the way she laughs

On Wednesday, one of my cats ran away. She has been with us for 4 years, and, to me, she was like a sister.

She’d always curl up on my legs whenever I was playing videogames and even when I was on the bed, she’d jump on it and stay next to me. She’d meow at me to call me because she wanted to play, and whenever I wasn’t at home, she’d go to my brother’s room (where the videogames are, lol) because she’d think to find me there.


And she ran away. We found her twice, in an abandoned house near where we live. But whenever we would get near, she’d run away again. There are lots of stray cats here, and it isn’t the first time one of our cats escaped, but they would always visit us each day (also because my mom leaves cat food on the lawn for them). But she never came.


So now I’m feeling pretty down.

Ceren told me, to cheer me up, “you’ll see, she will return before Saturday”. And we made a bet.

On Thursday night, he told me “You’ll see, she’ll come back tomorrow.”

Friday morning, she really came into our lawn, but ran away as soon as she saw us. In a way, she really came back, even though for just a few minutes.

And today, Saturday, I didn’t see her, but a guy in the city who was selling little figurines and such gave me a little wooden cat.

Today I also dreamt that a girl had found my cat and she brought her back to us.

It was… weird.


So yeah… I’m feeling a little down about this. My cat was a stray before we adopted her, and it’s not the first time she actually stayed outside for more than one day, but it’s the first time that she never came back, not even once. I’m not worried about her not finding food or anything, considering that we know that she can hunt on her own and there’s always the food that my mom leaves outside.

But still, my mom is pretty down for this too. We all loved her, but maybe she just didn’t want to stay with us anymore.

lightofevolution  asked:

I hope I’m doing this right: “Let’s hope this doesn’t get messy.” (Five sentences prompt) Thank you!

“Let’s hope this doesn’t get messy.”

Pinching his nose together with one hand, Draco leaned over his daughter and began to open her nappy. A fit of giggles escaped the youngest Malfoy’s mouth as she watched her father grimace at the sight in front of him.

“Oh gross,” Draco moaned, rolling the nappy into a ball and tossing it into the bin beside the changing table.

Hermione laughed as she pushed husband out of the way and smiled at her daughter. “You wouldn’t make a mess, would you?” she cooed, tickling her daughter eliciting a fit of giggles from the young one once again.

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my ask and I’ll write the next five!

thetrashthatsmilesback  asked:

Pt 1) (for some reason it's not letting me do anonymous but whatever.) So I invited all of my friends to my house for Halloween, and I mentioned that I'm not out to my parents as pan yet, and this one girl started laughing and went "yOU'RE NOT OUT YET???" and then kept laughing and I'm scared she's going to out me. She's new to the school this year and she's fairly nice but already she's defended our other friend using the r slur (me and my one friend got pissed cause we're both on the spectrum)

Pt 2) and she’s now implied that I should be out to my parents at this point. I’m not ready to yet, I want to wait till college so I can do gender and sexuality as one fell swoop, but the way she was laughing and going on about how she’s already out is scaring tf out of me. I don’t want to uninvite her, but idk what to do.

________________

Jesus fucking christ, I’m so sorry you have to deal with that. Like, what the fuck?? Are you able to talk to her about this? If she’s really your friend, she’d understand your boundaries. And this can be a safety issue for you, depending how your parents are and what your comfort level is. I would totally understand you uninviting her. She’s being an asshole

-Kyoung

One morning Sirius Black saunters into the Great Hall with his hair in a bun and tie loose as can be. And he plonks himself down at the table and everyone just stares. 

Because his neck is covered in hickeys. 

And he’s all grins and showing them off like nobodies business.

And all the girls in the Hall are eyeing each other up like ‘Which one of you bitches got to do that? Fuck you why wasn’t it me…’

McGoangall just stares for second before averting her eyes. She can’t think of any rules he’s broken but Jesus Christ should that be allowed?

And James walks in, hand combing through his hair before he see. And he just raises he eyebrow and smiles.

‘Merlin Remus, get a bit carried away did we?’

And Remus is just siting there, red as tomato, wanting to die because it’s so embarrassing and someone is laughing oh no.. 

But secretly he is really fucking pleased with himself. Like, damn. I did that.


I don’t know man.. Wolfstar with hickeys just makes me happy.

4

Not to make light of the everything that is the No Man’s Land sequence, but one of my favorite moments in Wonder Woman is a small, nearly forgettable moment, and the one I would argue at its core is Most Diana™️. After Veld is liberated and before they’re getting ready to go to the Gala, Charlie finally falters, expressing his self-doubt at joining them after choking earlier.

And Diana - kind, good, darling Diana - she smiles and laughs, not in a way that mocks or belittles, but rather expresses a purity and sincerity.

“Oh Charlie,” she breathes, “Then who will sing for us?”

With such a simple, seemingly innocent gesture, she reminds us of her true superpower. Yes, she’s strong. She’s a fierce warrior, she can fight like a badass and make us cry while watching her deflect bullets and swing a sword, but more than that, more than making us believe in her, she makes us believe in ourselves

Wonder Woman inspires and reminds us of the goodness within; of our own value, strength, and significance.  She reminds Charlie of his own worth. That he is more than an eye behind a lens and a finger above a trigger. That a moment of weakness doesn’t define us, any more than our pasts, and she lifts him out of that insecurity effortlessly. - via @counterpunches (x)

Oh my god, in last night’s Bob’s Burgers, Bob takes Gene to a laser light rock show at the planetarium (super important to Bob, because it was his favorite when he was a teenager, and this is the last night before they’re closing the exhibit because it’s old and no one goes anymore, also it’s Bob’s birthday), and Gene has no idea what he’s in for, but he gets pumped for it anyway ‘cause Bob’s so excited about it, and finally they get in there and they’re watching it, and Gene has a sensory overload and kinda starts freaking out ‘cause he can’t handle it, so Bob takes him out and they sit in the car for a bit.  Gene’s angry because Bob didn’t tell him it would be so loud and scary, so Bob offers to play the album for Gene at a normal volume, and Gene starts to enjoy it, so he reclines the seats, takes out the cigarette lighter, tells Gene to pretend it’s a laser, and starts drawing in the air, explaining the plot to him (it’s like a full on Pink Floyd or Rush-esque rock opera about a bunch of robot overlords telling rockers that they can’t play music anymore, and one Rebel rising against them).  Gene gets really into it and decides he wants to see the finale of the laser show (which Bob regards as a life-changing experience), so they sneak back into the planetarium (there’s no re-entry allowed) with a few tricks that parallel the story from the album, and watch the climax of the show together (Bob fashions some earplugs for Gene out of a napkin).  On the way home, Bob’s asking Gene how he liked it, and Gene says “I loved it!”, Bob asks him to speak louder ‘cause his ear’s are shot, and Gene yells, “I LOVED IT, DAD”.  Bob yells back “I love you too, Gene”.

I FUCKING!!! CAN’T!!! DEAL!!!! WITH HOW GOOD THIS SHOW IS!!! I know i don’t talk about Bob’s Burgers a lot but this show is flawless and charming and gross and funny all at the same time, the characters are written like people with actual fears and anxieties, and unlike a lot of comparable shows, the comedy doesn’t come from the family being pitted against each other, it’s always the family against the world… I love it, I love it, it’s so pure and refreshing and still somehow manages to be funny without sacrificing it’s heart, and I fuckin’ love it, please watch Bob’s Burgers holy CRAP okay I’m done.

This is dedicated to @mormoc and @percyyoulittleshit 

Because I went through a funk and they sent me such sweet messages and they’re just amazing people in general and I want to thank them for being just the best girls and the best of friends a girl could ask for. I love them and I just want to say thank you guys!

“her. the feeling i get when she’s around. the way my heart beats just a little faster and my hands get clammy. but more than that. the way she makes me laugh, and not just giggle i mean the laugh that comes from the soul and bellows throughout your whole body. the way my heart beats faster but my mind calms down, if even just for a moment. how i could listen to her talk for hours about anything and everything or sit in complete silence but feel just as content either way. the feeling. the feeling you get when you just know. know you want to be around that person, that you want to make them happy no matter the cost to yourself. the feeling. it’s. well. indescribable. its just. there. shes just, there. but want her here.”

In the aftermath of it all, Catarina can’t find it in herself to be mad anymore.

At the start, after Magnus had portaled home, staggering and hurt and halfway to death with this boy leaning against him, asking that she help this Shadowhunter first… she remembers healing him – Alexander – and feeling rage. With runes stark on his skin and blood on his knuckles, he had been every inch a Nephilim. The Nephilim who had stolen Magnus’s heart.

She remembers the way she’d frowned at his unconscious face, comparing him to the strip of photographs Magnus left on his desk. Watching him lying there on a makeshift cot in the living room, suffering from the shock of blood loss and broken bones, she couldn’t imagine him making funny faces, couldn’t imagine him looking at Magnus with soft, sweet eyes. Couldn’t imagine that he’d want Magnus’s touch, that he would smile that boyish, lopsided smile with her best friend’s arms looped around him.

She remembers thinking, you don’t deserve him. This Shadowhunter, this lying Head of the New York Institute, didn’t deserve Magnus and his love. Magnus, who had started sleeping exclusively on the right side of the bed, who looked at Madzie with something wistful in his gaze every time she ran toward him, who always protected his people at the expense of his own happiness.

He’s too good for you, she had thought as she glared daggers at the boy in front of her, with his angel blood and penchant for prejudice. But she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t rolled him down the stairs, and had gone to help Magnus instead; her best friend, drained of magic and still stubbornly trying to heal himself. She’d gone to the balcony afterwards to clear her mind for a minute, to rest her hands, and now, as she turns around to check in on Magnus…

The Shadowhunter is missing from his cot. Classic. Rolling her eyes, she opens the door to the master bedroom.

They’re lying in Magnus’s bed together, Magnus’s head pillowed on Alec Lightwood’s chest, nearly asleep as he slowly heals from the wounds of battle. His body still lies stiff from the aches of demon venom coursing through his blood, skin paler than its usual golden hue, bruises littered everywhere, yet his arm is still curled possessively around the Shadowhunter’s waist in a familiar motion.

And the Shadowhunter…

He’s looking at Magnus like he’s a miracle.

His eyes never leave Magnus’s and his face is soft and warm and content, like he’s holding onto something he thought he’d lost forever. He looks young like this, the way he smiles and whispers secrets into Magnus’s ear, the way his fingers trace patterns on his bare shoulder, the way he readjusts the red silk blanket so that it’s tucked carefully under Magnus’s chin.

Magnus can’t see it, with his face buried into the Shadowhunter’s shirt, but from the doorway, Catarina can. This boy… he’s truthfully, honestly, painfully in love. The type of love Catarina hasn’t seen Magnus receive in too long, the type that’s as helpless and natural as the sky is blue. And a part of her still wants to be angry, to shake Alec Lightwood until his teeth click in his skull, to tell him, don’t you ever hurt him, but from the way he’s staring down at Magnus with his heart in his eyes, she thinks he already knows.

Catarina starts to turn around, when unexpectedly Alec Lightwood’s eyes dart up to meet hers at the sound of her loafers swishing faintly against the rug. They stare, frozen for an awkward moment, and she nearly laughs at loud at the way his cheeks go rosy pink. She opens her mouth to say something, to make fun of him maybe, or tell him to let Magnus sleep, but right then Magnus shifts, groaning low in his throat, and the Shadowhunter breaks his gaze, mumbling something into Magnus’s hair that makes her friend smile gently.

Wordlessly, Catarina magics the door closed, staring at the smooth black wood as Magnus and Alec fade from view. In the kitchen, she makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, hands wrapped around the soothing, fragrant heat as she sighs in exhaustion. The two of them… they don’t make sense to her, not at all. They shouldn’t work. But Magnus is Magnus, and he’s never done anything by halves. If his happiness comes in the form of a too-tall Shadowhunter with gentle eyes and a cautious smile, then Catarina will be the very last person in this dimension to tell him no.

The Photograph

Hi babes! This is a fluffy oneshot about Peter having a crush on one of Michelle’s friends at Midtown High. One day, he spots her reading outside and secretly takes a photo of her because he thinks that she looks too perfect to go unseen, and he pins the photo up in the back of his locker. Everything is fine until Flash Thompson gets his hands on Peter’s photo and brings it to her attention. After that, awkward cuteness ensues and I hope that you all like it!

The Photograph

Hot licks of pain seared throughout Peter’s body. His lip was split, there was a purpling bruise on his temple that was accompanied by a headache so powerful that it’s aching refused to be ignored. Even walking from class to class was taking a toll on Peter. He was exhausted and in pain, but Peter remained hellbent on keeping Queens safe, no matter the cost.  

    Peter’s eyes glazed over and his body was ready to shut down. Doing his best to keep himself up on his feet, he focused on the photo that he had tacked up of her in the back of his locker.

    In the photo, the girl was outside, hidden beneath the shade of a rather large tree. She was stretched out on a light pink blanket, a copy of Charles Baudelaire’s, ‘The Flowers of Evil,’ open in front of her. There was a carton of fresh strawberries and a rather oversized iced coffee balanced haphazardly against her backpack on the ground with her, and every so often, Peter recalled how delightedly blissful she looked each time she bit into a ripe berry. The sun’s rays, the soft breeze wandering through the tree’s leaves, and the chatter bumbling down to her from their shared high school didn’t even faze the girl. Her mind remained with the poet’s.

    After a few minutes of watching her, Peter felt soothed. Everything about her made him feel better. He loved the way she licked her lips after she ate, he loved the way that she read her favorite verses aloud, he loved the way that she laughed at herself when she nearly spilled her coffee, and he loved the way that she helped him forget about the constant stress that was now heavily present in his life.

    When Peter finally snapped the photo, she was laying on her side, one hand wound into her silky hair to keep it out of her eyes, and the other hand holding her poetry book open. Her eyes were focused on comprehending the poems on each page, but she wore a soft smile on her lips that made it clear that she wasn’t scrutinizing anything too intensely. The girl was merely enjoying her free period in the sun and Peter longed to do the same.

    Since then, Peter looked for her in almost every hallway, in every classroom window, and everyday at lunch. They’d spoken a handful of times, seeing as they were in the same history class, but other than class discussions, Peter hadn’t mustered up the nerve to say hello outside of an intellectual, in-class debate.

    One day, she was late to history and when she’d walked into the room, she found that her normal seat next to the window had been taken, so she headed towards the first empty desk she saw. Peter, already occupying one of the seats, nearly suffered a heart attack when she placed her binder next to his and offered him a quiet “good morning.”

    It had taken Peter a few seconds to force his brain to form a response to her and then to get his mouth to open and say the words that his brain was attempting to communicate back to her. When he stuttered out, “hey, yeah, good morning,” she didn’t tease him for his weirdness, instead she smiled at him and Peter could’ve melted onto the floor right then and there.

    During that day’s lecture, their teacher was detailing women’s struggles throughout the years to gain the 19th amendment, which won women of all colors, and social standings the right to vote. She scribbled down notes and nodded in agreement with the teacher as she spoke of Ida B. Well’s, Lucy Burns’ and Alice Paul’s courageous actions in the suffrage movement. It was only after Flash Thompson opened his mouth that Peter observed a frown cross over her features.

    “Why didn’t they just keep doing what Florence Kelley advised? If they had followed her directions, they wouldn’t have gotten radical and thrown into prison. Florence Kelley was meeting with President Woodrow Wilson, and he explained to her why he couldn’t grant women suffrage right then, but he said he would going forward. The National Women’s Party didn’t know what they were doing, and furthermore, they set the women’s rights movement back with their crazy antics.” Flash finished, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

    Glancing over at the girl in the chair next to him, Peter knew that not only was Flash painfully incorrect and uneducated, but she was clearly getting ready to put Flash back into his place.

    “Wow, that’s actually so, so, so wrong.” She started, turning slightly in her chair to face Flash, “if Florence Kelley had kept asking President Wilson to recognize women as intelligent, reasonable beings capable of making a decisive decision, it’s unlikely that the 19th amendment would’ve been passed in 1920. The only reason women were granted suffrage is because of The National Woman’s Party. These women marched, were beaten in the streets, picketed in front of the White House, and were thrown into jail for the good of women everywhere. President Wilson only granted women the right to suffrage after women were dying in prison due to the hunger strike Alice Paul began. Not to mention, while these women were imprisoned, they were denied basic human rights and the entire reason they were in locked away in jail was because they were blocking traffic on the sidewalk. It took drastic measures to humanize women in men’s eyes and without the heroic antics of these women, who knows where women would stand today. I mean, a woman’s right to her own body is something that could be taken away at any moment, and women are constantly battling the image that men have imposed upon us. Therefore, your opinion is invalid because you apparently cannot grasp the severity of the situation, past and present.”

    Peter, as well as the rest of the class, was stunned into silence. Normally, she didn’t partake in class discussions because she was shy, but now that she had, everyone in the room was shocked by the intellect that she had just destroyed Flash with. Peter wanted nothing more than to hear her speak all day, and maybe to introduce her to Aunt May.

    Peter could barely focus as Michelle began to back her up. Leaning closer to the wonderfully insightful girl next to him, Peter let her know just how clever he found her. “That was amazing, everything you said was perfect and spot-on. That was the greatest thing that I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait for you do it again.” Peter congratulated the girl.

    “You don’t think it was too much?” She asked worriedly, biting her lip and fiddling with the pencil in her hands.

    Peter shook his head, his eyes wide, “No, no! Absolutely not! You would’ve made Alice Paul very proud.”

    Placing a hand atop of his, she thanked him with a smile. “You’re the best, Peter,” she said before turning her focus back to their teacher.

    After that, she had joined Peter on Flash’s hit-list, so Peter should’ve known better than to try and relax with his locker wide open. Peter was knocked out of his daydream of going home to her and simply curling up around her to sleep by Flash’s grabby hand, first shoving him out of the way, and then stealing his photo of her.

    As Flash rushed down the hall, Peter struggled after him, both boys trying to beat each other to where she stood deep in conversation with Michelle about the numerous male authors whose most famous novels were stolen works from their wives.

    “Flash, don’t” Peter shouted, as he tried to ignore the shooting pain traveling up his body.

    “Too late, Penis Parker,” Flash called as he weaved gracefully inbetween students to get to their target.

    “Oh my gosh,” Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes as she nodded her head towards the two boys heading their way. “Losers.”

    “His lip is bleeding,” She said, concern lacing into her tone. “Do you think he’s okay?”

    “Your boyfriend is fine, probably tripped over a lego or something on his way to the bathroom and banged his head into the wall on his way down.” Michelle tried to reason with her friend. She’d detected that her friend and Peter had the biggest of crushes on one another way before either one of them had, and she had made it her mission to mock them every chance she got.

    Flash was the first to reach the two girls, holding up the photo of her that Peter had taken of her reading outside. “Parker, Penis.” He wheezed, “Penis Parker took this picture of you and had it taped up behind his textbooks in his locker.” Bending over to soothe the splint in his side, Flash handed the photo to the confused girl in front of him.

    As Peter came to a stop in front of her and Michelle, he groaned and threw his hands up into the air, uttering a barely audible, “fuck.”

    When the girls saw Peter up close, they found that Peter was barely recognizable due to all of the bruises masking his pale skin. Quickly handing the photo to Michelle, the girl surged forward, lightly grabbing onto Peter’s sweater to steady him. “Peter, what happened to you? You’re hurt,” she questioned, growing a little more distraught as she studied him face to face.

    “The picture, I’m sorry, I know it’s so creepy. I didn’t mean to be a weirdo and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I swear that I’m not stalking you.” Peter mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to keep his lip from bleeding.

    “Peter, I don’t care about the photo. What happened to you? Oh no, your lip is bleeding,” She rambled, steering Peter towards the bench nearest to them. “Sit,” she instructed, digging through her backpack for a tissue to dab Peter’s cut with.

    “You’re seriously not going to say anything about the picture he clearly took of you?” Flash whined, refusing to accept defeat.

    Michelle raised her eyebrows, “No, I think it’s disturbing too. You’re not alone in that, Flash.”

    “Do you need ice?” She asked Peter, guiding Peter to look up so she could inspect his face for any further damage. “You need ice, Michelle, could you please go get him ice? Flash, could you please go away?” She asked, looking at the pair over her shoulder.

    Flash was nearly beside himself, “it’s weird! You have to acknowledge that it’s weird that he not only took a photo of you without your knowledge, but that he has it pinned up like you are his girlfriend or something? Really not going to say anything about that?”

    “For all you know,” she said, turning to face Flash as she did that day in class, “Peter could very well be my boyfriend!”

    Peter’s jaw dropped so far that she had to readjust his head to keep the tissue on his open wound. Gently prying her helping hand from his lip, “wait, really?” Peter asked. “You’d be my girlfriend after all this?”

    “This is disgusting,” Michelle interjected. Handing Peter’s photo back to him, she grabbed Flash by the collar of his polo shirt and dragged him down the hallway. “We’ll be back with ice and some band-aids.”

    She and Peter could hear Flash’s discontented grumbles as he followed Michelle down to the nurse’s office to retrieve some medical aid for Peter.

    “Are you really not freaked out?” Peter asked, staring up at her with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

    Sighing, she moved to stand in between Peter’s legs to inspect how much further his lip had split. “If you keep talking, the cut is never going to heal. This,” she gestured to Peter’s clearly damaged frame, “freaks me out more than anything. What’s happening to you? If I can help you, please let me. I care about you and I hate that you’re hurt.” She pouted.

    She was so close that Peter could smell all the floral notes in her perfume, and if he wanted to, he could hug himself close to her and never let go. “I can’t tell you what’s happening, but if I stop, things will get worse. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’m trying to help.”

    Running a hand through his hair, she shook her head. “Then let me help you. If you’re helping everyone, you deserve to have someone help you, and I want you to let me be that person, Peter.”

    Pinching the palm of his hand, Peter spotted Flash and Michelle returning with ice, ointment and bandages in hand, and he knew that he had to be quick. “It would really help me if you went out to dinner with me. Just being with you would help me. That’s why I took the picture of you. Every day that I felt like I was drowning, I would look at you, well the picture of you, and it would help me to breath again.”

    “Pick me up on Saturday. I’ll be ready at 7:30,” she agreed, much to not only Peter’s, but Flash’s surprise.

    “Come on!” Flash hissed, “how is it that Parker gets a date with a hot girl after he hides in the bushes and takes secret pictures of her? What the hell is going on right now? Do I live in the twilight zone?”

    “For fucks sake, Flash.” Michelle muttered, turning to him with squared shoulders, “she clearly knew that he was taking the photos of her. Who would smile while reading ‘The Flowers of Evil?’ And beyond that, she’s liked him for months and he’s liked her for months. All you’ve really done is finally bring them closer together. Congratulations Flash, your plan has officially backfired.”

    Flash groaned throughout the rest of the day and Michelle planned on teasing him for the rest of the school year. The girl’s cheeks were flushed pink until she went to sleep, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling, even though it only made the split in his lip worse.