One of my favorite people hit it on the head today when he said I need to learn patience… He was speaking of bacon.. but it is applicable in all areas of life. He didn’t realize how applicable his suggestion was.
Today is my favorite cousin’s birthday…he has been gone now for 15 years. I miss him daily and appreciate his influence in my life.
I really love bacon… Who doesn’t?? But these people for whom i care….it is an exercise of patience and trust to not be in their physical presence for me. I know they are where they should be and not really gone… But still.
On special days like today, I try to honor them by doing things they would do if they were here. So I get to build beautiful memories instead of just missing those for whom i care.
I’m not even sorry anymore. Rank T to be safe. Pardon my gramma mistakes. Or not. No, actually, don’t.
DannyMay Day Sixteen “Shitty Danny Phantom AU/Memes”
“Shitty Danny Phantom AU”
Sam and Tucker stepped on the basement of the former Fenton house, each one carrying one bag on their shoulders.
“You sure about this, Sam?” Asked Tucker, glancing uncertainly at the dark, dusty place.
“No…” Said honestly the goth girl. “but I miss him.”
“I miss him too.” He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Loking again at the spooky basement, and then at their bags, the techno geek sighed and said “Let’s just do it.”
They sat everything ready, the candless, the free sace, and the most important, the board.
“Do you know how to do this?” Asked Tuck.
“Of course I know, just make sure not to cut the session suddenly.”
They both sat in front of the Ouija board, and proceeded, all acording to Sam’s knowledge, and called.
“Danny… are you there?”
“It’s us… Tucker and Sam. If you are there, please say something, dude…”
Slowly, the planchette began to tremble on their hands, and moved to point YES.
The duo of teens gasped and looked at each other, contained emotions in their faces, and then nodded solemnly, and Sam proceeded.
“We are gonna ask you somethin’ that only you could know, ok? So we know this is really you.”
“What was your DOOMED password?” Asked Tucker.
There was no response for a few seconds, and then the planchette started moving again.
P A U L I N A F E N T O N S A N C H E Z 4 2
A L L C A P S
“Yeah! That’s totally you!” Cheered the geek, whilst the goth rolled her eyes. “So… how’ve ya’ been?”
They ‘comunicated’ (any other term would have been unfitting) for a while, talking to their dead friend of how much they missed him, his parents leaving the town out of grief, that Jazz sometimes talked with them and she was… coping. Soon, they were saying their usual stuff, school, mean A-listers, that weird new guy Eliot, everything just like before, before the accident.
“So… you know with your dead-person powers the answers to the next test?” Asked Tucker.
D U N N–
A pause, larger than the ocassionals, and when Tucker and Sam started worrying, Danny was back.
U M U S T L E A V E N O W
“What happens? What’s the matter?” Asked a concerned Sam.
H E S C O M I N
G O A W A Y
P L S
Danny was in a hurry, and anything that could scare a dead boy was no good at all.
“Who is him?”
V L A D
N O W L E A V E
“Ok, ok. We must finish the session–”
But before the teens could move after being left by their friend, a breeze came into the basement, and the candles’ lights went off.
years & years (1) - m.dl.c x reader // j.a x reader
Summary: afight over a sandcastle sparks the beginning of a beautiful feud. Warnings: mentions of violence.
you’re five years old, and a boy with tan skin and a mess of dark brown hair kicks your sandcastle down on the first day of kindergarten. he laughs, right in your face, towering over you in khaki shorts and a dark blue polo shirt. when he turns to walk away, you stand up, taking up your plastic shovel, and crack it across the back of his head. he stumbles from the shock, and then bursts into sobs.
of course, this would be when the teacher looks over - and you end up in the time out chair, arms crossed, scowling. in the corner of the room, the boy is snivelling as the teacher checks the back of his head carefully. much to the disapproval of the teacher, your father had to bite back his laughter when she rats you out at home time. as he apologises to the boy’s mother on your behalf, the boy glares at you from the safety of his mother’s side. you’re only children, but it’s the start of a war that will span years and years to come.
you’re eight years old, stepping up to bat for your team in a game of rounders in gym. justin foley is throwing the ball - you hit it, hard, adrenaline soaring through your veins as it flies across the field. you begin the journey around the bases, your team chanting your name the whole way. grinning wide, with the sun on your face and the wind in your hair, you feel so powerful, on top of the world - until a foot goes unnoticed, stuck out in your path, and you trip, crashing to the grass on all fours. glancing up, you meet the self-satisfied smirk of Montgomery de la Cruz, eyes shining maliciously. Getting to your feet, you’re only a few yards away from a home run, when zach dempsey touches the base with the ball. you’re struck out, and shove your way past your enemy fiercely as possible. ‘you’ll regret that,’ you mutter, stalking off the field, watching him take his spot as batter. he gets a home run first try - and is sure to throw you a triumphant smirk.
twelve years old, just hitting that awkward stage of not-quite a
child and not-quite a teenager. you’re just discovering make-up and
kitten heels, alongside your best friend Sheri. these things aren’t
exactly regulation, but you manage to get away with some mascara,
foundation, some red lipgloss that tastes like strawberries and
smells even better. you wear it into school exactly once – and
montgomery hollers across the courtyard that you look like a clown,
he and his friends collapsing in peals of laughter, the sound
magnifying and shattering your confidence. sheri puts her arm around
you and tells you not to listen, that he probably just has a crush
on you – and that in itself almost makes you laugh. because the
idea of that one boy, liking you? was downright hilarious. the whole
day he sneers and jokes at your expense. you keep your head held
high, ignoring him, but when you get home and wipe away the makeup,
tears burn and spill down your cheeks. it’s not the first time he’s
made fun of you, but it’s the first time it’s felt personal.
fourteen years old, a freshman at Liberty High. it’s an exciting
time, nerve-wracking, but exciting. you feel so grown up, with a
fresh backpack, plain black, a clear pencil case packed neatly with
three biros of different colours, clean notepads stacked inside your
locker. for the first week or so, it’s all so daunting, that you
forget about montgomery de la cruz, and he seems to forget about you.
you’re both busy settling in to this new and foreign enviroment,
signing up for extracurriculars, making new friends. the weekend of
your first high-school party is a game-changer, and it’s held at
bryce walker’s house. neither you nor sheri can even believe you’ve
scored an invite – bryce is a whole year ahead of you, already
favourite for varsity captain, a sports legend in the hallways. you
tell your parents you’re going to a sleepover at sheri’s, and the two
of you sneak off in the darkness, headed towards the sound of music
and fun. it’s at that particular party you meet jeff atkins, baseball
player, and level ten hottie. he has the brightest eyes you’ve ever
seen, and one flash of a sweet smile has you completely entranced.
the majority of your night is spent in the kitchen, chatting with
him, connecting on a level that is entirely new to you. nothing
happens, per say, but simply standing there, feeling like it was just
the two of you in that crowded room? it was almost perfect. almost,
because montgomery had taken it upon himself to drag his ass over and
accidentally on purpose spill his drink all down your top, nudging
jeff with his elbow while making some crude joke you don’t even
register. your cheeks are flaming, embarrasment swallowing you whole
– then jeff shakes his head and offers you his jacket, to cover the
wet spot, telling montgomery off for his actions. the look on the
other boy’s face is priceless – like he’s just swallowed a lemon
whole, lips twisted in a snarl, gaze heated and furious on you. jeff
guides you away, and you spare a glance back at the boy who once
kicked your sandcastle down, all those years ago. he’s changed, in
more ways than simply getting taller– his stance is tense, eyes on
fire, a muscle twitching in his jaw. he’s angry, and for a moment,
your heart hurts for him. but then jeff is holding your hand, and
it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, and you forget
everything that isn’t him.
week later, you and jeff are officially dating. he waits for you
outside your classes, walks you to and from your locker, loops his
arm around your waist when you sit together at lunch. you’re walking
on air, floating contentedly through your daily life. the one stain
on an otherwise perfect tapestry is montgomery, who’s words had
become sharper as he directed them towards you, nasty, awful things,
that wind jeff up. they end up fighting, and it stuns you, how
violent montomery could be. his fists don’t stop until zach dempsey
and justin foley are hauling him back, jeff’s lip split and bleeding,
montgomery’s eye already beginning to swell shut. before the
principal drags them both to the office, montgomery catches your eye
– there’s a moment, a strange second, where you see something you
can’t quite explain between the pitch-black fury in his eyes. then,
he spits out some blood, and walks away. after that, he pretty much
leaves you alone – as weird as it sounds, you miss him. you miss
the daily banter, the not-quite friendly, not-quite nasty feud that
had been cultivated over almost ten years. you didn’t notice until he
was gone, how much of a presence he’d been in your life. it saddened
you to think of that stage of your path as over, but eventually, you
accepted it. you were happy with jeff, your grades were steady, and
soon enough, montgomery de la cruz became only a person you used to
I don’t need your honesty
It’s already in your eyes
And I’m sure my eyes, they speak for me
No one knows me like you do
And since you’re the only one that matters
Tell me who do I run to?
Look, don’t get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I’m more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
Cause what if I never love again?
Henry is pretty famous on Instagram and gets the whole group into it. Ronan texts like hell, Blue, Henry and Gansey start a hashtag about how handsome is Adam (#aDAMN), they all use the comments section as a group chat, and they miss Noah A LOT.
They all post (except Henry, ‘cause he is a Blogger™) poor quality pics sometimes, but hey, that’s what normal teenagers do.
A Note: I’ve decided that I’m going to link all seven days together as chronological pieces that could stand alone but fit together nicely.If you want to read them together, you can do sohere.
This isn’t the right time, and Dany knows this. A warning, this is very dark, so if mentions of death disturb you, this might not be a piece you wish to partake in.
When Melisandre had informed her that she believed the both she and The King in the North had something to do with the Prince or Princess that was promised, she hadn’t put too much thought into it. She didn’t much care for, and especially did not trust, people who wielded magic. Magic had killed her Rhaego, her son that she’d never even gotten to hold, and for that she hated even the thought of it. Though magic had given her her dragons, deep down, so deep she could barely admit it to herself, she would have rather had stone eggs and her little boy back. He would have had his fifth name day by now. She could have taken him across the narrow sea, far away from anyone who may kill him for being the son of a Khal. They could have lived a quiet life together with no one around who knew who she was.
Since then, she had hoped to have a babe of her own, one she could hold and love and watch grow old. Just when she’d come to accept that she couldn’t have that, that she was to be the Mother of Dragons, never a man, and her legacy may die with her, she’d met him. He’d planted a small seed of doubt into her mind that maybe she could have that. Maybe that witch had been wrong, because he had said it, and he was so honorable. He couldn’t lie to her, or anyone else. If he said it, he believed it, and that had ignited a spark of hope inside her, only to disappear again. Jon had barely spoken to her since he’d learned the truth of his parentage. She’d told him it didn’t have to change anything. He didn’t have to tell a soul who his father was if he did not wish it, though she knew he was far too honorable to lie about something as big as that. “I don’t want the damn throne, I didn’t want any of this,” he’d said frustratedly, looking up into the leaves of the godswood tree he was leaning against. She had taken his head in her hands, told him that he didn’t need to take it. They likely wouldn’t even survive, and if they did, she could legitimize him as a Stark, the blood of his mother. She’d tried to kiss him, to press her lips against his until he stopped his brooding and calmed down, but he’d pushed her away. “You’re my blood, your grace,” he said it slowly, like he didn’t wish he’d had to say it at all. “We can’t continue on as we have been.” Tyrion had been right all along. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to fall in love with this man, especially now in the midst of war. There was too much going on for her to nurse a broken heart, and so she’d resolved to crush it instead. Bury it under layers and layers of herself like she had the death of her little boy until she could fit her queen’s mask firmly back on and hide it all away.
She been ill as of late, not as ill to suspect she had been poisoned, but enough that she didn’t wish to partake in large amounts of food or drink. Her body ached and she often felt dizzy, but that was to be explained away. The new foods in the north were unfamiliar to her stomach, cold could easily settle in your bones, and perhaps her balance was off from spending too much time on Drogon and not enough on the ground. Soaking in a bath, warm from waters in the hot springs below Winterfell was quickly becoming her favorite time. Finally she could feel light again. Her feet wouldn’t ache so much, and her stomach would settle a bit as she stayed still. The warm water beckoned her to sleep. She was so tired as of late, but there wasn’t time for that, and when there was, she found her bed too cold to offer much comfort at all.
Sitting enveloped in the warm water felt almost like she was being held again. Like she was being held in a warm bed as the sea rocked beneath her. Like Jon was holding her tightly as he had for over a moon on her ship as they sailed here. She missed Jon. She’d see him daily, in small counsel meetings, on the war front as they went on raids with the men who followed them, even sitting, alone for a moment under the godswood where he had told her they couldn’t continue. She hated herself for it, but try as she might, she couldn’t help wishing that he may knock on her door and tell her he had been a fool and he wanted to spend what could be their last few nights together. He might be with her, in the bath, his hands rubbing the pain in her back away. Kissing the bruises between her thighs from too much time spent on dragon back. Giving her something to fight for beyond her duty to her people. Duty was important, but it was cold, and for the Queen in her alone.
She had sent everyone away but Missandei, who was helping her to undo the braids in her hair so she could wash it more thoroughly. The rhythmic tugging and pulling as her hair was slowly undone was familiar were so little else was. That’s when she felt it, a flutter in her stomach that had her leaning over the side of the tub, afraid she might be sick. Her stomach had been upset for long enough that she could never quite tell anymore whether or not she would be, and resigned herself to quietly hope whichever of the new foods upset her stomach, she would eventually get over it. Missandei moved to grab a basin for her, but she stopped her. She had had this feeling before, so long ago she was almost surprised to remember it, and yet how could she not? She moved a hand over her lower stomach, closing her eyes tightly and trying to focus only on that feeling. She could hear her friend asking what the matter was, but it was a far away sound as she felt the same little flutter. It made perfect sense but none at all. Her extended illness. The dizziness. The aches all over her body. She’d felt it all before, but she had been so sure that it couldn’t be that she’d dismissed it. She couldn’t any longer, not when she could feel her womb quickening under the palm of her hand.
She could feel her cheeks dampening with tears and she didn’t even fully understand why. She had wanted a human child of her own so, so badly, but she had already made peace with the fact that she could very well die just days from now. She would die, and so would this life she was carrying within her. This innocent babe, half her, and half the man she couldn’t help but love, no matter how he had distanced himself, would die along with her. Her belly barely had a swell to it. She hadn’t been eating enough, had she? What kind of mother was she, to starve her baby before the child was even born. To condemn the babe to die along with her as it grew, tucked away and unaware. She had wanted this so badly and now it felt like a cruel and sick joke. Missandei was trying to get her attention, she knew it, but she couldn’t even sob. All she could do was let her tears run down her face in a stunned and heavy silence. The Red Woman had been right. This baby, was the child of her, and of Jon, the two pieces that had to fit together to give raise to the one who was promised. Promised to be conceived but not to live.
Should she even tell Jon? He’d made it so clear that they couldn’t be as man and wife while she was his blood, and he hers. He was still so pained over learning the man he’d idolized as a boy was not his father, that the sister and brothers he loved were cousins by blood. So much had been taken from him so quickly, and it had made him cold to her where he had been so warm. How could she give him this burden as well? She herself was crushed under its weight. She didn’t want to crush him too. She loved him. She loved him so much that she couldn’t force this on him. If he managed to live through the battle, and she did not, he wouldn’t have to live with the grief of knowing his son or daughter had died along with her.
“I am fine, Missandei, just an upset stomach,” she said absently to her friend. She couldn’t take her hand away from her belly.
Once Upon a Time: Lana Parrilla divulges why she's here to stay
Once Upon a Time is undergoing a major overhaul heading into season 7, which means new characters, new locales, and even a new curse. To keep track of all the big changes, EW will bring you interviews with the cast — new and old — along with executive producers Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis over the next two weeks until the ABC fairy tale drama’s return.
Following the exits of six castmembers, Lana Parrilla is one of three stars returning full-time for Once Upon a Time‘s rebooted seventh season — and now we know why.
When OUAT returns, viewers will discover that Regina, formerly the Evil Queen, is now a denim-clad bar owner named Roni, who lives in the Seattle neighborhood of Hyperion Heights. No, Parrilla is not playing a brand new character; this is her cursed alter ego.
Here’s what’s happening: When Henry looks to his family for help, Regina is among those who answer the call, which ultimately gets her trapped in Hyperion Heights. But it’s this new version of her character that actually made Parrilla want to return to the world of OUAT as the show undergoes an ambitious reboot. Read our full interview with the actress below to get scoop on Roni. [Editor’s note: This interview was conducted before the news that Rebecca Mader would be returning.]
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Was there something the OUAT bosses said that was instrumental for you in sticking with the show? LANA PARRILLA: Yeah, one thing I think we’ve seen over the years is Regina has had love, she’s lost it, she’s gone through so much tragedy, and changes, and challenges, and I actually started thinking, okay, well, are there more stories to tell, especially with last season with the Evil Queen and Regina, and getting to this place of accepting oneself, and accepting both sides, and really experiencing inner peace, which ultimately is, in my opinion, a great happy ending. However, there’s still more of her story that’s unknown. I know they want to see her happy with someone, and that’s something I want for her as well, and so they said, “We don’t feel like Regina’s story is over yet.” She’s such a beloved character, I love her to bits, I love playing her, I’ve always enjoyed playing her, both sides, all eight different versions, or whatever it is [laughs], and they said, “We still want to tell her story,” and then they pitched the whole idea behind Roni, and how she was going to be the voice for the people. She was going to have a Norma Rae kind of quality to her, which is something that I feel I have anyhow. I’m always defending and standing up for the underdog and the little guy, and so that really resonated with me, and it’s also such a powerful, strong message as a woman to be that kind of leader in a community.
So I thought, “You know what, I like this.” I had no idea that Roni was going to look the way she looks, and I’m still discovering who she is, but it got me really inspired and intrigued, and I felt like I want to do this again, I want to come back, and I want to tell another story, a different side of Regina, but I also want to be able to see if she can find love again, and maybe, hopefully, it won’t be tragically ripped apart from her. So however she finds love, wherever it is, what we notice in the first couple episodes that there’s moments for her, everyone has a partner, everyone’s having babies, everyone’s doing great, and Regina is just enjoying her family and stuff, but there’s something missing.
I had been in a relationship for a while with my best friend and he was the love of my life. It had taken me a while to realise he loved me but once I did, we were inseparable. He stayed for me constantly and was there for me through my depression, my abuse, everything. He meant the world to me. The week before, his dad had had a heart attack but he had gotten better. The next week, his mom had made a bet with him that he couldn’t stay off his phone for a week straight. We made our goodbye’s, our good luck and our I love you’s. I texted him throughout the week and told him I missed him and wished he’d be back soon. In the middle of the week, he was allowed a break and texted me, Hello lovely! I love you and I hope everything’s okay. I promise I’ll be back soon. I promise. I love you.
There was an accident.
He didn’t keep his promise and he couldn’t come back home to me. I miss him daily and I don’t celebrate our anniversary so much as the very first day we met because I’m always going to remember the way he made me laugh even in the worst of my depression. His humor was beautiful and I fell in love with it first.