she said i have my own

Lurking is enlightening

So I’ve been bored…so I checked to see what some of the crazies think.

It continues to amaze me how some continue to insist that HKN & I are the same person. I think they’re desperate to think that there’s only one major “babygater” blogger rather than the fact that there are several, with HKN & I having more heavily trafficked blogs.

HKN & I agree on the big picture regarding Rob & Kristen but we don’t agree on all the details. Which is no big deal since we have our own perspectives.

But be clear… I AM NOT HKN, she is NOT ME. I don’t have enough time to keep up two RK blogs, twitter accounts etc and keep up my business.

My fandom nick name is MamaNails or as most know my first name is Phronsie.

I share this because I saw ppl talking about HKN and something she said today. I went to go check to see her comment because since her illness she makes minimal appearances and I was curious to see what she was sharing today. Alas she’s still MIA and hopefully using her energy to get well.

There’s so much goodies coming our way in regards to RK we need all hands on deck to party….

Originally posted by coeurdeausalee

Happy sailing….

New pictures like this are just around the next bend.

In the meantime I’m enjoying a fabulous red wine on the lido deck.


Originally posted by gabrielasmh

today at denny’s i was being my usual 58 year old cis woman self and wearing my “i read about men beating up other men in a sexual context for my own enjoyment” shirt, yknow as i do

and there is this little girl in the line behind me, she was probably, like, nine, what a fucking scrub

and shes been staring at my shirt for the last five minutes so i say “do you have something to say to me you filthy fucking gremlin”

and she replies with “thats kinda weird”

a woman who i assume to be her mom suddenly squeezed up through the floorboards, still no idea how she did that, and said “fiction doesn’t affect reality jessica. as soon as we’re getting home you’re scrubbing the entire fucking house with a pencil eraser.”

the girl starts crying and her mom drags her out of the denny’s, but not before giving me the secret “i, too, love pretending gay men exist for my enjoyment” handshake. 

the entire restaurant starts slow-clapping it out for me. the cashier gave me free lunch and permission to fuck his wife whenever i want.

what a fantastic day.

We're Already Married

So, I am supposed to be working on a chapter of a story and an angsty oneshot. But this fluffy drabble had to be written. It just had to.

               “Draco, we need to talk.” Lucius told his son firmly as he and Narcissa walked into the room.

                “Mhm. Go ahead.” Came the little three-year-old’s distracted voice.

                Lucius rolled his eyes before stepping behind his son and peering down. “What in heaven’s name is that?”

                That had Narcissa circling the table and looking at her son’s face. His tongue was peeking out of his lips, eyes were narrowed in concentration while brows were furrowed and he seemed to be drawing something on a spare piece of parchment. She blinked uncertainly at the pure disaster of scribbles that were everywhere. If it wasn’t supposed to be a ball of rubbish, she honestly had no idea what her son was attempting to draw.

                “It’s Dobby. Can’t you tell?” Draco looked up with a wobbly lip and sad eyes as he pointed across the room to the house elf. As if the thought of it not looking like Dobby was a disaster.

                Lucius looked over for the first time and noted that the elf was in an odd pose with an apple balancing on his forehead.

                At his arched brows, Dobby hurried to explain. “Master Draco asked Dobby to be his muse.”

                “Is that so?” Lucius drawled with a heavy sigh. “Draco, you can’t order Dobby to play with you.”

                “Why not?”  

                Patience was not Lucius’ strong suit. He looked to the ceiling briefly before shaking his head. “We will have this conversation at a later date. There are more important things to discuss.”

                Draco hummed a little before looking up with wide eyes. “Am I in twouble? If so, Dobby did it.”

                A soft surprised noise emitted from the elf and Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “No, you aren’t in trouble and don’t blame Dobby for things he didn’t do.”

                “Sowwy.” Draco apologized as he looked down at his hands.

                “Sorry.” Lucius corrected. For some reason, pronouncing R’s were hard for his son.

                Draco’s brows were pinched in confusion. “That’s what I said.”

                “No, you said—” Lucius paused as he decided to let it go. “Nevermind. What I have been trying to tell you is that we have come to discuss a pureblood tradition with you.”

                That had Draco’s expression souring. “No thanks.”

                Narcissa covered her mouth as she tried muffling her laughter. Salazar, she loved her son.

                “Draco.” The hard tone of his voice had his son straightening up and giving him a serious look. Finally.

                “When you come of age, you will be drawn into a marriage contract. This is something that most purebloods do and it is a standing tradition of the Malfoy family.” Lucius shot is wife a look when she crossed her arms. He knew that she didn’t agree and wanted Draco to find his own spouse but that wasn’t the plan.

                “I’m alweady mawried.” Draco interrupted excitedly!

                Lucius blinked rapidly. “You want to run that by me again?”

                “Hawwy asked me to mawwy him today! I said I would if he let me have his pudding. He did!”

                “And who pray tell is Hawwy?” Lucius shuddered at the pronunciation.

                “Hawwy is my best fwriend. He has pwetty eyes and he said I do too! We are mawried.”

                Narcissa smirked at her husband. “You hear that? He’s already married. Looks like that marriage contract is moot.”

                “Narcissa, you can’t possibly—”

                She stood up rapidly, holding out her hand for her son to take. “I can and I will. You want to explain to your son why he can’t marry his best friend? Because if so, you can deal with the aftermath.”

                Draco looked between them rapidly. “But…” His eyes filled with tears. “We alweady mawried.” The sniffle he released had Lucius closing his eyes. “Tomorrow’s the anni- anniver-” He scrunched up his nose as he looked to Narcissa for help.

                “Anniversary?” She offered picking him up and holding him close.

                Draco nodded rapidly as he wiped his eyes. “Yes. I want to give him a gift.”

                Narcissa smiled softly. “How about we go see if we can have one of the house elves cook him something. What kind of desserts does he like?”

                “Tweacle tawrt.”

                Lucius watched his wife and son walk out of the room with a shake of his head. He looked over and noticed that Dobby was still in the same awful pose. “Cease that at once.”

                When the elf let out a noise of relief, Lucius rolled his eyes. “What are the chances that I’ll get my way in the end?”

                He knew that Dobby couldn’t lie to him, so he was interested in hearing the response.

                The *pop* of the elf’s departure was heard and it had Lucius putting his face in his hands. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Keep reading

Our party discovering the background of the naive, 16 year old, human Cleric girl in the party

Paladin (ooc): Cleric is carrying all our money right?

Cleric: Yeah, but I won’t give you guys any.

Paladin: What!? Why?

Cleric: My mentor, Old Pete, always said that wealth is meant to be gained, not spent.

Paladin:… Pete didn’t happen to be a dragon, did he?

Cleric: What else would he be?

Druid: Wait, what!?

Paladin: But she is carrying all our money!

Monk: I have my own money

Paladin: Which was all hidden in the gnome’s rectum!

Cleric: Seems like a fine way to guard your wealth to me.

Sansa Stark does not deserve your hatred

In my last year of school we had to write a character analysis and I decided to write about Sansa Stark. My teacher (who was only a couple of years older than me) was a huge asoiaf fan and he got really excited about it, but I remember him frowning and saying in a perplexed voice, “How can Sansa Stark be your favourite character?”

I looked at him with the same confusion mirrored in my own eyes and replied: “Because she is strong.” That was the first time I realised how hated Sansa was and it really infuriated me and so I decided to show him in my essay why she is my favourite character and honestly I think he got it because I did end up getting a good grade.

The analyse focused on book Sansa but this will focus on show Sansa,and it will probably be a bit of a read.

This here is the very moment I began to like Sansa. This is where she looses her innocence and where her character growth begins. This is when she goes from being a child to a young woman. This is where she wants to kill her Prince Charming and she would have if the Hound had not stopped her. This is also a part many viewers seem to overlook, deciding to still view Sansa as a stupid little girl and that is the problem with those who dislike Sansa, they refuse to acknowledge her growth.

Keep reading

friends & feelings — tom h.

Originally posted by peterparkerimagine

author’s note: first head cannon bc i couldn’t stop thinking about this. also if you read this thank you so much !! i love you wowow

  • okay but you and tom would definitely start out as best friends
  • like you two would probably meet through harrison and the second you do there’s just this instant connection
    • “i’ve never met one of harrison’s friends before”
    • “maybe because you think you’re his only friend”
  • and he’d just stand there and be like did she just diss me??? i think she just dissed me??? already??
  • but he’d laugh anyway bc that’s not how girls usually talk to him and that’d make you laugh and wow what a beautiful start
  • and as the days went on you two would get closer and closer
  • you guys for sure got closer more emotionally than physically at first 
  • for instance tom would have a bad day and he’d just come to you
  • literally lay in your bed and just talk to you about anything and everything
    • “sometimes this lifestyle just gets too much and i don’t think i’m made for it”
    • “if anyone is made for it, it’s you tom”
    • “and besides if you every turn into an insensitive cocky fuck, harrison and i will hand you your ass”
  • THIS was one of the things he’d love most about you
  • like you’d be there for him and give him great advice when he needs it but at the same time you were you and you just had to make him laugh and diss him in some way to get that pretty smile on his face again
  • he adored it
    • “did you see all those girls out there Y/N- wow they really love me”
    • “lol who are you”
  • in his head he’s always be like “why is she like this” 
  • BUT when you two started getting physically closer wow just wow he adored it just as much if not more than the emotional connection you two had together
  • always hugging you
  • sometimes for no reason at all
    • “tom i’m trying to get a glass of water”
    • “shh shh i’m trying to hug you”
  • that’s when you started to think “why is he like this”
  • so TOUCHY
  • he’d always find excuses to hold your hand
    • “and then she told me- tom what-why are you holding my hand”
    • “there’s a bug on it”
    • “i think i would’ve felt-”

Keep reading

Karma is Oh So Sweet

Note: Not really a revenge story on my part, but I believe this is a fine example of cosmic revenge for a larger hole. Long story, TL:DR at the end.

About seven years ago, I was in my sophomore year of high school. Let me just mention this, I was not your typical student:

  • I came from one of the poorest family in this town of three thousand. My dad was physically disabled for years before this and had been unemployed since I was in third grade. This left my mom the only working member of my family until my dad was put on disability. My dad, however, did not get put on disability UNTIL my sophomore year of high school, so around eight years, my mom was the only one working. In fact, there were times when I didn’t even get new clothes to wear for a new year as we couldn’t afford it.
  • I am legally mentally disabled. I was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome in eighth grade and, legally, should have been in some special classes. This led the school to alter my schedule without my permission and resulted in my mom’s wrath to the school.
  • I am clinically depressed and went through a time when I did not take my medication as it made me aggressive. I have since switch medications and have become a lot calmer as a result.

Keep reading

An episode where Pearl meets someone who acts like her could be interesting. Like they use their frail appearance and sad back story to get what they want from people or to stop people from critisizing them. Someone who won’t get over that one crush who moved on.

And at the end Pearl is getting sick of listening to them and either Steven or Amethyst goes ‘But pearl, don’t you do the same thing?’

And Pearl just has a big moment of self realization of what’s she’s done over the years. Her obsession with Rose and behavior against Greg.

It could end with the gems chasing the person away because now everyone’s just annoyed at them, and Pearl just kinda… thinks in the house and doesn’t do anything for a few days/episode because she’s still thinking.

And she starts being more observant when she starts doing her pity stuff and feels angry over Rose, she becomes more hesitant and really starts to think things over.

You know, character stuff that takes a long time to do.

Rihanna Talks Dressing for Her 'Fluctuating Body Type' & Being Body Conscious

10/16/2017 by Yasmine Gray

Rihanna attends the 2017 Diamond Ball at Cipriani Wall Street on Sept. 14, 2017 in New York City.   

Rihanna just became even more relatable (if that’s possible), as she spoke to The Cut about dressing for her constantly fluctuating body type. The “Love on the Brain” singer encouraged catering to your specific shape and shared her own daily closet experience.

“I actually have had the pleasure of a fluctuating body type, where one day I can literally fit into something that is bodycon, and then the next day - the next week - I need something oversized,” the Bajan songstress said.

After experiencing body shaming in June due to noticeable new curves, the 29-year-old took to Instagram to let haters know exactly how she felt. Her classy clapback response — a Gucci Mane meme with the caption “If you can’t handle me at my 2007 Gucci Mane you don’t deserve me at my 2017 Gucci Mane” — garnered over 850,000 likes and countless fans’ supportive comments.

A post shared by badgalriri (@badgalriri) on Jun 5, 2017 at 11:02am PDT

Because her fashion choices are dictated by her current shape, she picks outfits on a case by case basis depending on how she feels about her body every morning. “I really pay attention every day when I go into the closet about what’s working for my body that morning. I feel like that’s how everyone should go after fashion, because it’s an individual thing,” Rihanna expressed. “Then if you take it further, it’s like, ‘What week are you having?’ You having a skinny week? You having a fat week? Are we doing arms this week? We doing legs this week?”

One thing her fluctuating size definitely doesn’t stop her from doing is rocking styles “fresh out the runway,” and she encourages girls to wear what works for them. “I love to play with silhouettes as well, but I think it’s important to make sure that you wear the thing that works for your body the best, and that’s flattering.” Right on, Rih.



I saw Taylor was on tumblr one lunchtime, so I reblogged a gif of me dancing that I posted on Monday, with the message “Taylor!!! First off, I love you and the first two songs so so much. And I’m finally at dance college! I’m having the most amazing time and in a few years when I’m in a ballet company or on the West End I’ll still be warming up to your music. Thank you for everything, love Emma xxx”
She liked it and I had a little meltdown, and I thought that I was the happiest she would make me until the album came out. That is until I finished college to see a message from Taylor Nation asking me for my details. I replied straight away, and they called me as soon as I did. They invited me and my Mum to London the next day for a special event, and from the timing and they fact that they wanted me to travel at such short notice I figured I would get to meet her. So of course we said yes, booked train tickets, and then it was time and we were all queuing to register and check in. At first nobody wanted to mention Taylor, and then a woman cane to apologise for the delay and said just chill and talk about Taylor. So after that we all got super excited and started talking, and on the way in we were told where we could leave our bags and coats, and this guy said to me “You won’t need it, where you’re going it’s going to be hot. And you’ll be faded enough from the heat, never mind meeting… you know.”
Which was 100% confirmation we were meeting Taylor and I started freaking out and told people that I met (WHO I WANNA GIVE A MASSIVE SHOUTOUT TO -ABBIE AND FLORA - @auntbeckyisbae @spoookyswift WE TRIED TO KEEP EACH OTHER SANE THE WHOLE TIME AND THEY’RE AWESOME)
And then after another little wait we got on a bus to go to the classified location: Taylor’s house!!! We were forewarned not to scream when we got there so we crept in very quietly and only whispering how shook we were. Her house is absolutely gorgeous! All of the design is so H E R and it looked like one of those stunning pinterest homes. So we went to the kitchen and ate delicious cookies and M&M’s that said REP on them, and of course the chicken nuggets. There were loads of fizzy drinks, and the next thing we see Scott, in his usual state of handing out guitar picks. Then Tree walks in and we have another meltdown (also she is so pretty like how!??) and then I saw everyone crowding round the kitchen doors so I went over there. I looked up to see Andrea and some of TN walking down the stairs waving and the excitement just kept building until the crowd started moving. Me, Abbie, and Flora realised we were heading to the living room, and all held hands and with our parents/siblings too. One woman from TN saw usand said “I love this support system you have here!” And we ended up sat on the floor next to the air conditioning which was very nice, it got SO HOT in there. We all saw TN, Scott and Andrea pointing and whispering and we knew she was about to arrive. I was still calm at this point, until Scott opened the door just a crack. I knew that if it wasn’t Taylor, he would’ve just opened it normally, and then THE QUEEN HERSELF WALKS IN AND WE ALL STARTED CRYING AND SCREAMING AND SHES JUST LIKE “HEYYY!”
Then she sits down in the chair and you’ve heard most of this so I won’t go into too much detail. But yeah she said all the countries and she couldn’t work the speaker and the music is SO GOOD YOU GUYS I CANT WAIT FOR EVERYONE TO HEAR IT. And then it was time for meet and greet!! I spoke to Andrea first and she hugged me and then I went in and saw Taylor Swift and I started crying as soon as she spoke to me and hugged me.
She said “Hiii. You look beautiful” and i was like “I love you”
And then my mum told her “They said we only get one picture so I was gonna let her get it on her own but they said I can get another one” and Taylor goes “Of course, don’t be silly!”
And then my mum told her it’s my birthday soon and I said “It’s on Wednesday!”
She leaned in for another hug and said “Happy birthday!” Then after that hug she kept hold of many hand as I told her “I was supposed to have a party tonight but I was like sorry guys, I’m sick, I’m going home”
And then my mum said “We only heard about this yesterday.”
AND THEN THE BEST THING HAPPENED SHE LOOKS AT ME AND SAYS “Yeah i picked you like two days ago - you’re the dancer right? From Manchester!”
At this point I’m jumping up and down crying and my mum told her that I learnt a dance to one of her songs yesterday, and she looked so happy, she goes “Which one!?”
And I said “Look What You Made Me Do! The teacher pointed right at me and said ‘you’re gonna love this cause we’re dancing to Taylor Swift”
And she was like “Yeah! I saw you do your thing” and she gestured a little bit of the move and I said “A double pirouette!”
She goes “Yeah! And I was like we HAVE to get her”
(Cue my actual death)
And she carried on: “I’m so glad you made it. I was like, can she come? Is she coming? Cause I wasn’t sure with the West End thing whether you were in London or Manchester…”
So I told her “No that was just someday, and I was wondering do you have a favourite musical? What musicals do you like?” And then she told me “That’s a hard question… but the whole speak now tour was based off Wicked.” And i was like “Ohmygod that’s so cool”
Then the lady asks if we want to take the picture and I was so excited, so first we got the one with my mum in, then before she even got chance to ask me what pose I wanted I said “Can i get a kiss on the cheek?”
And just as I think it’s over and she can’t possibly make me any happier, she gives me another hug goodbye and as I’m walking away I said
“I’ll hopefully see you on tour”
And she looks me dead in the eye and says “Yes. That would be the BEST!”


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She was breathtaking. She would never think so herself, but man she drew every eye in the room. 

They way her dark blue dress clung to her curves, and the smile she was wearing made her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting. 

Shawn was watching her from across the room. He would feel his chest tighten when she would laugh for smile at someone else. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was jealous. Jealous of the fact that he wasn’t the one making her laugh or smile like that. 

He was hating that he got to walk in, with her on his side, and then had to split up during the party because he had to meet with the record label President. 

She understood, knowing that Shawn had to talk up the new album. He had to do his job, this was just a part of it. 

But she wished that he was here to hold her to his side, hand on her back, while this creepy guy spoke to her. Well not to her, more like, to her breasts.

Shawn noticed, he noticed how every man looked at her in the room. It made his blood boil, she was his and not anyone else’s. He hates that others even get to see her like that. 

He’s biting his lip as he watches her from across the room. 

“Shawn?” Is what pulls him from his glare.

“Hmm what?” He asks looking over at Andrew.

“Are you paying attention? They asked how the third album is coming along?”

“Oh yeah, it’s going good. I just wrote a new song with Geoff, hoping to record it this week.” He nods, letting his gaze fall back to her. 

He starts fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, taking in deep breaths as the man she is talking too moves in closer. 

“Where is Geoff?” Andrew asks. 

Shawn ignores the question. Eyes going wide, and angry as the man moves forward, grabbing her arm. 

She looks scared, Shawn can tell from the look on her face. The man pulls her closer to him, he’s right in her face. She’s trying to push him away but he’s got a tight hold on her arm. 

“What the fuck.” Shawn growls as he pushes past the crowd, rushing to get to her. 

She’s looking around, hoping someone will see what is going on. Hoping to find Shawn. She can’t find him anywhere. 

The panic in her chest rising, this guy just won’t let go and he’s starting to hurt her. 

“Let go of me!” She screams as he puts both hands on her. 

“Let go of her!” A yell comes from behind her making her flinch. 

“I think you need to mind  your own business.” The man glares at Shawn.

“She is my business, you need to let her the fuck go.” Shawn growls.

“Get lost man, I grabbed her first. I’ll let you have your turn when I’m done.” 

“Y/n duck.” Shawn said. She did as told and ducked her head, looking down. 

All she heard was a rush of air and the crack of someone’s nose. The tight grip on her arms is released and she moves away from the guy. 

He’s on the ground clutching his mouth and nose, blood gushing every where. She looks over at Shawn who is shaking out his right hand and breathing hard. 

“Shawn what the fuck?” Andrew yells. 

“Don’t.” She squeaks trying to warn Andrew to back off and let him cool down. 

“Shut it.” Andrew says putting a hand up in front of her face. “Shawn,” He starts, angry.

But Shawn has had enough of people treating his girl with disrespect. 

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” Shawn snaps, getting into Andrews face.

“Shawn don’t do this.” She pleads trying to grab at his arm.

“No what did you just say?”

“Shawn, let’s go for a walk. Cool you down.”

“Y/n, I need you to let go.” Shawn says lowly, moving his gaze to her. 


“I’m too heated and I don’t want to hurt you, let go.”

“Stop it, you’d never hurt me.”

“Y/N I SAID LET GO.” He snaps at her. She flinches and backs away, he’s never yelled at her like that before. 

“Shawn!” She says covering her mouth. He looks over at her, about to yell again. But the words get caught in his throat as he notices the scared look on her face. The face she made when the man was grabbing her, she was staring at him like that. 

“Y/n, baby I’m so sorry.” He snaps back to reality starting to walk to her.

“No, stop.” She says shaking her head. She lets a tear fall and walks away from him. 

“No! Y/n.” He chases after her.

By the time he catches up with her, she’s already in the car, driving off without him. 

“Geoff.” He calls as he sees Geoff across the way. “I need your car.” He yells sprinting to him.


“Don’t start with me, give me your fucking keys.” Shawn says holding out his hand. 

Geoff knows something is seriously wrong, and digs into his pocket throwing the keys into Shawn’s hand. 

Shawn runs to the car, starting it as soon as he can. He has to find her and apologize. He never ever wanted to see that look on her face again. He can’t believe he snapped on her like that. 

He throws the car in park next to the one she drove home, rushing up the stairs to the apartment. He opens the door, surprised it isn’t locked. 

“Y/n?” He calls out. 

No response. 

His heartbeat beating out of his chest. 

He can’t lose her.

“Y/n?” He calls out again. 

He’s walking around the apartment trying to find her. He stops in front of their master bathroom. 

He can hear her crying. He goes to open the door, but this one is locked. 

“Baby.” He sighs against the door. “Open the door please.” 

“Go away.” She whines. 

“No, Baby, please talk to me.” 

“Please Shawn go away.” She says, sobbing. 

His chest clenches and it feels like his heart is ripped out of his body as he can hear her sobbing on the other side of the door. He hates that he can’t hold her, rock her back and forth. 

“I’ll wait Baby.” He sighs. He hears her sigh and choke back a sob. He turns and leans his back on the door. 

He wipes his face and closes his eyes as he starts to cry himself. 

An hour passes and he slides down the door, sitting on the floor with his back and head against the door. The sobbing stopped and he’s pretty sure she’s fallen asleep but he’s true to his word. 

He’ll wait. 

He’s wiping his tears as the door clicks and opens. Before he can respond he falls back, as the thing holding him up moves, and he hits his head on the floor.

“Jesus Shawn are you okay?” Y/n crouches down to check on him. 

He looks up at her with a small smile.

“So much better now.” He whispers letting his hand cup her face, using his thumb to wipe her dried tears away. She closes her eyes leaning into his hand. “I’m so sorry Baby, I don’t even know what the hell I was doing. I was so angry that that guy touched you, I’m sorry about that too.” He starts rambling.

“Stop, stop, Shawn, stop.” She hushes him. He sits up, as she sits on the floor in front of him. She crosses her legs and he does the same, letting his hands rest on her thighs. 

“No, I should have been there with you the whole time. I should have stepped in when I saw the guy approach you.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t of hit him, but all I saw was red. Especially when he spoke of you like you were a toy or some shit.” He shakes his head. “I lost it, he treated you so wrong and you didn’t deserve that. I couldn’t help myself, I had to punch him. He had to know that what he was doing was wrong.”

“Shawn, I’m not angry at you.” She stops his rambling by putting her hands on his face. 

“But you should be.”

“Why? Because you stood up for me? Because you punched a guy that was talking about sexually abusing me?” She spoke truthfully. His jaw clenches and he closes his eyes as she says that. 

“But I don’t,”

“No, you listen to me. I love that you get jealous. I love that you stand up for me at all times. I love that you’ll punch a guy and not worry about the consequences just because he spoke disrespectfully to me. Shawn I love that side of you, I love you.” 

“Stop, don’t say that.” He sighs. 

“Shawn?” She asks confused.

“No I scared you. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I snapped at you like that. I was just so mad, and then Andrew started to get in on it. He should never speak to you like that. But the look on your face.” He sighs covering his face with his hands. “Jesus Y/n I can’t get the look on your face out of my head.” 

“Shawn.” She grabs his hands, moving them away. He closes his eyes, not looking at her. “Look at me.” She says softly. He shakes his head. “Shawn look at me.” She says again.

“No Y/n.” 

She’s lost her patience.

“Dammit Shawn, look at me!” She raises her voice at him. He looks up, searching her face. “Shawn, I should have listened to you. You told me to let go. I knew how heated you were, I knew it. I was just trying to get you away from the group. I didn’t want you to do something you would regret. I just wanted you to calm down for a second.” She explains. “I knew it, I should have listened. Tried to get into your head in a different way.” 

“I did do something I regret.” He sighed.

“What did you do Shawn? When I left what did you do?”

“When you left? What no. I regret snapping at you like that. I have never yelled at you, ever and all of the sudden it happened.”

“Shawn it’s okay.” She tried.

“No, it’s not. I wasn’t me, I couldn’t see straight.”

“Shawn.” She crawls into his lap. “Stop it’s okay. I know that, I wasn’t crying because you yelled at me. I’m a big girl, I can be yelled at without crying. All my emotions hit me at once. Yes your yelling didn’t help, but it’s like the situation finally clicked in my head. That guy was trying to grab me and take me, and I freaked.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

“No I’m so sorry. I can’t lose you.”

“You aren’t gonna lose me, ever. Shawn I love you” 

“I love you too.” He smiles weakly.

“How’s your head?”

“Can you kiss it and make it better?” He teases. She smiles and kisses the top of his head. 

“All better?”

“It hurts here too.” He taps his lips. She laughs and leans in and connects their lips.

“That’s helping.” He mumbles against her lips, causing her to giggle.

“How long did you sit here waiting?” She asks as they pull away.

“I don’t know, I would have sat here all night.” He shrugs. 

She smiles and kisses him again. 

“I would wait a lifetime for you.” He grins at her. 

“Stop being cheesy.” She lightly pushes his face away.

“Can’t help it. I love you.” He smiles.

“With the lights on?” She teases. He rolls his eyes and grins at her. 

“If you’ll let me.” He smirks.

“Nice try.” She nods at him. 

“You’re okay though?” He asks becoming serious.

“Yeah Babe I’m fine.” 


“No promises remember.” 

“Stop playing for a second, promise me you’re okay.”

“I promise I’m okay.” She whispers, running her fingers threw his curls. 

“Okay.” He sighs, closing his eyes.

“Does this mean I have a ‘Bad Reputation’ now?” She giggles. 

He shakes his head, kissing her, to stop the teasing.
Exhausting phonecall - aoimotion - Zootopia (2016) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

“Apart from that… I don’t dislike you.” She said that as if it was huge admission. And it probably was. “Even if you would deserve my hatred, there is… ah, never mind.”
“There is no way you could hate me?”
“… I’d have phrased the concept in another way.”
Jack wasn’t smiling. And yet, he felt as if he was. Or, at least, as if he had a reason to do so. It was warm inside his chest, somehow. It was gentle… and it was undeserved. All things mixed up caused an unfortunate slip of the tongue. “You know, Walker, I think I really like you.”


Have some Jack/Cynthia missing moment I needed to write because I’m trash. Right after Black Jack’s chapter 4
Neil Gaiman reveals the real ending Terry Pratchett wanted for The Shepherd's Crown
Neil Gaiman reveals what Terry Pratchett was never able to get down on paper - and why he wanted to 'steamroll' his final work

The book has devastated readers with the death of the witch Granny Weatherwax, a major Discworld character and longstanding fan favourite.

Readers who have finished the book may have guessed what Pratchett originally intended, which was that Weatherwax had “actually put her consciousness into You, the cat”. Hints of this plan remain in the published book, which suggests that You is no longer wholly feline.

Gaiman said: “We think that Death has come for Granny Weatherwax, but it hasn’t and we think that she is dead but [she isn’t]”.

There was to have been a final scene in which Weatherwax says: “I am leaving on my own terms now.”

Only then, Gaiman said, would “Death turn up to take her for good”.

  • Dylann’s mother shared that he was always the last one out the door because he “was so particular” and things had to look precisely the way he wanted. As she also noted in interview with federal investigators, he insisted on coordinating his clothing to be the same color. She said that he insisted on having underwear that was very white.
  • When he visited his Roof grandparents, they said Dylann did not stay seated. He would pace, “wear out the floors,” if he were talking to his mom or dad on the phone. 
  • Even after he was adult, Dylann’s mother cleaned his room, and he described no ambition to be on his own in the world. In this evaluation, he said, “I am OK living with my mom” and that he has never really lived away from her. Asked if he’d prefer living on his own, he commented “probably not. I’d rather be with my mom and not worry. Even if she tells me what to do.” Asked what would be most difficult about living on his own, he answered that his mom “pays for food and everything.”  
What Do You Get for Pretending the Danger’s Not Real? / Kai Anderson

Originally posted by wolfangkala

A/N: Based off this request from anon: “Kai making the reader do the pinky thing and tell him about their dirtiest, most fucked up sexual fantasy? Then him making that a reality when they least expect it?”

My first request :’) Might come out with a part 2 to this if you guys want that. As always, please let me know what you think!

I’d also like to say that man-bun Kai does things to me that I’d never expect a man bun guy to be capable of.

Warnings: Smut, BDSM themes, mention of mental illness, strong language… Basically what you’d expect from Kai.

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Imagine...Sam Finding Out You’re Nesting (A/B/O)

Originally posted by aborddelimpala

Request: Could you write an alpha!Sam x omega!reader where the reader is nesting and is stressing out because Dean’s scent keeps coming into the room and it makes her feel unsafe even though she knows he wouldn’t do anything, so Sam had to calm her down…

Pairing: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

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The Limping Woman

You hear the uneven footsteps first.





That’s how you know she’s behind you. The heel is broken off of her left shoe and she drags it across the ground with every step, a sharp contrast to the steady click of her still-intact pump.

“Help me,” she whispers.

It’s an urgent, anguished plea.

“Please, I’m hurt; help me!”

Don’t turn around. That’s when she gets you.

Don’t run. She still gets you, but this time, she’s going to make it hurt.

At least, that’s the rumor, anyway.

Every small town has at least one; a local urban legend that everyone knows and swears is true because their sister’s best friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandson knew a fella who actually encountered it!

Ours was the Limping Woman, so named for her aforementioned distinct gait.

It was said that she was a teacher at the elementary school some decades before. Young, beautiful, and the victim of a terrible murder. She had been walking home to the house she shared with her parents one night after school when she realized she was being followed. She sped up and so did her pursuer, until both were running down this dark country lane with only open farmland on either side.

Her heel broke and her ankle snapped and she fell and her pursuer became her murderer.

It was a slow, torturous affair that left her beaten and covered in stab wounds and, when the killer was done, he just left her to bleed out beside the road. She wasn’t found until the next morning and, by then, all anyone could do was search for the person responsible. While some believe the man was caught and dealt with not long after, others think he or she is still at large and the Limping Woman, as the victim came to be known, won’t rest until her killer is caught.

I was always skeptical at best of the story. I’d passed the spot where she was supposed to appear a hundred times without incident, as did everyone else I knew. If a murderous ghost lived there, I was pretty sure I’d have seen her.

I said as much to my friend Stefi when she brought up that a friend of a friend of a friend had met the Limping Woman during lunch at school one day.

“It’s true! She was out on the old highway a couple nights ago and saw her!” Stefi insisted stubbornly over our sandwiches.

“If she actually saw her, wouldn’t she be dead?” I asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to turn around.”

“Heard her, whatever, you know what I mean, Rina.”

“Sure,” I said with a roll of my eyes. It always frustrated Stefi that I didn’t share her willingness to believe the unbelievable. “So how’d she get away?”

“She said the words, duh!”

“Oh, right, the woman’s last words. Last words we all somehow know without ever having caught the one person who would have heard them.”

“We know them because the real killer was never caught. He told people who told other people-”

“And we all just magically knew to use them to ward off being killed,” I finished for her.

Stefi frowned. She loved all things spooky and supernatural and had spent a lot of time researching our local legends, especially the Limping Woman.

“It’s not magic, it just reminds her of her own mother and she gets distracted by her grief and leaves you alone.”

“Ok, ok,” I said, hoping that that would be enough to put an end to the topic. It was an argument neither of us would win and I didn’t feel like getting into it (again) over whether or not a ghost was real.

At fifteen, it was starting to feel silly.

Stefi, however, wasn’t going to let me off so easily. “They say she remains because they got the wrong guy and she’s angry about it. Like, everyone knew it, but no one cared because they wanted to blame someone. Don’t you feel at least a little bad for her? She’s still waiting for justice after all this time.”


“She only goes after people who don’t believe in her, you know.”

I didn’t like the way Stefi said that, like she had an idea forming that I wouldn’t approve of, and I shook my head.

“Whatever it is, no.”

“We could go out there, out to the spot she haunts.”

“No, don’t be dumb,” I said.

“You don’t believe anyway, so what’s the big deal?”

“I’ve walked past there a lot, ok? Nothing’s ever happened.”

“Have you gone after dark?” Stefi had started to smile.

“No, but so what?”

“That’s when she’s active; going in the day doesn’t count.”

“This is dumb,” I said again.

“We’ll go tonight!”

Every argument I had was met with questions of whether I was too afraid and Stefi mocking me for being chicken. She kept it up for the rest of lunch, through our shared science class, and then passed me notes in the halls between classes after that. By the time the final bell rang, she had worn me down.

“But not because I believe she’s there,” I made sure she knew. “I’m just going so you shut up.”

The sun set just after five that evening. At seven, we met up on our bikes in front of my neighborhood. Her parents thought she was doing a project at mine, mine thought I was at her’s, and we had two hours to ride out to the farm where the Limping Woman was said to haunt and get back before they started trading phone calls.

We peddled hard and fast, leaving behind the glow from windows and streetlamps until darkness swallowed up the world around us. With only moonlight to guide us, we wove our way across town and passed into the outskirts, where the insects were louder, the stars brighter, and the safety that came from feeling like you were surrounded by other people fell away.

It was hard not feel entirely exposed out on that old road, where flat fields rolled off into the distance on either side. There was the occasional barn or farmhouse set a ways off down long, dusty drives, but otherwise, it really was just us and our bikes and the night.

“Up ahead,” Stefi said from behind me, “see the cross? That’s the marker for her.”

We skid to a stop a few yards away from it and exchanged a glance almost lost in the shadows.

“Scared?” She asked, breathless with excitement.

“No,” I said. It was an honest enough answer. I was nervous, sure, but who wouldn’t be when you’re outside after dark?

“Remember, if you turn around, she gets you. If you try to run, she makes it worse. Just stand still when she’s close by and say the words.”

Stefi spoke so seriously that I had to stifle a giggle. It was ridiculous! I kept trying to tell that to all the butterflies stirring in my stomach, but it didn’t do much good.

We climbed off our bikes and set them on their kickstand. Stefi groped about for my hand and entwined her fingers with mine. She was shaking.


“Let’s just get it over with,” I replied.

We walked up to where the cross was placed and paused. Stefi squeezed my hand and took in a slow, shuddering breath. Her fear was starting to have an effect on me, quickening my heartbeat, but I squared my shoulders and clenched my jaw and took a step forward.

We crept along the roadside, careful to keep our eyes pointed straight ahead. Stefi kept reminding me in a trembling whisper that looking anywhere else could lead to trouble. A minute or two passed, it couldn’t have been longer despite feeling like it, and nothing seemed to happen. My fear began to ebb, replaced by an admittedly relieved giddiness that I had been right and I almost turned to Stefi to say “I told you so”.

And then I realized how quiet it was.

All the insects that had been singing loudly when we arrived had gone silent. There were no distant calls from night birds, no breeze passing over us, nothing.

Just the sound of our own breathing.

To my surprise, Stefi sighed, disappointed. I wondered if she realized how quiet everything had become. How could she not feel how claustrophobic it had become out on that open road, how closed off we were in the dark and the silence?

I wanted to ask her, but the question was like a knot in my throat that I couldn’t untangle.

Behind us, grass rustled, followed by the crunch of loose gravel underfoot. Like someone was pulling themselves slowly out of the field and onto the road.





Every hair on my body stood up at once.

“Rina?” I hadn’t realized that my grip on Stefi’s hand had tightened so much. I could feel her eyes on me, but couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

From somewhere over my shoulder, a woman started to sob softly.

“Help me,” she cried plaintively.

“Rina?” Stefi said again.

“S-she’s coming,” I managed to whisper.

Instead of being scared, Stefi snorted. “Real funny. I get it, ok? The Limping Woman is just made up; I’m convinced now. You don’t have to rub it in.”





The unmistakable sound of someone inching towards us, slowly, painfully, crying out with each step.

“Please,” she begged, “I’m hurt and he’s still out there.”

“Stefi,” I hissed, tears burning in my eyes, “she’s coming!”

There must have been something in my voice, a tightness that only true terror could cause, that convinced my friend that I wasn’t just pretending. She grabbed my forearm with her other hand and clutched it until her nails were digging into my skin.

“She only goes after people who don’t believe,” Stefi said. “That must be why-”

“What do I do?” I begged, my mind white and blank.

My entire body was screaming to run, to get away from that thing that was getting closer and closer, but Stefi’s firm grasp and my own mounting dread held me in place.

“Please,” the Limping Woman sobbed, “turn around. Help me!”

“The words,” Stefi said hurriedly, “you have to say the words when she’s right behind you!”

What words? I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t speak or think, I could only hear her.





The legend said you’d hear her uneven footsteps and be forced to listen to her pleas, but no one ever mentioned the smell. The stench of rot and earth and blood oozed through the air, slowly surrounding me and wrapping itself around me like tentacles. Smothering me. I gagged and pressed my free hand over my mouth and shook my head violently, trying to clear it, trying to make sense of things.

Stefi was jerking on my arm and saying something to me, over and over again, but I could barely hear her over the Limping Woman’s cries. The smell was getting so strong, making my stomach pitch and heave until I thought I’d be sick.

I leaned heavily on Stefi and she pulled me in close so that her lips were beside my ear. Through the veil of panic and nausea, I heard her scream.

“Say the words!”





The Limping Woman was so close behind us now that I could feel the chill radiating off of her.

The words, I thought. I had to say the words.

It just reminds her of her own mother and she gets distracted by her grief and leaves you alone, I heard Stefi’s voice from the previous day echo in my head.

Her mother. The words remind her of her mother. The Limping Woman’s last words.

“P-please,” bile rose in the back of my throat, “my mother’s waiting for me.”

The footsteps stopped and were replaced by a high pitched, heart wrenching keen.

From somewhere off in the night, a dog started to howl.

Insects began to sing again. The wind whistled across the field. Sounds of normalcy. Of life.

The Limping Woman continued to screech while I found my legs again and, with Stefi in tow, tore back to the bikes. I never once looked up from the ground. The only thing I saw as we darted by was a pair of feet in torn stockings and pumps, the heel of one of which was missing.

We didn’t stop riding until we made it back to my lawn and, when we got there, I raced to the bushes on the side of the house and vomited.

Stefi claims she didn’t hear or see anything that night, but she believes that I did. She believes that I encountered the Limping Woman. I tried to come up with some kind of rationalization for it, like power of suggestion or something, but when I think back to those footsteps and those sobs and that final scream, I know that there is only explanation.

And now I, too, believe in the Limping Woman.