woah too nice!!!

okay so i tried my hand at writing for the first time in Years and idk if it’s any good?? idk its just Neil being introspective more that anything, mostly about andrew,, idk,, pls be nice to me it been so long since ive written 

In his 19 years of life Neil Josten had concerned himself with one thing: survival. He knew the concept like he knew every ugly blemish that marred his torso, like he knew the insistent need to get out of there perpetually lodged in his throat, like he knew the feel of cold steel against warm flesh again again again. That is to say he knew what it meant to survive intimately so. Neil knew how to shoot a man to make him bleed out without fatality and he knew how to kill a man without leaving a trace. The snik of a lock successfully picked, the consuming smoke and fire in his lungs, in his throat, on his tongue, the ricochet of a bullet and the resounding finality of the resultant echo were all sensations Neil had familiarised himself with over the years. Fear was something that had woven itself between Neil’s fingertips, burned behind eyes and weighted down his tongue. Intimacy meant feeling his mother’s heartbeat roaring in his ears on those nights it was too close, it was the back of his mother’s hand and the side of his face when he looked too long, it was Lola’s breath on his neck, hot and heavy.

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on another note this same study determined that cephalotus carnivorous/non-carnivorous leaves are determined by heat-responsive genes. so in warmer temperatures, more leaves will develop into carnivorous leaves, and in cooler temperatures, more leaves will develop into non-carnivorous leaves (each circle represents a testing sample of 45 plants):

rainjimin  asked:

not anon oops but honestly you are so talented and beautiful and i have heart eyes for u

oh my god, why are you so nice to me :(((.. i am nothing of that, really. like once you know me you will think i’m a total dork and jdshfjkdgdg shhh, omg, i’m just >////////< also,, talented? omg, shhhh i am NOT T^T but.. thank you ;_;

anon honesty hour

idk whether i like fall out boy and all time low’s new styles

Too Nice


Okay, so I’m literally in the middle of exams, but a little procrastinating wouldnt hurt right? Right! 

I’m catching up on some requests and so, here we go! 

Request:  Hi! Could you do a Pietro imagine where Pietro and the reader hate each other, but the avengers force them to work out there differences, and they discover that they both have feelings for each other? Love your blog btw. Great imagines too. 😋

Thank you, sweetheart. I’m sorry this is way past due but here you go !! :) 

Warning: Fluff lmao 

Originally posted by the-avengers-land

Originally posted by madsweetsoul

Too Nice 
(Pietro Goddamn Attractive Maximoff x Goddamn Attractive Reader)

“Panic room combination?”


“Um,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not sure if that’s right, but okay,”

“What do you mean it’s not right? I set this myself.” Y/N scoffed.

It wasn’t often that Y/N was to be left out of a mission. This only happened now because she had a broken leg and was unable to walk. It wouldn’t be logical if they brought her along an extraction mission that would involve breaking and entering, so Steve had to make her stay home.

“I think Stark changed it,” The Captain shrugged as he weighed out his shield. Y/N shrugged, “Either way, I’ll figure it out.”

Y/N was positioned in the lounge with her leg propped up on the coffee table and her crutches resting on the arm of the sofa. Steve was currently waiting for the others to suit up, so he decided to keep her company.

After a silence, Steve sighed in frustration, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Y/N shook her head and patted her cast, “Isn’t the first time I’ve gotten a broken leg and was left in the tower alone— oh, and wouldn’t it be nice to have the tower all to myself.”

“Um, you won’t exactly…” Steve tailed off as Natasha walked into the room, all equipped and ready to go. Tony and Clint followed soon after, talking about strategy and Wanda walked in, putting her arms through her jacket.

“You ready to go, Cap?” asked Natasha. Steve nodded and stood from his seat, “Is every one good?”

“Yep,” Tony nodded. “Barton and I thought of a little entrance if ever we were going to break in with style.”

Clint clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers as he pitched, “Fireworks,”

“No,” Steve stated and watched as Clint scowled at him and Tony grimaced, “You’re no fun.”

“Hey, where’s Speedick?” Y/N asked, noticing that the pestering nuisance wasn’t hovering over Wanda, like she expected him to when she entered the room.

“He is out getting pizza for the night, I believe,” Wanda answered. Y/N scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion and said, “Wait, you’re coming back tonight?”

“No, no,” Wanda said. Steve grew uncomfortable at the situation, knowing that there was going to be a major problem. “Pietro cannot cook for his life, and I doubt that you would want to eat his food.”

“Hold on, what’s going on?” Y/N demanded. If her speculations were true to what was about to happen, then she was screwed.

“We got you a babysitter,” Tony said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “It’s free and effortless!”

“Maximoff?!” Y/N almost screeched. Wanda raised a brow and then smirked, “You know, he isn’t all that bad.”


“C’mon, Y/N,” Clint pushed. “It’s just for a week or two; it couldn’t be that bad, right?” Clint and everyone else knew that they were lying to themselves. Y/N and Pietro did not at all go well with each other. They go into a room together and in less than a second, one of them comes out fuming. It was usually Y/N, but with the broken leg, lately it’s been Pietro.

“The dude hates me with everything he is,” Y/N exclaimed, straining her voice dramatically. “I can’t spend a week with him! Especially not when I’m injured like this!”

“Then it would be easier to get away from you, no?” Suddenly, Pietro was walking into the room with a slice of pizza in his hand and his signature smirk on his face. He wasn’t in any way prepped for the mission, making Y/N’s hopes of the team just messing with her shatter. As Y/N gaped at him in disbelief, Pietro turned to Tony and said, “I will watch over her.”

“No, you won’t,” Y/N growled and turned to Steve, “Please, just take him with you— or me! Take me with you.”

“That is rude, don’t you think?” Pietro frowned and took a bite off of his pizza. “Y/N, if you just stop being infuriating, you and I will be fine.”

Y/N gasped, “I’m infuriating? Excuse me, and you are an angel?”

“Pietro…” Wanda warned but he paid her no attention, “If I am an angel, draga, you are a saint.”

“There are a million things I can call you, Maximoff, you should be grateful that I don’t use foul words around children.”

“Children! Did you just call me a child?”

“Read between the lines, moron!”

“At least I do not whine about everything, princessa,”

“And who says I whine?!”

Everyone thinks you whine!”

“I only whine about you walking into my fucking life!”

“I didn’t ask the universe to meet you. Do you think I’m happy about having to spend the week taking care of you? Do you think I’m going to enjoy this at all? I drew the shortest stick out of the bunch, that’s why I am going to stay here with you. You should be grateful for the fucking pizza!”

“I’ll be more grateful if you leave me alone with the fucking pizza!”

“Oh my god!” Clint yelled out, silencing the two bickering heroes and drawing their attentions to him. “That is it!”


“I can’t believe they locked us in the panic room,” Y/N huffed, setting down her crutches and sitting on the little love seat the small (not so small) panic room provided. Steve was right about Tony changing the pin code of the lock, and now she was stuck in the room with Pietro, courtesy of Hawkeye. “They didn’t even give us the pizza.”

Pietro banged on the door, “Hey, give us the pizza!”

“No,” Clint stated on the other side and brought his fist down on the metal door, hard. Unfortunately for Pietro, his head was resting on the metal and the vibration of the door hit his head. “Ow!”

“Ha!” Y/N laughed. “You didn’t see that coming?” she mocked and laughed again.

“You know, I am glad you can’t move. You can stay there, and I will stay here on this much more comfortable bed.” Pietro smirked and flopped himself down on the given bed on the other corner of the room. Y/N mentally cursed  herself for not taking the bed, but there was no turning back now.

“Clint?” Y/N called out, but to no avail. She sighed, “They’re gone.”

“Well,” Pietro groaned, turning on his side. “This is going to be a long week.”

All throughout the day, Pietro and Y/N were bickering about anything and everything. Pietro would tease Y/N about not being able to walk and she would get on his nerves by yelling at him to do things for her. The list of arguments and insults went on, and in the end, they hated each other as much as ever.

It was currently half past midnight and Y/N was fast asleep on the couch with her head unevenly propped up on the arm of the chair and her legs sprawled out in an uncomfortable manner. As for Pietro, he was lying on the little bed, facing away from Y/N and staring at the wall, thinking about the events of today.

Pietro would often do that, go through his day in his mind at night when it was most quiet and peaceful. Questions like “what if I didn’t put my underwear on today?” and “What if Tony were the one who drew the shortest piece of paper earlier and not me” littered his mind, until that one question that always found itself searching for his answer attacked him once more.

“Why do I do this to Y/N?”

If Pietro were to be asked in the confinement of his room by his sister what he thought about Y/N, he would say it all.

She is witty, quirky, fantastic, amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous, hilarious, extraordinary, and perfect. She was perfect.

He wouldn’t mention how much she annoyed him, or how much he hated it when she did specific things because none of those were true— Pietro liked Y/N.

But no matter how hard he tried to fix things, she would always be caught up in the thought that he hated her.

Why did Pietro act that way around her? He didn’t know. He wanted to blame it on his ego and his cockiness, but it wasn’t just that. It was the longing to be just right— to be bad enough for her, for he knew how she showed an interest in edgy men, yet what was he? Certainly not someone she would fall for.

They would have their days and their moments where they would actually enjoy each other’s company, and those days were the ones that Pietro enjoyed and treasured the most, and he prayed every night for the next morning to be one of those days. Too bad the heavens only grant his wish once in a blue moon.

As he sighed to himself, he heard an uncomfortable groan come from Y/N’s mouth as she shifted on the couch. Immediately, Pietro stood up and walked over to her. Y/N had just taken her pain killers, so she was a groggy mess when Pietro spoke to her.

“Y/N,” he whispered softly, a complete contrast to his earlier yelling. “Y/N, I’m going to pick you up okay?”

Y/N’s eyes opened to tiny slits as she struggled to focus her vision on Pietro, “Hm?”

“I’m going to move you, yes?” Pietro said again and slipped his hand her back and her legs. She groaned, “Pietro…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he assured her, “I will take the couch.”

Pietro lifted her up with ease and relocated her to the small bed he was once resting on, giving Y/N’s back a satisfying stretch. She hummed satisfaction as she snuggled herself into the warm sheets. Pietro smiled as he slipped his arms away from under her body. Just as he was about to turn around, Y/N stopped him. With the little energy she had, she managed to say, “Where are you going?”

“I will be on the couch,” he told her. “Do not worry about me,”

“No,” she pouted and tugged on his wrist. “Plenty of room ‘ere,”

“It is no problem, Y/N,” Pietro chuckled, although his heart was beating as fast as he could run. “I have slept on rubble enough, the couch will not be in any means uncomfortable to me.”

Pietro pressed onto the hand that gripped his wrist and gently unlatched it from him. She frowned, but said nothing.

When Pietro rested on the couch, he heard her sigh. “I’m sorry for being mean to you, and calling you Speedick, and pulling your hair, and calling you a mutt…”

Pietro frowned, “It is okay, Y/N, please go to sleep.”

“You’re too nice to me.”

Pietro scoffed, “I highly doubt that. Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“I will if you come over here and make me,” she muttered, her eyes still closed but a faint smirk played upon her lips. Pietro took a moment and at first decided against it, but when he saw her pout, he gave in and slipped in beside her, making as much room between them as possible.

Y/N sighed and turned to face him, “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“Of course I do,” he told her honestly. “You are… you are amazing.”

“And you are too,” she confessed, feeling for his hand in the sheets. Pietro saw the notion and initiated it by wrapping his hand around her lurking one.

“Why must we fight?” she asked. Now, Pietro knew that her eyes were closed and she was fighting the urge to go to sleep, but he could sense the sincerity in her voice which made his heartbeat race. “I don’t know.”

There was a silence before Y/N said, “Thank you, Pietro.”

Pietro frowned. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me.” She said. “I see your efforts. I know you try to fix things, please don’t think that I don’t. I know you think I’m an insensitive, and arrogant and awful person, but you never stopped trying to make things okay between us,”


“And I think that’s why I like you,” she said, opening her eyes and looking up at him. The dim light in the room illuminated their faces enough for the other to appreciate the beauty before them. “I hate to say it, or maybe I don’t, but I really, really like you, Piet, and I know you don’t feel the same way and you might think I’m a weirdo in the morning and I hope to god, if you do right now, that this is all a dream.”

Pietro chuckled and brought a hand up to her face, “I like you too, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel her face heat up and she was thankful for the darkness of the room. “You know, I figured out the code right before I went to sleep.”

Pietro raised his brows, “Why didn’t you set it in then?”

“I guess I liked spending time with you.” She shrugged. “And also, I couldn’t get up remember? And I kind of kicked my crutches away from me when we were fighting.”

Pietro laughed and shook his head. She smiled at the sound of his laughter. It was the first time she made him laugh instead of want to rip his hair out. When Pietro’s laughing subsided into small chuckles, he suddenly turned shy again. “May I hug you?”

Y/N smiled and shut her eyes. “God, I hope this isn’t a dream.”

“It isn’t,” Pietro grinned and brought her close to his chest as he buried his face in her hair. “I’ll see you in the morning, weirdo.”

“See you, Speedick.”

Want me to write something about Pietro too? Click here!
Want to read more about Pietro? Click here!

I had this funny thought that since Star and Marcos souls are bonded from the Blood Moon Ball they share the same dreams

Sometimes they’re funny and they’re both like “Haha oh man I had this CRAZY dream about flying dogs and- WOAH ME TOO! NICE”

Other times they have dreams that are… Odd. They both wake up kinda awkward like “Um… Good morning.”

Star whispers to Marco “I didn’t know your dream self was so flexible.”

“Me neither.”