paper bag brown

An Unexpected Surprise - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Requested: Nope. Just an idea I had for a Liam imagine.

Word Count: 3,320

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of implied smut/sex, Teenage pregnancy

Author’s Note: It’s been a while since I’ve written a Liam imagine. I miss writing about my SMOL. I hope you like it. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated :)

[My Teen Wolf Master List]

Originally posted by onlyateendreamerdiary

“Come on, come on, come on,” Y/N repeated as she paced back and forth in her bathroom while looking at the timer on her phone in her hand.

Two days ago Y/N realized she was late and bought a pregnancy test at the drug store on the way home from school. For two days, she had the brown paper bag with the test hidden inside behind her towels in the linen closet of her bathroom. As soon as she woke up this morning, she double-checked if the house was empty as her parents were supposed to leave early for a business trip. When the coast was clear, she took out the test, peed on the stick, and was now experiencing the most torturous three minutes of her life as she waited to see if the test was positive or negative.

Y/N’s phone vibrated as the timer finally rang. Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she grabbed the test and sat on the toilet. She silently prayed the test would be negative. She was never a religious person, but right now she hoped some higher power would answer her prayer. She was only a junior in high school and a werewolf. She wasn’t ready to be a mother.

She took a deep breath before she opened her eyes and turned the test around to look at the results.

Positive.

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Title: Checking Up On You

(gif belongs to of-badges-of-guns <3)

A/N: Feedback is welcomed and very much appreciated. Hope you all enjoy it, as always, thank you for reading <3

Requested by: Anon - “Number 40 with Gibbs please? :)”

Word Count: 494
Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x Reader

40. “You know, you can stay if you want to.”

You hobbled over to your apartment door, running the chain lock along the metal rail and pulling it open, “You didn’t have to come.” You mumbled, shifting over to let your boss into your home.

“I know.” He replied and closed the door with his free hand, the other held a brown paper bag along with a takeout bag, “But I also know that you haven’t eaten since you left the hospital yesterday.”

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Bullet Journaling: a masterpost.

Bullet Journal Things ♡
inspiration/ideas:

⁃ constellation chart
⁃ cute quotes/doodles
⁃ stress management pages
⁃ use brown paper bags ripped out for doodles
⁃ cut out things from magazines/paper bags
⁃ order stickers
⁃ washi tape EVERYTHING
⁃ order black pens
⁃ use markers
⁃ work on cursive
⁃ idea/random thought pages
⁃ picture pages
⁃ books to read
⁃ movies/shows to watch
⁃ daily reminders
⁃ habit trackers
⁃ thoughtful pages (philosophy, science, book reviews, etc.)
⁃ bookmarks
⁃ websites
⁃ start a blog/continue studyblr
⁃ songs/albums to hear
⁃ messy/creative spreads
⁃ pastels (esp. pink)
⁃ doodle banners/headers/fillers
⁃ rant pages
⁃ order a watercolour palette
⁃ advice/how-to pages (how to become a morning person)
⁃ travel pages
⁃ dream journal pages
⁃ use song lyrics
⁃ poetry pages
⁃ astronomy
⁃ yearly spread
⁃ new years resolution
⁃ mini monthly calendars
⁃ birthdays
⁃ spending chart
⁃ receipt pockets
⁃ health pages
⁃ decor/interior decorating/dream house pages
⁃ coffee tracker
⁃ water tracker
⁃ lipstick kisses
⁃ sticky notes
⁃ handwriting samples
⁃ paint swatches
⁃ wish lists (swell water bottle, more notebooks, black pens, phone adapter, etc.)
⁃ passwords
⁃ gift ideas
⁃ shopping lists
⁃ recipes
⁃ trip ideas
⁃ self care
⁃ ticket stubs
⁃ dried/pressed flower petals
⁃ weather
⁃ paintings (The Swing)
⁃ colour schemes
⁃ words (darling, daydreaming, celestial, astral, entropic, enigmatic, paradoxical, etc.)
⁃ themes lists (The Swing, coffeehouse, forest, ocean, London, yellow, space, inferno, candide, the odyssey, etc.)
⁃ construction paper
⁃ get pictures developed
⁃ order more picture corners
⁃ dictionary pages
⁃ buy scrapbook pages
Things to put in your journal:
http://studywithinspo.tumblr.com/post/153622119945/112416-pretty-in-pink-in-a-thanksgiving
http://lostlxmb.tumblr.com/post/153478048392/nov-21-2016-its-finally-thanksgiving-break
http://acadaemic.tumblr.com/post/153572080605/super-pink-super-soft-spread-from-last-week
https://studyfulltime.tumblr.com/post/153917313189/112-this-month-and-this-weekim-trying-something
http://journalsanctuary.tumblr.com/post/152787633563/doodle-ideas-1-plants-remember-when-i-asked-you
http://journalsanctuary.tumblr.com/post/154391532418/lettering-tips-i-did-a-thing-d-its-been-ages
Even More Things To Add To Your Bullet Journal
http://nag-aaral.tumblr.com/post/154970947270/week-51-important-life-decisions-made-and-im
http://studyrose.tumblr.com/post/154472885699/i-really-really-like-the-way-my-spread-is-shaping
https://gooseapartment.tumblr.com/post/152800191105/06112016-the-way-to-you-becomes-a-flower-path
http://journalsanctuary.tumblr.com/post/154593004978/december-17-2016-ive-decided-to-take-a-break
Page Ideas for My Bullet Journal
ideas for bullet journal spreads
http://time-to-get-focused.tumblr.com/post/137187238739/ta-da-my-banner-page-is-complete-so-stoked
Bullet Journal page ideas for 2016
http://alicesbulletjournal.tumblr.com/post/153361332097/bullet-journal-page-dividers
http://brighterplaces.tumblr.com/post/149837586299/september-plan-with-me-i-tried-using-washi-tapes
http://haleystudies.tumblr.com/post/138512058801/cute-lil-bullet-journal-page
http://lillstudies.tumblr.com/post/151712672576/my-first-ever-bullet-journal-page-ive-started-in
http://lnkstones.tumblr.com/post/142433450475/bullet-journal-page-ideas-page-4
http://please-justletmepass.tumblr.com/post/136362433981/bullet-journal-my-motivation-page-can-you
bullet journal pages
http://allcutified.tumblr.com/post/155114756855/so-2016-will-last-only-a-few-days-and-now-im
ideas for bullet journal spreads
http://studywithinspo.tumblr.com/post/153441714765/the-evolution-of-my-bullet-journal-in-seven
Things to put in your journal:
http://lostlxmb.tumblr.com/post/153478048392/nov-21-2016-its-finally-thanksgiving-break
http://icecreamandcereal.tumblr.com/post/153688759561/bullet-journal-essentials
http://lycheestudy.tumblr.com/post/154048502593/120416-starting-a-new-bullet-journal-in-a
http://literahti.tumblr.com/post/154322031662/11122016-working-on-my-bullet-journal-for
http://bulletsjournal.tumblr.com/post/154354045442/doodles-x-printables-x-dailyweeklymonthly
http://studykouffee.tumblr.com/post/154630879928/181216-a-spread-just-for-christmas-ꈍ-ꈍ
http://baby-gloom.tumblr.com/post/154168911959/recent-planner-pages-to-read-to-watch-food-log
http://studyrose.tumblr.com/post/155108970349/my-bullet-journal-flip-through-video-is-live-go
http://studyguideverified.tumblr.com/post/155017107099/ina-studies-just-in-case-this-helps-anyone-go
http://studyjewel.tumblr.com/post/155108890727/holocrams-12-19-17-little-journal-plant
http://biiostudy.tumblr.com/post/155318626406/reviseordie-how-to-illustrate-your-notes-if-this
Bullet journal quotes part II
Celebrate every tiny victory
Pages for your 2017 bujo
http://academiix.tumblr.com/post/155368727211/3100-productivity-days-saw-this-lovely-spread
Things to put in your journal:
http://studyguideverified.tumblr.com/post/155636706994/thearialligraphyproject-weve-talked-about-how
http://acadehmic.tumblr.com/post/155876681082/acadehmic-hey-everyone-its-about-time-i-made

One day there was an anonymous present sitting on my doorstep—Volume One of Capital by Karl Marx, in a brown paper bag. A joke? Serious? And who had sent it? I never found out. Late that night, naked in bed, I leafed through it. The beginning was impenetrable, I couldn’t understand it, but when I came to the part about the lives of the workers—the coal miners, the child laborers—I could feel myself suddenly breathing more slowly. How angry he was. Page after page. Then I turned back to an earlier section, and I came to a phrase that I’d heard before, a strange, upsetting, sort of ugly phrase: this was the section on “commodity fetishism,” “the fetishism of commodities.” I wanted to understand that weird-sounding phrase, but I could tell that, to understand it, your whole life would probably have to change. His explanation was very elusive. He used the example that people say, “Twenty yards of linen are worth two pounds.” People say that about every thing that it has a certain value. This is worth that. This coat, this sweater, this cup of coffee: each thing worth some quantity of money, or some number of other things—one coat, worth three sweaters, or so much money—as if that coat, suddenly appearing on the earth, contained somewhere inside itself an amount of value, like an inner soul, as if the coat were a fetish, a physical object that contains a living spirit. But what really determines the value of a coat? The coat’s price comes from its history, the history of all the people involved in making it and selling it and all the particular relationships they had. And if we buy the coat, we, too, form relationships with all those people, and yet we hide those relationships from our own awareness by pretending we live in a world where coats have no history but just fall down from heaven with prices marked inside. “I like this coat,” we say, “It’s not expensive,” as if that were a fact about the coat and not the end of a story about all the people who made it and sold it, “I like the pictures in this magazine.”A naked woman leans over a fence. A man buys a magazine and stares at her picture. The destinies of these two are linked. The man has paid the woman to take off her clothes, to lean over the fence. The photograph contains its history—the moment the woman unbuttoned her shirt, how she felt, what the photographer said. The price of the magazine is a code that describes the relationships between all these people—the woman, the man, the publisher, the photographer—who commanded, who obeyed. The cup of coffee contains the history of the peasants who picked the beans, how some of them fainted in the heat of the sun, some were beaten, some were kicked.For two days I could see the fetishism of commodities everywhere around me. It was a strange feeling. Then on the third day I lost it, it was gone, I couldn’t see it anymore.
— 

Wallace Shawn, The Fever


(To understand it, your whole life would probably have to change.)

bismuth headcanon

“okay guys im gonna go see connie!” 

and bismuth hands him a brown paper bag with a smile “i made you lunch!” steven opens the bag. it’s just rocks. handfuls of rocks. pebbles, stones.

bismuth is beaming. “they make ya big and strong! like me!”

Home Invasion (Peter Parker x Reader)-Part 1

Character Pairing: Tom Holland’s Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3,140 (might have changed I went back a revised a bit)

Warning: Rape mentions, cussing, literally the title (if that’s even a warning you never know with Tumblr)

 You hated being home alone. When your parents first told you that they had to go to a family friend’s wedding, you panicked. You pleaded to go with them, not because you had wanted to see the ceremony, but because you couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in the apartment all by yourself. Of course they had said no, just for the sake of airfare prices, but it wasn’t that much of a letdown since you didn’t even know the bride and groom anyways. Being the stubborn girl you were though, you were relentless with your parents about going, until they finally bribed you into keeping your mouth shut. 

 Not surprisingly, you spent half of the money they gave you on takeout food, since cooking for one is just too much of a hassle. Plus, cooking for just yourself was yet another reminder that you were completely alone in your apartment. 

 Grabbing the brown paper bag of food and a soda, you made your way over to your room. You plopped down on your bed, and began to flip through channels on your T.V. It didn’t take long to find a good movie, this one in particular was actually one of your favorites, so you were quite content, getting swept up into the storyline almost immediately.

 Although, at some point while watching, you felt a wave of loneliness hit you so abruptly, it made your heart sore. You all of a sudden craved the presence of another person with you, just to keep you company. Knowing this feeling wouldn’t go away on it’s own, you called the first person you wanted to be with at the moment. Your best friend, Peter Parker.

 Tapping on his contact, and putting your phone to your ear, you waited patiently while listening to the dial go off every few seconds. Normally, he’d pick up within seconds, the sound of his eager voice greeting you was what you had expected. But after a couple of minutes of waiting, when he answered, he spoke in a low, hushed tone. “Hey [Y/N.]”

 “Hey Peter, so my parents aren’t home now and I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to come over a-”

 You stopped talking when you heard shuffling sounds and yelling on Peter’s line. Where was he? “Parker, are you okay? What’s going on?” You questioned, your voice heavy with concern. 

 As the phone was silent, you stood up from your bed and began pacing nervously, waiting for him to answer. Your worry only began to heighten every time a sound other than Peter’s voice emitted from your cell. You began to consider hanging up on him and dialing 911, but then you realized that would be pointless since you have no clue where he is. He definitely wasn’t at home judging from the sounds of cars every so often. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting anxiously, he responded. “Look [Y/N],” he sighed, a bit of guilt laced in his voice, “As much as I’d like to come over, I’m sorta caught up with some stuff right now.”

 You frowned, not only because he was rain checking yet again- even more-so when he knew you were all alone, but also because you were distraught about this whole phone call. Why was he acting so weird? Peter had been acting off for a while now, but this was a whole new level for him.

 “I’m sorry, I know how much you hate being home alone,” he whispered now, rushing through his words as if he just wanted to end the phone call, which made you even more upset. “I’ll make it up to you though, I promise.”

 As you heard the three beeps that signaled Peter had hung up, tears began forming in your eyes, causing a stinging sensation. Closing them, you pressed your fingers against your eyelids, trying to wipe away the feeling. How could he be so indifferent with you?

 Peter had been different for a while now, and you’ve grown so used to this side of him, you chose to ignore it for the most part, almost becoming blind to it. Almost. Every now and then, you would catch him in a lie while he tried to make an excuse up for why he didn’t have time to hangout with you, but you never dared to confront him about it. It just wasn’t your style. Well, it wasn’t your style until now. This was your last straw, and you promised yourself the next time you see him, you’d ask him what his problem is.

 Although you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared Peter was just blowing you off because he didn’t want to be your friend anymore. Maybe he was getting sick of you, found you to be clingy, and he was just too sweet of a guy to ever say that to your face. It was a horrible thought that made your heart hurt every time you’d think about it.

 You sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders hunched forward and your head in your hands just crying, drowning in your thoughts. Even though Peter had done this for a while now, it just dawned on you how much you missed him. The intense pain of loneliness you had felt before dulled out after a while but it still hurt. You somehow knew this discomfort you felt wouldn’t go away until you could see Peter again. You wanted to hear his melodic laugh as you told him a joke, and hell, you would sign up to be a comedian if it meant listening to that forever. You wanted to see his cute little grin when he’d walk up to your locker in the hallways at school, greeting you, his eyes lighting up when you smiled sweetly back at him. You missed the science banter between him and Ned, always being on his side, even if he was wrong. You couldn’t wait to see the next time he’d awkwardly stumble, and you as always, would laugh your ass off as you watched his cheeks bloom with a tint a of red. Don’t even get started on the way he speaks with such passion about the Stark internship. He was so dedicated to the job, it made you happy he found something that he loved so much. You missed everything about him. 

As you dozed asleep, emotionally and physically drained, you had one last thought before you completely slipped unconscious.

 I think I like Peter Parker.


 You woke up to the sound of glass breaking outside of your bedroom. It sounded a bit muffled, but it was loud enough to wake you up. Maybe it was just a cup falling in the kitchen, you tried to reassure yourself. A few moments after the crash though, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps. They sounded a bit farther off outside your room, but you knew for sure that these noises were coming from your apartment.

 Now fully alert, you swung your legs around to the side of your mattress and stood up cautiously, not wanting to make any noise. Your heart began to thump hard against your chest as you tiptoed silently to your door. A plan of escape began to form in your head, which had nothing to do with going through the main doors as an exit, but you wanted to see the intruder’s face before leaving. After all, if the police were to catch this guy when you notified them later on, they’re going to need a description. Grasping the doorknob, and giving it a slow turn, you smoothly swiveled your door open and poked your head out.

 Your eyes scanned your apartment, quickly locating the invader. Judging by their height and broader shoulders, this person was a man. His back was facing you as he was tearing apart your living room, not even bothering to keep the noise level down. 

 That’s when a thought popped in your head. He seemed to have known that your parents would be gone, since he obviously isn’t being quite stealthy. This is someone you knew. Someone who was a neighbor in your apartment. He must have assumed you had gone away with your parents if he was being so careless at the moment.

 Breaking yourself out of thought, you suddenly had a brilliant idea. It would just take being careful and waiting for the perfect moment. Grabbing your cell phone from the pocket of your hoodie, you opened the camera app, holding it up to the man. As you were waiting for the burglar to turn his face, something caught your eye on the phone screen. Squinting to try and make out what it was in the dark, your eyes widened as you put your hand over your mouth in horror when you realized what he was holding. It was a knife.

 At this point, you honestly couldn’t care less if you shot a good picture of his face or not, you just wanted to get the hell out of there. Preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and with shaking fingers, pressed the camera button.

 You knew what your mistake was seconds too late. 

 You kept the flash setting on.

 The whole living room lit up in a bright light, the burglar whipping his head in your direction. This man definitely lived in your apartment, you’ve seen him around before, but you never learned his name.

  When his cold, menacing eyes met yours, you felt the dread of your mistake wash over your whole body like a wave. It was the most horrible feeling you’ve ever felt, the realization of how dangerous this whole situation was, now that he knew you were here.

 Thinking fast, you swiftly slammed your door shut, locked it, and pushed a chair up against it. You didn’t know how you even managed to do that, since your whole body was shaking due to the fear coursing through you like venom. You ran towards your window, beginning to turn all the safety locks your parents had installed on it. 

 “You can’t escape from me, [Y/N].” The man said, his voice so sinister sounding, you couldn’t help it as a chill ran down your spine. The way he addressed you was so… final. Almost as if he was one hundred percent sure he was going to catch you. Finalize you.

 Heart rate quickening at that thought, you began using all the strength in your arms to pull up the window, but cursing loudly to yourself when it wouldn’t budge. The locks were jammed from all the years of never opening this window, you always opened the smaller one, but you were much too big to fit through that one.

 “C’mon [Y/N], think, think, think,” muttering to yourself as your eyes scanned across your room, until they landed on baseball bat. You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a cry of relief, rushing over to the other side of your room to grab it.

 Ironically enough, you always kept that baseball bat beside your bed in case anything like this were to happen. You could cry you felt so grateful that your past self was crazy-cautious enough to go through the measures of putting it there.

 You were just about to swing the baseball bat into the window to smash it when you heard it.

 First, it was just heavy pounding against your door.

 Then it was the distinct sound of wood cracking under pressure.

 He was breaking down your door.

 Knowing your door would only take a few more blows, you hastily struck your window with the bat, the sound of breaking glass sharp in your ears. The cold city wind rushed in as soon as the window had been smashed, nipping at your nose, but you didn’t care.

 You had to keep moving if you wanted to make it out of this alive.

 You swung one of your legs out of the window, straddling it, and planted your foot on the fire escape platform. The glass was cutting into your thighs and hands but you didn’t feel anything at the moment. You were numb, the only thing that mattered was escaping. 

 As you began to bring your other leg around the window sill, you saw a shadow move in the corner of your eye. Your neck snapped to the side and you couldn’t help it as you let out a shrill shriek, seeing the man break through the door with a loud CRACK, not even pausing as he stalked towards you. You stumbled onto the fire escape, and strangely enough, the panic didn’t fully set in until now. Panicking lead to not being able to think straight, and not being able to think straight lead you to making possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made: you started running up the stairs instead of down.

 A sob escaped your lips when the realization of this mistake hit you, but it was too late anyways. The man was behind you, already climbing the set of stairs you just finished going up. You didn’t dare to look back, fearing that you would freeze up if you didn’t like how close he was getting to you.

 What would happen once you reached the top? There was nowhere to go once you got to the roof. Would the man quickly end your life, so there were no witnesses to his burglary, or would he make you suffer? A shudder ran through your body as you thought about the possible ways he could slowly kill you off. 

 You didn’t know whether or not this was the final chapter to your life, but one thing was for sure. You would keep fighting until there was no use. When you couldn’t run anymore, you would crawl. When you couldn’t crawl anymore, you would drag yourself inch by inch, still trying to get away. That’s just how you were. You were too stubborn to give up.

 You were so swept up in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you had reached the top. That’s when the fear that you had pushed away this whole time, tucking it into a corner of your mind, was rushing back with an overwhelmingly intenseness to it. The feeling was so strong, it knocked the wind out of you, leaving you a heaving mess, gasping for air. This was it. You were done for.

 And he knew it. 

 The man chuckled, probably because you now stood in front of him, all thoughts of escape gone. You were like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, moving sporadically, feet planted, body frozen in place. Not knowing where to go. 

 Ever since you were young, you’d always made fun of the stupid teenage girls in horror movies that just stood in place as the killer approached them. Now in their place, you gulped down the lump in your throat as you realized how they had felt.

 The knife in his hand gleamed under the moonlight, now so foreboding-looking, you couldn’t help it as tears began to form in your eyes. Being the stubborn girl you’ve always been -not wanting to show any signs of weakness, you fought them, trying to not let any spill, but it was too late. They were already silently streaming down your cheeks.

 As you started backing away from him, not daring to turn around in fear he would jab his knife in your back, it didn’t hit you until you felt the heel of your shoe step back into nothingness: this was the edge of the roof. You had gone your limit, and now there was truly nowhere to run. A sharp pain poked at your stomach, and you let out a whimper as you looked down to see the tip of the blade pointed at you. The man was now so close, your chests were almost touching, which made you shudder with disgust. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for him to make the final move of killing you. But that never happened. 

 “Now, why don’t we stop playing games,” he said, jabbing the knife against your skin a bit more, “And let’s start having some fun.” His disgustingly grimy hands skimmed the waistband of your jeans, tugging them slightly and you recoiled as much as you could. As he began unbottoning your pants, thoughts raced your mind so fast, it was hard to keep track of them. 

 It was the way he said it that made you have a feeling what he was about to do to you would be far worse than death. So cold and unforgiving. He was looking for another way to show that he had more power than you, more control. He wanted you to be scared and backed into a corner, that’s just the way his sick, twisted mind worked. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of this: you refused to.

 “Fuck you.” You said, surprising even yourself with the way you managed to snap out those two words. It was so hatred-filled that if words could kill people, this man would be dead and gone. You spit in his face just to have one last accomplishment before you did it.

 Before you let yourself fall back.


 All you remember about falling was screaming. Screaming so loud you felt like you might rip your vocal cords in half. But you weren’t the only one screaming, the wind was too. It was whipping past your ears, blowing your hair in all different directions as you free-fell at a killer speed. This was it. You were going to die. You thought of your mom and dad, and your heart shattered in half as you realized they may think you had just wanted to commit suicide. If only they knew.

 Just as you began squeezing your eyes shut, bracing for the impact, you felt an object ram into you from the side. You let out a gasp of air as the force of whatever hit you knocked the wind out of you. As silly as it sounded, you thought at first it may have been a bird that hit you, but when your eyes snapped open you knew it wasn’t any kind of animal that ran into you. It was a human. More specifically, it was Spider-Man. He saved you.

 Noticing you were looking up at him, you felt his arm around your waist give you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He said, his voice so quietly comforting, you feel your heart beat steady to a normal pace soon after his words. Maybe it was just your imagination, or maybe you had misheard him due to the whistling of the wind as he webbed between buildings, but you could’ve sworn he added in, “I’ve always got you, [Y/N].” 


A/N: Hey guys! So when I had originally thought of this idea, I wasn’t going to make it so long, but I usually tend to draw out stories so there will be a Part 2 to this. (If everyone wants one I don’t know maybe no one will end up reading this just let me know if you’re even interested in a part 2) I was supposed to cram it all into one fic, but I thought that may have been a bit long. Also, I’m very, very sorry there was barely any Peter in this but I promise part 2 will have a ton more of my baby, and it’ll be super fluffy so just you wait!

vimeo

(( OOC: Finally threw this crack together. *slides it across the table in a brown paper bag* )) 

@ohtheclevernessofme1972

Hello! I didn’t actually expect that many people to request this and I was going to make this anyways soooo… Let’s get to it!

 Before we get started to actually making the spread, you first need to answer the following:

  • Do I want to follow a theme?
  • If so, what theme do I want? 
  • What are the things that motivate me?
  • Are there certain people that motivate me?
  • Do I want to plan my weekends? 

 My weekly spread isn’t the same every week and I change some things very often because I feel like it’s necessary to do so but I’m not one to change my over all color scheme very often although there are some studygrams who change theirs every week. It’s hard to keep on changing your theme if you are a studyblr so I suggest to stick to one for a long time. It’s not necessary to have one but it makes it more neat and pleasing in the eyes and makes it look more organized. I don’t know what they’re originally called, but I call them ‘space-fillers’ mainly because they fill up space (duh). To sum it up, these are basically little things you can add to your bujo to make it more handy and useful. (* - my favorites) Some examples are: 

  • Weekly Playlist*
  • Sleep Tracker
  • Water Count
  • Thought of The Day (TOTD)*
  • Quote of The Day (QOTD)
  • Daily Mood
  • Weekly Expenses 
  • What I Eat in a Day* 

 I want to make this clear, because I live in the Philippines, I don’t really have access to expensive stationeries that you could always see on tumblr and instagram such as Tombows, Muji pens, Artline Stix, and Mildliners. I know that there are some MUJI branches in Manila but it would mean climbing Mt. Everest, crossing the Han River, and spending your life savings. Not worth it (in my opinion because I’m like 14 who basically depends on her parents). So, learn to use what you have and supplies are just supplies. Expensive stationery don’t equal to immediately having beautiful lettering. I just use the Faber Castel ones but depending on where you live, these might not be available for you. I use it because it’s cheaper and does the job. Although the tips do fray overtime, you’re still getting more than what you paid for. So definitely a must-try.

 Before we start. Checklist (* - optional) 

  • Bujo
  • Markers 
  • Glue 
  • Ballpen 
  • Ruler 
  • Highlighter* 
  • Washi Tape*
  • Colored Paper*
  • Photos* 
  • Music 

(I didn’t list any specific brands because you can always substitute supplies)

 Okay and now we can finally start! 

Keep reading

So once in tenth grade World History, we were split into groups and each group was given an infamous world leader. My group got Ivan the Terrible. The assignment was to research this leader and then create a human statue that depicted something important about the person. In case you didn’t gather from the name, Ivan killed…a lot. So our group came back the next day and we had one person pose with a fake sword like he was about to kill someone. Everybody else pretended to be in various stages of dying. When we came up with the monument we realized that it was kind of lame, so I told my group not to worry about it, that I would make it awesome.
So everybody else gets into position and then I stroll up with a brown paper bag. I pull out a sheet, spread it out and lay down on it. I then pull out an entire 30 ounce bottle of fake blood and dump the full bottle on top of my head.
After we were judged I ran out to get cleaned up before the lecture. The issue was that I was now covered and dripping blood from everywhere. I cannot clean my hands enough to get a grip on a bathroom door. So I run up to one of my other teacher’s classrooms that has a sink in it and kick the door a few times. One of my friends opened the door and almost screamed. I said hi, walked to the sink, washed my hands, and exited the classroom.
The teacher did not receive an explanation until 3 years later.

Keep Your Comments To Yourself (Star Lord Reader Insert)

#FINISHEDTHISBITCHFINALLYYAS

Warnings: ya’ll already know by now that this is gon’ be the smuttiest shit you ever laid eyes on like hyfr if my mother saw this she’d probably never be able to look me in the ocular sockets again 

Words: 3808 

****

Peter refused to stop. The vulgar comments, the improper touching, the suggestive looks, it was driving you completely insane.

The first time it happened, he was co-piloting in the cockpit with Rocket. You strolled in, asking the raccoon if you were almost to your next destination. Jesus, you were in need of some fresh air, for the ship itself felt too confining. Rocket reassured you that you’d all arrive soon, however, it came out more like, “Quit your whining, we’ll get there when we get there.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel and went to exit. All you wanted was to get away from this cramped vessel, was that too much to ask?

“Hey, stay and sit for a while,” Peter called, stopping you in your tracks. You swiveled around to see his usual shit-eating grin. “I got a special seat for you, right here,” he said, patting his thighs. It totally caught you off guard, for this was the first time he’d ever said anything like this to you. You’d caught him looking at you a couple of times, but he never treated you like the girls he courted at bars. And everyone knew what happened to them.

Having no clue how to react, you just turned and continued on your way, knowing he saw your face flush. You heard him laughing to himself as you made you rapid escape.

But that was only the beginning.

The next day, you had spent about 15 minutes trying to reach a book that had fallen behind your bunk. You were bent over the edge, trying to reach it as best you could. However, your arms were too short and you tried stretching, arching you back to elongate as best you could. The sleek pages just barely brushed against your fingertips and you almost had it until a voice made you nearly jump out of your skin.

“I gotta say, (Y/N), I really like you in this position,” it said, followed by a light smack to your ass. It was Peter. You scoffed at how ridiculous he was and stood up, getting right in his face.

“If you touch me like that again, I will not hesitate to cut off your hands and shove them

up your ass,” you threatened, anger heavy in your tone. His eyes widened for a split second, then he smirked at you.

“Anyone ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad?” he asked, leaning into you.

“Couldn’t you be doing something better than running your mouth?”

“Well, there’s a lot of other things I could be doing with my mouth…”

“Ugh, God,” you groaned, disgusted, pushing past him.

A little while later, you were sitting in front of the monitor reading some statistics when something was shoved in your face, blocking your view. Sitting back a little, you recognized it as the exact book you’d dropped behind your bed. Fingers were attached to the spine and your eyes trailed up the arm and saw Peter looking at you with a sly grin as if he’d just done you the biggest favor in the world.

“Thank you,” you muttered. Reaching for the book, he jerked it back close to him. You

got out of chair and went for it again. This time he held it high above your head, his arms longer than yours, which is probably how he got the book in the first place. “Peter, c’mon!”

“Ah ah ah,” he tsked. “You gotta do something for me first.” He tapped his index finger against his lips and puckered them slightly, indicating that he wanted a kiss. You rolled your eyes, but grabbed his leather jacket lapels and tugged him down to your slightly shorter level. You stared deep into his oceanic eyes. The closer you pulled him, and they fluttered closed and the more his body relaxed. Your lips barely brushed against his and he tried moving closer to break the barrier you were putting up, his arms dropping at his sides. That’s when you stole the book out of his grasp and backed away before your lips could actually make full contact. 

“Thanks again,” you hollered and walked out of the room leaving Quill dumbstruck.

The next few days were filled with petty remarks. Every little thing you did, Peter had something to say.

“Bet you taste just as sweet,” he’d say as you popped a piece of candy in your mouth, almost choking.

“I could give you a full-body massage, if you’d like,” he offered smugly as you rubbed your shoulders painfully after a mission.

“Your ass looks awesome today,” he muttered in your ear, giving your bottom a slight pinch at the same time.

“You know, if you really want to have some fraction of a chance with me, you might wanna try better compliments.” He nodded and cleared his throat, stepping closer to you.

“Your ass is looking particularly shapely on this fine evening. Better?” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

Another day passed, however, without innuendos. Not a peep from Quill and you thought maybe, just maybe, you could relax. But he wasn’t done with you yet.

“I’m taking a shower,” you’d said nonchalantly, already making your way to the bathroom. Literally no one else thought anything of it, but the moment the words reached his ears, he snickered and sauntered over to you. He cut in between you and the bathroom door, leaning on the frame and consequently blocking your access.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yes, I actually do,” you replied intently. Once you actually got past him, Quill swiftly corned you against the bathroom wall and pressed himself right up on you. His arms were on either side of you, restricting any form of flee. Then, he inclined to whisper in your ear. You couldn’t deny that your body was getting a little warm as you felt his equally temperatured breath on your, suddenly very sensitive neck.

“C’mon, baby, what’s it gonna take for you to sit on my face?”

“Get out,” you tried saying sternly, but your own voice betrayed you and faltered. Your heart was beating fast and your breath had caught in your throat.

“Oh c’mon, you want me. I know you do. Just think about it; you in my lap, riding me for hours.” You stayed silent, the image actually forming in your mind. Heavy moans engulfing the two of you, your bodies melted into an intense embrace, his strong arms holding you as he’s hitting all the right places. You had to admit, it was desirable.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? You’re awfully quiet now,” he began. His sultry tone made heat pool between your legs, slowing dissolving under his dominant demeanor. “I bet I can change that. Bet I can make you scream.” You instinctively licked your lips, your mouth becoming very dry. The area between him and the wall was getting smaller as you felt his lips barely graze against your earlobe, the contact pulling you out from under his spell.

“I said get out!” you shouted this time, regaining your voice. Feeling him smile against

your skin, Peter backed away and leisurely strolled out, knowing he’d gotten to you. The moment the door was closed behind him, you let out and sigh of relief and thanked God that you’d made it out of that one alive.

Another time, you’d just gotten back from a supply run with Drax and were carrying about 3 heavy, paper brown bags in each arm. While he undertook the weight of the hefty cargo with ease, your arms were sore and worn leading you to accidentally drop them. Food and toiletries scattered across the hard floor in all directions. You groaned, but kneeled down anyways and began retrieving the provisions.

“Fuck me,” you cursed yourself.

“I’d love to,” a voice claimed from above. Looking up, your face was at Peter’s crotch exact crotch level and you felt your face heat up. He raised his eyebrows suggestively and, for your benefit, you focused back on cleaning up your mess.

“Shut up.” He kneeled down and looked in your eyes, giving you that cocky grin that let you know he had more to say.

“Make me. I’d sure as hell enjoy it.” You tried to ignore him and finish picking up the items, but he was being childish and only knocked them out of your hands. Your limit was almost near.

“Quill, if you don’t stop, you’re really going to regret it,” you said in a warning tone. He laughed, only fueling your anger more.

“What are you gonna do? Spank me?” he tested. Your eyes shot daggers at him for making such an indecent implication. Crawling across the floor to get the other stuff, you ignored him as best you could. “Or,” he paused, feeling his wandering eyes bore into your ass, “would you rather me spank you?”

“I would rather you leave me alone,” you mimicked his tone. Waiting for another snide response, you whipped your head around and saw Peter was nowhere in sight. Shaking your head, you put the last of the items back into their bags and went to your bunk only to find him lying on your bed. It took about 20 minutes and hundreds of threats for him to leave.

It wasn’t that you found Quill unattractive, quite the opposite really. Of course you thought about him in a sexual way, who wouldn’t? He was damn fine. But he was your friend, that’s it. You prided yourself on not “succumbing to his pelvic sorcery”, as Gamora would say, no matter how hard it was. You’d rather fall down a flight of stairs than be part of his collection of one-night mistresses. Still, Peter seemed hell bent on making this difficult for you and it was gradually becoming so.

Two nights later, you all gathered around for an unusual family-like dinner and he, as expected, scooted his chair a little too closely to you. Rolling your eyes for what seemed like the millionth time, you continued on listening to Rocket and Drax debate fiercely on which knife was better for murdering people. Not the loveliest conversation to have while eating a meal, but you get used to discussions like this when you live with people like this 24/7. Although, your ears automatically drowned out everything else when something warm landed high on your upper thigh.

You glanced down to see none other than Quill’s hand locked on your leg, his thumb rubbing tiny circles in your leg. Trying to pull away, his hand actually kept you in place. His four other fingers dipped further between your thighs and you squeezed them together as to tell him to stop. He let his hand rest there for a little bit and you relaxed a little, for at least he was done for now.

“To be honest, I think a steel blade would- oh!” you gasped, but quickly disguised it with a cough. Peter’s hand had now reached your core and you felt the heat of it through your pants. He began massaging slowly, adding a small amount of pressure to your lower stomach. You cleared your throat and thought about speaking once more, but you knew only provocative noises would escape and kept your mouth shut. He pressed a little harder and caused you to hum, keeping his movements to a minimum so no one would notice him. By the way, how was no one seeing this?!

“Are you feeling alright? Your face is quite pink,” Drax commented, completely oblivious to what was really going on. Peter smirked and looked at you.

“Yeah, (Y/N), are you okay?” he asked innocently, obviously trying to hide a smile. You scowled at him, boiling over with rage.

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel well,” you gritted through your teeth. Everyone else just shrugged and continued on with the conversation without you. Digging your nails into his forearm, he winced a little but kept his dirty paw in place. You just prayed everyone would finish eating soon so you could leave without making an awkward exit. That’s when Peter sneakily popped open the button of your pants. You looked at him, begging him with your eyes to stop to which he just ignored your pleas and placed his hand back on your thigh.  Inhaling slowly, you kept as calm as you could for the sake of not embarrassing yourself in front of the others. However, you stopped caring when he tried slipping his hand down your pants. His fingertips made it right under the waistband of your underwear when you pulled down your shirt and shot out of your seat. Everyone was caught off guard at your rapid actions.

“I feel sick, I’m gonna go lie down,” you announced, your voice a lot louder than you anticipated. You didn’t look at Peter’s face before you left, but you knew he was grinning to himself.

While they finished dinner, you decided to take a shower. Luckily, you made it back to your bunk without any sight of Quill. You tried reading your book once more but your moment of peace was quickly disturbed by a presence once more. Assuming it was him, you instantly snapped.

“WHAT?!” It was actually Rocket, holding his hands up in defense as if you were holding a gun to his face. “Sorry, I thought you were Quill.”

“Yeah,” he said hesitantly, “anyways, we’re going out. Do you wanna come or are you still feeling sick?” They way he said ‘sick’ implied that he didn’t believe it for a second.

“I’m gonna stay back, but thanks.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed knowingly. A little while later, Peter knocked on the frame of your door.

“I came to check on you,” he said casually. You ignored him, still mad at him for the whole dinner fiasco. “Seemed a little flustered back there, (Y/N).”

“Leave me alone,” you ordered, getting up and striding for the door. He trapped you again, pushing you against the wall before you could even make it to the actual door itself. Each of his palms were on the other side of your shoulders and he was a little too close to you, invading your personal space once again. You crossed your arms and looked at anywhere other than his eyes. You knew you’d get out of this, some way or another, so might as well just let him play his little game.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you absolutely, positively do not want this,” he demanded. While you were able to follow the first set of directions, the words wouldn’t leave your mouth as if they were physically stuck in the back of your throat. God, you couldn’t deny that deep down you did get some form of pleasure from the looks he gave you and the dirty comments that rolled so easily off his tongue. His tongue. Dear Lord, this wasn’t going to end well. “I’m waiting…”

You still didn’t say anything and that’s when the corner of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. Peter chuckled darkly and you turned your head away from him, mortified with yourself. In reply, however, you felt his lips on your neck. An unexpected moan escaped your lips and he used his knee to open your legs a little. His teeth sunk into your neck and you clasped your arms around him. It hurt for a quick moment before he ran his tongue over the bite, soothing the pain. Quill’s hand moved to your waist, rubbing tiny circles with his finger into your hipbone. He kissed all the way down you jaw and cheek to your mouth to pull you into a searing kiss. It completely took your breath away and only added to the dampness between your legs. He pulled away and looked you in the eyes.

“I need to hear you say you want this,” he said, his voice in a much lighter tone than before. Even the lust in his eyes were replaced with something softer. And then it hit you; no matter how much of a pig he was, he still cared.

“Peter, I want this.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to feel like-”

“You talk way too much for your own good,” you silenced him. There was a sudden grab to your ass, causing you to gasp. Peter took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. It entangled with your own in a dance for dominance to which he rapidly took the lead.

Undoing your pants for the second time tonight, Peter’s hand glided into your soaked panties. He laughed to himself when he felt how turned on you were. He ran his fingers back and forth against your slick folds then massage your clit. The sensation made your knees weak and your mind clouded. You broke the kiss, throwing your head back against the wall. It was just the kind of friction you were desperate for.

“My my my, (Y/N), who are you so wet for?” Peter asked purely. You moaned at the sound of his voice and he suddenly stopped, but kept his hand in place. “I asked you a question.”

“You,” you whimpered softly, your eyes screwing shut.

“Mmm, that’s right.” He removed his hand and you whimpered at the loss of contact, but he made up for it with another kiss. Peter had the upper hand in this situation and was now directing you away from the wall and to your bed. During your wobbly dance back to the bed, both of your shirts were lazily tossed onto the floor. You reveled in his amazing physique as he cupped your breasts.

He was the first to make it to the bed and lied down, breaking away from you for a split second only to quickly pull you on top of him. The two of you groaned simultaneously as you sat on his stiff groin. You leaned down against his firm torso and kissed his neck, dishing out the same treatment you received earlier. Sucking on the skin right where his pulse was, he sighed. You smiled against him and repeated the action, getting the same reaction from before. One of his hands was resting on your bottom as the other one trailed up the curve of your back to snap your bra open. The garment was tossed onto the messy pile on the floor and he flipped you position so that now you felt the light pressure of the mattress against your back.

Peter laid kisses and bites down your body, stopping momentarily to ravage your breasts pleasantly, and eventually ripped your pants off for good. His lips traced circles on your hip bone that caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin.Then he forcibly spread your legs, fingers digging into your thighs hungrily. Your heart rate picked up in anticipation for what was about to happen. He nipped and licked at your inner thighs, watching your face though his dark and lustful eyes. He sucked on the tender skin, leaving dark marks in his wake. You exhaled content sighs yet inhaled sharply when he flicked his tongue against your wetness a single time. It was just enough to make you moan, but not enough to feed your insatiable hunger.

“Tell me how bad you want me to eat your pussy,” he ordered.

“God, Peter, I want you to eat my pussy so badly right now,” you practically begged, “Please.”

He chuckled darkly and went to work. He licked patterns and sucked on just the right areas. His tongue as perfect against your aching core and he had to hold your hips down roughly to keep your from wiggling too much. You tugged at his hair, your fingers intertwined with his short locks. When he focused on your clit, your back arched off the sheets. He pumped in two fingers and it was too much pressure to handle at once. The familiar tightening of your lower stomach let you know you were almost there.

“Peter, I’m gonna-“

“Nope, not yet.” He detached himself from you completely and crawled up your body to lay wet, sloppy kisses on your collarbone and neck. You had one hand still tangled in his hair and the other latched onto his shoulder.

“You’re horrible,” you panted, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“You love me,” he said between kisses along your jaw. You grinned and laughed a little as his facial hair tickled against your skin.

Peter got up and sat on his knees, undoing his pants. You watched carefully, biting your lips as his fingers did the intricate work. Soon, his pants and underwear were gone and you stared at his package, desperately hungry for his thick cock.

Eagerly, you spread your legs for him and ignored his arrogant smirk. Quill kissed your knee as he moved up your body, sliding himself into your innermost parts. You let out a soft cry and a more animistic rumble erupted from his chest.

His thrust were agonizingly slow at first, forcing you to beg him to fuck you.

“You want me to fuck you like this?” his voice as pure as a little boy in Sunday School. His hips moved even slower than before and you couldn’t take it.

“No,” you whined breathily. “Fuck me fast and fuck me hard.”

Then he slammed into and you gasped at the wonderful roughness. Over and over again, until that coil within you twisted tighter and tighter, that special spot being repeatedly hit with each stroke.

“I wanna hear you say my name,” Peter growled into the crook of your neck. You did so, moaning his name loud  enough for it to echo through the ship as you came.

It was dizzying, your mind almost disconnecting from your body for a moment. A warmth flooded through your veins as he came too, grunting a cuss through his teeth.

Peter landed on the bed next to you, chest rising and falling slowly. Your legs felt like jelly and your ran your fingers through your hair, knowing it was a mess. After a minute or so of quietness, you felt your body being pulled.

“Get over here,” Quill demanded playfully, moving you into the encasing of his arms.

“Who knew ladies’ man, Peter Quill, was a ‘cuddler’? I would’ve pegged you more of a hit-and-run kind of guy,” you teased, letting your own arm rest on his chest.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper whilst brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. “Lucky for you, I only cuddle the ones I like.”

Give Me...

… Supercorp Domesticity

… Lena sneaking vegetables onto Kara’s plate every time Kara flies off to rescue someone or stop some robbery

… Kara noticing every time she gets back and looking over at Lena who, in turn, just looks back all innocently and asks how Kara’s latest outing as Supergirl went

… Kara pointing out that her enhanced metabolism means she needs to consume a lot of calories and that a thousand calories of french fries is a lot easier to eat than a thousand calories of broccoli as she puts the ‘healthy’ food back on Lena’s plate

… Lena pointing out that she’s personally seen Kara fit no less than 5 potstickers into her mouth at one time so a few pieces of broccoli shouldn’t present a challenge to  either Kara or Supergirl as she puts the broccoli back onto Kara’s plate

… Kara trying to think of a counter counter argument only to sigh before eating the broccoli


… Kara complaining about Lena never cleaning hair out of the shower drain

… Lena asking how Kara knows its hers

… Kara pointing out that she’s blonde and this hair is not and, oh yeah, it takes a frick’n laser beam to get hair off her head unlike Lena. 

… Kara going into the shower the next morning to find Lena’s installed a laser based auto drain cleaner.


… Kara showing up to the DEO with a brown paper bag of  lunch/snacks Lena made for her complete little hearts and stars and the Kryptonian symbols for ‘good luck’ ‘love you’ and ‘be safe’ (all of which Kara taught her) drawn around Kara’s name on the front and a note inside warning Alex/Winn not to steal anything from the bag.


… Lena calling Kara to let her know she’ll be late getting home because of some work thing and Kara landing on her balcony 2 minutes later with a picnic basket and a bottle of wine

… And Lena thanking Kara for the gesture but she really doesn’t have time to-

… And Kara interrupts her with ‘Broccoli’ and Lena just sighs (and smiles) and joins Kara on the couch for dinner.


… Lena slowly taking over Kara’s half of the closet/clothes rack

… And Kara pointing this out.

… And Lena pointing out that if they’d moved into her apartment, they’d both had all the room either of them would need

… And Kara asking if Lena’s asking her to move in with her

… And Lena saying yes.

… And Kara saying yes.

… And then there’s a beat and then Lena starts taking things out of the closet/off the rack and when Kara asks what she’s doing, Lena replies ‘Packing’

… And Kara, after a beat, flies off to get some boxes and later that night she gets a text from Alex saying “What the hell happened to your apartment?” and Kara replies ‘Um, yeah, about that…

… And Kara’s cleaning up after the housewarming party the next night (the first Lena’s had in her apartment) and Lena tells her that cleaning up can wait. Besides, she has something more important for Kara to do

… And Kara asks “What?”

… And Lena replies “officially break in our bed”

… Supercorp domesticity 


*update: I gave it to myself 

Get You

A/N: SURPRISE I’M TRASH!! I told y’all I was gonna write a one-shot to avoid my finals, and that is exactly what I’m doing. Anywho this was gonna be filthy smut but then I started writing about how sweet Bucky is and this turned into soft, slow-burn, tender sex and I. Am. Not. Mad. I needed this tbh. Hope y’all enjoy <3 This was inspired by “Get You” by Daniel Caesar (IT’S A GOOD ASS SONG Y’ALL SHOULD LISTEN TO IT) Also it is 4:45 AM and I need to go to bed.

Summary: Bucky visits you after a long day at work and provides you with some much-needed comfort in the form of coffee, cheese danishes, and office sex.

Warnings: Mention of irregular eating habits, Stress, Smut/NSFW content, Slow burn sex, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Unprotected sex (to be fair this time they’re married and are probably gonna have kids at any moment), Cute ass fluffy smut honestly

Word Count: 2,607

Originally posted by mybuckygoes

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