admirable things

Bullet Journal Pages

Basic

  • Future planning
  • Index 
  • Yearly
  • Monthly
  • Daily
  • Weekly

Trackers

  • Weight
  • Exercise
  • Grade/assignment
  • Mood
  • Habit
  • Savings
  • Gratitude 
  • Blog stats
  • Water
  • Study
  • Car maintenance
  • Sleep
  • Period
  • Dreams
  • Weather

Lists

  • A-Z - Make a list from a-z of things that inspire you, you love, your favorite _____. Whatever you want!
  • Movies - Watched/to watch/favorites/review
  • TV shows - Watched/to watch/favorites/review
  • Books - Read/to read/favorites/review
  • Foods/recipies - What are your favorite foods? Favorite recipes? Any recipes you want to try?
  • Words - Favorite words, words that inspire you, words you love the meaning to.
  • Favorite blogs - Make a list of your favorite blogs. 
  • Places - Make a list of places you’ve been to/want to go to. For more creativity draw a map and color in these places!
  • Currently - What are you currently listening to, reading, watching, feeling, doing, eating, needing, wanting?
  • Things to try - Want to try some new restaurants, crafts, projects, etc?
  • Happy - Make a list of things that make you happy. 
  • Sad - Make a list of things that make you sad. Maybe add things that you do to feel better.
  • Firsts - First kiss, date, job, house, car, concert, vacation, thing you do in the morning, thing when you get home, teacher?
  • Rainy day - What are things you like to do on a rainy day? What do you eat/drink? How do you feel?
  • Bored - What are things you do when you’re bored? Ideas for the next time you’re bored?
  • Wants/needs - What are things you want? What are things you need?
  • Songs/artists - What are your favorite songs?
  • Bucket list - What are things you want to do before you die. 
  • Advice - What is your favorite advice you’ve given? Received? 
  • Relax - What are ways you relax?
  • Questions - What are questions you want to know the answer to?
  • Fears - What are your fears?
  • Funny - What are some funny things that have happened to you? What are things you find funny? 
  • Games - What are your favorite games? What are some games you want to play?
  • DIY projects - What DIY projects you want to try?
  • Playlists - Create some playlists for your moods. 
  • Colors - What are your favorite colors? Color schemes?
  • Smells - What are your favorite smells?
  • What I learned today - What is something you learned today? Maybe do this by month/week/day. 
  • Flowers/plants - What are your favorite flowers/plants? What’s their meaning? Draw doodles of them.
  • Admire - Who are people you admire?
  • Things you can’t leave the house without - Or a what’s in your bag list.
  • Drinks/beverages - What’s your favorite drink? Any drinks you want to try?
  • Childhood memories - What are some of your favorite childhood memories? Memories in general?
  • Stationery - What is your favorite stationery? Pens, notebooks, etc. 

I hope you all enjoy these prompts! I might add some if I think of more! X

2

me @ those haters who’re trying to smear super junior members

3

So this is love, so this is what makes life divine…

4

Admiral Konstantine, deploy your fleet to these coordinates

We will join you shortly

arcanehalo  asked:

I saw your recent answer to losing respect for anti-lgbt celebs. Do you really lose respect or do you lose admiration? Because they're different things, and I'd like to think it's the latter for you :<

I should have clarified! Anti-LGBTQ+ celebs lose respect AND admiration from me, if I admired them in the first place. A lack of respect for others begets a lack respect from me and from others.

Find someone who makes your heart race, and not only in the bed room.

Find someone who remembers the small things about you, like why you’re afraid of the ocean or why your anxiety gets so bad at night.

Find someone who gets the ways you work and doesn’t leave when you start acting like a little shit.

Find someone who talks to you and doesn’t just leave you in the dark when you’re feeling down.

Find someone who takes pictures of you all the time because they need something to look at when you’re gone.

Find someone who holds you while you sleep, even when they stay awake for hours.

Find someone who admires the smallest things about you, like your freckles or the way your voice changes with your mood.

Find someone who doesn’t let go, who is always there, who loves you for you, who doesn’t try to change the person you are deep down inside, but instead tries to bring it out more.

Find them, and please promise me you’ll never let them go.

—  Find them.
A white guy’s thoughts on “Get Out” and racism

This weekend, I went to see a horror movie. It got stuck in my head, and now I can’t stop thinking about it—but not for any of the reasons you might think.

The movie was Jordan Peele’s new hit Get Out, which has gotten rave reviews from critics—an incredible 99% on Rotten Tomatoes—and has a lot of people talking about its themes.

First of all, I should tell you that I hate horror movies. As a general rule, I stay far, far away from them, but after everything I’d read, I felt like this was an important film for me to see. This trailer might give you some inkling as to why:

Creepy, huh? You might know writer/director Jordan Peele as part of the comedy duo Key & Peele, known for smartly tackling societal issues through sketch comedy. Get Out is a horror movie, but it’s also a film about race in America, and it’s impressively multilayered.

I left the theater feeling deeply disturbed but glad this movie was made. I can’t say any more without revealing spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you don’t want to have the plot spoiled for you, stop reading now and come back later.

Seriously, this is your last chance before I give away what happens.

Okay, you were warned. Here we go.

Our protagonist is Chris Washington, a young black man who has been dating Rose Armitage, a young white woman, for the last four months. She wants him to meet her family, but he’s hesitant. She acknowledges that her dad can be a little awkward on the subject of race, but assures Chris that he means well.

After unnerving encounters with a deer (echoes of The Invitation) and a racist cop, Chris and Rose arrive at the Armitages’ estate. On the surface, the Armitages are very friendly, but the conversation (brilliantly scripted by Peele) includes a lot of the little, everyday, get-under-your-skin moments of racism that people of color have to contend with: Rose’s dad going on about how he voted for Obama, for instance, and asking how long “this thang” has been going on. Chris laughs it off to be polite, though he clearly feels uncomfortable.

There’s a fantastic moment here, by the way, when Rose’s dad offhandedly mentions that they had to close off the basement because of “black mold.” In the midst of the racially charged atmosphere of the conversation, it’s nearly impossible not to take this as a racial remark, and Chris certainly notices, but what could he possibly say about it? Black mold is a real thing; his girlfriend would surely think he was crazy and oversensitive if he said it sounded racist. Chris never reacts to the remark, but that one tiny moment is a reminder to the audience of a real problem people of color often face, when racism can’t be called out without being accused of “playing the race card” or seeing things that aren’t there. (Incidentally, it turns out that the basement is actually used for molding of a different sort.)

There are other reasons for Chris to be unsettled: The only other black people on the estate are two servants, Georgina and Walter (Rose’s dad says he knows how bad it looks, but that it’s not what it seems), and something is clearly “off” about them. Later, more white people show up—and one more black character, and he, too, feels “off.”

By the end of the film, we learn the horrible secret: Rose’s family is kidnapping and luring black people to their estate, where they’re being hypnotized and psychologically trapped inside themselves—Rose’s mom calls it “the sunken place”—so that old or disabled white people’s consciousnesses can be transplanted into their bodies. The white people are then able to move about, controlling their new black bodies, with the black person’s consciousness along for the ride as a mere “passenger.” In a shocking twist, it turns out that even apparently-sweet Rose is in on the plot, and Chris must fight her and the rest of her family to escape.

This isn’t a “white people are evil” film, although it may sound that way at first, but it is a film about racism. I know many of my friends of color will connect with this movie in a way I can’t, so I won’t try to say what I think they’ll get out of it. I do want to say how I connected with it, though, because I think what Jordan Peele has done here is really important for white audiences. 

If you look beyond the surface horror-movie plot, this film actually gives white people a tiny peek at the reality of racism—not the epithet-shouting neo-Nazi kind of racism that white people normally imagine when we hear “racism,” but the “Oh it’s so nice to meet you; I voted for Obama” kind of racism, the subtle othering that expects people of color to smile and get along and adopt white culture as their own whenever they’re around white people.

So many of the moments in Get Out are clearly intended to work on multiple levels. When Chris confronts Georgina about something being wrong and she smiles and says, “No, no no no no no,” with tears streaming down her cheeks, the symbolism is blatant. How often do people of color have to ignore the subtle indignities they face and hide their true emotions in order to avoid coming across as, for example, “the angry black woman/man”? How many times do they find themselves in social situations—even with their closest white friends!—where people make little comments tying them to an “exotic,” supposedly monolithic culture, where they have to respond with a smile and a laugh instead of telling people how stupid and offensive they’re being? 

I can’t tell you the number of these stories I’ve heard from my friends, and I’m quite sure that the stories I’ve heard are only a tiny fraction of the stories that could be told. So there’s something in that moment that speaks volumes about the experiences of people of color in America.

The same is true for so many other moments. The black characters Chris meets at the Armitages’ have all symbolically given up their identities and conformed to white culture; when Chris meets one character, he turns out to be going under a new name, with new clothes and new mannerisms; when Chris offers him a fist bump, he tries to shake Chris’s fist. Again, within the story, there’s an explanation for all this, but every moment here is also about assimilation and culture differences. 

For me as a white audience member, all of these moments did something remarkable: They showed me my own culture—a culture I’m often blissfully unaware of because it’s all around me—as something alien. They reminded me that I, too, have a culture, and that expecting everyone else to assimilate to my culture is just as much an erasing of their identities as it would be to expect me to assimilate to someone else’s culture.

And that’s a big part of what Get Out is about—the erasing of identities, and the power of racism to destroy people. I think it’s really significant that racism is portrayed here very differently from how it’s normally portrayed in movies written by white people. In most Hollywood movies, you know a character is racist because they shout racial epithets or make blatant statements about a certain race’s inferiority. That allows white audiences to say, “I would never do/say that, so I’m not racist!” We really don’t want to think we are.

But notice something important about Get Out’s treatment of racism: This is a film about the literal enslavement of black people—racism doesn’t get more extreme than that—and yet Peele doesn’t go for the obvious by having the white characters admit that they think black people are inferior; instead, they subjugate and dehumanize people by claiming to admire things about them. They turn them into fashion accessories. 

When Chris asks why only black people are being targeted for this procedure, the response is telling: It’s not (supposedly) because the white characters think African Americans are bad, but rather, because they like certain things about them and they want “a change” for themselves. They want to become black—it’s trendy, we’re told!—but without having had any of the actual life experiences or history of African Americans. White people need to see this: to experience the ways in which Chris is othered by people who tell him all the things they like about him—isn’t he strong? Look at those muscles! Does he play golf like Tiger Woods? And he must be well-endowed and have such sexual prowess, right, Rose?

The white people in the audience need to be reminded that just because you’re saying positive things about someone doesn’t mean you’re not being racist, that turning someone into an exotic “other” may not be the same as shouting an epithet, but it’s still taking away someone’s identity and treating them as a commodity.

The film is filled with these kinds of moments. When we realize that Rose’s white grandmother has inhabited the body of Georgina, the fact that she keeps touching her own hair and admiring herself in the mirror takes on a whole new level of significance. (White people, please don’t ask to touch your black friends’ hair.) When Chris connects with a dying deer on the side of the road and later sees a deer head mounted on the wall at the Armitages’ estate, the symbolism is hard to miss. Black people are being turned into trophies in this house. And, oh yeah, they’re being literally auctioned off—as they were in real life in the not-too-distant past.

One day, I’d like to see the film again to pick up on all the ways things read differently the second time through. I noticed several things in retrospect that gain new significance once you know the ending, and I’m sure there’s a lot I didn’t notice. For example, Rose’s dad says he hired Walter and Georgina to care for his parents, and when his parents died, “I couldn’t bear to let them go.” The first time you see the film, it sounds like the “them” is Walter and Georgina. But in retrospect, it’s clear the “them” he couldn’t bear to let go was his parents, so he sacrificed Walter and Georgina for them. Which, again, is an example of how the supposed care of the white characters for the black characters (his care for Walter and Georgina, Rose’s care for Chris) is really all about caring for themselves and treating the black characters as completely interchangeable objects.

The message of the film isn’t simply that the black characters are “good” and the white characters are “bad.” There are presumably—hopefully—many good white people in the world of this film, and many others who wouldn’t do what the Armitages are doing but also probably wouldn’t believe Chris or make the effort to stop it. Peele’s mother and wife are both white, so he’s clearly not trying to paint all white people as villains. 

But I admit, as a white guy, I really, really wanted Rose to be good. I’ve been the white person in an interracial relationship introducing my black boyfriend to my family. I’ve been that. So I related to Rose, and I really wanted to believe that she was well-intentioned and just oblivious; even though she misses the mark on several occasions, there are times that she seems like she gets it and she really does listen to Chris. When a cop asks to see Chris’s ID early in the film even though he wasn’t driving, Rose stands up against the obvious racism, showing us all what it looks like for white people to do the right thing. “That was hot,” Chris says to her later, and I thought, yeah, that’s who I want to be.

So I have to admit, it was really upsetting to me to see Rose, the only good white character left in the film, turn out to be evil. But I realized that part of that is that I really wanted her to represent me, and that’s really the point. Just think how often horror films have only one black character who dies early on, and how many films of all genres have no significant black characters for audience members to look up to or identify with. I think it’s really important for white audiences to experience that.

As I’ve reflected on the film, it seems to me like there are three kinds of popular movies about people of color. There are those that feature POC characters that are essentially indistinguishable from the white characters—as if they just decided to cast Morgan Freeman instead of Tom Hanks without giving any thought to the character’s race. Then there are the movies that deal with racism, but in a way that allows white people to feel good about ourselves, because we’re not like the characters in the film. (This is especially true for movies about racism in the past; some of them are very important films, like Hidden Figures, which I loved, but we need to be aware that it’s still easy for white America to treat it as a feel-good film and think that we’re off the hook because we no longer have separate restrooms.) And finally, there are movies that focus more directly on the lives of people of color but tend to draw largely audiences of color; not many white people go see them, because we think they’re not “for us” (even though we assume films about white people are for everyone).

Get Out isn’t any of those. It’s drawing a broad audience but it’s not afraid to make white people uncomfortable. And if you can give me, a white guy, a chance to have even a momentary fraction of an experience of the real-life, modern-day, casual racism facing people of color in America, I think that’s a very good thing.

6

The Ultimate SOUL MATES

Each sign has a soul mate. Some are combined by means of their oppositions, some by means of their similarities, but they are the absolutely perfect match for each other. It generally considers the SUN sign, but you can also use the rarer compatibility indication & check your VENUS (F) + MARS (M) / VENUS (F) + VENUS (F) / MARS (M) + MARS (M). Enjoy the aesthetics!


“Red & White” - ARIES & LIBRA

Both of them absolutely need that collision of opposites! The balanced and calm Libras need more drive in their life and so they are attracted to the restless, emotional and forceful Aries. Also, Libra is Venus ruling, so their sexuality is quite strong but reduced by their peaceful and quiet personality. So they seek for someone to open up their hidden desires and no one would do it better than the Mars ruling Aries.

This is a couple where both of the lovers are ready for new experiences and changes for the better. Even though Aries is incredibly stubborn, they get naturally cooled and matured by the help of the wise Air sign. Libra on their part, becomes more entertaining and free. As art lovers, they are ready for adventures that the crazy Aries is bringing into their life.


“Once and For All” - TAURUS & CAPRICORN

They are unchangeable and having a hard time accepting anything unfamiliar, but why should they learn to get along with someone they don’t feel comfortable with if they can be together? These are probably the 2 most similar signs in the horoscope and they make a perfect match. They have the same values & priorities, the same intentions and beliefs, they will support and understand each other entirely. One of the reasons for this perfect compatibility is that they have both, separately, fully complete personalities. They are able to have a great time being alone for the simple reason that they don’t need an opposite to get completed. Both of the signs are likely to fall for the other’s flaws, the flaws they are familiar with. Finding similar traits in each other is what they do best and it’s what keeps them together. They will make one of those couples that are just meant to be, together, they are capable of anything. Their stubbornness and their melancholic view on life might make them argue a lot, but their love is too deep for them to be apart. 


“The Sunshine” - GEMINI & SAGITTARIUS

They are completely on the same level. They get bored of anything constate, any routine, they can’t sit still, always moving forward. This clot of energy isn’t for everyone to handle, but perfect for each other! This is the couple who might end up travelling in a van all around the world, raising children on the road, and won’t stop until they’ve seen everything. They are made to be wild together! Partying, living their lives to the fullest in every way. Gemini is the mind in this couple, though. It’s usually the one who has a higher salary, a more stressful job and is the boss in the family. Sagittarius is totally cool with that, though, they aren’t seeking control, they are there to enjoy every second. Their love is strong, passionate but yet so peaceful and spontaneous. 


“Inseparable Dreams” - CANCER & VIRGO

Even though Virgos aren’t too romantic themselves, they like to absorb the tenderness and the open love that Cancers are ready to give. If a Virgo feels cherished, adored and appreciated, they will give the double of it back! This is a couple that will improve each other’s self-esteem, which both of them absolutely need. Completing each other, the Cancer becomes stronger emotionally and the Virgo outspoken and finally dares to open up. This is a love that won’t fade easily, won’t get destroyed by small, insignificant complications, it’s stronger than that since the partners depend on each other on a spiritual level. They might seem too attached and even grown one into another, but they are completely glad about it, they need each other more than they need anyone.


“Two Sides Of The Same Coin” - LEO & AQUARIUS

This couple is the definition of the famous saying “they are like two sides of the same coin.” They are very different at first sight, the Leo seems confident and outspoken, while the Aquarius is rather calm and shy, in fact, they are the same if you get to know them. The, so often artificial, Leo confidence turns into an incredibly generous love, care and harmony and the Aquarius’ timidity fades, they become open, talkative and a passionate. They hold each other so dear, they feel so fascinated by the fact that they are together, that they completely forget about everyone around. They can’t get enough of each other sexually and communicatively, they suddenly become affectionate and stop being attracted to many people at once, as they were used to be, because both of them finally feel like they’ve found what they needed most. A gorgeous couple worth admiring, and the main thing is, they know exactly how to make their partner look good! 


“The Domination Game” - SCORPIO & PISCES

These two are about opposites attracting. Even though they are both Water signs, I don’t know any other personalities as different as this couple. Not many people are ready to put up with the amount of emotions a Scorpio gives their partner. Intense love, hypersexuality, jealousy, impulsive hysterias. But this looks good for a Pisces. They are flattered of the attention they get, they enjoy the emotionality and know how to calm their lover. On the other side, the quite passive, patient and nonviolent Pisces doesn’t seem boring to a Scorpio at all. They love the fact of domination and full control they have over the adaptable Pisces, basically no one is standing in their way to live the life they want to. Which is perfect for the indecisive Pisces. They are also compatible sexually, their intimate life reflects their public one. And finally about their similarities: the sensibility and intensity of love Water signs are feeling, especially for each other, is beyond compare! 

People actually expect me to believe that if you throw a group of only one sex inside a fucking maze with no memories, no social, cultural or religious discourses forced upon them, no outside influences of any kind for years and years with only each other to grow close too, trust, survive with, protect, build with, bond with etc. 

That eVERY SINGLE ONE WOULD END UP STRAIGHT??????!??!!

6

Harry and the crew at the Jimmy Kimmel soundcheck. 

Because that’s what Harry does; spreading the love, kindness and humor - to everyone.

  • Maria: Nat how do you want your coffee?
  • Natasha: as dark as my soul
  • Maria: *hands her a cup of warm milk*
  • Natasha: *struggles to push back tears*
For anyone who ever falls in love with her or is lucky enough to get into a relationship with her. But hopefully she’s mine till the day I die. But take some of these things on board. - From someone who is in love with her and has been for 3 years. And always will be.
She loves FaceTime calls, especially video calls she’ll probably like seeing you because I definitely like seeing her. And hearing her voice. Her voice is special, and perfect to me because it’s hers. I could listen to her talking all day. Even if she’s complaining. She absolutely hates slow replies and being ignored, so reply to her as quickly as you can. And if you go out or you’re busy, make sure you tell her. Don’t allow her to overthink, and worry about you. It’s bad for her. Listen to her. Especially when she talks about something that makes her happy or inspires her. Listen. Even if she talks for hours , listen. Have deep conversations with her, about anything. She loves that. Talk to her for hours until 4am and you’re both tired , but happy so it doesn’t matter. Talk about weird things , like I do. Reincarnating into a tiger and a dolphin, so when we both die we can be happy together. Yes that’s weird but it’s us, and I love that. I’m sure she does too. Make her feel wanted, she absolutely hates feeling unwanted. I can assure you she’s wanted. More than anything by me. Send her cute messages and paragraphs , anything to make her smile, it’s difficult to make that girl smile. So it’s extremely precious to me when I see her smile. Be patient with her, it takes time to understand her. Wait. Wait a long time, as long as you need to wait until she’s comfortable to tell you something, for example if she’s in a bad mood. Don’t pressure her to tell you, don’t assume things. Yes I do that because I’m insecure and I overthink. But don’t make assumptions. Wait until she’s ready, but reassure her, so she knows you care. Please be patient and she’ll open up to you, if she trusts you. And it’s very hard to gain her trust. Appreciate her. Everything about her, how beautiful she is from head to toe. Her soul, her heart , her mind. I mean everything. This girl is special. Real fucking special. When she’s insecure and gets jealous of other girls , remind her she’s the best. To me she’s the best anyway. I wouldn’t want anybody but her. Admire every single thing about her. Emphasis on admire. She’s perfect. My perfect dolphin, I’d call her. That’d make her smile. All our little weird conversations mean a lot to me, and all our memories. I love her smile though, she hates it. But out of all the thousands of smiles I’ve seen hers is the best. I honestly can’t put into words how beautiful she looks when she smiles. The way her eyes glisten, sparkling omg. She hates her eyes too, because they’re “ boring brown” but to me they’re far from boring. They’re the type of eyes I could look into all day long and not for a second be bored. Even sitting in silence with her is perfect. The vibes off her are the besttttt. It’s unexplainable tbh. Don’t use her, never do that, she’s been hurt way too many times before and doesn’t deserve any more pain. Her happiness means the world to me. And if she ever becomes yours, do your best to keep her happy. This girl is different from the rest, NO ONE is like her. I swear you’ll never come across someone as perfect, precious, beautiful, amazing, out of this world etc. (I could go on) like her. Sometimes I have to ask myself if I’m dreaming, because the amount of love she shoes and all she does for me is unbelievable. And if you can ever call her yours , you’ll be very blessed to have her. This girl has her guard up too, a huge wall you have to break down bit by bit, for a very long time. Until you know her. I don’t know her to the full extent but I know her better than anybody else. And I lover her more than anybody else has or ever will.
She loves being called babygirl, princess or wifey. Or in our special kinda way she’s my dolphin. Something like that will make her smile. Don’t call her “B” or “baby” or “ babe” she thinks it’s cringe, or “ year 7 relationships” she’d say. And don’t put like 100 heart emojis or weird emojis when you text her, just be normal. When she’s happy she’ll put a lot of emojis. Pay attention to them. They represent her mood. It’s pretty important to me.
She’s passionate about reading and she’s soooo fucking good at writing. Anything. Literally. She’s the most intelligent, smart , brainy ( whatever you wanna call it ) girl I’ve met. No exaggeration at all. She absolutely loves getting new stationary, fine liners , coloured felts, glue, sticky notes, sexy note pads. You name it. And if she loves you she’ll spend hours and hours creating things for you. She’ll write you books if she’s 100% in love with you ( I’m lucky asf to get that ) even make a canvas of photos together. She will do a HELL of a lot. So appreciate that. If she’s ever yours. I appreciate her and I’m so thankful for every single thing she does.
She loves bright colourful sunsets ( purples and pinks , blues ) she likes it when they start to go dark though right at the end of them. She would spend ages taking photos of the sky , until it’s “ right ”. Sunsets are another thing that make her happy. Her happiness is key, remember that. And I hope In the future, me and her can sit and watch sunsets together. But if she becomes yours, please sit and admire the sky with her. Do anything you can to make her happy. She deserves happiness. And more. She loves romantic movies, tbh they’re her favourite, and horror movies. Lying in bed and watching a movie she’ll like, will make her happy. Some days she will push you away, and she’ll get angry at you for little things, but you need to understand that, that’s her. But try and stay, reassure her. Tell her how much she means to you, she loves when I do that. She will just stay in bed some days , not move at all, cry and hate herself. Those are the difficult days, don’t leave on those days. Do whatever you can to make sure she’s okay. Remind her that everything will be okay , the bad thoughts will go away. They don’t last forever. Better things will come.
She gets jealous too, very easily , if she loves you. Focus on her and nobody else, don’t ever take her for granted. Ever. And she doesn’t like going out, in crowded places , so don’t pressure her to go out. Whenever she’s ready you’ll know. She’ll prefer being indoors as long as she’s in the presence of someone she loves. That’d make her day, she’d say to me. There are a thousand of other things I could say, but hopefully this gives a decent idea. If you’re ever lucky enough to call her yours , protect her, love her, appreciate her etc. Take all of this into consideration. There’s much more but this is what comes to mind right now. But hopefully nobody else will ever have her and she’ll be mine until forever ends. If one of us die. But I will always love her no matter what. Regardless of anything, literally anything. I promise that.
—  for my wife.
Your hands are Really Nice- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: (requested) Reader is too shy to tell Jughead about her feelings, so Veonica and Betty take matters in to their own hands (mostly Veronica)

Warnings: Swears, fluff so much fluff I couldn’t even deAL

————————————————————————————-


Being in love with your best friend isn’t easy. It feels taboo, like it’s wrong, and unhealthy. You’ll lay awake at ungodly hours of the night, wondering “How did this happen?” You’ll replay every moment of every waking minute you spent with them, wondering how in the world you ended up lying on your floor with an empty bowl of ramen beside your head and imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. You’ll catch yourself admiring the tiniest insignificant things about them, and every detail of their stupidly cute face, and every indent and curve and freckle on their body, and let me tell you, it sucks. Falling in love with your best friend isn’t easy, especially when your best friend is Jughead Jones.


Keep reading

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

Sometimes it truly baffles me and I sit here in awe that a character like Sameen Shaw really exists in the TV landscape. She’s literally like walking representation. I mean a woman of color with a canon personality disorder and canonly likes both genders. She’s all of this wrapped in one smol 5'3 woman like it’s so wild. Plus she’s not some side character either, she was a main and we got to see her grow and see how she views the world and others.

It’s rare to find characters that are that heavily complex. And not only was she all of that but she was never villianized for anything. She was the biggest hero out there tbh. Not to mention mentally strong as hell. That still gets me. Yes she was physically strong too but her mental capacity was just out of this world. I’m still not over her having to endure 7k simulations when the average person wouldn’t be able to even get through one or two. Let alone 7k. Idk I have doubts that she’s human sometimes. But she would’ve done whatever to protect her team and that’s just so admirable.

Plus other little things like the way she eats. It’s amazing; she’ll eat steak off a knife or tear a sandwich completely apart and not give a fuck what anyone thinks. Proper etiquette be damned (actual Shaw dialogue probably).

And also her love of dogs is precious. She’d probably buy ten dogs and would prefer to live like that forever honestly.

What I’m saying is, Sameen Shaw is a fuckin amazing character and catch me still screaming about her 10 years from now. It’s more likely than you think.

Writing fanfiction is great because you get to channel all your brainpower into your absolute favorite characters. You get to take them and put them in a situation and think seriously and intensely about how they would react to it. You get to examine them and their thought processes and their insecurities and their values and you get to measure and weigh them and then you get to manipulate that situation literally however you want! You can test them! You can make them ridiculously happy! You can hurt them in ways that they’ve never been hurt before and then (if you’re like me and can’t stand unhappy endings) follow them through their recovery from that pain! You can write them into experiences that mirror your own or you can write them into situations that are literally impossible and you can write them into situations that would never happen in the source material. You can write endless AUs, pair your faves with literally any other character and explore their relationship dynamics (!!!!!!!!) and you can follow them through endless journeys because your interaction with them doesn’t end when the source material ends. You get to carry them with you. And your appreciation for that character and your understanding of that character can grow SO MUCH just by being in their head for a little while. 

tl;dr: FANFICTION is so COOL