so he wrote me a letter

bang pd nim more like min yoongi bs&t era 50 years later ((@ anyone who’s reblogging this i am nOt making fun of him cmon im going emo all over the tags;_;))

haihaihaihaihaihaihaihaihai  asked:

Regarding the soundtrack for S4, I've noticed a new motif that originated in TST, a sombre violin piece that begins at 1:13 on track 6 'Running Away', used for the scene where John reads the letter Mary wrote about running away. So naturally I assumed this was Mary's theme, until today when I heard it again in TLD (track 7 of the TLD soundtrack 'No Charges' at 0:45), but slowed down. The scene in TLD is where John hits Sherlock, so it has nothing to do with Mary. What may we deduce of this?

Hi Lovely! 

Here’s “Running Away”:

And here’s “No Charges”

What struck me first of all, on Running Away, WAS THE GODDAMNED VIOLIN. A lot of us speculate that Mary’s letter is ACTUALLY Sherlock’s letter that he wanted to write to John when he left him at TRF. Alright, stay with me here for a second: Sherlock writes his “love songs” on violin, and they’re always melancholy and ALWAYS for John (sorry, but Irene’s Theme is FOR JOHN); I think this is ACTUALLY meant to represent Sherlock’s character and his pining for John, his apology for leaving him. It’s also tightly intermingled with hints of John’s theme sped up in it as well.

Then, in No Charges, you are correct – it’s DOES bear a terribly striking resemblance to Running Away, just played an octave or semi-octave down or on a different scale. Which causes it to sound SADDER. Because now Sherlock feels like he is getting what he deserves for leaving John, doomed to a life of infinite sadness and loneliness. Technically, it’s also relating to Mary since they are discussing Mary in that scene, but yes, I do honestly believe anything played by the violin in ANY of the soundtracks are a reflection of Sherlock’s feelings.

God I actually cried writing this. I hadn’t had the chance yet to listen to S4′s soundtrack, so I’m glad I got to for this. 

If you’re interested, there’s interesting meta about the entirety of the S4 music here by @holmesianscholar!

The Hausmates as stuff my bf did
  • Bitty: came to school in bright pink pajamas with little dancing zebras on them just because
  • Jack: Got me sunflowers during February bc he is just that extra
  • Holster: put a flower in his mouth chewed on it then tried to kiss me (it was our first date)
  • Ransom: teared his meniscus while twerking
  • Lardo: chased ducks and fell into the pond trying to catch them
  • Shitty: Got so high that, when he wanted to kiss me at the cinema, he leaned to the wrong side and kissed a stranger on the cheek instead
  • Dex: Once went on a two page long rent about the German train system during an exam
  • Nursey: befriended every bus driver he knows and has not paid for a bus ticket in five years
  • Chowder: still draws little sun's into the corners of letters he sends to people
  • Tango: Once wrote the pope a letter asking him to be his prom date
  • Whiskey: once used all his money to drunkenly buy two life sized stone gargoyles
Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.
___________________________________

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.

“For.”

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Reasons why I love every SVT member

I have laughed AN D CRIED a lot because of this fine group. I’m sure many others can relate to that.
I would like to take some time to appreciate and note the members individually because they all deserve the world, thanks.
(Prepare yourselves, I wrote lots???? Like…. lots.

S.Coups:

Some might say that Seungcheol isn’t fit to be in charge of the group. Well let me tell ya baby boyz why he most certainly is. S. Coups naturally has that fatherly type of image. Like “dad of the year” award type of fatherly. There is something about him that influences others to feel protected. He genuinely cares for all of the members and keeps everyone’s emotions in line. It takes a special kind of person to do that. One incident that spoke volumes to me was how he handled “Seventeen Project.” He knew when things were starting to take a negative turn and he wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions. (In a calm and rational way). BOI I CRIED. Despite the put-together (and sometimes tough) image he projects, he’s a rather sensitive person. The reason why he’s so supportive is because he longs for support himself. I think being in Seventeen has made him feel a sense of belonging. The mans has done a wonderful job and he deserves respect. I don’t think there is anyone else meant to be leader.  

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  • Teacher: So, who knows John Laurens?
  • Me: * puts hand in the air *
  • Teacher: Can you tell us something about him?
  • Me: well.. he was a lieutenant and he established the first all black battalion. He was a close friend of Alexander Hamilton's, one of the founding fathers of america. Like... a REALLY close friend. Like, take your definition of close and multiply it by 1000. They wrote each other these lov-.... these letters in which they expressed their affections. And so they were close friends. John was not interested in women according to this father. Did I mention his friend, Alexander Hamilton?

Just Hamilton Things

Recently, I’ve been reading Ron Chernow’s ‘Alexander Hamilton’ biography, and there’s a few things in there I find note-worthy. (If you’re as obsessed with Hamilton as I am, I do recommend reading this book. It is, after all, the foundation on which Lin-Manuel Miranda built ‘Hamilton’ and it gets into a lot of depth about Ham’s life. The excessive amount of research done for this book amazes me. I applaud you Ron Chernow.)

  • One time during the war, civilians in Broadway tore down a large statue of King George then melted it down and made 42,088 bullets, a fact which I find, for some reason, utterly savage
  • It’s no wonder people thought Hamilton and Laurens were gay, the letters they wrote to each other, primarily, the letters Hamilton wrote to Laurens… ah, I’ll just leave the examples down below

Hamilton to Laurens: “Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it might be in my power by action rather than words to convince you that I love you.”

Not enough for you? But wait, the letter goes on to say later:

You should have not taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent.”

Another one from Hamilton to Laurens: “I have written you five or six letters since you left Philadelphia and I should have written you more had you made a proper return,”

Looks like Ham is being clingy. He even admits to it:

“But, like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued.”

After his engagement to Eliza, he writes to Laurens again saying:

“In spite of Schuyler’s (Eliza’s) black eyes, I have still a part for the public and another for you.”

  • Hamilton made dick jokes. He wrote to Laurens about finding a wife making bawdy references to ‘the size of his nose’.… his dick, guys. He was talking about his dick.
  • Before their famous duel in 1804, Burr was so broke, he asked even Hamilton for help. (Note, they already hated each other at the time.)  Burr came to Hamilton early in the morning and you can imagine the awkwardness of the situation. Like, “Hey bro,  did I wake you? Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, I know we hate each other and stuff, but could you like, help me out here, since you’re so good with money and shizzz?”
    The best part was, Hamilton did help, and managed to raise 10,000 dollars in cash for Burr…… and still Burr shot him. Savage.
  • Hamilton impressed Adams’ cabinet and there was a conversation that went a little something like this
    Adams: Whom shall we appoint Commander-In-Chief?
    Pickering: Hamilton
    Adams: lol no, pick someone else
    Pickering: But sirrrr, Hamilton is fully qualified-
    Adams: NOT HAMILTON.
  • While the Reynolds affair was going on and Eliza was away, Hamilton wrote letters urging her to stay far, far away from home as he was “greatly concerned for her health”. Yeahhhh. Riiiiight. You two-faced little LIAR.
  • To make the above worse, Eliza, despite the affair, did remain wholly devoted to Hamilton. In fact, when she was old, she is supposed to have said, “I am so tired, it is long, I want to see Hamilton.”
    IT’S OKAY ELIZA, I DIDN’T NEED MY HEART ANYWAY
  • Okay, last fact to wrap things up. After Burr shot Hamilton in the duel, he showed no remorse for it, he took the entire event with a touch of humor. Burr is supposed to have made facetious references to, “my friend Hamilton, whom I shot.” What a savage.
Ok so

I’ve been making a version of ‘What The Heck I Gotta Do’ from 21 Chump Street, but it’s with John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton. It’s really bad, but >.

(This is merely a cover. It’s really bad, but I might sing it. It’s to the tune of ‘What The Heck I Gotta Do’, duh. It’s also not finished.)

Washington: The plan was called ‘The Battle of Yorktown.’ And on of the militias included in the plan was under my command, and held a kid named John Laurens.

John Laurens: That’s me!

Washington: He was an 22 year old rights activist.

Laurens: Freedom for all, man-

Washington: He was finishing up his training when a handsome boy showed up.

Laurens: Alexander!

Washington: He was a great debater-

[Lau., Laf., Mul.,] Alexander!

Washington: He was hired as my aide, John soon followed,

[Lau., Laf., Mul.,] Alexander!

Washington: His last name was-

[John Laurens, Lafayette, Hercules Mulligan,] Hamilton!

Washington: Laurens, what drew you to Alexander initially?

Laurens: Oh, he wrote all the time! He was a kid from the Caribbean, long hair, mature in the mind, like, whoa,

[Laf., Mul.,] Like, whoa,

Laurens: That’s not the only reason I like him though, he said he moved here from Saint Kitt.,

[Laf., Mul.,] Where his dreams were spent,

Laurens: Well, I liked that. So, I said, 'Hi.’

Laurens: he seemed mature, so we talked more, [Laf., Mul., Burr] more, more, Laurens: and I was like, what the heck I gotta do to be with you? [Laf., Mul., Burr] what the heck I gotta do? Laurens: what the heck I gotta do to be with you? [Laf., Mul., Burr] what the heck I gotta do? Laurens: Tell me who I gotta be for you to be with me? Washington: you told him all of this? Laurens: no, I wrote him a letter!

(I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD HAHA)
(PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR THE LYRICS PLEASE)

WOWIE CONTINUATION
Burn (John Laurens vers.)

I heard somewhere that some of Lauren’s letters to Hamilton are missing and (in theory) have possibly been burned due to his family thinking it was too saucy and the world must know none of it.

So I rewrote the song Burn in Laurens’ point of view.

This is nothing about the Reynolds’ Pamphlet.
It may be also historically inaccurate since this is based on a theory that fills in the gaps of the missing letters.

I’m not good at writing, but I wanted to give this a shot :“>

Here goes!

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anonymous asked:

What did ted think about the fan mail he received or when girls would turn up to trials to see him?

He loved the attention during his trial, he was the superstar of his own show. He waved or winked to the girls. He received a lot of letters but answered to people he didn’t know only from time to time (which gave us this iconic letter ! ). He received all kind of letters though, from people with a mothering instinct to the extreme groupies like Janet (which gave us a good story shared in The Only Living Witness) :

Most worshipful was a woman named Janet, who began writing Bundy in the summer of 1979. He returned a single letter after going to Death Row, enough response from her hero to inspire Janet for months. In September, she wrote him, “I got the letter you sent me and read it again. I kissed it all over and held it to me. I don’t mind telling you I am crying. I just don’t see how I can stand it anymore. I love you so very much, Ted.
Janet sent him photographs of her and begged for pictures back. Her letters poured in. “I adore you and I just can’t stand not hearing from you,” she wrote. “It’s absolutely tearing me apart. You are so precious to me. I want you so much I can almost taste it. What I wouldn’t give to have an hour alone with you. I would show you in every way how much I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
Janet, who was married, was jealous of Carole. “I guess I should not be writing to you until I get a letter from you letting me know just where I stand,” she once ventured. Janet was willing to overlook Carole, even though “you can’t imagine how bad it hurts me and still is tearing my insides out.

(….)

Janet the letter writer came and started at him. Pale, with severely pulled-back hair, Janet sat smoldering for Ted. She apparently meant what she said in her love letters.
Dear Carole,” Ted wrote one day, “please do not sit in the same row with Janet. When I look over toward you, there she sits contemplating me with her mad eyes like a deranged seagull studying a clam. I can feel her spreading hot sauce on me already.

I feel like it’s impossible for me to explain how much I love Eliot Waugh. So let me start with some of his quotes.

“I bond fast. Time is an illusion.”

Quentin: If you’re trying to tell me that it gets better-
Eliot: Oh, God, no. It doesn’t. I’m trying to tell you, you are not alone here.

“I think something might really be…broken.”

“Becoming me was the greatest creative project of my life.”

“I know I said I didn’t need a family to become who I was supposed to be, but it turned out that I did. And it was you.”
—A letter Eliot wrote to Quentin

Dean Fogg: What were you expecting when you dove headfirst into that fountain?
Eliot: …I was expecting to die.

Eliot is so, so sad, and he is so, so tortured. By killing someone who made his life absolute hell, he discovered he was telekinetic. He had to kill someone else - someone he loved - to protect everyone else. He lost his two best friends for a period of time because of a stupid, under-the-influence decision he made, but the thing that killed him the most was the thought of losing Quentin - and only Quentin.

He threw himself - as his clay-made clone - in front of an attack directed at Quentin without even thinking about what could happen. He didn’t care what could happen to him. He threw himself in front of Quentin, in front of a fatal attack, as second nature. He didn’t care what happened to him, as long as Quentin was okay.

And, despite everything that happened, he still became the High King of Fillory. He will go down in Fillorian history as High King Eliot, The Spectacular, because that is what he is. Despite wanting to die. Despite the bad things that had happened to him. Despite all of that. He will still be known as one of the greatest Kings to rule over Fillory. And even though it is fictional, if that isn’t uplifting and if it doesn’t give you hope, there is something seriously wrong with you.

prislydawn  asked:

Okay angsty Lams situation

oohh my favorite, headcanon time

-After Alex’s wedding, Laurens gets super drunk

-Like, SUPER DRUNK

-He raises a glass to Alex and makes snarky remarks about how he’ll never see freedom again with Eliza and Alex just sits there laughing awkwardly and wondering what in the hell is up with his best friend

-Alex shoos him away so he can talk in private with Burr, so Laf and Herc pull him away and John immediately starts crying to them and they have to calm him down quick so he doesn’t make a big scene on Alex’s big day

-a few hours later John finds Alex again and pulls him away from Eliza and to the corner of the room where they can talk alone

-Alex is still weirded out by his friends behavior and is like “Hey, Jacky, maybe you should head home, you’re pretty out of it” and John just starts crying. 

-”Don’t you dare call me Jacky right now,” John mutters, “not now.”

-Alex is so confused. He’s a bit tipsy himself and high off of love for his new wife and he’s like, “John, you’re acting weird; let me find you a ride home.” 

-”I saved every letter you wrote me,” John whimpers pathetically and Alex’s heart stops. All at once he realizes why John is so upset and why he’s gotten so drunk he’s stumbling. His face goes pale and he grabs both of Johns arms.”No. John, no.”

-”From the moment I read them I knew you were mine,” he sobs and Alex’s heart breaks into a thousand shards. “Shh, hey, Jacky, shhh,” he tries to calm John down but John just sobs out a quiet “you said you were mine,” in response, hitting Alex’s chest with two open hands before collapsing into his arms and mumbling “I thought you were mine..”

was this too angsty I don’t know i’m tired

anonymous asked:

Can I request something? RFA + V & Saeran finding out MC has feelings for them.. but they don't feel the same way? ToT.

(。•́︿•̀。)


Yoosung

- You admitted it after a cute movie the two of you had watched. Little movie hang outs being a well-welcomed habit between the two of you

- But, as the words started pouring out, his expression turned so sad.

- “Mc… I really appreciate it, I do! I just… I don’t think we’d be good together.”

- Mr. Never-Had-A-Girlfriend was rejecting you, even after such flirting from before?

- When you asked him about that, he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look you in the eyes.

- “Well… I think I was just confusing my feelings for you. I realized I just really admired you instead, and it was never anything more than that.”

- He was still sweet enough to try cheering you up when you started crying a bit. He even went on to tell you that just because he didn’t return your feelings, that it didn’t mean no one liked you at all.

- (In fact Zen had been making some hints towards you)

- But even after all his kind words, the two of you slowly stopped hanging out. It was hard talking to each other, and sometimes difficult even being in the same room.

- You kept it simple in the chat, but after every time you met in person, it was hard not to have the tears well up again.

Zen

- You decided to mail him a cute romantic letter. That way when he picked up his fan mail, he’d have a nice surprise from you!

- It was so worrying writing the letter. You wrote it over about five times before you finally sent it- With a stamp and card that reminded you of him.

- So you waited a day or two, and then you finally received a call from him.

- “Heyyy, Mc,”

- You giggled and greeted him back. “Did you get my letter?”

- “I did, I did. That’s, uh. Why I called…

- His tone wasn’t what you were expecting, and you frowned while waiting for him to continue.

- “It’s a sweet letter, it really is, and it’s so thoughtful, but… Mc, I think you don’t really like me for me.”

- “…What do you mean?”

- “All this stuff you wrote- It’s exactly what my fans write about the characters I portray. It isn’t anything about the real me. Just the me up on stage. I’m sorry, Mc. I… I don’t think it would be good for us to go out together. I think you’d just be disappointed.

- Your heart snapped. You couldn’t help it- The sniffles coming from your end as he bounced around from trying to cheer you up, to explaining how it was for the best.

- But you couldn’t do it. You hung up on him.

- He didn’t even try calling back.

- From then on, any time he popped in while you were on the chat, you instantly logged off. Any time Jaehee got a bit too excited about his new plays, you popped off. Hell, even when Jumin let out a small complaint about Zen you found your chest constricting and needing to go cry privately.

- The parties were hard, but at least he was always swarmed by fans.

Jumin

- To see him, you had to work within his schedule. His busy, hectic, schedule.

- When you walked in after thanking Jaehee, you fumbled with your hands.

- “What were you needed to discuss? Was it about the next party? Any funds that are needed I’ll be willing to cover.”

- “No, no, it’s not about that.”

- He finally brought his head up from his paperwork, giving you a curious look.

- “Jumin, lately I’ve realized my feelings-”

- “I’m sorry, Mc, but no.”

- He… he didn’t give you a chance to even finish.

- “I’ve noticed for a while you had started acting like most women towards me, so I knew this day was coming, but no. Don’t worry, I’ll still talk to you. The RFA needs to continue the parties, anyway.”

- You stood awkwardly for a moment before nodding a bit and excusing yourself.

- You didn’t get on the chat for a few days, or even open up the app. When you did, you were greeted with so many texts.

- Of course Jumin had nonchalantly mentioned it! You felt so stupid, so childish.

- You couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore.

Seven

- He knew it as soon as you started bouncing jokes right back at him

- He knew it the moment you didn’t care he was pushing you away, the moment you promised to help him find his brother.

- He knew it, and it hurt so much.

- After the commotion died down, you had tied a note around the little cat robot he made for you, and had it surprise him one day. You thought it would be cute!

- You thought he liked you back.

- But suddenly you were spammed with on onslaught of messages.

- “I’m sorry, Mc, I’m so so sorry.”

- That was the basic summary of the messages. He felt so bad, you could tell from his texts, but he still couldn’t afford someone getting close to him. Not with his past.

- Not with his brother still having issues.

- “I love you, I do, just not like that. I won’t be able to ever love anyone like that.”

- You ended up getting rid of the stuff he had made for you, but you still kept the cat.

- At least it was able to cheer you up.

Jaehee

- While it was true she was into girls… She couldn’t bring herself to actually date one.

- The worries of being openly together, the worries of being attacked or yelled at… She couldn’t live that life, much less could she do that to you.

- When you admitted your feelings to her, with a cute cookie set that spelled it out, she felt her heart drop as she rejected you.

- It was for the best, you both knew it, but god that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

- She tried cheering you up, but what could she do?

- Everytime she was on the chat, you tried your best to converse with her, but it was clear to everyone you were still hurting

- She was still hurting

V

- You had made him such a cute and sweet letter in brail. He had recently fully learned it, something he was so proud of.

- So you mentioned you had a surprise and handed him your special letter.

- He was smiling at first, but as his fingers ran through the letter, his smile quickly faded.

- He ended up putting the letter to the side halfway through.

- “Mc… You know I still love her.”

- You were suddenly thankful he couldn’t see you that well. Your fists clenched, your eyes watered, and you even felt that familiar hot buildup of saliva in your mouth.

- You wanted to puke.

- “I know…I know feelings are so easy to catch, I know your feelings are most likely sincere. But I’m sorry. I can’t let go of her. I don’t think I ever can.”

- You put on a fake voice, smiling and trying to act like you understood.

- But how could he still be so blindly in love with someone who caused him so much pain?

- You didn’t visit him again after that. Jumin was a bit concerned, but after meeting with V again he knew.

- RFA parties were really awkward after that.

Saeran

- How could you have feelings for someone like him? How could you like someone who had killed people with his bare hands?

- The moment you handed him such a cutesy pink letter, he didn’t want to read it. You could see the apprehension etched on his face.

- When he crumpled up the letter, you realised maybe he wasn’t as recovered as he seemed.

- “You can’t handle me, mc, don’t even pretend that you can.”

- You tried to explain yourself a bit, not expecting him to get so upset, but that just made the issue worse.

- “I can’t trust you! You don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me, expect I’m the ‘poor person’ with a horrible childhood and I was taken in by some cult. Hell, my own brother doesn’t even know me yet. Why the hell do you think you know me?”

- You couldn’t talk, you just bit your lip and tried not to make your tears too obvious, but that failed when he threw your letter at you.

- “Get out of my sight.”

- Later on, when you finally managed to look at your phone, you saw so many texts from Seven, apologizing for Saeran’s behavior, but honestly… You knew he was right.

- You didn’t know him.

okay so this post is wrong but what the heck it’s a Tumblr post, right, it’s mostly a joke, only it’s so perfectly echoing an idea I’ve seen elsewhere too, from actual paid critics and academic critiques, that Hugo “wasn’t writing for emotional teenagers”, that he’d be horrified by fandom, that he was too High and Erudite for the likes of  screaming theater kids and emotional teenagers

y’all. Y’all. 

Victor Hugo knew what fandom was.  And he absolutely LOVED it. 

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the venus signs as  extracts I wrote

Aries:  As I was younger, I met a boy. Deep, deep in forest he lived in a cave, high up in the mountains. He was feared by his power, his long, sharp fangs, dark eyes, his animalistic behavior and hair, that was long and untamed. Wolf boy, that’s what my village called him. This boy was cold and forceful in everything he did, though he had a soft side. I saw it, once. I hated the narrow minded community in my home town, so I fled in the deep green of the nature to escape shallowness for a minute and explore reality in its purest form. The deeper I got into the forest, the more attention I gathered, by one specific creature. This was the first time that I met this boy. He was in my age and he asked me what I wanted here. I saw that he was careful with human beings - since he was something oddly different, I do not know till now if he was a spirit or guardian of the nature or just returned to the wild - but I saw that he had interest as well. The interest and fascination with the tiny amount of fear the both of us had grew to friendship, and soon, as I turned 18 I realized that I fell in love with this boy and the boy fell in love with me. The wolf boy remarked constantly that I was pure fascination, he could not stop thinking about the words I say, the actions I did, my face - not even at night. But the love took an ugly end. Though our relationship was a big adventure itself since the both of us were from another world, he kept tyrannizing my home town. He said it gave him joy and excitement and that I was just too prude and his pride did not let him feel just a little bit empathy for me. I tried convincing him to stay with me. We could have gone somewhere else, live in another small village together and just keep contact with my family since I loved them - but his raw love decided to turn against me. I turned to to his enemy and I became ‘one of them’. From this day on, he left the forest he lived in and I miss him still.’

Taurus: I am what they call a ‘femme fatale’ or, if you like, a maneater. I do not know my purpose, I honestly am as clueless as the poor creatures which soul I take every night. One day, I woke up, laying on a cold ground and the only thing that was in the room with me has been this giant mirror. I looked at myself. It is not like I had a life in the past or was I plainly made like this? Made for this life? I do not know. I just know that my full lips and curves are hypnotizing them and my deep, brown eyes are grabbing them so tightly, none of them would ever be able to forget me. And that is a fact. None of these men ever forgot me. Me or my voice, my soothing laugh and light touches. They bought me red dresses made out of fine silk, the wrote letters, telling me how they missed my soft, sun kissed skin. I loved that. Somehow it was nice to be spoiled. I drank the best champagne, ate the most exotic fruits and had my senses pleased by every good willed or desperate soul that crossed my way. That was my life before I got rejected. Rejected by a guy, so simple and dull looking, ugh, it gives me headaches just thinking about it. “I don’t want your company”, he said and ignored me. He even looked into my eyes but was still not reacting. Wasn’t I something different? Wasn’t I the demon that visited them every night just to slowly kill them? “Do you tell me, I am not appealing?” He dared to nod. “Yes.” I noticed how my real raging, evil nature wanted to show itself but I gritted my teeth and went back to my apartment. Hadn’t I everything I needed for them to fall in love with me? Wasn’t that what I was made for? As I cried hysterically, I noticed a little piece of paper lying on my desk. A little bit confused I picked it up and read the short sentence written on it. ‘Look in the mirror’, it said. Suddenly I was scared. What was that supposed to mean? A joke of some guy that in the end turned out to be vengeful, huh? So I looked into the mirror. And in front of me was an old woman. The woman was not ugly, but she did pass her best years in life already. I screamed and out of shock I threw the mirror to the ground, it shattered and little pieces of glass flew to my feet. I threw every mirror out of my house. What if it hasn’t been their souls keeping me alive? It doesn’t matter, because I refuse to believe that this is me.

Gemini:  I remember that my grandma told me many stories as I was younger. She told me a lot of her childhood, especially about her school time. Every dinner at her house ended with tears of laughter because of the memories she shared with us. One day though, she told me something I couldn’t believe at all. It was at her 74th birthday, the last birthday we celebrated with her. “As I was younger, there was not much to laugh about, I know, it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but the times were harder than now, we had no time to be kids. And as I turned 14, I was an adult in the eyes of my parents. One day as I sneaked out of the house to play with a friend of mine - I wasn’t allowed to go out because I had to tidy up the house, but oh well, I didn’t felt like doing so this day - when I noticed that there  was a new family that moved in the house that was empty for years. I was and still am very curious, so I observed it all a bit. The family seemed regular, nothing really special, but the older brother out o these two - he was sixteen if I remember correctly - he was special. I don’t know what he was but for me he was a magician. No, something higher, like a chosen one. A story teller from another world. Since I was a polite girl I asked him if he want to play something outside - or if he wants me to show him the neighborhood - and soon the boy called Josh turned out to be my vanishing point, because the things he told me…they became real.” As my grandmother told me that I was highly alarmed. Maybe she was not right in the head because of her age, but then again she never showed any kind of symptoms or has been seriously ill. So I kept on listening and what she told me was unbelievable.
“ One day he asked me to close my eyes while he wanted to tell me a story he just heard and really liked. I did, since I did not see any harm in it and as his words - so full of energy and life - reached me, I felt a mildly stronger wind soothing me. “Open your eyes, carefully and don’t panic”, he told me and I literally could hear his grin. I was in a land mad out of clouds and everything gold, the sky was bright and blue, but somehow you could see the stars, planets, the moon and the sun. Even the earth. “What is that?!”, I asked as I started to feel anxious but he just kept smiling and told me that this was his own world. Well, from this point it was our world. Every day we tried to meet and every day we could imagine and create the world like we wanted. A world where we fought pirats like they did in Neverland and we talked to animals and I gained all kind of secrets the nature there bared. He was from another universe. He taught me everything beautiful and the power of imagination. If it wasn’t real of course. But one day as we actually wanted to meet again, he and his family strangely disappeared. As I asked the neighbors and my parents, they told us they never heard of their name before.

Cancer: You were innocence and brutality. You were the only sanity I had and somehow nothing but distraction of my mind. As I saw you the first time everything turned quiet and everything turned grey, except you. You shined in every color and my heard started bumping for the first time in years. I never talked to you, but sometimes I watched you reading your book in the middle of the class as you couldn’t care less about math and in the breaks you walked behind the school building with your friends and smoked a cigarette after another until there was no time left and you came late to almost every lesson and you smelled like smoke but that was okay. You kind of made me like this smell. You were the giant waves burying me every night as I realized it will never work out but you also were the gentle breeze at the beach in the afternoon as I sat down by the shore and thought about us - looking at each other and not even realizing what the other one thinks.
My heart ached just thinking about you and I flee into a world of lucid dreaming, lilac and pink toned skies with orange clouds adorning them, and I flee into a world filled with anxiety and fear of never being yours because I need you, but I guess you never thought about being with me. I search for broken sea shells because they remind me of something I wished to be, a thought, a wish, that was meant to fail from the beginning,
I wonder what I reminded you of me. Maybe I was only the boy who had math and history with you. Maybe I reminded you of nothing at all.
Maybe I was never a part of your world. 

Leo: Every night I walk up the sky. A ladder out of clouds appears in front of my window, I open it and make my way up to the sky where I will find the most bright and shimmering stars out of all. They are made out of something we human beings describe as ‘stardust’, but do you know what stardust is, actually? No, and I no clue either, but sometimes, when you look someone and you share  a deep, mutual feeling? Like love, joy, or even sadness? That’s how it looks like. I know, I know, it is complicated. But, every time i look at you I hope I will see this kind of shimmering in them, because your deep, brown eyes remind me of the darkness of the night sky and every night when I climb to the stars I sit among them and watch you having the most vivid dreams. Sometimes they are happy dreams, sometimes they are full of disturbing images, so horrific that I take a little bit of the golden dust and let it trickle onto you. And when you wake up and we see each other at the bus station I see you smile, no dark circles under your eyes: you must have slept well. You know, up there in the sky is a castle, the night told me it was created for me, and it is made out of gold and silver, jewels, little opals and rubies that are illuminating the walls and window sills and the ceiling is painted and the most glorious pictures are placed on it, like Michelangelo himself visited the dream castle. And on the ground made out of marble I dance, every night. All alone, once in a while in beautiful clothes made out of silk and satin but mostly in my casual clothes, like you tend to see me every day in. The instruments play on their own and I sing to the music. Everything is shining and my heart is pumping and you do smile at me from time to time but my heart feels very heavy, you have to know. I show you, I really do show you that you are blessed with the beauty of the stars but I am afraid and maybe asking you if you need money for food in school or telling you that I like your sense of humor isn’t enough.
Because I climb up to the stars for years now, the stars that do greed me once in a while, but do not love me as much as I wish you to love me. I dance alone, all alone in this castle and I cry all alone on this castle. Maybe one day, you will dance with me.  

Virgo: I was working for this family my whole life, since my little body was fished out of the lake by our dearest Lord, I was forever deeply indebted to him and his family. I was happy I could for such an honorable family. I was glad that I had something that I was able to call ‘home’. A bed. Some books. Education - not the highest, but enough. And a perspective. As a person maiden I was everything that the younger woman in the village sometimes wished to be: the true hidden gem in the most respected household in the country. But there was something missing. 
I looked at my shaking hands as I was washing the dirty clothes of my Lord’s wife. Suddenly, the water turned red. I felt a stinging sensation on my hands and pulled them out quickly, furrowing my brows I looked at them. 
They bled. 
It felt so wrong. Those hands that already looked like the one of a 50 years old, even though I would celebrate my 21th birthday this year. There was nothing I could truly give. From the bottom of my heart. There was nothing. 
Out of nowhere, a light touch on my shoulder gave me a shiver.
It was the Lord’s oldest son. “You, it’s late, go, get some sleep, let others finish it.” I wanted to protest - kindly of course - but he saw right through me. “You’ve done enough today. You deserve to rest - but let me help you with your hands first.” He smiled gently and his almond eyes gave me a feeling o security and warmth. “Thank you.”  From this moment on, I felt devoted to the son, it was a love made out of thankfulness and pure adoration. The Lord’s eldest son did not even care about my being and the effort I did, but he was gentle and not too harsh as some people here were. In special occasions he even asked for advice. I was able to give him a piece of my views and believes and he kindly treasured my words. I cried happy tears as my love’s wedding took place and I was allowed to give my opinion on the decoration and wedding theme. My love was unrequited but it was honest till the end. 

Libra: “My dear son, what are you looking at again?”, the father asked as he washed the dishes. They just finished breakfast. His thoughts being interrupted, the boy blinked before turning to his father. “I’m sorry father, I will help you instantly.” 
“You know, looking out of the window every day isn’t good, you will lose your sense for reality.” The son thought about this statement the whole day and the day after and even the day after that. “Why should I stay inside and help my father with his work? I am a living being after all. After all, I…I do feel as well.” The wooden boy went to the window in his bedroom and saw the neighbor girl, picking some flowers, probably for her ill grandmother. Once in a while when he was allowed to go out for a walk he chatted with her a bit - she was bubbly, but after all very soft and kind. Some people were fascinated by him, some told his father he should sell him to a museum or let scientist examine him, in the end no one knew how his father made the wooden boy come alive. And then there were people that were deeply afraid of him, calling him words like ‘monster’ or ‘accident’. “Oh my dear son, do not listen. You may think a little bit too rational sometimes, but after all you just came to live a few months ago - you still need to learn  and learning is one of the most common, human things on earth.” Yes, that indeed was true, but his father never saw what was going on inside his wooden heart. He was feeling like everyone else did. He wanted to help others, he wanted to socialize, but every time he gave, no one wanted to give this mutual feeling back - the feeling of someone special by his side was just too good to be true. This neighbor girl was the only one daring to talk to him and she even went picking flowers with him. The wooden boy was kind, talked politely and with his natural charm a fairy blessed him with the night he came alive, made her feel comfortable - the girl became special to him. One day though he saw the girl kissing a for him unknown boy. “What..what is that kind of feeling?”, he asked irritated and his father answered with the word: “heartbreak”. The wooden boy went to the shore a few days after that and with a wooden boat he made his way to somewhere else. “Pinocchio, where are you going?”, asked the sea concerned. The wooden boy did not know. “I guess I am made out of driftwood”, he answered. 

Scorpio: We sat by the shore and the setting sun let the world look even duller as it already was. His eyes searched for a fixed point, somewhere at the endless horizon, he always did that. Somehow, he never seemed to find one. Sometimes it got really quiet among the both of us. But it was pleasant. There were the crashing waves, the endless screaming of the sea gulls and the howling of the cold, hard wind. But it was pleasant. Somehow everything was pleasant. He was there and every inch of my body was filled with a vivid, magnetic feeling, I wanted to get closer to him, but I never knew if I wasn’t already close enough. I was attached. Attached  by one accidental, simple stroke of his warm hand when we walked through the city, attached by his deep, blue eyes and every time I looked at them I felt as I was jumping into ice cold water. He had a last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the waves. They devoured it. “What are you looking at all the time, are you searching for  a fixed point?”, I asked simply and watched the cigarette swimming on the surface. He smiled shortly, lowering his eyes, before they moved to me. And it was quiet again. This pleasuring silence, and I knew he thought about something. There was something odd about his stare but in a good way. He smiled again before answering. “There’s no need for that, when you already have one, isn’t it.” 
I was too scared to say something, I was too scared to ask if it was me. Because I knew that he was mine fixed point. This love was like waves pulling me closer to the muddy ground, but I loved the coldness of the sea because he himself was the warmth that greeted me when I made it back to the shore once in a while. I really wanted me to be his everything, just as he was mine. 

Sagittarius:  “I once had a bird. It was the most beautiful,splendid bird I have ever seen, never ever had mother nature created such a beauty again. Once in a while, your eyes catch something so oddly beautiful, you just have to capture it. With his bright and shimmering feathers as it sat there on a branch. As it preened it feathers, I slowly crept up on it, taking my camera and took a picture. It stopped as it heard the clicking noise, but did not flew away. I had the feeling it looked at me, saw right through me. At this moment I thought this bird was new. A new species. I could give it a name, this majestic creature, I could make it my own. From this moment on I investigated all my time observing the time, drawing it, noting down some of my newest observations and thoughts to gain as much knowledge as I could get. But next to it desire to fly all the time, it sang. Often and passionately. Maybe it called a mate. Or some other bird of its species, male or female - it did not matter. Another thing I noticed was, that it was not a timid animal - no, in fact it liked to present itself - but it really had no place to stay. In fact, it rode down the wind, like it was searching for something. A nest? A mate? Sometimes I was scared, because the bird disappeared for days, but it always came back. Somehow, it always came back, but I could never be sure. One day, I was sick of it. ‘Goddammit, for the sake of science, do it!’, I did shout at myself and captured it. It was hard because of it sharp beak. I put it in the biggest cage I could find, I made my home as realistic as the actual forest it lived in. Excited it flew around its cage,a little bit nervous and scared, but over all very confident. I loved this unique, vivid bird, and it loved me as well. It answered me with some of its sing sang once in a while and it even dared to get closer to me. But something changed. The bird slowly started dying. There was no singing. No flying. No chirping. It lied on the ground, breathing heavily, it was exhausted. Moved and concerned by the picture in front of me, I opened the cage, carefully lifted the bird up and lied it down on the window sill. As I came back the bird was gone. I never saw it again.” 

Capricorn: As a florist I am deeply devoted to any kind of plant and the act of making them grow, creating a bouquet of flowers, nature itself - as I was a kid I already felt  like Daphne the nymph in the wood ,the green surrounding me soothed me, I found peace in the nature. Well, as I was 22 years old I got the idea to open my own flower shop - much to the liking's of my parents. I wanted to create something absolutely new: a flower shop with a touch of the unusual, kind of unique, maybe something that you won’t find everywhere.
I wanted to do black flowers.
My parents told me a thousand times that this would ruin me, an idea meant to fail.
But of course, they couldn’t stop me. Years later I opened my flower shop at the end of the city, it was small but cute and my flowers sure caught the attention of passengers and after a while I had some customers trusting me and buying my creations and flowers. But no one really seemed to appreciate the black ones. “They are..ahm…different, honey”, my aunt said as she visited my shop. “You really think that people want them? Flowers are meant to look good, make one happy and let the room look friendlier. This is…quite the opposite.” Before I couldn’t even respond a young man looking at small plants in one corner of my shop interrupted me, apologizing before speaking: “I see them as exciting. They draw attention to them and have something unique, maybe something that not everyone understands.” He smiled plainly before laying his eyes on me. “I’d like black roses. I need for a special occasion.” I nodded. I’ve never seen him before or even nearby but I did as he said. From this moment on he went to my shop every two weeks, only to order some new black roses, he usually was quiet but once in a while he dared asking me questions. A little bit odd sometimes, he was a bit cold, but otherwise kind of magnetic - I don’t know why. One day he stopped coming. After maybe a year. The year he disappeared was also the hardest year for my shop - my grandmother died and I neglected the shop to the point where I was close to abandoning it. It survived in the end, after they saw the rosaries I did for the grave more people gave me and my shop a chance. One day, as I was visiting her grave, I crossed a grave I have never seen before. I read the name out loud and wondered, before I gasped in shock and almost let the watering can fall down. Black roses were placed in front of the tombstone, they seemed old, almost rotten. I wondered if it was him laying six feet underground.

Aquarius: I was just watching. I saw her dancing on the other side of the room, like she was in a dream. The fluorescent light touched her skin softly and all I wanted was to talk to her. But I could not. I was not able to. Sometimes when she went to bed and suffered from nightmares - which she got pretty often - I started stroking her hair and she would sleep tightly and calmly eventually. When she forgot to pack her lunch I would carefully put it in her schoolbag and when she forgot to make her bed after waking up, I gladly did it for her once in a while. “Thank you, darling”, her mother would say. “But mom, that wasn’t me”, was her constant response. Her mother would smile then and lightly shake her head, but her daughter was going insane with her mother not believing her that she didn’t even touch the sheets till 7am. When she came back from school I listened to her soothing voice, humming to the songs that her phone played. I admit, I am not really fond of the music today, but I could get used to it, after all I was an open minded spirit, right? I just wish I could be with her and walk her to school and carry her books and pick flowers with her and all the stuff that she writes in her dairy - yes I admit yet again I read it once in awhile when she decides to write something down. But then I was afraid. I did not know how these things worked out. I mean, for me, things like love will never turn out again, but I was always a bit special when it came to occasions like those. Me, falling for a living girl? I was at the attic almost for 5 days before I decided to visit her. I listened to her calling a friend and she told her that she hated flowers. Hating flowers? Well,I guess I can cancel picking flowers with her now out of my imagination. And she complained about not having anyone for Valentine’s Day. I know, this girl would never ever notice me. Hell, she didn’t even believe in ghosts. But after all, that was the only thing left on earth that mattered for me - this strange love. So instead of flowers I made myself useful and I placed a jar with three fireflies I was able to persuade into being a gift for only one day in front of her door and happily she told her mom about a mysterious admirer. I know, I know, really cheesy. But that day I strangly fell asleeo. As I woke up I saw a bright, white light. Maybe it was my time to go.

Pisces: For you: War is over and I suppose it’s best for me to stay at the Summer’s islands. After such a dark period we would need the time to gather around again and work up the loss of our nation. I heard about your father and I deeply apologize, telling you my honest concern. But he was a good man, he fought for the right side and for justice and peace. After I heard that you are going to marry the oldest son of your dearest father’s friend I want to congratulate the both of you, may you live happily together. I want to be honest and please forgive me speaking so openly about my feelings, but I think it is the best if we would stop interfering with one another from this point on. This moment we live in right now, it is hard but the right time to start things over again. And I can not be a part of your life anymore. Since I was young and I was ordered to be your knight, I felt very attached to you. They describe magic creatures in those fairy tales my father told me not to read. They would make me weak, he said, I should see right in the dead eye of life. But I still read them. They helped me escaping out of the brutality of life. And you constantly did remind me of the dreamy fantasy these books told me about. Like those elves in the fairy tale you moved gracefully through the woods, going for a walk and your soft hair would blow in the wind and reminded me oh so often of the fresh and pure snow. I wished I would be able to vanish those feelings and memories, so I could watch you growing old, so I could see you in your purest form of the celestical being that you are every day. You made me stand up when I wanted to leave war and flee into the woods, when I wanted to escape life. You alone made me stay. And because I adore you with all of my being I wish you to be happy. I will let go. But I needed to tell you before I let you disappear out of my heart and mind. Do not write back, im asking you at this point. Do never change your heart.

5 pages letter from May 21st, 1984 by Ted Bundy (x)

Dear Diane,

I have received your letter from May 1st, I apologize for taking so long to answer it. Thank you for writing to me.

You say that you have written to me on two previous occassions. I’m sorry, but I don’t recall those letters.

In your letter you speculated as to the possible reasons why I didn’t answer your earlier letters. I’d like to comment on your theories.

1.I’ve many letters from total strangers.” You’ve a point here. I do receive many letters from people I have never known (I agree with you, by the way, that “there are no strangers in the world, only people we haven’t met.”)

The main problem here isn’t so much the time I’d need to answer took me, that problem can be overcome. All I need is the motivation. I made little or no effort to write back to people like yourself, but lately I have been because … well, it’s not easy to say actually. I guess I just feel free to in a way I wasn’t before.

No, the real problem I have in answering you and others who write to me is a straight forward for me: I don’t have the stamps.

People don’t send me stamps or stampered, self- addressed envelopes (note: Here he makes reference on the right where it says:“Let me correct what I just wrote.”) Sometimes people will enclose a stamp or two but they are for the exception.

I’m not being critical, Diane. That’s just the way it is. I can’t send people letters if I don’t have stamps.

So I have to conserve the few stamps I have for people I have known for years, especially my wife and family. Only when I have what can be considered an extra stamp or two now-and-then do I respond to the (illegible) of correspondence I have from other folks.

Believe me, I don’t expect people to send me stamps. I don’t imagine that it occurs to people who write to me that I wouldn’t have just one stamp to use to write them back. But as I’ve explained, there are many letters that each need only one stamp.

And it may also be that people assume (illegible) heard rumors to the effect that I have money, or friends or family with money. I don’t, and (whatsmore), I don’t receive a nickle from many of the books, articles, TV programs, or (illegible) films about Ted Bundy. Nothing. Nada. Zero.

That’s fine, too. I don’t want any of that money and I don’t need it. The fact is I’m broke, and while I can handle that, it also means I can’t afford stamps to go on letters to you. So it goes.

Excuse me, I’ve made too much of the stamp (illegible). It doesn’t bother me actually, it’s just the way it is.

2.My wife doesn’t allow me to answer letter from other women?

This is the second theory you propose. Perhaps you were being only half serious on this one. No problem. Of course, if you knew my wife, Carole, you would understand immediately that isn’t the case.

3.You are too busy to write a lot of just friends letters.

I’ve already addressed this point, though briefly, earlier on. Time is not a big factor here. Or is lazyness. It can be, though.

I find that I have more than enough to keep my days (illegible) from 5 in the morning to 11 at night. I’m rarely bored. However, contrary to what you assumed, I do not work with legal matters.

Generally, (illegible). I find the law too limiting and doctrinaire the way it goes about separating people. But that is another story.

So while I am being in a relaxed, controlled, and positive way, there is time to write just friends, occasionally, attorneys, the time available is limited and there are many people to write to. It’s also important that I feel inwardly moved to write to a certain person, and I don’t always feel that way. I have to be conscious of my inner flow and that is another story too.

I enjoyed your letter and enjoyed writing to you. Again, excuse me for taking so long.

X.

Part Eight // Somebody Else [A Stiles Stilinski Story]

Prompt: Stiles broke her heart and now she can never look at him the same. They remained friends, but she can’t exactly find it in herself to truly forgive Stiles and he doesn’t know how to accept her new relationship with the one person he can’t stand. Overtime, they both eventually got over each other… or have they?

Series (collab with @sarcasticallystilinski): Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven -

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader/ Stiles Stilinski x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral (female on male), Fingering, and Swearing.

Word Count: 2,908

A/N: Well, guys this is it. I know I can speak on behalf of my partner in crime throughout all of this and myself that we are so happy with how much everyone seemed to like this story. We love it so much and to see people actually love it too is amazing. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this finale (also if you haven’t followed @sarcasticallystilinski yet you really should because she’s fucking awesome)!

“Katalina?”

It was as if the entire world stopped moving around, except for the floor that suddenly shook and fell beneath her feet the moment her eyes landed on his. The same warm honey colored ones, with also a hint of curiosity in them, that never ceased to take her breath away. Stiles stared at her with confusion on his face at her sudden appearance on his doorstep, his heart now beating faster with her here.

All of the thoughts and words she once had planned to confess to him immediately flushed away from her mind and all Katalina could do was gaze in awe at him. The boy who she missed so dearly and wanted back in her life more than anything. The boy who had her completely wrapped around his finger.

“Katalina?” Stiles repeated to the completely still girl with wide eyes as he snapped his fingers in front of her face, hoping to somehow bring her back to the real world. “Hello?”

The snapping seemed to work because the second he did, her mind seemed to function again and she slightly jumped back to life. Shaking her head, Katalina nervously tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I-I had a whole speech planned. B-But then I saw you again and I-I lost every train of thought I’ve ever had.” She confessed and Stiles’ eyebrows quirked in response.

“I guess I still have lingering effect on you, huh?” He chuckled light-heartedly, scratching the back of his neck.

The comment was just a small and simple remark to make the tension between them a little less awkward but Katalina took it more seriously than Stiles expected.

“Of course you still have an effect on me.” She stated and the pace of his heartbeat increased considerably. “Because sure I can delete your number on my phone and unfriend you on Facebook to try to forget you or even erase photos of us. But, what the hell do I do about your husky voice still ringing in my ears? Or the feeling of your igniting touch lingering on my skin? Tell me, what do I do about all of the memories we share together and the burning image of your breath-taking smile I see every damn time I close my eyes?”

Stiles’ eyes were wide at how much he didn’t expect Katalina’s words. He knew that at one point she loved him but he had no idea that, even after everything, she still loved him with such passion and fire. It made his heart feel warm and a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in years.

“T-That was amazing for someone who forgot their speech.” Stiles stuttered, not knowing how to respond in a non-sarcastic way. “You should really get into improv.”

Katalina let out a sudden laugh and the beautiful sound was music to Stiles’ ears as it mended his broken heart back together. And the gorgeous smile on his face was what put her back together as well. All of the ice that was in both of their wounded hearts was being repaired with warmth which melted away all of the cold.

“Huh, I guess I should.” Katalina giggled.

“I missed the sound of your laugh.” Stiles smiled and a heated blush crept up her cheeks at the confession.

“I missed you.” Katalina pushed loose hair behind her ear and Stiles couldn’t hide the way he swooned.

“You did?”

“How could I not? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” She grinned, quoting his own words from the letter he wrote to her.

Stiles’ heart stopped when she did and there isn’t a single doubt in him that his soul is connected to hers and that he only belonged to the beautiful girl standing at his doorstep.

“So, I take it that you read my letter?” Stiles smiled with a blush and Katalina nodded, smiling back at him without second thought.

“I definitely did. And it’s funny because ever since I finished it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She stated. “Which actually made me wonder just how long you’ve been on mind.

"And then it occured to me: Stiles, ever since I met you,” Katalina continued. “You’ve never left.”

The boy whose heart was destroyed and ruined beyond repair felt it come back to life along with the girl whose heart was once mangled and weighing heavily beneath her ribs. The words and confessions they shared with each other took out those shattered hearts, stitched them back up and returned them whole.

“I love you, Stiles Stilinski.” Katalina said the words he has been dying to hear for the longest time. “Always have, always will.”

“If you really think that I’m going to just run back into your arms after everything that happened,” Stiles began to say and Katalina’s face immediately fell, knowing that it couldn’t possibly end well. But, Stiles suddenly placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face to look back up at him. His eyes were warm and he had a soft smile on as he placed his hand against her cheek. “Then, you’re absolutely right.”

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know that all of the tension, the anger, the hurt and awkwardness between them left both of their bodies to never again return. The two gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes before Stiles glanced down at her lips and Katalina’s breath hitched in her throat at the knowledge of what was about to come. Butterflies made their way into her stomach as Stiles closed his eyes and leaned in closer to her. She shut her own eyes in preparation and a feeling of happiness sparked in her heart the second his soft lips touched hers.

The kiss was calm and smooth, both desperately wanting to show their passion through slow movements. Stiles’ and Katalina’s lips meshed together in an addictive pace, both groaning when they needed to breathe.

“I love you, too.” Stiles breathed, his forehead resting on hers. “And I have to say, you look absolutely beautiful with that sweater on.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.” She smirked.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you like it better if it wasn’t on me anymore?” Katalina grinned, feeling a need to be closer to him than just by their lips touching. “Is your dad home?”

“No.” He smiled. “He’s working the whole night shift.”

“Really?” Katalina smiled back.

“Really. Do you want to come in?” Stiles asked and the young girl felt no need to hold back her smirk.

In a matter of seconds, their mouths crashed together again and this time the kiss was hard and desperate. Stiles, suddenly, pulled her into his house and she let out a laugh at the unexpected move. Once they were both inside, he slammed the door shut  and pulled her lips back on his. He didn’t even wait before lowering his hand from her cheek and placing both of them on her ass.

“Jump.” Stiles commanded with a husky voice and Katalina shivered at just how sexy he was.

She followed his directions and thrusted herself up into his arms, letting out a small yelp when Stiles squeezed her ass. However, she took this opportunity of accidentally breaking their kiss to grab the hem of his lacrosse sweatshirt she was wearing and pull it off her body. Katalina couldn’t find a worry in her bones as she threw it on the floor and Stiles turned them around to walk up the stairs. Their lips were back together and Stiles successfully managed to climb the staircase with Katalina tight in his arms. With every step he took, both teenagers became more and more excited to be joined together again after everything terrible that happened.

Careful not to drop her, one of Stiles’ hands let go of her to open his bedroom door. After they were inside, without breaking their kiss, he put his hand back and closed the door shut with his foot. Katalina’s body bounced on the mattress the second he dropped her on the bed and, with lust rushing in the both of them, Stiles reached behind his back to gab his shirt and yank it off of him. A jolt of desire sparked inside of him at the sight of Katalina biting down on her lip and pulling of the shorts she was wearing. Both pieces of clothing fell on the ground at the same time and Stiles excitedly dropped his sweatpants. His eyebrows quirked when he stepped out of the pants and just as he was about to remove his boxers, Katalina scooched to the edge of the bed and swatted his hands away.

The sight of his bulge straining against his blue underwear and a little wet from his increasing amount of precum was what made Katalina jump into action, completely turned on from how much he was. Stiles’ body shuddered when she lightly played with the dark hair above his briefs before snapping the hem of his boxers against his hips. She pulled it down his legs and audibly moaned when his erection appeared in front of her which made Stiles moan in response.

“You don’t have to-” He began to suggest even though lust was clouding his mind and thoughts.

“Oh, Stiles, I want to.” Katalina interrupted as she wrapped her dominant hand around his base and the other grasped his thigh for stability.

She licked her lips in excitement and Stiles felt as if he would melt from how hot the girl he loved was. The second her warm and wet mouth wrapped around his swollen tip, Stiles couldn’t hold back the animalistic groan that came from deep within him. That exact sound, however, made the amount of wetness already pooling in Katalina’s panties to grow even more. Stiles’ hands made their way into her hair as she gently sucked his head, swirling her tongue on his slit and collecting the salty precum.

“Fuck, Kat.” He moaned, massaging her scalp and making her moan in response. Stiles, suddenly, bucking his hips at the vibration. “That feels so good.”

Katalina removed her hand from his base and placed it on his thigh. Stiles’ eyes rolled to the back of his head and he twitched immediately the second she took all of him in, his tip touching the back of her throat.

Stiles’ grip on her tightened when he couldn’t hold back anymore and thrusted into her mouth, which to be honest, Katalina didn’t even mind. She loves the way his face contorts in complete pleasure and, even though tears are now watering in her eyes at how intense this was, Katalina’s enjoying it just as much as he is.

“O-Okay, stop stop stop.” Stiles groaned, pulling her off of him.

Her lips detached from Stiles’ shaft, a small string of spit taking her place, and she pouted at the sudden loss of contact. Stiles was breathing heavily as he reluctantly opened his eyes and let go of Katalina’s hair. He looked at her and never has she looked more beautiful. Her lips were red and swollen, but her eyes were sparkling up at him.

“I don’t want to cum unless it’s in you.”

“Well, then what are you waiting for?” Katalina smirked, both of their pupils immediately dilating.

Those words snapped something in Stiles like never before and he immediately dove into action. He kicked his boxers completely off of his legs as Katalina backed up on the bed and he gently pushed her down onto the mattress. His lips were back on hers with such need and desperation that their teeth were now clashing as they kissed but neither one of them truly cared enough to stop. Stiles’ hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra with ease. He broke their kiss to plant wet ones on her skin as he slipped the straps down her shoulders. The bra soon met the rest of their clothes on the floor and Stiles instinctively placed his mouth on one of her breasts.

Stiles’ hand trailed down her body until they reached the hem of her panties and, without even feeling like teasing her since he too desperately wanted more, he pulled it off her legs and dropped them elsewhere. He sucked lightly on her pulse point and the increasing ache in her core was interrupted when he unexpectedly skimmed his middle finger inbetween her soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit.” Stiles moaned and Katalina’s hips bucked from how badly she wanted more friction.

Stiles complied and slipped his middle finger into her warmth, earning a loud and shameless moan from her lips. He gently hooked his finger inside of her and moved against her walls, the delicious feeling stimulating intense pleasure in her which provoked sudden desire for more than just his sexy hands.

“Stiles,” Katalina moaned, her voice breathless as she leans her head back into his pillow. “I need more.”

He thought she meant more of his hands and began to slip another finger inside of her only to be stopped by Katalina’s hand grasping on his wrist. Stiles immediately removed his face from her nipple to look up at her with curious eyes.

“I need more of you.”

Stiles’ erection immediately twitched at her seductive voice and, without missing a single beat, he pulled his fingers out of her and put them into his mouth. Katalina moaned at how sexy he looked and Stiles moaned at how amazing she tasted before he spread her legs further apart and pumped himself a few times at her entrance. Stiles wet himself with her arousal and gazed deep into her eyes when he knew they were both ready.

Katalina’s own warm eyes stared at him as she reached for his free hand and laced it with her own, the small act of tenderness making his heart flutter. With their fingers intertwining together and never breaking their intense but affectionate stare, Stiles carefully slid himself inside of her. Due to how wet and slick she was, moving into her was easy and completely pleasurable. Both of them let out loud moans of appreciation at the fact that they were connected again after everything, but this time in the right way. There was no more guilt, no more pain and no more worries floating over their heads. Stiles and Katalina were finally back where they belonged. They were finally home.

Stiles thrusted into her slowly, feeling no need to make this fast and desperate. He wanted to enjoy every second he had with her and she certainly didn’t complain. The slower Stiles moved, the faster their hearts beat. They both gazed at each other with such love and care in their eyes that Katalina couldn’t hold back the smile on her face. The sight made Stiles’ entire body flood with happiness, the same happiness he hasn’t felt in the longest time.

It’s like what’s said in the 80’s movie they both love so much, St. Elmo’s Fire. “There are several quintessential moments in a man’s life: losing his virginity, getting married, becoming a father, and having the right girl smile at you.” That right girl to Stiles was Katalina and he knew that this image of her smiling up at him adoringly as he made love to her would be burned in his memory forever.

Even though they went slow, the deep thrusting certainly didn’t fail to build up an insane amount of pleasure in them. And before they even knew it, Stiles and Katalina were succumbing to the lust and intense orgasms were crashing down on them with incredible force. Electricity and ecstasy ran through their veins as they cried out each other’s names, her back arching into his chest and her toes curling into the mattress. Stiles’ moans, on the other hand, were muffled when he stuffed his head back into her neck at the same time that his body twitched and released his liquids inside of her heat.

When the pleasure pooling in their bodies was replaced with satisfaction and bliss, Stiles pulled himself out of Katalina and fell beside her on his bed. They were so peaceful from the loving sex they just had that they didn’t even mind the sweat lingering on their skin or the evidence of arousal still on their groins. All they could think about was how in love they were with each other as Stiles wrapped his arms around her naked body and brought Katalina closer into his bare chest. Pushing her damp hair off her face, Stiles left tender kisses on her forehead.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Kat.” He smiled and, even though she was already sleepy, Katalina looked up at him with admiration in her eyes.

“I’ll never stop loving you either, Stiles.”

Stiles leaned in and kissed her deeply, too addicted to her lips to let go. The kiss was so passionate and full of love that it put every other kiss on the planet to shame. Since the invention of the kiss, there have been a few that were rated the most romantic, the most pure. But, this kiss left them all behind.

It didn’t matter how hard Theo or the universe itself tried, these two were inseparable and nothing would ever keep them apart. Even when the odds worked against them, Stiles and Katalina would always find a way back to each other, no matter what.

madame-simsa  asked:

What is your most favorite quote?

Oh man…I have so many and it kind of depends on the day you ask me. However, I can say that these three are contenders: 

1. Do I Dare Disturb the Universe- T.S. Eliot - going to get a tattoo of this one day! I love this poem, but I love how powerful this line feels. 

2. I spent my life folded between the pages of books. In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction. - Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me- I am obsessed with this quote. I relate to it so much! 

3. I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything. -F. Scott Fitzgerald- Swoon :) I want someone who would write about me like he wrote about Zelda. Just maybe not drink as much lol.

What’s your favorite quote?

Lauren

For the Record- Chris Jackson X Reader

tagged: @hamiltonsquills @bella-the-gryffondor @always-blame-jefferson @ridiculousn3ssfangirl @rock-titties @delicatelyfadingsincebirth @larxene223 @love-doesnt-discriminate @spotlightonbooks @annabelle-333 @captivatingcosette @telltheking-cassetoi @snapplefactsandfandomtrash @proud-shy-slytherin @thewordofthenerd @sweaterkitty-fluff @doublebubblediscoqueenhtml

“Lin that’s an awful idea.” Chris groaned and I smiled from where I was standing behind them.

“No it’s not. Chris you just gotta seduce them with your knowledge about George Washington.”

“Chris is right.” I added and they spun around, nearly losing their balance.

“See, I told you.”

“Oh c'mon, Y/N wouldn’t you love it if someone approached you and just started sharing their obscure amount of knowledge about George Washington?”

“No, let it be on record that I don’t have a George Washington kink.” I replied and Chris lost it, nearly falling off the stage because of how hard he was laughing. Lin looked extremely flustered.

“I mean that isn’t what I was implying.”

“I know but if someone were to start off with random facts about him I would be more than a little confused.”

“Are you taking notes Chris?” Lin asked and I looked at Lin confused.

“Chris, my friend, please do not tell me that you were about to flirt with someone by telling them facts about George Washington.”

“Lin wanted me to.”

“Lin is probably trying to mess your chances up then.”

“Hey!” Lin said defensively and I rolled my eyes. “Why did you come over here anyway?”

“Because I just wanted to talk with my best friend, isn’t that enough?” I asked him and he smirked.

“I’ll leave you kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He told us and he walked away away after winking and nearly tripping.

“Nerd.” Chris said affectionately under his breath and I looked at him and smiled. He turned his head so he was looking at me again and he smiled a bit as well.

“So who were you planning on using your knowledge of George Washington on?”

“Someone special.”

“They must be if you’re willing to go to such lengths.”

“You have no idea.” He said, his smile growing a bit and he looked at me the same way he looked at Lin.

Affectionately.

“This is Benny at the dispatch- yo!” I started singing before turning around and running into Chris.

“Were you singing Benny’s Dispatch?”

“No.” I denied immediately, more embarressed than anything because I just ran into the man who sung it first.

“I just heard you start singing it though- it sounded really good.”

“Please you sound amazing in it so I doubt that I could do it justice, had I been singing it.” I told him and he looked at me in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right? Because you just sang seven words and I’m already in love.” He told me and he stiffened a bit before his face started turning red.

“Well for the record, I was in love the first time I heard you sing as well.” I told him, lightening the mood. He visibly relaxed and smiled again.

“We should sing it together one time.”

“Or just together in general.”

“It’s a date.”

“I guess it is.” I smiled nervously and he grabbed his phone and started playing it and we both sang along, his voice much louder than mine since he was obviously more comfortable with the song. Everytime we played it, I grew more confident and my voice became louder. He kept smiling everytime it did.

We glanced at each other at the same time, our smiles making it difficult to continue singing.

“It’s good to see your face.”

“It’s your last show today.” I told him and he smiled sadly.

“C'mon, have a drink with me, one last time.”

“God I’m gonna miss having you around. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I’m going to miss you too, Y/N.”

“Promise to keep in touch with everyone?”

“Yeah, of course. I do have something I want to tell you before I leave though.”

“Huh?”

“George Washington wrote close to twenty thousand letters and he had thirty dogs.”

“That’s interesting but why are you-”

“Finally listening to Lin.”

“Listening to Lin about-” I started before remembering about his plan to have Chris seduce someone with his knowledge about George Washington.

Well shit.

“I didn’t start off with it.” He pointed out and I laughed a bit.

“I mean for the record, out of all the ways people have asked me out this is definetly the weirdest.” I smiled and he grabbed my hands nervously.

“So?”

“Yes.” I told him and his smile grew and we both momentarily forgot the fact that it was his last show. And that the show began in less than twenty minutes. That was until they announced it.

“Goddammit I’ve waited this long.” He mumbled and he kissed me.