now imagine them making out like the world's about to end

What criticism feels like to a creative person

Browsing Reddit, I came across an extremely effective post about why some creatives respond very poorly to criticism, or even for those of us who respond well, why it can feel like an attack even though in your head you know it isn’t.

Originally posted by enjoy-the-life-baby

Criticism creates a mental conflict, but not always that kind.

Imagine if you wrote a final essay for your literature class, really did your best on it, turned it in, and the teacher gave it 100%. Elated, you take it home to show it off to your dad. Your dad says “You got a D? You really should have tried harder.” You think WTF, you squint at the paper and you’re pretty damn sure it says 100%, A+, Good work. But your dad says “No, it clearly says 63%, D-, disappointing.” Then you start to realize you’re living in some kind of warped reality where your dad sees something on the paper completely different than what you see, and you start wondering if you even know what’s real anymore.

This is what it feels like to get a criticism. It casts into doubt your own definition of “good” which is probably the basis of your entire creative process. It’s not even an issue of admitting weakness. Admitting weakness is easy. What’s not easy is having your instincts cast into doubt and not knowing whether to trust  yourself anymore.

  • Do I trust this critic?
  • Do I trust myself? Some combination of the two?
  • Do I stand by my decisions or not?
  • Do I make changes even though I don’t understand how they will help?
  • Will the changes completely undermine the artistic vision I wanted for this?
  • Will it defeat the whole point I was going for?
  • I can’t feel the emotional reasoning behind making changes, so how will I know if my change is for the better or worse?
  • Is the critic just not the right audience for this? Is the critic biased? Is the critic just having a bad day?
  • Should I ignore them altogether, and just keep doing this for the people who like it?
  • Are my fans wrong and simpleminded?
  • Am I even doing anything of significance?
  • Should I give up here?

These are all questions which artists ask themselves when they receive criticism. They’re tricky, ambiguous questions that don’t always have a correct answer. Many newcomers don’t even know how to approach these questions, so criticism can often feel like a personal attack even if both sides mean well.

That’s not to say that criticism itself is bad, but if you get a better idea of what a criticism is doing psychologically to the receiver, you might find yourself offering more effective, well-received advice.

This ties in pretty closely to the advice I often give on this very blog, about how to deal with negative feedback; above all, trying not to dwell on it. Before you give any response, always take time to calm down.

Originally posted by gabedonohoe

This is a pretty universal problem that affects all creatives across all media. You’d have to be as emotionless as a stone to not fall prey to it occasionally.

Part of being a writer is building up creative confidence. This is the faith in yourself to be able to write something and put it out into the world, and to know, deep down, that this work has value, to you and to your audience.

You may, later, discover that this work isn’t all that good, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that it was a stepping stone to the person you are now, and the work you’re producing today.

Whenever you create a piece of work, make sure you internalise why you made that work. What it meant to you. It doesn’t matter if that work was a prize-winning literary novel or a scrawling of Vegeta from DBZ drawn in pencil on lined paper. If the work expresses something you can’t contain, something you have to get down on paper, over time you’ll develop the creative confidence to accept that even if it’s “bad”, that isn’t what’s important. The end result isn’t as important as the work itself.

Creative Confidence isn’t something you just develop overnight. It takes work. It’ll probably take a few embarrassing moments too, and those will be the hurtful types that’ll lead to “arguments you win in the shower” 5 years later. It takes different durations for different people. However, if you work at it, it’s something I believe is within the reach of everyone.

Find your Creative Confidence; I’m sure you can.

ludicrouslimes  asked:

Do you have any suggestions on how to make Dungeon Crawls more.. exciting or have a better atmosphere? Rather than just "The hallway extends 20ft and turns left.." I love dungeons, but as a DM it feels like my delivery is.. bland.

Lots of DMs struggle with this, and for good reason. 

Dungeons are the most mechanically straightforward aspect of the game besides combat, and the immediate shape and contents of them is more pressing to players than the atmosphere. 

But, there are some simple ways to make your dungeons more atmospheric. Here’s my proposed solutions, both a long thinky one and a fast random one:

I think that dungeons should thought about as ‘once functional spaces’. Every place in the world has a purpose for which it was built, even if it’s a weirdo crazy one. Dungeon rooms should almost always be more than just treasure, traps, and monsters. 

Originally posted by delsinsfire

For example, temples have cloisters, treasuries, storage rooms, waiting rooms, choirs, sanctuaries, apse, washing rooms, etc. Each of these rooms has specific objects and furniture inside them, as well as different acoustics. They get decorated with frescoes and murals or hanging art or sculptures. They’re cultural places. Think about them as physical spaces that people would use. 

Now imagine something happened in them, long ago. Why is this place a ‘dungeon’ and not still used? What event caused it to be abandoned? A battle? Plague? Was the place cursed? Come up with that and you can seed the rooms with small historical details: evidence of fights, skeletal remains, treasures hidden so they could be reclaimed later (but never were).

Now add the effects of time and nature. Fabric rots, metal rusts, stone erodes and crumbles. Plants and roots push stone tiles aside, and water seeps in and floods deep places. The passage of ages scours away history and purpose. Now, your once functional rooms don’t appear so functional, but their purpose can still be intuited.

Now add some new tenants. Monsters are always the first to reclaim abandoned civilized spaces: goblins make shantytowns out of old human ruins, beasts make warrens in sepulchral tombs, small dragons and basilisks favour places with statuaries and abandoned treasures. No matter the space or its original purpose, monsters move in and call it home. Sometimes multiple species of monsters…and then they fight or argue over sharing space.

Originally posted by mirkokosmos

So now your dungeon has a vivid look and feel. The important bit now is to think about how that imagined space sounds and smells

With every room and hallway, imagine how its history smells. Is it acrid or pungent? Smokey or mouldy? Does it smell surprisingly pleasant? If so, that’s often a worrisome sign, because it means something sentient might already be there. 

Audio can clue players into a space faster than any other description. Wind whistling indicates access to the surface…or a much deeper cave. Dripping denotes water (you hope). Creaking could mean doors…or ghosts. Large spaces echo, and sounds warp and distort the further away they are. There’s even different kinds of silence. There’s an empty, lonely silence that comes with long dead spaces, or the claustrophobic close silence of small spaces. 

Appeal to your players senses besides sight. Describe what rooms smell, sound, and even taste or feel like. This is a surefire way to make your dungeon rooms stand out. For example:

“You enter a 20 by 20 foot square room. It’s a stuffy old parlour. Pushing the door open you immediately smell something caustic and sour, but you don’t see an immediate source. All the furniture is rotted, but some of it looks smashed. You can hear the faintest scraping of something against the wall in the adjacent room”.

If that seems like a lot to write, try something like this: Reveal each bullet point as the players inquire about them, or when they make Perception checks:

Parlour, 20 ft square room.

  • The room feels uncomfortably thick and stuffy.
  • All the furniture is rotted out. Some of it is smashed. Evidence of a fight.
  • Smells caustic and sour. The smell comes from under a tattered rug. It’s beholder puke. 50gp if collected and sold to the right buyer.
  • Scraping sounds from the cloaker in the next room.

Originally posted by breathinginbiology

So maybe you already have a pretty basic dungeon and you need to make each room (or block of rooms) less boring. Here’s my handy set of sense tables:

Random Room Sensations:

For each room you want to enhance, roll four dice (a d12, a d10, a d8, and a d6). Your rolls will determine what’s up with this room. Every time you roll a result, cross it out and replace it with a new one you come up with.

Smells (1d12):

  1. Sickly sweet, like rotting fruit or wilting flowers.
  2. Musty, like old people and expired cologne.
  3. Tangy, like body odour and grime.
  4. Dusty, the choking scent of age and ghosts.
  5. Foul, like waste and death; something unholy.
  6. Crisp, like freshly cut grass or unchecked plant life.
  7. Soggy, the lingering smell of still water and flooding.
  8. Pungent, like rot and decay.
  9. Spicy, like herbs and dried ingredients, aged.
  10. Electric, a faint aroma of ozone and metals.
  11. Earthy, like fresh dirt and clay, mixed in with the copper of blood.
  12. Roll again twice, both smells clash together.

Sounds (1d10):

  1. Claustrophobic silence.
  2. Deep, echoing silence.
  3. Low moaning or groaning.
  4. Creaking of wood in the distance.
  5. Faint, maddeningly indistinct whispering.
  6. Faint, maddeningly indistinct whispering in a language you don’t know.
  7. Metal scraping against metal, rhythmically.
  8. Dripping of some kind of liquid onto stone.
  9. Dripping of some kind of liquid into more liquid.
  10. Roll again twice, both sounds are present.

Touch Sensations (1d8):

  1. Dryness on the skin, chapped lips and dry eyes.
  2. Cold dampness, water beads on metal items.
  3. Humidity, clothes become hot and heavy, metal feels colder.
  4. Dry heat, throats become parched, skin itches.
  5. Pressure change, ears pop and noises distort.
  6. Static tingling, hair stands up on end, goosebumps.
  7. Unholy chill, shivers, goosebumps, a sense of unease.
  8. The feeling of being watched, an uncomfortable presence.

Kinds of Darkness, if applicable (1d6):

  1. Grey, distant darkness that yields to lantern light.
  2. Cloying, smothering darkness that seems to draw close to you.
  3. Eerie still darkness that feels like it holds endless monsters.
  4. Calm, still darkness that invites restfulness.
  5. Flickering, shifting darkness where the room seems to be moving.
  6. Impenetrable darkness that makes darkvision endowed races feel at uneasy.

I hope all this helps make your dungeons a little less boring. The dungeon tables in the back of the 5e Dungeon Master’s Guide from @dndwizards is also helpful in this regard. 

Originally posted by captain-rachel

The 2 Elements of an ORIGINAL STORY IDEA

If you’ve been doing this writing thing for more than one day, you’ve likely experienced the following worry: 

“What if my story idea ISN’T ORIGINAL?”

And if my experience is any indication, things spiraled downwards from there: “What if it’s cliche? What if there’s nothing new here?! It IS cliche. It ISN’T original. I’m a failure! ALL MY WRITING NEEDS TO BURN!”

Calm yourself. There’s a way to make sure that your story concept is unique.  

First, what IS a story concept? It’s the initial idea that made you want to write the thing. It’s the “What If” question that starts everything off. Later, it will be the promise that hooks the reader or audience, and makes them want to experience the story. 

So for example: What if Cinderella was a cyborg? What if a rat wanted to be a french chef? What if a fish had to venture across the ocean to find his son who’s captive in a dentist’s office aquarium?   

All great concepts. All of which seem to be comprised of two elements: something that we already know about, a set up that establishes expectations, and then something contrasting and surprising, which creates irony or surprise.  
So the first element of a successful story concept is FAMILIARITY. 

Establishing expectations? Something we already know about? Familiarity?! That sounds like the definition of UNorginal. 

Hear me out. 

What do readers do when foraging for a new novel at the bookstore? Certain readers gravitate to certain shelves. Some go to mysteries, some to crime, a whole lot to romance, and the rest to the other genres that are too numerous to list.

 Why is this? Because genres give them a pretty good idea about what they’re going to get. Readers already know the conventions of the genre. They’ve already put in the work of learning, accepting, and enjoying these conventions. 

Genres give both reader and writer something to go on right away. For the reader, genres are expectations for story events, setting, character, and more, which are automatically enjoyable to them. For a writer, it’s a set of expectations which can be flipped to create something remarkable and unique.  

It’s like telling a joke. Without a setup, there can’t be a punchline. 

The genres are the setup, the individual twist the author puts on that genre is the punchline. Or in other words, readers truly do want the same thing –only different.  

To illustrate this, let’s take a look at one of the most successful stories of all time.

With space ships, interplanetary travel, sentient robots, and aliens running amok, Star Wars LOOKS to be the kind of story that requires the audience to expend lots of mental energy to comprehend and believe. At first glance, it seems that imaginations are going to have to stretch a great deal, and there won’t be anything familiar to ground us – this SEEMS like an uncomfortably new, unwelcoming world. But I doubt if anyone has ever felt uncomfortable or unwelcome while watching Star Wars. And the reason for this can be summed up with one ellipsis-ended sentence:

Suddenly, all is clear. This isn’t the hard-to-imagine future, this is the PAST. We’re not being asked to imagine and believe a totally new world; we’re being taken to the realm of “far, far away”, a place we’ve known since childhood. Isn’t “a long time ago” just another way of saying “once upon a time”? Yes, it is, so we know where we are now. We are in a fairy tale, a myth.  

The familiarity of fairy tales sets us at ease and sets our expectations in place. Expectations which Star Wars meets with flying colors: A farmboy who must become a knight. A princess imploring for aide. A mystical wise-old-man mentor. Sword fights between good and evil. A magic that operates like religion. A dark lord and a dark side. Star Wars was built upon something we already know, something timeless, something we’ve always enjoyed. 

And once those well-known expectations were set, Star Wars was free to add the unexpected and create one of those most memorable story worlds ever.
Think of a story you love, and you’ll probably be able to identify the something-already-known aspect of it.  

How about Harry Potter? 

When we hear “boarding school”, mental images and probabilities are instantly conjured in our minds. We picture classrooms, dormitories, a campus with very old buildings, kids in uniforms, a giant place for meals, living through a schoolyear with a bunch of kids your age, etc. Even if we don’t know much about boarding school, we all know what regular school is like (even us homeschoolers over here *waves*) and our expectations for that are nearly identical from person to person.  

So what does this prove?

It proves that one half of your story’s concept must be grounded in something we already know, and know well. These are the expectations you are going to establish for your reader, before the second element of your concept upends everything and creates something wholly unique. 

You need FAMILIARITY. You need to ground your concept in something WELL-KNOWN. Only then will you be able to create something ORIGINAL. 

Where can familiarity be found?  

1. Genre Conventions 

2. Occupations 

3. Well-known stories  

The possibilities are not limited to these categories, of course. Familiar subjects can be found within many other areas. However, Familiar elements seem to share certain qualities … 

Provides a rough timeline

⦁ Conjures imagery

⦁ Sets expectations for events, characters, opposition, etc

⦁ Has natural potential for conflict 

⦁ Serves as a goal-oriented backdrop for the plot

To see how this works, let’s look at Harry Potter again: 

Familiarity: Going to boarding school. (An occupation)

Timeline: A school year (which Voldy always lets Harry complete before trying to kill him again, bless him.)

Story Expectations: When we hear “school”, we know what we’re going to get.

Imagery: Boarding school conjures tons of possibilities. 

Conflict Potential: It’s a thousand kids living in one castle with a handful of adults – there’s going to be conflict. 

Goal-Oriented: School is inherently goal directed. You want to graduate. And in the case of boarding school, you want to win the house cup. 

But of course, this familiar environment is only HALF of the concept for Harry Potter. The other half, of course, is WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY. Which brings us to the 2nd element of a successful story concept, which will be the subject of the next post.

Comfort Prompts

“I’m here, I’m not gonna leave you.”

“Don’t say that you love me more than I love you. Trust me, you are the glorious sun to me, my everything and I love you with all my heart.”

“Repeat after me; I am worthy, I am worthy, I am worthy…and believe it, ‘cause you are.”

“Darling, perfect is just a word. Perfection is impossible and chasing after it will lead you nowhere. Just do your best and accept that the result is good.”

“When the most broken put themselves back together, they become the most beautiful angels. It’s okay if it’s sloppy or if a crack is still left open, you’re even more ethereal to me.”

“The longest and most difficult roads in life end in the best places. Be patient and keep going.”

“So what if the world is complex and overwhelming? So what if you can’t do it all, can’t be the best? Stop focusing on your image and focus on yourself. You have these years on this earth, enjoy them, don’t overthink it. “

“I’m love with your mind, soul and body.”

“The best thing you can do in life is to love yourself and let your passion help others to love themselves too.”

“I know you may feel alone right now but just remember how big the world is. How many souls will love you for who you are. They’re out there, don’t worry. Just get through, explore and you’ll find them. Just don’t forget to find yourself.”

“Can I kiss where it hurts?”

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. We’ll get through this together, hand in hand, okay?”

“It’s all about the little things. Your favorite tea, good stories, sparkly eyes, beautiful skies, the thrill of adventure, passion, the feeling of home. Enjoy them.”

“You’re not broken. Your mind is just built differently, get to know it, have a little chat with yourself. The most complicated minds tend to be the most beautiful ones, just don’t let it use you, learn to cooperate with it.”

“Hey, beautiful, you okay?”

“You’re amazing, did you know that?”

“I think I’m going blind from your beauty.”

“Everyone’s different. Everyone’s beautiful. You’re the most beautiful human I’ve met, and I’ve met myself!”

“Breathe, darling, breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that triggered you, I’ll never do it again.”

“Here, I’m going to make you some tea and we’ll watch a movie, that sound good?”

“ Magic is real. It’s not spells and cauldrons, no… it’s more subtle. Like, when the air seems electrified, when eyes speak more than words, when you sense something none of your normal senses detect. If you stop for a moment and look beyond, you’ll find it.“

“I know you don’t want to, but in the end, it’ll pay off. Just breathe, keep your head up and you’ll be fine.”

It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 1/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match! 

Word Count: 1,723

A/N: This is already planned out and written (in my head). I loved writing this.

Originally posted by imaginingbucky


Nat raised a brow, a mysterious curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, and wanted to get caught.

“You left your phone on the coffee table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.

She merely shrugged before she turned her right-hand palm-up and relaxing it. Steve’s phone was revealed. “See for yourself.”

Keep reading

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

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

Originally posted by soluscheese

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fandom as a whole is not “minor-friendly”

Nor should it be.

If you want to live in a “Children of the Corn”-style bubble of innocence and purity, well, to me, that’s a startling approach to adolescence, but every generation’s got to find its own way to reject the one before, so: do as you will.  But you can’t bring the bubble to the party, kids.  Fandom, established media-style fandom, was by and for adults before some of your parents were born now.  You don’t get to show up and demand that everyone suddenly change their ways because you’re a minor and you want to enjoy the benefits of adult creative activity without the bits that make you uncomfortable.  If you think you’re old enough to be roaming the Internet unsupervised, then you also think you’re old enough to be working out your limits by experience, like everybody else, like I did when I was underage and lying about it online.  If you’re not old enough to be roaming the Internet unsupervised and you’re doing it anyway, then that’s on your parents, not on fandom.

If you were only reading fic rated G on AO3, if you had the various safe modes on other media enabled, you would be encountering very little disturbing material, anyway (at least in the crude way people tend to define “disturbing” these days; some of the most frankly horrifying art I have ever engaged with would have been rated PG at most under present systems, but none of that kind of work ever seems to draw your protests).  In the end, what you really want is to be able to seek out the edges of your little world, but be able to blame other people when you don’t like what you find.  Sorry.  Adolescence is when you get to stop expecting others to pad your world for you and start experiencing the actual consequences of the risks you take, including feeling appalled and revolted at what other people think and feel.

Now, ironically, fandom’s actually a fairly good place for such risk-taking, as, for the most part, you control whether you engage and you can choose the level of your engagement.   You can leave a site, blacklist something, stop reading an author, walk away from your computer.  Are there actual people (as opposed to works of art, which cannot engage with you unless you engage with them) who will take advantage of you in fandom?  Of course there are.  Unfortunately, such people are everywhere.  They will be there however “innocent” and “wholesome” the environment appears to be, superficially.  That’s evil for you.  There are abusers in elementary school.  There are abusers in scout troops.  There are abusers in houses of worship.  Shutting down adult creative activity because you happen to be in the vicinity isn’t going to change any of that.  It may help you avoid some of those icky feelings that you get when you think about sex (and you live in a rape culture, those feelings are actually understandable, even if your coping techniques are terrible), but no one, except maybe your parents, has a moral imperative to help you avoid those.  

In the end, you’re not my kid and you’re not my intended audience.  I’m under no obligation to imagine only healthy, wholesome relationships between people for your benefit.  Until you’re old enough to understand that the world is not exclusively made up of people whose responsibility it is to protect you from your own decisions, yes, you’re too young for established media fandom.  Fandom shouldn’t be “friendly” to you.  

YOI Fan Rec Friday

I’m FINALLY back! Thank you to those who rec’d so many fics while I was away! If you don’t see your rec here, don’t worry! I send it in again for next week :) I randomly choose 30 fics for each week!

Rec’d by @bookwormpanda :
with these things i’ll never say by missmichellebelle, Gen, 1.8k
Yuuri has been Victor’s PA for well over a year now, but no matter how many times Victor has told him otherwise, he still leaves actual handwritten notes for Victor to find.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
I’ve Wanted This Before by undermyumbreon, Explicit, 3.3k
Yuuri is finding that it is becoming easier for him to be open about his desires with Victor. When he reveals that there’s a part of himself that he wants to explore, Victor offers a solution.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @themosthappyambivalent :
Never Look Away by gabapple, mamodewberry, Mature, 152k (WIP)
Everything Viktor knows and loves is tangled up in the world of competitive skating- a world that, for him, is quickly coming to an end. Standing at the precipice of the inevitable, he must decide how his tale unfolds: should he retire into quiet obscurity? Allow himself to be eaten alive by the younger, more vicious competition? …Or risk it all on a struggling, but passionate, skater halfway across the world, who may prove to be the inspiration, life, and love that Viktor’s been missing all this time?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
against the dying of the light by the__magpie, Teen, 2.4k (WIP)
The facts were these: Yuuri Katsuki - twenty-four years, seventeen days, twenty-one hours, and three minutes old; pie maker by day and dead-waking private investigator also by day - has just brought Victor Nikiforov - Grand Prix Final winner; childhood best friend; first kiss - back to life, mostly on accident. Though they can never touch, or Victor will go back to being dead, they can team up to solve the mystery of Victor’s murder and, along the way, learn how to make this unexpected relationship work.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Inosculation by lazrbrain, Teen, 11k (WIP)
Viktor is motionless, life consisting of his shop and his dog. Yuuri is running, trapped by mistakes he cannot change. Both of them are desperate for more. They find it in each other.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
To the Moon by JMonCheri, Teen, 17k ***Major Character Death
Viktor Nikiforov’s last, literal dying wish is to get a gold medal. Yuri and Otabek figured it would be an easy goal to accomplish, until they figure out that Nikiforov was an Olympic figure skating champion with already a truck ton of other golden medals.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous, anonymous, and anonymous:
Pigeon Alley by DiAnna44, Teen, 31k
What’s meant to be will always find a way. Victor and Yuuri? They’re meant to be.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
Tangle and Wind and Beguile by Mythmaker, Mature, 5.6k (WIP)
Lesson of the day: don’t let strange samovars into your apartment or doe-eyed Japanese boys might pop out and grant you wishes. …No wait.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
yuuri!!! on fire (the superhero au) by hinatella, Teen, 42k (WIP)
A detailed exposé of what working with an ex-villain is like, as told by a very distraught Yuuri Katsuki. (P.S.: it isn’t the fact that he’s an ex-villain that Yuuri is close to losing his mind.)

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @phoenixwaller :
Broken Vases by Aliferous_Sin, Explicit, 22k
Devastated after a performance, Viktor Nikiforov seeks isolation in a darkened closet to bear his loss alone again but discovers that something more than mops are witness to his pain. Will truth find victory in the dark or is pure honesty too much weight for love to thrive under?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @faithsoprano :
Never Too Late by Soprano, Gen, 15k (WIP)
Victor Nikiforov was not allowed to pursue skating as a child. In the end he still became a star, even if not quite the kind he had wanted to be. His dream, however, never truly died, and going into his 30s, he decided to enter the world of adult figure skating, with the help of his new coach, Katsuki Yuuri.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
That’s What They Say (When We’re Together) by Lightningcatters (Phoeliac), Teen, 2.7k (WIP)
In the wake of her divorce from Yakov, Lilia ran off to Japan and became Yuuri’s coach alongside Minako. She returns to Russia with a challenge for Yakov, who’s become increasingly concerned about Victor’s lack of motivation.Victor and Yuuri ruin everybody’s plans by falling in love instead of becoming rivals.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Where the Cliff Greets the Sea by RobotSquid, Mature, 27k (WIP)
For years, Victor and his crew of pirates have been the bane of the coast, unmatched and elusive. With little left to satisfy him, he visits the small seaside town of Hasetsu, drawn by its simple charms. Yuuri lives a quiet life sewing and tailoring dresses with the unattainable dream of designing gowns of his own. Victor sees him working through the window of the dress shop, and decides to stay.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @trenazlore :
Namaste by Katri Jardine (heyanapau), Teen, 10k
Phichit drags Yuuri to a yoga class, but when the instructor walks in Yuuri can’t imagine himself anywhere else.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
stalemate by silencedmockingjay, Teen, 3.4k (WIP)
When Viktor, famous Youtuber and gaming prodigy, gets beaten in a simple straightforward game of chess by someone who calls himself “Eros”, Viktor decides to find him to prove he’s better - and hopefully meet up with him in real life, because hey. Someone who can beat the person with the highest IQ in the world - so far - has to be hot, right?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
A Change of Paths by RoseusJaeger, Teen, 7.9k (WIP)
After losing in the first round of the Pokemon League and finding out his first pokemon from his childhood has died, Katsuki Yuuri announces his retirement from professional battling and retires to his family onsen/pokemon day care. What he doesn’t expect is for five-time Pokemon Contest ribbon winner, Victor Nikiforov, to show up and insist on becoming his coach in the world of contests in exchange for learning how to battle.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d @slash-bae
I Need A Hero by malchikelf, MrMich, Teen, 17k
When Yuuri was a kid, all he ever wanted was to be a hero; but his Quirk wasn’t good enough for hero work, and even though he had friends and family encouraging him, he still gave up on his dream. Until one day, when the Iron Prince, the world’s number one pro hero, sees Yuuri save someone’s life and immediately drags him into the world of heroes - and unfortunately for Yuuri, Victor doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Savior of the Night by Captain_Winter, Teen, 22k (WIP)
A single Yuuri Katsuki gets an invitation to a childhood friend’s wedding. After pressure from his family to find someone, he may have accidentally told them that he has a long-term boyfriend that he’s going to bring to the wedding. Oops. Yuuri’s forced to do what he never thought he would do… hire someone from an escort service and hope for the best. Enter the most beautiful, suave person in the world, who Yuuri hires to pose as his boyfriend for the wedding. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but who would have thought that desperate measures would have brought him a savior?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @nekoclair :
Open wounds, closed heart by nekoclair, Teen, 5.8k (WIP)
Sometimes it hurts. It’s not a physical pain, but the marks that they leave are real, too real, and it express itself in the most diverse forms. The heavy breathing, the sleepless nights, the bad habit of thinking too much about matters that should be trivial, and so many other symptoms chase after the young writer who, no longer enduring his own routine, decides to accept any help. Yuri Katsuki opens his arms and welcomes the opportunity to change, and to learn how to live with his worst and most insistent companion: his anxiety.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Love In Times Of War And Peace by thegrimshapeofyoursmile, Teen, 5.7k (WIP)
It is the year 1904. In an attempt of de-escalating matters with Imperial Russia, translator Yuuri Katsuki accompanies his father to St. Petersburg in a diplomatic mission. However, he certainly did not expect to meet a man as stunning and peculiar as tsarevich Yuri Georgieviech’s bodyguard, Polkovnik Viktor Ivanovich Nikiforov - and even less he expected to fall in love when war is threatening the country.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @nathanchcn :
Viktor Nikiforov Does NOT Have a Smurf Kink by FigureSgayts, Teen, 2.3k
Viktor loses a bet to Yuuri, leaving him at the mercy of his fiancé in a bathroom with hair dye.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
The Unknown Unknown by opalish, Teen, 7.4k
Yuuri never meant to become a supervillain. These things just happen to him.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
let’s go steal an ice rink by FullmetalChords, Mature, 35k (WIP)
Insurance investigator Victor Nikiforov has spent the last decade of his life working for ISU, a corporation that caters to the 1%. His work brings him into contact with several of the world’s most notorious thieves: hacker Phichit Chulanont, infiltration specialist Yuri Plisetsky, retrieval specialist Otabek Altin, and a master grifter and con man known as Katsuki Yuuri. Yuuri in particular catches his eye at a banquet in Geneva, kicking off a whirlwind romance between thief and investigator.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
cancel your reservations by renaissance, renaissance_moving, Teen, 5.4k
Yuuri is a college student conducting private fencing lessons for a handsome, rich, and mysterious student. Viktor is not learning to fence because he does medieval reenactments.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Your eyes could drown a city by Proserpineceres, Gen, 4.2k
“Ocean, beautiful, selfish Ocean, wrap me up in foam, I am your betrothed. You who returns to the earth only the boats and the men you want to give back, give me the gold of the sumptuous sinking vessels, give me their treasures, bring in my town handsome sailors that I shall gaze upon. But, oh, don’t be jealous, I’ll give them back to you, one after the other.”

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
With All My Heart by Hevheia, Explicit, 40k (WIP)
Once upon a time there was a prince and if you stole his heart, you would live forever. But the prince would only have three days left.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:*    *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Into the Deep by Ars_Matron, Mature, 74k (WIP)
For five years the mysterious pirate ship, the Eros, has tormented the eastern seas. The most heinous of their crimes, the abduction of omegas from their very homes. Some merely children.Viktor Nikiforov, captain of the Russian military’s fastest ship the Agape, has dedicated his life to finding the infamous pirate pack. Rescuing the omegas that he can, and avenging those beyond his reach.


Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

The amazing “YOI Fan Rec Friday” banner was created by @omgkatsudonplease! I love them a lot, check out their blog!

Between Us And Infinity

Originally posted by theseoks

Genre: Angst/fluff || soulmate!au / street performer!tae

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Length: 35.7k

Summary: Place two strangers together and give them seven days to fall in love, and they will be soulmates for the rest of eternity, otherwise, neither of the two will come to love anyone ever again; The Seven Days Countdown has always been an old wives tale to you and nothing more, but all of that changes once you meet Kim Taehyung in the midst of a crowd of thousands. From then on, your life is thrown into a race against time, not only on a mission to beat the clock in falling in love with the renowned heartthrob, but also on a quest to make him fall in love with you.

Keep reading

Married with Benefits (Part 9)

Summary: In order to not pay out-of-state tuition, you ask your friend, Steve Rogers, to marry you. Things, as always, never go as planned. (College AU)

Word Count: 988

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A/N: I know you all wanna scream :)

Originally posted by isthiscoinsidenceorasign

The next morning, Bucky gave you a death glare as you walked into the kitchen. You gave him an innocent smile, opening the pantry and finding the oatmeal exactly where Steve told you it’d be. Grabbing the container, you brought it down to the counter and began to prepare yourself some breakfast, all the while keenly aware of Bucky’s death glare.

Finally, you had had enough. “What? What, Bucky?”

“I barely got sleep,” he muttered, slurping up his milk.

You cringed. “I’m sorry, Buck. Really.”

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The Performative Wokeness of Dear White People

“I plan to marry me a dark-skinned sister. Have the ashiest, blackest babies possible.” Says the character of Reggie (Marques Richardson) to his group of friends as they’re taking a stroll on the campus of Winchester University, the fictional university set in the world of Dear White People. Reggie’s proclamation came during a conversation about the character of Sam’s (Logan Browning) new white boyfriend.

The statement echoes a conversation that Sam has earlier in the series with her group of friends where she says that she prefers her men like she prefers her coffee “full-bodied with preferably Keyan origins.” Prompting Muffy (Caitlin Carver) to ask Sam, in Muffy’s words, “a dumb white girl question,” why it would be racist if Muffy was to only date white men, but not racist for Sam to only date black men. Sam goes onto explain that there are parts of her identity that white men will never understand in the ways a black man could. However, Sam does eventually start dating a white guy named Gabe (John Patrick Amedori), who only after being outed on his Instagram account, does she go public with.

Sam’s relationship with a white man becomes a point of contention for many of her closest friends, sparking an ongoing discussion in the series of whether a black person can really be pro-black, while also having a white significant other.

Reggie’s politics, however, are never challenged in the same ways that Sam’s are. His declaration of love for dark-skinned women, is dead upon arrival considering that the only other thing that he is known for outside of his pro-blackness, is his crush on Sam. A light-skinned biracial woman.

Based on the 2014 movie of the same name, Dear White People is a satire set at a PWI about college campus politics through the lens of black students. The show also explores the theme of identity. How often people assume identities or have identities projected onto them that contradicts who they really are. Identities such as being“woke.”

Used to describe a person who is socially and politically conscious, the word “woke” has surged in popularity within recent years due to social media and the rise of social movements such as Black Lives Matter. But what once was a way to describe someone’s political awareness, being, or staying woke, has seemingly dissolved more into a competition of who is more educated on race and other social issues.

Performative wokeness is examined within the world of Dear White People, with episode five featuring a scene where Reggie shows off an app he created called Woke or Not. The app shows photos of students at Winchester University and with a push of a button app users can determine whether a person is woke. Or not.

Even though Dear White People pokes fun at the absurdity and arrogance that comes from people who think they have the moral authority to decide who is or isn’t woke, the show itself falls into many of the same traps that it attempts to satirize.

In an episode centered around Gabe, he’s sitting at a table surrounded by Sam and other black women while they discuss white male privilege and how women of color are often passed over for opportunities that usually end up being given to mediocre white men. While he’s silently listening on, Gabe imagines himself banging his fist against the table as he looks directly into the camera and exclaims that sometimes people actually earn the things they get and that just because he’s a white man doesn’t make him an “asshole.”

“Asshole,” of course, seems just a tad bit reductive considering that being an “asshole” in this scenario is about benefiting from a society that prioritizes average white men over hard working black women. While the narrator says that only “a tiny part” of Gabe wishes he could make such a statement, it’s still concerning that Gabe, who is supposedly enlightened on issues of racism and sexism, is secretly harboring resentment against women of color for venting their frustrations about the institutions that systematically hold them back from opportunities

Is it possible that Gabe is being used as a conduit to discuss liberal racism? After all, episode five deals with how even “good” white people can be guilty of the same racism that they like to think they’re above. But this wasn’t Gabe’s first time making racially tone deaf statements without being taken to task. In the first episode, Gabe tells Sam that he wouldn’t let his friends make her feel like she didn’t belong in his “world,” after Gabe’s first uncomfortable meeting with Sam’s friends where he made a series of half-hearted attempts at trying to relate to the struggles of black students.  

 However, the most egregious occurrence of Dear White People’s lack of self awareness about their own performative wokeness comes with their handling of discussions surrounding colorism.  

The most improved upon element from Dear White People the movie is the colorism. In the movie, the character of Coco (Teyonah Parris,) a dark-skinned black woman, existed solely as a foil to Tessa Thompson’s version of Sam, a light-skinned biracial woman. With the movie being turned into a series, we see Coco, now played by Antoinette Robertson, develop into a fleshed out, fully realized character. But even with the series upgrading on the movie’s shortcomings, even going as far as calling Sam out on her light-skin privilege, the series began developing flaws of their own in regards to its colorism.

Joelle (Ashley Blaine Featherson) outside of being Sam’s best friend, also has feelings for Reggie, the guy who has feelings for Sam. This scenario is reminiscent to a flashback scene in episode four in which Coco longingly looks on as Troy, (Brandon Bell) a guy she has feelings for, flirt with Sam. Even though in that particular situation, the scene was a part of an episode that explores Coco’s relationship to colorism and how it affects her love life, the same motivation doesn’t appear to be behind the love triangle of Sam, Joelle, and Reggie.

The fact that the only light-skinned biracial woman of the show is constantly shown as the object of affection, while the two principle dark-skinned women of the show are depicted as coveting over color struck black men who constantly overlook them for said light-skinned biracial woman is disheartening to watch.

What makes this even more disheartening, is the fact that Joelle was walking right beside Reggie, struggling to contain her smile, as he declared that he was going to “marry him a dark-skinned sister,” only later to hook up with Sam. But Joelle, nor does anyone else, call him out about how his preference doesn’t align with who we actually see him dating.

Has Dear White People found itself stuck in the same tiny confines of identity that it sought out to expose through its characters? Can the contradictions that arise within the show merely be chalked up to poor writing? Or does it prove that inconsistency will inevitably happen when trying to voice the concerns of multiple people with varying opinions? A light skin woman can not speak to the struggles of colorism that a dark skin woman faces. A white man can’t relate to the problems a black man has. And one show cannot voice the opinions of all within a community.

Anything For You

Me? A sucker for the wedding trope.
Hope you guys like this one though <3

Title: Anything For You
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: Peter is your date to a wedding and all your relatives love him. Just one issue: you’re not actually dating.
Word Count: 1,640
Warnings: None
Tagged: @tmrhollandkay @kindnesswins @melconnor2007 @mcheung0314

Your name: submit What is this?

           "Y/N,“ Peter coughs as you tighten his tie. "Chill.”

           "Sorry,“ you say quickly, loosening the knot just a bit.

           He gives you a good-natured smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt a bit. Staring in the mirror, Peter fixes up a few other aspects of his appearance as you watch.

           "Thanks for being my date to this thing,” you tell him. You’ve already expressed your appreciation to him multiple times, but you still felt the obligation to say it.

           Peter’s adjusting a few strands of his hair as you speak. He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and gives you a reassuring smile.

           "It’s no problem,“ he insists, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Anything for my best friend. Besides, I couldn’t let you suffer through the ceremony alone.”

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Hers

And there he stands in all his glory, laughing at something Chris Nolan said to him, a glass of whisky in his hand and his arm around her waist. And all I could do was stand here, from afar, watching them.

“He’ll notice if you keep staring, darling.” Anne handed me a glass of champagne.

“I-I-I was not staring. Just looking how wonderful they are together.” I could feel my face turn red by the second.

“Oh, darling, don’t try to fool yourself, I know you have feelings for him.” She smiled lightly at me. “Actually, I always thought you’re going to be together.”

My smile faltered and I looked at the floor. Silly Y/N, of course Anne knew. Apparently, everybody did! The boys, Gemma, Lou and now Anne. Clearly, I am not very good in hiding my feelings for my best friend. The guy who knows me better than anyone and yet can’t realize how much I adore him.

Harry and I have been friends since we were kids, really. Eventually we went separate ways: He went out to become the biggest celebrity out there and I went to college. Even though we lived in different worlds, we never stopped talking. We’re still best friends even after all this time.

I love him.

But it wasn’t always like this. When we’re younger, our parents used to tell us we would eventually get married. We’re too perfect for each other, that’s something we always knew, even though we didn’t have this types of feeling for each other.

It was in my senior year of college that this said feelings started to show. I spent a few weeks with him and the boys while they’re on tour and suddenly I started to fall for my best friend. If you have seen any movie out there, you would think that the feeling was mutual and we’re happily ever after. Not how things turned out, I’m afraid to tell you. I spent 6 weeks trying to find a way to tell him my feelings, even asked for the boys’ help, but when I was close to figure a way out, he met her. And gosh, how much he adored her. Since the beginning!

You know that stupid line that said when you love someone, you gotta let them go and find their happiness? His happiness was she and I couldn’t stand in the way of that. Even though I knew I loved him more than she could ever love him, it was time for me to set him free.

So I came back. Came to the UK, finished college and found a job I actually like. My life is all put together, as Harry likes to remind me. He’s right, my life is put together, except for my love life. I tried so hard to get over him, to not have feelings for him. I dated, I tried everything I could, but he was always there, in the back of my mind, even when I met my ex-boyfriend, Daniel. We broke up a few months later because he knew I had feelings for my best friend. Poor Dan, such a nice guy and I couldn’t love him.

Harry came back home. And moved in with her, much to my dismay. They’re together for 3 years now and they don’t seem to be breaking up anytime soon. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about telling him, just to get it out of my chest, but I can’t. I cannot ruin this for him. I would rather suffer in silence than ruin his happiness and our friendship.

“Have you thought about telling him?” She asked me while we watched the couple from afar.

“I did.” I whispered. “I just can’t. He’s happy, Anne. He deserves to be happy.”

“My son is a fool, darling. He doesn’t know, but he does have feelings for you. A mother always know and I’m telling you he does. But I understand your side, I just don’t wanna see you both losing time with other people when you could be together!”

I breathed a laugh. Anne was always our biggest supporter, so it’s not a shock to me she would rather me with her son than his actual girlfriend. The poor girl is not a bad girl; she’s just not right for him.

She doesn’t get it how he can be such a morning person, always waking up at a 100%, telling everyone ‘good morning’ in his raspy voice. She thinks its annoying, but the truth is if he doesn’t do this, we’ll go back to sleep and miss his whole day. She doesn’t get his obsession for good health, but if she just asked him about it, she would understand he actually believes that those junk foods can kill you slowly, and he can’t lose anyone in his life, so we all have to eat health food. At least around him. She doesn’t understand how he can feel so down after reading mean comments on the internet, because for her how could The Harry Styles feel anything less than perfect?! He thinks he’s not worth it, even though he truly does deserve everything good that ever happened to him. However, he has insecurities, because by the end of the day, he is just Harry. And all he really wants is cuddles and a few reassurance words that those people are just mean people and are not telling the truth.

She doesn’t know him and a part of me thinks she just doesn’t want to. Yes, she knows what he likes for breakfast, what calms him when his in a bad mood, but she doesn’t know the little things I do.

It’s sad, if you think about it. He’s been with her for 3 years and she doesn’t get him. Maybe that’s why when he needs someone, he runs to me. He runs to my house at 3 A.M just so he could talk about his bad day. She never saw him cry, because he only cries when we’re alone and he can truly show his feelings. I’m the first person he calls when something good or bad happens. I’m his emergence contact in the hospital, I’m his safe place to go when he needs to just take a break. I’m the one who could leave her whole life on hold, just to take care of him when needed.

It’s sad because even thought I am his person, I’m not his and he’s not mine. She has him and I can’t truly express how much I wish that could be me.

“He looks nervous.” I pointed out to Anne.

“I was about to ask you this… Do you know why? He’s been like this for a few weeks now.” She looked deep in thought, trying to find a reason for her son odd behavior.

“I think…” I was interrupted by Louis, who looked out of breath.

“You need to stop him, he will make a terrible mistake, please Y/N, stop him!”

“Louis, what’s going on? What are you talking about? Breathe, Lou.”

“You don’t get it, he’ll…”

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Harry called out from the center of the room. The party quickly died down, waiting for his speech. “I would like to thank you all for coming to my Dunkirk party. It’s so nice to enjoy the movie’s success with all of you, so thank you!”

Everyone around the room clapped and Louis was fussing by side. He looks nervous and I couldn’t understand why.

“As you know this is a special night for me and I wanted to be even more special. Lexa, can you come here, darling?” He asked his girlfriend to join him and I could already feel the tension growing around me. Anne, Louis, Niall, Liam, Lou and Gemma surrounded me and we all were just waiting for something to happen. Anything.

“Lexa, we’ve been together for 3 years next week and I feel so blessed to have you by side. I was smitten with you since the moment I saw you, you can ask Y/N for confirmation.” Everybody laughed a little and I could feel a knot in my through already. “So, in this special date for me and surrounded by friends and family, I would like to ask you…” he got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

And just like that my world stopped. I couldn’t hear anything, but I could see her nod and everyone clap for them. I think the boys were talking to me, but I could barely understand what was happening.

He proposed to her.

He is hers.

She is his.

And just like that I realized that all these years loving him, taking care of him, weren’t enough to make him fall for me. I was a silly girl who believed in the fairy tale that everyone thought we would live. I loved him with everything in me, I was always his but he was never mine.

And just like that I ran out of the party, leaving everyone – including the love of my life – behind.

I was always his.

He was never mine.

He was always hers.

*** 

Part 2

It’s been a while, I know, but I hope you’ve liked this. Please, leave me your thoughts about this oneshot, talk to me pleeease. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language!

All the love, B. 

MASTERLIST

inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

Owl post

So you know how owls don’t need an address to find the person the letter is addressed to? What if these owls were even cleverer than that?

Imagine Draco, sometime after the war, sitting alone in his flat and not knowing what to do with himself. He feels so empty, but on the other hand, there’s so much he wants to say. But who should he talk to? There’s nobody there. So he just begins writing his thoughts down. Sometimes it’s little poems. Sometimes it’s like he’s writing a journal. And sometimes he writes letters, addressed to no one. He keeps writing every day and whenever he’s finished, he puts the piece of parchment onto the little pile on his desk, where he keeps all his personal writing.

If Draco had been paying more attention, he would have noticed that this pile wasn’t getting any bigger. It stays exactly the same, because his sneaky little owl delivers one per day to the person she thought could help Draco the most.

When she lands on her usual windowsill on Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the window is already open and Harry is smiling at her with a treat in his hand.

“You’re very punctual,” he murmurs as he strokes her feathers. He carefully takes the piece of parchment out of her beak and smiles as she starts nibbling at her treat. Harry suspects Malfoy still doesn’t know that his owl is bringing him these letters.

Harry had been puzzled himself at first, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out who had written these. After that, he had tried to talk to the owl, tried to explain to her that she must have gotten the wrong address, because surely this wasn’t meant for him.

But the owl had come back every day, bringing Harry another piece of parchment and Harry had found himself mesmerized by them. The poems were heart-wrenching, Malfoy talking about his day made Harry want to go over there and talk to him. But he doesn’t dare. He would have to admit, he read Malfoy’s most inner thoughts without his consent. And Harry doubts, the Malfoy he would be facing would be the same as the Malfoy in these letters.

Sighing, Harry settles down on the couch and begins to read today’s owl post.

I had a dream last night. It wasn’t one of my usual nightmares, but I guess you could still call it that, because this will very likely haunt me for the rest of my days. It was about him. We were younger, much younger. We were on the Quidditch pitch, but not as enemies. We were just flying together, laughing together. It was so strange to see him like this. His eyes didn’t hold the resentment I am used to. He was looking at me like I was his whole world. It still hurts to think about it now. The worst part, however, was the way he cupped my cheeks and smiled at me, right before he kissed me. I could still feel his lips on mine when I woke up. I wasn’t even sure if I had been dreaming or not for a second. Then, reality crashed down on me again. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if he knew. If he had known back then. I’m not sure if it would have made a difference. All he ever did was hate me, just as much as I pretended to hate him. I regret he never saw the truth. All I ever wanted was him. And for one night, my mind granted me that wish. However, I hope it doesn’t happen again. Only if my mind decides to let me dream forever.

Harry feels dizzy when he puts the letter down. It’s true, he never saw the truth, never even knew there was a truth to be seen. He had never thought to look beyond their fighting and mutual obsession. Never thought it could mean something else entirely.

But over the past few weeks, he discovered a whole different side of Malfoy and thereby discovered something about himself. He wants to take Malfoy’s pain away. Maybe he’s been wanting to do that for a while. And now, Harry knows he can.

He jumps up from the couch and locks eyes with the owl, still sitting on the windowsill.

“You clever little thing,” he whispers to her, as he strokes her feathers one more time. She hoots happily, as if encouraging Harry to hurry up. So he does. He hurries out the door, to apparate to Malfoy’s flat. He has no idea how he will do it and how long it will take Malfoy to believe Harry’s intentions are genuine, but it doesn’t matter.

He will do everything he can to make Draco Malfoy’s dreams come true.


Part 2

You’re Nuts Dude (Tom Holland x Reader)

Note(s): Sorry I haven’t written anything in a while dolls! I’ve been camping so there’s not much time >.<  I think this is the longest imagine I’ve written so far! Hope you enjoy it dolls x


Warning(s): nothing, just major fluff and feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelsssssssss


Summary: Remember that girl? Who didnt believe Tom was Spidey? Yeah? Well she sure as hell does now.





Tom sighed as he slammed his temporary locker shut before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and stalking off. He couldn’t wait for this day to be over,  it would be his last time setting foot in this school. The last time he’d be publicly embarrassed in front of at least thirty science wiz kids. He’d finally be free.


It had been a joke when he suggested to Marvel that he spend sometime in a High School, since he was British and had no clue how High Schools worked. Apparently Marvel thought that it would be a good idea and so three weeks  later the British actor found himself outside the Bronx School of Science with a fake name,a  backpack and a pencil case.


His time at the school hadn’t been a complete nightmare. There was this one girl, who coincidentally was in all of the classes Tom had to attend. She had these, mesmerising (eye colour) eyes that complimented her soft (skin colour) skin, along with a smile that could light up an entire room. She was incredibly sweet and so smart that Tom would’ve been lying if he said that it wasn’t a turn on. Tom had remembered her name to be (Y/N) and he’d heard that she’d been practically guaranteed a place at Harvard University in the future.


The bell rung above the young actors head, signalling  the final period of the day. With a huff Tom made his way to class, praying that  time would pass quickly.





Tom couldn’t help himself from staring she was just so… beautiful. He was transfixed with the way  she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on solving the equation written out on the board. The way her hair would fall over her face as she worked, and how she would constantly have to brush behind her ears to prevent the luscious (hair colour) locks from obstructing her vision.


God, she was perfect.


Tom rested his face in the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on the desk for support. He gazed at her dreamily, wondering what’d be like to kiss those pretty pink lips, he bet they were soft and tasted of vanilla. He wondered what it’d be like to spend a Sunday afternoon with her, cuddling up in tons of blankets. He wondered-


“Mr Wilson, are you with us?”


At first Tom didn’t respond, still not used to being called by his fake name.  The professor standing at the head of the classroom called out again, attempting to gain Tom’s attention. All the while is brown hues were kept trained on her. “Sam Wilson?”


It wasn’t until she had turned her head to stare at Tom curiously that he realised he was been called. Sam Wilson. How ironic, marvel seriously couldn’t think of a better fake name.  He swore Anthony Mackey hated him anyways. Tom shook his head quickly, breaking out of his reverie and turning his attention to the teacher. “Ah-uh-um…y-yes sir?” Tom replied with a stammer, crumbling under the pressure of her intrigued gaze.


(Y/N) had her head turned to face the boy, an eyebrow quirked with interest. A smirk played at her pink lips as she eyed Tom, a mischievous glint in her       (eye colour) eyes. “Do you know the answer Mr Wilson?”


Tom’s head immediately snapped in the direction of the teacher’s voice, he glanced down at his worksheet only to see it completely blank. Damn physics. Damn (Y/N) for being so god damn attractive. And distracting. He looked back up at the teacher and shook his head with a blush, feeling 30 pairs of eyes trained on him. “Maybe if he stopped staring at (L/N) like that, he’d actually be able to get something right!”  A kid called out, sending the class intro streams of laughter.


Tom bowed his head, slightly embarrassed. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the (hair coloured) girl, turn away from him to flip off the other student. “Why don’t you shut up Alexander?” She snapped fiercely. “Let him stare! At least he knows he’s good enough to get some”.


The class was sent into fits of laughter, as Alexander ducked his head. (Y/N) turned back to look at Tom, a grin gracing her supple lips as she winked at him, he only nodded sheepishly in response before her attention was stolen by the teacher, who was attempting to silence the class.


After a few minutes of the teacher blabbing on about half-lives and the life cycle of a star, (Y/N) turned to face the British boy sitting next to her, doodling in his notebook. “Hey man” she called out, gaining Tom’s attention, their eyes met and she could see that Tom’s brown hues had a hit of nervousness in them. “What’s your deal?”


Tom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. This was the first time that she had talked to him directly and being the stupid teenage boy he was, Tom desperately wanted her to like him. He could make up some kind of lie? But then that would totally backfire on him since he’s a terrible liar. He could also tell the truth? I mean who wouldn’t find playing spiderman awesome? Not to mention the fact that honesty is the best policy.


“You wanna know what my secret is?” Tom blurted out before his brain could catch up. The girl beside him, only nodded. The boy sighed, before looking her directly in the eye. “I’m Spiderman”


Silence.


“My name isn’t Sam Wilson, it’s actually Tom Holland” the boy continued, in hopes of impressing the intelligent girl beside him. He quickly dropped the fake American accent to continue. “I’m British and I’ve been sent here undercover by Marvel for the past 3 days”


(Y/N) eyed him with a curious look before bursting out into fits of giggles, Tom watched her incredulously. She sure was gorgeous when she laughed, the way her smile reached her eyes where they would crinkle at the corner and- But she didn’t believe him?


“You’re-ha-so…funny!” The girl said between hushed giggles, leaning on the palm of her hand, smiling at Tom. He shook his head, a blush rising on his cheeks as the bell rung, signalling the end of class. (Y/N) briefly looked up, before leaning over her desk to wink at Tom.


She stood, picking up her bag and packing away her belongings before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Tom mimicked her actions, now standing opposite her awkwardly. “You’re a great lab partner” she said, grinning at him.


“T-thanks”. Tom stuttered “you are too”


She smiled, looking down at her feet. With a blush she looked up at Tom, moving to walk out of the class room as it cleared up. “I hope you have a nice weekend, ‘Tom Holland” she whispered sweetly, air quoting ‘Tom Holland’. “I’ll see ya on Monday? Yeah?”


Tom smiled at her sadly. “Yeah Monday…”






(Y/N) smiled as she stepped off the plane in Atlanta. The warm breeze, weaved its way through her lose (hair coloured) locks, causing it to gently sway in the breeze. She happily hopped down the steps , excited at the thought of exploring the state.


It was to be (Y/N)’s first time in Atlanta and she would be visiting her favourite person in the whole world. Her cousin, Laura Harrier.


(Y/N) and Laura had been extremely close since they were young, they did everything together and were practically like sisters. Although there were a good  six years between the two girls, they were almost identically alike.


The girl patiently waited for her luggage at the conveyer belt, her mind absently drifting of all the things she could do and explore in Atlanta. Her flower patterned suitcase went round the conveyer belt around at least five times before it was taken off by someone near by.


“I believe this belongs to you madam” the voice called out, grasping hold of the girl’s attention. (Y/N) turned, her (hair colour) locks bouncing as she did so. As she did, she was met with the beaming and radiant face of her cousin, Laura. The two girls squealed as they pulled each other on for a long and comforting hug. When they pulled away, Laura held her younger cousin at arms length, before giving her a twirl, causing the young girl’s sun dress to spin around with her.


“Laura!” (Y/N) chirped, quickly hugging her cousin again. “It’s so good to see you! I missed you so much!”


The older brunette, held her cousin at arms length, admiring her features. “I’ve missed you too! Look at how much you’ve grown!” Laura gushed, smiling down at her shorter relative. (Y/N) pouted playfully, softly smacking Laura on her arm.


“You make me sound like a baby” (Y/N) whined in a playful manner. Laura laughed at her, a mischievous glint in her brown doe eyes.


“That’s because you are a baby


“I’m only six years younger than you”


Laura smirked, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. “Exactly”


The pair begun to walk out of the airport, sunglasses pulled down over their eyes avoid the paparazzi. They managed to make their way to Laura’s sleek black car, where her driver loaded in the luggage and opened the door for the pair. “So I was thinking-” the twenty seven year old actress begun. “That we grab a bite to eat at this adorable little corner cafe downtown before we drop your bags off at the hotel and-”


“Sounds like you’ve got this all planned out” the (hair colour) girl grinned, an eyebrow quirked at her cousin. Laura rolled her eyes in response, before digging in her purse as her phone rung. She gave (Y/N) an apologetic smile, before answering the call with a hushed whisper. The younger cousin let out a hushed laugh, looking out the window as she did so, admiring the streets of the state she’d never been to before. The sun reflected of the roofs of cars, creating a glare with an array of colours. The sky was as clear as day, only small fragments of clouds dotting the pale blue abyss or disappearing into small wisps of white.


“Sorry about that” Laura’s voice pulled the younger girl out of her thoughts . “Tom managed to mess up a scene at the studio and they want me to come in to shoot it again”


Wait?” (Y/N) called out in shock, causing the driver to hit the breaks.  The pair of cousins were launched forward by the force, almost colliding with the backs of the chairs. “Scene? as in movie scene?


Laura laughed, slapping her cousin on the leg. “Well duh? I’m an actress! Silly!”


“I know that!” (Y/N) exclaimed, an expression of shock displayed on her soft features. “But you got a new role! Congratulations girl!”


The older brunette blushed bashfully, smiling a bit. The driver revved up the engine, moving along with the traffic and making a left for the studios. “I was going to surprise you, since you’re such a big marvel fan…”


Laura trailed off, winking at her cousin. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped, her (eye colour) doe eyes widening. This only meant one thing. “You’re in a Marvel movie?!”


It took all of the young woman’s will power not to scream in the car. All the while her older cousin and best friend sat there grinning. The younger cousin waved her hands about excitedly, having been a fan of the comics all her life and having a cousin in the newest movie was a big deal to her. She was proud of her cousin and was so excited to see how she would perform. Although (Y/N) was never really into the movies, she’d definitely be seeing this one in support of her elder cousin. “Yes! This is crazy right?” Laura gushed, grasping her cousin’s hands.


“So crazy!” (Y/N) grinned. “This is all so exciting!”


“Just wait until you meet the cast” the twenty-seven year old actress stated, absentmindedly, leaning over to point the driver in the right direction.


“The cast?!”


Let’s just say, (Y/N) almost deafened Laura and the driver.






After dropping off (Y/N)’s luggage at Laura’s trailer, the pair headed over to the lunch trailer to grab something to eat. The two cousins made their way up the steps together, Laura was chatting excitedly about the friends she had made a few months into shooting whilst her younger cousin absentmindedly day dreamed. She was about to meet the cast of a marvel movie. Right on the other side of the door could be stars like Robert Downey junior, or even Chris Evans!


They made their way through the door, opening it up to find an arguing  group of actors and actresses roughly their age. “One hundred percent Gryffindor student!” A male voice called out, as if his opinion wasn’t obvious enough. “I mean who’s gonna go 'Yeah I wanna be in Hufflepuff!’”


“A lot of people actually” a female voice interjected. “Eddie Redmayne in fact.”


(Y/N) rolled your eyes at the conversation. Any Harry Potter fan would know that Hufflepuff was J.K Rowling’s favourite house.  She looked to Laura who was already shaking her head with a knowing look. “I know what you’re thinking, and honestly they’re not that bad. Not everyone is a Harry Potter nerd like you” the older woman chuckled. (Y/N) grinned, taking hold of her cousin’s hand before heading further into the trailer. The pair headed straight for the snack table, gaining the attention of the cast.


“Hey guys!” Laura chirped, causing heads to turn in her direction. Three pairs of eyes connected with the two cousins.


Laura!” The group chorused, attacking her with hugs.


“What are you doing back here girl?” A voice she recognised to be Zendaya’s, questioned. “I thought you had the rest of the day off.


I did“ Laura giggled, with a smirk, her gaze drifting lazily over to a brunette haired male. “But someone, managed to mess up a scene. So I had to come back”

Of course” Zendaya laughed, her hair bouncing around as she playfully shook her head. Her brown eyes shifted to the figure standing behind the twenty-seven year old. “And who’s this cutie?”


At this point everyone had gathered by the table. Laura stepped aside, revealing her cousin to her friends. “Everyone, this is my younger cousin, (Y/N)”  Laura babbled sweetly. “She’s visiting from the Bronx!”


“Hey everyone” she whispered shyly.


As soon as the name was uttered, Tom’s eyes flickered up. That was a  name he hadn’t heard for years. He was certain that he’d misheard his co-star. As far as he was concerned, he’d seen the last of that girl after his time in high school. One of Tom’s biggest regrets was not giving her his number. If he had a pound for every time he’d thought of her, he’d be filthy rich, or even more.


The British actor swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched Laura and her  younger cousin make rounds, meeting everyone. She’d already met Zendaya, and was now talking with Jacob. 'This couldn’t be her, no way.’ He thought, it was highly unlikely, it was virtually impossible, it was-


You?!” She shrieked, her (eye colour) doe eyes widening as she dropped her bag. Tom’s mouth dropped open. It really was her.


(Y/N) (L/N). The girl he constantly thought about for the last 3 years. All the while, the three remaining actors eyed the pair curiously.


“Do you two…know each other?” Jacob asked. A small blush rose on Tom’s cheeks as he tried to make eye contact with the girl opposite him. He noticed how her eyebrows were still raised in shock and how her eyes shined with recognition.


“Yeah…” (Y/N) spoke cautiously, reaching down to pick up her bag, sadness etched into her voice “Sam went to my high school for about three days, he disappeared and I never saw him again.”


Zendaya, Laura and Jacob eyed each other weirdly, before looking back at the confused pair. “Sam?” Zendaya laughed. “That’s Tom sweet cheeks”


Tom grimaced, as (Y/N)’s expression twisted from one of shock to one of confusion. The atmosphere was tense, you could cut the tension with a knife in there. A small, pink blush dusted her cheeks, as she tried to piece together the situation. “But I-but-he-we”


So this was the girl Tom talked about in his interviews” Jacob teased with a wink. “The pretty girl who didn’t believe he was Spidey, the one who called him crazy?”


Laura looked at (Y/N), shocked. “You’re that girl?”


(Y/N) stood opposite Tom, blushing hard. She had no idea what was going on, or how to wrap her head around the situation. Sam was Tom. Tom was Sam. There was no Sam. The cute nerdy boy from her physics class was Tom Holland. The Tom Holland. An actor.


Before anyone had a chance to speak, a stage hand came in to ask for the young actors. Laura was needed in hair and makeup so she could re-shoot her scene. Zendaya and Jacob were also needed as they had a couple lines in the scene. Tom had to reshoot his part a bit later as he had to put on the suit.


“Make sure she doesn’t die!” Laura called out as she left, causing both Jacob and Zendaya  to laugh out loud. They soon exited , leaving Tom and (Y/N) alone. Since it was a nice day out, Tom offered to take the younger girl on a tour of the sets. They explored the prop rooms and costume areas, they also talked about the movie. Tom did is best to make sure he didn’t tell (Y/N) any spoilers. He loved seeing how her eyes lit up as they walked between sets and admired different props. He loved the way her small fingers trailed over the costumes carefully, as if she was afraid to damage them.


Suddenly, the weather changed from sunny to dark and dreary. The grey clouds chucking down buckets of rain. The pair growing cold and soaked, ran quickly back to Tom’s trailer to seek shelter. Once inside, they shed their jackets that clung to their skin and Tom quickly changed his shirt (not that (Y/N) minded, she liked the way Tom’s abs looked). He timidly offered (Y/N) a spare shirt of his own and was waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.


The girl stepped out of the cramped space, her now wet clothes folded into a neat pile as she let Tom’s white shirt flow over her body. Her bare feet padded over the carpeted floor, as she made her way to Tom’s leather couch on the far side of his trailer.


He was scrolling through his phone, replying to fan’s tweets and liking Instagram fan art. He barely noticed (Y/N) sitting down beside him. She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them before propping her chin up. The       (skin toned) girl coughed lightly, capturing Tom’s attention.


“So, Monday huh?” She whispered, with a light chuckle, remembering their last conversation. At this point, Tom had slipped his phone into his back pocket.


“Yeah...Monday


They both laughed, it was almost as if they were reliving the conversation. There was a silence that swept over the pair, the only sounds coming from the rain beating on the roof of the trailer. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again” Tom spoke after a little while. (Y/N) looked up at him, taking in his soaked and adorable appearance. The way his hair fell over his soft brown eyes. God he was cute.


She let out a small laugh. “Don’t you think I should be the one saying that?” Tom let a small smile grace his lips as she talked. “I mean, I was looking forward to seeing you that next Monday, I came back to find out you had gone, gotta say, I was heart broken. Mr Wilson


Tom laughed at his fake name, before shifting fully to face her . “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye”


“You better be sorry” (Y/N) scolded playfully, slyly grinning at the young actor. “I had just worked up the courage to ask you out, I really liked you, y'know?”


It was Tom’s turn to be surprised, he couldn’t believe the girl he was crushing on liked him back. “Y-y-yo-you liked me?” He stuttered, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck . (Y/N) nodded bashfully, smiling at Tom.


“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stared at me, I thought it was cute!”


Tom couldn’t help but hide his face in a pillow, when (Y/N) laughed at his cuteness he chucked the cushion at her, hitting her square in the face. She squealed, trying to push herself away from him as the British boy launched himself at her, his fingers attacking her sides.


“Puh-pah-please Tom!” She begged between breathless giggles as he tickled her some more. Eventually, when her laughs turned to wheezes, Tom ceased his tickling. It was only then that they realised the position they were in, her back was to the sofa and Tom was laying between her legs, their faces pressed close and his hands by her sides.


(Y/N) looked Tom directly in the eyes, admiring the little flecks of black in his brown hues. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that you were actually Tom Holland”


Tom smiled gently. “And I can’t believe I didn’t ask you  out sooner”


(Y/N) noticed how the air in the room had become scarce, and how hot her body felt pressed up beneath Tom’s. She thought back to how hard she’d been crushing on him during her senior year and how much she’d thought about letting him get away. Even after all these years, her feelings for him were still strong. She let her (eye colour) hues flick between his own and his lips.


At the same time, Tom thought about all the months he regretted not trying to stay in contact, he thought about all the times he wished she could’ve been his. And here she was, wrapped up in his arms, close to him. Before the British actor could even process what he was doing, his eyes had fluttered closed and he was pressing his lips to hers.


The kiss was sweet and full of so many unspoken emotions. The girls soft lips melded perfectly with Tom’s as they captured one another. (Y/N) let her small hands travel to the nape of the boy’s neck, her fingers twisting in the small hairs that resided there. The British actor snaked his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. The bare skin of her smooth thighs creating a burn on his arms as he lifted her. When they pulled away, (Y/N)’s eyes were still closed. Tom grinned, pressing a small kiss to her nose, causing her to open them. She smiled up at him.


“Wow” she breathed, causing the man above her to nod in agreement. “I guess we better thank Marvel, for sending you to my school or otherwise this wouldn’t have happened”


Tom gave the girl in his arms a toothy smile as she lazily gazed up at  him, her soft fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of his arms. “And I guess I have a new story to tell in my interviews”


“You do?”  She smirked. “What’s it about?”


“It’s about how I get the girl that didn’t believe me and how head over heels I am for her” Tom murmured, leaning in for another kiss. (Y/N) sighed, contented.


“Is that your way of asking me out Mr Holland?” (Y/N) teased causing the actor to roll his eyes.


“And  what if it was? What would you say?”


The young girl pretended to ponder for a second, before leaning up to Tom’s ear. “I’d say, 'you’re nuts dude’” she whispered “do you know what I’d say next?”


“What would you say next?” The brunette boy whispered back, leaning down, so that their lips were almost touching.


“I’d say…hell yes”

Whiskey

A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,717 (yup…)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :) 



You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.

Howl at the Moon

Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.

Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.

It kept your life interesting.

The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.

Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.

Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”

You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”

You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.

Keep reading

100 Instant NPC Agendas

When running campaign encounters, especially in a town or city environment, count on players to surprise you by seeking out encounters with walk-on NPCs you haven’t detailed. 

Whether their characters want to speak to merchants, burghers, servants, or criminals, this list of instant personalities and agendas is perfect for surprise NPCs.

Don’t bother to create an interesting character for every single encounter. 

Many scenes are best left short and sweet, allowing you to move on to an entertaining scene that relates to the main adventure. 

Every so often, you should throw in a memorable character whose agenda has nothing to do with the main plot. 

This creates the illusion that your world is a living, complex place, not a mere backdrop for the adventurers’ activities. 

Often, players remember these improvised characters and come back to them, weaving them into the ongoing story of your campaign.

Keep reading

Jen’s guide to the Lapidot in the SDCC trailer

Alright, folks – I’m gonna try and answer the most common questions that you’ve been asking me regarding the fabled SDCC trailer, all in one place, and throw some of my early thoughts and analysis out there.   I might have already covered some of these points briefly, but we’ll go with it anyway for the sake of completeness.

Warning: long post incoming.

Is Lapis going to leave Peridot and Pumkin?

The trailer makes it look that way, but it’s worth bearing in mind that trailers can be very misleading indeed (not intentionally, but they’re cut in such a way that they’re designed to create maximum hype and are very easy to misinterpret).

There’s nothing to say that this:

will definitely come after this:

Sure, that’s the common assumption, but how do we know that Lapis doesn’t leave in the first image and then get reunited with Peridot in the second image?

We also don’t know for sure that Lapis is even leaving at all! Remember in Room For Ruby when Lapis got upset and her immediate reaction was to fly away from everyone?  Well, that could very well be what’s happening here.  She might just need to spend some time alone, exactly as she did in that episode, rather than actually leaving the vicinity completely for whatever reason.

- If Lapis leaves, is it because she doesn’t care about Peridot?  Is Lapidot really one-sided, like the haters claim it is?

No, and no.

Lapis suffers from PTSD, which means that her fear of the impending war could completely override all of her other emotions – including her feelings about Peridot.  

And as for Lapidot being one-sided…

Originally posted by geekylaugifs

Originally posted by ms-paint-peridot

…absolutely not! Lapis has made her feelings perfectly clear on a number of occasions.  And:

Look at her face in the trailer here.  If she’s leaving, she feels horrendous about it.

Let’s not forget the Shoulder Squeeze as well!

The camera here is putting complete emphasis on the squeeze, because it’s a vitally important moment that sees Lapis (physically, and most probably metaphorically) holding onto Peridot.  There’s something incredibly tender and meaningful about this, and I can’t wait to see it in context.

- There’s a “Shorty Squad” episode coming up.  Does that mean A//me//dot might have a shot instead of Lapidot, if Lapis has left?!

That’s extremely doubtful.

There could be any number of reasons for Peridot going with Steven and Amethyst.  Perhaps Lapis has left, and they’re trying to cheer her up? Or maybe Lapis is still at the barn but has withdrawn herself and is extremely upset, so Peridot removes herself from the situation in order to give her room-mate some space (because, again, Lapis likes to be alone when she’s upset)?  We just don’t know.

There’s nothing in the trailer to suggest that we’ll have any “A//me//dot moments” – it’s more likely going to be a return to that lovely sibling dynamic that we saw in the previous Shorty Squad episode (as well as the recent Shorty Squad comic).  Lapis and Peridot’s relationship, romantic or otherwise, is most likely going to be front-and-centre of this latest arc; so I feel like it’d be incredibly out of place to suddenly start dropping A//me//dot hints instead.

Whatever way you look at it, this episode is probably going to provide a lot of character development for (a possibly heartbroken) Peridot, so it’s definitely one to watch out for!

- If Lapis has gone, will she be back?  Is Lapidot now dead? D:

Guys, seriously – it’ll all be fine!

Jennifer and Shelby have been recording with each other recently, as well as many other times in the past.  If Lapis leaves, it’s a 100% guarantee that she’ll be back again.

There’s an expression that I’ve brought up a few times in the past couple of days, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”.  If Lapis and Peridot do spend some time apart, it’s highly likely that they’ll bounce back from this with a stronger relationship than ever.

As someone who’s previously had to spend months at a time away from my then-fiancé (due to him living in California and me living in England, before he could move over here to live with me), I can attest to that expression!  It’s horrific being away from the one you love for a prolonged period of time – but you feel on top of the world when you finally reunite.

- Do you think we’ll see the Lapidot fusion in this arc?

It’s very, very likely.

For all we know, this:

could be Peridot holding her hand out to Lapis, as an invitation to fuse with her.  Which, incidentally:

Originally posted by zarryya

would be a pretty incredible parallel to this!  The camera angle is the same and everything.  A loving fusion born out of hope and trust, versus a hate-fuelled fusion born out of anger and a desire for revenge.

Fusion seems like the natural “next step” for Lapis and Peridot, given how incredibly close their relationship with each other is.  There’s also the fact that Peridot is almost defenceless on her own (thanks to the tragic loss of her limb enhancers) – so if Lapis decides to fight, she’ll probably want to protect Peridot.  And what better way of doing that than to physically fight with Peridot by forming a fusion with her?!

- Do you think it’ll provide good character development for Lapis and Peridot if Lapis does leave?  When they reunite, will we see how much Lapis does care for Peridot (as that’s what some people struggle to see)?  Will Lapis learn she can’t run from all her problems forever?

Absolutely, on all counts.

Peridot will be heartbroken if Lapis does leave.  It’d be painful to watch, I think.

But I imagine that their reunion would be a big, heartfelt thing.  Peridot would  probably be the main reason why Lapis decides to return!  She might end up feeling guilty for leaving her little green bean on her own, and decide to come back for her even if it means facing up to something that she’s completely terrified of.  This could be the start of Lapis facing up to her past head-on, rather than burying her emotions and letting the past drag her down into some very dark places. Indeed, this could even lead to her and Jasper eventually settling their differences – and Lapis fully forgiving the Crystal Gems.

In any event, Peridot is going to be a huge part of her recovery – which is something that seems to have already begun.  

- Do you think Peridot could end up being in danger if Lapis leaves – but then Lapis swoops in to save her?  Could we see Peridot poof?  

Either one of those scenarios could play out (or perhaps, even both of them).

We know it’s only a matter of time until Peridot gets her star.  This was confirmed well over a year ago, if memory serves, so it’s likely to be happening very soon now.

Things are going to start getting very real and very dangerous. This could also lead to the retrieval of Peridot’s limb enhancers (perhaps by Lapis), so that she can defend herself against whatever Homeworld is about to throw at the earth.