Notice

Bully

“Hey loser.” I heard, I mentally groaned when I heard his voice. Niall Horan, notorious for being one of school’s biggest bullies. I can’t believe I used to be best friends with him. He’s changed, and for the worse. I was pinned against the lockers, one of his arms, gripping mine and the other against the locker next to me. His face centimeters away from mine, although overwhelmed with fear, I couldn’t help but somewhat admire his features. 

His thin pink lips, His dyed blonde hair with his brunette roots, styled into a quiff, his button nose, his sharp jawline and finally, those ocean blue eyes that can strike fear with one glance yet somehow, so mesmerizing and... well, beautiful. 

“You’re looking fat and ugly as usual.” He snarled. I looked down, paying attention to my feet, yet tempted to look back and get lost in his eyes. “What’s the use of talking to a lonely nobody anyway?” He asked, and harshly pushed me away. 

I sighed as he walked away. What happened to that sweet boy I used to love? What do I mean used to, I know that sweet, carefree, little boy I fell in love with is still there, I know I’m wrong, but I refuse to believe he’s changed, I still believe that my Nialler is still there, but there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.

I sighed, walking to my next class, my head held low and wrapping my arms around myself. He’s right, I am a lonely nobody, Niall was my only and best friend, now I’m just a piece of shit that no one wants. Sitting at the back and covering myself with a hoodie. Slowly pulling my sleeve down and delicately tracing the scars I’ve caused.

“Oh my god! How lame are you to do that?” One of the bitches in the school came up to me, quickly hiding my wrist. “You self harm? Oh my god that’s so stupid of you.” “You know she actually looks good with those cuts.” “She’s and expert at it.” People gathering around me. I pushed past everyone and ran to the bathroom, knocking people as I did. 

Rushing into a stall and locking myself in it and tears flowing down my cheeks and muffling the sobs with my hand. What felt like hours of crying I finally finished and left, washing my swollen face and seeing my bloodshot eyes. I’m a mess. I sighed. “You’ve always been ugly Mel, that’s not changing.” I whispered to myself. Walking out feeling light-headed. Seeing Niall walk up to me, “Melody.” He called. That was the last thing that I heard when everything went black. 

Slowly opening my eyes, annoyed by the bright lights, and my head was pounding. “Where am I?” I groaned as I slowly sat up seeing...Niall, holding my hand and sleeping on the side of the bed. ‘What is he doing here?’ I thought. He flinched and sat up. “You’re awake! Oh thank goodness, you fainted.” He said and sighed of relief, seeing my sleeve rolled up and I quickly pulled it away from him. “I already saw it. “ He said. “Well, go ahead, make fun of me for doing it.” I said. “No baby.” He cooed and sat on the bed. “Why not? You’ve ruined my life already by hurting me, you left me, you’ve caused me enough grief. So why don’t you just torture me like you’ve always done.” I said, tears pouring out of my eyes. He sighed, reaching for my hands. “Get off me!” I shouted, pulling back, trying to get out of his grip. Pulling me into my chest and holding me tightly, while I was hitting his chest with my fists. 

Still holding onto me tightly, while crying my eyes out. I gave up, I feel to weak. The next thing I knew I was hugging him so tight, gripping onto the back of his T-shirt, crying silently in his arms. I felt I could lose him again if I let go.  “I’ve missed you so much.” I sobbed. “I’ve missed you too.” He cooed. Finally I ran out of tears, he did small circles on my back to calm me down and pressing his lips to my head. 

“Why?” I asked, my voice cracked from so much crying. “The doctors said you lost too much blood and apparently mentally exhausted.” He explained. “No, why did you turn on me?” I asked. He sighed and pulled away slightly. “Mel, I never meant to hurt you, I was forced to or you’d get hurt by the other bullies, I did it to protect you, but I only made it worse didn’t I?” He asked. I looked down, fiddling with my hands to avoid the question. 

He lifted up my chin, meeting with those beautiful eyes of his again, now full of concern and sorrow. “Mel, listen to me, I know I’ve hurt you, you don’t know how painful that is, to hurt the person that you love the most. Words can’t explain how regretful I am for doing all of those actions, saying all of those words. I despise myself for pushing you causing bruises when I wanted to run up to you and hold you. The words I said felt like a spear went through my heart every time it came out of my mouth. Mel, the word sorry isn’t enough for me to apologize, but please, I want my best friend back, I want to be with the girl who stole my heart.” He confessed. 

I did smile slightly, I know he’s sincere. “Nialler.” I called softly, he grinned when I called him by his nickname. I took his hands. “Let’s take baby steps okay? I need to get used to it again, hmm?” I asked, giving him a weak smile. “Of course princess.” He said smiling from ear to ear. We hugged, I can finally be in his arms again. 

It’s crazy how 6 months have past, now we’re as close just like before. I was walking by the field, when I heard his voice. “Munchkin!” He shouted, I turned around and he was running up to me and scooped me into a massive hug, lifting me up. I squealed as he did. We pulled away slightly, Niall still lifting me up. “What in the world happened?” I asked, giggling at how cute he looked. 

“I got into the school’s football(soccer) team!” He said excitingly. “Oh my god! That’s amazing Nialler!” I said and hugged him. We pulled away slightly, pushed by some guys running by, and our lips connected briefly. Quickly pulling away and blushing. He set me down. 

“Well, that was an awkward first kiss.” I said. “Well, why don’t we have a proper first kiss?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. My cheeks heating up. He leaned in and softly and passionately kissed me. I melted into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his hair. I felt as time had stopped and it was only us in the entire world. Pulling away reluctantly and smiling at each other. 

“So, how was your first kiss?” He asked smiling from ear to ear and leaning his forehead on mine. I smiled. “Amazing.” I replied. “Well, you can enjoy more kisses if you agree to have a date with me this weekend...” He said with his cheeky smile. I giggled and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you at 7 then.” I said and winked,pulling away and walking to my next class, looks like turned out well after all. 

_________

AN: Hi lovelies! Here is a new Niall Imagine and I hope you enjoy it! <3 (Hope it’s not too long) 

Haha, Finally getting some sleep after 4 years.

i think the only good thing about this 2016 break is that one direction will finally start respecting my sleep.

sam and dean per episode → pilot

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Writers Write is a resource for writers. In this post, we share formatting tips for professional writers, and we show you how to format numbers, italics, and bullet points.

Formatting Tips: Numbers, Italics, Bullet Points

There are as many correct ways of formatting as there are style guides. If you work for a company, stick to what your company prescribes. If you do not have a style guide, create your own.

Three of the most useful things to include in a style guide are how to write numbers, how to use italics, and how to use bullet points.

Formatting Tips For Professional Writers

bonus:

“I think fanfiction is literature and literature, for the most part, is fanfiction, and that anyone that dismisses it simply on the grounds that it’s derivative knows fuck-all about literature and needs to get the hell off my lawn. Most of the history of Western literature (and probably much of non-Western literature, but I can’t speak to that) is adapted or appropriated from something else. Homer wrote historyfic and Virgil wrote Homerfic and Dante wrote Virgilfic (where he makes himself a character and writes himself hanging out with Homer and Virgil and they’re like “OMG Dante you’re so cool.” He was the original Gary Stu). Milton wrote Bible fanfic, and everyone and their mom spent the Middle Ages writing King Arthur fanfic. In the sixteenth century you and another dude could translate the same Petrarchan sonnet and somehow have it count as two separate poems, and no one gave a fuck. Shakespeare doesn’t have a single original plot—although much of it would be more rightly termed RPF—and then John Fletcher and Mary Cowden Clarke and Gloria Naylor and Jane Smiley and Stephen Sondheim wrote Shakespeare fanfic. Guys like Pope and Dryden took old narratives and rewrote them to make fun of people they didn’t like, because the eighteenth century was basically high school. And Spenser! Don’t even get me started on Spenser. Here’s what fanfic authors/fans need to remember when anyone gives them shit: the idea that originality is somehow a good thing, an innately preferable thing, is a completely modern notion. Until about three hundred years ago, a good writer, by and large, was someone who could take a tried-and-true story and make it even more awesome. (If you want to sound fancy, the technical term is imitatio.) People were like, why would I wanna read something about some dude I’ve never heard of? There’s a new Sir Gawain story out, man! (As to when and how that changed, I tend to blame Daniel Defoe, or the Modernists, or reality television, depending on my mood.) I also find fanfic fascinating because it takes all the barriers that keep people from professional authorship—barriers that have weakened over the centuries but are nevertheless still very real—and blows right past them. Producing literature, much less circulating it, was something that was well nigh impossible for the vast majority of people for most of human history. First you had to live in a culture where people thought it was acceptable for you to even want to be literate in the first place. And then you had to find someone who could teach you how to read and write (the two didn’t necessarily go together). And you needed sufficient leisure time to learn. And be able to afford books, or at least be friends with someone rich enough to own books who would lend them to you. Good writers are usually well-read and professional writing is a full-time job, so you needed a lot of books, and a lot of leisure time both for reading and writing. And then you had to be in a high enough social position that someone would take you seriously and want to read your work—to have access to circulation/publication in addition to education and leisure time. A very tiny percentage of the population fit those parameters (in England, which is the only place I can speak of with some authority, that meant from 500-1000 A.D.: monks; 1000-1500: aristocratic men and the very occasional aristocratic woman; 1500-1800: aristocratic men, some middle-class men, a few aristocratic women; 1800-on, some middle-class women as well). What’s amazing is how many people who didn’t fit those parameters kept writing in spite of the constant message they got from society that no one cared about what they had to say, writing letters and diaries and stories and poems that often weren’t discovered until hundreds of years later. Humans have an urge to express themselves, to tell stories, and fanfic lets them. If you’ve got access to a computer and an hour or two to while away of an evening, you can create something that people will see and respond to instantly, with a built-in community of people who care about what you have to say. I do write the occasional fic; I wish I had the time and mental energy to write more. I’ll admit I don’t read a lot of fic these days because most of it is not—and I know how snobbish this sounds—particularly well-written. That doesn’t mean it’s “not good”—there are a lot of reasons people read fic and not all of them have to do with wanting to read finely crafted prose. That’s why fic is awesome—it creates a place for all kinds of storytelling. But for me personally, now that my job entails reading about 1500 pages of undergraduate writing per year, when I have time to read for enjoyment I want it to be by someone who really knows what they’re doing. There’s tons of high-quality fic, of course, but I no longer have the time and patience to go searching for it that I had ten years ago. But whether I’m reading it or not, I love that fanfiction exists. Because without people doing what fanfiction writers do, literature wouldn’t exist. (And then I’d be out of a job and, frankly, I don’t know how to do anything else.)”

— “As a professor, may I ask you what you think about fanfiction?” (via meiringens)

Oh my GOD <33333

in honor of the 10 year anniversary of the most ICONIC movie of all time, HSM, i decided to make this  :^)

fuzzy_chops: Got me an appetite…

“I won’t act my age!”- Act my age. 

if you had to get a tattoo of a 1d lyric, what lyric would you get?