there is a chance the worst day might still be coming

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS

Following my AUs and Prompts List from a few months back, here is a compilation of my favorite sentence starters for all your writing needs.

Because most of them aren’t mine, credits are at the end.

SHORT

“Marry me.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“You are not going without me.”

“I can’t believe you!”

“I swear it won’t happen again.”

“What did you say?”

“I’m not jealous.”

"You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Are you sure this is legal?”

“Isn’t this amazing?”

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Stay the night. Please.”

“You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

“Run away with me.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Quit whining.”

“Get outta my sight!”

“Why are you so annoying?”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

"Never in a million years.”

“Don’t ask me that…”

“I might have had a few shots.”

“What’s with the box?”

“W- What are you doing?”

“Say it!”

“I could kiss you right now!”

“Are you done with that?”

“What’s going on here?”

“Stop pinning this on me! You started it!”

“It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”

“Did you do this on purpose?!”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you still awake..?”

“Excuse you?”

“This is all your fault!”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!”

“I shouldn’t be in love with you!”

“It’s not fair!”

“I could kill you right now!”

“Knock it off!”

“Screw you!”

“You’re a complete moron!”

“I love this song!”

“I can’t be in love with you!”

“Make me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I hate you.”

“You are infuriating!”

“Just shut up already.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Bite me.”

“Eat me.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Just admit I’m right.”

“Just admit you’re wrong.”

“You are being ridiculous!”

“That’s irrational.”

“Listen to me!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“That’s it. End of discussion.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You shouldn’t have said that.”

“Fuck you!”

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

“How dare you?”

“I dare you!” 

“It’s you, it’s always been you.” 

“Well this is awkward…”

“Just pretend to be my date”.  

MISCELLANEOUS

“Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

“The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”

“I just did some calculations, and I’ve been able to determine that you’re full of shit.”

“You know what I like most about people? Pets.”

“Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”

“What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.”

“I don’t hate you.. I just don’t like that you exist.”

“Love is the jelly to sunshine’s peanut butter. And if I tell you that I’m in sandwich with you, I’m not just saying it to get in your Ziploc bag.”

“Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system.”

“Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?”

“Can I touch your boob?”

“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”

“You shouldn’t be trusted with small children, should you?”

“Give me cake or give me death.”

“On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you?”

“You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”

“Despite the cliche, it’s not me, it’s you.”

“Obviously you can’t tell a woman you just met that you love her, but it sucks that you can’t.”

“No, it was my fault for thinking that you might care.”

“When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!”

“If you’re not scared, then you’re not taking a chance. If you’re not taking a chance, then what the hell are we doing anyway?”

“I think I’ve been holding myself back from falling in love with you all over again.”

“What have I told you about the toilet seat?”

“I tried to change the duvet and I got stuck inside.”

“I vote today to be a pajama day.”

“You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“I don’t leave messages. If I wanted to talk to a machine, I’d talk to my VCR.”

“I can be flexible. As long as everything is exactly the way I want it, I’m totally flexible.”

“You know we’re suppose to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”

“Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

“I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.”

“What I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring loudly at me.”

“I am NOT crying, okay?! I’m allergic to jerks!”

“This would not happen if I had a penis!”

“That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.”

“All nighter, you and me. First one to fall sleep buys the other dinner.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to touch your butt.”

“I’m ok, thank you. Just please, stop talking to me.”

“To the night you’ll never remember!”

“Excuse me, did the 12:15 bus come by already?”

“Could I sit here? All the other tables are full.”

“Are you meeting someone here? Because.. I think I’m that person.”

“You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed!”

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his/her cake hole.”

“I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.”

“You better take care of that car or I swear I’ll haunt your ass!”

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.“

“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

“I could do that, but could doesn’t mean would.”

“You cannot fathom the immensity of the fucks I don’t give.”

“You’re like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach me, shortie?”

"I recognize that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it”

“Do you need me to kill someone for you?”

“Look out where you’re going, asshole!”

“Fuck the sandwich guy!”

“I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”

“The whole street is blocked off. The police won’t tell us anything, but I think there’s been some kind of attack… Maybe a bomb?”

“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m calling the police. I think I saw who did this to you.”

“I’m weird, you’re weird, we could have weird little babies and live weirdly ever after if it wasn’t for the fact I find you repulsive.”

“There is nothing wrong with planning a wedding with a video game character.”

“I’m gonna lay down and die for like half hour okay?”  

“There’s been some real friction in our friend group lately. I suggest an orgy to save our friendships.”

“It’s midnight, what do you want?”

“I think I know how to use a bed.”

“If I wake up in the morning and I’m dead… Wait.”

“You are completely unfit to handle a child.”

“We have to get out of this place. It is EVIL.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

“When in doubt curl into the fetal position and give up on life.”

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and forth wheeling.”

PREGNANCY

“I have something to tell you…”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant!”

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

“You’re smart and successful with an adorable belly.”

“$50 bucks says it’s a girl/boy.”

“Pregnancy suits you…”

“Hello little one. We can’t wait to meet you…”

“I’ll just be in the bathroom throwing my fucking guts up because our unborn kid wants to be a dick!”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet…”

“Shh… He/she’s sleeping..”

“I have a special surprise for you. Close your eyes and follow me.”

“No, no, no, no, no, we aren’t ready… We aren’t ready for kids yet!”

“Oh, gosh, I felt it! I felt a kick!”

FLUFF

“Your hair is so soft…”

“You’re so cute when you pout like that!”

“Just relax, I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

“What, does that feel good?”

“HA! I found a weak-spot on you, didn’t I?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“You are ridiculously comfortable…”

“I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with…”

“You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this…”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“We should get a puppy!”

STARGAZING

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”

“Shooting star, make a wish.”

“It’s actually a comet, but I’ll still make one.”

“Imagine if it could always be this way, even in the city.”

“Never thought something so beautiful could exist in nature…”

“Wouldn’t it be cool to name a star after yourself?”

“Y'know, your roof may not be the safest place for us to stargaze.”

“This is why you made me drive three hours out into the middle of nowhere?”

“Is that a– Wait, no, just an airplane.”

“I wouldn’t mind falling asleep out here.

FLIRTY/SUGGESTIVE/SEXUAL

“Did you just… finish?”

“They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous.”

“I’m not actually feeling anything.”

“Are you getting any closer?”

“Why do they make this look so easy in all those porn movies?! This hurts like fuck!”

“Did something just happen? You’re not turned on anymore.”

“Shit sorry, am I going too fast?”

“Wow, you’re hot.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“Hey, I’m open minded.”

“Keep sweet-talking and this could go a whole new direction.”

“I think it’s about time we stop avoiding the obvious.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you. I’m really horny, and you’re really hot. Can we fuck? Like, now?”

“I see someone’s happy to see me.”

“I saw that. You just checked me out.”

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

“Take off your clothes.”

“Tell all those other guys/girls you don’t need them ‘cause you got me.”

“Don’t give me that face, it’s so cute I might not be able to hold back.”

“Boobs are really just squishy pillows.”

“If you don’t get turned on by having your neck kissed somethings wrong with you.”

“Blasphemy! Sex solves everything.”

“I platonically want to have sex with you. No big deal.”

TEXTS

[text]: What do you want now?

[text]: Do you want to bet on that?

[text]: Guess who just got back in town.

[text]: So I might be in a hospital right now…

[text]: We can’t keep doing this anymore!

[text]: Come on, come to the party!

[text]: Can you pick me up from the bar? Too drunk to drive.

[text]: You have no clue how I feel so shut up.

[text]: I call bullshit.

[text]: You thought you could get away with that, didn’t you?

[text] I gave up great shower sex to be here so don’t say I never did anything for our friendship.

[text] Living alone for four weeks has given me unrealistic expectations of pantslessness.

[text] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

[text] Who says no to sex and donuts?!

[text] I know what you did last summer…

Sources: x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

anyone else still sometimes catch themselves thinking about how after all those years of idolizing dave strider and after all that time in the void session wondering and anticipating and nervously awaiting this theoretical possibility that he might get the chance to meet him, dirk finally fucking sits down with dave one on one hours from the final battle and like wow fucking surprise motherfucker

he gets to find out his literal worst fears were ACTUALLY true! the version of him that dave knew actually did, in fact, do his level best to ruin dave’s life and was an abusive, toxic influence from day one and throughout to the point where dave can’t even look at him without flinching! 

this coming at a time when dirk is already horrendously low on himself, his relationship with Jake literally just blew up like 3 hours ago and if the AR thing went down even remotely the same way there was also that and holy hell dude what a time to be informed about the existence of Bro Strider. Dirk is sitting there thinking he was a toxic influence to Jake from moment one and probably all of his friends the whole time and here Dave is confirming everything from a parallel perspective? 

you can just see this horrible gut clenching moment when this utterly defeated Dirk just meekly accepts that this other version of himself is reflective of his true innermost self and has justifiably ruined any chance he ever had of impressing or even knowing Dave

– and then you see Dave just immediately lift it off him, even get kinda angry at him for having the audacity to even try accepting it that way, you can FEEL Dave’s fucking confusion because he went in guns blazing expecting a confrontation with someone as impossible and inscrutable as Bro was. Dave went in expecting to punch a brick wall and get nowhere, and instead he got Dirk “you’re absolutely right and I’m so fucking sorry I ruined your life” Strider 

and from Dirk’s pov, listening to this, watching this, having this realization that this dave isn’t an untouchable, aloof, mysterious and mythical heroic figure of legend at all, but that only makes him MORE worthy of idolization in all the ways that genuinely matter – and simultaneously thinking that he’s already sabotaged himself out of the chance to know him at all.

It’s like, god, you know those hyperrealistic nightmares people have sometimes that are so fucking scary because they’re indistinguishable from real life, the ones where after you wake up it takes a long time for the understanding that it was actually just a dream to hit you and then you want to cry with relief? 

For Dirk this had to have been so much like that, the whiplash between being 100% sure that Dave was just going to say what he needed to say and then never speak to him again (and knowing Dirk would have considered it completely justified and never questioned his right to do so jesus christ) followed IMMEDIATELY by Dave just being like no you don’t get it, THIS you, this version of you, what I am looking for deep down in my fucking SOUL is for this you that you are right now to be a person that I can have in my life to tell me that I’m okay, that you’re okay, that WE’RE okay – and after fifteen minutes talking to you I can already immediately tell that you ARE that person. 

Dirk’s friends were always only interested in denying the possibility that Dirk could ever truly become a monster, they could never have possibly understood just how DARK Dirk is at his most self destructive, and that’s part of why their reassurances were always hollow for him – they didn’t GET IT, right, they never could have followed the rabbit hole all the way down, so what did they know? But this guy, Dave Strider, has literally seen Dirk at his worst, has lived through the actual reality of the worst things living inside the full-picture potential of Dirk Strider, has dealt with that to great personal detriment and is fucking STILL sitting here telling him “I can tell that you are different, I can tell that you are better, and I am willing to trust you and help you to become a better person than the guy I knew because at the end of the fucking day, you are too important to me to give up on”

like yeah confronting dirk with all of that was what dave needed absolutely but BEING confronted and ultimately forgiven by dave was what dirk needed too, just as much

in conclusion homestuck is good

wingardium-letmefuckyou  asked:

Hey, I love your gods&monsters series, could you write something about Apollo? ^Preferably something with a positive vibe, something romantic... But that's totally up to you, anything about Apollo makes me happy

Apollo has many sons.

He only ever has nine daughters.

~

He has his first when he’s young, too young to know better.

Daphne is beautiful and coy, and leads him on a merry chase. He catches her, and finally silences her laughing mouth with his own. They sleep together, and she leaves bite marks up his neck.

Her father, the river god Peneus, finds out about them. Apollo had not known it was secret. Peneus is a hard, selfish god, and he slits Daphne’s throat for her impurity. Better a dead daughter then one who does not listen.

Apollo finds out too late. He arrives to Daphne dead on the side of her father’s riverbank, stomach swollen in a way Apollo doesn’t remember it being the last time he saw her, which was – which was – it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

He cuts open her stomach, throat too tight to call for his sister’s help, heart too tight to bear anyone else looking at Daphne’s slack, bloody face.

The child is still warm.

The child is still alive.

He cannot bring himself to bury Daphne, to sentence her to an afterlife beneath the earth. Instead, he transforms her into a large laurel tree, so her beauty will remain eternal. He presses a hand against her trunk and says, “My hair will have you, my lyre will have you, my quiver will have you.” Apollo looks down at the baby, too small, tucking into the crook of his arm. “Our daughter will have you.”

He calls her Calliope. Their daughter weaves laurel leaves into her hair every day of her life.

~

When he is older, but not wiser, he gets drunk on the top of Olympus. It is not the first time, nor the last, but this time it is different.

This time Hestia, goddess of the hearth, of warmth, of family, places her delicate hand around the back of his neck and leads him to her rooms.

Months later, he lands his chariot, the sun finally set. His arms are shaking, and his legs are covered from burns when the sun grew tired and tried to consume him, but could not. Hestia stands before him, something held in her arms. “What’s wrong?” he asks roughly, throat dry and the skin of his lips cracking. Hestia rarely leaves Olympus.

“I am no mother,” she tells him, and he doesn’t understand until she places a warm, squirming bundle in his arms. He holds it to his chest automatically. “Her name is Terpsichore.”

She leaves before he has the chance to question her. He looks down, and the baby has his golden eyes and her dark hair. “Hello, little one.”

Calliope is fully grown now. Apollo leaves Terpsichore in her care, and promises to come when called.

“Yes, Father,” Calliope says, rolling her eyes as her little sister grabbing fistfuls of her curly hair. There’s an ink smudge across her face, and her home is bursting with books. He should really talk to Athena about letting Calliope use one of her libraries.

He kisses both their foreheads before leaving.

~

Apollo falls in love with a Spartan prince, graceful and strong and with a wide, pretty mouth. He falls in love with a mind that can match him, with a smile that leaves him breathless. Hyacinth captures his affections and attentions utterly, and for a few short years Apollo is enchanted, for a few short years Apollo feels a love deep in his chest that is only surpassed by the love he has for his sister.

Then Hyacinth is killed.

He shows up at his daughters’ door, and Calliope and Terpsichore take one look at him and usher him inside. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he’s covered in blood that isn’t his own, is pale and shaken and mourning.

They clean him and care for him and settle him to bed, although he cannot bring himself to sleep.

Less than a week later, there is a mortal woman there looking for him. Her eyes are red, but she stands tall and her lips are pressed into a straight line. A toddler who shares her dark coloring clutches her skirt. “I am the Princess of Sparta, and wife of Hyacinth.”

Apollo hadn’t known Hyacinth had a wife. He hadn’t asked. Surely he would have noticed – but then again, perhaps not. Love makes people stupid. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“As I am sorry for yours,” she says in return, which surprises him. “Sparta must have a prince. I am to be remarried.” She brings the little girl forward, and she can’t be more than a couple years old. “This is Urania, the child of myself and my husband. I have been ordered to kill her.”

Apollo flinches. He knows such things are done, but – she is Hyacinth’s daughter. “I will take her.”

She smiles. “I thought you might.” She kisses the girl on both cheeks, hands her to Apollo, then leaves as quickly as she’d came.

Urania watches them with big liquid eyes that she got from her mother. He stays with his daughters for a year after that, playing with Urania and watching Terpsichore dance and listening to Calliope’s beautiful poetry. Urania loves the stars. She stares up at them each night, and Apollo patiently explains the name of each one.

When she is fully grown, he begs a piece of ambrosia off Hestia and feeds it to her.

Urania is his daughter as surely as if his blood ran through her veins. He cannot bear to watch her age and die.

~

Marpessa chooses Ida over him, but it is too late. She already swells with his child, and he could use that to keep her. He could force her to stay at his side, she loves him, she said so, it would not be such a cruel thing.

But she is not wrong in her assessment. Apollo is immortal, and will not grow old with her, will not change with her, will not die with her. Ida will.

There’s fear on her face, and he thinks she deserves it, for proclaiming to love him and choosing another. But he is not interested in keeping her captive for a lifetime.

“Have the child, and give it to me,” he commands, “and I will leave you to your life.”

Ida is furious in his jealousy that Marpessa will bear a child for Apollo before she bears a child for him, so there is that comfort, at least.

Artemis delivers the child to ensure it goes smoothly. She’s beaming as she holds her niece. “What will you call her?”

“You choose,” he says, running the back of his finger over the babe’s soft cheek.

His sister considers the squalling child for a long moment before she says, “I think you should name her Thalia.”

“Thalia it is,” he says.

She’s mischievous, and reminds him of himself on his worst days. She grows, and pulls pranks on nymphs and deities. Her older sisters are constantly straining to keep her out of worse trouble.

He gets a frantic message from Calliope that Thalia has gone missing, and he eventually finds her at the edge of a scorched battlefield, the soldiers long gone but the bodies and stench remaining. He’s furious at her for going to a place so dangerous, but when he marches up to her he sees something that he hadn’t expected.

She’s hallway through a story about pranking a wood nymph that he knows is at least half lies and a quarter exaggeration. Curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs so hard he can’t breathe, is Ares.

Apollo hasn’t seen the tormented god of war this carefree since he was a child.

Thalia finally notices him, and cuts herself off, paling. “Oh, uh. Hi Dad.”

Ares is downright giggling. “Hello Thalia,” Apollo crosses his arms and glares, “You shouldn’t go wandering away from your sisters.” She winces and nods, ducking her head to look up at him through her eyelashes, doing her best to look contrite and innocent.

It might have worked, if Apollo hadn’t taught her that look himself.

He sits down on the ground next to Ares, who doesn’t acknowledge his presence beyond shifting enough to use Apollo’s thigh as his pillow. “Well,” Apollo says, “keep going.”

Thalia lights up and launches back into the story, and when she finishes she continues into another which is mostly true and somehow even more ridiculous.

~

Because he’s an idiot with a death wish, Apollo ends up spending a month with Hecate in the underworld. He stumbles out one night when she falls asleep, because he feels if he doesn’t leave now there’s a possibility that he never will.

One of the most horrifying moments of his life is looking for the way out, and finding Hades instead. The god of death looks to him, walking around naked in his realm, to the direction he came from, and says, “That was you? Are you crazy?”

“It … it was a good time,” he says faintly.

“Obviously,” Hades shakes his head, and slices his hand down in the air in front of them, creating a doorway for Apollo out of his realm.

Apollo gives him a clumsy salute and steps through.

Roughly a year later, he’s playing his lyre when a little girl with black skin and grey hair and eyes appears in front of him. It’s terrifying enough that he accidentally snaps one of his strings.

“Lady Styx,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The child snorts and reaches her hands into absolutely nothing and pulls out a baby. She holds it out to him. “Hecate says this is your problem now.”

Improbably, the babe already has a mouth full of too-sharp teeth. Her eyes shift between every color, unable to decide, and there is something a little too knowing about her face for one so young. Artemis says he too was born knowing too much.

A child of Apollo and Hecate can only be a mistake, something that will never fit quite well among others of her own kind.

He sighs and take the baby. “Very well.”

“I like the name Clio,” the child goddess says before leaving him.

Thalia tells him it’s too small and to give it back. Urania is fascinated, and takes over most of the child’s care, which is likely for the best since Calliope is neck deep into a new epic, and would be cross if she needed to pull her attention from it to rear a child.

As Clio ages, she stays just as unsettling and strange. Hephaestus shows up around the time she starts breaking into Athena’s libraries, even though stunts like that get people worse than killed. “I don’t know why she gave her to me,” Apollo says as they watch the teenager devouring a stolen tome on the history of the Persian Empire. “Hecate raised you, I don’t understand why she didn’t want to raise her actual daughter.”

“You’re a better parent than she is,” he says thoughtfully. Apollo gives him an unimpressed look, but he says, “I’m serious. Your girls are turning out to be quite lovely – all of them.”

“Of course they are,” he says, nose in the air, but grins when Hephaestus elbows him the side.

By the time she’s an adult, Clio is easily one of the most accomplished scholars to ever exist. She and Athena regularly get into academic debates that last weeks, and scare off anyone from daring to come closer.

She stays strange, and too smart, and Apollo loves her utterly.

~

Apollo is lying on the beach when a large wave overtakes him and drags him into the sea. He struggles for the surface, but can’t seem to shake the waves, and is dragged to the sea floor. He’s a god, so he won’t suffocate, but he’s terrified when the water drags him down to Poseidon’s palace and deposits him in front of his wife. “Apollo,” she says, “I can see what your daughters will become.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

Amphitrite grabs his jaw and pulls him closer. He doesn’t dare resist. She looks into his eyes, then smirks. “The god of prophecy doesn’t know that which he has wrought. How … ironic.”

“Is it?” he wonders. He really hopes she doesn’t kill him.

“Quite,” she smirks, and with a flick of her wrist she’s naked before him. “I wish for one of your daughters to be mine as well. Lay with me.”

“Uh,” he says eloquently, because Amphitrite has never given her husband any children, he hadn’t even known she could. If he sleeps with her, Poseidon might kill him, regardless of how many people the god of the sea sleeps with that aren’t his wife. But if he refuses her, she might kill him, and it’s not like having sex with Amphitrite is any sort of hardship. She’s as gorgeous as she is terrifying. “Okay.”

He’s deposited back on the shore the next day, feeling oddly used.

If Poseidon has any opinions on Apollo knocking up his wife, he doesn’t voice them.

Amphitrite doesn’t foist the baby upon him as soon as she’s born. Instead years pass, and one day a dark skinned, amber eyed sea god shows up at his door. There’s a teenager at his side, who has Apollo’s coloring and Amphitrite’s bone structure, and hair that shimmers golden-green in sunlight. “Glaucus,” Apollo greets warily, “and who might this be?”

“I call her Erato,” Glaucus says, “I’ve raised her since birth. It’s time for her to join her sisters.”

Erato is not as terrifying as her mother. Instead there’s a sweetness about her that she must have gotten from Glaucus. She’s shy at first, and spends many days looking out into the sea. But his daughters are persistent, and soon she’s laughing and joining them. There’s something dreamy about her, and she loves love, writes romantic ballads and beautiful poems, so much so that Aphrodite commends her talent.

Erato is also the most like him in the area of her love life, meaning she leaves behind a constant trail of heartbroken men and women.

Calliope complains about the constant wailing around their home, and Clio proves she has some of her mother’s talent with magic when she casts an unplotable spell around their home so former lovers stop following Erato home. Of course, she forgets to tell both Apollo and her sisters about this, and it’s very confusing for everyone until Clio remembers to tell them where the house is.

His daughters’ home is a place of constant music, poetry, and literature. He thinks he’s starting to suspect what Amphitrite was talking about.

~

Not all hunts are easy things.

Apollo feels the moment his sister is wounded, the arrow through her abdomen as painful for him as it is for her. He’s in his chariot, and he can’t leave it, if he leaves his chariot unattended the sun will consume it, and then consume the earth. “Calliope!” he snaps, and his eldest daughter appears by his side.

“Father?” she asks, huddling into him and away from the sun. “What’s going on?”

“Artemis is hurt, I have to help,” he says urgently, and places the reins into her hands. “You can do this.”

She pales, but steps forward, keeping a white knuckled grip on the chariot. “Go.”

He kisses his forehead, and goes to his sister. Her huntresses have set up an honor guard around her, defending and dying as cruel faced giants draws closer. “ARES!” he screams, and he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for, what this war is about, but it doesn’t matter. “WE NEED YOU!”

The god of war appears, and he’s clearly come from some other battle, covered in mud and other worse things. He throws himself into the battle, but it’s not until they gain more aid that the tides turn in their favor.

He first sees Erato on the field, water swirling around her as she slices through them all, the power of her mother making her golden eyes glow. Clio is at her back, the glittering magic Hecate passed on to her filling her hands.

Thalia has long curved knives flying from her fingers, and all who face her don’t figure out they’re dead until she’s already left them behind. Urania is letting loose arrows against the giants and though she’s not his by blood, not a goddess by birth, none would know it watching each of her arrows hit true and take down another enemy.

Terpsichore uses her honed abilities of dance differently here on the battlefield, twirling and ducking around enemies with her sword flashing as it slices through all who go against her. Celestial fire licks up the sword, and the daughter of Hestia and Apollo is laughing as she dances through the battlefield.

He wants to yell at them, to tell them to get off the battlefield, to get to safety. But it is thanks to them that the fight is being won, so he says nothing.

Ares looks around, grimaces, and catches Apollo’s eye before he disappears from the battle. They must be invoking his name. Apollo is only grateful he managed to stay as long as he did.

The giants are all dead by the time Apollo manages to make it to his sister’s side. She’s pale and covered in blood, her huntresses seated around her and trying to stop the bleeding. “What were you thinking?” Apollo demands, grabbing her hand and pushing her hair from her forehead. Terpsichore comes forward and lays her burning sword against the wound, sealing and cauterizing it at once. Both Apollo and Artemis scream

“They – took – a – child,” she pants, leaning in for his touch, for his comfort, and he has never been able to deny her anything. He pulls her up, biting back a scream at the pain that rips through them both, and props her up against his chest. “A – nymph’s child. Zeus’s child. They killed – it’s mother. That – that sort of injustice will – will not be – tolerated.” She lays her head back against his shoulder, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Apollo almost wishes the battle were not over, because he wants to murder something.

“I’ll get it,” Erato says, and a moment later she returns with a toddler in her arms. She has the copper skin of Zeus, and pale blonde hair. “What do we do now? Zeus does not care for his children.”

“I think it’s time you became a big sister,” Thalia says, and Erato looks stricken. “Right Dad?”

He looks to his sister, who nods. “I can think of no better place for her. She cannot stay with me – a hunting party is not place for children.”

“Very well,” he sighs. “Does she have a name?”

The girl attempts to hide behind Erato’s hair, then says, “I am Euterpe.”

“Welcome, Euterpe,” he says.

It’s then that the sun finally sets, and Calliope stumbles into existence next to them. She’s covered in deep, bleeding burns, but it’s not as bad he feared it would be. She’s certainly faired better at her first time driving the chariot than he had. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“We have a new sister,” Thalia says brightly, even as Clio rushes forward to tend to her burns.

Euterpe, thankfully, seems to inherit none of Zeus’s madness. She has a singing voice like a clear bell, and soon surpasses even Calliope’s talent with the lyre.

He knows, technically, that Euterpe is his half-sister. But it takes him no time at all to regard her as his daughter, to love her with same simple ferocity as he loves her sisters.

~

For a while, all is well, is quiet. His daughters are all fully grown, accomplished and beautiful.

Then Demeter corners him when he’s walking through quiet city and pins him against an alley wall. “If Amphitrite thinks she can one up me over this,” the goddess hisses, “she’s sorely mistaken.”

At least this time he knows what’s going on when Demeter starts pulling her dress off. “You can’t raise the child,” he says. He’s not adverse to laying with Demeter, although at this rate it looks like there will be less laying and more standing against a rough alley wall. But Demeter only knows how to love in a way that crushes all it touches. He won’t let her do that to his child.

“Fine,” she snaps, “Now get moving.”

He’s vaguely terrified the whole time, and it mostly reminds him of his month with Hecate. He’s left alone and naked in the alleyway an hour later.

Nine months later, a baby is delivered to his door by a nervous wood nymph. His daughter still has the squashed appearance of a freshly born baby. “She didn’t waste any time,” he comments, settling her into the crook of his arms. “Does she have a name?”

“Polyhymnia, my lord,” the wood nymph says, then bows before fleeing.

He brings her to the home where all his daughters live.

She grows, and she’s the spitting image of Demeter, of Persephone back when she answered to the name Kore. Her voice is lower than Euterpe’s, but just as pretty and when they sing together it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s quiet, and thoughtful, her big brown eyes watching all around her with a measured stare.

Polyhymnia asks after her mother, something none of the others had done, and Apollo doesn’t know what to say. The truth is too callous, but he can’t bear to lie to her. Instead he begs an audience with Persephone, and says, “Your sister asks after the mother you share. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Persephone has no advice to offer, but she starts spending some of her time outside of the underworld with Polyhymnia. It is enough, and her questions stop, and Apollo tries not to feel guilty that he never really answered them.

~

Cassandra is unlike any woman he’s ever met, unlike any person he’s ever met, and the flames of love and passion burn inside him in a way they haven’t since his Hyacinth died.

She’s bull headed and irritating, and whenever he tries to complain about it Artemis rolls her eyes and his daughters laugh at him. He supposes he’s not doing a very good job hiding that he’s in love with her. Not even from her, because at one point she crossly asks if he’s ever planning to do anything with her, or if she should accept the offer from the butcher’s son.

They don’t leave her house for five days.

She is curious, hungry for knowledge, hungrier for it then she is of him. She wants to know impossible things, wants to be an impossible thing, and so Apollo laughs and takes her hand and says, “I will make you a bargain. I will give you the gift of prophecy, if you will grant me the gift of your hand.”

He’s never take a bride before. He hasn’t wanted to.

Cassandra is screaming and laughing, and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him until she’s breathless. He takes it as a yes.

That’s when everything goes horribly, incredibly wrong.

It’s too much, all the horror she sees is too much, and Apollo tries to tell her to focus on the good, to see the happiness of the future. But she can’t, gets too caught up in too many wars, and she wastes away in front of his eyes even as her stomach swells.

He tries to take back the gift, tries to save her, but he can’t. It cannot be ungiven, and his headstrong, vivacious lover fades before his eyes. He only manages to alter it, to change it so no one believes the horrible things she cries to prevent the horror people feel when she looks at them and screams the way that they’ll die.

Artemis helps deliver their child, but halfway through her face goes pinched and worried, and Apollo knows that Cassandra won’t make it.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, kissing her gaunt face, feeling the sharpness of her cheekbones under his lips, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t want this to happen.”

She looks at him with glassy eyes, barely reacts when Artemis places their child on her chest. There’s a growing pool of blood under her, but she can’t be saved, she will die, here, now.

Apollo wonders if she saw this coming.

She blinks, and meets his gaze with a sharpness and awareness he hasn’t seen for a long time. “She is your last daughter,” Cassandra says, “Melpomene is the last daughter you will have.”

He kisses her, his last chance to do so.

She’s dead before his lips leaves hers.

Apollo tries to flee, to run from the claws tearing apart his heart, but Artemis doesn’t let him. She yanks him back and pushes Melpomene into his arms. “You can’t leave,” she says harshly, “She needs you. Your daughter needs you. You’re not allowed to run.”

He crumples, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sobs, and her calloused hand grasps the back of his neck. Melpomene is stuck between them, soft and warm and alive.

Time passes.

Melpomene is Thalia’s other half, her best friend, and they do everything together. Her dark hair is a mass of unruly curls just like her mother, her laughter is just like her mother’s.

She, like her sisters, is his pride and his joy.

~

Apollo has nine daughters

Calliope, who reigns over written epics.

Terpsichore, who reigns over dance.

Urania, who reigns over astronomy.

Thalia, who reigns over comedy.

Clio, who reigns over history.

Erato, who reigns over love poetry.

Euterpe, who reigns over song.

Polyhymnia, who reigns over hymns.

Melpomene, who reigns over tragedy.

They are known as the Muses.


gods and monster series, part xxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

anonymous asked:

Headcanons for losers club meeting in group therapy.

I took this a bit further than I meant to, I hope you like it though because I love addressing mental health
(I based it off my own experiences and knowledge so I’m so so sorry if anything is not accurate)

- They all have the same therapist (she’s called Jackie) but they’ve never met each other

- she takes them all for different things

- Bill has depression from loosing his brother (‘n-n-not dead…j-j-just m-m-missing) and anger issues from getting frustrated with his stutter

- Beverly has depression and PTSD from her father and addiction to smoking

- Ben has social anxiety and topophobia from moving so much and getting bullied

- Mike has insomnia and PTSD from his parents death and having to work on the farm

- Richie has ADHD, bipolar disorder and addiction to smoking just from genetics and how his parents treat him

- Stan has chronic OCD and anxiety from his father being a perfectionist

- Eddie has chronic Mysophobia , anxiety and is the worst hypochondriac she’s ever seen

- She has problems with all of them being closed off for some reason

- Bill doesn’t like talking because when he tries to talk about loosing his brother his stutter gets worse, then he gets frustrated and gets overwhelmed

- Beverly just can’t bring herself to talk about it, talking about her dad sets off her PTSD and she gets super defensive about her smoking

- Ben is actually quite intimidated by Jackie, he knows deep down that she wants to help but can’t help but feel like he’s just putting his problems on someone else’s shoulders

- Mike is the easiest one to open up, he needs to know that someone is there and supporting him but at the same time he can’t talk about his parents without tearing up

- Richie talks about everything that isn’t his problems and wastes their hour pretty much every time, although some days he comes in and pours his little heart out

- Stan has told himself if he lets people know about his problems and says them out loud then it’ll make it all worse

- Eddies the only one who’ll willingly talk about what’s happening although he’s insecure about telling her incase she thinks he’s stupid

- so basically, she has a hard time with all of them but she still wants to help them all so bad

- So she proposes to her team leader that she should have an extra session with them once a week where they’re all together

- once she gets the all clear, she tells them about it

- They all agree sounded slightly worried and unwilling, other than Richie who was having a fantastic day and is ready to meet his new fucking friends

- the first session was…interesting to say the least

- Jackie set the chairs in a circle

- the first to arrive was Stan, he always needed to be early no matter what incase he missed something and took the seat next to Jackie

- Eddie was the second to arrive, he took the seat on the other side of her

- As a therapist, this warmed her heart as she knew they did that to feel safer

- She introduced them and got them talking about why bedrooms should be kept tidy, needless to say they become friends right away

- Bill was the third to arrive, he had gotten the wrong room at first and was kinda upset

- he walked in whispering the paragraph that helped his stutter, looking down

- He didn’t look up until he was sitting down at the furthest seat from Jackie in the circle

- She started to introduce them but he honestly wasn’t listening, he was too busy staring at the cute boy with curly hair in front of him

- Stan catches him staring but that doesn’t stop him, he just watches as Stan’s cheeks redden

- next to arrive is Ben and Mike, they weren’t really friends yet but they helped each other find the room

- And finally, Bev and Richie walked in taking as if they had been friends for years (slightly late)

- apparently Richie’s lighter had given up on him so Bev offered hers up, they became friends pretty quickly

- Ben is awestruck by Bev

- They both sat in the remaining two seats left

- As soon as Richie sat down he noticed the small boy next to Jackie and ended up doing the exact thing Bill did with Stan

- Jackie goes around the circle, asking everyone to introduce themselves and their problem and also say how they’re feeling today

- When it comes to Richie, he’s still looking at Eddie

- ‘I’m Richie, I have ADHD and I’m so fucking gay right now’

- Everyone (including Jackie) laughs, they like Richie already

- The session went okay, nothing too interesting happened and they just talked about stuff

- Jackie definitely noticed how they became more open as the hour passed by

- Although Richie spends most the time flirting with Eddie

- Stan leaves last, Bill waits for him by the front door and Stan swears he didn’t tear up a little

- Bill does this and walks Stan home after every session, after the sixth time they start holding hands

- Eddie eventually grows super fond of Richie so one day when said boy walks in and doesn’t talk or even really look up the whole hour, Eddie is pretty worried

- after the session, Jackie asks to talk to Richie privately and Eddie waits by the front of the building even though it’s raining

- Richie comes out after ten minutes, sniffling with red tearful eyes

- ‘Oh hey, Eddie spaghetti….isn’t your mom worried you’re not home yet?’

- 'I’m more concerned about you than my mom right now’

- Richie offers to walk Eddie home, giving Eddie his black denim jacket littered with patches somewhere along the way

- Richie also uses this time to explain his ADHD and bipolar disorder to Eddie

- 'Is there any chance I could get my jacket back? I’ll probably stay out for a bit’

- 'Sure…why are you staying out if it’s raining?’

- 'Just, parents and stuff yanno’

- with that, Eddie demands Richie stay over until his mum comes back or the rain stops

- Ben starts writing little notes and poems which he puts on Bev’s seat before every session and are signed anonymously

- Bev thinks it’s Bill at first but she sees Stan and Bill holding hands on the way home so she crosses him off the list

- one day, whilst she’s out smoking to get away from her dad she bumps into Richie

- she decides he’s a good smoking buddy and they become close, sneaking out pretty much every night to smoke together

- Richie saw Ben putting a note on Bev’s seat one day and honestly he just can’t keep it to himself

- 'Why don’t you ask Ben if he’s your secret admirer?’

- 'I might just do that’

- She leaves a note on his seat one day, with her number and the words 'my heart burns there too’

- To say Jackie is pleased with them and her decision to make their group is an understatement

You know what to do (add more) - xo

seven signs

Summary: Bucky feels like he’s falling in love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none - pure fluff!

Word Count: 2.1k [yikes, sorry]

A/N: Here’s my submission for the ever lovely Gen’s @bucky-plums-barnes 8k celebration - congrats again, sweetheart! My prompt was: “You know I only have eyes for you.” - hope you all enjoy :) || masterlist


Originally posted by minmiin1d


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Six Years and Seven Days

This is pretending that Bellamy could hear Clarke talking all those years, she just can’t hear him responding, and that the ship at the end is them coming back to Earth. 

So…pain. 


Day Three

“Bellamy…are you up there? Are you alive? Is anyone alive?”

Static.

“I only woke up yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I barely made it into the bunker in time, but I made it. And the computer says it’s been three days since the radiation hit, and I was so hungry I thought I might die. Please tell me you didn’t die.”

Silence.

“Bellamy, my mom was right. In a way. My face is disgusting, covered in boils. You’d be laughing at me…probably. Because she was right but so were you. I’m not dead Bellamy. I hope you aren’t either.”

His fingers slammed on the respond button, pushing it down to the point of it feeling like it would crack from the pressure.

“I’m not dead, Clarke. I’m not dead.”

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Sweet Tooth- A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: Another two posts in one night! This is a little tribute to the fact that I already have reached over 100 followers on here, which is baffling?? Thank you all so much for supporting me so much in the very short time I have been on here. I’m so very glad that I have done this and I hope to be getting to some requests that I have received recently, as well! I digress. I hope you enjoy this Remus smut in celebration. This is my very first attempt at writing anything of the sort so sorry if it is no good! Enjoy~

Warning: SMUT 

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

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“The Basics”

The basic structure of the sortinghatchats system is that you aren’t just sorted into one House, but into two tiers of Houses: Primary and Secondary. Your Primary House defines WHY you do things. Your Secondary defines HOW. To build this system, we’ve drawn on the Sorting Hat’s songs, general HP canon, extracanonical data (ex. interviews with JKR)… and then extrapolated.

People are complex– for joy or for utility, due to social pressure or careless recreation, people often use the reasoning or methods of Houses that aren’t their Primary or Secondary. We call this “modelling” or “performing” a house and we will explain it in greater detail later. These additional layers help us capture some complexities in characters that we couldn’t get using Primary and Secondary alone. People can vary hugely in how they embody their Houses; in this system, Aang, the heroic pacifist protagonist from Avatar the Last Airbender, shares most of his Houses with HP’s Lord Voldemort.

The way you decide which Houses are yours is not necessarily by looking at what you do, but at what would make you proudest and most content if you were strong enough to do it. Your sorting is what you want to be and what you believe you should do, whether or not you actually live up to it. That’s how people like Peter Pettigrew can end up in Gryffindor.

PRIMARIES

Your Primary is your why. It’s your motivations, your values, and the way you frame the world around you. It’s how and what you prioritize, and what you weigh most heavily when making your decisions. People often also assume that others share those priorities. A common response to our system is “but you must oversort into Gryffindor/Slytherin/Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff–everyone has that type of morality, deep down!”

Gryffindor Primaries trust their moral intuitions and have a need and a drive to live by them. They feel what’s right in their gut, and that matters and guides them. If they don’t listen to and act on that, it feels immoral.

We call Gryffindor morality “felt” but that doesn’t mean they’re all impetuous, emotional hellions. Gryffindors can still be intelligent, deliberate creatures who weigh their decisions and moralities carefully. Reasoning, intellectualizing and debate can be support for a Gryffindor’s felt morality– but those things can never make a fully satisfying morality in themselves. Some things are just wrong, no matter what pretty words you use to explain them.

Ravenclaw Primaries have a constructed system that they test their decisions against before they feel comfortable calling something right. This system might be constructed by them, or it might have been taught to them as children, or it might have been discovered by them some point later in life. But it gives them a way to frame the world and a confidence in their ability to interact with it morally.

Ravenclaws do not lack an intuitive sense of morality or gut feeling about things, but they distrust those instincts and have a need to ignore or to dig down deep and dissect those internal moral impulses. Living within their built moral system is as important to a Ravenclaw as to a Gryffindor; it’s the source of the morality that differs between them–what they trust.

Hufflepuff Primaries value people–all people. They value community, they bond to groups (rather than solely individuals), and they make their decisions off of who is in the most need and who is the most vulnerable and who they can help. They value fairness because every person is a person and feel best when they give everyone that fair chance. Even directly wronged, a Hufflepuff will often give someone a second (or fifth) chance.

This doesn’t mean all Hufflepuffs are inherently tolerant human beings, any more than all Gryffindors are inherently good, moral creatures. Hufflepuffs tend to believe that all people deserve some type of kindness, decency, or consideration from them–but they can define “person” however they want, excluding individuals or even whole groups.

Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to.

Slytherin’s reputation for ambition comes from the visibility of this promotion of the self and their important people– ambition is something you can find in all four Houses; Slytherin’s is just the one that looks most obviously selfish.

Because their morality system of “me and mine first” is fairly narrow in scope, Slytherins often construct a secondary morality system to deal with situations that are not addressed by their loyalty system.

SECONDARIES

Your Secondary is your how. It’s how you approach the world as a person interacting with it, and how you make your way. It’s how you problem-solve. It’s not necessarily what you’re best at, or even what’s the most useful to you, but about what skills and methods you value as being intrinsic to you. Do you improvise, do you plan? Do you work on something a little bit every day? Do you charge into the fray and tell people exactly what’s on your mind? What do you do? How would you describe the way you meet the world?

Note: the term “Secondary” is not meant to imply that how you do things is any less important than why (the Primary House). It’s simply the way our terminology fell out and we’re too lazy to change it. The importance of motivations v. methods is a personal sliding scale– it’s perfectly valid for a person to identify with their Secondary House over their Primary. (When drawing from canonical sources, we assumed each character likely was in a House that matched to either their Primary or their Secondary. For instance, Harry is in Gryffindor for his heroic Gryffindor Primary, but Ginny Weasley is there for her brash and bold Gryffindor Secondary.)

Gryffindor Secondaries charge. They meet the world head-on and challenge it to do its worst. Gryffindor Secondaries are honest, brash, and bold in pursuit of things they care about. Known for their bravery, it is almost a moral matter to stay true to themselves in any situation that they’re in.

Ravenclaw Secondaries plan. They collect information, they strategize. They have tools. They run hypotheticals and try to plan ahead for things that might come up. They build things (of varying degrees of practicality and actual usefulness) that they can use later– whether that’s an emergency supply pack, a vast knowledge of Renaissance artistic techniques and supplies, or a series of lists and contingency plans. They feel less at home in improvisation and more comfortable planning ahead and taking the time to be prepared.

Hufflepuff Secondaries toil. Their strength comes from their consistency and the integrity of their method. They’re our hard workers. They build habits and systems for themselves and accomplish things by keeping at them. They have a steadiness that can make them the lynchpin (though not usually the leader) of a community. While stereotyped as liking people and being kind (and this version is perhaps a common reality), a Hufflepuff secondary can also easily be a caustic, introverted misanthrope who runs on hard work alone.

Slytherin Secondaries improvise. They are the most adaptive secondary, finding their strength in responding quickly to whatever a situation throws at them. They improvise differently than the Gryffindor Secondary, far more likely to try coming at situations from different angles than to try strong-arming them. They might describe themselves as having different “faces” for different people and different situations, dropping them and being just themselves only when they’re relaxing or feel safe.

But the Journey Continues…

These four basic Primary and Secondary houses are summarized starting places that we use as a basis for further discussion. What are some ways this gets complicated?

Keep reading

How Do I Write: “Realistic College AUs”

Too many-a-time have we admins read College AUs with high hopes and have been let down by the strange and inaccurate existence of lockers, eight classes per day schedules, and other such items that just make us cringe. It’s not anyone’s fault; the movie industry ruined the college scene for many of us. SO, we’re here to set some stuff straight so that you can sit down and write a “Realistic and Accurate College AU™!”

Disclaimer: This is explicitly for the American College Experience - if you’re international and in college, please feel free to add your own bullet points!

Classes

The majority of colleges run on an A/B schedule, where you’ll have certain classes on Monday/Wednesday/Friday, then your other classes on Tuesday/Thursday. Very rarely will somebody ever have a class on the weekend. For example, on Monday/Wednesday/Friday you might have three classes, then on Tuesday/Thursday you might only have two. (Note: Sometimes students try to put all their classes on one day and it’s a living hell. Would not advise. [a.k.a. Admin M is a dumbass.])

Each class is about two hours long if it meets twice a week or one hour long if it meets three times a week (unless it’s an 8-week class during the summer or winter, then it might be a little less than 3 hours). A full semester class normally runs for 16 weeks and usually counts for 3 or 4 credits (classes with labs might be more, PE or exercise type classes count for less). If a student has a job, it’s advised that they do not take more than 14 hours (or about 4 classes [a.k.a. Admin M is still a dumbass with a job and 7 classes]); for students without a job, the typical limit for classes is 16 hours a semester.

IN ADDITION, the classes themselves almost never occur just after one another and usually have a time gap of at least 15 minutes in between each - there may even be a five hour gap!

Really Cool Classes

One major thing that fanfiction gets wrong is college Freshman and Sophomores getting to take amazing classes. Unfortunately, for the first two years of school, you’re usually stuck taking General Education Requirement classes. Sometimes you get cool classes like Civil War History (History class credit) or Physical Anthropology (Cultural credit), but for the most part it’s classes like English Composition, Government, Foreign Language, and Sciences.

Even still, there are cool classes that you can get to count for your GE classes. Introduction to Psychology is always an adventure, along with Physical Geology (fun with rocks), Native Plants (fun with herbs), and Art History (fun with paintings). There’s also the Physical Education class credit that needs to be fulfilled, so there’s Jiu Jitsu, rock climbing, yoga, and swimming classes that apply for that.

Into your Junior and Senior year, you’ll begin to take classes that are more relevant to your major. If you’re a part of the school’s Honor’s program, then you might get classes like “Science Fiction Literature” or “Gender Studies in 18th Century Europe”.

Teachers

No teacher is going to make you write a college essay about why religion is dead (@“God’s Not Dead” film), but they can be bizarre. Teachers will tell you about their mental illness(es), how their kids are doing, and past students. The best storytellers are Psychology professors, Biology professors (especially the ex-ER workers), and Anthropology professors (so many stories about doing drugs in foreign countries). 

Your professors aren’t there to kill you!…but some are. There’s a chance that you’ll come across a teacher who just always seems like they’re having a bad day, but many have chosen to work at a university because they legitimately love to teach. Don’t make every single one of your characters’ professors like the Economics Teacher in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off!

Foreign Language Classes

Why does this get a separate section? Because foreign language classes are OTP first interaction gold. The main languages are Spanish, French, and German; however, colleges also offer languages like Japanese, American Sign Language, Russian, Urdu, Korean, Mandarin Chinese, and even Hebrew. It depends on where you live, but it’s not uncommon for students to practice their foreign language by going out and having a “No-English Date” (meaning that no English is spoken at all), or just talking sh*t about people in public.

Lockers

There aren’t lockers. Don’t think there are lockers. Who started the rumor that there are lockers. You have a backpack, your dorm room, and your pockets. There are no lockers. Also, for the record, lockers would be incredibly inconvenient since all your classes will most likely be in different buildings. No lockers. Cut that out.

Cars and Transportation

If you’re living on campus as a freshman or sophomore, you won’t be able to have a car!!! This is a common misconception, but many (if not all) colleges won’t let you park your car on property until you’re an upperclassman. It also costs money to keep your car on campus, which is why many students have bikes and skateboards to get around campus.

Many colleges have a bus system that goes around campus, around downtown, and even to larger bus stations where students can get a bus to take them close to their family’s homes. Sometimes if a college is large enough (and they value public transportation), there will be a train that stops near the school.

Dorms

Ah yes, good old Dormitories…and when I say “old,” I mean that literally.

Depending on the college you’re writing about, there is a possibility that the dorms are the worst thing you have ever tried to sleep in - they can be too hot, too cold, smell weird, have cracked ceilings, and just have to the general feeling of being OLD. However, depending on how your college is set up (dormitory-wise), you could be on a co-ed floor (two girls per room, two guys per room, two girls per room, etc.), a same-sex floor (all girls / all boys), in a suite (up to 6 people), etc. Honestly, there’s an amazing number of options, but keep in mind that people normally don’t get higher end rooms until their junior or senior year, so don’t place your characters in an apartment on campus in their freshman year!

The dorms themselves can be a bit crazy at times, but they’re honestly pretty calm during the weekdays. Come Friday afternoon, though….everyone is off the walls. The weekend has officially come, and that makes everything ten times better. There’s gonna be yelling, scheming, unicycling down the halls, and other things happening right outside your door. If you think you’re going to get a nap at any time after 1:00 p.m….then you thought WRONG. 

In addition, if you have any food at all, then expect that to be gone very quickly if people come in and out of your room often. Just. Totally gone.

PARTY!!!! (but not really, and here’s why…)

Not everyone goes to a party every night, but those who don’t party don’t just study. Did you study all the time when you weren’t working in high school? Nah, didn’t think so. It’s the same thing at college

For example: there may be a Miyazaki Movie Night Marathon happening in the triple down the hall, a Super Smash Bros. Brawl Tournament in the lounge, an excursion to the gym for a group workout session (which honestly just melts into a trip to get smoothies and sit on a patch of grass), a swing dance social event at the local church, a dorm competition to create the most festive themed door, and there’s never a lack of Student Life events giving our free stuff (mostly free food and shirts, but occasionally candy and gift cards) trying to encourage students to be social.

There’s also the shenanigans where somebody accidentally kicks a hole in the vending machine because it gave them a Diet Coke when they wanted Snapple, going out to the closest 24-hour Walmart at midnight, and the attempted group all-nighters that result in everybody nodding off simultaneously. 

TL;DR…

College is a great time and one of the best settings to practice your OTP’s interactions when you’re first getting to know them as characters, but you need to understand the setting you’re placing them in before you get started. So, do your research, understand college as a whole, and have fun but don’t get too caught up in the technicalities of University™. This is all about your characters; focus on them, let them lead the story, and your piece will be a complete and total success.

Good luck!

how to tackle dreadful classes

yes im back at it again with the horrible intros masterposts!! (honestly im not even gonna try bc the title is self explanatory and im just gonna ruin this post if i go any further oh no i already did it rip)

((WARNING: THIS IS RLY LONG)

1. figure out why you hate this class. is it because you find it boring? you’re not doing so well/you don’t like the challenge? do you dislike the teacher? do you dislike your seat/the classroom/setting? whatever it is, figure it out and then work to eliminate it.

1.a. you find the class boring. this is inevitable because there’s always that one class ;; BUT! you can beat this! throw yourself into the class. find something about the class that you actually like and focus on that for the whole period. examples of this are: your seating (do u sit next to someone cool/nice? maybe a cute person that u rly wanna talk to? [uh don’t let this distract u tho!!]), the benefits of the class (if it’s an ap class, youre earning college credits!! might even help with your major; if its a language class, learning a language is SO important), the setting (is the room aesthetically pleasing? do you get to look out of the window at the blue sky when you’re done with your work?) or even the teacher (lmao i have more teacher friends than student friends). maybe it’s even the fact that it’s’ the first class in the morning, so if you do well in it, it’ll set the tone of your day? idk, just find something that’s not boring and focus on that all period. !!

1.b. you’re not doing well/it’s too hard for you. honey, this isn’t an excuse. even if you suck at a class, YOUR EDUCATION IS HELLA IMPORTANT. once again, throw yourself into the class! find people who are good at the subject and form study groups with them (or just ask ur own friends if ur too scared to talk to new people). TALK TO YOUR TEACHER. dont just sit there crying because you dont know how to solve that equation! ask for help! go on youtube, go on khanacademy, go on kuta, DO SOMETHING. even if you still continue to struggle, your teacher will appreciate the effort! 

1.c. you dislike the teacher. this is probably one of the worst ones lol. why do you not like the teacher? is it because they never call on you? is it because you think they’re too hard on you/they grade things viciously/too much homework and tests? do they always seem to be after you? well, some of these might actually be your fault. many students think that the workload is more than it actually is, simply because they don’t plan and aren’t prepared. or, some teachers target students for being bullies or for talking in class. these are things you can change. however, if it’s something like your teacher never calling on you or coming at you for no reason, that’s something you and your teacher have to discuss. ask them (POLITELY) “i feel like i am targeted/ignored by you during class and it makes me uncomfortable. is there anything i can do to change this?” chances are, your teacher will like that you’ve taken initiative to not only fix your relationship, but ultimately do better in their class. BAM.

1.d. you dislike the setting/your seat. quick fix: if you don’t like where you sit, ask your teacher to move you (dont forget to give a valid reason!! this does not mean lie. i see u) however, if you dont like the actual room…there’s nothing u can do about this; sorry bub! MAYBE if you and your teacher get close, you can help them redecorate one day? this is unlikely but worth a shot.

1.e. if it’s really THAT bad, switch classes, my dude. i know lots of schools have the option to switch classes at a certain time.

2. work to solve whatever the reason is that you hate this class. (mentioned next to each cause above ^)

(i just realized that i didn’t need to number this because there were only two main bullet points)

ok this is literally the worst masterpost ever but !!!!

also: what do do about classes you hate by @tbhstudying!!

[[i really hoped this helped + sorry for the crappy masterpost (’: ]]

-jul

The Problem [m]

Genre : smut
summary : Listen, you really hadn’t meant to think of your friend whilst you got off, but it happened.

“Just tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone else - it’s not me is it?”

“No!”

You said it far too quick. Damn.

 You could feel him moving closer. “Oh … that’s a twist.”

Keep reading

A small collection of high school aus! There’s so many wonderful ones out there that has yet to be read!

And Then There Is No Mystery Left (Baby, I’m Sweet On You) -  Swing Set in December - 1k - Teen

Stiles has no idea why Derek is sitting at his lunch table.

As Good As The Real Thing - literaryoblivion - 5k - Mature

He’s maybe had a crush on Stiles for going on two years now, but there’s no way he’s ever going to act on it or say anything. But, he’s memorized all of Stiles’s quirks and habits because he and Stiles have been in the same history class for two years now, and he always ends up sitting by him. However, he and Stiles have had limited interaction with one another, which is fine. Derek can subside on his daydreams of Stiles. He can live the rest of his high school career on his fantasies alone.

That is until their teacher assigns them to be partners for a project.

Awful, Wonderful You -  stilinskisparkles - 16k - Mature

Truth be told, Derek was suffering from the mild delusion he lived in all summer wherein he actually thought this year might be different, and he might, perhaps, be able to bury the hatchet with Stiles and start over.

The superglue that’s destroyed a ninety dollar pair of pants, however, says otherwise. Derek knows how this play goes down; eventually, he’s going to have to climb out of the pants and trudge back to his dorm half naked. Stiles will gloat for a damn week; Derek will have to put up with constant remarks about Stiles getting him out of his pants… Dammit, he’s actually going to get Derek out of his pants, and it’s not even close to the way he pictured it happening.

Betting On Forever -  mrstotten, veritas_st - 17k - Mature

It’s not like Stiles spends a huge amount of time thinking about it. But when he does it seems strange, good strange, but strange nevertheless, he cant really put a finger on when they decided to become civil to each other let alone friends, best friends even.

Him…and Derek Hale. Can you imagine it?

Binomial Coefficients - DevilDoll - 20k - Teen

In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.

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Unlike the others

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: University AU babes. Tom is the most well-known fuckboy within the freshers (or freshman if you’re American) of your University. He is used to getting his own way with every girl but then he meets you. Whilst you hang out with the popular girls, you are unlike the others and Tom learns that he can’t always get his own way. 

Part one- Part two- Part three-  Part four

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex 

A/N: I hope you enjoy the first part of this University Series! I’m so excited to write it for you guys :) 


Thomas Stanley Holland was the epitome of a fuckboy. He was rich, he was a player and he never treated a girl properly. Tom walked around the University campus with his posse of fellow fuckboys, who were also rich assholes. They had chosen Tom as their ‘leader’ since he was the most confident, most attractive and richest out of them all. Together these boys practically ran the school. 

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@squorkal I did my best with the boys in your style. I think I made some slight differences to Louie and Huey’s hair. 

I just couldn’t resist giving my son bangs. 

And Louie, I feel, would need to be bribed in order to cut his hair because otherwise he just wouldn’t bother.

Teen Ducks is such a fun idea to work with. And if it’s alright with everyone present I’d like to impart some head canons of mine in regards to the Duck teen years.

Duck anatomy is weird and wonderful. I wanted, here, to put some of the effects of duck puberty on display.

ie: sort of mish-mash the canon “kid” model with the canon adult.

  • So their feet and hands are bigger. This is normal for human teens, and honestly I think it’s flipping adorable.
  • Their necks are longer, like an older ducks, but not quite there yet. Similarly, their tail feathers are starting to sprout properly and their bills are beginning to grow.
  • Their legs and arms are long and gangling. 


Huey:

@robinine-blog​ I don’t know if you recall, but I mentioned a while back that I headcanoned that Huey would actually grow up with a strong body type/build.  

This is because his character is a perfectionist. In his teen years, Huey works hard to eat healthy and stay fit, as a proper scout would.  

And after all, how is one supposed to adventure and solve mysteries to the best of their ability if they aren’t in peak physical condition?

So Huey begins to strive toward that ideal. He packs his own, his brothers and even Webby’s lunches everyday, and gets mad when they don’t eat their lovingly prepared meals in favor of school cafeteria junk. 

He’s one of those early morning joggers. And one day he asks Mrs Beakley politely if he may be permitted to train under her alongside Webby. It’s one of the worst decisions of his life, but he powers through and it starts getting easier.

He’s also something of a semi-model student. I say “semi” because he still gets into a fair bit of trouble, as to be expected from a member of the Duck/McDuck family.

He runs for class president every year but never wins. It’s usually because his brothers and Webby are insistent on helping his campaign.

His best subjects are History, Home Economics and Woodshop.

Don’t talk to him about his “worst” subjects. If he gets a grade below an A he dubs it sub-par. If he gets a grade below B you might think someone had died.

Teachers know not to refuse him a chance at extra credit. ^

Most kids give him a wide berth ever since one substitute did not take into account the aforementioned. ^ 

But some bullies still bother him. His response is typically the cold shoulder, if they’re just trying to annoy him.

Often has to bail Dewey and Louie out of fights.

Once a teacher called Dewey a “hopeless case” right to his face and needed to be taken to the ER with a staple embedded in their nose. Donald bought him a new model airplane when Huey came home on suspension and told him what happened.

Dewey:

Someone get this kid a sandwich.

^ I say because Dewey has all the energy, none of the appetite and all of the metabolic rate. For being sporty, boundless and always ready to start trouble Dewey is actually pretty scrawny in his teen years. Eventually he’ll grow into a similar body type to Scrooge and Donald. 

Underdog Jock. Whether its a football match, dodgeball or even wrestling Dewey is this. Nobody roots for him, but everyone secretly knows he’ll end up winning anyway. Is it pure determination or hidden skill? Probably the former. But whatever drove this kid when he was ten drives him into highschool and beyond. Dewey comes out on top.

He calls himself a serial romantic. He tries.

He’s not in any clubs. He spends his time during recess out on the field, usually playing soccer or challenging people to races. Spends a lot of time with Webby, who accepts every challenge he throws at her.

King of cross country. This kid can run.

His best subjects are PhysEd, Electronics and, surprisingly to most, Home Economics alongside Huey. They make a pretty good team in the kitchen, combining Dewey’s creativity with Huey’s caution with the stove. Dewey has a good nose for spices.

His worst subjects are Languages, English and History. He has no problems with this.

Gets injured often. Very often. He could walk you all the way to the nurses office if you blindfolded him and spun him around on the spot until he fell over from dizziness.

Picks fights with people who give either of his brothers or Webby so much as a stink eye.


Louie:

He’s the guy you go to to get things.

Louie wears his waistcoat instead of his hoodie because the teachers grew suspicious of him hiding things in his sleeves. Occasionally the grouchy PE teacher, who has it out for him, will ask him to turn out his pockets in the hall. Louie turns out his outside pockets.

He has pockets stitched onto the inside of his waistcoat.

He sells the things he hides in his pockets. Candy. Concert Tickets you thought had been sold out. Cheat papers. Information.

Gets everything from threats of a beating to sappy love letters slipped into his locker. He doesn’t pay attention to any of the threatening ones, unless he finds them funny. He usually gives the letters back to his admirers with a lollipop and a soft “no thanks”.

Knows the first names of the lunch ladies and the names of all their pets, children and grandchildren. Gets free food all the time.

Lowkey had a crush on his Spanish teacher.

Spanish is a subject he’s very good at. As well as Language Arts, English and Mathematics.

Has been banned from Home Economics.

Has been banned from all vending machines.

Knows how to get two for the price of one from all vending machines.

He’s getting a little chubby. But running around the world with Scrooge keeps him in shape. PE isn’t his worst subject.

Has a lot of trouble with a lot of kids. People out to get him into trouble. Or out to give him a black eye. Either way, he can handle himself in a brawl if the other guy is the same size or thereabout. But if the guy’s bigger… He’s just lucky the big guys aren’t smart enough to know not to mess with him when his brothers are nearby.

Phew! That was a long one. Sorry, folks. But! That’s all I’ve got so you can be thankful it’s over now.

Sugar, I’m Goin’ Down// Bad Boy Shawn // Chapter One

(*shows up two weeks late with Starbucks* anyways here’s college!badboy!shawn and yes, it’s going to be a fic because I can’t control myself and yes, the title is from the fallout boy song.)


The library is quiet, it’s after 8pm after all and you open up your folder with your notes to get started on an outline for an assignment for your mythology class. You’re about ten minutes in, just getting into the flow of it, really feeling your notes start to come together and you hear him. That loud, open mouthed, head thrown back, laughing jackal of a human being that you shared three classes with. Fucking Shawn.

Lord only know what he’s laughing at but it’s probably something his stupid ass friend Andrew has said or done. You wish he would just shut up because now you can hear him /talking/ and you’re just not in the mood to listen to him. Wasn’t it enough you had to listen to him chit chat with every girl who asked him about his stupid fucking black denim jacket with the stupid logo on the back that nobody cared about? Or maybe the way you had to share a worktable with him on the days showed up late because you were the only one without a table partner. He would always forget a pen, always fuck with the instruments on the table, ask stupid questions, and text while the professor was teaching. He was the absolute worst.

“Ha, yeah, anyways I told her to fuck off if she thought I was gonna-” Shawn stops mid sentence and you dare to look up, shocked by his silence, curious to know what caused it. Unfortunately when you do look up, he’s standing right there at the end of your table that’s tucked into the back corner of the library.

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Silver Lining| Min Yoongi

Life has its hardships especially being fresh out of college luckily you have a gummy smiled friend to help you with your struggles. You managed getting a shabby apartment with a shared bedroom and when worst comes ends up having to share a cold shower as the warm water is shut off. Things arent going so pleasant as the electricity follows off too but the most treacherous of all, you being able to face what your feelings might actually hold. But your just friends right?

Originally posted by bullet-proof-girlscouts

Warning: Smut, cursing, stuff, Best friend Yoongi!, So much friendly bickering like damn just fuck already

Genre: Smut and fluff

Word count: 13.2K Got a little carried away..

A/N: A wild update appears. Okay this damn comeback needs to back the fuck up. Yoongi looks like a meal and bighit is now becoming a jin stan everything it beautiful. School sucks thats the main reason my updates are late as hell. also i found this promt on pintrest but switched some shit. ALSO i am supposed to be doing homework but needed to update please pray for my grades. ALso my teacher was talking about college and im not even a senior so you need to calm the fuck down with that damn word. Okay im done

Oh and you know i had to get a blue hair yoongi on the screen.


Having a longing companion was a necessity to a longing life. Having someone to share the necessitates you were used to sharing alone. The feeling of having another comforting body against your side defeating the odds always seemed appealing. It was often rare for something to come along like so. You would rather find a needle in a hay stack then finding something as extraordinary as other couples demonstrate so. It was never an easy task to accomplish as everyone seeks for so, making your chances limited.

I soon accepted this fate and decided on second best, another companion that seemingly resembled the same. A best friend was well suited for my need, as they held the same traits but still remained rather different. A significant other held the qualities of love and romance as a best friend held the traits of honesty loyalty and bundles of fun. No argumentative sides or going a long period without talking as being away from the seemed like the end of your whole soul. I needed someone to rely on and cherish without that sexual desire yet it seemed almost impossible to find. I was hovering over ever possibility i could get, still lost in the endless hay stack.

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The day they almost lost you - Batfam x Batsis (reader)


This is the PERFECT exemple of a request I received only a few days ago and will write before others I have received months ago purely because it inspires me a lot <3. Sorry if you send a requests like, six months ago and I still haven’t written it…Again, I really work on things that inspires me the most so it totally depends on the day and mood…Like for example right now, I miss my little 3 years old nephew and I could definitely write a story with a toddler in it ! So here we go, hope you guys will like it :  

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

__________________________________________________

-Remember that time you lost me in the biggest mall in Gotham ?

-Oh my God (Y/N), how many times are you gonna remind that to us ?! Besides, you weren’t even two, you don’t actually remember it yourself…

You smile as you look at your older brother, Damian, mumbling something else you didn’t understand but that looked a lot like “and we found you anyway so…”, and shake your head.

You had heard that story a billion times, and you never really got tired of it.

Your brothers were suppose to keep an eye on you while your father was busy, and they had lost you in one of the busiest place in the entire city…Oh yes, how could you be tired of that ?

Whenever your four older brothers would annoy you, or be overprotective (which, not very surprisingly, happened a lot), like right now, as they were bitching about your boyfriend, Conner (Superman’s clone, and also your brother Tim’s best friend…needless to say, when your family heard you were dating him, they were a bit taken aback, arguing he was too old for you but…technically, you were actually a bit older than him, as when he was “born”, you were already four months old, and besides, you did whatever the Hell you wanted anyway), you would re-tell them the story as you heard it so many times (from Alfred mainly), and they’d instantly leave you alone, still feeling guilty about the all ordeal.

Sometimes though, you felt that maybe, it was that episode that made them so damn overprotective of you…Damian was right, you weren’t even two years old when everything happened, and you didn’t remember a thing but, even so, you still knew it was a big deal.

Because that day…Well, that day, you almost died.

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Finding Pennywise Hurt (Imagine)

Request by @taysartcorner: Could you do a headcanon or a fanfiction of Penny’s s/o finding him badly hurt? Like after the scene where he got the metal spike through his face in the movie?

××××

It was a regular day for you, just like any other. You walked home from another long day at work back to your house. But you were lucky enough that your workplace was only a short distance away, so there really was no need to drive and gave you a chance for some fresh air as you took the walk to and from each day. When you were halfway home, you noticed a group of kids heading towards you on bicycles. You counted 7 in total. You couldn’t tell if it was screams of joy or terror as they peddled towards you fast, nearly knocking you down when they finally passed by. They all seemed frantic with fear in that moment, you heard a few of them yelling. But you were only able to make out a few words like “Kill him,” “Georgie,” and “Fear.”

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Prompt List

Random prompts that I gathered from other various lists over the years. Feel free to leave a request!


1. I don’t even know. who I am without you.
2. The way you flirt is just shameful.
3. I’m flirting with you.
4. You don’t need to protect me.
5. You can’t even look at me!
6. Stop looking at me like that!
7. You make a good pillow.
8. Does he know about the baby?
9. I had a nightmare about you and I wanted to make sure you were okay.
10. All I wanted was the truth.
11. Why are you pushing me away?
12. didn’t realize I needed your permission.
13. I can’t believe you talked me into this.
14. Nobody can trust me to do anything important!
15. I fall for the worst ones.
16. You make me feel like I’m not good enough.
17. Come over here and make me.
18. Stop thinking about him/her/them.
19. You’re beautiful/handsome, and I’m not the only one that thinks that.
20. I need your forgiveness.
21. If you don’t rest, you won’t heal.
22. You’re the only one I can trust.
23. Kiss me.
24. I love you.
25. I told you not to fall in love with me.
26. I forgive a lot, but I never forget what’s said and done.
27. Please shut up. I can’t stand how appealing your voice is.
28. Shut up. Just shut up.
29. Again?
30. I’ve been in love with you my entire life.
31. I’m tired of being your secret.
32. You know,it’s okay to cry.
33. I think we should have another.
34. Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?
35. Go on,tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.
36. You can’t leave me in the dark. You have to tell me these things.
37. Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!
38. If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.
39. I just want to be alone right now.
40. Those things you said yesterday did you mean them?
41. You haven’t even touched. you food. 42. What’s going on?
43. If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t lie and say it’s fine.
44. Sometimes, there is nothing better than some good old-fashioned, no string attached fucking.
45. Stay in bed.
46. Stop laughing at me.
47. Just say that it is okay. I just need to hear you say it.
48. I love you and I am terrified.
49. Why does it hurt so much?
50. I can’t promise you that…
51. Promise me you will come back…I need you to promise me.
52. I missed you.
53. Do you trust me?
54. Don’t look at me like that.
55. You’re the most amazing, incredible, beautiful being I’ve ever met.
56. I’ll find her and bring her home, I promise.
57. You embarrassed me this evening.
58. I couldn’t do it…one look in their eyes and I knew I couldn’t kill them. For that I am sorry.
59. Did you enjoy yourself last night?
60. I am not losing you again.
61. Why don’t they just kiss already?
62. You know, it hurt when I realized that you’re not in love with me. But nothing can compare to the pain I felt when I saw you fall in love with her.
63. I am different now.
64. You left without saying goodbye…I hate you for that.
65. I loved you and then you were gone…and I knew I lost you.
66. None of that matters now.
67. Please say something.
68. I shouldn’t have come.
69. It was a mistake coming here.
70. You hate me and I do not know why!!
71. Take your fill.
72. Is that a challenge?
73. What the hell was that?!
74. Mind if I cut in?
75. Did I stutter?
76. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?
77. Why are you covered in mud?
78. I can’t…I can’t lose you.
79. You’ll be the death of me.
80. Come back to bed.
81. You are so tiny compared to me.
82. Can I kiss you?
83. Bring your pretty little butt over here.
84. Why are you dressed like that?
85. You deserve so much better.
86. You have the most amazing eyes.
87. You know, it’s okay to cry.
88. That’s distracting.
89. That isn’t appropriate.
90. Is it possible to love too much?
91. Promise me you’ll look after your father.
92. How long has it been?
93. This relationship used to be all about communication! What ever happened to that?
94. If you walk out that door, you’re no longer one of us. You’ll be one of them and that means I’ll treat you like one of them.
95. I left everything for this, I left it all…for you!
96. Look at me—just breathe, okay?
97. I’m sick of being USELESS!
98. I almost lost you.
99. I wish I could hate you.
100. Tell me a secret.
101. No one needs to know.
102. I don’t want to have a baby!
103. Did you enjoy yourself last night?
104. Are you kidding me? We are not fine!
105. You’ve only heard his side of the story. You never asked for mine.
106. Well, this is where I live.
107. You make me feel like I’m not good enough.
108. For some reason I’m attracted to you.
109. I think I picked up your coffee by mistake.
110. All I wanted was you honesty.
111. Why do you keep pushing me away?
112. I can’t explain it right now, but I need you to trust me.
113. I’ve never felt this way before…and it scares out of me.
114. Don’t fucking touch me!
115. Are you really taking his side against me?
116. Wait a second are you jealous?
117. I wish I could hate you.
118. I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I’m going to marry him/her.
119. This is by far the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of coarse I’m in.
120. You’re the only one I can trust to do this.
121. I thought you were dead.
122. This isn’t about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.
123. I love you, you asshole.
124. You did this for me?
125. You can’t protect me.
126. You know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice.
127. Promise me you’ll look after your mom.
128. I’m so stupid to make mistake of falling in love with my best friend.
129. Stop talking about the past, I could be dead in a matter of hours…make me up a future.
130. The way you flirt is just shameful.
131. I waited and waited, but you never came back.
132. You never told me you had a fucking twin.
133. I want to go back to before…
134. I just wanted and easy day with me girlfriend/boyfriend. What’s so wrong with that?
135. Go then, leave! See if I care!
136. Why are you up so early?
137. Please,take me instead!
138. You braided his hair?
139. She’s been missing since Friday and you’re not worried.
140. Have you lost you damn mind?!
141. Please. don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe here.
142. I’m your daughter.
143. I’m not surprised that you murdered him.
144. Is there a special reason, as to why you’re wearing my shirt?
145. Am I supposed to be scared of you?
146. Don’t use me as an example. I wasn’t a good kid.
147. I can’t say I see how I’m supposed to love you more than I already do.
148. I know you’ve given me a million second chances and I’ll never take you for granted.
149. Everything that doesn’t make sense about me, makes sense when I’m with you.
150. You need to tell me what you need me to be.
151. I always want to come home to you.
152. Even after all this time, I’m still a fool for you.
153. Cause words don’t make what I make with you.
154. I love you…just not in that way.
155. You are my first choice.
156. Will you still love me in the morning?
157. You were the worst thing that happened to me.
158. I finally have the strength to leave, and I am.
159. I just feel like you don’t love me anymore.
160. I can’t go on this way.
161. Who is it? Who are you seeing behind my back?
162. I love you too much to watch you leave me slowly.
163. Don’t you dare die on me.
164. The car crash took your life but the funeral took mine.
165. I miss you and I miss her.
166. Things just aren’t the same.
167. I’m glad I’m leaving.
168. You never saw my bags be packed, but you sure saw them in the living room before I left.
169. I can’t breathe in your arms anymore.
170. Our love isn’t love anymore.
171. It’s hard to resist a bad boy who’s a good man.
172. If you’re looking for the full deal, the till-death deal, then look at me. No one’s ever going to love you, stick by you, understand how you work the way I do.
173. The wounded recognized the wounded.
174. What I wanted. I wanted you to fight for me. I wanted you to say there’s no one else you could ever be with, and that you’d rather be alone than without me.
175. I am not pushing you away I’m holding on for dear life but I need you to need me back.
176. Why won’t you ever just let me all the way in?
177. You’re the moon of my life, that’s all I need to know and if this is a dream I will kill the man that tries to wake me.
178. I don’t want to get over her, I want to be with her.
179. Oh I’m sorry did my back hurt your knife?
180. Sometimes I think that we waste our words and we waste our moments. And we don’t take the time to say the things that are in our hearts when we have the chance.
181. I’m afraid this conversation is going to end in goodbye.
182. Don’t say you love me unless you really mean it, because I might do something crazy like believe it.
183. I love you. I am in love with you. I have tried to kill it to runaway from it but I can’t and I don’t want to anymore.
184. Don’t act like I didn’t fight for you. I did.Hard. And for a long time. So forgive me if now that we’re over I’m exhausted.
185. Maybe I’m just supposed to let you go now, but I can’t. Because I can’t lose everything I have all at once.
186. I waited. I was here. Where were you?
187. I’m not leaving here without you.
188. Pick me. Choose me. Love me.
189. Don’t you give up on me now; we’ve come to far and I love you way too much to lose you now.
190. Someone told me once that to create true art you must be willing to bleed and let others watch.
191. I promised myself that if you came home I wouldn’t be afraid to tell you how I felt. But I’m still afraid. Because I can’t make you love me back.
192. I want your body. I want your mouth. I want your laugh and your funny faces. I want your friendship and your inspirational thoughts. And I want you to come with me when I go.
193. I have waited so long for you to want me. If you don’t hold me tight I won’t believe you mean it, and that’s worse than never being held at all.
194. If you don’t ask, the answer is always no.
195. Please don’t leave me. Everyone always leaves.
196. Here, let me see.
197. Don’t look down.
198. I’m sorry I yelled at you…
199. Will you just hold still?
200. This isn’t just about you…
201. What’s behind your back.
202. When you’re happy, I’m happy.
203. I wish this moment could last forever…
204. There’s a leaf in your hair.
205. I think I twisted my ankle…
206. Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?
207. Look into my eyes what do you see?
208. Of course you’d believe that.
209. Your hands are so much larger than mine.
210. Shh, they’ll hear us.
211. It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches.
212. Remember when you used to care?
213. Why didn’t you text me back?
214. Will you just tell me the truth?
215. You’re too damn cute.
216. Why are you laughing?
217. That stuff can’t be good for you.
218. This will only take a second…
219. Don’t look at me like that!
220. This tastes bitter.
221. Your think you could do better?
222. Isn’t this a gorgeous view?
223. You’ve been so selfish lately!
224. Anything but that!
225. Why did you think that was a good idea?
226. Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.
227. You’re eyes are red…were you crying?
228. We’re running low on time here.
229. You’ve got something on your cheek.
230. If I could just get you to understand…
231. Don’t move,it’ll be okay.
232. Hey, don’t raise your voice at me!
233. Let’s take a deep breath.
234. Come on, it wasn’t that bad.
235. You call that music?
236. Damn auto-correct!
237. You can’t have it both ways.
238. I’ve made a huge mistake.
239. Don’t worry about it, everyone screws up.
240. You can’t do that!
241. If you love it so much, then why don’t you marry it?
242. We go on three…
243. I’m not bothering you am I?
244. I didn’t know you could do that.
245. I forgot you used to like this stuff.
246. It wouldn’t be the first time you broke a promise.
247. You know how I feel about birthdays.
248. You can’t ask me to do that.
249. Oh, you scared me!
250. You’re jealous, aren’t you.
251. You really…that’s not exactly meant to be eaten.
252. This is my favorite song!
253. You’re so drunk.
254. It doesn’t matter, I’m not leaving you.
255. It’s just that…well my favorite character just died,
256. Don’t be stupid.
257. Of coarse I love you.
258. Don’t you ever do that again!
259. Have you ever thought 260. about…like…us?
260. If we die, I’m going to kill you.
261. I can’t believe you’d do something like this!
262. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.
263. You’re my favorite muse.
264. Don’t worry about it, I got it.
265. I promise, it’s just this once.
266. You owe me.
267. What, you’re scared I’ll kick you ass again?
268. Is that my shirt?
269. Wanna go for a drive?
270. You’ve got to be kidding me!
271. Fancy meeting you here.
272. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?
273. Well this is awkward.
274. Give it back!
275. Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?
276. Why are you crying?
277. Just this once, okay?
278. You’re really soft.
279. Is it possible to love too much?
280. I’ll always be there to protect you.
281. The stars look especially lovely tonight.
282. May I have this dance?
283. I can’t stop thinking about you.
284. All I want is you.
285. You look incredible in that.
286. Sometimes I just can’t control myself around you.
287. Do you believe in love at first sight?
288. I think I’m in love.
289. I’d like if you stayed.
290. I have never felt this way about anyone.
291. Can I kiss you?
292. I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy sox.
293. My parents are coming over in ten minutes so please put your clothes on.
294. I’m really drunk, please help me.
295. This is probably a bad time, but marry me?
296. We’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about.
297. I think you might be pregnant.
298. Shh…I’m sleeping.
299. Why wasn’t I invited to your wedding?