she is my little angel

anonymous asked:

Dear Sam, pray tell your views on lying please. My children are too young to understand Santa yet and my wife is adamant about doing Santa when they are older. Not the story of Saint Nick. Simple modern parents play Santa and lie to the kids in the name of “fun". It goes against my beliefs however. Does Siddhartha teach against telling falsehoods? I know Jesus of Nazareth did,

Children until about the age of seven live in a magical world. They cannot yet distinguish fact from fiction. So, Ariel and mermaids are real, Winne the Pooh actually lives in 100 Acre Wood and Santa is a kindly old grandpa who loves kids and brings presents to good little boys and girls. In my view, there are “lies" and then there are “stories". 

My wife and I did the Santa thing and it gave my little angel no end of joy. When she turned seven she came to me and asked me if he was real. At this point, I felt obligated to tell her. I said that Santa was the spirit of love and that little kids couldn’t understand that and so we played make believe. She thought, a little disappointed and then smiled and accepted it. After all, kids are all about make-believe at that age.

Both the Buddha and Jesus teach us to speak truthfully. In the Bible “bear false witness" really is not a prohibition against all false speech but against perjury. The Buddha teaches right speech but that also is not a blanket prohibition against untruth. 

We are first bound by the rule of compassion and there are times when it is more compassionate to tell an untruth than to tell the harsher truth. So, you must carefully consider the effect telling or not telling your children the story of Santa will have on them.

 It might make them feel left out and deprived of some of the joys of Christmas. It might cause problems with other kids at school. It is up to you and your wife but you should consider all of the aspects carefully before you decide.

Adriana Lima having the last make-up check before walking on the I Put A Spell On You segment, vsfs 2011.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Some Things Change. (Theo Raeken Imagine)

This is part two of Why Do You Keep Apologizing!

Okay, this is really long… I’m so sorry!

Requests are Open! (Just bear with me)

I hope you enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day!

Originally posted by unconditionalloveandunicornspawn

Originally posted by filia-de-saturna

Habits change. 

It was the small things you noticed about Theo. His constant day dreaming and fear stricken expression he wore every time he was brought out of his day dream. His constant bickering with Scott and Stiles in the hallways and in classes. His negativity was not a result of his overly sarcastic personality, but because of the darkness in his heart.

But nevertheless, Theo did find himself attached to you. Whether he’d agree to it or not. He was protective. He did not want the one good thing in his life to be taken away, too. He’d constantly look for you whenever you two were separated.

In History, the one class he had with Scott and Stiles but not with you, he and Scott smelt the smoke before the fire alarms even went off. He immediately shot up from his chair, knowing that the smoke burned your lungs almost as bad as cursing molted your wings, and ran to the door, but got called back by the teacher. “You have to stay with the class, Mr. Raeken.” Theo huffed and rolled his shoulders back. 

As the class evacuated, he attempted to catch your scent but couldn’t with the smoke polluting the air. Theo grabbed Scott’s shoulder, making the alpha and his best friend turn to glare at the chimera. “What, Theo?” Scott snapped. 

“Look, I don’t care if I hate you or if you hate me. But (Y/N). She… she can’t breath in the smoke. I can’t catch her scent. Please, Scott.” Theo practically begged. Although Stiles had said hell to the no, Scott agreed not wanting an innocent life to be lost.

The two snuck back into the school and attempted to search for you. Eventually they found you in the cafeteria, the source of the fire, he figured that you were helping the lunch ladies evacuate, forgetting that you would suffocate in the smoke. “God, you’re such an angel… It’s literally going to kill you, (Y/N).” Theo whispered as he scooped up your small body and brought you outside.

As he passed the two outside, he nodded and muttered a “thank you.” He figured that you, being supernatural, might not want to be sent to the hospital so instead he kept you hidden in his truck until you regained consciousness. He watched as you slept, your head slumped to the side, resting on the window. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

And that’s when he knew that there was a slight possibility that he might actually have fallen for an angel. 

People change. 

You have been driving on a long road to get to the this stop, but it was worth it. You found it hard to show Theo the “right path” for he was so consumed by the darkness of his past. But it wasn’t impossible to get him to face the right direction, towards the light.

“If you’re an angel, you’re going to help that kid if I trip him, right?” Theo pondered, nodding over to Mason and Corey, who were both walking your way.

You tilted your head and began to protest, “please, don’t-” but it was too late, Theo stuck his leg out, tripping Mason.

You sprung into action, reaching out and getting a grip on the teen before he could completely fall on the floor. “Thanks.” He muttered, dusting himself off before taking Mason’s hand and walking off.

“That was graceful.” Theo complimented, a smirk forming on his face.

“And that was rude. You should apologize.” You said, crossing your arms. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, wordlessly fighting for dominance. You ultimately losing to his stubbornness.

But as weeks flew by, Theo showed less aggression and plain out rudeness.

The two of you were leaned up against the lockers. His words were no longer snarky and challenging. Instead he spoke as though the two of you have been friends for ages.

His arms were crossed as his left shoulder leaned into his locker, his eyebrows raising at something you said about your older sister loving a human.

“Is it bad for an angel to love a non-angel?” He inquired, genuinely curious, wanting to know if his bubbling feelings could ever be reciprocated.

You shrugged, feeling your wings rub against your denim jacket. “It’s not bad, exactly. More like frowned upon. We’d have to give up our wings to be with them. It’s seen as turning your back against your family and God.”

“Good thing I’m an atheist.” Theo joked. His foot was slightly out, causing Liam, who was rushing past to meet with Hayden, to trip over. But Theo acted quickly, reaching over and balancing the beta. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean it. Honest.” You smiled at his improvement. Maybe you were rubbing off on him after all.

Theo’s fingers interlocked with yours, tugging you towards your next period. You knew it was a friendly gesture but you couldn’t help the heat rising to your face. “C’mon, (Y/N). Angels don’t skip class.” And then you felt your heart beat faster and the blush on your cheeks intensifying 

Feelings change. 

“My sister gave up her wings.” You informed Theo. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. You shared that your sister fell in love with a human but he never knew just how extreme she’d got be with him. 

He carried your books as the two of you walked side by side. To those passing by, you two looked more like a couple than an angel and her ward. “Would you ever do it?” He asked. You glanced over to him. “Give up your wings?” 

You shook your head. “Never. I love being an angel.” 

“Even if you truly loved a non-angel?” He questioned, his brows furrowing. 

“Angels aren’t selfish. We don’t give up our wings because of our own selfish interests. We shouldn’t want both.” You explained. 

“It’s okay to want something for yourself.” He muttered, feeling his heart break a bit as he shoved your books into your hands and walked off. You being left shaken and confused.

But he didn’t know that in your mind, you’ve considered it. You’ve considered the possibility of your wings leaving you, unburdening you. You’ve considered being with Theo, not because you have to but because you’d love to. In the months you’ve spent with each other, you knew one thing for certain. You love Theo Raeken.

You confided in your mother about your conflicted feelings. “I apologize if I disappoint you, mother. I just… I love him… I really do. And I know (Y/S/N) has disappointed you enough, but-”

“Beacon Hills has really taught my girls to bloom. You both found love here. I’d hate for our family and our values to get in the way of that. But (Y/N), love comes with a price. I think you know that. But when that love is as true as can be, a part of your past life as an angel shall remain with you.“ She smiled. You nodded. “So be free my little angel. Fly to where your heart leads you.” 

And that’s exactly what you did. 

“Theo!” You called out, knowing that he’d be in a clearing, past the bridge where they found his sister. You flied past the trees but not too high where you’d get caught. You enjoyed your last flight as an angel, but something told you it wasn’t your last. 

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, his guard up high like it once was. 

“I love you.” You confessed. “I love you, Theo Raeken.” 

“Finally…” Theo muttered as he pulled you close and into a kiss. “I love you, too…”

Some Things Change.” You sighed. “And whether it’s good or bad, I’ll accept change if it means I can be with you.” 

And then you felt your wings sink into your skin. It wasn’t painful, though it was a weird sensation. Your wings had engraved themselves as tattoos of angel wings, covering your shoulder blades and all of your back. You felt as if it wasn’t the last time you’d see those wings because although they were physically gone, you knew you would soar in the sky once more. You knew you didn’t completely give up being an angel just yet.

Originally posted by marvel-pandaz

(Oh and this is what I was attempting to describe but they aren’t the same wings.)

Killer Is A Softie

[August 2006]

“Nah man. I can’t go to the party this weekend,” I groaned as we sat at my kitchen table.  Jax, Tig and Chibs all looked at me. They all shook their heads and sighed. Chibs was the first to speak up.

“I think he has a soft spot for his little girl,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer before him.

“Awe, killer is a softie,” Tig laughed, his foot hitting the floor several times.

Keep reading

Turning Me On


Request: Hi! Is it possible for you to write one where you and Shawn are dating and y/n is a Victoria’s Secret angel and Shawn goes to the show to support her and at the afterparty they mingle with everyone and he reveals to her how turned on he is about her performance and tells her everything he wants to do to her?

Word Count: 1,744

Turning Me On

“Shawn Mendes, welcome to the last Victoria’s Secret show this year” the interviewer said, sending me a plain smile.

“Thank you”

“Are you excited for this?”

“I am, really. I’ve never been to one before” I said, sending him another false but friendly smile.

Keep reading


I just???? Love her so much?? I’m gonna cry she’s my sweet baby angel and I must protect her. I would die for this cat. Her name is Midnight and she means everything to me. I’m gonna cry I love her

//I love her too pls give her a kiss for me??
the punk!tracer au

*sings* happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, lexa is dead and i am crying, happy birthday to me; suggested by an anon! tw for guns so be careful!

  • they meet in unusual circumstances
  • amelie’s father is in town for a business meeting
  • he glances at her as he walks out the door that evening, detours for a moment to step into her space and pretend to kiss her cheek- the picture of familial devotion. a paparazzi coos, snaps a picture.
  • ‘no matter what, don’t go into whitechapel,’ he hisses, breath heavy and wet in her ear. ‘i don’t need the bad press.’
  • amelie fakes a brilliant smile. ‘yes, sir.’
  • he ‘hmphs’ at her, then pats her head and walks out, trailed by his guards and a group of people in suits asking questions.
  • amelie reaches for her phone and looks up the directions to whitechapel.
  • she drives there, through the dark grey stones, ominous and looming and ugly and half-destroyed. she hates england, she decides.
  • amelie parks in front of a seedy club front and climbs out, looking around. a man eyes her from across the street, and she shoots back a condescending glare.
  • ‘ooh, love. makin’ eyes like that ain’t gonna get ya nowhere. not here, at least.’
  • amelie startles, turns to see an unfamiliar girl leaning up against the doors of her car. she does a double take.
  • the girl is all spikes and vibrantly pink hair and union jacks and, as amelie watches, she runs a finger down the impeccable paint job on the maybach.
  • ‘twin turbo v12,’ she says appreciatively. ‘nice.’
  • amelie swats her hand away, and the girl laughs, hopping back and studying her closely.
  • ‘little too nice for this part of town, though. maybe out in surrey. but not here.’ she leans in. ‘my advice, love? ‘less you want your car pinched, go on and out.’
  • amelie scoffs. ‘please. as if.’
  • the girl shrugs, fiddles with her goggles. ‘well, that’s your choice. y’know, my granny always said that carelessness gets you the hippo. then and again, the old bat was mental, so-’
  • she’s cut off abruptly by a bang! amelie jumps, hissing when she slams her hand into the window.
  • ‘shite,’ the girl says darkly, and then she produces a gun out of nowhere and shoves amelie back.
  • ‘get in the car,’ she says, not looking over. ‘get in the car and go.’
  • her expression is changed from its previous playfulness- amelie can see this girl with blood on her hands, standing in near-darkness. she fumbles for her keys, unlocks the car with a click, and just as she’s stepping over and bending to slide inside, a man emerges from the alleyway, whistling, the subtle bulge of a gun inside his jacket.
  • ‘hey,’ the girl says, demeanour abruptly casual, and he turns, eyebrows flicking up.
  • ‘well, if it ain’t tracer. where’s the cavalry?’
  • ‘tracer’ tightens her grip on the gun, tilts it up a little further. ‘what’re ya doin’ back there, roy?’
  • ‘nothin’ much,’ roy says. his teeth are pointed when he smiles. ‘just hanging around. you got a problem?’
  • ‘i wouldn’t if i hadn’t heard a shot.’
  • ‘you wanna hear another?’
  • ‘hey. you know the rules.’
  • ‘i do.’ roy says, and then looks at the car, and amelie, frozen beside it. ‘that’s a real nice car, sweet cheeks.’
  • ‘lay off her.’
  • ‘i might have to lay on her first.’ he grins, predatory.
  • tracer’s expression shifts into something darker; the gun rises. ‘sure you wanna go there?’
  • ‘oh, honey. i’m already there.’
  • and then he pulls a gun and whirls and points it at tracer. she doesn’t even seem to move, but then there’s a blur and he’s on the ground and tracer’s foot is planted in his throat and tracer’s tossing his gun up and down.
  • ‘roy? ya good there, mate?’
  • silence. the voice sounds suspicious when it asks, ‘roy? how ya doin’?’
  • footsteps.
  • shit.’ tracer whispers, peeking around the corner. ‘aight love, move your bottles.’
  • amelie blinks at her in confusion for a moment before squaring her jaw. she is a lacroix, and she will not be ordered around. ‘no.’
  • ‘okay. then i’ll leave you to the fella with a mach, then.’
  • ‘mach?’
  • the footsteps are getting closer.
  • ‘machine gun. get in the goddamn car.’
  • ‘fine.’
  • the guy rounds the corner, blinks stupidly, looks between roy’s unconscious figure and tracer, and then howls and raises the gun.
  • ‘go!’ tracer yells, and amelie slams the accelerator.
  • the next morning is disorienting. amelie scrolls mindlessly through the endless points on her tablet, still trying to work out whether all of last night was a dream.
  • an article catches her eye; she clicks on it idly.
  • druglord killed in face-off in whitechapel with unknown shooter- the blood of three people was left on the scene, one of the man, mr. alwood, one of his guard, in critical condition from a gunshot wound, and the blood of the unknown shooter.’
  • it might be a coincidence, she thinks, and the internalised voice of her father is screaming at her no to go.
  • but because amelie lacroix has never listened to anyone, least of all her father, she does, pulling into a slot in a half-trashed car that she ‘borrows’ from the lot on fenchurch street.
  • the place is surrounded by yellow tape and blue-coated officers and distrustful eyes and amelie knows that tracer won’t be anywhere near. 
  • so she drives.
  • she finds a seedy-looking alleyway, makes inquiries with a few sources. her father is a little more than just an honest businessman.
  • tracer is hidden inside a lair; the woman guarding it mutters a few words into a com, then frowns, evidently displeased, but waves her inside.
  • she travels down path after path in the twisting halls of the evidently enormous underground. 
  • amelie finds tracer behind a sheet marked ‘307′, the familiar voice shouting obscenities.
  • amelie ducks around the sheet and sees a blonde tuft of hair and a lab coat and a lot of blood.
  • ‘stay still, lena.’
  • ‘well, i goddamn hope that- bollocks- dammit, angie, are you even trYING TO BE GENTLE-’
  • tracer- lena, apparently- stops short when she catches sight of amelie.
  • ‘what the hell- fuck- are you- angie- what are you doing here?’
  • ‘um.’ amelie says. ‘to thank you? i don’t- i’m not sure.’
  • tracer laughs, half-hysterical. ‘thank me? well, shit. wouldn’t have thought the princess would’ve summoned up the humility.’
  • amelie’s spine stiffens. ‘don’t call me that.’
  • lena yelps as the doctor plucks the last piece of- glass?- out of her stomach, and sighs, swabbing disinfectant over it and bandaging it.
  • ‘stop getting into trouble,’ she warns, and then pulls on a new pair of gloves, pausing to study amelie for a quick moment.
  • ‘if she dies, call me. or anyone. she does stupid things.’
  • ‘like save both of your lives.’ lena says, and amelie does have to admit that’s a fair point.
  • angela sighs fondly and leaves, the curtain falling back. lena huffs.
  • she’s not wearing the goggles, her face small and naked without them, her brown eyes quizzical as they study amelie’s profile.
  • ‘how’d you find this place?’
  • amelie laughs a little, humourlessly. she wishes she’d never come. ‘my father isn’t an angel.’
  • ‘hey. if it makes you feel better, neither was mine. had a nasty habit of goin’ at it with people on top of tables.’
  • amelie snorts.
  • they sit in silence for a moment before she speaks again.
  • ‘thank you. you saved my life.’
  • ‘well, no shit. do i get a prize?’
  • ‘i’ll kiss you,’ amelie fires back, and relishes in tracer’s shocked silence until she realises what she said.
  • ‘wha- pardon?’
  • ‘i- did not mean to say that.’
  • ‘well, no shit, sherlock.’ lena fires back, dissipating the awkwardness.
  • she sits there, and lena doesn’t question her presence. they bicker, and talk, and discuss the horridness of english food and traffic and lena complains about being shot.
  • the idea gets stuck in her head; kissing her. lena’s hair is soft, probably, her lips softer. amelie wonders. she went to an all-girls school; it was a common occurrence, but lena is different. they talk and they talk and they smile and amelie finds herself laughing (english humour is horrible but wonderful simultaneously) explosively, the opposite of prim and proper
  • the next time she checks her watch, it’s eleven. lena’s on painkillers now, a little drowsy, and as amelie rises to go, she grabs at her. amelie relinquishes her wrist to lena’s searching grasp, and her brown eyes blink up.
  • ‘you’re good, y’know. shitty dads can’t keep everyone down, otherwise feminists wouldn’t exist.’
  • ‘thank you,’ amelie says, and then, before she can stop herself, asks, ‘can i kiss you?’
  • lena blinks at her, then smiles drowsily. ‘sure.’
  • she’s soft in her exhaustion, and amelie is careful, and they are clumsy against each other, but lena smiles against her mouth, and that is all amelie needs.
Spring Day [1]

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Vampires, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Jimin and you were best friends since you were little kids, never leaving each other’s side, but one rainy day of spring you left him, asking him to forget about you. You were trying to protect him from yourself, but he didn’t know that. What will happen if fate got you two back together?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Jimin’s pov

“But (Y/N) they won’t stop laughing at me” I told (Y/N) as I cried on her shoulder, one of her little hands going up and down my back, while the other was playing with my black hair. “They keep saying I’m too short and chubby and they don’t want to play football with me, ever.” I sobbed trying to wipe away my tears with my hand, but she soon replaced them with her own, sending a hot shook down my spine with every movement her fingers made on my cheek.

“Hey, Chimchim, I can play football with you, if you teach me, then we will for sure kick their ass, and now for your height and your “chubbiness”, which I don’t see by the way, I think you’re perfect and cute and don’t let them tell you other-wise, ok?” Even though that was a way to calm me down, those few words made me stronger. She always cared about me and helped me through everything. She was my little angel, I loved her.

(Flash forward)

“(Y/N)! Why? Please just tell me you will talk to me, that we will see each other again, I just need to hear that” I yelled at her soaked figure, resulting from the rain. She was leaving me, she saved me and now she’s breaking me apart, after almost 12 years of friendship.

She didn’t move but I noticed she was crying even if we were meters apart. She slowly looked to the ground and after a while locking eyes with me again.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. But I am doing this for a reason. Be happy, Jimin, you deserve it, you deserve to live a beautiful life, so do you a favor and, please, don’t try to contact me or find me in any way. Forget about me Jimin. That’s the only thing I ask you.” She said not even waiting for a response as she run away from me. Once I got back to reality I started running to her.

I run for what it seemed as hours, until a loud honk stopped me as I found myself in the middle of the road in a red light.

I woke up sweeting and crying. I looked to my side and saw my alarm clocked. 3am.

Keep reading

when the shadowhunters cast is hot but you also really love their personality and its a whole mess;

matthew daddario is the kind of hot that has you shaking your head because hes such a dork and inside youre like dear god i cant fucking believe ive fallen for such a dad like hes literally chasing birds calling himself the bird king mATTHEW and yet he’s the perfect aesthetic of a hot man

Harry shum Jr. is the kind of hot that has you ripping out your hair because quite frankly no one should be allowed to dance like that and have that kind of body???! and on top of it he is a precious bean. he is so generous and his laugh is better than all of us

dom is the kind of hot that is like unbearable and youre like lord have mercy of fucking course he has two different coloured eyes and then two seconds later hes playing with a dog and singing songs and youre crying because what kind of goals

alberto is the kind of hot that you kind of stare at from afar because youre like how can someone so pure exist in a body like that what did i do to deserve this kind of pain and maybe youre sobbing a little when you watch him on tv because he is probably the embodiment of an angel i swear to god hes so nice look at him

david castro is the kind of hot where youre like kicking a wall because buddy??? did we ask?? the answer is no we did not so put on a shirt for the love of god but also please dont and keep uploading videos and never stop lauGHING because its fantastic and hes so humble why

isaiah is literally the kind of hot that makes me want to throw myself into a river like he smiles and youre like oh look lmao its the fucking sun parting the clouds what the fCUK and his eyes are so kind just like his soul and youre like dying because all you want is a peaceful life

emeraude toubia is the kind of hot that makes me want to tear out my eyeballs because listen first off she is An Actual Goddess and she laughs like puppies (is that a thing) and she is so grateful for her life!! i cry because i want her hair to like strangle me idek who i am anymore she changed my life

katherine is the kind of hot that youre literally sobbing over because she looks like a doll????? my mom my princess my angelic little sunflower she is so pure i have never seen anything as pure as her she is a cat, she is a pup, she is a bunny rabbit also her gIGGLE I WANT TO die anyway she raised me


Favorite Character Meme: Eight Quotes [5/8]

“She understood her worth which made her powerful. The world gravely needed a hero so she became one. No superpowers really; just a strong woman who took no shit from anyone” [x]