, and acknowledge it. None of this makes him a perfect person, but it certainly complicates him away from the oversimplified reading that he’s a manipulative horrorshow and that’s the end of the story — especially when a huge chunk of the story has yet to be told.

My suspicion, since there are plenty of other flawed characters in these books stumbling along messing up, is that Kieran’s true crime is being part of a love triangle. Having been through this before I remember well the long essays about how Will was a horrible person and the Wessa relationship was toxic and Jem was a horrible person and that relationship was toxic because dying people should know not to bother other people with their feelings (seriously). That is how people talk about love triangles these days; it seems to be a contest about which relationship is perceived as healthiest, which people are the best and most deserving people of the prize (Tessa, or in this case, Mark). There are a couple problems with that: one that is an unhealthy relationship can become healthy. (It obviously depends on the relationship, some absolutely cannot and should not be fixed, but there would be little need for marriage counselors if relationships could not be made healthier.) The second is that if you want to hate a character, you can convince yourself they are evil even if they spend a whole book saving bunnies, nuns, and salmon who can’t find the salmon cannon, so the arguments do get a bit circular after a while. Certainly I have come across plenty of essays about how Cristina is terrible and should go away because Kieran doesn’t like her (he does like her) and Mark doesn’t want her (not true) and she isn’t so great (I think she is so great and so do they.)

So I will say three things:

1) Kieran is not what is keeping Mark and Cristina apart, any more than Cristina is what is keeping Mark and Kieran apart. Kieran and Mark have a relationship that needs to be worked on to be healthy, and Cristina and Mark have to get to know each other better outside the magic of the binding spell. These things would be true regardless.

2) I know that this essay will garner plenty of people announcing that this means I ship Mark and Kieran or am in love with Kieran, and I know this because this happens whenever I post anything about them, or a piece of fanart of them, even if I post a piece of fanart of Cristina and Mark shortly after. I can only say what I have said for ten years, which is that I don’t ship my own characters or “love” them in the way a fan loves a character — all the characters are pieces of myself in some way or other so that’d feel very odd. I know there may be other authors who feel differently, but I can’t “ship” a couple when I’m primarily interested in their relationships in terms of theme, craft and writing the best story I can — I need the distance of being a reader, not a writer, to “ship” something. (I would also note that male authors rarely ever have people talk about how they’re in love with their characters or they write about them because it’s a “fetish” or “they get off on it”: only women get that narrative, but that’s another post.)

3) I remember reading online that writers should write with “savage empathy.” I’ve always thought that was great advice, as it reminds us to always stay in sympathy with characters and write from a place of their humanity, in all the vastness of humanity’s capability for complexity: for the same person to be capable of immense selfishness and immense nobility, or deep gentleness and great cruelty. It reminds us that we strive to reflect what is human rather than what is either entirely perfect or entirely evil. I feel like it’s also been good advice for me as a reader. It reminds me to look at things from the characters’ point of view, to not expect them to know what I know,* to remember the circumstances of their lives and the ways in which they may behave differently than I would because of the way they were raised/what their culture prioritizes. It has helped me be less judgmental of characters and while I don’t think it’s made me unaware of the problematic, I think it’s made me a happier reader. Even when I don’t forgive, I can understand, and that reminder of the eternal complexity of the human soul, and its capability for change and redemption, has enriched my reading life. It’s wonderful to realize that you can enjoy reading even more than you did before, and I can only hope for the same for all my readers.

*This is why it is pointless to be angry at the Superhero’s girlfriend when he is off saving the city, and you know he is off saving the city but she doesn’t, so she’s just angry he didn’t make it to little Marcia’s bat mitzvah.

Random Questions - Send Me Numbers!

Here is yet another set of random questions for people to ask you in order to get to know you better. Please reblog!

1. What is your middle name?
2. Do you have any nicknames?
3. Do you have any allergies?
4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?
5. Apple or PC?
6. Favorite flavor?
7. Have you ever been on a blind date?
8. Are you friends with any of your exes?
9. What kind of car do you drive?
10. How grammatically correct are you when you text?
11. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why?
12. Creamy or chunky peanut butter?
13. Favorite food to pig out on?
14. DC or Marvel?
15. Disney or Nickelodeon?
16. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer?
17. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it?
18. Do you read any magazines?
19. Coffee or tea?
20. What is your go-to Starbucks drink?
21. How many things can do with your weaker hand?
22. Last show you binge watched?
23. Dogs or cats?
24. Favorite Disney princess?
25. Do you like fast food?
26. Favorite thing to cook for yourself?
27. Favorite song to sing in the shower?
28. Have you ever butt dialed anyone?
29. iPhone/iPad or Android?
30. Any styles of music you do not like?
31. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it?
32. Have you ever gotten a ticket while driving?
33. Favorite emoji?
34. Showers or baths?
35. Is there anything you regret buying?
36. Are you fluent in more than one language?
37. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over again and enjoy just as much every time?
38. What is the heaviest you have ever weighed?
39. Do you have any tattoos? If so, how many and where?
40. Have you ever uttered a spoken hashtag?
41. Favorite school subject?
42. Favorite non-chocolate candy?
43. Name one celebrity you dislike.
44. If you could have one superpower, which one would you most like to have?
45. From 1-10, rate your singing ability.
46. From 1-10, rate your dancing ability.
47. From 1-10, rate your cooking ability.
48. From 1-10, rate your driving ability.
49. Are you religious?
50. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite?
51. Have you ever locked your keys in your car?
52. Spring or autumn?
53. Do you play any sports?
54. Can you play any musical instruments?
55. Are you more introverted or extroverted?
56. How easily do you cry?
57. Last musical artist you saw live?
58. Favorite YouTube channel?
59. Star Wars or Star Trek?
60. How long have you known your best friend?
61. Have you ever voted for a reality show?
62. Last CD you bought?
63. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship?
64. Have you ever been broken up with?
65. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show?
66. How long was your longest relationship? Are you still with that person?
67. Have you seen any Broadway plays or musicals?
68. Have you ever acted in a play or a musical?
69. How flexible are you?
70. Have you ever sexted?
71. Do you own any clothes from garage sales or thrift stores?
72. Real or fake Christmas trees?
73. How many pillows do you sleep with?
74. How well can you write in cursive?
75. What is your political affiliation?
76. Do you like any boy bands?
77. Have you ever broken any bones?
78. Have you ever gotten any stitches?
79. Do you have any piercings in places other than your ears?
80. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it?
81. Do you like wearing hats?
82. Have you ever dyed your hair?
83. From 1-10, how competitive are you?
84. How long have you been at your current job?
85. Have you ever studied abroad?
86. Phrase you say the most?
87. Have you ever quit a job?
88. Have you ever gotten fired from a job?
89. Have you ever won a trophy? If so, what for?
90. Have you ever been a Boy/Girl Scout?
91. Last thing that made you laugh?
92. Do you eat meat?
93. Are you more of a morning or a night person?
94. Worst habit?
95. Deepest fear?
96. Do you believe in ghosts?
97. If you could take home any animal from the zoo, what animal would you take?
98. Do you consider rapping singing?
99. Favorite costume you wore for Halloween? How old were you?
100. Favorite store to shop at?
101. Have you ever given anyone CPR?
102. Favorite Pokémon?
103. Do you own any homemade clothing?
104. Do you drink alcohol at all? If so, what is your drink of choice?
105. Have you ever skinny dipped?
106. Favorite type of cookie?
107. Favorite flavor of ice cream?
108. Biggest pet peeve?
109. Are you still friends with anyone from high school?
110. Favorite literary character?
111. Are your birth parents still together?
112. Do you wear or have your ever worn glasses?
113. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang out with?
114. Have you ever been the victim of a prank?
115. Do you belong to a fraternity or a sorority?
116. Have you ever taken a nude selfie?
117. Are you adopted?
118. Favorite fandom?
119. Oldest memory?
120. Have you ever snorted when you laughed?
121. Can you drive stick?
122. Favorite Disney song?
123. Random boy’s name.
124. Random girls’ name.
125. How often do you eat out at a nice restaurant?
126. How many people are in your nuclear family?
127. What accent do you consider the most attractive?
128. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type?
129. What is your astrological sign?
130. Biggest regret?
131. What type of shoes do you wear the most?
132. Do you like any soap operas?
133. Do you listen to talk radio?
134. What sports team(s) do you root for?
135. Describe your sense of humor.
136. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same gender?
137. Favorite video game?
138. Name a moment in your life when you were pleasantly surprised.
139. Do you believe in serendipity?
140. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was done?
141. Have you ever felt you were born in the wrong period of history?
142. Is sex before marriage wrong?
143. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head?
144. Can you handle spicy food?
145. Have you ever called a non-lover a term such as darling, honey, babe, or dear?
146. Do you like MTV?
147. Where on your body are you the most ticklish?
148. TV show or movie you quote/reference the most?
149. Have you ever lived with a roommate you didn’t get along with?
150. Where do you think is the best place to meet a new lover?
151. Have you ever successfully been on a diet?
152. Favorite thing to do outside?
153. Where did you go on your last vacation?
154. Do you say “y'all” at all?
155. Have you ever lived on a farm?
156. Do you believe in evolution?
157. What TV channel do you watch the most?
158. Favorite Beatles song?
159. Have you ever been on TV?
160. Have you ever been to Disney World or Disneyland?
161. Do you like horror movies?
162. Do you like to go fishing?
163. Have you ever been hunting?
164. Do you take medication for anything?
165. Name one item from your bucket list.
166. From 1-10, how much do you like children?
167. Have you ever thought about your wedding?
168. Have you ever been bungee jumping or skydiving?
169. Favorite flower?
170. Do you collect anything?
171. Who was the last person you told a lie to?
172. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman?
173. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?
174. What was your favorite toy to play with when you were a child?
175. How good are you at math?
176. Have you ever learned anything from a how-to YouTube video?
177. Have you ever participated in a science fair?
178. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender?
179. Have you ever participated in a public protest?
180. Do you have a pool at your house?
181. Have you ever hosted a wild party?
182. Do you like karaoke?
183. Have you ever written a love letter?
184. Have you ever ran a marathon?
185. How often do you get mad at yourself?
186. Any guilty pleasures?
187. Fruits or vegetables?
188. Do you live in a house or an apartment?
189. The countryside or the suburbs?
190. Worst job you’ve ever had?
191. Do you hang out with any of your co-workers?
192. Were you ever voted homecoming/prom king or queen?
193. Were you voted a “best” or “most likely to” in high school?
194. Have you ever gotten detention?
195. Have you ever babysat?
196. Have you ever taken a road trip just for the fun of it?
197. How many drinks get you tipsy?
198. Were you a part of any academic clubs in high school or college?
199. Have you ever given a public speech, aside from your schooling?
200. How long have you been on tumblr?

Patronus

word count: 1.8 K

tags: patronus, drarry, eighth year

Harry held out his hand, “Start over?” he was smiling hesitantly, his eyes showing his worry. Draco took his hand, it was larger than he thought it would be, dry and calloused like a laborer rather than a wizard. Harry’s grip was firm and his smile grew more certain and hopeful. After the first failed handshake, Draco had never allowed himself to think Harry would ever look at him like that.

Draco remembered the hope, the warm flutter of nerves that would bloom into happiness over time, “Expecto Patronum.” he held his breath as he opened his eyes, half expecting to see flesh-eating slugs spilling from his wand. Instead, he saw a thin silvery mist, stretching and curling around him even as it slowly began to dissipate.

His breath caught in excitement. Perhaps he could. Perhaps he might be worthy after all.

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Beginner's Guide to Pendulums

⛤Okay, so I have been wanting to put out a post about pendulums based on how I was taught to use them by my aunt, a long-time pendulum diviner and dowser. This post is based solely on our traditions and beliefs. I am NOT telling anyone that this is the one and only way to work with pendulums. Please do what works for you. If these methods suit you, fantastic! If not, it’s okay. Alright, buckle your seat belts ‘cause here we go.

⛤So, you want to use a pendulum. Cool! First you have to get one. There are several ways to obtain a pendulum. You can buy one from a specialty shop (many new age and crystal shops sell them). You can buy one online from places like Etsy, Ebay, and other places. You can even make one. All you need is a string or chain and something to hang from it. It can be as simple as a needle stuck in a cork hanging from some thread (as my great grandmother did). You can also use a piece of jewelry, such as a necklace or a lanyard as a pendulum. Find, make or buy one that is suitable for you.

⛤Now that you have a pendulum, it’s time to clear/charge it. A very important step when using a pendulum is to cleanse it, especially if you bought one. A pendulum in a store, even an online store, has been touched by many people. People have probably touched it to look at it, shop employees have probably touched it when they were putting out to be bought. The seller from an online shop has certainly touched it. All of these people touching the pendulum that you just bought have left residual energies on it. These energies can affect the accuracy of the pendulum. So, you have to cleanse it. I recommend you cleanse your pendulum the same way you do any of your magickal tools. If it’s made from a crystal, you can cleanse it the same way you cleanse your crystals. If you don’t know how to cleanse your pendulum, I was taught to start with a prayer/incantation/chant. Write one that explains your intention just like you would to write a spell. Be specific in your writing. If you want to work with your spirit guides, say that. If you want to work with your higher self, say that. Be specific in the kind of spirits you want to work with. Do you want to work with ancestors? Spirit animals? Etc. If you want to work spirits aligned with light, be specific on the type of light. Anyway, after you have your prayer/incantation/chant written down, you can begin to cleanse your pendulum. The cleansing ritual/ceremony/process can be a elaborate as you deem fit. When I cleansed mine, I didn’t go very elaborate, but if you need to go for it. There are several ways you can use to cleanse your pendulum. 1st, smoke cleansing. Just as you would use sage to cleanse a room, you can use it to cleanse your pendulum. Light a bundle of dried sage, or sage incense. Pass your pendulum through the smoke and say your prayer/incantation/chant. Do this for as long as you think is necessary. 2nd, visualization. Hold your pendulum in your hand and visualize it being surrounded by a brilliant white light. Focus on the residual energies being driven away and cleansed from your pendulum. Say your prayer/incantation/chant while you do your visualization. I used this method to cleanse my pendulum. I visualized putting the pendulum in a stream of white light and letting the light flow over it like water, cleansing away the residual energies. 3rd, if your pendulum is made of crystal, any crystal cleansing techniques will work to cleanse it (i.e. burying it, putting it in running water, burying in salt, putting it with cleansing crystals, such as clear quartz and selenite, etc.). If you made your pendulum, you might not have to worry so much about cleansing and charging it because you made it and it’s already aligned with your energy. However, if you bought your pendulum, after you have cleansed it you need to charge it with your energy. You can do this by carrying it around with you in your pocket and asking small, mundane questions. (I’ll explain this more later)

⛤Now you have a cleansed and charged pendulum. What’s next? Well, you need to program it. By programming, I mean you need to establish how your pendulum will work for you. This includes deciding how you want your pendulum to move based on certain responses to your questions. Now, I have seen many posts and read several books that say that you are supposed to ask the pendulum to show you how it will move for yes, no, maybe, I don’t know, etc. I was taught that you shouldn’t do this because it opens you up for potentially dangerous situations and it sets the precedent that the pendulum or the spirits communicating through the pendulum are in control. I was taught that this is potentially dangerous. I was also taught that this is your experience on this plane of existence. Because of that, you should be in control and do what you are comfortable with. The pendulum is a tool and the spirits communicating through it are guides that can only offer advice. Anyway, you should be the one who decides how the pendulum will move according to the different responses. My pendulum moves in a clockwise circle for “yes”, a counter-clockwise circle for “no”, back and forward for “maybe”, side to side for “I don’t know”, and it stays still for “please rephrase the question.” You can program your pendulum however makes you feel comfortable and however you will remember the meaning of the movements best. After all, what’s the point in asking a question if you can’t understand the answer?

Going back to charging the pendulum. Programming it actually goes into charging it. The more you use your pendulum, the more it becomes aligned to your energy. When you first start using your pendulum, begin by asking it mundane questions. Start with things that don’t have a significant impact on your life, such as what should a I eat for dessert, what color shoes should I wear, should I buy this thing. Simple stuff like that gets you used to your pendulum and it helps you remember your programming for it better. It also helps your pendulum become aligned with your energy and makes the responses more accurate.

⛤Using a pendulum is a great way to get advice on decisions you’re indecisive about. It’s also a wonderful tool for communicating with your spirit guides and companions.

⛥As you get more accustomed to using your pendulum, you can do other things with it. You can create charts to help you get more in depth information. For example, you can make a time table to help organize your tasks for the day. You can make a list of activities to do and when you are bored or don’t know what to do next, ask your pendulum. My aunt did this a lot with her kids. They would want to go outside to play and she would want them to do homework. She would dowse (ask her pendulum) on it and whatever the pendulum said is usually* what they did. Additionally, you can use your pendulum for spirit work. You can make a letter board (like a ouija board) and communicate with spirits. You can also use pendulum for Reiki work, using it to find blockages in the chakras. The list goes on and on.

I put an * next to “usually” in my little anecdote because as I said earlier, this is your experience on this plane of existence. Your pendulum and the spirits communicating through it can only offer advice. You have the ability to either listen to what your pendulum advises or not. That being said, in my experience the pendulum is usually right.

⛤Anyway, I know that was a super long winded post about pendulums. I hope you find the information useful. If using pendulums is something you want to do, go for it! I absolutely LOVE mine and I am so happy I had someone in my life who could teach me about them!

Thank you and blessed be,

Anne Sage 🌻🌼

⛤Also: a good exercise to do with pendulums is to have two, one in each hand, and see if you can get them both to move in harmony with each other. This will show any weak energy flow in your body. It’s a good way to help build up that flow and make it stronger. I, personally, have to work on this with my right hand because it is significantly weaker than my left.

Originally posted by zombiewhitetrash-blog

The player on center ice

A Check Please Soulmate AU


Yes, another one. This is a one-shot.

Warnings: time-travel. Don’t try to make sense of it, it’s just fluff.


Sometimes, your soulmate came back in time to give you a pep-talk. Not that you remembered who they were and what they said, but the feelings remained. 

This story is set during Bitty’s first year. 



Eric was about to quit hockey. He would quit hockey, then quit Samwell altogether, and go back to Georgia his tail between his legs and prove right every single person that said he wasn’t strong enough for such a manly sport.

Jack had chewed him out again- in front of everyone.


(more under the cut)

Keep reading

Blurred Lines (Smut)

MASTERLIST

A/N: Celebrating Shawn’s birthday. Feedback is always lovely. 

Word count: 4,518

Shawn and I had been living together for a little over four months now. Since Shawn agreed to letting me crash for a week while looking for something new after being kicked out of my dorm, things we didn’t count on happened between us and suddenly, we were practically roommates and enjoyed each other’s company for hours a day. 

Keep reading

Heal My Wounds

Peter has a massive crush on the reader but can’t help but wonder why she always covers her hands with gloves. 

author’s note: heyo just small hint the reader has a metal arm yeet this is like the fifth time i’m rewriting this so here goes nothing (i still don’t know how i feel about this it’s quite bad tbh) shout out to @toms-spidey for helping me out with this big time and literally being the only reason i’m posting this ily girly.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: kinda angsty and fluffy at the same time….?

Peter had been crushing on you for god knows how long. You were in a few of his classes and every once in a while he would look over at you a smile placed on his lips as you tugged lose strands of hair that would occasionally fall in front of your face back behind your ear.

He couldn’t help but notice one thing, you always had gloves on. No matter what the weather was, hot or cold you always had the same brown fabric covering your hands.

Flash had teased you about it multiple times and it pissed Peter off. No one deserved Flash’s unnecessary comments least of all you, the girl who barely spoke, not even when spoken to.

On multiple occasions Peter had tried to talk to you but you always managed to slip right past him acting as if you had no idea he wanted to talk, although it was fairly obvious.

And now as he sat in his usual seat his head resting in the palm of his hand he couldn’t help but admire you as you squinted your eyes slightly, concentrating on the papers sprawled out in front of you, your tongue poking out of the corners of your pink lips.

Ned nudged Peter bringing him out of his daze as he diverted his attention back to his best friend who was now giving him a judge mental look as his eyes wandered to who Peter had been staring at.

“Just go talk to her, your not so subtle staring is probably starting to freak her out” Ned sighed his elbow resting on the table in front of him, Peter scoffed his gaze finally meeting Ned’s.

“Don’t you think i’ve tried!? Every time i get as much as this close to her” Peter says squeezing his index finger and thumb together so they were almost touching “she runs off”.

“So don’t let her” Ned states matter of factly patting Peter on the back as he ushered him towards you, completely ignoring the quite protests leaving Peter’s mouth as they neared you with every step.


“Hey Y/N” a voice brings you out of your thoughts as you spit the pen out that you had previously tugged between the corners of your mouth, a awkward smile reaching the corners of your lips as you mumbled a quite ‘yeah’.

“Peter here wants to talk to you about something” Ned smiled, forcefully pushing Peter onto the stool next to you before he walked off a proud smile on his lips.

“What did you want to tell me?” you asked breaking the awkward silence that had settled between the two of you as soon as Ned left. “I um-well just wanted to uh see if you may-maybe wanted to I don’t know hang out sometime or something like that” Peter stammered a blush rising on his cheeks as he looked down at his lap slamming his eyes shut inwardly cringing at how awkward he was.

You were baffled, you couldn’t believe Peter Parker had just asked you to hang out, you a girl who wore gloves to hide what you hoped no one would discover. So as you were about to reject the offer, you looked back up at him and his hopeful beautiful brown eyes stared back into yours and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Sure, Peter I would love too” you smiled going to place your arm on his shoulder but quickly pulled back realizing he would definitely feel what was not a flesh arm.

His wide eyes once again met yours and he looked like he was about to burst from happiness and you couldn’t help but giggle as he fumbled to get back up from the seat next you trying his best to act casual as he reached into his pocket so he could hand you his phone. 

But you reacted quickly telling him it was better if you called him knowing well enough you would have to take your gloves off in order for you to be able to type your phone number into the small phone he had placed in the palm of his hand.

“How about we just hang out after school, study date?” you asked hoping he would put the phone back into his pocket, and thankfully he did sending you a warm smile as he nodded walking back to his seat where he plopped down next to Ned.


Finally the school bell rung signaling that school was over and you happily stuffed all your stuff into your backpack before you slung it over your shoulder following the crowds of students that were exiting the classroom.

You were ready to get home and sit down on your couch with your favorite ice cream whilst Friends played in the background, but you then remembered your study date with Peter groaning at the fact you wouldn’t be getting these damn gloves off anytime soon.

You made your way toward Peter’s locker where you saw him clumsily stuffing his books into it—your heart almost melting at the sight, you quickly made your way towards him picking up the books that had fallen out of his tight grasp.

“Thank you” he awkwardly laughed scratching the back of his neck as he finally managed to slam his locker shut, the noise emanating off of the now empty school hallways. “It’s no problem, so your place or mine?” you asked as you walked side by side thankful that your left arm was brushing against his and not your right one.

“We can go to mine since Aunt May’s not going to be home anytime soon” you nodded and sent him a warm smile, you lived alone so a parent coming home early and yelling at you for being alone with a boy really wasn’t a problem, but Peter didn’t need to know that.


As soon as you had arrived at Peter’s small apartment he shared with his aunt, you followed him into his room where he nervously asked you to sit down on his bed and wait whilst he went and got you two some snacks.

You happily obliged sitting down on the bottom bunk your backpack resting in your lap as you pulled some of your books out of it and placed them on the nightstand that was next to you.

You heard clattering coming from the kitchen and took this as your chance to finally let your left hand breath for the first time that day. You sighed as you pulled the brown glove of your flesh hand, your palms were extremely sweaty and you made sure you could still hear Peter in the kitchen before you removed the glove of your right one.

A heavy sigh yet again left your mouth as you rubbed your hands together, your cold metal hand met your flesh one sending shivers down your spine at the unsuspected coldness.

Zoning out for a bit you completely missed when Peter stepped into the doorframe and quickly backed away when he saw why you always wore those same brown gloves.

Peter’s POV

Peter was struggling to make his way up the stairs as he tried to keep every single thing he was carrying still, the glasses he had filled with water were spilling everywhere at his clumsy excuse of walking and he couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan when he reached the top of the stairs.

He smiled adjusting himself a bit before he walked into his room. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what rested beneath the surface of your glove.

You hadn’t heard or seen him walk into the room so he quickly and quietly sprinted back down the stairs the water now completely abandoning the two glasses that rested on the top of his palm.

He laid every single snack he had carried up the stairs back onto the counter top as he reached for his phone that was placed in the back of his pocket quickly unlocking and dialing Tony’s number.

Tony picked up on the fourth ring and immediately starting scolding Peter for calling him since he told him he could only do that if it was an absolute emergency.

“This is an emergency Tony!” Peter panicked running his fingers through his brown locks as he started pacing around the kitchen making sure you hadn’t come down the stairs.

“You remember the airport fight right!?” Peter asked his grip on the phone becoming tighter with every word he spoke “yeah I don’t think I’m going to forget that anytime soon kid” Tony sighed “And you remember that dude with the metal arm right!?” 

“What’s your point here Peter?” Tony asked his brows pulling in as Peter continued speaking “well I’m with this girl right now her names Y/N, and I-I went down to get us some snacks since we were going to study but then I came back up and she-she had taken her gloves off… She has these gloves that she always wears—anyways! she has a metal arm Tony, a metal arm! And it’s exactly like Bucky’s”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized he had begun to raise his voice significantly during the last part of his sentence and he quickly looked around making sure you were nowhere insight.

“Do you think you could find a way to bring her to the tower?” Tony questioned and Peter nodded before realizing Tony couldn’t see him and he frantically mumbled a yes before hanging up the phone and climbing back up the stairs into his room.

“Hey I hope you don’t mind but-” Peter stopped abruptly realizing you were nowhere insight “Y/N?” he asked slowly walking into his room were he saw the previously closed window was now wide open and all of your stuff was gone

“Shit” he cursed knowing you had obviously heard his conversation with Tony and climbed out the window. What was he going to do now?

Next Part

If you want to be tagged in this embarrassment that I call a fic hmu in my ask and i’ll gladly add you to it <3 (this is so shitty i could cry)