yeah we have a director in talks for a nightwing movi-
me, already crying:
please just. take my money take all of it just take it off my hands. this 5 dollar bill? yours. this quarter? yours. that's all the money I have but it's yours now p lease just come through
every time Bruce starts lecturing someone, Tim’ll stand slightly behind him and talk over him really loudly in a deeper voice until Bruce is looking like Murder
Tim, flashing two 5 dollar bills and a PIzza Hut coupon: “maybe this will convince you”
at galas, when Bruce has a pretty lady on his arm, Tim will lean over and whisper “she doesn’t have the range” “What??” “she doesn’t have the range, Bruce.”
one time he ate an entire 1lb bag of sour gummi worms in one sitting. he had never wished for death more than during those following hours of complete misery. his stomach was collapsing inwards and his tongue was numb
fell asleep at a WE meeting with his eyes open and freaked out half the people in the room. one guy thought he might have died and security was called. Bruce brings it up every time he’s pissed at tim.
February: The fall starts easy. I took baby aspirin, and a rusty spoon to my head, and smoked the stale weed my brother left in a broken vase before he left for college. Night comes fast, and tells the creation story. I ignore her this time. I don’t give a fuck about how I was made anymore tell me how I fall apart.
March: Nobody can ever find the raw spot on their leg until they start itching. I remember 6th grade when the mosquito bit my calf. Larvae and laps on the soccer field in early spring. He is oozing into my shoes with the mud.
April: My mother buried my rusty spoon, and took my brown hands. the clothesline was dripping carbonated orange soda sun, the wind was soft, the mice were sleeping warm beneath the floorboards; she spread my tarot on the floor with the forever broken and gnarled thumb she stuck in a blender when she was 5. That spring I walked home alone some nights, the heatwaves followed me like the labored breath of drunk men who don’t take no for an answer, I turned over The Devil and someone dropped a wine glass next door, she gasped, white eyes, the mice began to scrape and scream, the heatwave killed their children like it split my shoulders open and ate the youth inside.
May: The month of falling out of trees, junior high was gonna shipwreck any day now. There is a fast food place where the milkshakes taste like cough syrup and the skater kids cheat death on 3 feet of concrete stairs. There is a crack in the sidewalk in front of it, and he kick flips on it to break the back of the mother who left him at 13, he breeds violence between his fraying vans and then something in his ankle snaps, my oxygen goes tar black. He bleeds, he. Makes this sound. Like a dog when you step on its foot. I want to hold him, put a butterfly on his cheek, give him a band aid, something, God, something. He looks like he’s in pain. I want to. I don’t know. Help.
I walk away trembling and put my head between my knees behind a dumpster full of shitty milkshakes.
June: The neighbors fuck like rabbits while I’m trying to cry to joy division. I pray for a lightning strike. This type of poetry is for pretty girls, anyway.
July: my birthday flies into the glass of my bedroom window and breaks its neck. mom said the only things you can grow in summer that won’t die are grapefruit and hair, and I made a garden, I cut my chest open for Demeter each full moon. These locks were watered with gulf stream sea spray. I fed them bludgeoned daydreams. I threw my head against church doors trying to send Jesus some red flowers for his funeral, or maybe his birthday, doesn’t really matter, we celebrate both.
August: I got kicked out of high school knocking myself out on my desk. People carved hearts into the enamel, I carved my heart out of my chest and turned it in for my midterm. I slam dunked my skull into the bleachers on game day, and when the bleachers fell, into my history textbook, and when the book was mushy with blood, into the track field. I’m grinning ugly, dancing to the 80’s synth in an empty gym after homecoming, with a nosebleed dripping love songs down my yellow teeth, like words on old gravestones: here lies a moontoothed lover who will never rest in peace, every night she claws her grave and hears the call of western waves.
September: I’m high on concussion flavored car races in a stolen low rider, bluebirds fly in circles around my head after we crash, I wrote a song on a 5 dollar bill called blunt force trauma and it is about skater boys with broken noses, snarls of shaggy Jew fro his friends make fun of, and hands. that graze los angeles highways while he rides asphalt waves, slam his locker, and give the finger to the education system he keeps tripping over like untied shoelaces. he pricks those hands sewing together the lackluster parties private school kids throw. he puts his dewy rose bud lips to the jack daniels bottle, and kicks the drum kit over, gives it mouth to mouth, pump his fists into someone’s chest, gives it a pulse again. hands big enough to steal grapefruit with, the size of my swollen heart. I didn’t know it could get that big but he bumped into me, buzzing like a light saber, sky walking out of the grocery store with a grapefruit. with my heart.
October: do you have a girl do you? have a lover? Jupiter is orbiting around whatever this emotion is called, the rollercoaster one. when you look at me. We spend Halloween turning into werewolves at the library, you were moshing in the kids section, bleaching your hair in punk rock, I was banging my bruised and knuckleheaded love poems into a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet, brushing my hair with broken glass. That was the first day the blood on our hands was not our own, she shushed us and we laughed. High on Shakespeare and Jupiter gas, we dug our fangs into the dewy decimal system. You ask me my name, I tell you, you smile. We had matching bruises and I floated home.
November: You make me. Feel. You make me feel like I can speak to snakes. You make me feel like my hips have a purpose besides balancing bins of laundry, and bowls of fruit. You make 17 stop feeling like a suicide note no one will read. you make me banshee scream and lick like fire against young pines, when you. dance. when you. kiss her, let her ride your double dutch hips, and your skateboard. She is a new coin, tangy on his numb tongue, and he tucks her in his pocket, his lucky penny. I’m the bubblegum he scrapes off his sneakers and throws into a storm drain.
December: I still cower into my pillow and smile a crooked smile, and go red at the cheeks, you. You put the red in my cheeks. I’m here, I’m exploding, why can’t you see me? Just put the bottle down, take your hand from your eyes, I won’t ask you what happened to your face, or how you got that scar, I will just like you and like you. we can buy angels wings in Hollywood, make an apartment out of crumpled homework pages at the bottoms of our dirty backpacks, we can drop out of high school, I will like you and dissect your sadness like frogs in freshman biology I am used to the rotting smell in your ribcage, I reek of it too. I will like you. until I know how to love you.
January: I switch schools, I cut my hair, bleach what little is left. It makes my mother unhappy, she thinks my spirit world is severing ties, she thinks my planets are discordant. I ask somebody back home about him, she says he dropped out and started working on cars.
I come down. Softly.
February (again, again, again): He was born to a rabbi and a beauty queen. I was born to a chemist, and a witch. Ammonia, bleach. Don’t mix them unless you want someone to die. Blood, adolescence, summer saltwater. Don’t mix them unless you want to make somebody wish they were dead.
So exactly what are the ways in which I can tell a real bill from a fake?? So far, I haven't encountered any fakes that I know of, but I want to be prepared for when I do.
Inspect the quality of printing. Generally, fake dollars will seem flatter and with few details when touched. When making real dollars, it involves printing techniques which are unknown and therefore very hard to replicate. You should look for blurry areas, especially in fine details such as around the borders.
Look at the portrait. There should be certain differences that may show you if the bill is fake.
Portraits in fake bills may seem dull, blurred, and flat, while in real currency, the portraits are sharp and contain fine detailing.
On a real bill, the portrait tends to stand out from the background. On counterfeit bills, the portrait’s coloring tends to blend too much with the bill.
Also, use a magnifying glass to watch the rim of the portrait. There must be written “THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA” repeated along the sides of the portrait. This will look like a solid line to the naked eye. This feature is especially hard to replicate using office machine copiers or printers due to its size and detail.
Check the serial numbers. There should be two serial numbers located on the face of the bill. Look at the bill carefully and make sure that the serial numbers match. You should check if the the color of the serial numbers on the bill match the color of the Treasury Seal. If they do not match, the bill is likely a fake.
Look for watermarks. Use the day light to see if your bill bears an image of the portrait. It can be seen on all $10, $20, $50, and $100 bills series 1996 and later, and on $5 bills series 1999 and later. The watermark is embedded in the paper to the right of the portrait and should be visible from both sides of the bill.
Now, here is what you can do with the help of some materials:
Apply an UV (black) light to look at security threads. Plastic strips (a vertical line) in high-denomination bills should glow a specific color. The $5 dollar bill should glow blue; the $10 bill should glow orange; the $20 bill should glow green; the $50 bill should glow yellow; the $100 bill should glow pink.
I’m an old man living alone in an old house. My wife and I bought it
10 years ago, just before she passed. I don’t know how old it is. If I
had to guess, I’d say at least 150 years. It’s your typical old house
in back country southern United States, surrounded by forest and far
from the closest neighbor.
Summary: Your best friend in the whole galaxy is coming to visit to help out with Thanos. When he arrives, Steve finds himself jealous of the close relationship Peter and you have. Will this stop the man from telling you how he feels? Will old feelings be brought up once Peter arrives? Does first love truly fade?
FOR CLARIFICATION! this is the post that I will be pulling winners from!
1st: - The larger Inksquad sticker - Five dollars (American! It started as a joke but I’m committed now. 5 dollar bills.) -5 candy bars of your choice - Two traditional drawings! - Three other surprise gifts! (Possibly like stuffed animals, more drawings, or even more candy)
2nd: - The smaller Inksquad sticker - Three dollars - three candy bars of your choice - One traditional drawing - Two surprise gifts
3rd: - A dollar - Two candy bars - A traditional drawing - A digital drawing - A surprise gift
-HOW TO ENTER-
- Must be following me! - Likes and reblogs both count, but if you like and reblog, you’ll have a better chance!
A/n: omg y'all idk if this is accurate, I never went to my prom Hahaha, enjoy babies! ❤
I put whip cream on a cappuccino and handed is over to Alex Standall, “enjoy your coffee.”
He smiled at me and took the drink of the table and left to sit with Jessica and Hannah.
The front door opened and I’m came Zach looking around Monet’s before spotting me. He smiled widely at me and started to walk over. I looked at my best friend Skye helplessly. I’ve had the biggest crush on him forever.
She shrugged and continued making someone’s drink.
“Y/l/n! What are you doing here?” He asked laughing slightly. He was pretending to be shocked to see me.
“Hey Dempsey! Yeah, I work here. I have for the past, oh, I don’t know, year and a half.” I said annoyed, “and you’ve seen me here since school started this fall, yet, you’re still pretending like you don’t know I work here?”
His smile dropped but he just reached for his wallet, “one Hot Chocolate please.” And handed me a 5 dollar bill with it.
I was about to start to count up his change, “keep it.” He shrugged.
I smiled and put the money back down before scratching hot chocolate on a paper in front of Skye.
“I’ll have that done in a second for you.” I nodded toward Skye who slid a coffee across the table to a middle school age girl.
“Y/n,” Zach said once I went to put the remaining change in the tip jar.
“Yes, Zachary?” I turned around to look at him.
“Um… I actually came here because I was just wondering if you had a date to prom yet?” He asked nervously.
“No,” I said walking over to the other side of the counter and changing out the filter, “i don’t know. I really have never wanted to go.”
Zach’s smile dropped, “oh…” he muttered.
I walked over to his finished drink and put while cream on it just like I did to Alex’s, “why? Do you need advice for asking someone to prom. Those promposals are getting so serious.” I laughed at how much effort people have been putting in for one night that doesn’t even matter. Skye handed me his drink which I put a thick, baby blue, striped, straw into. I slid his drink across the table.
“Um no. I just thought, maybe, you’d wanna go with me…” he looked down at his shoes.
The corners of my mouth tugged upward, “sure.”
He sighed, “I understand.” And grabbed his hot chocolate.
I laughed pushing a stand of hair behind my ear, “I said yes dumb head.”
“Wait really?!” He asked shocked.
“Sure why not,” I said well another person came towards the counter, “you should probably get out of here though, you have practice in,” I glanced at the clock, “about… 3 minutes and I have to take this order.”
Zach realized what time it was and he scrabbled to his feet and he just took his drink, smiled at me, and jogged for the door.
I looked at myself in the mirror once again, “i think I’m ready.”
My mom nodded and her eyes welled up with tears and she quickly wiped them.
I covered my face with my hands ever so gently to not smudge my makeup, “mom don’t cry. I’m just going to prom, not disappearing.”
“Oh don’t do that.” She took my hands away from my face and smiled fanning her eyes, “you’re just so grown.”
My friends and I all decided we wanted to all come to my house, with our families, to get ready for prom.
“Okay! Ladies, I think we’re all finished here?” My mom announced. Everyone nodded in agreement.
I linked arms with my best friend, Jaylyn, and she and I walked together outside. I stepped down the steps of my porch to see Zachary and all my friend’s dates outside too.
I smiled at in Zach’s direction to see him in depth of a conversation with Jaylyn’s boyfriend.
“Cameron!” Jaylyn said happily walking over to hug him.
“Hey.” That pulled him out of his conversation and put all of his concentration on Jaylyn. I looked at my best friend and her boyfriend admiringly.
Zach stared at me with wife eyes before I made my way over to him.
“Staring is rude, you know?” I joked and he laughed putting his head down.
“Hey baby.” He said happily dragging out the ‘y’ hugging me.
‘I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt’
My heartbeat quickened at the sudden slow song. I brushed my hands over my dress, smoothing out the sequins of my royal blue dress.
Zach walked back from talking with Justin and Jess.
“So… it’s a slow song.” He pointed out obviously before grabbing my hips lightly and pulling my body closer to him, “and I’m pretty sure this is the part when we dance together.”
I laughed lightly looking down, I wrapped my arms around his neck, having to lean up on my heels a little bit, “I guess so.”
'Take me back to the night we met’
This was one of my favorites songs, and only one person In all of Liberty knew that. I glanced up at tony, who gave me a wink and pointed to his DJ table.
I shook my head, internally laughing.
So it is, I went to prom with Zach Dempsey, The star basketball player. It almost didn’t feel real, but In a good way. I relaxed and I felt like no one else was in the room besides us.
The only thing that mattered right then, was Zach.
“You’re so beautiful.” The boy in front of me said snapping me out of my thoughts.
My eyes met his and thanks to the dim lights, he didn’t notice the pink tint rise on my cheeks.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I smiled taking a 'freshly-done-nails-hand" to run through his soft, black hair.
“I love you y/n.” He whispered seconds later.
My stomach did a flip and my knees got weak but Zachary’s gentle, but firm grip on my hips stopped me from slouching even a little bit.
“I love you too…”
When Jooheon works at your local coffee shop which also happens to be your favorite hangout spot
You walked down the long sidewalk almost reaching your destination. The sound of the rain trickling down, hitting the pavement, was surrounding you. You could also hear the drops of rain hitting your umbrella at a steady pace. It was quite cold and you wanted to go some place to warm up before heading home.
You decided to go visit your local coffee shop after a long day of school. It was a small but comforting store owned by a woman and her son. Although it was a quite popular spot, it never got too overwhelming which made you even like it more. Their menu was intriguing and the employees were all nice.
There was one employee, however, that always managed to catch your attention. He had dark brown hair and a set of dimples that showed up whenever he smiled. You caught yourself staring at him multiples times during past visits, but you never had the courage to actually talk to him. You could tell he was friendly from the way he greeted customers. He smiled big and talked to them as if they were long time friends. Seeing him acting that way made you smile because its rare to find someone enjoy their job.
As you approached the small shop, your heart started racing. You noticed the dark haired boy inside, behind the cash register. You pushed open the doors while closing your umbrella, placing it in a plastic bag the store had put near the door for wet umbrellas.
“That’ll be $2.75” the boy smiled at the elderly woman that was across from him. I got in line and waited for the woman to finish paying. You took out one earbud while looking at the menu deciding what you would get this time. You didn’t know why you were nervous but you tried to push the feeling aside.
“Thank you ma'am, enjoy your coffee!” his voice rang through the store. I stepped up to the cash register, not looking at the boy in front of me.
“Can I-um have a regular coffee with two sugars and a pump of caramel…and a cinnamon roll please” you muttered out while looking down at your purse starting to get your money out.
“Alright, that’ll be $3.50” Out of the corner of your eyes you saw the boy looking at you, a small smile on his lips. You fumbled through your purse and finally managed to get a 5 dollar bill out. While handing it to him, his fingertips brushed your hand lightly which gave you butterflies in your stomach. You took the change from him and moved to a nearby table, waiting for your order to be done. The boy had disappeared into the back while another employee had replaced him.
You were reading a new book you had bought, still waiting when suddenly a pair of feet were approaching you. They set down 2 cups of coffee and a brown paper bag, which what you assumed to be was your cinnamon roll. As they were dragging a chair you looked up and noticed a pair of similar eyes.
“Hi, my name is Jooheon,” the boy peered at you through his circle frames. “I know this is sudden but I’m on break right now and I thought maybe I could sit with you” he chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You looked around and noticed that the shop had a lot of customers. Almost all the tables were taken, which surprised you because you had never noticed until now.
“Thats fine. I’m (y/n) by the way” you said, finally looking up at him while smiling. He gave you a smile back making his dimples appear. ‘Cute’ you said in your head while proceeding to drink your coffee. He noticed the book that was on the table and smiled.
“Can you believe the main character ended up dying?” he said looking at you with a shocked expression.
“Spoilers!” you exclaimed while covering your ears. Jooheon erupted into laughter, which just confused you.
“I was joking silly, I’ve never even read that book” you relaxed once he said that, glad that he didnt spoil the ending for you.
After a while you two had gotten to know each other and chatted until he had to get back to work. You had bought a new book and decided to read it after he had left. It was starting to get late and the once rainy day was turning into a dark cloudy night.
You were halfway through your book when you noticed the shop would be closing in 5 minutes.
“Shit” you cursed at yourself realizing you had to get home. As you started putting on your jacket and gathering your things, you saw the employees cleaning up. You scanned the room trying to find Jooheon but had no luck. Sighing, you took the bag that had your half eaten cinnamon toll and started walking to the doors. You stepped outside, into the cold dark night and started making your way to your house.
“Wait up, (y/n)!” you heard someone yell your name. You looked back to see Jooheon running, trying to catch up to you. You giggled, watching him try to dodge people that were walking the opposite way. Once he caught up to you, you both started talking again. He noticed the book in your hand and turned to look at you.
Stares nailing each other. Hearts pounding. Focus intense. Occasional swear words, and a fist into the tabletop. 5 wrinkled dollar bills in front of you.
This, this was you and Dean playing card games. And you loved them, well, when you won.
It all started years ago, when your dad bought you a deck of playing cards back when you were kids. It became a beloved thing, since it was synonymous with family nights. Because, John used to teach you to play new games when he had a free night from hunting. You would just sit around the table, all four of you, and play for hours, the soft murmuring of the TV or the radio in the background.
Now, you and Dean loved to compete. You challenged each other all the time, from who could run the fastest, who could eat up a burger in the least amount of time or who could shoot the most empty glass bottles out of five. So, of course you began playing card games as well just to compete. And you took it very seriously, as you did with everything else, and Sam never joined you since he thought you were embarrassing - although, he never said that out loud of course.
You grew up and the candy you usually played about got replaced by a small amount of money. The cards got older, worn and slightly discolored but you all refused to by a new set. Especially now that John was gone.
“How is it going Dean?” You asked, trying to get into his head.
“You think you can beat me at my game? When was the last time you won, huh?”
While you played it was as if life and death depended on it. You’d lost the latest time you played, and you just would not do it again. And while Dean put his last card on the table, you smirked and placed yours.
“Boom!” You exclaimed and stood up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m back bitches.”
“Whatever,” Dean groaned, and you just loved seeing him so salty.
“You owe me a milkshake, sucker!” You beamed and Dean just rolled his eyes.
From the other end of the room, Sam just snorted, shaking his head to himself.
concept: I run a little coffee shop in the city. It’s hidden by the big buildings and a local hardware shop. The walls are painted pastel blue and one wall is white brick. Polaroids and old vinyls line the empty blue walls. On one side of the shop, a old couple sit, one drinks black coffee, the other drinks half & half. Across the room a high school student finishes reading Hamlet. At the bar sit two people who would’ve never talked and by the end of the night one slips the other a napkin with their number written in blue pen. The mason jar full of tips is half full of loonies and 5 dollar bills. The hair is messy, my feet hurt, and my soul is content.