just note that these are entirely different years

I’ll be the first to admit I thoroughly enjoy all the “holy shit, Australia” posts that circulate around here but I feel like there’s a very important caveat when it comes to the discussion of swooping season that no one seems to mention.

For those not aware, swooping season is when the magpies start to nest and turn into mini dive-bombers comprised of talons, feathers and spite. It’s not fun. I bled heavily after a particularly vicious swoop when I was a kid, and I’m definitely not the only one.

But here’s the thing: swooping is not an innate behaviour. It’s a learned one. I realised this the moment I moved out of home and began my decade long (entirely unintentional) habit of moving to a different suburb every two years. 

I’ve met a lot of wildlife, walking everywhere as I do. And I’ve met a lot of magpies - hella intelligent creatures that are probably thinking “what the fuck is this chick doing” every time I say hi to them as I walk past.

When I first moved out of home, I automatically started taking notes on areas I saw magpies in preparation for swooping season. It was just the done thing. It wasn’t until September came and went and the magpies in my area continued their quizzical but otherwise completely non-aggressive behaviour that it started to twig with me.

The next few years of moving around solidified my suspicions.

Anytime I lived close to a school or in an area with a high concentration of families with young kids, the magpies would swoop. Any suburb (usually inner city) with a high concentration of childless households and/or share-houses: no swooping to be seen.

And it’s any goddamn wonder.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve yelled at kids for messing with wildlife. I grew up in the outer suburbs, so there was no shortage of mini-assholes with an empathy shortage. Australian kids will poke anything they can reach with a stick, and throw rocks at everything else. Including birds nests.

Magpies are intelligent as hell, and they remember shit for GENERATIONS. Some human-shaped fucker throwing rocks at them and their nests? That’s something that’d stick.

So anytime you read one of those “lol the birds try to kill us here” posts, remember: it’s not the birds that started that shit - it was the asshole humans.

Chrysalism

/noun/ the peace of being indoors during a thunderstorm

Summary: Bookstores have always lured you in with the promise of the quiet, the serene, and, most recently, him.
Pairing: Jimin | Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 2,644
Author’s Note: This story was on one of my old Tumblr writing accounts that I just deleted, but it was one of my favorite stories and didn’t want it to collect dust in my drive.

.

You’ve always had an endless fascination with books and novels of various different shapes, sizes, and lengths. The way someone could paint an entirely different world with the mixture of just 26 letters, whisk the mind away from reality, stir emotions inside someone—emotions of laughter or sadness or one of complete contentment. The influence a simple novel could have on a person’s viewpoint has always fascinated you.

During your younger years, you would find yourself trekking to the nearest bookstore, if only to simply run your fingers along the spines of all the latest releases. You would open a random novel, just to skim the first sentence, allowing the words of a complete stranger to fill you with familiarity.

Not much has changed in the years following your childhood. Something about corner bookstores have always lured you with the promise of peace and quiet, an escape from the harsh reality you occupied yourself with. You constantly looked forward to the days you could run away and hide within the shelves of the shop, no matter rain or shine, sleet or snow, 30 pages of homework to get done during the night, you always made an effort to visit at least once or twice a week as soon as you entered college.

Today is no exception to the rule. With midterms rapidly approaching, you’re already drowning in papers, projects, and upcoming tests, the stress practically eating you alive. But still, instead of returning to your apartment, you find yourself turning down the familiar sidewalk in the opposite direction. The rain overhead is steadily pouring down today, serving as little warning bells that perhaps making the trip to the bookstore might not be the best option.

Judging from the gray clouds, it’s clear that the weather has other plans for the remainder of the day—the lightning that suddenly shoots across the sky is a clear indication of that—but you find yourself not minding much. The heels of your boots clash gently against the sidewalk, your hair curling slightly as the water comes in contact with it, but all those worries and annoyances dissipate off your skin like steam as the familiar shop comes into view. With the lights on inside, the place looks like a beacon of hope, allowing the smile to spread itself across your face as you quicken your pace to shoulder open the door.

The bell rings overhead as you gently shut the door close, running your hand through your hair quickly to rid some of the water trapped in your locks. After exchanging a smile with the familiar cashier at the counter, you make your way deeper in the store. Like usual, there isn’t anything in particular you’re seeking, but just being surrounded by text, aisles and aisles of hardcovers and paperbacks fills you with comfort.

You’re just starting the turn into contemporary novels, when one particular black, hardcover spine catches your attention, causing you to stop dead in your tracks, eyes widening with recognition as you distinctly remember this particular novel being one of the very few you’ve wanted in your own personal collection of books: John Green’s Looking For Alaska.

Your lips curl up into a smile, momentarily unfazed by the fact that the book had been placed on the highest shelf, towering a few inches above you, even as you stand on your tippy toes, even as your fingers barely manage to graze the book you want. It takes five times before you plant both feet firmly back on the ground with a gentle huff, considering the next movement to grab the book.

You’re just about to consider getting a running start between the two shelves, before a slightly amused voice cuts in through your concentration: “Need some help?”

Keep reading

Did I ever mention my favorite game of the year is Night In The Woods, hands down? No? Well my new favorite game, everybody!

Mae’s story is like my entire life, top to bottom. The only difference is I didn’t drop out of college. Yet.

Edit: henlo~ this is getting a lot more notes than I thought so I just wanted to say I did not draw this and credit goes here: https://twitter.com/vianandrias/status/835796647556702209 I’m glad to know this fandom is so large, love you all
Broken {Part 01}

Bucky x Reader (Soulmate!AU)
Summary: The day Bucky returned from Wakanda changed your life forever. Upon finally meeting the man formerly known as the Winter Soldier, your watch reached 00:00:00 and you came to realization that you’d finally met the man you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. But what are you supposed to do when he doesn’t feel the same?

Prompt: The soulmate clock is actually something breakable and you accidentally break yours or vice versa (taken from this post).

Word Count: 1963
Warnings: angst but also eventual fluff, I promise.

Masterlist 

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

A/N: Honestly, i feel like this could have been written so much better but also i’ve had the nastiest writer’s block and this is the best i’ve got to show after a month of writing rip sorry guys but i still hope you enjoy! 


The tower had an unusual nervousness about it when you awoke that morning. 

FRIDAY was uncommonly silent and the rooms and halls felt large and empty, the usual bustle of friends and staff gone. Tony had called for all meetings and tests to be cancelled, everyone already overwhelmed with the flood of visitors you were to be expecting that day. 

Of course, the majority of those visitors had been assigned to you. No matter the occasion, you just never caught a break.

But the nervous energy filling the tower was suffocating and you couldn’t help but fiddle with the ring on your finger – something Steve had bought you last Christmas for just that purpose – as you walked towards the livingroom. 

Things weren’t much better when you arrived. Tony was uncharacteristically quiet as well, pacing across the living room as Rhodey watched from his seat by the couch. Nat and Sam sat just as silent and anxious at the kitchen counter, throwing you a small smile but much appreciated smile when you entered.

You hated the sudden changes in behaviour but knew that it was to be expected because today was the day that Bucky Barnes returned.

You’d never met the man before and your friends hadn’t seen him in over two years, the last time being shortly before he’d been put in cyro. While things hadn’t ended on the most stellar note, everyone had put it behind them and they were  was happy, albeit a little bit anxious, to have him back.

You, however, were behaving oddly for an entirely different reason.

It wasn’t because you were the only one to have never met the man before and it wasn’t because in just an hour you were to face a roomful of new recruits (although both were good reasons).

It was because the small inked clock on your arm was nearly at its end; in just under an hour the digits on your skin would finally read 00:00:00.

You were going to meet your soulmate.

Keep reading

I was at a candy store just now in a different state than where I live and I was helping my little six year old cousin check out. She wanted to do the entire transaction all by herself. As the cashier was ringing her up, a lady came up and started yelling at the cashier and demanding that he ring her up first because she’s been waiting in line forever (please note: she was in no way waiting in line, she was wandering the store) and it’s unfair that we were served before she was. She’s yelling and gesturing wildly and the cashier is trying to diffuse the situation by calmly telling her that his associate is getting her candy from the back and trying to explain that he can’t abandon his post and attend to her when he has people to check out. She doesn’t take any of this of course and continues to yell anyway. My cousin at this point is frightened because she doesn’t know if she’s done something wrong or not and she’s trying to give the cashier her money and he’s distracted, obviously. After the customer storms off grumbling about poor service or whatever, the cashier turns back to us and sees that my cousin is distressed so he gives her a wink and asks if she’s doing alright. He was so sweet to us and so calm after dealing with that customer when I know personally I would already be crying. He made sure my little cousin felt safe again and wished us a nice day after finishing up. I apologized on behalf of the customer and he thanked me, gave me a high five and a free lollipop.

So basically, fuck customers. I feel awful for anyone who has to deal with customers like that like y'all are people too and it’s so unnecessary that you guys have to deal with that.

I want to do a quick shoutout to the Hannibal and American Gods fandoms. 

I’ve been drawing for years, but have always struggled with my art. About 4 years ago I put my art down and never really picked it back up again. Here or there I’d draw something – but it was never consistent. 

I’m one of those people that draws for myself. I’ll take requests, but I draw for me. Always have. I don’t mind drawing the pairing that no one else supports, or that show no one else is into. I have never expected or really looked for recognition when it comes to my art because, honestly, I’m not a big fan of it.

Let’s just say some idiots ruined how I see my art and now I’m just so– whatever when it comes to it. Which is why I don’t really put work into my art anymore. Don’t really do finished pieces. 

I was expecting it to keep being like that– UNTIL THE FANNIBAL FAMILY STRUCK MEH. 

Let me just say: OH MY LORD. You are S O  S U P P O R T I V E. 

I have never been in such a supportive fandom before. NOT TO SHAME MY OTHER FANDOMS. I still love my other fandoms, I’ve just never made any kind of name for myself in them. Even pieces that I pour hours into. 

Then here I am doing 30 min doodles of random stuff – starting with a funny picture of Hannibal licking Will’s tummy scar because I saw a request and WELL WHY NOT I’LL DOODLE ON IT. AND SUDDENLY FANNIBALS. 

FANNIBALS EVERYWHERE. 

L I T E R A L L Y : 

I read every one of your cute notes. Your tags. Everyday I wake up to this steadily growing amount of notes and I am just so entirely blown away. 

I have literally been in a drawing rut for 10 years and stepped away entirely 4 years ago and now– here I am. 

I never thought I’d need recognition or support but I can’t tell you how much it has made such a difference in my life. I won’t go into details, but I’m currently struggling, and seeing those notes, seeing that I make other people happy with my silly doodles– It has been a literal game changer. 

Thank you so very, very much for supporting some random newcomer. Thank you for not being cliquey. Thank you for not being shaming or having silly ship wars. I just– 

Thank you. Is really what it comes down to. 

I literally cannot tell you how much this means to me and how big of a difference this has made in my life. Even if it seems small, I’ve never had anyone in my life support my art and my creativity like this fandom has. And I adore, absolutely adore, all of you for it. <3

answer me

“You wanna talk about it?” Jeff asked, awake at two am because of Kent’s screaming. Again. Jeff sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

“No,” Kent said. He was sitting up in bed, one hand pressed to his forehead.

Jeff frowned, flipping on the lamp. “Dude, I’m – you know you do this all the time, right?”

Kent glanced at him, frowning. “What?”

Keep reading

black academy translation: prologue

i have a confession…… i just ordered the first novel, black academy, too. it seems like there’s a lot of info about hiraga so i couldn’t NOT buy it. it should arrive soon after the game of angels and demons does. for the time being, i translated part of the prologue, which can be previewed on amazon. make sure you read the whole thing because there’s no straight explanation for any of this.
this is taking place on christmas eve.


Father Roberto Nicholas changed into the new vestments(1) he had prepared for this day and headed out. He greeted fellow coworkers and superiors that he passed by in whispers, but his goal was the home of Japanese priest employed by the Vatican, Father Hiraga Josef Kou. His home was a small, white, one-story house located near St. Peter’s Basilica. However, at a glance, it didn’t seem as if anyone lived there at all. The narrow, aisle-like courtyard was overgrown with weeds, and the mailbox was crooked and rusted. On top of that, the curtains were always closed.

He rang the doorbell countless times, but there was no answer. Roberto turned the doorknob. The door wasn’t locked; that was proof that Hiraga was home. When he wasn’t there, the door was locked. Roberto opened the door, entered the home and called Hiraga’s name loudly. When he did, there was a loud sound of something falling far away and running footsteps. Then, Hiraga appeared in wrinkled pajamas, half asleep, and with messy hair, holding a bundle of clothes. Peeking into the house over Hiraga’s shoulder, he could see a large number of notes scattered across his entire bed, and clothes were sticking out of all of the open drawers in his wardrobe. Looking at the large celestial globe laying on the bed, the loud noise from earlier must have been the sound of that falling from the desk and onto the bed. In any case, Hiraga, as well as the inside of Hiraga’s home, clearly indicated that he was in a panic.

Looking in the room, there were many useless things sitting around. About half of the room was covered in junk. There was a kaleidoscope, a telescope, knights armor from the Middle Ages, gadgets whose use were a mystery to Roberto, and even a dreamcatcher and other such heathenistic things.

In any case, it was absolutely needless to say that Hiraga was a man who didn’t have any interest in the mundane.

As I expected… Roberto thought.

“Seems like you haven’t gotten ready yet, huh?”

When Roberto said this, Hiraga more or less stammered, “I-I was just looking for the vestments I wore for Christmas last year. I thought I had put them away in my drawer, but I can’t seem to find them.”

Hiraga was desperately looking for his vestments.

“Looking for things doesn’t suit you. Why don’t you take a shower and fix your hair instead? I’ll look for your clothes instead.”

“I see. I’ll leave that to you, then. Thank you as always, Father Roberto Nicholas.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m used to it.”

Hiraga turned and noisily padded into the bathroom. Roberto then heard the sound of the shower soon followed by a hair dryer. It seemed he had started getting himself ready.

Roberto was thoroughly familiar with this house, and he found Hiraga’s vestments in his second dresser in the blink of an eye.

“Why couldn’t you find these… And they’re so wrinkled.”

With no choice, Roberto took the ironing board from beside the wardrobe and laid the vestments out on it.

“Did you find them?”

Hiraga appeared from the bathroom half-naked. His body was very slender and delicate. Being Japanese, he was pale, his ivory skin radiant. His straight black hair was exotic. His almond shaped eyes were hidden under his long eyelashes, and the bridge of his nose was high and narrow. His lips were surprisingly sexy and sensual. He had an appearance fit to be a woman. However, his seemingly strong-willed, straight dark eyebrows seemed to refute that.

“Found them. I’m ironing them now.”

When Roberto said this, Hiraga said “I’ll do it myself,” and took the iron from Roberto. Holding it with uncertainty, he began ironing. Roberto sat down in a nearby chair and gazed at the form of this young Japanese priest who he loved from behind. After almost an hour, he finished ironing.

While changing into his vestments with some excitement, Hiraga said, “It’s finally tonight. This is my first Christmas during a Jubilee year(2). I’m nervous, especially because it’s the Great Jubilee(3).”

Roberto walked up to Hiraga, who was looking in the mirror and standing stiff, and patted his shoulders.

“You don’t need to be nervous. Just because it’s the Great Jubilee doesn’t mean we have to do anything special. That being said, there’s still a lot we have to do. Let’s hurry and head to the church.”

[OMITTED SECTION: a description of what a Jubilee year is. See my notes at the bottom.]

Hiraga nodded, and Roberto wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gave a small wink, and began walking.



(the author literally stopped and gave a long explanation of what a jubilee year is and i just. did not feel like translating that.)

1. This refers to specifically special vestments worn for Christmas – priests wear white robes for Christmas.

2. “In Judaism and Christianity, the concept of the Jubilee is a special year of remission of sins and universal pardon. In the Book of Leviticus, a Jubilee year is mentioned to occur every fiftieth year, during which slaves and prisoners would be freed, debts would be forgiven and the mercies of God would be particularly manifest.”

3. “The Great Jubilee in 2000 was a major event in the Roman Catholic Church, held from Christmas Eve (December 24), 1999 to Epiphany (January 6), 2001. Like other previous Jubilee years, it was a celebration of the mercy of God and forgiveness of sins. The major innovation in this Jubilee was the addition of many “particular Jubilees” for various groups of persons, and that it was simultaneously celebrated in Rome, Israel, and elsewhere in the world.”

NOTE: It does not state what year this novel is taking place in.


  • yes, the sexy lips™ scene was here, too. i have absolutely NO idea why it’s repeated almost word for word in the second novel…
  • roberto deadass just watched hiraga iron from behind for almost an entire hour and i don’t know what to do with this information. i’m not saying roberto just stared at hiraga’s ass for an hour, BUT,
  • i want to make the wording for that part clear: roberto was staring at what hiraga looks like from behind, not just “looking at hiraga from behind.” it’s small difference in nuance
3

april study challenge / 10/04/17 What are some of your general study tips?

  • plan EVERYTHING! don’t worry if sometimes it doesn’t work out (!) but while making the plan for any work/paper/exam session you have to think through everything that you should do and i just find having a plan very comforting and calming
  • having said that don’t burden yourself with lots of work you can’t do. especially if you have motivation problem/you procrastinate/have mental problems that sometimes stop you from working. think about what you really are capable to do, take small portions of work (i’m gonna make a separate post on how i study later on in the month)
  • find out what’s your passion and try to think of ways to include that in projects/papers for subjects you don’t enjoy
  • get involved with stuff! i know, it’s the hardest thing ever, i hate it i hate interacting with people and all but i made it my point to say yes to things and mostly i was glad after all that i decided to do it. someone asks for help organising some event, there’s some study club or an additional class - try it, you get experience and it helps to make friends
  • don’t stress out about grades from subjects that don’t interest you at all as long as you pass. idk about different school systems but for me i had few subjects that i didn’t like and i knew they’re of no use for me later so i just made sure i pass and didn’t pressure myself for more
  • read books and articles about things that interest you, one day they might be useful
  • even if you have a plan for what you want to do later with your life, don’t block out other things that seem unimportant to you. seen and heard about so many people changing the courses or entire degree after first year of uni just bc it turned out to be different than they expected. also don’t be afraid to change your course if you feel unhappy where you are
  • ALSO STAY HYDRATED, TAKE YOUR VITAMINS (AND CHOCOLATE) AND GO ON WALKS,  DISCOVER EVERY SINGLE CORNER OF YOUR DISTRICT (if it’s save lol)

sorry if it’s crap!

Shape of You - Part 2

Summary: Y/N grew up with Jack and was constantly told that one day they’d fall madly in love, after Jack rescues her from a dangerous situation at the club, they both reconsider the possibility of telling each other how you feel.

Word Count: 2673

Trigger Warnings: Mention of previous sexual harassment, Swearing

Requested: Yes - Part 1 is here

Author’s Note: The response to part one was so unbelievably wonderful! thank you guys so much, I hope this part satisfies your cravings! Please send feedback/requests/etc :)

Originally posted by iheartmyyoutubers

Jack wasn’t entirely sure when he’d started looking at you differently. He’d known you since he was five years old, and you’d always just been this annoying little swot who laughed too much. 

He supposed that it had started right after he’d broken up with his high school girlfriend, you were the only one who hadn’t treated him as if he were made of glass but instead just listened to him rant and rave while continuing to get drunk with him. You didn’t pity him or try to give him advice; you’d just listen to him and then tell him that one day it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Then one day he realised that you weren’t really that annoying anymore, and merlin, where had those legs and that arse come from? Gone was the bookish little kid with no shape, you were a full blown woman and had the physique to match it.

Naturally, his first response to this had been to bury it down deep inside of himself and tried to push it away by having as many girls in his bed as he possibly could. He knew that if he tried something and it went arse-up then he’d have all of the boys plus his family to deal with, so he pretended it wasn’t there, literally burying himself into other girls.

Still, he couldn’t help the lingering stares that lasted just that little bit too long; the way his eyes would run up and down the length of your body, the little swoop that his gut did when he saw you laughing or smiling at something in the back of a vlog, and worst of all, the blind rage that coursed through him when he caught anyone else looking at you the way he did.

When he had seen that scum with his grubby mitt’s all over you, he had seen red, he had wanted to rip that dirtbag fucking limb from limb and had been fully prepared to, until he saw you. You looked so scared and so vulnerable, the same way you had when you’d broken your arm when you were seven and he just wanted to get you out of there and take you home, so that was what he did.

After you had finished having your panic attack on the sidewalk, he had scooped you up and gotten you both into the back of the uber to take you home. Exhausted from the events of the night, you had dozed off to the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair gently.

 You only woke up when he placed you down on his bed, your fingers curling around his wrist when he went to walk away. His head snapped back to you, and then down to your dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Please don’t leave,” you pleaded with him softly, your eyes heavy with sleep and exhaustion, “I promise I won’t try and cuddle you or anything, but just stay, please,” you rambled sleepily, making him smile at you gently. Before he could stop himself, he leant down at brushed his lips against your forehead gently, revelling in the small upturn of your mouth.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want,” he whispered into the dark as he slid into the opposite side of the bed. Truthfully, he was hoping that you’d end up rolling over in your sleep and snuggling up to him; he could go back to ignoring his feelings tomorrow, but for now, he could be in his own private bubble with you and enjoy the perks that came with that.

He swore he must’ve been dreaming when he heard the soft, “I love you, Jack,” fall from your lips.

You know how in the movies, you see the leading lady wake up gently and gracefully with birds chirping in the background? Yeah, that definitely wasn’t how you woke up the following morning.

Your hair was tangled in the braid you had put it in the night before and your eyelashes were somewhat stuck together from not washing off your makeup, and instead of your party dress, you were wearing a very large, though admittedly very soft, long sleeved shirt.

Something else wasn’t adding up, your bed most definitely was not this soft; it was often lumpy with springs that stuck out and bounced more than anything. This bed was like a fluffy cloud wrapped in a hug. Suddenly the night before rushed back to you and your eyes snapped open, noting immediately that your cheek was pressed to a very warm and very bare chest.

“I was wondering when you might wake up,” the chest rumbled as you moved your head up to look at Jack Maynard. Groaning, you immediately rolled onto your back, missing the brief look of hurt and longing that passed over his face.

“What time is it?” You asked him with a groan, rubbing your hand over your eyes hurriedly. You had originally planned to sneak out early and hide in your bed for the rest of the weekend, you really didn’t want to outstay your welcome, as much as waking up in his bed had been a dream, you didn’t want to get used to it.

“A little after ten, why? You wanna track down that guy from last night?” He sneered, crossing his arms across his chest tightly. You tried not to swoon as you peeked over at him, his biceps bulging as he scowled at you.

“I had it under control, Jackson, I didn’t need a knight in shining armour,” you scoffed, feeling the anger bubble to the surface as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position in his bed, crossing your own arms across your chest as a scowl of your own spread across your face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! He had you in a death grip and was two seconds away from dragging you out of there by your hair!” He exclaimed, twisting his torso to face you, his face twisted into a look of disdain.

“I would have handled it, Jack! I’m not one of your fan girls who’s sitting around and waiting for you to rescue me! I learned how to save myself a long time ago!” you hissed at him, throwing the blankets off of your legs and jumping out of the bed.

“I never said you were one of them! Fucking hell, Y/N, why is everything a bloody fiasco with you!” He shouted as he followed you out of the bed, groaning internally as you began collecting your clothes from the night before – this was not how he had planned on this morning going. You were supposed to wake up in his arms, and then he’d offer you breakfast, and then tell you that he loved you too and wanted to be with you properly.

“I don’t even understand why you were there, Jack! Y/C/N made sure that you weren’t going so she could set me up!” You shrieked back at him as you whirled around to face him, realising far too late that you should probably have kept your mouth shut.

“What do you mean she made sure I wasn’t going?” He demanded, taking a step towards you, and then another one when you stepped back further, continuing until your back hit his bedroom wall. “You could have gotten seriously hurt last night, Y/N! And she was nowhere to be found! Conor had to call me because he was scared that scumbag was going to do something to you!” he continued shouting, even though he was centimetres from your face.

You shrunk back as much as you could, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes again. Jack never yelled at you, sometimes the two of you would bicker or snap at each other but he never outright yelled in your face.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry you had to come all the way out there and rescue me because I couldn’t fight him off! I’m sorry you had to carry me out of the uber and I’m sorry that you had to wake up to me in your bed instead of some mega hot babe!” You exclaimed, your voice shaking as you tried your hardest not to burst into tears.

Jack’s entire being softened, as though the fight had completely vacated his body, and he brought a hand down to rest on your cheek, frowning when you flinched at the contact, that familiar look of vulnerability on your face breaking his heart.

“You think I’m mad at you because of that? Y/N you scared me half to death! When Conor called me, I thought I wasn’t going to get there in time and you were gonna get hurt, babe,” he spoke softly, a small but serious smile on his face when you melted into his grasp, “I was ready to rip that piece of trash to shreds, but as soon as I got there, you looked so relieved and I just wanted to take you home. I don’t care about having to save you or carry you or wake up next to you, I just needed you to be safe,” he finished, bringing his other hand up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear like he had the night before.

You nodded quickly, blinking back tears as you leant your face into his palm that remained on your jaw. “I’m so sorry Jack,” you whimpered, letting out a shaky breath when you broke eye contact, “I should have known better,” you whispered dejectedly.

Jack let out a soft sigh before pulling you forward and into his chest, one hand stroking the back of your hair gently and the other curled around your hip, holding you against him. You buried your face in his neck, sagging against him as you felt a wave of exhaustion roll over your entire body.

Slowly, you pulled back from his grip, looking up at him carefully and noticing for the first time how pink and perfectly pouted his lips were, as well as how blue his eyes were from this close up, the tiny flecks of grey and green in his iris’ standing out to you.

“Did you mean it? What you said last night?” he whispered to you, his arms wrapped loosely around you as your hands rested on his shoulders, both of you afraid to break the moment. Wait, what on earth had you said last night? You racked your brain trying to figure out what you could have said or done.

“I don’t remember, what did I say?” you asked somewhat frantically, pulling your head back further to look at him properly.

“You uh,” he started, biting his lip and seemingly debating whether to continue, good god what had you done? “You told me you loved me,” he finished, watching you carefully.

Oh, fuck. You don’t know what you were expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Shit.

“I said what?!” you yelped, ripping yourself away from him as you began pacing back and forth in front of him, you had really done in this time. What on earth were you fucking thinking?!

“Oh my god, this is horrible! This is the worst thing I’ve ever done!” You wailed, speaking solely to yourself now, “Now you’re gonna tell me that I’m like the kid sister you’ve never wanted and say we can still hang out but we can’t because it’ll be all weird and then the boys will find out and they’ll be weird around me so I’ll have to stay away so I don’t make them uncomfortable and then your parents will find out and so will mine and my aunt and uncle and oh my god, I’ll never be able to go home again!” You stressed out, wheezing in and out as you began hyperventilating.

“Y/N …” Jack started, but it went over your head as you seemed to pace so quickly that you were almost sprinting in front of him.

“And then when Conor and Y/C/N get married I won’t be able to be maid of honour because everyone will feel awkward! Oh my god, what have I done?!” You screeched, surely having captured Josh and Conor’s attention by now.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jack groaned, wrapping his hand around your wrist the same way you had done to him the night before and using it to pull you against his chest tightly, he used the other hand to push his fingers through your hair and pulled your mouth to his harshly. All of this happened in a manner of seconds.

Your eyes widened in complete shock and awe, not knowing what to do or how to react. Until it occurred to you that he was kissing you. Jack Maynard was kissing you and you were standing there like a shop mannequin! Who knew when this was going to happen again?

Before he could pull away, you stood up on your tip toes and used his shoulders to pull yourself up to his level. You shivered as you felt his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your back, opening your mouth slightly when he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth. You felt him grinning into the kiss, giggling as he pulled back, pressing chaste pecks to your lips as he mumbled against them.

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, “I’ve loved you since you threw water on Conor’s shorts and told everyone he wet himself,” he chuckled, pulling back and looking at your face. You blushed under his strong gaze, looking down and your feet and giggling as he dug his fingers into your sides.

“Is this how you treat all of your overnight guests?” You asked him cheekily, stepping closer to him so you were almost chest to chest. He smirked at you, running his hands from your ribs down your sides and behind your thighs, his smirk deepening when you gasped as he hoisted you up and around his waist, your nails digging into his bare shoulders.

“Oh Sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly, “If you had been an overnight guest, you would not be wearing clothes right now,” He smirked, running his nose down the length of your neck and nuzzling into your collarbone. This was a different side of Jack then you’d ever experienced, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

Hooking one of your hands under his chin, you dragged his face up to yours and pressed your mouth against his, letting out a soft moan as he dug his fingers into your inner thighs and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his blonde locks, tugging on them slightly and giggling at the grunt that left his mouth.

Pulling away, you looked down at his flushed face, his lips cherry red and swollen, glistening with saliva as he smirked up at you. “If I forget to say it, I love you too,” you smiled shyly, already feeling a blush creep up from your chest. He grins at your confession, before dropping you on his bed. You squeal as you bounce on his mattress, “You know, you have an extremely comfortable mattress,” you giggle as he crawls up towards you, caging you between his arms and the plush bed.

He chuckles as he leans down to press a kiss against the base of your throat, smirking at your sudden intake of breath as he worked on leaving a mark on your neck, the sight of the bruises that man had left on you last night stirring up something primal deep within him.

“Oh Baby, you have no idea.”

Post Its (Jimin Oneshot)

Pairing: Jimin/Reader

Idea Started: September 2016

Words: 3285

Posted: August 31st 2017

Author’s notes: For Megan, because I know how much you love your dorky boy in his big sweaters. I hope Seoul is amazing for you. <3 @jiminlush 



In your own experience, college could be summed up in a matter of six statements…

1) Too much alcohol and not enough studying.

2) I could buy a salad but cup noodles are only 99¢.

3) What day of the week is it again?

4) Wait, this isn’t my class…

5) I thought that assignment was due next week…fuck.

6) I haven’t slept in three days.

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I’m honestly disappointed in the Samurai Jack ending. It was a terrible ending to an incredible series. And this isn’t just because of me shipping Jashi, though it’s part of it.

One, I’m honestly tired of seeing love interests being axed off for the sake of added tragedy. And that’s what this was, because otherwise, Ashi would have vanished right when Aku was destroyed. This was done in a way that wasn’t logical, but hurt more. When romances are built up, I want to see them actually happen. If one of them dies (or vanishes), I don’t want to feel like I’m being manipulated into sobbing.

Two, this ending means that no one in the future exists anymore. The Scotsman, the Guardian, the Spartans, the Woolies, the ravers, everyone. They either don’t exist, or are so different, that they are entirely different people. After years of seeing this world and its people develop, we’re stuck with the knowledge that none of them exist. Not that they’re dead, which I could handle, but that none of them exist.

On that note, I would have been happier if Ashi had sacrificed her life to defeat Aku and was killed in that way. But no. She just doesn’t exist anymore.

I know that the ending was supposed to be bittersweet and meaningful, but I actually feel nothing.

My Harry Potter: Harry/Voldemort or Harry/Tom Fanfiction Recs

I’ll keep updating this list as I find new favorites.

Ordered in overarching categories, and sometimes in sub-categories.

I sometimes put spoilers in those personal notes, because they’re for my own reread/recognition purposes. So if you don’t want to be spoiled about the story, skip over the crossed out lines.

These are only some of my Harry Potter fanfiction recs—the ones for the pairing Harry Potter/Voldemort or Harry Potter/Tom Marvolo Riddle. You can also check out my Harry/Draco rec list or my Harry: Other Slash list. For the links to all my other rec lists, go here.

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Broken Promises

Title: Broken Promises

Request (by anonymous): Hey! So you know the imagine you just did with Sam going off to college and the child conversation with the reader and Dean ? Can you do a part two kind of when it’s years later and you haven’t seen Sam and Dean in a VERY long time and you’ve become such an impressive hunter. They end up running into each other on a hunt and there’s some bitterness and stuff! Thanks

Prompt: Now 20 years old, Sam and Dean’s little sister runs into her brothers after not seeing them for 7 years. Old issues from the past resurface when her brothers ask her if she wants to join them. 

Pairing: Winchesters x sister!reader Warnings: Slight mentions of blood, decapitated vamp

Author’s Note: I know this is different because the reader isn’t a child, but give it a shot!

 Part 2 to this imagine (read it first!)


Your name: submit What is this?

You wiped off the blood on your machete on the dead vamp’s jacket. He had seemed to be the last one. You had just single handedly cleared an entire vampire nest. Not bad for a 20 year old hunter. As you climbed down the stairs to leave, you heard the rumble of an engine.

“Crap. More vamps?” You muttered, hurriedly positioning yourself to where you had a clear view of the doorway, but hidden so whoever entered wouldn’t see you. You heard two pairs of footsteps on the wooden porch outside.

Two males. 180-200 pounds each. You assessed, tightening your grip on your machete. Well, ridding the world of two more vampires wouldn’t hurt. The two men opened up the front door and crept silently through.

That’s weird. You thought, furrowing your brow slightly. Why would vamps feel the need to sneak into their own home?

You shrugged and reached up behind you, fingers finding the light switch. Since vampires had perfect vision in the dark, why not make it fair and turn on the lights?

The two guys paused in front of a decapitated vamp. One of them knelt down next to the corpse.

“Check it out,” He said to the taller one. “His head’s gone.”

His partner knelt down next to him and placed his hand on the body. “Body’s still warm, Dean. This is recent.”

Hold up, Dean? You peered through the dark at the two men. And was that…Sam? Holy crap, it was them! They looked older, but there was no doubt you were looking at your two older brothers. No wonder the voices sounded familiar. You stood up and flicked the light switch on, causing the two men to swivel around with their machetes raised. They spotted you and their mouths dropped open.

“Y/N?” Dean muttered, looking you up and down.

“Hey guys.” You greeted. “Long time no see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one that cleared that vamp nest back there?” Dean asked, opening himself another beer. After much persuasion, you had agreed to follow your brothers back to their motel room to catch up. On the way there, you had pondered on whether or not you should just drive back to your motel room and leave town. I mean, you hadn’t seen your brothers in what, 7 years? And now they wanted to “catch up”? But you had decided against it, pulling in next to the Impala (which still looked as beautiful as you remembered) and entered Sam and Dean’s room.

“Yup.” You nodded, loosening your hair from the hair tie you had bound it with before the hunt.

“Wow…seriously?” Dean said, a proud look on his face. “That’s actually kinda awesome.”

The next hour, you and your brothers caught up with each other, telling stories of memorable hunts. Although it felt nice, you knew you couldn’t stick around. There was a reason you had distanced yourself from your brothers.

“Alrighty guys,” You began, standing up. “It’s been awesome seeing the two of you again, but I really should get going.”

“Whoa wait, hang on.” Dean protested, standing up. “What’s the hurry?”

You sighed and shrugged on your leather jacket. Of course this wouldn’t be easy. “Like I said, I really should get going.”

“Y/N, we haven’t seen you in years.” Sam added, standing next to Dean. “And now you’re just gonna take off?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back the words that you wanted to say. If only they knew…

“It was nice seeing you guys.” You stated firmly, heading for the door.

“So you’re just gonna take off on your family?” Dean called out.

You paused and turned around to face him.

“Yeah Dean, I am.” You replied, glaring at him. “But don’t sweat it, I’m just doing what everyone else in my life has done: I’m leaving. And besides, if you haven’t noticed, ‘family’ hasn’t meant much to me in the last couple of years.”

You turned around to leave when you felt a hand grab your arm. You looked up to meet Dean’s green eyes. “Y/N, what is this all about?”

“You really don’t know?” You scoffed, shaking your arm free from your older brother’s grip.

Dean shook his head. “No kiddo, I don’t.”

You lowered your eyes. Was it time to tell your brothers why you had kept yourself apart from them all these years?

You sighed and looked back up at Dean. “Do you remember when I was little and I asked you why Sam had left for college?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “We were staying in that cabin up in Minnesota. You had a hard time understanding why Sammy had left. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Dean, it has to do with everything.” You replied, years of suppressed anger bubbling inside of you.

“Sam left, then dad, then you. When I was 8 years old, you promised you wouldn’t leave me. When I was 12 and you dropped me off at Bobby’s when you went to go look for dad, you promised you’d find him and keep him safe. But guess what? None of that happened. My whole life’s been nothing but broken promises.

"You know, the last time I even saw you and Sam was when you stopped by Bobby’s to tell me dad had died. And then the two of you took off! I was 13 years old, Dean. You couldn’t have just, I don’t know, stuck around a little longer to see how I was dealing with the fact that my father had just died?!?”

“Y/N,” Dean began softly, but you cut him off.

“No, you listen to me.” You demanded, voice shaking as tears threatened to spill out. “You and everyone else left, Dean. And it was up to me to keep myself together. So I’m sorry if I’m a little reluctant to be a family again.”

Tears dripped down your face. “You and Sam have left before. What’s to stop you from leaving again?”

You looked away and wiped at your tears. The room was silent except for the sound of your sniffles.

“So that’s why you’ve kept yourself away?” Sam asked softly, breaking the silence. “All these years?”

You nodded, still avoiding your brothers’ eyes.

“Y/N, why don’t you have a seat?” Dean said, placing his hand on the small of your back.

You allowed him to guide you to the edge of a bed. He and Sam sat down on the bed in front of you.

“Kiddo,” Dean began, leaning forward and looking you in the eye. “I know that growing up was tough without us or dad around, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep running away from us. I know that we’ve failed you, but Sammy and I love you very much. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you.”

“Then why did you leave?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you cared so much, why’d you leave me all by myself?”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked over at Sam.

“Y/N, I know that… we weren’t there when we should’ve been.” Sam confessed. “And that…leaving you behind maybe wasn’t the best choice, but believe me, we care about you.”

“I know that we can’t go back and fix the past.” Dean added, getting up to sit on the bed beside you. “But, who’s to say we can’t start over? I mean come on, we could be the Three Musketeers again…”

You smiled softly. You had dubbed you and your brothers the 'Three Musketeers’ when you were little. Was Dean right? Could you forget the past and join them? You’d had a rough childhood on your own, but that was over. Maybe it was time to be a family with your brothers again…

“So a family, huh?” You said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Y/N, you’ve always had one.” Sam said, coming over to sit on the other side of you. “We just needed to find you.”

You grinned and nodded. “That’s true.”

“So you’ll hang with us?” Dean asked. “The 3 Winchesters together again?”

“Yeah.” You answered, looking up at him. “I’ll stick around.”

Dean extended his pinky and held it out towards you. “Promise?”

Your heart twinged as you remembered 8 year old you doing this to Dean back at that cabin. You smiled softly and held out your own, wrapping it around his.

“I promise.”

5

Just remember, these are only suggestions and I am by no way saying my method is perfect, but this is how I’ve been taking my notes for almost two years and it’s the method I’m most comfortable with. The best thing to do is find a method that matches your learning style and needs.

1. Do yourself a favor and go and buy an entire shop worth of different coloured pens. For me, coloured pens are my best friend. I have dozens from various brands - mainly staedtler, papermate and bic - which are always used and abused on a daily basis.

2. COLOUR CODE! this makes reading your notes and finding information in a flash so much easier. The second picture is a photo of the notes I took from my school website about my Politics course. As you can see, I’ve used blue for the titles, purple for the basic information and green for all important dates and percentages. I usually use at least three colours for my colour coding.

3. Always copy down the learning intention/objective or the point in your syllabus that you are covering in that class. It is essential for revising. I actually take my syllabus and write down the date during which I completed the work for that section and basic notes - essentially the bare minimum of what I need to know, like micro notes - this is easier to do if a learning intention is placed at the top of your work, or even the number of the point in the syllabus you are covering in that class.

4. Highlights are the best thing in the world. You’ll find this out fairly quickly. They go hand in hand with using pens. Again, I assign one colour for each different element of my work. For example, I used pink for the key points of my learning intention, orange for the most important terms that are likely to appear on a test or that may need to be used in an essay - think of what might be BUZZ WORDS for an exam or piece of coursework as you read through your work, this makes doing essays, homework or flashcards so much easier - important dates are highlighted in yellow and pieces of legislation are highlighted in green. The title of any parliamentary department is in blue.

5. For all my history or politics students I find that doing timelines are great. Again, I’ve used a basic three colour system. Additional/background information is in green; this is very similar to little ‘don’t forget’ notes and can be great to revise right before a test or exam to make sure you know the basic information. All dates are in blue so they stand out as soon as you open the page. The main events are then in brown. I suggest trying to stay away from complimentary colours such -such as like pairing pink and purple together - as you won’t get such a stand out affect as I have here.

7. Although it isn’t shown here, I always write down the chapter and page number for my textbook that goes hand in hand with my notes, this helps out a ton and saves so much time [You won’t be that student who spends half the class trying to find a page in their textbook!}

Best of luck! If you have any questions or concerns, drop me a message.

pll shippers as high school students before school starts again
  • ezria: *finishes great expectations* well now that i've completed dickens' works, i suppose i'm ready to move onto austen, maybe throw some fitzgerald in there. i can't wait to see the reading list.
  • spaleb: *frantically looks through notes* I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT A DERIVATIVE IS *chugs another energy drink and throws it over their shoulder* I NEED MORE CAFFEINE
  • spoby: my notebooks and folders are color-coded, my backpack is packed, and i just bought twenty highlighters in all different colors
  • haleb: *glances at the calendar* shit it's august already??? WAS I ASLEEP FOR TWO MONTHS???
  • emison: *has outfit laid out, outfit is on fleek* i'm so ready to be a flawless bitch this year
  • vandermarin: *diabolically planning how to take over the entire school this year* MWAHAHAHAHA
  • vandergomery: *skips the first day because yolo*
  • hannily: *covers their head with their pillow as alarm goes off* I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT HELLHOLE
First Days

I have officially been a resident physician for two whole days, and it’s terrifying!  Every note I sign and every order I place is anxiety producing.  I am in a bit of a strange circumstance because I don’t have a senior on service (I am on the only service without one), just a fellow who is mostly cross covering (i.e. not there).  Luckily my patient’s have been great, as have the nurses and staff.

I am still getting used to being called doctor.  I imagined that starting intern year would feel pretty similar to my Sub-I, but it is entirely different knowing that I am actually making real decisions and that my notes really count for something.  Hopefully I will have more updates and real stories soon.  Until then, I will keep faking it until I make it.

You Did It - Finn Bálor One-Shot

Request: You should write one where the reader finally graduates from the University, and Finn is there when she gets her degree, and maybe Finn throws a small surprise party for her, where he invites you guy’s friends, and later the reader and Finn have a moment by themselves where the reader thanks Finn for helping her get through it, just cute and fluff.

A/N: This was pretty cute. :) Thanks for the idea! Kinda love this one because now comes the time reader’s hard work and dedication has paid off! You guys remember when they were so stressed at one point! I already have reader & Finn married when the choice to get her degree started. :)

Also, I consider this an AU where reader isn’t in the WWE. Everything goes the same, just that bit is different.


Originally posted by thearchitectwwe


“I have no idea why I’m so nervous.” You chuckled, gripping your gown tightly in your hands. You looked over towards the dresser to see your cap sitting there, staring directly at you. Today you would finally walk across the graduation stage and receive your diploma. Your four years of hard work was finally paying off today. The sleepless nights dedicated to studying, your thoughtfulness hidden inside your thousands of notes, and all the encouragement from your wonderful husband is what kept you sane the entire time.

“I’m so proud of you.” Finn whispered into your ear, his arms snaking around you from behind. You felt him press his lips against your neck, making chills run up your spine. You giggled, resting your hands over his. “You’re the best.” You giggled, turning around in his arms. You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss against his lips, feeling as he returned it seconds later. 

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