love-helps inquired:
OMG THE HICKEY THING also i'll respond to the "i love you" thing tonight i think i might be calm enough

Sam couldn’t believe how nervous she was to be going to the Jezabels concert with Mason. She’d never been this nervous before- ok, that was a lie the first day he’d helped her “escape” from the hospital she’d been nervous, but that had been so long ago… She was finishing up her hair when she heard his knock come at the door.

Double checking her appearance in the mirror, she sighed realizing she didn’t have time to change into something sexier and hoped that she wasn’t under dressed.

Making her way to the door, she pulled it open and smiled at Mason, “Well hello you!” She stepped closer to give him a hug when her eyes fell on the tell tale signs of a hickie right below his ear. Her stomach twisted in jealousy and she did her best to mask her emotions, plastering a fake smile on her lips, “Someone was having fun!” She hoped she sounded like she was joking as she playfully poked his hickie, but inside she was twisted in knots. She’d not seen a hickie on him since before Eloise died, and in the back of her mind she’d been hoping that she’d be the next one to give him one.

Looked like all of her fears were coming true: He didn’t feel the same way towards her that she felt towards him. And the hickie was the proof of that.

legendarypkmnwrites inquired:
A dementor because you took my soul away

Hahahaha I have black sheets, I think I could make this happen for halloween!

legendarypkmnwrites inquired:
His pacing could be heard from anywhere in the house, his footsteps resonating against the wood, on and on, at a rhythm that could drive one crazy. All of a sudden, once he was standing in front of Peace, he looked at the woman with wide eyes, his disbelief spreading over his features, causing his body to tremble with a mild tremor, his calm demeanor having vanished, his arms spread to each side of him. "Who... Who did that hickey? You wouldn't cheat on me, would you? Peace, tell me the truth."

Peace came in from her evening run, something she and Jeremiah usually did together, but she’d gotten home early and decided to just go out for a bit longer rather than wait for him. When she was finally ready to head back home, she let herself in, tossing her keys on the entryway table and taking her earbuds out before almost colliding with Jeremiah.

"Jer-" she smiled, though her smile disappeared as soon as she saw the look in his eyes and heard the words he was spitting at her.

"Are you seriously asking me who gave me this hickey after last night?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched him with careful eyes. She could try he was trying to not be angry but at the same time he was so angry she wondered if she needed to be scared. He’d never hit her before, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t start any time soon.

"Of course I wouldn’t cheat on you, Jer, I love you. I seriously can NOT believe you’re asking me this!" she said, shaking her head no before trying to brush past him. "Now, if you’re done accusing me of absolutely ridiculous bullshit I’m going to take a shower."

pretendersrps inquired:


♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes

Read More

Peace had started to not set her alarm clock now that Jeremiah was living with her. SHe seemed to wake up shortly after his warmth left the bed, and he was an early riser, so so long as she didn’t curl up and try to sleep longer, she was fine. Today was no exception, and after Jeremiah left the bed, within minutes she was shivering with the lack of warmth pressed into her side.

During a deep stretch, she yawned, trying to relish the last vestiges of sleep before blinking the night away and facing the day. Eventually climbing out of bed, she fumbled blindly for something to wear on the floor, pulling on the first thing her hands grasped, not even bothering to realize it was Jer’s shirt from the night before. She tugged it on before padding towards the kitchen, reaching a hand up to scratch her neck as she heard him making noises in the kitchen.

A sleep smile lifted her lips as he asked if it was new and murmured a soft, “Mmmm, it was available” before standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips gently. As she pulled away, she started to make coffee for them, falling into what’s seemed to have all ready become the ritual of Jer making breakfast while she did her best to distract him.


"No, that’s… that’s not what I meant," Spencer replied, sighing while she tried to take comfort in the coolness against her back. It certainly helped the headache that was forming, undoubtedly from dehydration. This unsub had the girls on a strict schedule, and controlled anything they ate, drank, when they slept, if and when they could go to the bathroom… it taken quite some pleading to even get a bucket. 

"I just mean… if this had happened a few years ago… I probably would’ve given up. But you and I- all of us here, we have to have something to live for. I have my family. And because of that… because of that better life… that’s what’s going to help us escape. You just can’t give up hope, okay? And you have to trust me."


Chance couldn’t help the sardonic smirk that curled her lips. “Oh, no, honey. You’ve got me all wrong. I have nothing to live for, which makes me the most dangerous woman they could be holding, even over you,” she said. “The woman who has nothing to live for also has nothing to lose,” she pointed out, lifting her shoulder in a shrug. “Plus, I’ve been in this situation before, believe it or not, I know what it takes to survive, what it takes to eventually get out of here.” The words were spit out as a memory flashed in Chance’s mind, and try as she might to push it back, it refused to be hidden again.

Chance had been 15 when her mother’s boyfriend began locking her up, only letting her out when the school began to call, worried that she’d missed too many classes, or letting her out only after she agreed to let him have his fun. Living with him had been hell and her mother didn’t make it any easier. She never believed that her mom didn’t know what was happening, especially after the woman made her keep the assholes baby. Chance had absolutely no regrets when she drove the fuck out of that town the minute she could. She’s never looked back since.

"Don’t worry, I’ll survive, I always have, and I always will."


Industrial designer Scott Summit, of Summit ID, creates incredibly beautiful prosthetic pieces. They are created on a 3D printer, with the user’s other limbs as a point of reference, resulting in beautifully symmetric limbs.  

His philosophy of creating personal and elegant rather than mass-produced, functional pieces really shows through the grace of his work.  

Some of the more beautiful things that come out of this philosophy range from recreating a tattoo that was lost to matching a purse to looking like a piece of sport equipment: whatever is important and personal to the wearer’s life become reflected in their new prosthetic limb. 

(Listen to his Ted Talk here)

(Source: littlemiss-rachelb)

(Source: inboxideas)


send me a character + thing if you wanna know my headcanon for them and that thing

ex: molly hayes + sleeping