she's not alone

4

Clarke backing Lexa into things + Lexa’s reaction

anonymous asked:

Pretty pretty please can you write something where Alex and Kara see Maggie when she's on the heavy bag or upset and Kara goes to comfort her but Al's like 'sweetie, I've got this' and it's sweet and comforting and amazing and I've been crying since I woke up this morning please give me something fluffy!

Kara knows something’s wrong the moment she enters the building.

Maggie’s heartbeat is steady, but elevated, hard, and while she’s generally learned to avoid walking into Alex or Maggie’s places – or her own bedroom during game night – when their heartbeats are quick and rapid, Maggie is alone.

She’s alone and loud hip hop that Kara can’t identify is pounding along with a rhythmic thudding.

Kara sighs.

Maggie’s working on her heavy bag.

Normally, Kara wouldn’t give it a second thought – Maggie loves that thing – but she’d had breakfast with James this morning and he’d regaled her with tales of how hard Maggie had just pushed him – and herself – in the gym.

So this probably isn’t her regular workout.

She gives up on the door after it becomes clear that Maggie’s not going to hear it, so she jets around the building and raps, instead, on the living room window.

Maggie’s face – sweat-streaked with focused, furious, intense eyes and messy hair swept off her neck in a high bun – doesn’t change when she sees Kara, and she doesn’t stop bouncing on the balls of her feet.

But she does tug at her gloves with her teeth, and she sheds one to yank the window open for her girlfriend’s little sister.

“Need something, Little Danvers?” she yells over her music, glad she doesn’t have to turn it down because of Kara’s superhearing. Without waiting for an answer, she replaces her glove and goes back to slamming combinations into the bag, working on her breathing and hip rotation with singular focus.

Kara watches her for a long moment.

“How do you do that? Alex says I always drop my left shoulder before I throw a punch, that it gives me away.”

Maggie sighs and gestures Kara in front of her, still weaving up and down on the balls of her feet.

“You shouldn’t have to drop your shoulder because it shouldn’t be up like that to begin with. Keep the tension in your core, not your shoulders.”

She reaches around Kara’s body and hesitates before touching her. Kara nods, suddenly breathless, suddenly shy, and Maggie is somehow both gentle and firm as she shows Kara with a splayed hand on her stomach, how to brace her abs, with gently tapping fingers on her shoulder, prompting her to relax it.

“Good, Little Danvers. Now when you punch, try not to send my bag through the wall, okay?”

Kara grins and pulls her punches, and Maggie surveys her with sharp eyes.

“You seemed pretty in danger of putting it through the wall yourself, Maggie.”

She catches the question in Kara’s voice, and she grunts and shifts Kara by the hips to the side so she can go at the bag again.

“It’s nothing, it’s whatever. Just a workout.”

“I heard you already had an exhausting one this morning.” There’s no judgment in Kara’s voice, just concern, but Maggie launches a rough roundhouse kick at the bag anyway.

“Our line of work, you can’t train too hard.”

“Actually, you – ”

“I’m fine, Kara. What did you need, anyway?”

Kara slips her phone out of her pocket and texts Alex as Maggie launches a new assault on the bag.

“Winn and I are in the mood for pool, and we wondered if you wanted to come.”

“No phone?” Maggie asks without looking at her, and Kara’s heart threatens to break, because she knows her sister’s girlfriend is breaking, but she doesn’t know why.

And her worst nightmare – both of their worst nightmares, she imagines – is not knowing how to help.

“You weren’t answering.” Kara finally reaches over and turns down the music, because her own senses are starting to overload. Maggie opens her mouth to object, but glances at Kara’s face and nods immediately, silently, like she understands without needing an explanation. Because she does.

Kara finds herself hoping that her sister marries this woman.

Maggie keeps her gaze on Kara’s face and her eyes soften somewhat. She stills for the first time since Kara flew in and rips off her gloves with a sigh.

“You ever just… for no reason, everything feels like the world’s ending? Except it’s not actually?”

Kara nods softly, slowly. “This one of those days?”

Maggie just stares at her face for a long moment, like she’s evaluating how much she wants to risk, and before she can decide, Alex’s key scrapes the lock.

One look at Maggie’s somehow both guarded and open face, the sweat pouring down her body, the slow swiveling of the heavy bag, and the concern in Kara’s eyes tells her everything she needs to know.

“Oh sweetie. I got this.” She strides over to Kara, squeezing her hands and kissing her cheek gratefully. “You wanna go get us some takeout?”

“I’ll go to that organic place in Austin, okay?” she tells Maggie, who fights tears and shakes her head, struck silent by the way the Danvers girls just… want to care for her. For some reason she can’t fathom.

“You don’t have to, Little – ”

But Kara’s already kissed her cheek, smiled softly at her sister, and flown back out the window.

Silence rises in her wake, and Maggie goes to put her gloves back on.

“Whoa whoa, okay,” Alex reaches out with gentle hands to stop her. “You don’t have to talk, babe, but you need to be gentler with your body, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Maggie stares at the ground and Alex kisses her forehead.

Maggie backs up.

“I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“Sweaty, yes. Gross? No. Never.”

Maggie sighs and Alex waits until she knows Maggie’s ready for a tiny push.

“One of those days?”

Maggie nods, humiliation written everywhere on her body, and Alex’s heart shatters.

“Well, Kara will be back in a little under an hour. You know what that gives us enough time for?”

“I’m not really up for sex, Danvers.”

Alex pffts. “No! Here, you shower. It’ll help. I’ll warm the towels for you. And I’ll have a surprise waiting when you come out, okay?”

Maggie sighs skeptically, exhaustedly.

“Do you trust me, babe?”

Maggie nods, because if she’s not beating the life out of something, it’s about all she can do.

“Good. So go. Shower.”

She does. She does and she hates every moment of it, especially the parts that make her feel somewhat, somehow, better.

But her throat unsticks and when she steps out of the bathroom in the tank and boxers Alex had slipped in and left for her, she speaks, because she panics.

Because her studio isn’t all that big, yet she can’t see Alex.

Alex, who told her to trust her. And yet she couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Alex.”

“Down here, babe!”

Alex’s voice is muffled and the smile in it, the barely restrained, bursting enthusiasm, is so clear that Maggie’s lips start tilting upward of their own accord.

“Danvers, what – “

Because as she rounds the couch, she finds Alex buried in a fort made, it seems, of every single pillow and blanket Maggie owns.

“It’s the Bad Day Tunnel. Or hole. Or fort. Or burrow. I can’t decide what it should be called. Kara would always call it the Fortress of Sistertude, but I very much don’t want you to be my sister, so I figure we should come up with something else.”

In spite of herself, Maggie plops down in the fort next to Alex, who tosses a blanket over her shoulders and lets her lean into her body.

“What does one do in the Bad Day… thing?” she asks in a monotone, because she’s scared that if she allows any emotion into her voice – like the overwhelming feeling of being cared for, being heard, being seen, that Alex is giving her so perfectly – she’ll break.

“One has a bad day. It’s where you go when you’re extra sad. You can do anything you want in the fort. Drink scotch – don’t worry, the scotch is for you, I brought myself root beer – ” And sure enough, there are bottles and glasses in the center of the fort – “and when Kara gets back, eat food. There can be music and there can be crying and there can be yelling and there can be cuddling, and I brought tissues and your favorite stuffed animals and your phone in case you want to just zone out and scroll through Instagram or something.”

“So basically you made me a depression tent. Where I can be depressed and it’s okay.”

Alex’s eyes fly wide, thinking that Maggie hates it. Thinking that she’s messed up, thinking that she’s hurt her more, offended her, been insensitive to her, not heard her.

“Yes?” Her voice is small and her voice is terrified, but then Maggie’s soft lips are on hers, and it’s one of the softest kisses they’ve ever shared, because Maggie has the energy to beat a heavy bag senseless but she doesn’t have the energy to sustain a passionate kiss, so Alex lets it stay soft, stay gentle, stay tender, stay perfect.

“I love you, Alex,” Maggie whispers into her lips, and Alex swears she won’t cry.

“I love you too, Maggie. However you feel, whenever you feel it.”

They’re both asleep in the depression tent when Kara returns with three heaping bags of takeout, and she smiles and sets the bags down and crawls into the fort, the tent, the safety, with her sister and her future sister-in-law. Alex feels Kara’s warmth and hums happily, shifting in her sleep so Kara can slip onto Maggie’s other side and help Alex hold her safe, hold her steady, hold her loved.

Post Beauty and The Beast, probably
  • The Prince: *shakes Père Robert's hands* Thank you for giving Belle books to read, so that she did not feel alone in the village.
  • Also The Prince: *drops a cartload of books* HERE HAVE THE OTHER WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE, PLUS SOME OTHER BOOKS TOO, I CANNOT GET OVER THE FACT THAT BELLE'S FAVORITE PLAY IS ROMEO AND JULIET, WE HAVE TO CORRECT THIS.

Everyone seems to wonder why the big reveal in the Supergirl storyline with Mon-El felt so obvious, why we knew so incredibly long ago, before they got close to being a canon ship, that he was the prince of Daxam whether or not we ever touched a comic or read commentary.  The reason is:  if we knew for a long time, we would get used to the idea.  So rather than identifying with Kara’s shock, fear, and outrage, we would identify with Mon-El’s discomfort and shame.  That’s the way you subtly focalized a story through one character’s perspective in order to make them appear as the more vulnerable and identifiable party.  They never did anything like this in season one.   

Whipped...friends?? Or...

Whipped…friends?? (Part One)

Flashbacks*


Harry doesn’t bother going back to the living room to join the boys. In fact, he’s stood frozen in place for the past ten minutes, staring at the door Y/N’s walked out through with the excuse of being late for a date she had never once mentioned before. Harry didn’t even think she was dating, let alone actually seeing someone already.

It’s all come as a bit of a shock to him if he’s being honest. He likes to think they had something special going on, but maybe it was just all in his head. Or maybe he should’ve said something to her, proper admitted his feelings and all. But what if she didn’t like him back? Harry’s always been a sort of risk taker when it came to getting what he wanted. But he always thought risking their friendship was too much. If she liked him…that would be amazing. But…what if she didn’t.  

If he told her how he’s stayed awake more times than he can count thinking of her. How he’s watched her sleep next to him and wanted to kiss away the frown she gets when she’s having a bad dream. He wants to jokingly tell her how the boys tease him for being so whipped, and have her laugh because they both know it’s true. He wants to tell her that he loves that he gets along with Gemma and his mum. That they adore her because she’s everything they want for him. He wants to tell her she’s everything he wants for him. He just wants to explain to her, or at least try to because it’s very hard to find the words for it, how she makes him feel…whole. How he misses her when she’s not with him, and only falls harder when she is. 

So no, Harry doesn’t bother going back to the living room. Walks up the stairs of his home instead, body slumped and heart wrenching. He thinks he’s lucky that he’s made it down the hallway and to his bedroom with out breaking down. Managed to somehow drag his feet and supported his heavy body…heavy heart, through his bedroom doors and to the bed. He stares at it for a short minute, thinking about how he’s going to have to sleep on his own tonight. How he’s going to be denied of Y/N’s warmth tonight. He’s not going to have anyone to wrap his arms around, to breathe their scent, to smile into their hair when he wakes up in the middle of the night reminded that he’s not alone. And he sits on the edge of his too big a bed, feet firm on the cold floor, the heels of his hands digging at his eyes because surely this is all a dream..a nightmare. Thinking about it, he doesn’t remember ever being this…this…gutted? Jealous? Empty? Broken? All of the above, and more!


Walking down the streets of anywhere hasn’t been much of a hassle for him since the band’s break. He’s able to walk through roads and into shops with no problem. The paps have been nice enough to keep a distance when taking photos, and he’s grateful for that. So in all honesty, now he’s only ever just a tad tense when Y/N’s with him. But it’s not a bad thing, no, he loves having someone to go around town with, rather just feels the need to protect her a bit more on their outings. 

So he keeps an arm around her shoulder, body tucked close to his, guiding her as they walk down the busy street, pulling her closer when he thinks someone passing by might bump into her. And she doesn’t complain. Tonight’s temperature’s dropped rather low, and the heat emitting from Harry’s body keeps her warmer than she thinks her own coat does. Y/N thinks it’s nice. Loves when Harry’s close to her. Loves the fact that his scent will linger on her clothes for days until she finally brings herself to put them in the washer.

They come to a stop by a hot dog cart, tummies grumbling because they hadn’t eaten anything since brunch, and even then Y/N hadn’t felt well enough to eat more than half of what was on her plate. So as per usual when that happened, Harry had to finish her meal, too, not that he had complained.

Now he’s standing in front of her, hands rubbing at her arms to heat her up as he offers to buy her a hotdog because “ye’ need t’ eat somethin’, kitten. Can’t have ye’ gettin’ sick, now.”

So she nods her head yes and tells him she’ll be waiting for him inside of the bakery they’re stood in front because “s'too cold outside. And I caught a whiff of the goodies! Gonna head in and get us a table.” Harry can’t help but smile down at her, and before he’s able to say anything, she leans up to whisper in his ear, “I know…you used to be a baker.” The sound of her giggle tickles at his ear, his smile only stretching more, and now he understands what the boys meant. He gives a light chuckle, kissing the top of her head before whispering a low, “I’ll jus’ be a minute.”

Y/N never needed to tell Harry how she liked her food, it’s fair to say they know each other well enough not to get the other’s orders wrong. And as simple as that thought might be, it makes them both happier than the other will ever know to know that type of stuff. 

Harry never thought he’d feel such happiness looking at someone either. When his mum used to give him talks about girls and how important it is to treat them like princesses, Harry would wave the comments away. He was old enough to know that yes, his mother did raise him to be a proper gentleman. But he never thought, or at least not at the time because he was so young, that he’d have someone making him feel the way Y/N does. Only ever wished.

But now he’s looking at a beautiful woman standing in a bakery. Her eyes fixed on the displays because he sure knows she’s got a sweet tooth.

“Tell me wha’ ye’ wan’ and I’ll get it for ye’.”

Harry’s whispered words have Y/N turning around swiftly, smiling up at him because Harry’s never short on getting her anything and everything. Not that she ever asked for much. 

He thinks he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, so he’s always more than willing to get Y/N anything she pleased. But that’s the thing about her, she doesn’t ask for much. Give her cuddles and your time and she’s more than happy. That’s how Harry knows she’s meant for him. She’s simple, and Harry loves simple. Harry loves her. 


Harry can’t quite recall at around what time he’s been falling asleep at nights. After that first night, he only knows he’s been falling asleep to memories of Y/N.  

During the days he stares at the TV mindlessly, jumping at the sound of his phone in hopes it would be Y/N. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed to see it was Louis, or Niall, or Liam. On occasion his mum who by some reason or another knew what was going on. Don’t get him wrong, he loves talking to his mum, he just rather wishes it were Y/N.

“Harry, sweetheart-” and he could hear the hurt in her voice. That tone a mother gets when they know nothing they say or do can help a suffering child. “-don’ give up, baby. You fight for her, you hear me.” And Harry will pinch at his lower lip in an attempt to keep his voice steady before assuring his mother that “I won’t mum. I love her." 

The boys come around as often as they did before. And after asking why Y/N wasn’t around anymore, Harry told them "she’s apparently datin’ some bloke. I’ve not heard from her. Won’t return m'calls.”

He’s tried to reach out to her plenty of times. He’s called, texted, stopped by her place, all to no avail. 

And Louis doesn’t remember seeing Harry this down over a girl. “Tha’s shit, mate. She spends every wakin’ moment with ye’ and somehow still meets someone? Reckon ye’ would’ve taken notice, ehh?" 

"Cheryl thinks there’s something else going on,” Liam adds, “says a woman knows when a friend has feelings for a guy. And she says Y/N never quiet looked at you as just a friend.”

Harry would much rather believe this than keep thinking about Y/N doing what she did with Harry with someone else. But he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, because if by any chance she did like him, she wouldn’t have left him.
And it’s awful knowing he doesn’t know when he’ll see her again. All he knows, is that he’s not giving up.


After sulking around for what feels like an eternity, Harry’s gathered up enough strength to pull himself out of where he was staying and into the busy city that is NYC. 

He’s arrived here only a few days ago for business, hasn’t even told Y/N seeing as she won’t answer his calls.

So he pushes thoughts of her to the back of his mind, or at least tries to. And thankfully, the fans he’s just recently met did a good job of distracting him. But only for a moment when he was interacting and taking photos with them.  

And it’s times like these that he doesn’t take for granted. He loves making his fans happy. Loves getting to thank them personally. And though he’s able to keep all thoughts focused on who he’s talking with, the second he walks away to get on with his night and readjusts the scarf she gifted him two Christmas’ ago, is the moment he feels his eyebrows knit in focus, recalling another memory.


If there’s ever any situation for Harry to be protective, it’s now! He doesn’t know how he’s ended up at the park near Y/N’s. Doesn’t remember if he walked or drove. All he knows is that he was lying about in his room when he got a call from her. And hearing her frantic voice going on about how she thought she was being followed had him running out the door before she could tell him where she was.

“Just please, Harry. Stay on the phone with me.” She was whispering and stuttering and her voice was shaky and Harry. Was. Scared. 

Like hell he was gonna just stay put.

So now here he is, phone still to his ear whispering words of comfort. “Where are ye’?” “S'okay, poppet, you’re g'na be okay.” “I promise.”

And then suddenly the worst thing that could happen. He’s got no idea what’s going on, but the rush has him forgetting he’s wearing nothing but sweats and a thin tee in below freezing weather.

He tucks his phone in his pocket.There’s no point, their phone call got cut and all he heard before it did was a man’s voice and her muffled one.

He’s running. Where to, he’s got no clue.

It’s not until he hears a cut scream that he knows exactly where she is. Now. He’s angry.

“Get the fook of a'her!" 

The guy doesn’t even get a chance to turn around and look at him before Harry’s big hands collide with the stranger’s back, gripping at his shirt and yanking him back and to the ground.

He looks at Y/N only for a second, still tucked into the corner the bloke had her in, eyes full of fright.

And honest Harry doesn’t train for these type of situations, but he must admit the boxing sessions are useful in this precise moment. All it took was a right hook to the guy’s face. That was enough to have him falling to the ground again, this time a mouth full of blood. And Harry knows. Y/N knows. He’s gonna have the outline of Harry’s rings imprinted on the side of his face for a while. 

Within seconds Harry’s attention was back on Y/N. Fingers ghosting over her face because he doesn’t know if she’s hurt. But she wraps her arms around his torso and clenches at the fabric of his shirt, face tucked into his neck. Harry exhales into her hair and wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her against his body as he closes his eyes. 

"M'here. I’ll always be here.” He whispers. 

And Harry knows he can’t ever let this happen again. He won’t. 

But how can he protect her when she won’t let him? 

How can he, when the first time he sees her since that night is by the hand of someone else. 

And…what is she doing in New York?


anonymous asked:

Do you have any recommendations for free videos by trainers online? YouTube videos or whatnot.

Training Positive is my favourite trainer on YouTube. He doesn’t upload anymore, but his videos are all solid and easy to follow.

Kikopup is my second choice. She covers a huge variety of behaviours and some behaviour modification.

Denise Fenzi often posts videos on her blog to demonstrate what she’s discussing. The videos alone aren’t necessarily that useful, but her blog is incredibly valuable as a training resource.

Avatar the Last Airbender: Mai [ESFP]

OFFICIAL TYPING BY: mysterylover123

Extroverted Sensing (Se): Mai is always trying to find something to alleviate her boredom in the moment. She’s highly conscious of her physical situation, and often complaining about it. She requires high levels of activity to be satisfied, usually physical activities like beating people up, using her deadly aim to precisely throw her vast collection of knives to defeat enemies, or lounging about with Zuko ordering luscious desserts. She tends to act on the whim of the moment with little thought for the future consequences of her actions, such as when she refuses to jump in the wall-sludge juice even though Azula might cruelly punish her in the future for this disobedience.

Introverted Feeling (Fi): Mai’s emotions are a secret she alone keeps. She doesn’t talk much about how much she cares for Zuko, but instead demonstrates that love through her actions. She usually bottles up her emotions and keeps up a frowning, cold demeanor. She doesn’t like to have her feelings made public or discussed in general, and only opens up and expresses herself when around her closest friends. Deep down, she’s passionately devoted to Zuko, and her brother Tom Tom, and willing to lay down her life for them; even after Zuko hurts her, she’s loyal towards him to the end.

Extroverted Thinking (Te): Mai is quick to leap into action and get things done. She gets some enjoyment out of bossing people around and setting the rules for how things are to be done. She needs logical proof before she’ll accept something (“I don’t believe in auras.”). She’s also blunt and rude with her criticisms and complaints about the things around her, disregarding politeness or feelings in order to deliver her logical summation of things.

Introverted Intuition (Ni): Mai doesn’t plan for the future much, or even consider the consequences of her actions in general beyond the moment. She did hold on to her love for Zuko for quite some time, even after he was banished and regarded as a traitor. She doesn’t have much imagination and rarely draws much of a conclusion from what she sees, or forms expectations about what will happen.

anonymous asked:

Ooh any headcanons about the big three kids?

Thalia - oh my goooood. I have a bigger crush on her then on Piper fucking McLean which is Saying Something. Homegirl is an expert at leading your local moon girls gang. Secretly the mom friend (courtesy of Jason age 1-3, and later due to finding a dirty Annabeth hiding in a moldy cardboard box) but is incredibly aggressive about. She finds out you haven’t eaten yet today? Will slam down a plate and glare at you until it’s basically licked clean. Has threatened her fellow Artemis girls into pulling out their winter boots weeks early. Has a crayon drawing down by the renowned artist Jason Grace. age 2 somewhere around the Zeus cabin (under one of the floorboards - it wasn’t a great reminder when she briefly lived there alone)

Jason - Such. a. goddamn. nerd. how the fuck did this loser score piper “babe” mclean?? science is still discussing. checks in on di Angelo once a week, has meetings with Solace about Nico’s slowly improving health. President of the di Angelo protection squad. Will sneak out of camp to get his girl a vegan-whatever-the-hell smoothie from the local jumba juice (around an two hour walk from camp, half hour fly) just because she’s craving it. breaks his glasses 2x a month, they have duplicates automatically shipped to camp now. Once saw an Ares kid bullying one of the new campers and Saw. Red. When he came to, he had bruised knuckles, Nico was laughing hysterically, and Will was checking the guys vitals. Dude was fine, but Nico retold the story for weeks and dude never messed with anyone again while Jason was around. 

Percy - oh my GOD. Percy fucking Jackson. Leans against walls to look cool but completely misses them. Tries to pick flowers for Annabeth and accidentally causes a passive-aggressive turf war with the local nymphs (and has to send Grover in with a peace present of soil enhancer packets Sally found for him) 10000% cried the first time he met his little sister. When she’s old enough, she’ll trace the many, many scars that adorn our boy and ask about them and he won’t hesitate to pull out the most elaborate, most creative heroic tales on how he got them (which….happen to be completely false. not because our boy isn’t a hero, hell no, but because sometimes you can’t explain some things to a child, much less to a child who looks at you with stars in her eyes when you hold up water bubbles during bath time. but dont worry - when she’s older, Annabeth will not hesitate to inform Percy’s family on how much of a hero our boy is) 

Nico - my bb. my son. getting better but still has his angst days where someone will whisk him off into the sunset. usually works but hey, sometimes you just need to sit in the dark for awhile, and he doesn’t even fight it anymore when Will will join him and nap or Jason will play on his DS or Hazel draws quietly in the corner or even Percy occasionally will just sit with him in the dark (because….yeah. after tartarus, sometimes you just need…..quiet. you need to hold you hands over your eyes and breath and listen to the sounds of a summer camp outside and just keep reminding yourself that you’re here, not there, and the coolness on your skin is from darkness and air conditioning and not from death). it’s…nice. knowing he’s not alone. knowing that Jason cursing over the bright screen of his game, or Hazel smiling softly as her pencil slides over paper, or Will’s soft snores and heavy breathing at his side, or just Percy’s quiet presence at his side, that this, that them isn’t something that’s going to disappear when he wakes up in a cold sweat tomorrow morning. 

Hazel - Jason may be the president of the di Angelo protection squad but Hazel’s the goddamn founder. Spends any & all free time in the stables, either just grooming or sometimes drawing the animals. Drags Percy in there to talk to them for her, because yeah, that’s still so cool. Frank brings her PBJs whenever she misses lunch in order to finish a drawing and she honestly thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever even if she doesn’t even like peanut butter that much, she beams while she eats the entire thing. Cries when it’s time to return to New Rome, makes Nico promise on bi-weekly messages (and Nico swears to teach her how to Iris-message even? though? it’s? literally? just? a? rainbow?) I have this weird thought that she really enjoys mood-changing colored nail polish idk

The Girl Who Never Dances

Series: Little Witch Academia

Characters: Amanda & Diana

Words: 1,460

Genres: General, Romance (?)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to try writing these two for a while now. I love the princess–delinquent dynamic so much. This is just set in another Luna Nova dance/banquet in general. Since we didn’t get to see Amanda in her dress in the show, I put her in it here.

————–

The Girl Who Never Dances


Amanda’s lost count of how many dances and banquets Luna Nova has held over the past four months. But at every single one of them, there’s something she notices.

Or rather, someone

She’s always alone, too, which Amanda never would’ve expected from her at these kind of things. After all, it was expected that the prestigious Diana Cavendish would be having the time of her life at such cordial events, showing off her charisma and charm every time the opportunity presented itself. 

But each and every time without fail, Amanda has noticed she never does such things. 

Keep reading

do you think shiro has woken up from nightmares in the middle of the night and has roamed the castles to clear his head only to find allura either in the training room practicing with her staff or practicing magic, but he’s never really been able to go up to her and tell her she needs to sleep bc he’s too ashamed that he woke up and doesn’t want to explain why he woke up

and basically what i’m saying is do you think maybe the iconic hand touch scene was him finally being able to tell her she needs to take a break 

just another arya and dany parallel:

both are thrown into environments where they don’t speak the language. dany joins the dothraki where she is lost and alone. she cannot even speak to her new husband. but she has irri, a girl her own age, to teach her to speak their tongue. this helps her grow more confident among her new people. 

arya arrives in braavos and is instantly scared by the prospect of being friendless and unable to communicate in a foreign city. the waif becomes arya’s language teacher and *appears* to be of age with her. arya perfects her braavosi by living among the people while also learning several more tongues. 

It was gray and some rain thing. The car’s wipers had trouble giving us clear vision and everything was soppy, muddled, and splayed. I had fallen asleep and had my cheek pressed to the window as she drove. It was cold only in the way that windows hold cold and I let the glass before me fog up and clear, fog up and clear, fog up – 

It’s heartbreaking to return to your hometown in the rain. You have to be more attentive. Everything seems foreign and sapped of detail like a hard to find memory. There are surprises and hidden things you never really had to think about before and all the things you relied on some years ago are gone, covered up, or wrong. All this makes you feel age and you’re glad you don’t have to do this trip alone.

She wanted to be married. There was a five year plan and now there isn’t. Her boy that she’d loved since college gradually turned into a squingy man who had simplified his life to a three part routine of alcohol, sleep, and some work following a few heavy bouts with depression. Last I’d seen him we were sharing a gin before the movie theater while waiting for the girls and he mentioned the one distinction he couldn’t help but reminding me of again and again. He’d tell me that there is a difference between wanting to die and being suicidal. You can want to die and not be suicidal. You can be both. You can be neither. You don’t have to be both. I told him I understood. Then the girls came and we picked a movie.

She’s not with him anymore. She mentioned that she left in the worst of it. There was obvious guilt when she described why she left. She tried harder to convince than to portray. When people speak in this way, they lean forward to find some support or reaction. They’re also more emotive. They’re spilling out from themselves. It was like that fucking rain.

During the drive she said that people aren’t supposed to love everything that they love. She said things are never fair and that she didn’t really understand that until our friend’s wedding and there were people dancing, eating, laughing. She said all she thought about were how she wanted to forget this day like so many other days because it brought up thoughts that she had tried so hard to ignore so that she could love him in the way that she had thought she should love him. She said at that point she felt that she didn’t want to know anyone anymore and that she didn’t want to do anything anymore. And oh god, she’d said. That was when she knew that things are never fair and that some people aren’t supposed to love everything they love. She moved out that night. She said that he didn’t even come out from the room to see her leave. He probably couldn’t. She crashed at my place and she slept through an entire day.

We pulled into her mother’s. I had not been here in years. The rain wasn’t letting up so we decided to unload the truck later. We carried some of the bags containing clothes and such. We sat by the heater letting ourselves dry while her mother heated some soup.

Later, she showed me her old bedroom. Her mom hadn’t changed anything. There were unframed pictures stuck up everywhere. There was one of me skinny and not really knowing how to smile. There were posters, awards and trophies, trinkets from travel, a map of Europe with little stars in cities she’d been, and even an old iPod that still worked. She played this song that we’d heard together in high school in the backyard of some friend’s home while sharing earbuds from this same iPod. 

I looked at my friend. I didn’t know what to say or tell her. I felt bad that so many of the promises we thought we had with life when we were young just turned out to be some misunderstanding. We sat side by side on her small twin sized bed listening to old music we used to love and forgot. We stared out the window to the wind and the rain. I felt age. I felt it come and go, disappear and glow, and youth flowering from all the lingering bits of it that they couldn’t shake off.

To fit

Lucy’s fingers curled around the door handle as she pulled the key from the lock.  She turned her wrist, then paused.

Alex had given her the key the previous week but Lucy had yet to use it when she was alone, when the apartment wasn’t empty.

When her girlfriends were home.

Her girlfriends — girlfriends, girlfriends, a part of her was still trying to catch up to that development — were on the other side of the door.

Her girlfriends — girlfriends — who had already been together for months before she had shown up, who were steady and adorable and so very in love.

Her girlfriends who were probably asleep, cuddled together on the bed, and probably didn’t need her to intrude.

She could go back to her place, and they would never know.  

Lucy shook her head.

She had to stop thinking like that.  It wasn’t Alex and Maggie plus her.  It was Alex, Maggie, and her.

She had every right to enter the apartment.

They would want her to.

Lucy pushed the door open, slowly, carefully, stopping it right before it hit the angle where it let out a squeak.  She slid through the opening, and closed the door behind her.

And stopped.

All of the lights in the apartment were off, the curtains all closed, but the TV cast a soft glow, revealing Alex and Maggie on the couch.

Lucy stared at them — Maggie’s head in Alex’s lap, Alex’s hand draped over Maggie’s waist, both asleep.

Lucy’s stomach clenched even as her heart swelled.

The sight was warm, and soft, and more domestic than she had ever thought possible of either woman.

And, yet, Lucy couldn’t see how she fit.

Alex and Maggie were so solid, so devoted, so right for each other.

Did she really have a place with them?

Maybe it would be better to end this early, before they realized they they were better off like this, better off with just the two of them.

Lucy reached behind her, searching for the door handle.

She should just leave, go back to the DEO, talk to them in the morning, make sure they really…

“Luce?”

Maggie was raising her head, squinting against the glow from the TV.

Lucy’s hand closed around the handle, then let go and gripped the back of her blouse instead.  She waited for Maggie to ask what she was doing, why she was there.  She waited for the confirmation of every thought streaming through her head.

Instead, Maggie smiled, soft and wide, her dimples visible even in the dim light.  She jerked her head, gesturing for Lucy to come closer, to join them.

Lucy’s heart jumped into her throat.  She stared at Maggie for a moment longer, then set her bag down and slipped her shoes off.  She put her cover on the island, and lay her blouse next to it.

She circled around the back of the couch to take the rest of her uniform off and lay it on the bed.  Maggie nudged Alex awake, whispering Lucy’s here up to her.

Alex let out a sleepy yay that curled in Lucy’s stomach, easing away some of the tension.

Lucy stripped quickly, then pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, both too big for her.

Her steps back were slow, the uncertainty rising back up.  She stopped a few feet from the couch.

Alex had fallen back asleep, the arm that had been around Maggie crossed over her own waist instead.  Maggie was watching the TV screen, blinking slowly at the muted scene playing.

Neither of them had actually moved.

Before Lucy could really think about it, Maggie bent her neck back to look at her.

“C’mere,” Maggie murmured, holding a hand out.

Lucy stepped forward, taking the hand, and letting herself be pulled down.  After a few moments of maneuvering, she was cocooned in her girlfriends warmth, wedged between Maggie and the couch, using Maggie’s shoulder as a pillow while Maggie’s head resting on Alex’s lap.

Lucy was already drifting off as Maggie’s arm wrapped around her and the tension in her stomach finally relaxed.

Backup Singer x Damon Salvatore

based on the following prompt : Person A met Person B walking to their dorm room. Person A was singing Everybody (Backstreet’s Back) in the hall when Person B bursts out of their dorm room wearing nothing but undergarments, completely drunk to sing the backup.


Whenever [Y/N] was alone in the Salvatore house, she took the chance to blast the songs she secretly loved a bit too much. Her playlist consisted of nineties songs, like ‘The Spice Girls’, songs from ‘Aqua’ and, of course, ‘The Backstreet Boys’. She hated to admit that she knew every song by heart, but the nineties weren’t exactly Stefan and Damon’s favorite years of the music industry.
So, now that she was alone, she was shamelessly dancing around, using the upstairs of the house as her personal dancefloor. She slid across the wooden floor on her socks, while singing loudly along to the music.
But then Everybody by the Backstreet Boys came on, and [Y/N] went wild. She ran towards her room where the stereo was blasting out the songs, turned the volume up even more, and started to some sort of dance routine that should look like the one from the boyband itself.
When she was jamming along to the chorus, and just sang ‘everybody’, she heard a loud ‘yeaaah’ from behind her. She immediately turned around, and saw Damon standing there, at the top of the stairs, dangerously swaying back and forth, while holding an half empty bottle of bourbon.
[Y/N] stood there, eyes wide since he was only wearing his underwear (she didn’t knew why and had a feeling she didn’t want to know). It was kinda awkward since Damon was staring right back, while the Backstreet Boys were still singing very loudly.
‘Don’t leave me hanging there! I volunteer as your backup singer, and now you’re acting all like Justin Timberlake, or whatever his face was.’ Damon laughed, finally stepping away from the stairs, his underwear dangerously low on his hips, and the bottle of bourbon against his lips.
[Y/N] decided that it was for the best to not question a drunk vampire and kept on singing, a bit less loud now and not that outrageous as earlier. But Damon? Oh, he didn’t hold back. He quickly caught up, singing the whole song, even the backing vocals, while dancing wildly, the bourbon spilling over the edge because he was so carelessly.
And then the song was over, and [Y/N] decided that Damon was way too drunk to be doing this. He must have had at least a whole bottle to become this drunk. [Y/N] turned off the stereo, but Damon kept on dancing and shaking his bottle around.
‘Eh, Damon?’ [Y/N] carefully asked, keeping her distance, just because.
‘Yes, princess?’ Damon said, still swaying as if he was still hearing music. And in his drunken head, he probably was.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, I’m dandy, thanks for asking.’ He gave [Y/N] a bride smile, and took another sip from his bottle.
‘So, that’s why you’re drinking away all your problems?’ She laughed, softly shaking her head. She never understood the way Damon dealt with things, since getting drunk was his way of ‘fixing things’.
‘I am drinking so I wouldn’t have to think about them. So I highly suggest we talk about something else.’ Damon gave her that smile, and she knew she had to stop talking about it.
‘Can I ask one more question?’ She nervously bit her bottom lip.
‘I don’t know, because –‘
‘Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?’ She interrupted him.
‘Okay, that’s a question I will answer,’ he laughed, pointing at [Y/N] and then walking across the room so he stood just a few inches from her. He smiled, took another sip and then looked at her. ‘Blood. That’s why.’
[Y/N] nervously gulped, while Damon was really enjoying this way too much.
‘Okay, I don’t even need to know,’ she finally gave up.
‘If you’d like, I can take this off too.’ Damon grinned, pulling at his underwear.
‘Eh, no, that’s all right.’ [Y/N] smiled, reaching out for his hand and pushing it away from his underwear. ‘And I think you had enough of that.’ [Y/N] tried to reach for the bottle of alcohol, but, of course, Damon was quicker than her and quickly got it out of her reach.
‘I don’t think I nearly had enough. I was planning on drinking another bottle, just to be sure that the problem is completely solved.’ He gave her a crooked smile, and, as if he was challenging her, took another gulp from the bottle.
‘Don’t be like that,’ [Y/N] sighed, trying to reach for the bottle, but it was useless. Damon grinned again and was now cornering [Y/N] , against the wall.
‘You want this?’ He asked, with a cocky smile and held the bottle right before her face. ‘Well, that’s too bad, because you’re not getting it.’
‘Are you sure about that? Because maybe I wanted to have a drink.’ [Y/N] slowly tried to reach for the bottle again, but Damon wouldn’t have it.
‘That’s too bad. Get your own bottle.’ He laughed and walked away from her, giving [Y/N] some breathing space. It wasn’t really helping that he still was in nothing but his underwear.
And his body was very distracting, that was just a fact.
‘But I can give you something else,’ Damon slowly started, placing the now nearly empty bottle on a side table and walking towards [Y/N] again. He softly pushed her against the wall, smiling at her. ‘And it’s even better than alcohol.’ He whispered. [Y/N] felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore. This wasn’t the first time things got … heated between the two of them. But it never had went this far. Damon looked in [Y/N] ’s eyes, and when he had found whatever he was looking for, he placed his lips harshly on hers.
Hands were everywhere, while the room seemed to get hotter with every moment passing by. But it probably was just the two of them that got hotter.
And then [Y/N] ’s playlist started to play again, brutally interrupting their moment. Damon sighed, but then laughed.
‘You do have a horrible taste in music.’
‘Hey!’ [Y/N] protested, but laughed along with Damon.
‘So,’ He said, grinning. ‘changed your mind about me taking off my underwear?’

anonymous asked:

Pregnancy headcanons for Kiyoko, Yachi and Saeko please?

Okay soooo since Admin Emma over at @hq-cuties-pls has officially announced her pregnancy I feel like I can properly answer this now since I’m using her experience heavily as a reference - Admin Dad

Kiyoko 

  • One of those women that has the legendary female empowerment pregnancy (like Beyonce). She has that stereotypical pregnant “glow.” 
  • Never complains about her nausea or back pain, because even though she’s a glowing fertility goddess that first trimester is still rough
  • She mostly suffers from exhaustion and can accidentally fall asleep whenever she’s sitting for prolonged periods of time. She took an accidental trip up the coast due to konking out on the bus one day. 
  • As mild and ideal as her pregnancy was, labor comes hard and when she’s alone. Kiyoko will fight through the pain and get herself to the hospital with enough time to spare like the boss she is. But once she’s in that hospital bed all bets are off and the screaming can begin. 
  • After labor when she’s holding her baby she’ll laugh and kiss them musing how the whole experience wasn’t so bad in the end.

Saeko

  • The exact opposite of Kiyoko when it comes to complaining. Her boobs are itching and you’re gonna know about it. 
  • Her already large breasts are going to grow beyond her control. By the end of her pregnancy she’s wearing makeshift cloth bras from cut oversized t-shirts, and she doesn’t give a single fuck if her boobs pop out. 
  • Her hormones are completely out of control. Not only is forgetful pregnancy brain running rampant, not only is she crying at the drop of a hat, but her sex drive is through the roof. 
  • Saeko definitely goes through an existential crisis when it sinks in that she’s going to be a mom. At one point in the third trimester she tries to leave, just leave and quit. But when the baby comes all her worry disappears
  • Immediately after giving birth Saeko has her s/o bring her sushi. And after baby eats for the first time and they’re back from the hospital, she’s definitely cracking open a beer.

Yachi 

  • Poor Yachi is nearly inconsolable when she finds out she’s pregnant–because she’s a nervous wreck. She’s convinced that vending machine coffee drink she had four days before she took the test has irreparably damaged the embryo and she needs to be talked down
  • Yachi is the most adherent to the rules of pregnancy books and guidelines and follows them to a T. Even if she has an unbelievable craving for just a spoonful of cookie dough, she’ll take the tears over risking any complications 
  • She’s also horrified at first when she has the unusual (or really, less advertised) side effects of pregnancy, like excess saliva production and a metallic taste in her mouth. After a minor freak out and intense research session, she finally calms down.
  • She doesn’t gain much weight anywhere on her body aside from her stomach, making her look like a child who stuffed a watermelon up their shirt.
  • Late third trimester Yachi turns feisty and occasionally downright mean, and everyone is terrified of her during labor. Yachi falls head over heels in love with her baby and the two take a little hospital nap together. 

sparklewaltz  asked:

@ anon w/ the crying sister, i will Personally come to your house and kick ur parents. i have a severe learning disorder and cry when i attempt math that i cant understand so i know exactly how your sister feels. maybe tell her that shes not alone in not being able to understand certain thing like this, and that other people cry over it too. if you can understand the math she cant understand, maybe try to walk her through it? try explaining as simply as possible! good vibes to her

Diane is very insecure about her body, because she is a very social person who suffers a lot when she’s alone, and with her height people tend to be afraid of her or try to attack/drive her away, since giants have a pretty bad reputation between the humans.

Despite this, Diane still tries her damn best to be as unintimidating as possible to get the humans to accept her, since they are the only race she could actually hope to befriend, because her beliefs are very different from the giants’, which lead her to run away, she can’t befriend anyone from the goddess or the demon clan for obvious reasons, and the fairies tend to keep to themselves a lot.

She’s literally willing to let herself be shamed and insulted if that is what it takes for people to understand that she doesn’t mean any harm and just wants to be friends.

When she found out the matango could shrink her she was happy, obviously, because that was a temporal solution to her problem, if she was human sized then no one would reject her, right? But this isn’t the good solution to her problem, because she isn’t a human, she’s a giant, this is not what she is, and on the long run it won’t make her happy.

Instead of changing her body to be accepted, she has to learn to accept and love herself the way she is, there are more than enough people who already love her for what she is. King himself said that he thinks she’s perfect, no matter how big or small she is. He already loves everything about her and accepts her, that’s the most important thing in a healthy relationship and it’s beautiful.

Diane doesn’t need to change, she already is perfect and beautiful and if someone doesn’t accept that they just aren’t worthy of her.