well it was either that or sort my life out

Telling him You’re pregnant (13rw guys)

a/n: lol so this was requested

How you tell him you’re pregnant: 13RW

Zach: I was so mad.  Zach and I, were just a ‘make me feel better with sex’ relationship.  We were mutually friends, bypasses in the corridor but mainly had nothing to do with each other unless we were in desperate need of pleasure.

But now he had gotten me pregnant, I have a career to peruse, so does he, this was not going to work out, if he hadn’t been a complete doofus and just wrapped up his willy.  No, I was angry, in fact outraged! My feet stormed into the guys’ changing room, seeing a wide range of naked bodies.

“Y/N, you know you can’t be in here,” I heard Tony’s voice echo but my eyes were focus on Dempsey.  He wore loose blue shorts that hung on his waist, his chest bare, and his hair floppy, he was organising his clothes.

“What the fuck, Zach!” I screeched, many guys turning our way.

“Y/n, calm down and leave, whatever it is we need to sort later,” he said calmly, pulling a shirt over his perfectly toned body.

“No, it cannot!” I cried out, my hands tugging at my hair, grunting a bit.  "You got me pregnant and now I have no idea what to do,“ a confused look appeared onto his face as we received a few whistles and 'damns’.

"Stop lying and go away,” he muttered, slamming his locker door. “You’re lying because you want attention.”

I picked the three positive pregnancy tests into his hands and placed a hand on my hip.

“Do I Zach? Do I really need this much attention, because trust me I never asked for it either!”

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” he told me, grabbing my shoulder and steering me out of the changing rooms.  "y/n are you being serious?“ he asked as we reached the empty sports hall.

"Zach, I wouldn’t lie about this,” I began to cry, my hands covering my face, his big arms wrapped around me and pulled me into his chest.

“Ssh, it’s going to be okay, we’ll work things out.”

Clay: Clay and I were in a pretty stable relationship, his parents liked me and my parents liked him, we were like best friends who were intimate and loved each other, which is why he had to be the first to know.  Infect Clay was with me the whole time, we bought the test together and decided to do it at my house, when nobody was at home. I had been such a wreck, afraid of what my parents would think, what Clay would do and how I would react, but we were doing this together.

“I’m the one to blame for this,” Clay murmured as we stood in my bathroom waiting.

“Clay no you’re not, it was a mistake, they happen,” I told him, grabbing his hand. He squeezed it.  "We’ll work this out,“ I whispered.

"We will, even if it means feeding the country, changing our names and never returning, Y/N I would do that for you,” he smiled a little.

“I know you would,” I sighed, looking over to the positive pregnancy test.
“Holy shit,” he groaned.

Alex: Even though Alex and I were in a pretty decent relationship I still refused to tell him when I found out. I told my mother first who stroked my hair as I sobbed, she was so kind to me. Then, there was my father who, the night I told him, lashed out at everyone.  He put me in his car and sped all the way to Alex’s house.
“No dad please,” I cried, trying to pull him back but he knocked, well, rather nearly kicked the door down of the Standall’s house.

“Do you mind,” Alex’s dad appeared a gun in one hand and an expression of anger plastered across his face.  “Mr Y/L/N, Y/N come in,” he said in a shocked tone.

“I’m not here for funny business, it’s your godamn son I’ve come to murder,” my father breathed out, causing me to cry a little more.
“Now what possibly has Alex done, I mean it’s one o’clock in the morning can’t this wait,” the Sheriff gave out a low chuckle.

“Got my daughter pregnant, that’s what,” my dad snapped, causing the other man’s lips to form an ‘o’ shape.  He went upstairs and a few moments later Mrs Standall and Alex appeared.  
“I’m sure you have a good reason to be here,” his mother sighed, taking a seat on the sofa and Alex sat next to me.  
“Oh, yes I do, your son has knocked up my daughter and now she’s pregnant,” Alex took his head into his hands, groaning continuously, while his mother, shut her eyes.
“Alex we’ve told you about safety,” his mother snapped, but Alex didn’t respond.  “Either way you’ve ruined this poor girl’s life, no matter how she solves this situation she’s going to regret something.”
“Well don’t worry we’re sorting this now,” his father said.

Justin: I waited to make my own decision of my own before telling Justin anything. I thought keeping this baby was the best choice, with or without Justin’s help. So, on Friday night, just before he was going out with Bryce I knocked on the front door of his apartment, revealing his drunk mother.
“What do you want,” she spat, I bit down on my lip.
“Is Justin here?” I asked and she pointed in the direction of his room, I wasted no time before letting myself in.
“Y/n,” he smiled patting the side of his bed where he was putting on his shoes.
“Justin, there’s something I’ve not been telling you,” I took a seat.  “I’m pregnant,” I sighed.
“Haha real funny Y/n, you best tell my mother she’ll be ecstatic,” he joked, not even raising his head.
“Justin,” I said in a low, warning voice. “I’m not kidding, I’ve had the scan.”
“Well then it’s pointless fucking telling me because I’m not interested, get an abortion I’m sure you can find that money,” he stood up, heading towards the door. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean that, please don’t cry.” He could see the tears cascading down my face, he squatted down in front of me, chin leaning on my knee.
“Well, Justin I’ve decided I’m keeping this baby, it’ll be good for me, give me some responsibilities, stop myself from drinking every weekend,” I wiped the tears from my face.
“Me too, I need to pull myself together now, I know that I can probably get a job and find us a stable home, Y/N I will do that for you,” he whispered as I cupped his cheek.
“I know you will.”  

Jeff: I didn’t even tell Jeff I was pregnant, one day he was looking through my bag at school and saw the test.  I hid in the toilets all day, because 1: the rumour would be halfway around school already and 2: I couldn’t face Jeff, not knowing that we were young and he had such big aspirations for college and scholarships.
“Y/N,” I heard his delicate voice call, “I know you’re in here, you need to come out.” I simply cried more. I saw his feet appear from the bottom of the cubicle. “Look, I’m not going until I see you and we’ve spoke about it. You can’t just ignore this, Y/N you’re pregnant, carrying my baby. Babe, we need to discuss this, I know we didn’t plan it or anything but please, I need you.” I couldn’t see Jeff, but that didn’t mean I knew he was crying a little. I clambered off the toilet and unlocked the door to see Jeff in his P.E kit, his hair messy, cheeks dampened and red, eyes swollen. He opened his arms wide and I stood into them, feeling at home.  He was warm and I felt his hands caress my back, soothing me.  “Baby,” he whispered and I looked up at him.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimpered, my hands resting on his chest as I dropped my head in shame.
“Don’t be, Y/N you may not think this now but when we have- if I mean, if you want it, we can be a happy family. Only if you want, maybe our timing isn’t precise but I know my parents would support us and I would do anything for you, anything,” he told me. “Just think about this,” he smiled kissing the top of my forehead.

The Night Ahead (Part 3)

summary: bucky came out of cryostasis after just a few months. with the help of steve, he’s trying to piece the fractions of his mind back together. while flipping through old HYDRA files, he remembers something from his days as the winter soldier: you.

pairing: bucky x reader (sort of?? it’s complicated)

series contains: angsty angst, sadness, bucky reliving memories as the Winter Soldier, violence, people die a lot, bucky trying to cope, really awful translations of German, Russian, and Romanian (thanks to google translate i apologize in advance)

a/n: as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs. any kind of feedback is loved and appreciated. MASTER LIST | PART TWO

Originally posted by sxy-seabass

“What kind of contract were you on?” he asked me.

Bucky had knocked on my door early the next morning. I was already awake, but I had pretended to be annoyed when I opened the door and allowed him to come inside. He sat down in one of the recliners in the corner of the bedroom, while I sat at the foot of my bed.

“It was really more like a lease agreement,” I said. “HYDRA paid the organization I belonged to for my services, and I was at their disposal until that lease was up.”

“What organization?” he wanted to know.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Is the only way to succeed with adhd is if u have a high IQ. Im not very smart and my adhd makes that worse so i always feel like i dont really have chance of getting far in life.

I don’t think so, at all. I think that the way to succeed with ADHD is to figure out what you’re good at, what your interests are, and what sorts of things you struggle with. Then find ways to either side-step your struggles or use them to help you do well at the things you’re interested in. That has nothing to do with IQ.


Klaine one-shot - “Winner Takes All” (Rated PG13)

Following the sex-a-thon that ensues after Will and Emma’s disastrous wedding, Blaine takes Kurt out for a much needed break.

Kurt is less than thrilled with Blaine’s venue of choice. (2437 words)

Notes: This is a re-write.

Read on AO3.

“Okay, I know I said that you got to pick where we went on our “date” (Kurt includes air quotes to indicate that this isn’t actually a date, a fact that Blaine has been reminded of about three times in the past hour … and which he’s rolled his eyes about with each reiteration), but what about me screams bowler to you?” Kurt asks as he peruses the various multicolored bowling balls, cringing visibly at the idea of sticking his fingers into any of them.

“It’ll be fun! I promise.” Blaine chuckles as his disgusted ex walks along beside him, searching for a ball to use. “Take a walk on the wild side.”

“Ugh! Don’t say walk. It’s bad enough that I’m wearing a pair of shoes used by at least several hundred other people.” Kurt turns a ball around on the rack to check the weight. “As it is, I’m going to have to throw the socks I’m wearing in the trash after tonight.”

“Which pair? You’ve got three on!”

Keep reading

On Ghost Speak

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Ghost Speak headcanon, which is one I quite enjoy and find it interesting to contemplate despite not headcanoning it myself

But more to the point

Something I see a lot when people talk about ghost speak is, “what if danny got stuck in ghost speak,” or, “what if he just slides into ghost speak without noticing.” And while these are totally valid and happen to some real life people as well, it still bugs me a bit, because that’s generally not how speaking multiple languages work.

From my own experience, when you start becoming fluid in a second language, words sort of fuse together and become meanings and concepts above the individual words themselves. So I’ll often find myself blurting out sentences or sayings that makes no sense in either language because my brain is trying to compromise & make reason of all these sounds. Or, alternatively, trying to translate a saying from one language to another and failing (me to my english-speaking friend: “Nah, I can’t afford that, haven’t got a red shrimp”).

So imagine Danny just going in tangents about something, and using weird words and metaphors that doesn’t really make sense in English, but Sam and Tucker has sort of learnt how to decode what he means and think creatively.

Or Danny forgetting a word in english and like trying to mime it out desperately while repeatedly barking out the word in ghost and trying to make them understand.

Or Danny actually turning in his homework for once – and having done a good job on it, but still getting a subpar grade because it includes a lot of made-up words which are the result of him having badly translated the ghost speak word (ordinaration, life-turning, yessagree, as some quick examples maybe)

idk, this got long. It’s just so fun to think about.

Just The Two

Pairing: Neville X Reader

Prompt: You and Neville have been best friends for as long as you could remember, but he’s been acting distant lately. You’re determined to get to the bottom of this, especially since you’ve been falling for him ever since the year started.

Warnings: None

A/N: Haven’t written anything in a while, sorry! Finals have taken over and destroyed my life. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Originally posted by nellaey

It was hard to think of a time when you and Neville weren’t together. Your grandparents knew each other well, and Neville’s granny made sure that he always found a friend in you. You never minded, not being one to be sociable all the time either. You found great satisfaction in knowing that you would always have one another’s backs. During your very first moments at Hogwarts, you were elated to witness Neville being sorted into the same house as you. When his grandmother found out, she couldn’t believe it either. Timid Neville was a Gryffindor!

Unfortunately, a lot of teasing came with that title. “Don’t listen to them, Neville. I think you’re really brave.” You often had these chats, especially if he was feeling particularly unconfident.

“I messed everything up, again. It was my fault I lost the bloody list of passwords. I let a criminal in!” Neville buried his head in his hands.

You frowned and leaned down closer to him. “You’re brave for facing your fears every day, Neville.”

Over the years, you shared lots of things with Neville. Secrets, fears, hopes, and hugs. It wasn’t until recently that conveying these emotions became troubling. Case in point, the incident last week.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Neville was poking at his food, not looking up to talk to anyone. Not even you.

“Hm?” He finally looked up into your eyes, only to blink twice and put his head back down. “Just tired I suppose.”

“Was it because of class?” You guessed.

“No. I’m fine, Y/N.” He lied. You hid a pained expression but tried to coax the truth out one last time.

“Did..did I do anything?” This certainly caught his attention. He looked up in shock and stumbled over his words.

“Wha- of course you didn’t. I-I didn’t mean to make you think- I just-”

You placed your hand on his shoulder, shutting him up in a snap. You felt him tense up. What happened? He wasn’t ever like this with you before. You hesitantly withdrew your hand, deciding to instead play with your fingers.

“I’m not offended, Neville. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You know you can tell me if anyone else is bothering you, I’m not afraid to hex them again.” You flash a mischievous smile.

All he did was gulp and nod his head. “I guess the homework has been getting to me lately.”

“I can help you if you want-”

“No!” It came out louder than either of you expected. He immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, in shock of his own forwardness. “I-I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m sorry!”

It hurt to see him act so unreachable, but pushing further only seemed to make things worse. “Well…alright then. I won’t ask any more questions. I’m here if you need me.” You turned to continue eating, trying not to show your disappointment inside. Why was he acting this way? Your mind tumbled and shook with theories. Was it someone else? A bully? Snape? You? Just thinking of the last option made the color drain from your face. You dared to sneak a glance at Neville.

He turned away at the last second. Were you hallucinating, or was he just staring at you before? You bit the inside of your cheek and went back to eating. Just thinking about Neville in a romantic way made your face heat up faster than ice in a boiling cup of tea. You’ve noticed him growing more since his last birthday. Not just taller, but better built as well. You gulped and tried to erase any strange thoughts from your head.

Glancing over one more time, your heart sunk at his depressed temperament. “Give him time, and he’ll go to you when he’s ready,” a voice reasoned in your mind. A week. You’ll wait a week and see if he needs any more help then.

As the days crawled by, you were getting uneasier. It was like you shared Neville’s nerves and discomfort like everything else. He started talking to Harry and Ron more than you. “Do you want to meet up after class by the library to study?” You would ask. All you got in response was a shake of the head. “Sorry, I-I think Dean wanted my help with something. Y-y'know. Guy stuff.”

You didn’t, in fact, know about the guy stuff. Since when did Neville ever start doing ‘guy stuff’? You sat in front of the fireplace that evening, just staring at the flickering embers. You had no plans since Neville rain-checked for the third time this week.

“If you’re trying to count how many sparks fly out at a time, don’t bother.” Ginny sat next to you. “Fred and George dared Ron to try one time and his hair almost caught on fire.”

You laughed at the ridiculousness. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t take a gander like that anyway.”

“Well, you seemed really…bored. Isn’t Neville usually with you at this hour?”

“Usually,” you sigh. “He’s been…I don’t know…”

Ginny sat up straighter on the couch. “Did something happen?”

You pondered that question. “Yes? No? I have no clue. I-it feels like he doesn’t even want to be around me anymore. I’m thinking 'is he upset with me?’ 'is he in trouble?’ I don’t even know how to approach him anymore."You didn’t notice the few tears slipping out until Ginny was patting your back and offering you a tissue.

"That is very strange. You guys stick together like Dean and Seamus.” Ginny rubbed her chin and thought hard. “Say, this might sound strange but..”

“What is it?” If it lead to answers, you had to know.

“Does he avoid you in any particular way?” Ginny finished.

You tilted your head in confusion. “What ways are there to ignore a person?”

“Well, is he cold towards you? Or more nervous? Stuttering? Red face? Any of that sound familiar?” Ginny asked. You weren’t sure what game she was playing, but you couldn’t stop. Like a box of Bertie Bott’s, you knew you were going to finish the box whether you ended up with sweet or gross flavors.

“I suppose he does stutter a lot. But when doesn’t he?”

“When he’s with you, normally,” Ginny muttered under her breath. You didn’t hear her, too lost in your own train of thought.

“He’s been avoiding eye contact too. Oh, I hope I didn’t scare him in any way-”

Ginny stood up abruptly. Caught off guard, your back hit the couch. “Where are you go-”

“Don’t fret about it, Y/N. I have a feeling you and Neville are going to be just fine.” Ginny stated it like she could tell your entire futures.

“Are you sure? I appreciate you helping-”

“No problem, Y/N. How about…you meet me tomorrow in the courtyard? I need your help with something.”

“I suppose I’m available. What does this have to do with-”

“Thanks, Y/N. Four'o'clock!” Ginny didn’t let you finish your sentence. As quickly as she approached, she vanished up the stairs.

You felt very confused and very exhausted. Maybe if you just sleep it off for one more night, you could get your mind less muddled. It was hard, with you tossing and turning every few minutes. It was impossible to get comfortable, and even less so to achieve peace of mind. You couldn’t help having the fear that perhaps Neville was outgrowing you.

At precisely four the following evening, you sat on a stone bench in the courtyard. Students were slowly filtering out, and the sun was low in the sky. There was a warm orange-yellow glow all around you. Despite the inviting ambiance, you were still conflicted about your feelings. And you certainly did not stop worrying about Neville. You took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. You are here because Ginny asked you to be, and you were going to wait for her and be a supportive friend. You wondered what the girl had up the sleeves of her robes. It was a few minutes past, and she was nowhere to be found.

The crunching of leaves caught your attention. Assuming the sounds to be from Ginny, you were shocked to see Neville instead. A smile immediately found its way up to your face, but it disappeared as soon as his eyes cast away from yours. Your shoulders slumped. He was avoiding eye contact again.

“H-hey, Neville.” You scoot over. “What brings you here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shrugs. Taking a seat beside you, a familiar uncomfortable silence quickly settles around you.

“Did I do something?” You ask, voice barely above a murmur. You looked down at the ground, biting your lip.

“Did you- what?” Neville looked at you now, concern glazing over his eyes.

“I just felt like..we haven’t talked in days. So, did I do something?” You repeat yourself.

“No, no! Of course you didn’t, you’re my best friend,” Neville reassured you. “I’ve just been…busy.”

You didn’t even feel the tears starting to gather up in your eyes. It took all the strength you had not to let it out. “You’re lying.” You try to remain calm, but your voice cracked at the end. You cast your eyes down, staring intently at your hands. You wouldn’t cry. You would not cry.

For such a brave Gryffindor, you crumbled so easily when it came to him. All it took was his arms to wrap around you and your emotions were released like birds from a cage. You didn’t know how long you spent sobbing into his sweater-vest. It was itchy, pathetic, and even a bit gross, but at least he was there this time.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so so sorry.” Neville rubbed soothing patterns on your back. It was how you used to calm him whenever he had nightmares as a kid. Him repaying the favor only made you cry harder. “I did this. I pulled away from you because I was so afraid of what I might do that I ended up hurting you even more.”

You sniffled. Pulling away and wiping at the tears furiously. “Meaning?” You beckoned for him to continue. You already felt better now that he was actually talking to you.

“You know you’ve always been my best friend. You’re always there for me. You’re kind, y-you’re sweet. You never let anyone get away with making me feel less than valuable,” Neville began.

“That’s because you are valuable. To me and everyone else.”

“A-and that’s what I mean!” He laughed dryly. “You always know what to do and say. I would have been lost without you, or worse. I could never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. You made me less afraid, but I’ve been more afraid than ever these past few days. I’m a coward.”

He lowered his head.

You felt your heart leap at a million kilometers an hour. “No, Neville. You’re not. Why are you afraid? I promise I can make it go away.” You cup your hands around his face. He looked you in the eye with so much raw emotion and fear and gratitude all mixed into a galaxy all on its own.

Then you felt something else. Looking at him only drew you in further. Closer and deeper until space was eliminated. In short, you finally had the guts to kiss Neville Longbottom with all your heart. It was soft, and Neville was still very shy, but it was just what you always wanted.

Neville pulled away abruptly, in shock at what he’s done. He was about to start apologizing, face red as his Gryffindor scarf, but you shut him up with another kiss.

“Is this what you were so afraid of?” You take a guess.

He nods and wraps you up in his arms. You felt like you could stay there forever. “Not anymore.”

You’re beautiful.

I get about 4 or 5 asks a day from girls wondering if Soda or Dally or whoever would still find them attractive even if they’re chubby/fat/bigger or whatever else and the answer is yes


Please lovelies, don’t base your self-worth on your weight or appearance. It scares me to see how many young girls are in my inbox telling me how much they hate themselves because of how they look. 

You are not going to love yourself more just because you’re smaller, and it’s not going to make people love you more. Losing weight doesn’t answer problems and focusing on it will deprive you of so much joy in your life. 

I’m not just saying this, either. I know all too well how this obsession with weight can rob you of happiness. I’ve seen more doctors than I can count and have been in out of hospitals a ridiculous number of times and seeing all of you beautiful people hating on yourselves because you’re not a size zero reminds me of myself when I was a young girl when my eating disorder was just starting. 

Yes, yes the gang would still love you even if you’re chubby, but more importantly;

Love yourselves.

anonymous asked:

57, and 161 for Jacob 😊 if you can, thx!

Originally posted by cwunch

A/N: 57: “Wait a second.. are you jealous?”

161: “Where did that cat come from?”

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

The library was hardly any place that Jacob would enjoy going much to your dismay. It was a sanctuary where you dove into brand new worlds and encouraged your own energy for writing, but it would have felt far more pleasant with him with you.

“Why bother reading of adventure and love when you can make it yourself?”

Those words by him were true, but they also bothered you. Where was the harm in indulging in a better life, even if it were within the written word? Where was the harm in imagining yourself in someone else’s shoes and enduring someone else’s hardships in comparison to your own?

You would give anything to be away from the choking smog of London and just be out at sea with some daring, handsome man who would sweep you away to a world of adventure.

Goodness knows Jacob refused to aid you in the idea of training you to become an assassin, so you were left to your own imagination and the drowning in the choking quiet when he was away on his missions.

The library was your sanctuary…it was your companion and lover to your creative heart. Why Jacob couldn’t aid you in such a passionate pastime was beyond you.

The chime of Big Ben alerted you to the hour and knowing that the library would close soon, you shut the book in your possession, repositioned it back on the shelf, and then took your leave out into the dreary, thick fog of London.

The smell of old ale, smoke, and burning oil of the flickering lamps made you bring your coat closer upon your body. You expected to hail a carriage of sorts to try and make your way back home to Jacob, but it was there you saw in the veil of the night, the hooded assassin waiting for you with his back against the opposing brick building.

“Jacob?” you questioned, situating your clothing better as you came closer towards him in a bit of worry. He rarely ever made his venture out to you unless it was urgent. “Is something the matter?”

His hazel eyes peered down at you through the shadow of the assassin cover, and just there in the darkness and meager lighting of the lamps about, you saw his lip curl upward in a smirk. “Nothing is the matter. I just thought you’d fancy a lift home.”

You still found it odd, but you didn’t question it right away as Jacob whistled loudly to halt a nearby Rook carriage. With the horse drawn carriage stopping before you both, you took to opening the door only to be lightly swatted away by your lover who insisted on opening it for you like a gentleman.

Again, very rare he did such a thing…

Jacob held the door and offered his hand for you to use to step into the carriage as you needed. “After you.” He was using that tone that was hard to decipher what he was thinking. It always felt like he had a jumble of emotions within him and the best way to disguise that was to act with a tinge of sarcasm. You didn’t question it right then and there and stepped into the wagon as he offered allowing him to come in behind you and shut the door.

As the horse went into motion, you and Jacob recoiled from the harsh movement though his hand was quick to find your upper thigh. Eyebrow raised, you peered at him out of wonder. “Something on your mind? You’re acting as though there’s something bothering you.”

“Bothering me?” he parroted quickly, scrunching up his nose and shaking his head shortly after. Jacob’s body language would insist that he was fine, but the awkward tenor in his voice and his mannerisms as of late were silently screaming otherwise. “Neh. I just assumed you would be home a bit earlier today. You had me worried.”

He hardly sounded worried…he sounded more frustrated. Looking away and feeling like a child being scolded, you hummed to yourself while hunting feverishly for an answer he could be satisfied with. “I’m sorry…you’re just…I don’t know when you’re home, and I don’t want to be there unless you are.”

Jacob moved his touch, arms crossing upon his chest. The sound of leather stretching from movement never sounded so threatening before. “I was home hours ago, (Y/N).” His tone had hardened, struggling with a desire to not lash out about something.

Why was he so furious? You were at the library. He knew that! “Jacob—.” You began with a spiteful tone of your own.

“I was waiting at home for you for three hours, and you didn’t show up!” the assassin continued, his voice rising this time as he gestured at his chest. “If you’re going to have your bloody little tryst with your books, why can’t it just be at home!” He was livid, and his voice quaked in a rather unsettling manner when he spoke in the confines of the carriage.

“I—!” Words halted dead in your throat at his sudden, unnecessary anger when it dawned on you what had him in such a fit. “Wait… a second.. are you jealous?”

Jacob jerked his head back, acting as though you just tried to take a swing at him and missed. The color in his cheeks hinted he was either caught or you merely upset him further. “I am not jealous over a bunch of rubbish books,” he grumbled between you both, moving his hood back and out of the way to let you see him a bit better in the light.

“Well, it seems to me that you are!” you responded back heatedly in return. There was no other reason for it. It wasn’t like you were seeing a man of any sort, and you knew this had to be what was causing his anger to rise. “How dare you take away my dream of a normal life and then deny me the right to my fantasy!”

When the carriage came to a stop, you pushed open your door and made a quick escape. Jacob could holler and scream at you to stop all he wanted, but he wasn’t being fair. He was being controlling, and you wouldn’t stand for it.

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Jacob ordered once more, hurrying into the house behind you regardless of your attempt to shut the door in his face to lock him out when you breached the threshold.

“I won’t let you treat me this way, Jacob!” you shouted furiously, stomping onward. “It’s not fair that you try to keep me from the very thing that gives me joy!”

Upon saying that, he grabbed at your wrist to prevent you from going further. “And I don’t give you joy?” he asked in dismay, shaking his head slowly with a somber scoff at the very thought. “Have I truly been so awful with tending to you and your heart…?” Before you could hope to answer, he continued, his face contorting to absolute pain as he hissed through his teeth. “Have I been so dreadful to you that you turn to the written word to feel pleasure of the mind, heart, and body while I waste away here as it were after every mission I’ve done to keep you and this world safe?”

Hearing him phrase it as that made you cringe, your heart squeezing a horrible pain through you. Eyes burning with the desire to cry, you weren’t even sure how to respond. Jacob was hardly around at times that you did tend to bury your nose in books more than enjoy in his company. “I just…I want you to be around for me to take comfort IN you, Jacob! I didn’t ask for my books to give me more joy over you, but…”

Jacob recoiled this time, fingers to his eyes to massage the pain there. It was a sight you rarely saw…Him leaning there against the wall with his head bowed and his face showing immense sadness that he had somehow lost you. He was doing everything in his power to be sure you wouldn’t see him cry—this would probably be the closest you’d see of that, and it ruined you that you nearly tore down such high defenses of his emotions.

“It’s not like that,” you spoke quietly, voice quivering at the realization you hurt him. “Why don’t you just let me train to be on the field with you?”

He raised his hands to halt that thought, but he didn’t verbally fight it. “(Y/N), just…” Jacob paused, clearing his throat to be rid of the sorrow that was bubbling up within him. You could see his eyes began to shine with the hint of tears, but you didn’t do anything to encourage them or point out the obvious sadness you accidentally caused with your honesty. “…Just let me work through this here first before I bother taking you under as my apprentice, alright?”

“How?” you asked with a heavy sigh, that single word threatening to break under the pressures of your own pain. “You don’t like to read, and I enjoy heavily in it. Same can be said for writing, but you wouldn’t want to read my works…”

“Evenings then,” spoke Jacob quickly, clearing his throat once more. “I’ll set aside some evenings for when we can get together and read before bed then.”

“Read together?” you asked, hopeful.

Jacob’s palm rested upon your back as he urged you forward to where your shared bedroom was. “You’ll read to me till I bother to get the hang of it,” he chuckled, wiping his eyes with his palm to act as though he were merely getting rid of soot or something to that nature and not ridding himself of his tears. Jacob’s hand moved onto the handle of the bedroom, pushing it open just a crack. “But first, I got you something that might aid in your loneliness when I am not here.”

He hardly even was able to get through most of that sentence when a black kitten wandered out from the bedroom, meowing up a storm as it tried to scurry past your feet only to be caught by Jacob in one quick swoop.

“Where did that cat come from?” you asked, though the curiousness quickly turned to baby talk as you scritched and pet under the feline’s little chin and just between the ears.

“He’s a little stray that kept hanging out at the Lambeth stronghold. Would get into the water pails and such just to drink, and one of the lads managed to catch him, so I decided to take him home.” Jacob moved the curious feline over to you to hold, aiding your hands about the cat’s body carefully like it was some newborn babe you had to be taught to hold. “He got a bit of a spider bite on his back foot there, but I saw to it that a specialist handled it. He’ll be just fine, but just like you, he needs someone to love him.”

You smiled sarcastically, looking up at Jacob as you kept the little critter close to your chest, its purring rhythmically humming against your body. “I already have you to love me,” you confessed, kissing upon his lower lip. “But I will be happy to have this little guy as a substitute for when you’re not around.”

What’s going on in my little head

Just a little something to break up all the selfies I’ve been posting. I don’t expect anyone to read but I’m not good at talking to people about how I feel so this felt like the best place to share what’s in my abnormally small head (seriously I have a little head, try unseeing that). So, apologies in advance For how long this is

So I always get pretty low during Autumn/Winter, not sure why, it’s just a thing that’s always happened. I mean I’ve always had trouble with anxiety and depression but something happens late September/early October, like something in me just clicks and every negative thought in my mind like low self confidence, body issues, etc. is amplified by like 50%. Which is a shame as the last 3 months are my favourite because Halloween, Birthday, Christmas. This is hardly the lowest I’ve ever felt, I’ve had wayyy worse years where I’ve just been on the verge of giving up altogether. The thing that makes this Autumn/Winter difficult is that it comes after what started out as the best year in my young adult life.

I began the year with my best friend in what has to be the most beautiful country I’ve ever visited (Gran Canaria), I got a job with decent working hours and I honestly couldn’t ask for a better team of people to work with. During Summer, I started talking to a guy who seemed really cool and after a while, we went to see a movie (Alien: Covenant, what a let down that was) and we dated for a very short time. He spent a couple weekends at mine which was awesome. I think that must have been the highest I’ve ever felt in a very long time. We just got on so well, It’s very rare that I meet someone I can just instantly get on with (like I said, anxiety. And I am awful in social situations). I’d finally found someone I really liked (and was pretty hot and a great kisser but that’s not important) and who seemed to like me back.

After quite a bit of time passed, we just slowly stopped talking and then eventually he said it wouldn’t work out as he’d be moving away to uni (and recently said he has commitment issues) which is fine. I’m not owed anything, if these things don’t work, they don’t work. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. I know I was way too needy, I was trying to move way too fast, I’ve just never been that crazy about a person before.

I felt alone again. I mean I have friends but even then, I get paranoid that they’ll be gone one day too. After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, I tried to get my life back on track. Hours at work started dropping which kinda makes money a bit of a difficult situation as my family isn’t exactly well off in that area and any dates I’ve had since the last guy haven’t really worked out either (I threw up on one of them… as in not on the guy, just during the date)

I felt like I was getting better, me and the guy from summer talk again now. Not like we used to but it feels like I’ve got a friend again and it’s nice to kinda have him back in my life… sort of… aaand then October came and all those feelings of loneliness came back. Every failed friendship, date, etc. flooding through my head at once, trying to work out where I went wrong. “Am I ugly” “what did I do wrong” “did I say something” “why did I drink so many mojitos” “Am I too needy”…. ignore that mojito one. That’s when I threw up

My friends will say and do everything they can to make me feel better but the truth is they can’t. No one can. I’m broken, and that’s just the way I am. I’ve got to find a way to deal with that. My 21st birthday is coming up and working hours seem to be improving so maybe things are looking up. I hope.

If you read this far, damn u crazy. But thank you. Sorry for how long this was. Just needed a place to vent. I’ll get back to posting selfies now :)

Brooooo I’ve been into the book of life for a while now, my shading/coloring skills are shit it’s actually motivated me to do some DIGITAL drawings. I’m not enough of an online artist to make this common knowledge but this is highly rare for me to actually use my tablet. Hopefully I’ll fix that.

Anyway, I saw this one asian video (no idea what it’s called) about a little girl and her dad. The little girl is showing her dad her class essay about him, and the dad is smiling when he reads how his daughter wrote how smart, cool, funny, clever and awesome he is and some shit like that. But then the dad gets to the next part, and the girl wrote that despite all those great things…

he lies

He lies how they have money, how he has an actual job, how he is not tired, how he is not hungry. The little girl in all says in her essay that she knows the struggle her daddy is goin through and says she just wants him to live happily and the video ends in hugs and heartfelt tears.

What’s that gotta do with this pic? Well I came up with this little idea in my mind where Manolo is the tired old dad, and because I’m a sucker for little kids, I turned Maria and Joaquin into the cute little tykes. Manolo works many odd jobs for his adopted kids that were orphaned a year or two ago or something, Joaquin’s dad killed by a terrorist and Maria’s dad done in while doing his duty at the military, and both their mothers are nowhere to be found. Either they’re dead, or missing (still trying to figure that part out). Manolo is poor as fuck and uses all his savings for his two precious babies and hides the fact that he’s ready to keel over from fatigue. He most likely doesn’t hide it well enough with those bags under his eyes. Maria and Joaquin are pretty fuckin smart.

I think imma call this Papanolo AU. I got more sketches planned.

*with eyes bleeding* i’ve managed to read it!!!!

Bill Hobart becomes a suspect. The night after a police raid at a restaurant the body of a French chef is found in the freezer. Hobart had been responsible for the raid and admits to handling out punishment during the procedure.

But there’s gossip that the chef was homosexual and may have been in a relationship with the restaurant’s owner. How will Charlie cope with the pressure of having to investigate his colleague when Hobart was so supportive during the murder investigation involving Ray?

And then writer Patricia Neville returns to home town for the release of her new book, which is highly critical of Ballarat and its residents. The morning after violence erupted at her library reading Patricia is found dead beside her unconscious sister.

What is first believed to be a murder-suicide seems less likely the further Lucien digs into the investigation. Both women had taken poison but there is no trace of it at the house and possible suspect are starting to emerge.

Proving ust as complicated is Lucien and Jean’s engagement. Now that they are officially a couple Jean must confront the years of gossip about her relationship. Jean is confided between keeping up with the social expectation for a single woman in the early 1960s, her responsibilities as a Catholic and her love for Lucien.

There is also lots to sort out before Lucie and Jean can say “I do” with the most pressing issue being Lucien and Mei Lin’s divorce. It’s frustrating legally that only reared its head when it was revealed Mei Lin was alive in season four. Before that Lucien had moved on with his life and felt free to pursue another romance.

Now Jean is hoping the divorce is dealt with quietly so that she can save face not only in the community but with her church as well. But sorting out the finer details of their upcoming marriafe in proving tricker than either anticipated.

I hate Jaehee (A rant)

During the last two days (I’ve been playing Zen’s route and I’m on day 8 at the moment) I have realised how much I detest Jaehee as a person. To the extreme, that I think she is my least favourite fictional character ever. Does anyone else feel the same way about her or am I over exaggerating? (Before I begin I haven’t done her route yet but I’m working on some information that I’ve gathered about it and my experience of her from Yoosung and Zen’s routes) 

Firstly, she doesn’t trust MC. I understand that she shouldn’t be confiding in me and telling me her life history about a week of knowing me (like Zen does) but she doesn’t really believe a word said by MC. Even though Seven (who she evidently trusts) has done extensive background checks, she still believes I could cause a problem. Or is that just another excuse for her to be jealous of Zen and MC? Is she trying to convince Zen not to be trusting so that he doesn’t date MC so that Jaehee can watch him from afar?

 Secondly, she obviously likes him as more than a fan. No fan would try and stop their idol from being happy with someone else. I love so many celebrities in real life but I’m not against them being in a relationship, as that would make them happy. I care for the person’s wellbeing as well as their career, which Jaehee doesn’t seem to understand. Thirdly, she needs to keep her opinions to herself more. Actually, that could go for most of the members of the RFA. They all speak without thinking of the consequences and that the person they are talking about will actually read what they said later. But as for Jaehee, she’s a little too concerned about someone else’s relationship. Primarily, a relationship is between two people and if you don’t agree with it, you shouldn’t say much. I understand why you may voice your concerns once, but don’t repeat it multiple times. I UNDERSTAND YOU BUT I JUST DON’T CARE! (I might be getting a little heated now haha)

 Next, if she doesn’t like her job so much, QUIT. If it’s causing you that much stress and you hate your boss all that much, don’t carry on doing it and complain about it. She talks about how great Zen is for doing his work not for the money but for his career and then she takes a job where the only thing interesting her is the money. Damn, she needs to get her priorities sorted. (Yes, I know Jumin treats her like shit but he IS a businessman and that’s what they do. She should have been prepared for it when she took the job. And now she knows that she hates it, she should just leave) 

Fifth, don’t complain about your job where your boss can see it, while he’s talking to you. You seem ungrateful. He could easily just fire you from your job and hire someone else. You are disposable, Jaehee. There are millions of other hardworking businesswomen who can be secretaries who would complain less than you do.

 Lastly, you’re just the kind of person I hate in real life. Negative, complains about every minor inconvenience in their life but doesn’t do anything to change it. Then, sticks her nose into other people’s business and tries to sort out their lives. No thank you! Also uses the lines ‘I hope this hasn’t caused any discomfort or animosity between us.’ Yes, it bloody well has! I don’t like you and I don’t think I ever will. 

I can’t be the only person who feels this way about Jaehee (or this strongly either)? Does she get better in her route? My friend said she wasn’t as bad then but I’m dreading it. Please, tell me how you feel about Jaehee. Argue her good points if you want (I have only concentrated on the negatives here, I know she’s not all bad). I’d love to hear your opinions on her and what redeems her as a character and as a person.

interpreting the existence of hetalia personifications

So, @yosb and I were talking about our interpretations of hetalia personifications and it…got way more academic than either of us anticipated so. Hence, this post to sort out and articulate my thoughts because it is incredibly interesting how differently we interpret hetalia personifications based on our own life experiences and background.

Here are the questions to think about in regards to the existence of hetalia personifications:

What do you consider the personification to be the personification of? 
What does this “nation” represent?

There are a variety of answers, but what I commonly find includes: land, people, government, culture, and history─  as well as how much the personification themselves have their own personal identity. These are all important factors to consider, and what’s most interesting to me is that everyone has a very unique interpretation of what percentage of these factors make up personification’s existence.

My personal interpretation is that a personification is based upon IDENTITY

Keep reading

Thank you anon who asked me to write about some FAHC origins. So have some Jack meeting Geoff! (Sorry my brain took it dark!)

Jack stared at herself in the mirror, watched as her skin changed colors so she could decide how to cover it. The mark faded from a bright red to a moderate pink in minutes but she continued to study herself.

The color of her hair seemed to have dulled over the years of her unhappy relationship and she was wearing more makeup than ever before. Her nails were either broken or ripped off, her bottom lip was split, and there was a bruise peeking out from the left sleeve of the shirt.

When had her eyes lost the life from them? What were once a vibrant green were now a lifeless sort of hazel.

“Where’s my fucking lunch?!” Was yelled from downstairs and Jack instantly flinched. Her heart pounded in her chest and there was a rushing sound in her ears. “Well, Bitch?”

Jack forced herself to move. To do anything to avoid getting hurt again. One foot in front of the other. Faster. Down the stairs.


David hadn’t always been this way. They had had a picture perfect relationship at the beginning. Until Jack had shared the one secret she had always kept close to her chest.

She wasn’t born a female.

After he found out, it started off with little things. But it quickly escalated to slaps or outright punches. How she had let it go this far was beyond her, but now she felt trapped.

It took three years before Jack finally had enough. And even then she hadn’t been the one to free herself: it was some stranger.

David held onto her hand tightly, probably to make sure Jack didn’t try anything outrageous. Her eyes were on the ground the whole time while she absentmindedly let him lead them home. Feet came into her field of view and then something collided with her shoulder. She immediately looked up to apologize but was was yanked backwards before she could by the hold on her hand.

“What the fuck was that all about?” David yelled. Jack hunched down into herself to try to hide from the wrath she knew was coming as he stepped closer.

“Hey man. Chill out it was an acc-”

“Shut up and stay out of this, you fucking cunt.” He yelled at the stranger. Jack sneaked a peek at the other to see a handlebar mustache and tattoos all over. Tired eyes that caught everything and a certain air about him that wanted to soothe her. But all of the safety of this man was overpowered by the fear and hatred that she had coming from her abusing boyfriend.

His free hand raised up into the air and Jack instantly let out a small whimper as she tried to escape his grasp. But before the impact, there was a gunshot that rang through the air. David fell to the ground, red pooling all around him. Jack struggled to loosen the grip of the dying man and stumbled backwards when she finally accomplished it.

“I-I’m sorry. But he was going to hit you!” The man fumbled for his words, no gun in sight. “I know he’s done this before, I see the marks. So please don’t call the cops.” He rushed on while his hands gestured towards her.

Jack merely stood there at a loss of words. The sound of sirens pulled her out of her thoughts as she realized what this meant.

She was free.

She was finally free!

“Thank you.” She breathed, water rolling down her cheeks. When did she start crying?

The man smiled and held out his hand. “M'name’s Geoff. Come with me.” He said. And his eyes were so lively. So excited. So full of promise.

How could she say no?

“Jack.” And she took his hand in hers. Then they took off.

Running down the street, they both had smiles on their faces and laughter was bubbling out of Jack, the first happy sound in four years. And she had never felt better. Had never felt such freedom as she did running from the law that day.

anonymous asked:

I find it super funny that you kind of relent on the cocaine thing but are super weirded out about have a kid @ 20. I know it's not ideal but its kind of the norm where I've grown up (my mom had me at 16) and I'm considered the weird one for not having a kid yet at 23. And cocaine would p much get you excommunicated.

its like the opposite here. like yea, plenty of my classmates do cocaine but we’re all from families who were anarchists and hippies and all came out well so its kinda like…less bad or something? like i wouldnt do it but my dad sure did it and my classmates are still functioning very well for people who just sort of do cocaine sometimes

having a kid without having a stable job/partner or enough life experience tho…..thats very looked down upon. i have literally never met a teen mom either, no one in my high school has ever gotten pregnant, nor do i know anyone who knows someone who got pregnant in high school. its just something that feels very irresponsible, especially for a dude like him who has a super unstable life. like, the girl he had the kid with and him were in a band together and thats not any kind of stability you can offer a child

i mean hes rich now. but still. theyre not together anymore who knows if he even wants to play a part in his kid’s life.

The Saddest Sorting

Sooo, we were talking in the LesMis365 chat today about Sorting/Hogwarts AUs, and I was talking about how I really don’t grok Gryffindor R… and @midautumnnightdream pointed out that he would have been sorted after Enjolras, and would have probably have Decided they were going to be in the same house just because. Whereupon I realised that this was the world’s saddest sorting headcanon. So heartbreaking, in fact, that I couldn’t help expanding it into a ficlet of it’s own. So here you go. Autumn, I hope this does your theory justice. 

“All right,” says Professor McGonagall. “Alphabetical order, please.”

Joly, the boy Grantaire shared a carriage with on the train, seems to be having trouble breathing.

“There are just so many ways this could go wrong,” he whispers loudly. “I was reading on the way up about one time a girl put the hat on and it swallowed her whole. It turned out she was half-banshee.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” says another kid, his voice full of indignation. “Why wouldn’t a half-banshee be allowed at Hogwarts?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice when it comes to stopping living for someone else? Because I find it really hard to do things for myself but I want to get better :/ But if you don't that's okay! I totally get it and I hope you have a great day! ^_^

tbh im not sure what advice i could give besides just putting thought and consideration into your future as well as what you can do now to care for yourself and make yourself happy. i know that can be really ridiculously hard, so im not sure how valuable it is as advice…

in my situation, i basically forced myself not to need that person anymore by cutting them out of my life expanding my network of friends and finding people that legitimately cared about me. i learned not to equate the worth of my entire existence to how others felt about me, because i knew that my friends didnt think of it in those terms either

im sorry i dont have any sort of outright, step by step plan for you but if ever you wanna talk things out more in-depth, feel free to come off anon! i wanan help if i can

Madame Tussauds!

Earlier this year in August I was lucky enough to go to Madame Tussauds in London. It was a magnificent experience for both adults and children. I found it just wonderful, I had never been anywhere like this in my life, it was amazing to see all my favourite stars and celebrities come to life, some were scarily realistic! I thought this would be interesting to mention in my blog. 

All of the costumes seemed to fit the wax models perfectly, they must’ve been tailored to their exact measurements. 

These two in particular you can see that their famous outfits fit amazingly well. The costumes are also just lovely, they didn’t look like ‘costumes’ they look like expensive dresses. 

Originally posted by gangsters-wife

I couldn’t leave TinkerBell out! Isn’t she so precious! Ooh I just love her, well her costume was made out of either a ceramic or plastic of some sort I can’t quite remember. There isn’t that much to her little costume but her wings were beautiful.

Originally posted by mundollenodenada

I liked to save the best two for last, these were actually this first celebs you see wen you walk through the doors, I personally think these could’ve been better presented. Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe are just magnificent, both wearing their most iconic pieces. To be completely honest I was a little bit let down by Audrey’s costume I couldn’t help but think it could’ve been done better; the sleeves were too baggy and the fabric used was generally cheap looking, it looked a bit rushed. Marilyn’s looked very accurate to the real thing, it’s quite a simple outfit so there isn’t much to say but it was very nicely finished off and definitely looked effortlessly elegant. 

Originally posted by 12305fifthhelenadrive