well i still have to worry about some paper i need to apply to scholarships


This is a submitted series by a writer who wished to stay anonymous, so I will be transferring their submissions to text posts yay! I just wanted to make it known that this work is not mine, and all credits go to the original author that decided to submit their series to my blog. Enjoy! :))

Pairing: Peter Parker/fem!Reader

Rated: T
Tags/Triggers(?): reader has an anxiety disorder
Summary: When Y/N moves to New York to attend a higher-level science and math school she only goes with the hope of getting a good education. But a certain cute nerdy with a camera makes her hope for a few other things as well.

Currently estimating this to be about twelve/thirteen chapters long and I’m gonna shoot for updates every Wednesday.

Super excited to be submitting this to the truly lovely Krys and I hope you all enjoy!

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Give A Little Love

For Ely– happy birthday darling!  You are such a beautiful beautiful person, and you deserve all the love in the world <3 

(This is basically a love letter to Jonathan Byers and I don’t regret it at all, especially considering the stunt I pulled for Death Day.)
Title comes from the Noah & The Whale song of the same title: “And my love is my whole being, and I’ve shared what I could.  But if you give a little love, you can get a little love of your own.”

“Steve Harrington, if you steal one more of my french fries, I’m going to shoot you.” Nancy glared at Steve over her drink.  Steve chuckled and flopped back onto the grass, chewing happily.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve threatened me with that before?” he responded cheekily, and Nancy threw a fry at him petulantly.  It landed in his hair, and Steve didn’t hesitate before snatching it and popping it into his mouth, looking smug.  Nancy made a noise of disgust before leaning back against Jonathan.

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“Merci beaucoup”

One-shot | Mainly Cosima & Scott & some Delphine & random mentions | Word count: 1944 | Genre: Crack? Fluff? Something?

”Cosima, you’re on fire today, that’s what I’m talking about!” The faint compliment pushed through time and space, from across one side of the tiny coffee shop to the other. The dreadlocked girl shot a smirk at her boss from the brewing machine, biting her tongue to stop herself from delivering a rather sarcastic reply.

Somehow she wasn’t that fond of the douchebag named Greg who apparently happened to be more than willing to offer a promotion in return of some intimate kindness on Cosima’s part. Or at least, that was the conclusion she’d drawn according to their conversation from the night before. If anything, spreading her legs for five more dollars per hour didn’t exactly fit into her category of magnificent opportunities.

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