my hand writing's not the best

Phone Call || Joe Sugg Imagine

A/N — In the midst of writing Anatomy 5 which I’m pretty stuck with, here’s an Imagine. I didn’t really understand the second part of the request, but I did my best with what I could do. Please come let me know what you think x

- Blue x

Requested: Yeah, you lil anonymous sunshine

Warnings: none


— Joe’s POV —

“Hi everyone! Today we are doing a couple prank calls with Y/N here!” I begin, my hands pointing towards her beautified face.

Everyone knew how beautiful she was - the way her dreamy eyes sparkled under the string rays of the sun, the way her laugh could light up a whole room just by happening. It wasn’t hard for her to tackle things, but being with me was one we still hadn’t gotten around to.

No one knew about us; no one knew we woke up next to each other, eyes burning through the sunlight casting through the curtains.

I wanted them to know - so, so badly wanted them to know - but I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“Hi!” She smiles, as a chill runs up my spine courtesy of her effortless beauty.

“Ok, here’s how it works,” I begin, our fingers gently touching under the artificial light, not being able to be seen by the people looking on in a few days, “I put a number of this phone, onto my snapchat ‘by accident’ and obviously - you guys will call it. We’ll pick it up, and yeah there you go.” I continue, my fingers making the famous quotation marks.

I look to her for a second, and my eyes catch hers.

I see excitement - and fear.

She knows what the viewers are like, how protective they get. She’s seen it before. She worries about them knowing about us, whether they’ll be ok with it.

She knows some of them won’t be, but that’s expected.

I put the message on my snapchat, and just as expected - calls flood through like the barriers of a dam had snapped.

“Hello?” She answers, taking the first turn of accepting the expected calls.

“Hi, who’s this?” A girl answers, voice high and shaky - clearly fearing who sits on the other end of the unknown phone number she just called.

“Um, my name is… Gertrude.” She decides, the live wires in her brain working fast to decide a name. The name would be the character made up in our heads in the tiny space of time we had between words shared between the two callers.

“Well you were on Joe Sugg’s Snapchat story, are you his girlfriend?” The young girl asks curiously, the giggles of her friends slightly heard echoing from the background.

“Uh…” She begins, looking to me for confirmation, to which I nod, “yeah, I am actually. Why are people calling me so much?” She continues nervously - attempting to calm her shaking voice.

“Basically, something was put on his story he was meant to send to you I think. I’m not sure what you can do.” The girl on the other end of the phone replies, her brain working just as hard to find a solution for the fake problem she had fallen into.

“I don’t know either, look I’m super sorry but I need to go. Try and stop the calls for me yeah?” She replies, smiling and trying to hide the falter in the tone of her voice.

The phone is put down, and we both turn to the dreaded camera, trying to slow the beating in our chests.

“Yeah, so… ha.” I laugh nervously, my hands rubbing my thighs out of fear, “Yeah, this is Y/N and you guys kinda know her as my friend… but surprise surprise! She isn’t.” I smile, looking to her as she giggles at my nervousness mixing with hers.

“She’s my girlfriend guys, so there ya go! Sugg is not single.” I laugh, as her small hands come up to push me gently laughing.

“Hello! I’ll stay out of the way I promise.” She smiles, still wanting what she always wanted from my career.

She was always accepting of what I did, who I was around. She accepted that what I did was something that brought me so much joy, but also so much attention. She accepted that no matter what happened between us, would always be online but she was ok with everything about that.

Once the camera is turned off, turning off my online life for now, ‘I love you’ is whispered, and we both go about our days as we always did; we both carry on - the weight of the secret finally lifted off our shoulders.

I’m watching the Truth Bombs vid and it’s not even over but officially my favorite moment is “if they were a god what would they be the god of?” being answered for Dan as Dan being the god of Serotonin Deficiencies, Dan’s reaction, Phil thinking that meant he wouldn’t get sunlight, Dan explaining it to Phil, and Tom yelling “Depression memes!” is hands-down the best moment

tmnt1fangirl  asked:

Do the babies like to cuddle in the bed with mikey or Donnie sometimes? Or is that just for Leo and Raph? :) I can’t get over the babies all are so adorable has mikey been around when it’s been time to change them?

cough I didn’t draw them sleeping buuuut yeah they get some time with the babies XD Best Uncles EVAR, in case you cant read my hand writing:

The babies mainly stay with Leo and Raph their first couple of weeks but later on we start to have a LOT more interactions with them, most of the time Art will sleep with me if she falls asleep on my lap. And Mikey fears Yoshi is too weak to be left alone so he sleeps with Yoshi sometimes. Sebastian ONLY sleeps with Raph but he doesn’t mind spending time with his uncles.

Mikey has smelled MUCH worse so he volunteers to change diapers and can usually tell when they are about to potty.

anonymous asked:

You know. I don't think we've ever talked. And yet some how I've come to respect you like the best of my friends. Odd really. To the point, a mutual friend holds you in very high regard. To have earned that makes you wonderful. A wonderful person. On the other hand I know from personal experience the wonder of you writing. I won't drag this on in some overly flashy manner. Just thank you for the gift you give. I can only hope you'll continue.

Originally posted by blackbootyler

excuse me I’m just gonna go die quietly in a corner rn

(thankyouanonI’mblushinglikeafuckingidiotatwork)

I will get mad.” he said while looking directly at her eyes. “Sometimes I will run out of words and be silent for a minute or two. I will get cold when there’s something wrong with my day. I will get tired and feel lousy because of the stress that surrounds me. You see, sometimes I will be a storm to your sunny life. A disturbing wave to your calm tides.” he paused and slowly grabbed her hands. He placed it in his chest and continued, “But you will always have the courage, for you can turn me into something I thought I could never be—in the nicest way possible. Because you can soften everything that hardens my heart. You can break all the walls I’ve built around me. You can always make me happy and I promise that I will do my best to do more than just the same to you.
—  ma.c.a // Light and Darkness
In life, not everyone gets to have a second chance. So when you still have the chance in your hands, please hold onto it dearly. Do not let it slip away. Cherish it like it will be the last time, and make the best out of it.
—  Lukas W. // Last chance
The Fic Writer’s Beatitudes

Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.

Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts.
Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done.
Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work.
Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted.
Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy.
Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive.
Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes.
Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight.
Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.

If you ever feel like you’ve had an unproductive day writing, please know that one time novelist/playwright/essayist Dorothy L Sayers wrote a letter to Bun (her literary agent) that said “herewith the striking results of today’s literary labours” followed by two pages of rabbit sketches.

Back To School Tips Master Post!

I had a few people asking me to do a back to school tips/ how to do well in school post so here it is. I’m a sophomore in college and an honors student so I plan on sharing the things that have helped me succeed. Even though these tips are things I use now in college, most of them I also used in high school so it can be applied there as well. 

Organization                                                                                                           The most beneficial thing you can do is stay organized.

  1. Get a planner.- I bought mine this year at Walgreens for around $7 but it has a plastic cover so all paper ones are even cheaper. A planner is good for keeping track of when everything is due. When I get my syllabi for my classes I go through them and write down the due dates of homework, essays, tests, etc, on the day they are due. You can color code your classes or just write the class next to the assignment. This way you can look at a whole week and see everything you have due for all of your classes in one place. It’s also easier to add in things or make changes if your professor decides to due so.
  2. Use a white board- I know white boards can be expensive, so if you can’t afford one, expo markers will write on laminated paper which you can get for around $4 on Amazon. I use this to keep on my wall and write the next really important date for each class. So I have all my classes listed on the board and let’s say my next big date in Psych is a test. I’d write that date on the board, then after the test, I’d erase it and write the next important date. These dates should be in your planner as well but it’s nice to have them right in front of you at all times so you don’t turn to the next week in your planner and realize you have a test on Monday. 
  3. Buy durable folders- If you’re going to be using your folders all year make sure they’ll last all year. You want to lose any of your assignments. I get plastic folders at Office Depot for $0.39 a piece. I chose a color for each class and write the class at the top in sharpie and I’m good to go!
  4. Notebooks too!- You’re going to be taking a lot of notes so make sure to keep a notebook for each class as well. Mine were $3 each at Office Depot but they have a plastic cover so if you need to save some money get the paper covers because you most likely wont reuse a notebook.
  5. Get a pack of loose leaf paper- Sometimes you have to turn things in and if you’re like me then you hate tearing it out of your notebook. But if you don’t have a problem with that then don’t worry about it!
  6. Use some sort of bag/backpack- This will help you not lose anything plus you can put water, snacks, etc in it as well!

Study Tips                                                                                                               Tests are often the biggest portion of your grade so knowing the best ways to study will help you out the most. 

  1. Figure out what type of learner you are- This can greatly improve your study skills. There are visual learners; these people learn best with charts, graphs, and anything that show a visual relationship between information. So if you’re this type of person, to help study you could make charts, graphs, tables, draws arrows between points of information, or watch videos. Anything to help you see it. There are also auditory learners; these people learn best when hearing the information. So the best way for these people to study is to recite information out loud, or if your course has an audio book to listen to it. You could also have a friend read information to you and you say it as well. Some people are reading/writing learners; they do best when reading the text and writing down important points/taking notes. This is the type of learner I am so to help me study, I write out my own flashcards, I copy power points into my notes, and as I read my chapters I write the important information.  Something else that is good for these kind of learners is to make little quizzes for yourself. There are also kinesthetic learners; they learn best with more hands on activities. This can be hard to do especially with some subjects. If you can physically do what you’re studying then do it. If not, make a game out of it. For example, ask yourself questions and if you get it right take a shot at a basketball hoop or a soccer goal (if you don’t have these things use a paper ball and your trashcan or anything you can substitute. Figuring out which learner you are will greatly improve how you study.
  2. Don’t wait until right before a test- Cramming your brain with all the information a few days before a test will not help you remember and only stress you out. This is called Massed Practice and is proven to be a waste of time and information is not retained well. Study a little everyday or every other day. This is called the Spacing Effect and is proven to improve retention and recall of information. So it is best to do short sessions of study over a long period of time rather than a long session all at once.
  3. Find a good place to study- If you like quiet places and your house/dorm is too loud go to a library or outside if it’ s a nice day.  If you like a lot of background noise play some music or go to a coffee shop.

Overall Tips                                                                                                            These tips are still really important but I don’t have enough that fit together to make another header.

  1. Work on what’s due first- Some people think it’s always best to work on the important things first but that’s not always the case. If your essay is due in two weeks and you have an assignment due in a few days then finish the assignment first. You’ll still have plenty of time for your essay. I suggest doing all your work but if something happens to where you just can’t then yes do the more important thing because it’ll be a bigger part of your grade.
  2. Writing Centers- A lot of colleges/universities have writing centers.  If you’re not the best at writing or just need some help you can make an appointment at the writing center where someone highly qualified in writing will read your paper/essay and help you with grammar, punctuation, idea flow, overall organization etc. I highly suggest checking to see if your school has one of these.
  3. Check your email/Blackboard/whatever your professor uses- This is where they may add extra assignments/ cancel class and not mention it in class. It’s always important to check.
  4. Try to relax- I know it can be hard, especially for students with depression, anxiety, and other mental/physical illnesses but it’s important to always take a moment and calm down. Take breaks from your work and do something you enjoy for at least a few minutes everyday. If you need a nap, take a nap. just set an alarm to pick back up on your work later.
  5. Don’t worry about being perfect- This is still something I’m working on myself but getting better at. Last semester I got a B for the first time since my sophomore year of high school and it bothered me to no end. But, I told myself I did my best, and as a person with bad social anxiety I’m okay with my B in public speaking. So for anyone else who feels like they have to keep their 4.0 all 4 years, don’ t panic if you don’t. There’s nothing wrong with not being perfect, almost no one graduates college with a 4.0. Always do your best, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. I cannot stress this enough.
  6. Take classes you enjoy- Hopefully you’re in a major that you enjoy so you wont hate your classes too much but it’s still important to try to take a fun class every once in awhile. If you like art, take an art class. Then, you’re still doing work but also doing something you like.
  7. Get a tutor- If you’re not doing as well in a class as you would like, don’t be afraid to get a tutor. Most universities offer tutors who are students that would love to help you and wont be judgmental at all. There’s nothing wrong with getting a little extra help and tutors are often people who have already passed the class with an A so they’ll be very good resources.
  8. Take care of yourself- Overall, make sure you’re eating well and drinking water throughout the day. Sometimes it’s impossible, but try to get enough sleep. If you go out to party watch out for yourself and others. Practice self care and if things get too stressful and you need help don’t be afraid to ask.

I know this post is very long, but I wanted to share everything I could for anyone who wanted help. If I think of anything else I’ll definitely add it later. I hope everyone has a great semester and school year! Good luck to everyone!

Sleep tight

“This is ridiculous!”

For once in his life, Harry heartily agreed with Malfoy. This really was ridiculous. What was Dumbledore thinking? True, things had gone a bit out of hand after the last Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin but that didn’t justify… this!

“How am I supposed to concentrate on my O.W.L.s when I have to put up with a bunch of pillocks?!”

“Stop complaining, Malfoy. It won’t change anything,” Terry Boot called from across the dorm. Their newly shared dorm. One student from each house, that was the new rule. Dumbledore had announced it two weeks ago and Harry’s only consolation was that he was still in Gryffindor tower, in his own bed, while the other Gryffindors had moved into other dorms.

Harry still wasn’t convinced this would do anything for house unity. So far, Malfoy had picked a fight with Terry every time they were in the same room and he had even tried to hex Justin Finch-Fletchley once. As much as it annoyed Harry, at least it diverted Malfoy’s attention away from him. He really wasn’t in the mood to fight. He missed Ron. Seeing him in classes but not sharing a dorm just wasn’t the same.

“Potter! Get your filthy Quidditch robes away from my bed,” Malfoy growled, nudging the red and gold robes on the floor with his foot. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Will you relax? They’re nowhere near your bed,” Harry said exasperatedly.

“They are on my side of the room. Have you forgotten everything I told you about boundaries?” Malfoy fumed, drawing an invisible line between their beds with his hand, as he had done on their first day as dormmates.

Harry heard Terry snort.

“You’re one to talk,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that”? Malfoy whirled around and gave Terry a dangerous look. Harry expected them to have another shouting match but Terry just shook his head and waved a dismissive hand in the air.

“If you have something to say, just say it!” Malfoy approached Terry, his hands on his hips.

“You of all people do not want me to say this out loud, believe me,” Terry said unblinking. Malfoy scrutinised him and Harry noticed a strange expression flicker across his face. “Unless you want to explain why these boundaries don’t seem to apply to you. Especially-”

“Are you trying to blackmail me? With something that you clearly imagined?” Malfoy interrupted him. His body was rigid and his face was inches away from Terry’s. The Ravenclaw smirked, his eyes darting over to Harry and then back to Malfoy.

“You know, Malfoy,” Terry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “I always suspected you’d feel right at home in the Gryffindor dorms but I had no idea you’d get that cosy.”

Harry reacted on instinct when he saw Malfoy draw his wand. He grabbed his own from the nightstand and pointed it at Malfoy.

“Expelliarmus,” he yelled. Malfoy’s wand flew across the room and Harry caught it with his free hand. “Seriously, Malfoy? What is wrong with you?” Harry watched as Malfoy’s shoulders slightly slumped. Without another word he stormed out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that all about?” Harry murmured. He gave Terry a puzzled look. The Ravenclaw just sighed.

“Honestly, I don’t want to get in the middle of this, but Malfoy just… ugh!” Terry stomped his foot once and shook his head. “It’s really between the two of you.”

“The two of us?” Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he and Malfoy could be referred to as ‘the two of you’. All he and Malfoy ever did was fight. Or ignore each other. Well, pretend to ignore each other would probably be more accurate.

“I really don’t want to be hexed in my sleep,” Terry groaned. “But… maybe try to be a bit more alert tonight, Harry. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, completely at loss.

“Okay,” he mumbled, wondering what on earth Terry was on about.


Draco sighed as he leaned his head against Harry’s nightstand. It really wasn’t fair. He watched as Harry’s chest rose and fell steadily, his face looking softer than ever in the moonlight. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Slowly, his fingers rose to Harry’s forehead to brush his bangs out of his face. He looked so peaceful.

It really wasn’t Draco’s fault he stayed up night after night to watch Harry sleep like a total creep. The first time it had happened, Draco had been wakened by a soft whimper. Investigating it further, he had seen Harry all sweaty and thrashing in his bed. Draco had intended to wake him, but as soon as he had leaned down, Harry had grabbed him and had pulled him down.

At first, Draco hadn’t been sure if Harry was awake or still asleep. He had gone very still when Harry had clutched at him until he had finally wrapped him in his arms and had almost strangled Draco. His face had been pressed against Harry’s chest, the Gryffindor’s heartbeat drumming against his cheek. It had been the most amazing thing Draco had ever felt.

He hadn’t dared to fall asleep that night. Seeing as Harry had finally calmed down with Draco in his arms, Draco had supposed it would be better to stay there until dawn. With Harry being restless in the bed beside him, he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway.

After that, Draco had made a habit of watching Harry sleep. His touch seemed to calm the Gryffindor whenever he seemed to have a bad dream. But he hadn’t pulled Draco into his bed again. Draco didn’t want to admit to himself that he was secretly waiting for it to happen once more but he found himself leaning closer to his so-called enemy with every passing night.

As his fingers continued to stroke the soft curls, he frowned. No, Harry wasn’t his enemy at night. During the day, Draco kept up his snarky attitude and his animosity. But at night, there was no need for that. At night, he could simply stare at the boy who made his heart beat faster, who made his scalp prickle and who was responsible for the smile Draco had to hide once dawn was breaking.

Sometimes, Draco wished he didn’t have to hide it, could show it openly and let the stupid git know.

It really wasn’t fair.


Harry held his breath when he felt Malfoy’s fingers brush his ear. His heartbeat picked up instantly and he was pretty sure he was blushing. His cheeks suddenly felt really hot, as did the rest of his body.

Keep reading

remember when kilgrave whispered for jessica to tell him she loved him and she looked at trish and said i love you so trish would know she wasn’t controlled by him again but also bc sHE LOVED TRISH

R O M A N C E (poem about glamourising mental-health)

• R O M A N C E •


don’t make it sound romantic,
It’s like drowning in the Atlantic,
it’s not a fan-fic,
I can’t stand it,
so now I’m ranting,
and the notion,
of this emotion is rancid,

OCD is a never-solving riddle,
I don’t ‘wash my hands a little’
or put my stationary in the middle,
it’s bigger than an acronym,
it’s not fun, a fad, that’s rad,
it’s telling my mum and dad,
that the kid they had
is sad,
and quietly going mad;

it’s pills and fluoxetine,
being eighteen, nineteen,
quiet screams,
and routines,
than you follow like an order,
clean your phone, your glasses,
your school bag,
your schoolwork goes in the bin,
because you don’t like who touched it
and now you’re failing all of your classes,
time passes,
and this illness harasses
you
like a person on the street
a bully at your feet,
makes you retreat

so you have social anxiety right?
but you’re at a party every Saturday night,
when there’s people who might,
not even go to the store because they’re afraid of the line,

OCD is being constantly indescive
a “where shall I sit?”
when a phobia becomes violent,
and you can’t make up your mind
about where your mind is,

when your body is a canvas and you paint in red,
wear long-sleeves in the summer,
to cover where razors bled,
kissed your skin and fled,
and now you can’t get out of bed
but at least self-harm,
gets you out of your head,

being depressed isn’t being tired
it’s an anchor in your chest,
bulimia isn’t pretty,
it’s sickly,

and imitating false anorexia
doesn’t make you sexier,
but don’t say it’s for boys to text you,

it’s not an attribute
it’s a weapon, a noose,
do you also find knives attractive?

social media is interactive
but it can hold you captive,
don’t adapt to it,

don’t make it glamorous,
your illness is not a model,
it doesn’t pout for cameras,

a panic attack
is a blood curdling scream
that no-one hears,

and I’m not trying to offend,
I just want to comprehend
How my worst nightmare, become my generations trend?

maybe we’re shining a spotlight on this and diluting the stigma,
or maybe the whole thing has just become an enigma,
a balancing act, where no-one can say the right thing, so we all just stay silent,

I’m not an advocate
who wants you to cut,
and please nourish yourself
don’t starve and punish yourself,

it’s not a game, it’s not playground fun,
a trigger isn’t just something on the architecture of a gun,

it is not a small irritation,
frustration,
it’s not an infatuation
you use to impress your generation

I’m tired of these stereotypical claims,
categories and lanes,
young adult novel popularity
where the girl is just something to save
when she’s a slave,
to the way
her mind behaves,

I lost the best years of my life to these chains,
and I refrain from ever falling into that rabbit hole again,
just because tumblr taught me to glorify my pain,
I write poems on there too,
but they’re a helping hand
not a brand,
I wear because it’s cool

the real victims lost their voices,
so you can call this a mouthpiece,
bipolar disorder is not being moody,
it’s not some alternative niche,

I collapsed in my bathroom,
have metal plates in my jaw,

so it’s important to speak while you can,
turn a whisper into a roar.

Until Death Do Us Part

TAG YOURSELF- LOSER'S CLUB EDITION
  • BILL:
  • •the mum friend
  • •probably a socialist
  • •scared of nothing
  • •depressed but in denial about it
  • •gets all the romantic attention
  • •into vintage stuff
  • •makes u cry all the time
  • •a cutie
  • •likes dogs
  • STANLEY:
  • •fuck this shit i'm out
  • •has nice hair
  • •always late or never turns up
  • •would actually kill himself
  • •wears expensive shirts
  • •the Obscure Friend™
  • •behaves like a virgo but isn't a virgo
  • •scared of cats
  • •takes the nicest photos
  • MIKE:
  • •broke out of a conservative family
  • •has an anime backstory
  • •nearly been killed about 8 times
  • •smells of books
  • •doesn't fight back bc he doesn't want to seem rude
  • •the quiet one with all the ideas
  • •lets you copy his homework
  • •too cool for the squad but was adopted in anyway
  • BEVERLY:
  • •a bit unstable but still lovely
  • •stands for shit from no one
  • •hates boys but isn't gay
  • •could make a binbag look nice
  • •ur mum doesn't like her
  • •has 1 friend
  • •probably writes poetry in the bath
  • •I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT MY BAD REPUTATION
  • •secretly taught herself karate in year 9
  • EDDIE:
  • •so far in the closet he's seen Narnia
  • •biggest mummy's boy since Norman Bates
  • •uses big words to make up for his height
  • •carries hand sanitiser and would probably drink it tbh
  • •trying his best
  • •prepares for his death if he catches a cold
  • •always injures himself on group outings
  • •buys kids' tickets and gets away with it
  • BEN:
  • •got hot eventually
  • •knows everything bc he lives on wikipedia
  • •will win every game of jenga
  • •definition of a nerd
  • •listens to awful mum rock
  • •terrible at flirting
  • •just happy to be here
  • •can't get a girlfriend
  • •terrible handwriting
  • •probs writes conspiracy theories in his spare time
  • RICHIE:
  • •the BIGGEST GAY
  • •works 72 hour shifts so he can afford nice watches
  • •looks good in leather
  • •can blag the whole squad into any party
  • •wears cuban heels and carries a zippo
  • •literally everyone likes him
  • •somehow has gossip about everyone
  • •likes obscure indie music and adidas
  • •would rather die than go to the circus
  • •has fucked your mother
my hands are stronger than my heart and brain combined together
it sounds unbelievable but it’s
true hear me out
my hands have done a lot for me
they’ve wiped the tears from my face so i could face the world again
they’ve pushed against my mattress getting me out of bed when my own brain told me to lay there all day
they’ve thanked my best friend with hugs when my brain suddenly forgot how to say “thank you”
but remembered to say thank you to my broken heart instead because the pain always reminds me i’m still alive
most importantly my hands have shown me there’s a way to express my self that’s not
beating myself up
my hands tell me that everything will be okay
when every other part of my body says i’m dying
—  s-asx 
But I Love You

Peter Parker x Reader

Request:  Hey do you think that you can write a peter Parker x reader where the reader and peter are friends and goes under some anesthesia after some sort of surgery. After the surgery peter say some really fluffy things to the reader while she records it. (anon)

really hope you liked the request

tags: @parkerbpete @rosaetum @ladysnowren @lunastarwatcher

word count: 2,739 (i can’t seem to write short fics)

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy


“You sure you’re not in any pain Peter? I can always go get the nurse if you want,” your voice filled with worry as your best friend was getting prepped for his cast for his broken arm.

“No, I’m fine (Y/N), I can feel it working. My arm doesn’t even hurt that much,” trying to calm you down.

“You sure?” still wanting to make sure he was ok.

Peter nodded, squeezing your hand slowly calming you down. You both waited till the nurse would roll you into the room where they would take x rays and apply his cast.

“Are you sure you don’t want Aunt May in here instead?” your hand interlacing with his.

“No, don’t think she would be able to handle this,” trying his hardest to not show how much of an effect your touch was having on him.

Peter was starting to think that maybe Ned would have been a better choice, because he couldn’t he wasn’t sure he could trust himself once the anesthesia kicks in. He’s seen the videos of people admitting some personal secrets, and last thing he wanted was to admit his love for you, since he wasn’t sure it would cause problems between you two.

You and Peter had been best friends since 6th grade, somewhere along the way you had stolen his heart, but this point he would have willingly given it to you. Simple touches made his face heat up, warm smiles made his breath stop; you holding his hand made his heart explode, everything about you just sent his body on overdrive.

“Thanks (y/n),” you don’t know how much you mean to me. That’s what he wanted to admit but he doubted that he ever could, because he would be sure to get tongue tied in the process.

“I’d do anything for you Peter,” your smile lightening up your face that instantly made his heart pound against his chest.  

It had to be illegal to be that adorable, and what’s worse is you had no clue how much of an effect you had on him. He could hear Ned’s voice in the back of his head, telling him to admit his feelings for you. He would always refuse stating that he needed to find the right moment to tell you.

“(y/n), there’s something that I should tell you…,” feeling like this was the best moment to tell you.

You nodded, seeing a slight change in his attitude.

“I-”

Keep reading

the thought of breaking up with you scares me. the thought of another girl kissing you scares me. the thought of you holding someone else’s hand scares me. the thought of you sharing your bed with her scares me. the thought of you ranting to her scares me. the thought that you’ll replace me so easily scares me.
—  //nikitagupta
love letters ❥ peter parker

summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.

word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)

   Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was. 

   Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been. 

    While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.

    He wrote. 

    He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did. 

   Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her. 

   “Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?” 

    Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully. 

   “Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.” 

   Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.” 

    May smiled wistfully. “I do.” 

    “And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks. 


    That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger. 

   “Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up. 

   “Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.” 

    “Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.” 

    Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.  

    Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-” 

    “No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew. 

   Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow. 

    “Do I?” He was practically sweating. 

     “I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.” 

   She called me cute

   “Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?” 

   Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint

   You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly. 

    “Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.

   “You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”   

    “Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?” 

    “You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.” 

    “Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”

    “I’m not much of a writer.”


    So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny. 

   Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much. 

   “It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?” 

   “Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”  

   You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy. 

   “Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left. 

   Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room. 

   “I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him. 

   He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him. 

    “Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him. 

     He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting. 

    “That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right. 

    “Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting. 

   Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life. 

   You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes. 

   “I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected. 

   He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”

   He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s. 

    He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.” 

    Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.

2

Here are some of my early ideas for Young Mom Carol and Baby KO!! I couldn’t find the high-quality copy of the semifinal drawing of Carol, so my hand-writing is basically legible. 

I was originally gonna give her a sort of a bob, but after Face Your Fears, I was inspired to have her keep her side-danglies from @scrotumnose‘s drawings of Silver Spark. I also thought I was clever to decide that Carol would have paw-feet, but I realized later that @ryannshannon had already decided that wayyyy back in the Carol short! Paw feet are the best!!!!!!!

Feelings

Originally posted by shoot-the-smiley

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUT ASF. Also mentions of Domestic Abuse 

Request by: @talia-grace-daniels Imagine based on the song Feelings by Maroon 5 :) Also Incorporated @delish-duck ‘s request for the reader having an abusive boyfriend and Tom being protective

Word Count: 3,500

A/N: People fr need to stop coming after me in my messages. I know I write smut. I’m 20 years old and write this stuff for people who actually want to read it. That’s why I put warnings before the imagine starts so I don’t have to deal with messages but I still get them.. -.-

I’M 20 LEMMA WRITE MY SEXUAL THOUGHTS BOUT TOM. BYE.


ps. I used the word trousers because its fun to say? Let me live lmao


*Slides down the pole throwing the smut to you hungry darlings*



[Reader’s POV]


“Fucking asshole” you mutter throwing your phone onto your bed. Tears were falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. Your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now had been cheating on you for months.


   You caught him fucking her when you stopped by his apartment a day early. He thought you weren’t coming back so soon. You just got back from visiting the states and came home to heartbreak. It never occurred to you that he would be cheating on you. Everything felt fine and nothing seemed wrong.


   Wiping off the rest of your running makeup you wash your face. Looking at yourself was so pathetic. You were too blind to see his deceit and look at you now. Crying over someone you thought you loved. Letting out a sigh you head back towards your bed.


   Picking up your phone you click the home button. Using you Touch ID to open it up and click on the phone app. Scrolling through your contacts you click on your best friends contact. Putting the phone to your ear you hear the dialing tone. After a short few rings it stops.


“Hello love, what’s up?” Tom’s voice fills your ear making you smile. Tears spill over and you whimper from the pain in your chest forming again.

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