Lunchtime-Reads

Happy #SyndullaSunday with an eversoslightly different photo!

Riverdale Imagine: The Game Part 2 (Reggie x Reader)

A/N: Had quite a few requests for Part 2. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave you guys hanging!!

Summary: After the reader discovers that Reggie only asked her out to win a bet, she is heartbroken and angry, promising herself that she would never talk to him again. However, she wasn’t expecting Reggie to try and explain himself the following day at school.

Approx. 1250 words

Part One Here

“Can I kill him now?”

I raised my eyes lazily as Archie stormed into my bedroom, a mixture of anger and concern showing on his face. He had always viewed me as his little sister rather than his twin, perhaps it had something to do with how much taller than me he was, and therefore in his eyes I needed protecting from everything. I smiled weakly, patting the space on the bed next to me to encourage him to join, and shook my head slowly. After he had climbed into bed beside me and put a reassuring arm around my shoulder, just as he had always done when I was upset, I leant into him and sighed.

“To be honest Arch, I think Ronnie has beaten you to it.” I joked.

“I sure do love that girl!” he laughed. Archie and Veronica had been together for a few months now and – although it was weird initially since she is my best friend – I now idolised them as a total power couple, Veronica held all the power of course. “You liked him though, right?” he asked sympathetically.

“Yes” I whispered. “I never thought I would, but I liked him very much. But, now he has shown me his true colours and it turns out that the person I liked never existed. The boy that I liked wasn’t real; he was just a player in a game, trying to win a bet with his friends.” I said bitterly. Archie nodded and rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

“Well, I have something that might cheer you up…” he began. Just then there was a knock on the door and Veronica peeped into the room, holding a box of cupcakes.

____________________________

By the following morning, after I had spent all night spilling my heart out to Veronica and eating my favourite red-velvet cupcakes that my best friend always ordered from New York when I was upset, I had decided that I was done with Reggie Mantle, he wasn’t worth my tears after all. I was sitting in the student lounge during lunchtime, reading a new book while my friends – Veronica, Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Kevin – chatted contentedly around me, when someone approached our table. I wasn’t even going to look and see who it was, nobody ever came looking for me, when I heard two chairs hastily scrape back as two people rose quickly to their feet. I raised my head to see what was going on and to my absolute horror; Veronica and Archie were standing in front of Reggie who was clearly trying to get my attention.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you Mantle. When is that message going to sink into your stupid head?” Veronica spat maliciously.

“Why don’t you let Y/N decide that for herself, Veronica?” Reggie shot back in irritation as he tried to step past her.

“I know, let’s bet on it. You’re good at that” she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him questioningly.

“That’s not what happened” he hissed at her, “I’m trying to explain myself to her.”

“She doesn’t want to hear it Reggie, back off” Archie warned as he took a step forwards and put a hand on Reggie shoulder, urging him to leave. Reggie cursed loudly and kicked a soda can that was lying on the floor before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I bit my lip as I watched him leave, he was clearly upset and that pained me, but I reminded myself of what he had done and returned my attention back to my novel, avoiding the sympathetic glances of my friends.

For the rest of the day I had tried to forget the incident in the student lounge, but I couldn’t. The expression of hurt on Reggie’s face in the split-second that we made eye-contact before he left the room haunted me like a recurring dream as I left class and headed home at the end of the day. I wondered why he had been so upset. If going out with me had just been a game all along then surely he had won, why was he still trying to talk to me? I sighed, cursing my own weak-mindedness as I remembered that I had promised myself that morning that I was done with him. At that moment my phone made its familiar text-sound.

RM: Meet me at Pop’s now? I needed to talk to you. Please?

I clenched my jaw in annoyance as my heart fluttered unintentionally at the sight of his name on my screen. Why couldn’t I just hate him? It would make my life so much easier. I sighed again and I typed out my reply.

Fine. But you’re buying.

____________________________

Ten minutes later, I was sitting opposite Reggie in my usual booth at Pop’s. I watched, scowling and with my arms crossed, as he tentatively pushed a chocolate milkshake towards me like I was a wild animal that might attack him at any moment.

“You have until I finish this milkshake to give me an explanation as to why you screwed me over” I announced bluntly. He nodded.

“The first time I asked you out, after the football game last month, it was for a bet. Chuck and I made a deal that whoever scored the most points during the game got to ask you out on a date, and I won” he began.

“How delightful for me” I muttered. “I’m glad I refused.”

“That’s just it Y/N! I never expected you to actually turn me down, that doesn’t really happen to me” he said, somewhat excitedly.

“This isn’t really helping you case Reggie” I said, rolling my eyes which made him chuckle.

“You have never made me work harder for a date in my life! That’s why I began to like you, because I had to know you better in order for you to actually accept my offer. By the time you finally agreed to go out with me I was so excited, I never thought you would actually say yes, and I had completely forgotten about the bet with Chuck until he announced it in the student lounge the following morning” he pleaded, looking up at me with his dark eyes, making my heart melt. I bit my lip and looked down at my now-empty milkshake glass.

“You really hurt my feelings, Reg” I whispered, refusing to return his gaze.

“I know, and I’m so sorry Y/N. Please can you give me another chance?” he begged. I smiled slowly and nodded, watching his eyes light up. He jumped around to my side of the booth and slid in beside me, pulling me swiftly into his lap and hugging me tightly as he softly kissed my shoulder where my skin was exposed.

“I have one condition Mantle” I warned, causing him to pull away from me slightly as he nodded.

“Of course Y/N, anything!”

“I want another milkshake” I announced with mock seriousness, making Reggie chuckle. He leant towards me and kissed me sweetly on the mouth, he tasted of the vanilla milkshake that he had been drinking and I smiled into the kiss. Just at that moment the bell on the door chimed as two people walked into the diner, it was Veronica and Archie. Reggie shrank down into the safety of our booth and pulled me down with him in an attempt to hide.

“Oh god” he muttered, “Can I buy you that milkshake tomorrow instead?”

TAGLIST: @kelly27crickett @cjhorseback @rory-is-in-ravenclaw @littlefearsdoodles @happyyjensen @otaku-fangirlse

Mind Monster || Peter Maximoff

Prompt - Y/N is a mutant with a super powerful mutation who started out using it for evil purposes but now refuses to use it no matter what, she isolates herself from everyone at the school and Peter decides to talk to her not knowing what her mutation is. She can’t control it whatsoever so she accidentally uses it on him, but it gets fluffy at the end.

Warning - hella angst, self-hatred, mention of suicide, Peter being a cute little shit, anger issues, mutant reader, human bashing.

Reader’s Powers - mind control with absolutely no limitations. 

A/N: this might trigger some people so like if you’re sensitive to the stuff listed in the warning (including peter being a cute little shit) I suggest you read with caution. 

Originally posted by despairingfever

The minds of humans although very complex are also as impressionable as the mind of a regular child. Whether they realized it or not, they were daft. They were the bane of earth’s existence, and the mutants knew it. We experienced it. They outcast us, they ridiculed us, they bashed us, and for what? We were better than them. 

I weep for the hapless mutants born into a human family, they deserved better. They deserved better than a wretched human. 

My hatred for humans has been augmenting since that fateful day when my own flesh and blood thought me as nothing more than a disgusting mutant. I could still hear their ill-intentioned words echo in my head, their insults drilled into my self-esteem. They hated me for something that was their fault. They did this to me. 

They made me into the monster that I know I am. 

With one word, every mind in the world could be at my mercy. Everyday, wicked thoughts invaded the privacy of my own mind. They made me want to prove to them that I was that monster that they made me into. 

My parents had forced me to leave our small hometown, for months I was on the street. Begging for food, sleeping in alleys, but when it was time to brave a harsh winter I couldn’t take it. I manipulated my way into the houses of the rich, stealing their luxuries and taking them for myself. I did this for so long that it became habit. 

But I was never actually in control of my ability, it took control of me. Funny how that works, huh?

I got so obsessed with making people do my bidding, I became lazy, I became a monster. I had developed an intense anger problem that could only be cured with the use of my power. The anger got so detrimental that I made a person take their life for my own selfish reasons. 

From that point on, I made sure never to use my powers again. 

Eventually, Charles Xavier found me back on the streets knowing every bad thing I’d done. I thought he’d turn me in, but instead he took me in. He told me that he had a school for young mutants like myself, that he’d help me control this power instead of it controlling me. 

And he tried, but I was unwilling to use it on anyone, even if it meant finally being able to control it. I’d learned my morals, I believed in free will. 

My refusal of my powers only made my anger worsen to the point where I just shut everyone out, because if I wasn’t around anyone I couldn’t hurt them. 

I’ll admit that I’ve thought about making it easier for the professor and just take my own life, ever since I’ve been here the professor’s life has gotten increasingly more difficult. I just wanted to help him.

There had been a day when I got so furious at him that I almost made him stab a pen into his eye, I could’ve made him blind as well as paralyzed but I stopped myself. The realization of how much I cared for that man came flooding back to me, and I stopped. 

That was the only time in my entire life where I had been able to stop myself, yet I still detested my very being and nothing could change that. 

I sat up against a tree in the backyard by myself, it was lunchtime and I was reading a book under the comfortable shade of a large tree that towered above me. The book was on the principles of neural science and not only was it ironic, it interested me. 

I read peacefully as well as lonesome when a gust of wind blows my hair to the side. I look up from my book to see the quirky silver haired boy that everyone knew as, Peter. 

“Hey!” His tone was enthusiastic and it confused me. 

I didn’t say anything, I just looked back down at my book hoping he would leave.

“What’s your name? I’m Peter. I’ve seen you around a lot and you never say anything, I also noticed that you only talk to the professor, why’s that?” He spoke fast, like a young child after ingesting sugar. 

I could feel the familiar feeling of annoyance building, and it skyrocketed when he kept talking. 

“I don’t really know your name, so I call you the ‘cute mysterious girl’, do you mind tellin’ me your name? I’d really appreciate it. If you can’t it’s fine, but I’d really like to talk about your power, what is it? Am I annoying you?” His voice although soothing to my heart was grating to my anger. 

My jaw clenched and I pressed my lips together to prevent me uttering any words. 

“You’re not gonna talk to me, are ya?”

I wanted to answer him politely, but what I dreaded the most finally happened. My mouth opened but instead of answering him, my power took over and I ordered him. 

“Don’t speak.” 

My voice had lowered a few octaves and my words echoed as they left my lips, his mouth moved but no sounds were heard from him. His fingers gripped at his throat, not believing that I had just taken his voice from him. 

Realizing what I had just done, I gasped. 

“No…” I whispered to myself, but he heard me. 

A small tear pricked from my eye and fell slowly down my cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, he tried to ask me to reverse it but to no avail. 

“I-I don’t know how, I’m sorry,” more tears had fallen.

He was only trying to be nice to me and I fucked it up, he was even kind of cute. I wiped my tears and gently placed my hands on his soft cheeks. 

“The professor. He’ll know how to fix you.” 

He nods and lifts me up bridal style before whisking me away inside the mansion to the professor’s office. 

He didn’t bother knocking and just barged in, setting me down next to him. The professor sat behind his desk grading papers when he sees us. 

“Peter, we’ve talked about this. Please knock before you enter -” he stopped mid sentence when he sees that I’ve been crying and that Peter isn’t talking like I assume he normally is. 

“Y/N, Peter, what’s going on?” He asks us. 

“I’m so sorry professor, but I accidentally ordered him not to speak and now he can’t. Can you fix him?” I rushed out my words hoping that he wouldn’t be upset with me. 

He looked at Peter and didn’t say anything, so he was reading his mind. 

“Y/N, this is why you should let Hank and I help you control this, if not things like this will keep happening. You can’t just shut everything out,” he says softly, my eyes turn to look down at my sneakers. 

“I’ll fix Peter but Y/N, please let us help you.”

I look up at him, the only man I considered as a father figure. His pleading eyes told me how much he cared about me, I knew he didn’t like whenever I refused his or Hank’s help but it was for their own protection. 

I turn to look at Peter, he kept trying to talk but he didn’t know the extent of my abilities, no matter how hard he tried it’d never work. He was the only student that has actually tried to talk to me since I’ve been here, I admired the gesture greatly despite me getting angry at him. 

“I’ll do it.” 

They both sent me a warm smile. The professor wheeled his chair in front of Peter and made him kneel down, he placed his hands on Peter’s head given that it would take a lot of energy to undo something that I did. 

It took a few minutes but he finally managed to undo what I did to Peter’s voice. Peter opened his mouth and his voice finally came out, making me sigh a very much needed breath of relief.

I thanked the professor when suddenly Hank walked in. 

“Charles, do you know where-, oh nevermind she’s here,” he says looking at me, he held something in his hands. A metal contraption. 

“I made Y/N something that would regulate her powers to whenever she wanted to use them until she learns to control them,” he holds up the contraption for me to see. 

It looked like it went around my head, kind of like a high-tech metal headband.

“Do you want to try it?” He asks me, holding the headband out.

I nodded and he shuffled over to place it on my head, he turned it on and I felt a tingle in my brain. I then turn to Peter. 

“Jump up and down,” I order but when he doesn’t move, I squeal in delight. 

“Thank you, Hank! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I wrapped my arms tightly around his lanky waist, he awkwardly hugged me back. 

“You’re welcome.”

Peter and I rush out of the office, giggling for no particular reason other than I could finally talk to him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about me taking your voice, I get really angry sometimes and can’t really control my -” 

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m totally over it.”

“Can we start over? I actually really appreciated you coming up to talk to me,” I ask him, a smile etches its way onto his cute face. 

“Totally. I’m Peter.” He holds his hand out to me, I grin and shake it. 

“I’m Y/N.”


A/N: guys omg this was actually so cute, and I’m really proud of it so I hoped you liked it.

Please Swifties: I desperately need your help to send this letter...

Taylor,

I know you probably get thousands upon thousands of messages and letters a day, but if you have time, it would mean the world to me if you could read this when you come back to Tumblr. Even if you don’t see this, if you don’t respond, at least I know these words are out there, and maybe these words will resonate with others. But first, I think I should introduce myself. My name is Sarah, I am eighteen, I study English Literature and I want to go into academia researching medieval literature. I’m oh so slightly introverted and shy (and wheat intolerant). I love the countryside and old things (especially Polaroid cameras and vinyl records- I don’t have one though), I love to bake, I love to read, I love to learn, I love to write. I’ve been listening to your music since I was ten years old, ever since I heard Love Story on the radio on the way to school. I didn’t stop dancing around to ‘Fearless’ for 6 months straight after my parents bought it for me. Then I Went out and bought ‘Taylor Swift’. Thus begins this magical saga.

'Fearless’ was the first time I realised the truth in your words “people haven’t always been there for me, but music has”, because I had a very odd passion for a ten year old, I loved to read and learn, I loved to be alone and write poetry. And people thought it was weird, I remember listening to your music, your first two albums and I saw myself. I saw my own insecurities and desires in 'Taylor Swift’, I felt like you knew what it was like to stand on your own, to take the high road. I saw my own romantic fairytales in 'Fearless’, I knew all too well the lessons learned. I remember when it felt like I was alone, I could feel close to you, like you could understand my ten year old self. I felt like you had rummaged through my journal and written them into 3:30 minute songs, The Outside, Tied Together With A Smile, Love Story, Breathe, White Horse, Change. Those are the songs I will always go back to when I’m having a tough day. I still remember how when I was twelve, I realised I didn’t fit in, even more so now that 'cliques’ were becoming a thing, I didn’t get invited to parties, I didn’t even have a clique. I would read at lunchtimes, I was ostracized because I didn’t like what everyone else wanted to love… And 'Speak Now’ showed up just in time. For the next one and a half years it was all I listened to, YOU were all I listened to. You gave me your shoulder to weather the storm. You were on my side, fighting my corner when I felt no one else was.

I remember when I was fifteen, the friends I had made at the start of upper school had drifted away from me, I had lost my grandfather to cancer. I felt so lost and so heartbroken, and like some miracle, there was 'Red’. And I remember I played that album for months when it came out, for what seemed like years when I fifteen. I would always start at 'All Too Well’. It’s one of my favorite songs…. I don’t know who got me out of that, maybe it was you, my family, I think it’s a bit of both. Let’s just say you both helped build the rungs to the ladder.

When I was 16, my relationship with my biological father (our relationship has always been strained because… nevermind) it wavered on the verge of falling apart, little did I know that two years later I would make the decision to part ways with him. I thought my life was over, I thought that I wasn’t strong enough to get through it and just like that, you did it again. 1989 came out. It was summer. It was strong. You had come alive, into your own. It showed me what I could be, if I let go of what I couldn’t change, what I could be if I believed in myself. Rather than my mirror, you became the person I wanted to be. You quite literally saved my life. 'Clean’ saved my life. 'I Know Places’ saved my life. Every. Single. Song. On. That. Album. Saved me. And I can never thank you enough for that. I remember going to see you in Hyde Park with my best friend and it was one of the best nights of my life. I came into my own. I came away with a confidence I hadn’t felt in months. I remember listening to that most magical clean speech with the desire to fight harder than ever.

I feel like you are a constant in my life now. I feel like, every time you release an album… It’s always in the nick of time to save me from disaster, or to help me through something, or to make me wanna get up and dance. And I will never stop thanking you for that. You have inspired me to love myself. To be confident. You have helped me become patient with others. You have made me stronger because you believed in me. You believed in me the way my Mum and Step-Dad do. You love me the way I love my three little sisters. You have embedded yourself into my life, and I haven’t even met you, in truth I don’t actually know that much about you… But I feel like I do. Is that weird? Thank you Taylor, for being here all this time. Thank you endlessly. I will never stop thanking you. And I will never stop loving you, and if I ever get the honor of meeting you one day I will tell you this myself. And yes I shall probably cry doing it.

I hope to God you hear this. I hope, through whatever means, that this finds you, it’s like a message in a bottle, right?

Love, Sarah :)

I was looking through my Higher Photography folio when I found this picture. I then realised that an essay from my English folio would go well with it. Please bear in mind that I am a shite writer and that I’ve not showed this to anyone except from my teacher and the person who marked it.

Brotherhood

I’ve always been a brother. But, for the majority of my life I just didn’t realise it. Until a few years ago I was under the illusion that I was a girl but in 2014 I realised that I am transgender. Since then I’ve become recognised for who I really am: a boy, a son, a brother. One of the strongest relationships I have gained from coming out is the relationship with my twin brother, Ben.
I was born a twin (not identical, of course, but everyone still asks). My brother and I lived our early years close, but forced together. We travelled in the same buggy and slept in the same cot. I obviously cannot remember this time but something makes me believe that we knew we were brothers then. It might be my mother’s tales of us fighting almost since birth. Or my grandmother’s over told story of one of our first complete conversations together being an argument. Nevertheless, at the end of the day we always ended up together, fighting or not. They always say twins have a connection and I do have a strong, unique bond with my brother which has always been and hopefully always will be present in my life.
As we grew older our bond became stronger as we realised who we were to each other. Even though we are twins he is still a minute older, so he is my big brother. Ben naturally took this role, speaking for me in the loud and obnoxious way that he still does. He had an instinct to protect his younger brother which every big brother has. However, there were also times when we’d fight relentlessly. At 5 years old I was pushed under a bus by my big brother, but was pulled back out by him so it’s difficult to say if he was the hero or villain of the situation. No matter how much we fought we always made up with each other. Not always with words. Sometimes one would throw a ball at the other and start a game. Other times we just had to fight it out, physically, but it always ended in laughter, just like now.
Once we started to drift apart I desperately tried to keep the relationship going. We were split up when we started school which was difficult for me but not so much for Ben. He’s the kind of person who copes well in every situation whereas, I am the complete opposite and, at this point in my life, my brother was all I knew and I didn’t really want to have anyone else in my life. For the first few years of our life I’d say we were best friends but, then again, we didn’t really know anyone else. I relied on seeing him almost every waking moment and being apart from him for the majority of the school day was extremely difficult. My brother recognised this and spent his lunchtime with me reading a dinosaur book. Neither of us had a particular interest in dinosaurs but we did have a particular interest in being together.
As I started getting older I was forced into the female role, despite being a boy. I didn’t want to be a sister because I knew I was a brother. But I had to go along with it because I hadn’t yet understood that I am transgender. I ended up almost breaking our relationship off completely. I wouldn’t talk to Ben because I was too jealous, he had everything I wanted and should have had and it didn’t seem fair. I locked myself in my room and after numerous attempts of trying to coax me out my brother gave up. However, we still managed to have some brotherly moments together. We were forced by my mother to walk to school together, which was more of an attempt to rekindle our relationship than for safety. Occasionally my brother would see a yellow car driving past and would punch my arm shouting “yellow car!”. I’d always try to hit him back but Ben would mock me for my lack of strength and tell me “It doesn’t hurt, it tickles”. This comment always shook me with laughter, god knows why. Ben always said I have a weird sense of humour but, if anything, he was the one who influenced it most. I even ended up doing stand-up, my brother being the main victim of my jokes. He told me I was rubbish but I knew he was proud of me after he told all his friends I had done stand-up, and with Frankie Boyle, although that was a bit of an exaggeration.
Ben realised that something was wrong but, like me, didn’t know what it was. My mum tells me that he’d ask why I was acting “strange” and she couldn’t answer either. No one could. The night before our sixteenth birthday I had already realised for I few months that I am transgender. My brother had his friends over who were down stairs being rowdy, like boys do. I sat in my room alone surrounded by feminine clothes, ornaments and toys. I decided then that I couldn’t live my life pretending I was a girl any longer. I had to tell everyone that I was a boy. When midnight came my brother’s friends counted down until his birthday. I whispered along in my room. I was joining in with the boys. I was one of the boys. I smiled to myself knowing I was about to make the right decision.
That night I came out to my mum. She came into my room to wish me a happy birthday and I didn’t say any anything back. She asked me “What’s wrong?” and I asked her to sit down. Through tears I said to her “I don’t want to be a girl, I’m a boy”. She smiled and told me “That’s okay,” and then asked, “Why are you crying?”. When my mum was pregnant with my brother and I she desperately wanted to have two girls. She thought she had a boy and a girl but it turns out she has two boys. I said to her “you wanted to have two girls but now you have none”. She laughed and told me she didn’t want that anymore, she wanted two boys and she wanted me to be happy.
Soon after that night I decided it was time to come out to my brother. My mum told him in the car on the way to his football practice. He didn’t say anything except from “I don’t care”. This wasn’t a simple dismissal. I know what he meant. He doesn’t care that I am  transgender because I will always be his brother.
When I came out it seemed to be a turning point in my relationship with my brother. It was if we were five again. Our relationship went back to normal because we both knew where we stood. I was Ben’s brother and he was mine.
It didn’t happen all of a sudden, it took time. Slowly he started to call me Adrian and use he/him pronouns. That year at Christmas he gave me one present: a card with a dog on the front and written on the top “To my Brother”. I keep the card in a box under my bed. I don’t take it out to remind myself of my accepting brother because I don’t have to. He does things everyday to show me that I am his brother and always will be. The day I went shopping to get men’s clothes for the first time my brother came with me. He helped me picked clothes and when I ran away from the changing room in fear at last minute he said it was okay and that it didn’t make me any less of a man. Sometimes he’ll tell me to come out into the garden and then start a game of American Football even though neither of us know how to play. We just run at each other and try to grab the ball. It often ends with us in a pile on the floor, laughing and covered in dirt, like when we were younger. When I refused to go into the men’s bathroom because “I don’t look like one” my brother told me “You are one so who cares? And, for the record, you do”. I’m sure he doesn’t realise how much these acts mean to me, otherwise he wouldn’t do them, just to annoy me.
I grew up looking up to my brother and I think I always will. We have our fights and arguments- just as we always have- but that’s what makes us brothers. Our bond is even stronger than ever and I hope that as we grow, it’ll grow with us. Some part of me wishes my brother knew how much he means again but, if he did know, I’m sure he’d make fun of me for being “soppy”. What he does know is that we have a brotherhood and a twin connection that never can be and never will be broken.

anonymous asked:

Ok but for their first meeting, imagine Ashley sitting alone at a lunchtable (Chris has a different lunchtime) she's reading Poe or something spooky for English class. Matt is walking by with some football friends, but notices her sitting there. He plops down at her table and starts eating. Ashley is surprised, but appreciates the silent company. Near the end of lunchtime, they're getting up to leave, and Matt just goes "wanna chill at lunch tomorrow too?" And so the friendship began :)

I’m gonna get cavities this is perfect

Mute

I got prompted to write a Mute!Dan high school AU fic, and I said I wasn’t going to write a proper one because there’s a few good one’s already. I did, however, write this daft little drabble that doesn’t make a lot of sense but I thought I should post it anyway. Thank you for the prompt <3

Keep reading

@rcdleather

Killian had been sitting at her table for a week now, and she still refused to acknowledge his presence with a word. He had hoped that him joining her would help the blonde come out of her shell, she always was quiet, and even if they had shared classes for the last three years of high school, he hadn’t ever spoken a word to the ever quiet Emma Swan. Still, he wanted her to be the first to say something, he didn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable.

When senior year started, and he saw her yet again take a seat by herself at one of the tables in the corner, he had told his really only close friend that he wanted to befriend her. She always looked so lonely, nobody should feel that way. Belle of course hadn’t mind, the bookworm usually spent lunchtime reading anyway.

So here he was, his own book in hand as he pretended to read whatever story Belle had recommended to him that week, as he tried to not look at the blonde across from him. One whole week, and not even one word. He couldn’t take it anymore, and with a sudden release of a breath he places his book down before smiling over at her.  Okay. I have to know, am I so offensive looking that you won’t even acknowledge my presence? I’ll have you know I’ve heard quite differently from many lasses. 

Image: The first edition of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and the original hero Golden Egg from the film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on display in Los Angeles. (Frederic J. Brown/AFP/Getty Images)

Here’s a lunchtime reading suggestion: Over the weekend, The Guardian posted a previously unpublished chapter of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which turns 50 this month. It’s pretty short and even comes with a drawing by Sir Quentin Blake, who’s illustrated bunches of Dahl’s books.

 According to The Guardian:

In the chapter Charlie Bucket – accompanied by his mother, not his sprightly grandfather – and the other children are led into the Vanilla Fudge Room, where they face the sinister prospect of the Pounding and Cutting Room. …

The chapter reveals the original larger cast of characters, and their fates, as well as the original names of some of those who survived into later drafts. Dahl originally intended to send Charlie into the chocolate factory with eight other children, but the number was slimmed down to four.

The paper reports that the chapter was cut because it was “deemed too wild, subversive and insufficiently moral for the tender minds of British children.”

2

This is the Rory Gilmore I hope I’ll always remember. The shy, smart, stubborn girl who relished learning and standing apart from the crowd. The one who promised she’d never eat clams again either. Who never let boys get in the way of her passions, and who didn’t care how “weird” she came off to them. Who grew up in a garden shed, held a funeral for a caterpillar and sat outside with a peanut butter sandwich waiting for fairies. Who liked to spend lunchtime reading and listening to her walkman. Who liked clothes and shopping, but didn’t care about makeup or fashion.

She was cautious and kind. She was flawed, but she could recognize it. She was humble and down-to-earth; witty, sarcastic and awkward. She cared deeply about everyone, and was always looking for the good in people. She didn’t give up, even when she floundered (sometimes quite badly).

This is the Rory Gilmore I’ll always look up to, and strive to be more like.

anonymous asked:

Headcanons, anything and everything about Mayuzumi?

Just cos I love him.

GENERAL:

  • He actually falls asleep a lot during lunchtime thanks to reading. He might end up skipping classes when he’s so engrossed in his novel.
  • Despite his quiet nature, his parents are actually very happy and enthusiastic. They’re the type to welcome even strangers into the house with no questions. Mayuzumi ends up as the parent who has to filter through the guests.
  • Mayuzumi actually has no close friends in class since he doesn’t feel attached to them at all. That’s why he likes talking to Akashi who’s actually mature enough and who made basketball fun for him. He’s forever in his debt.

RELATIONSHIP:

  • His hair is surprisingly silky soft so you absolutely love playing with it. He gets so annoyed when you braid it at times. But he likes it when you run your fingers through it because it’s relaxing.
  • You both have this relationship where you don’t really have to say anything but you can share everything just through small gestures and eye contact. People found it a bit odd but also endearing.
  • Rainy days are the best for him because he gets to spend the day indoors, just cuddling or reading with you. He doesn’t like to do things that take too much effort so staying in is a good way to spend the day.
Gail and Holly

This is a little something based off a prompt by doctor-of-asskicking and I legit hope she’s okay with how this went. I used a little artistic license and let myself run away with it a bit, and there’s more if anyone wants it continued just let me know.
Ugh I hope you all enjoy

Life’s Uncertainties

She hates the hustle and bustle of the busy diners on Main and 5th, so she tries to avoid the lunch hour rush by never eating out. But she hasn’t eaten since last night, and the left over Chinese had been from the night before and had left her far from satisfied.

With Steve away and her having the apartment to herself she’s been reluctant to head back over to Peck Manor for meals, despite not being as functional in the kitchen as she would like to be.

Frowning at her stomach as it protests her dislike of regular mealtimes she pulled her jacket tighter and scrunched her nose, her mind pleading with the hunger pains that are causing her stomach to cramp so hard she’s having to rock back and forth in an attempt to soothe away the pain. Her body steadies for a moment and she lets out a sigh of relief, reaching into her pocket she pulls out her phone and notices with sadness that he hasn’t text yet. He promised he would get in touch as soon as he could and so she sighs knowing there is an explanation. She knows that barracks is a busy place and he will be up to his elbows in shiny shoes and cot inspections and so she forgives his inability to stick to a time schedule. She slips her phone back between the denim snug of her jeans pocket but not before glancing at the time, just as another shooting pain ripples through her midsection followed by a growl so loud she almost blushes in embarrassment before she remembers she’s alone.

Standing up from the park bench, she unravels the tangled wire from her pocket, plugging it into her phone, swiping with her thumb and pressing play. A soft smile gracing her face as a the melody fills her ears, a soft beat and whispered lyrics of a song that reminds her of her brother. She began to walk, unconsciously her legs had taken her three blocks before she realised where she was, the song switching as she come to a halt outside a small mom and pop restaurant. The lime and lemon striped awning hanging over a fogged up window that claimed in gold letters that ‘Baileys Boys’ sold 'the best milkshakes in town’. Her stomach inched her feet closer to the door, her cold hands pulling the door open and her eyes doing a quick sweep of the near empty tables before she stepped inside. She removed her headphones and swiped her thumb on the screen to silence them as an older woman approached her.

“Table for one?” She asked assumingly, and it took all Gail had to bite back a snarky comment.

“Yeah, it’s just me…” She smiled through gritted teeth, her hands clenching at her sides as the idle woman showed her to a booth in the corner. Sliding along the red faux leather seat she glanced at the Menu as the lady declared she would allow her time to think about what she wanted.

When she was sure the woman was out of earshot she snorted and muttered a profanity that helped ease the perpetual ache that her stomach had adopted.

“My mommy says cussing is bad…” A voice informed her, and she scanned the room for the owner but the tables close by were empty.

Shrugging it off she continued to read the lunchtime options her stomach grumbling as she decided on a spinach and mozzarella panini and some fries, and a banana milkshake. Waiting for the lady to approach her she settled back in her seat and slipped her coat off her shoulders. Her stomach growling so loud in protest she found herself thankful no one was around.

“My mommy says when your body makes that sound, You’re either really hungry or you have a lion in your tummy!” The voice came back, giggling this time, and Gails gaze shot upwards, a pair of bright green eyes watched her from behind the large seat opposite her.

“It’s a lion …” She joked, watching the boys eyes widen as she leaned in a little closer and whispered “… Sometimes a tiger, sometimes a cheetah, But today, definitely a lion”

“You’re funny” the boy giggled, lifting his head up further to reveal a gappy grin and a smattering of freckles across his nose and dimple adorned cheeks.

“And you’re adorable, but didn’t your mommy ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” She asked, watching as she boys mouth screwed up in a pensive pout, his head tilting slightly as he pondered this question.

“What’s your name?” He asked, the slightest hint of a lisp lingered between the space where his two front teeth had once been.

“I’m Gail…” she smiled, her eyes taking in his appearance. Sun kissed olive skin, sea green eyes and tousled shoulder length brown hair, she made up her mind that his parents were some sort of new age hippies.

“I’m Seth Alexander Stewart, and I’m nearly 6 years old” he stated informatively. Watching as a smile appeared on Gail’s face “… Now we’re not strangers” he finished, the dimples becoming more defined in his cheeks as he grinned at her knowingly.

“You’re smart too…” Gail stated, her eyebrows raised ’…. where’s your mom and dad?“ She asked, scanning the room, a young woman three tables over fussed over a toddler in a pram. A man bent over the counter trying to get the waitresses attention, his ripped jeans , leather jacket and long silver hair scooped back into a braid told her he wasn’t who she was looking for.

"My mommy is over there ordering me another milkshake,” he informed her, lifting his hand and pointing to where a tall woman stood, her dark hair splayed over her shoulders and down her back hiding her face from view as she nodded along to the light sounds emitting from the radio in the kitchen “… I don’t have a dad, I used to have a Katie, but she left… ” his smile fell from his face, snatching away his dimple and replacing it with a sadness that pulled Gail’s attention back to him.

I’m sorry to hear that…“ She said softly, her mouth bunching up the in corner, keeping her silent as he continued.

"It’s okay, she used to make my mommy sad sometimes, and now My mommy says…”

“Seth… ” he was interrupted. Gail noticed his eyes widen with the notion that he was about to get into trouble and she watched him bite down on his bottom lip and stare at the woman who had approached the table, “…Seth what have i told you about interrupting people when they’re eating…I’m so sorry” she said, turning to Gail and shaking her head apologetically.

Gail felt her jaw drop, the woman in front of her was tired, the thick rimmed glasses she wore couldn’t hide the light purple shadows under her eyes, and the corners of her lips dropped like she hadn’t smiled in a while, but she was beautiful.

Breathtakingly stunning.

Gail waved her hand and shook her head in dismissal, she hadn’t actually minded the interaction, she smiled as she heard the boys protest.

“But mommy, Gail doesn’t have her food yet, so I wasn’t interrupting. And she’s not a stranger, she’s my friend, and she has a lion in her tummy” he rambled, his fingers still clinging to the back of the chair and his eyes hopefully flickering back between Gail and his mother, she guessed in the hopes that his explanation would be the end of her anger.

“Seth…” The woman warned, and without any feather instructions his fingers unclenched and he turned around in his seat, dropping down to a sitting position and propping his elbows on the tabletop, dropping his head into his hands.

“But i was going to share my fries with her, mommy”

Gail felt something tighten in her chest at the boys admission, a small smile found it’s way to her face as she stared up at the woman who was still watching her. Lifting a hand in front of her she shook her head as she addressed his mother.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make him upset”

“You didn’t, it’s okay it’s just been a rough couple of weeks who am I kidding, it’s been a rough couple of years,” she laughed softly and Gail felt her stomach flip, she clutched at herself thankful it was a flip and not a growl “…I just… Would you like to join us?” The woman asked gesturing to the booth in front of her while catching her bottom lip between her top one. Gail mirrored the image a little unnerved by the hold the dark haired woman had over her already.

“Oh that’s okay, I um…”

A small head peered around the side of the booth, and she knew before he spoke that she was going to be persuaded quite easily. “Please Gail, you can share my fries with me.. you can even sit with me…”

“Seth, Gail might be busy sweetheart, she may be meeting someone for lunch. Let’s leave her alone okay buddy” his mother said softly, the tension her voice held before has disappeared and instead was replaced by a loving tone that told Gail all she needed to know.

“You know what… I’d really love to join you both” she smiled, pushing her way along the chair and slipping out from her booth, heading towards theirs she thought for a moment about which seat to choose and she slipped in comfortably next to Seth who was patting the red leather with his hand.

“You’re sure?”

“Who could say no to that …” She pointed to the smile on Seth’s face, his gappy grin melting her heart.

“You’d be surprised… I’m sorry, he is at that stage where he’s very demanding and he’s insistent, and he’s so sociable”

“And I’m adorable… Gail said so” he quipped, pushing his plate of fries towards the blonde, and shaking his head happily when Gail reached and took one.

“He really is adorable… And clearly modest” Gail stated, watching the corners of the dark haired woman’s mouth lift slightly. The waitress approached slowly,

“Banana milkshake for you… And a Caesar salad for you…” She said, putting the drink in front of Seth and the plate of leafy greens in front of his mother “… Can I get you anything else?” She asked Pulling a pen from Behind her ear and a small notepad out of her apron pocket.

“I’ll have a banana milkshake also, please” Gail stated, swallowing the soft potato and reaching into the pocket of her jeans.

“I got it… Put it on my bill” Seth’s mom nodded, and watched as the older woman walked away.

“You didn’t have to do that…” Gail felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, sure she was a struggling artist, living in her brothers apartment while he was away in deployment, and sure she was often stuck eating leftovers from the nights before but she could definitely afford a milkshake.

“Seriously, it’s the least I can do, this may be the first meal I actually get to finish while it’s still edible… Thank you” her voice was warm and welcoming, and so Gail let out a small breath and sunk back in her seat.

“You’re welcome…” She said, her statement more of a question as she realised she didn’t know this woman’s name yet.

“Holly … My name is Holly”

Gail let the word linger for a moment before she whispered it softly, feeling it as it ghosted over her lips, her tongue peeking out just a little before she bit her bottom lip and nodded.

“Gail my fries are hot, can you cool them down for me?” He asked, as the older woman approached and placed another glass of yellow substance in front of them.

“How about you have some of your milkshake while we wait for them to cool down?” She suggested, pulling the tall glass towards herself, her fingers reaching for and tentatively unwrapping the straw from its paper casing, noticing the boys eyes on her she threw caution to the wind and brought the glass to her mouth, taking a small amount of the liquid between her lips but finding a considerable amount cooling the skin between her nose and smile. Putting the glass back on the table, and turning to face the young boy she was greeted with squeals of delight.

“You’re so silly!!!” He giggled, holding his stomach as he leaned his head on the table and laughed louder.

“Excuse me young sir, what exactly about me is 'silly?” She asked feigning innocence and when he lifted his head and another stream of giggles fell from his mouth she couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“You have a milk moustache, look mommy she has a yellow milk moustache”

“I think Gail is aware of that sweetie” she smiled softly, content with watching this interaction between her boy and this girl, woman… Beautiful woman. She shook her head, mouth open softly as she watched him bring his glass to his mouth and within seconds there were two bright yellow moustaches staring back at her.

“Mommy look I have one too” he laughed, wrapping an arm around Gail’s shoulders and pressing their heads together, like they were posing for a picture.

“You are a goofball” his mother declared, watching as they both scrunched their noses up and stated at each other before setting back to eating fries like nothing was wrong with the dripping liquid on their faces.

“Gail too?!”

She paused for a moment, watching bright blue eyes glance up at her and for a moment she felt the words pause on her tongue, and as they fell into the air before them she didn’t shift her gaze, instead she watched a small smile form on the blondes face as she nodded “Yeah sweetie… Gail’s a goofball too…”