and i forgot to write it down

funny story

when I was little, I would go on Nickelodeon.com all the time and they had this game similar to club penguin except it was called Nicktropolis. and if you forgot your password, a security question you could choose was “what is your eye color?” and if you got it right it’d tell you your password. so I would go to popular locations in Nicktropolis and write down random usernames who were also in those areas, and then i would log out and type in the username as if it were my own and see which of these usernames had a security question set to “what is your eye color?” (which was most of them, since it was easy and we were all kids). i would then try either brown, blue, or green, and always get in, then I would go to their house and send all of their furniture and decorations to my own account’s. and if it I didn’t want it, i could sell it for money

Seventeen things you have to learn for yourself
as a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex, Asexual, Pansexual
or otherwise Queer youth
by the time you are seventeen.

One is that the first Pride was a riot
I don’t mean that it was full of laughter, or that it was some grand party
where everyone spiraled up to dance among the stars
because the only glittering that night
was broken glass on cobblestones.
The first Pride was a riot
on the backstreets of New York
and they never tell us
that night
we won.
The only protest
in a decade full of turmoil
where the cops had to hide out in the bar they raided
and run from shouting rioters
who fought to reclaim the only patch of ground they had ever claimed as theirs
the first Pride was a riot,

and two, around the same time it took place
it was a debated topic in the gay community
whether or not they should say
that they weren’t mentally ill

which, three, homosexuality was removed
from the American Psychiatric Association’s list of mental illnesses
in 1974
congratulations
all it took was a vote to declare that, whoops, we were never mentally ill

except, four, there are still teenagers being tortured today
in what some dare blaspheme as “therapy”
used to destroy their self-identity
in the hopes of making them normal.
except, four, the queer community still carries overwhelmingly high rates for poverty and homelessness and depression.

Did you know that, five,
over half the children forced into conversion therapy
commit suicide?

And six, that lesbians
were regarded as “hangers-on”
of the movement
by much of the gay community
before the AIDS crisis?

Because it turns out, seven can wear a rainbow on your shirt
and still be a bigot.
There are people who stick rainbows in their ears
or wear them on their fingers
or slap them across their cheeks in badges of defiance
and will still hate you for the color of your skin
or the size of your thighs
or your gender
or the way you like to kiss two or more genders
or none of the above.
Don’t ask me why this happens
it just does
I think it might be that we’ve all been taught to hate ourselves
for so damn long
that we don’t understand what to do
in a space with no hate.
Or maybe it’s that the space seems too small, because

eight, there are people who will tell you that you are not enough
that you do not reach the magical benchmark of “gay enough” to pass through the gate even
especially
when you are some flavor of the rainbow other than straight-out gay.
eight, this is bullshit
eight, those people are bullshit.
eight, you are enough.
eight, there is always enough room.

nine, there is no overarching “homosexual agenda”
sorry
we’re all kind of flailing along in here trying to figure out some way to make it work
when most of us have nothing in common
except that society looked at us in different ways and decided we didn’t fit
so we could all go be misfits together
under one big rainbow flag

but just so you know, ten, there are plenty of other flags
there is one for you, I promise

and eleven, misfits may not all need the same things
but we need to stick together, especially in a world where

twelve—refer to point seven—there are lesbians who hate other lesbians
for having the audacity to be born in a body
that everyone looked at and saw “boy”
which brings me to

thirteen, there is so much to understand.

fourteen, you need to understand
because we need to stick together
and to stick together we do not have to be the same but we do have to understand
and it will be hard because
you were probably thrown into this world with no warning because

fifteen, being queer is not genetic and we are not unique among minorities
in that we collect our heritage through broken bits of history and research in a world constantly working to make those misfit bits go away
but we are unique in that when we try to prove our legacy
we can be laughed down
or re-erased
or flat out ignored
but I swear to you
you have a history as old as Alexander the Great
as beautiful as Sappho
as dignified as Abraham Lincoln
and as proud as Eleanor Roosevelt.

But even with that behind us
sixteen,
they have always watched us die.
because even though the bystander effect is bullshit, sixteen
Kitty Genovese was a lesbian, sixteen
Ronald Reagan is a mass murderer, sixteen
our children, your brothers and sisters and  siblings of all stripes and all colors and sexualities and genders are being murdered
through neglect
and rejection
and hate.

Sixteen, there is an entire generation of gay and bisexual men
missing from history
because the government chose to do nothing
when they were dying by the thousands.
sixteen, we died from the disease and died from going back into the closet and died for staying there and died for coming out,
sixteen, they laughed at us because they believed god was punishing us for daring to love,
sixteen, ashes of your forerunners rest on the lawn of the White House because
SIXTEEN, THEY HAVE ALWAYS WATCHED US DIE.

SEVENTEEN
you are allowed
to be angry.
You do not have to be one of the nice gays
or one of the nice trans people
or sweet or kind or educate the rest of the world in something less than a yell
you are allowed to be so furious it scalds your bones
at the way we are forgotten
and passed over
at the way, as soon as June becomes July
we are expected
to go back to dying in silence
and mourning our dead
and kissing all alone
when no one can be offended
at the sight of us.
You are allowed to be angry
and scream down the stars
to shatter like broken glass at your feet
because you know what?
The first Pride
was a riot.

—  October 11

The cameras make a habit of getting a LIL TOO CLOSE to Viktor and Yuuri because the mics sometimes pick up what they say to each other before skating or in the Kiss & Cry, and audiences eat that shit up. There are people who watch ISU events like it’s the Viktor&Yuuri Show, and the sports channels know it

TUNE IN FOR THE NIKIFOROV-KATSUKI VARIETY HOUR, the advertisements practically blare.

Viktor can often be heard composing what sounds like literal on-the-spot poetry. (”You are my sun and stars and I will love you until I’m in the ground–”) Much of this is to calm Yuuri down before he skates. Most viewers assume that he writes this shit down somewhere but people who know Viktor understand it to be just the shit that literally is always coming out of Viktor’s mouth.

“Oh,” Yuuri says while they’re waiting for Viktor’s scores one time. He hasn’t put his glasses back on yet and is kind of just staring, unfocused, into the nebulous distance. “I forgot to call Minako and wish her a happy birthday.”

(“YEAH YOU DID,” Minako growls at the television back in Hasetsu. Hiroko pats her back. She just turned fifty. She’s sensitive.)

“Well, you’re dead now,” Viktor says, picking fuzz off his costume. “It was nice knowing you. I’ll never forget you.”

“Will you move on from me?” Yuuri asks. All of this is completely deadpan as they squint at the scoreboard. Yakov is on Viktor’s other side, rolling his eyes.

“No. I’ll roam the halls of our empty home, wailing for my lost love. When I die, I’ll continue to haunt the place where I was once happy. They will call me the Silver Spectre. Once or twice a year, Americans will come and try to film me. I’ll scream into their camera equipment and carve the words triple axel into the hardwood.”

“Please not the hardwood, Vitya.”

They find out that most ISU programming isn’t actually put on a delay during the 2018 Worlds, when Viktor and Yuuri are congratulating each other on winning gold and silver and the cameras pick up Viktor saying, “When we get home, I’m going to bend you over the table and–”

“LOVING WORDS FROM VIKTOR NIKIFOROV-KATSUKI TO HIS HUSBAND,” screams the commentator, whose producer is currently bellowing abort abort into his left ear. “LET’S GO TO PAULA WHO’S TALKING TO BRONZE MEDALIST YURI PLIS–OKAY, NEVER MIND. HAHA, TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES! WE’RE CUTTING TO COMMERCIAL.”

‘Technical difficulties’ is Yuri punting a tiger plush so hard towards Viktor that it knocks him backwards and into the backdrop for the Kiss & Cry.

“This used to be an ELEGANT SPORT,” Yakov growls. He looks to Lilia, whose expression is suspiciously toothy. “Are you laughing at this, Lilya?”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” Lilia replies.

ADHD Moods: A Collection

* Bored.

* move move move move move move move move move

* “What month is it again?”

* SHIT

* “Aren’t you supposed to leave at 3:00?” “Yeah but it’s only like 1:30 I’ve got time” “Dude it’s like 2:57” “FUCK”

* Focus level: non-existent

* Focus level: EXTREME

* “Listen I know you told me to do this thing and explained it three times already but could you maybe explain it again”

* “I forgot”

* MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE

* I had three assignments due today and I forgot about all of them kill me

* The face you make when a NT tells you to “just write it down”

* MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE

* “Can I touch your stim toy?” “NO

* It’s been 14 hours since I ate bc I forgot

* It’s been 38 hours since I ate bc I forgot

* “iF it wAs imPoRTanT yoU wOuLd’Ve rEmeMbeReD iT”

* “When the hell was the last time I showered?”

* Yes I know I need to calm down but THEYRE TALKING ABOUT MY HYPERFIXATION OVER THERE

* MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE

* I’m hungry but all I want is strawberry jello

* Too Much™

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

SHOUT OUT

It’s easy to preach self-acceptance and positivity when it comes to body image, but no one really addresses the uncomfortable parts of having a disabled body.

Shout out to the ones who:

  • Can’t control their body fluids 
  • Deal with incontinence
  • Don’t wash as often as they should
  • Don’t brush their teeth as often as they should
  • Drool, fart, sweat, secret mucus, or excrete other fluids more than they’d want to
  • Get enemas
  • Get constipated regularly 
  • Get diarrhea regularly
  • Have flooding periods
  • Need assistance to get washed 
  • Need assistance to go to the bathroom 
  • Need assistance to get cleaned up
  • Need assistance to get dressed
  • Need assistance to eat
  • Need assistance to perform basic activities 
  • Need assistance at all
  • Use feeding or breathing tubes
  • Wear diapers, sanitary napkins or catheters 
  • Wear stoma bags

This is for you if you only do it sometimes
This is for you if you do it 24/7
This is for you if I forgot to mention your condition (please write it down)

You are not the only one.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Your body is precious.
You are valid.
You are rad.
You are loved.

Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

Keep reading

I feel your absence like a noose around my neck. I look at you and I ache. Something inside me twists. It wants to get out. All of me is reaching towards you.
I feel your hands like ghosts. My skin remembers what it was like to be warm. Like the sun was burning, burning, burning inside me. We slept under the same moon. We laughed under the same sky. Somewhere, all of that is raining back down on me.
I lift my face and greet it.
I lift my face and remember even though I know you forgot.
I lift my face anyway.
I kiss the rain and wish it were you.

papa kogane used to tell keith that his mom had to go home. he’d point to the stars and say “she’s waiting for you, son”

every night keith would sit under the stars or at an open window and talk to his mom. he’d think to himself “she can’t hear me”. “but maybe. just, maybe she can” he would reason.

he starts small. just telling her what happened that day. “the ear on my hippo ripped while i was chasing a lizard, but dad fixed it. she looks kinda funny now but i still love her.” or “my teacher gave me a sticker for my homework! it had a dragon on it!!! i’m gonna put in on the window, maybe then you’ll see it.” 

“she left for a good reason” he would tell himself late at night when he couldn’t sleep. “she’s gonna come back for me”

then his dad dies and his conversations with his mom fill with questions. “where are you? what are you doing? why didn’t you say goodbye? dad is dead AND YOU NEVER SAID GOODBYE.”

he grows resentful of her. his sadness shows in the form of anger. but then he meets shiro. he finds a brother in a time he thought there was no one left to love him. and so he forgets his mom for a while. his anger drifts away as he sits with his brother.

but when shiro disappears from kerberos all the dark thoughts come flooding back. his first night in the shack is too much. he stands at the window, knife in hand “did you ever love me. when i was a baby, did you ever look down and think ‘this is enough. keith, you are enough.’” he would pause, because maybe this time she’d respond, maybe this time was different. but there would be no reply  “no, you didn’t. of course you didn’t. because why would someone love THEIR OWN SON”

he turns away from the window to face the stuffed hippo on the couch. she’s beaten and torn. two mismatched button eyes and a mangled ear. his dad’s words echo in his mind “your mom gave you this the day you were born. never forget that she loved you.” 

keith sends his knife flying, burying in the chest of the animal. he falls to the floor of the dark and empty shack. he’s shaking as tears stream down his face and a broken voice chokes out between sobs, “liars. they’re all liars.”

anonymous asked:

I love your blog your writing is amazing. I was wondering if maybe you could write about Betty and jughead having a secret relationship because they're just not ready to tell everyone but one day Betty goes to school with a hickey and everyone finds out about their relationship.

Thank you so much! You got it!

***

It was the end of spring, cheerleading season was long over but the riverdale high baseball team was having their final home game, so the riverdale vixens decided to dress in their uniforms and support the team.

Spotting Betty walking down the halls in her blue and gold uniform, Veronica smiled.

“Hey vixen, forgot how good that uniform looked on you.” She winked.

Betty laughed “you’re one to talk. You were made to wear that skirt.”

Leaning up against her locker Veronica smiled at herself.

“I’ve got to say it feels good to not have to wear that turtle neck underneath our uniform, I feel free!”

Betty smiled

“Agreed, it feels good to let my neck breathe.”

Veronica nodded in agreement glancing at Betty’s neck, suddenly her eyes were wide and she was tugging the tiny top down even more if possible.

“What the hell! Veronica! What are you doing?!”

Turning Betty’s head to look into the tiny mirror hanging up in her locker, Veronica pointed at her neck.

“What is that?!”

Finally Betty spotted the offending mark Veronica was so concerned about.

It was a hickey.

How had she not seen that?

“Oh, I must have burnt myself on my curling iron this morning! I’m so clumsy, you know that.” She said laughing nervously.

Veronica stared at her with disbelieving eyes

“Sweetie, I know a hickey when I see a hickey. That’s a hickey.”

“Veronica, that’s ridiculous it’s a burn.”

“Betty, I’m your best friend. What are you hiding from me?”

Suddenly, jugheads lazy voice entered the conversation

“Who’s hiding things?”

Both heads whipped around and Veronica reached for Jughead, pulling him towards Betty.

“Look! A hickey! Do you know who Betty’s been seeing? Because I sure don’t.”

Jugheads eyes widened as he caught Betty’s eyes.

He quickly stamped down his panic,

“Maybe it’s a burn, Betty does use a curling iron a lot.”

“Thankyou!” Betty said quickly

“You two are ridiculous. I’m gonna find out , you know I will!” Veronica said before stomping away , leaving betty and jughead alone by the lockers.

“Don’t be mad.” He said quickly

“My neck Jughead! Of all the places!”

He glanced to the heart shaped bruise, marring her skin.

And unfortunately he wasn’t able to hide his proud smirk before she caught it.

Smacking his arm

“Jughead!”

“I’m sorry okay, I got carried away. It was that damn yellow dress last night. You know I love it when you wear that thing.”

She blushed slightly remembering the events that took place in her bedroom last night.

Jughead looked around quickly, making sure no one was looking, before he placed a quick kiss on her lips.

“It’ll be fine .I’m sure no one will even notice.”

That was the biggest lie of the year.

She had already been stopped by Kevin, Cheryl, and Josie and half the football team had been whistling when she walked past commenting on the hickey.

By last period, study hall, she was thoroughly over this day, and ready to go back to wearing her sweaters.

The gang all had this period together. So they usually spent it on a table outside.

Sliding into the seat next to Betty’s , jughead slid his hand under the table and squeezed her knee.
She smiled softly at him.

“Okay” Veronica spoke up “Kevin, Cheryl and I have gone over all possible suspects regarding the case of Betty’s hickey”

“Oh my god” betty mumbled, dropping her head to the table.

Archie poked his head up from his music book

“Hickey? Betty? What?!”

Kevin sighed “well there goes my guess, it couldn’t have been Archie if he didn’t even know about it.”

Archie was now leaning over the table trying to get a look at Betty’s neck

“I’m sorry. What?! Betty what the hell?”

Cheryl pulled out a notebook ,passing it to Veronica

“I had it narrowed down to dilton doiley or trev marrow, but after speaking to them I now know that it’s neither.”

“You asked them if they gave me a hickey?!”

Veronica crossed out something in the notebook.

“Well we know it’s not anyone on a sports team, we totally would have found that out by now, and the smart kids wouldn’t be able to do that kind of handiwork If they tried so they’re out. Who does that even leave us with?” Veronica said frustrated.

Suddenly everyone’s eyes shot to Jughead who was leaning back in his seat smirking with a shrug.

“Don’t ask me.”

Veronica’s eyes widened

“Oh my god.”

Cheryl slammed her hands down on the table

“Shut up.”

Kevin nearly spit out his water

“ Total plot twist.”

And Archie was just confused

“What, what do we know?!”

Suddenly Betty smiled, reaching for jugheads hand.

“Okay, now can we please stop talking about this.”

Jughead nodded

“As much as I enjoy hearing you all talk about other guys leaving hickeys on my girls neck, I’d rather we changed topics, thanks”

Archie dropped his book on the floor with a thud.

“Girlfriend?!?”

Jughead sat up straighter

“Yeah girlfriend. Is that a problem pal?”

Archie just sat back, glaring at his best friend.

“This is total breaking news, Betty Cooper and jughead jones. We have so much to talk about. I’m sleeping over tonight.”

“Me too.” Cheryl agreed.

“Me three.” Kevin nodded

Betty groaned leaning into her boyfriend

He laughed , kissing her on her forehead.

First of all, sorry for the slow responses! I forgot that I had to work a shift today, so I wasn’t around all afternoon. Which didn’t leave much time for me to write, but here I am, so lets do this (until I inevitably disappear to get some sleep)! Also I’ve gotten some very lovely asks but I wanted to write this down before I forgot. I thought of this headcanon while I was working and it’s too damn good not to share:


Alright, this happens at some point after CW but before Thanos shows up. The team (without Bucky, who’s still in Wakanda, working on getting his head cleared) is back in the US, having signed some form of revised accords. Steve is no longer team leader, but otherwise they’ve gotten off fairly easily with little repercussions. The tension between the old and new Avengers is obvious and especially Tony is met with outright hostility. It doesn’t help that Rhodey still isn’t in any shape to join the fights and is rarely around.

One day Clint signs Tony up for a parenting class. It’s another not-nicely-meant joke because of all the criticism Tony’s gotten for letting Peter fight. Only, the thing nobody expected? Tony actually goes. Because apparently he’s just that masochistic (apparently part of him still desperately wants to fix, to work things out between them). It earns him a lot of harsh ridicule, but Tony finishes it all the same.

Thing is, the Team Cap is so busy making fun of him, they don’t even notice when things start changing. Little things. When Steve walks into an argument between Clint and Tony and asks the latter “What have you done now?” disappointedly, Tony doesn’t snap something, get defensive or flee. He says “Have you ever noticed that you’re always immediately assuming I’m the one who has done something?”. It earns him another hurtful comment from Clint, and the incident is forgotten.

Until. Until, one day, during a debrief, Steve snaps. “She’s just a kid, Tony!” he yells when Tony keeps insisting on harder training for Wanda.

There’s a moment of silence, before, “Oh. Really? Does everyone agree with that?”

“You’re still not done catching up, Stark? So much for the futurist,” Clint sneers, and the matter is dropped. Or so it appears.

For the rest of the meeting, Tony is quiet. Thoughtful. In retrospect, they should’ve taken it for the warning it was.

That evening, when Wanda orders a new dress online, FRIDAY dispassionately informs her the transaction is impossible, as the price goes beyond her monthly allowance.

After a fruitless shouting match with the AI, she goes to Steve. Who (after a just as fruitless shouting match) goes to Tony. Who shrugs. “You told me she’s just a kid. Nobody, not even she herself, disagreed. I’m treating her like one.”

Suddenly, M-rated movies are inaccessible whenever Wanda is in the room. Once her curfew is reached, all electric devices go into sleeping modus (unless in case of an emergency of course). Talking with Tony, screaming at Tony, proves to be completely useless. Tony refuses to budge. Repeats lessons from his parenting class, about enforcing rules and teaching children boundaries.

And it doesn’t end there. The entire team is cut off from Tony’s money–Steve has to admit, he’s entitled to that, and maybe the team has gotten a bit too used to throwing Tony’s money around. That’s not the bad part anyways, they all have their own salaries from the government, they can still live. Just maybe a little more limited than before.

But suddenly the services they’ve become accustomed to are cancelled. They have to buy groceries themselves. There is no cleaning crew after Wanda throws a temper tantrum–she has to clean it herself or one of her ‘staunch defenders’, as Tony calls them, has to do it for her. New furniture doesn’t magically appear out of thin air, they have to buy it. And suddenly–suddenly the costs are starting to add up.

There’s a list pinned to the fridge one morning–on paper even–with their chores, going from doing the dishes to the laundry, that rotate every week. Who hasn’t fulfilled his one has to do all the chores the next week. FRIDAY keeps track of it, and barring missions and injuries, there are no exceptions.

Being grounded is an honest to god possibility now, including all electronics, for when they break one of the House Rules. And they are all enforced ruthlessly.

They all try to talk to Tony about it–they aren’t children, they don’t have to put up with this shit, it wasn’t funny to begin with, when is he gonna stop this already–but he remains unmoved.

It’s all “You told me Wanda is a kid,” and “I am allowed to set rules, considering you’re living under my roof. And there really is no excuse for breaking them, you are all aware they exist and why. They’re reasonable and you know it.”

And the most damning of them all. “If you’re so grown up and independent, you know where the door is. Walk out. This isn’t a prison, and you’re always welcome back, provided that you’re following the rules. You can walk away any time you want.”

Suffice to say, Clint is getting a lot of shit for signing Tony up for that parenting class. (Tony tells him he really appreciates it because clear communication is important.)

Your friends all crushing on Dick Grayson

•This was the “cute” cop everybody talked about

•Built body and a charming smile

•Could probably turn people in just by smiling at them

•"Officer Dick Grayson, wouldn’t mind having a ride on-“your friend would begin
•"Alright lets just stop right there.”

•Your friends made it their mission to find what coffee shop he stops by in the morning

•Surprisingly you found out where he stops unintentionally

•Didn’t want to tell your friends where he stops because it was your favorite and most peaceful cafe

•Accidentally glared at him when you were thinking about this

•Had to talk your friends out of breaking the law to get his attention
•"Yeah no, We are not speeding in your horrible car just to get his attention.“

•They decided just to let the parking meter expire and when Officer Dick would come to write the ticket they all came flocking to the car (looking their very best)
•You did not know about this
•They used YOUR car

•Didn’t realize this until you walked to your car with your heart struck friends and Dick writing the ticket nearby
•"Oh my gosh, Officer I’m so sorry we’re late.” Your friend would explain
•"Yeah, I guess my friend forgot the money.“

•Cue you walking to YOUR car
•"What the- ugh… I gave you guys money for the meter and you didn’t put it in?”
•You were quickly shushed
•Dick heard, but didn’t say anything

•"That’s alright ladies, just be more observant next time ok?“ Dick would hum crumbling up the ticket

•The next morning you went to your favorite coffee shop

•"Your friends are funny.” A voice said as you sat down. Looking up it was Dick

•"They practically love you, sorry in advance for whatever they try to do next.“ You said
Dick chuckled and sat down in the seat in front of you.
“Are you apart of my fan base?” He asked.
You gave a slight snort, “Don’t get too full of yourself, it wasn’t my plan to let my parking meter expire and for you to give me a ticket.”
“But I didn’t” Dick said while taking a sip of his coffee
“Thank you for that” you smiled.

•He asked why you didn’t tell your friends about his coffee shop hideout.
“Trying to save me for yourself?” He teased.

•You sarcastically put your hands up.
“You got me there, Are you in love with me yet?” You joked back.

•He shrugged his shoulders “Well I have been for a while, your just adding to it now.”
Dick quickly wrote his number on a napkin
“Call me if your friends get too crazy… or just call me.”

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Something that can be helpful when you’re on your journey to find the perfect name for yourself is to do a “Name test run”. 

Write down some sentences that you or others would say and fill in the name you want to test. Put the list away for a while and then read it again a bit later. 

If possible, try to read them out aloud (if you don’t want anyone to hear, choose a time you’re alone at home). 

Why put it away for a while? Because doing so will distance you a bit from it. You might feel very enthusiastic about the name while writing it down and, after not thinking about it for a while, realize that it’s actually not that great. 

Here are some example sentences: 

- Sentences you would say 

“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m (xx) years old.” 

“You’ve reached the voicemail of (name). Please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as possible.” 

“Write back soon! With all my love, your friend (name)” 

“My name is (name) but my friends call me (nickname).” 

- Sentences others would say: 

“(Name), I love you.” 

“I’m sorry, (name) isn’t here right now.” 

“(Name), your child forgot to turn in their homework again.” 

“Hey, (name), how are you?” 

“Would passenger (name) please see the nearest ticket agent?” 

Of course you can customize those sentences to reflect your current life situation but don’t be afraid to include sentences you wouldn’t hear now but might in the future. Don’t be afraid to simply play around a little and try to have fun with it! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

Good Girl, Bad Habits

`There’s no stopping now, green lights forever. `

Originally posted by bapsae-monsta

↠ Word Count: 2.3k

↠ Genre: Smut

↠ Pairing: boss! Jungkook x reader

MASTERLIST


“ What do you want, Mr. Jeon? “ you rolled your eyes at him. He was irritating you,with his bossy attitude, which was expected,since he was your boss.

” I think you forgot something. “ he whispers quietly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. ” We made a deal, didn’t we, sweetie? ”

 You froze, remembering the events from one week ago. He didn’t forget? Fuck. “So, why aren’t you answering? Cat got your tongue? “ he says, as he grabs your chin, to look up at him. You looked up, and opened your mouth to say something, but it was shushed, by him putting his thumb in your mouth.

 ” Suck it. “ he says.You didn’t say anything, and obeyed him. Your tongue made cat licks on it, and you started slightly sucking it, while looking in his eyes.

 ” Good girl. “ he says. Suddenly, he pushes you into his desk, and positions you onto it. He sat in between your legs, and grabbed you by the waist. The position made you feel your bodies together, and his hard clothed member on your core. ” I thought good girls didn’t turn bad, apparently I was wrong. ” Without a warning, he starts choking you, and kissing you. Sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, he looked at you, and started bruising your lips. You moaned out of pleasure and pain, not being able to hold it in.

 He stopped, and let go of your neck, making you confused and needy of the lost pleasure. “ I think you have work to do. “he says as he fixes his tie. “I need these paper to be done by tommorow. ” he husked as he handed you the papers.

 You nodded, and exited his office, while fixing your skirt. 

 He really was something.

When you got back in your office, you groaned out of frustration, and hopped on your chair. While spinning on it, you tapped your fingers on the desk.

 "Two must play this game, Jeon.“ 

Keep reading

Bum’s diary

”Dear Diary! Today I found out that I have a boyfriend! ♥

“I was a little surprised but I guess Sangwoo forgot to tell me because we were so busy recently. 

“We don’t go out much, but even our love can’t stay locked up forever. Today we finally went on date! We even wore cute matching outfits~!

Sangwoo’s arms look good tied up behind his back like that. It makes all of his muscles bulge.I wonder if anyone would notice if I licked his shoulder?

“Dear diary, my boyfriend is so romantic! ♥ Even though I’m so useless he proclaimed our love in front of everybody.

And there is even more! But this is so embarrassing I don’t know how to write it down. We also… we k-kissed! Again.

“How did Sangwoo learn to do that with his tongue? I have a lot to learn too if I want to be a good boyfriend! This is the first time I’ve had a boyfriend after all. Love really does change how you see the world. It feels as if everyone is looking at us.

“Note to self: Get both of us longer shorts…

“I have to go now. This nosy man keeps asking me about Sangwoo. Next time I’ll tell you all about renovations we are doing in our house. Sangwoo has been painting the floor.

 “P.S.: My Sangwoo is so sweet when he’s being spontaneous. I want to suck his cock hold hands again soon!”