at this point i should really stop trying

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

Adventure Time Comics Supports Bubbline

Marcy helped PB to get the heart crystal for experiment while she was sleeping <3

Princess Bubblegum is trying to cheer Marcy

Even though Princess Bubblegum has a lot of responsibility, she still wants to hang out with her bae

Nice catch Marcy (I should point that the green skin people are vampires and they aren’t supposed to look like that and they should be dead)

The amulet looks like from episode “Broke His Crown”

I still can’t believe Marcy prank Simon for creeping around PB.

CAN WE JUST SAY THAT WAS REALLY FU@KING GAY WHEN SHE SAID “That’s my girl.” AND BONNIE BLUSHES!!!

Oh my glob, their dancing and she doesn’t mind dancing with her before she goes to bed for sixteen days.

“Stop trying to hit on my girlfriend, Simon” 

FOR LOVE OF GLOB! WHEN ARE THEY GOING TO DO A BACKSTORY EPISODE OF HOW MARCY AND BONNIE MEET?!

She ditch her duties and basically said to important people to get lost so she could hang out with Marcy

I REALLY WISH WE KNOW WHAT SHE WAS ABOUT TO SAY BUT FU@KING FINN HAVE TO RUIN IT DAT B@TCH

“Be the same person around Lemongrab as you are when we’re alone, please? Please?” Oh my GLOB

Dat look on PB face when Marcy was helping Finn with fighting the Lich and she doesn’t say any caring words to Finn 

Was those pest about to say that Marceline loves PB for her?!?!?!?! Judging the way she look in the fifth panel

Oh my glob

THEIR MARRIED!!!!!

I can’t believe Marceline got killed by this guy :’(

Poor Bonnibel Bubblegum. Sitting in a dark throne room alone next to Marcy throne :’(

Future Princess Bubblegum to Princess Bubblegum - “Marceline still loves you”

Future Princess Bubblegum to Marceline - “I love you Marceline”

That what I like to believe of what she said to them :)

MARCELINE & THE SCREAM QUEENS WAS GAY!!!

She’s jealous guys, SHES FU@KING JEALOUS!

Her band are trying to give her confidence but their not helping. When she sees Bonnie, she got it back. 

Princess Bubblegum meeting Marcy Dad and he’s embarrassing her in front of her band and her girlfriend

DAT FACE. IT’S THE SIGN OF JEALOUSLY!

When Bonnie clap, Marcy blush

OMG YOU GUYS! MARCY GETS EXTREMELY JEALOUS WHEN PB IS HANGING OUT WITH GUY!!!! 

Princess Bubblegum has ANOTHER ROCK SHIRT FROM MARCELINE!? 

MARCELINE GONE ADRIFT WAS GAY!!! (MY FU@KING HEART)

“But don’t hurt her” Damn that was gay

Princess Bubblegum looked so sad for blasting Marcy off to space. :’(

“SHIPPER HEART ATTACK”

She’s not done yet. She has to find her bae in SPACE

PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU. JUST HANG OUT!!!!!

Please don’t blame Bonnibel for sending you to into space, just look at her face, Marcy! ALL I WANT IS FOR YOU TWO TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER!!!

“ ANOTHER SHIPPER HEART ATTACK ”

I’m getting hurt 

The Star Crossed Lovers

Just say “sorry” and kiss already!

This page is basically telling that she needs Marcy in her life

I just realize that Princess Bubblegum does crazy rescue mission when Marcy is in danger like this and in the Mini-series “Stakes”

FOR FU@K SAKE JUST KISS ALREADY!

Their holding hands

“SHIPPERS HEART ATTACK YET AGAIN”

Originally posted by hedajauregui

BONUS

Oh my glob, is that Marceline and Princess Bubblegum child!?

Yet again, this is probably another reason why this ship could actually become cannon. I’m still waiting for Bonnie and Marcy to hug each other because we never saw them hugging in the show   

This literally took me  two and half hours to make this post and it’s probably my longest that I’ve ever done and now I can sleep 

anonymous asked:

Inquisition pre-romance romances hearing Cole talk about how the inquisitor feels about them?

Cassandra: She’s blushing. Cole is rattling off all of these sweet things, and she keeps trying to get herself to utter the words to ask him to stop, but she can’t. She has to hear him. She doesn’t say anything as he finishes, not until he starts talking about her feelings, at which point she stops him, face completely red. Maybe I should consider spending more time with him, if he really feels that way… No. I need to go speak with him about his flirting…

Iron Bull: He listens patiently, then thanks Cole as soon as he’s done. “Thanks for the info, Kid. I’ve got business to attend to.” He then heads right up to the Inquisitor’s room with no hesitation.

Blackwall: It both hurts him to hear this and makes his heart flutter. He stumbles as he asks Cole to stop, stuttering, as he tries to sit to make sense of this information. Eventually, he decides the best course of action is to speak to her directly about it. Part of him hopes it goes like the Inquisitor wants it.

Sera: On instinct, she starts to tell Cole to shut it, but stops abruptly as he starts talking about the Inquisitor’s feelings, sweet feelings and thoughts, about her. “Wh- what? Are you messing with me, Creepy?” she snaps, to which Cole denies. She shoos him away and hurries to find the Inquisitor, heart racing with glee, more so than any prank she’s pulled.

Dorian: He says nothing as Cole speaks, though slowly, he draws the book he’s holding over his face as the blush intensifies and burns his cheeks. He’s not sure if he wants to scold the boy or thank him profusely. He settles for awkwardly stuttering for a moment and then excusing himself. Someone… actually feels that way about me? “Kaffas.” he curses, and decides to meet him directly in the Inquisitor’s quarters.

Solas: His heart clenches with fear and excitement as Cole speaks. “You love her, too,” the spirit remarks, “why is it so scary to you? Do you want me to tell her your heart, too?” He quickly declines and dismisses himself to ponder his next actions.

Josephine: She stops short as Cole starts talking, and turns to stare at him with wide eyes. “Really?” she asks, and he confirms it. “I… I… I see. Thank you, Cole. I will… handle this…” Her heart races the next time they speak with her, and when they invite her to speak with them privately, she knows where this is going, and quietly thanks Cole.

Cullen: He says nothing at all, trying to act composed, but his cheeks betray him. He stutters a bit when Cole stops talking and thanks him, then says nothing more. When the Inquisitor comes to ask to talk to him alone, his heart jumps, with glee and fear. He can’t deny his own feelings.

ok story time, i used to play DCUO in its early days which for those who don’t know is basically an MMORPG set in the dcu where you create a hero or villain and make your way up the hero ladder, and if you level up enough you end up being accepted into the justice league as an actual member

there are various locations you can visit, one of them being the watchtower where you can find the trinity in the middle of the map inside a dome you can’t visit unless you’ve actually become a justice leaguer. but you can still see them in there just… existing i guess (i don’t remember seeing the models even talk) so you’d constantly have other people gathering around and being interested in seeing what’s going on. one of those people was Xcalibersomething but we’ll call him XC. XC was this guy who had teamed up with me and a few other people for some quests because you finish things quicklier/easier when you team up with other random people, but out of the group, we were the last ones to leave so for the time being we had decided to stick together. we didn’t message each other all that much because the main idea was easy enough: you see something > you decide to kill it > i follow and help you kill it faster

at some point we visit the watchtower, go our separate ways for a while because that place is huge and you bet your ass i’m gonna fly around without actually doing anything, then just as i’m about to leave, he writes me in the chat:

<XC>: i think there’s a way to get in there
<me>: where?
<XC>: the room where superman, batman and ww are
<me>: oh i don’t think you can yet. hall of justice is locked for low levels
<XC>: no i can

now, i’m thinking “no you can’t” but i let him be because he’s going to realize soon enough you can’t actually find a way inside that room without meeting certain criteria. i won’t get worked up. i don’t know him either so maybe this is the most interesting thing he’s done this week. i do, however, decide to stick around a little longer

i see XC go as back as the map allows him and just fly straight into the glass (which for reference, flying in low levels… is not that fast. you get the effect of wind blowing past you but actually seeing it in third person is hilariously slow for the current circumstances). he stops. that’s expected, he can’t actually ram his way through. the game doesn’t work that way so i don’t expect him to–

<XC>: do you think the glass can break?
<me>: i really doubt that
<XC>: try with me

which i do. because i decided to stay so i may as well fly back and forth the map in an attempt to break a glass that can’t break. flying is fun, i’m having a dandy time. we keep at it for maybe one minute and a half, some people join us for a while without knowing why we’re doing this weird marathon thing, then i stop and write:

<me>: maybe we should go do some missions to level up (aka you aren’t breaking this glass i can’t believe you’re still at it let’s actually finish the game holy SHIT)
<XC>: no i really can’t do that
<me>: why not?
<XC>: he’s watching

okay… at this point i’m like he probably has a friend/sibling sitting next to him that he wants to impress with his super gaming skills, so i get it. we’ve all been there. i get it. trying to introduce a new game mechanic via strong belief and the power of imagination isn’t the way to go about it but i get the premise, you know?

he doesn’t ask me to start trying again, he just swoops away towards the dome as if he’s certain i’ll follow. i’ve officially joined a cult and he’s the leader. i can’t break his trust. i’m his second in command at this point. he expects me to be there in tow, together joined in his crusade against The Glass. i don’t have it in me to betray him, i won’t be the hal to his sinestro. so i follow. and i fly. and i get back and then i fly again. and this keeps happening for i’m certain more than seven minutes without any kind of communication or cease of efforts. i’ve put on music. i’m singing karaoke. i’m chilling. i’ve accepted my fate i’ll stay here for the rest of my life. but then it gets to the point it’s nearly 3am on a school night and i don’t have it in me anymore. i’m about to desert his ass as if he’s the guerillas and i’m missing my family. i write:

<me>: listen i really have to go. but it’s been fun!
<XC>: oh
<XC>: okay yeah. it was fun. thanks for trying to help
<me>: sure. can i just say something
<XC>: yep
<me>: none of my business but you can impress them a lot easier by actually leveling up and beating some bosses instead of this lol
<XC>: impress who?
<me>: whoever’s sitting next to you
<XC>: ?
<XC>: oooh no
<XC>: i meant batman
<XC>: he’s in there always watching. i want to make a good impression

i didn’t pick up the game for four months after that. and let me tell you. let me tell you. to this day, i still respect XC. batman’s in there. always watching. he just wanted to make a good impr

Imagine demon!Dean beating a guy up to death because he touched you and he got jealous. (Part 2)

Read Part 1 here!

“How-” you voice felt stuck in your throat “How do you know me?”

“He-” she glanced at the door, hesitating as if he could come in any given moment “Doesn’t matter.” she breathed out, shaking her head as if to shake the thought off and turned to leave.

But you weren’t having any of it “No” you breathed out, rushing to grab her arm “No, please.” you looked at her with pleading eyes, for the first time putting all feelings of jealousy aside “Tell me.”

“I-” she sighed, looking around nervously “He’s mentioned you.”

“He?” your hand fell on your side “Dean, right?”

“Yeah.” she pursed her lips and oh you knew that look very well, jealousy and envy “Without really wanting to, uh a couple times. Once or twice in his sleep and other during-” she stopped herself, shrugging and now it was your turn to feel that unpleasant burn inside your chest “I asked him who you were but he always brushed it off, insisting it- you didn’t mean a thing but seeing the way he looks at you just… proves how wrong I always was for believing him. And how wrong he was.”

“About what?” you said in a low voice, biting your lower lip.

Keep reading

You should really stop that.

I look over at her, quizzical.
She points to the cigarette dangling from my mouth and gives me the basic line that everyone says to a smoker.
It’s not healthy.

I could stop smoking at any given moment, yknow.” As I crush the supposed “cancer stick” to the dirt, resisting the urge of an eye-roll.
She’s watching me, obviously waiting for an explanation.
God, why does she care? No one ever has before.

It wouldn’t be hard, I mean, I’m not addicted or anything.

She laughs and suddenly I’m trying to ignore how good it sounds. “Isn’t that what all addicts say?

I’m serious.” Judging by the look on her face, I know that wasn’t the answer she wanted.. so I stopped sugar coating it.

I just don’t stop because I’d rather kill myself in a way that’s more..socially accepted. People don’t notice as much- they call me a smoker, not suicidal. I like it that way.
—  Nicole Torres // Cigarette Daydreams Excerpt
Shy || Jughead Jones

Request by @myteenwolf-world: Hi Rose :) I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is really shy and barely speaks to anyone? Jug is the only one she talks to and the rest of the group are surprised to see them having a conversation and being close. They question Jug about it and they find out he has a crush on her. Thank you in advance <3

A/N: I feel like this was kind of shaky since I haven’t written prompts in a while but I’m getting back in the swing of things! Hope you enjoy. <3

Gif by @juggiehead

—————

Being the new kid was never easy. Being the shy new kid was never easy. You were the perfect target for bullying from people like Reggie and Chuck who always catcalled you in the hallways and knocked your binders out of your arms. But you never said a word. You didn’t want to cause any trouble.

A few people noticed you. The “Sad Breakfast Club” saw you in the hallways. Sitting alone at lunch. Reading alone. Keeping to yourself. Day after day, almost every member of the group (with the exception being Jughead) attempted to talk to you. They tried to coerce you into at least sitting with them at lunchtime. Each time you quickly shook your head, eyes returning to your book.

Weeks passed and the group was still no closer to getting you to even speak a word.

“I just don’t understand!” Veronica exclaimed as she slammed her lunch tray down on the table. “We’ve tried everything. Does she just not like us?”

Betty shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s what it is, V,” the blonde said. “She’s just really shy. Sometimes you can try everything only to have nothing work.”

Veronica groaned.

“She has a point,” Archie said as he took a bite of his apple. “Maybe we should just stop.”

As the group talked amongst themselves, Jughead watched you from a distance. Unlike the others, he had taken a personal interest in you. The raven-haired teen loved mysteries and you were one he wanted to crack.

Why did you move here? Why did you move here so late in the school year? Why were you so shy?

“I can try,” Jughead interrupted, silencing the entire group. “To talk to her, I mean.”

Archie sighed.

“Jug, I don’t know…” he began. “You tend to be… really upfront. What if you scare her away?”

Jughead snorted.

“Wow, thanks, Arch,” he remarked sarcastically. “Like you guys haven’t terrified her enough.”

With that, he was off and making his way over to your table.

“This isn’t going to end well.” Betty said.

Veronica sighed as she opened her bag of chips.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

You heard someone making their way over to you before you saw them. You gripped your book tighter, forcing your eyesight to stay on the small words. You wondered who it would be this time. Would it be the jock or one of the two cheerleaders? It wasn’t that you didn’t like them either, it was just that you were literally terrified to talk to them. They seemed so cool and you didn’t understand why they wanted to talk to someone like you.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You looked up from your book, your eyes meeting blue-green ones. Your heart skipped a beat once you saw who it was. Jughead Jones. The boy in your English class who you had a massive crush on. But of course, you could never find the courage to talk to him. If you couldn’t even talk to Veronica Lodge or Betty Cooper, arguably the nicest girls in the school, how were you supposed to talk to the boy you liked?

“Can I sit here?” Jughead asked.

You returned your gaze to your book, not answering. Jughead took a seat anyway.

“What’s your name?” the beanie-clad teen pressed.

Again, you didn’t answer.

“Well,” he sighed. “My name’s Jughead. I’m in your—”

“English class,” you said softly before you froze.

Jughead seemed equally surprised that you spoke.

“Yeah, I, um,” you began again, clearing your throat. “I know who you are.”

“Is she… talking to him?” Veronica asked incredulously.

Archie nodded.

“Looks like she is. Who would’ve guessed?” the ginger asked.

“But why?” Betty asked.

Archie frowned at her question.

“Why is she talking to Jughead?” he tried to clarify.

Betty shook her head.

“No, why is Jughead talking to her? When has he ever showed an interest in the new kids? He never showed an interest in Veronica.”

Veronica rolled her eyes.

“Thanks, Betty.” she joked.

“You know what I mean.” the Cooper girl said.

The three students returned their gazes to you and Jughead who were now talking and smiling amongst each other. At the moment, the bell rang signaling the end of the period. The gang saw you pack your stuff up as you and Jughead said your goodbyes. Jughead walked back over to the group with a smug smile on his face as you walked into the school.

“How?” Veronica asked once Jughead was close enough to hear her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asked as he picked up his book bag, swinging the strap over his shoulder.

Veronica smirked.

“I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with the fact you have a crush on her? And, oh, I don’t know, maybe she likes you too and you guys are going out to Pop’s after school to get a milkshake together?” she joked, improvising everything as she went along.

Betty and Archie laughed but Veronica didn’t miss the way she saw Jughead tense up for a fraction of a second.

“Very funny, Veronica.” he deadpanned.

Veronica’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “You like her!”

Jughead turned beet-red as Betty and Archie turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

“And she likes you! And you asked her out!” Veronica continued.

“God, Veronica, scream it to the world, would you?!” Jughead hissed as the four of them walked into the school.

Veronica went silent but couldn’t stop her beaming smile or the way she was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Aw, Juggie, this is so cute!” Betty squealed.

“Not bad, Jug.” Archie said as he clapped the writer on the back.

Jughead’s red face didn’t go away.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he mumbled. “I’ll see you guys later.”

With that he was gone, escaping to his next class.

“Our Juggie’s growing up.” Veronica said, wiping a fake tear from her eye.

“You’re so lucky he wasn’t around to hear that.”

—————

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please send me feedback! Thank you!

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The Real Infinity War

A/N: Enjoy this alternative to Infinity War with less feels.


Tony has created a chatroom.

Tony has added Bruce.

Tony: I have a science bro.

Tony has added Stephen.

Tony: I have an awesome facial hair bro.

Tony has added T'Challa.

Tony: I have a billionaire bro.

Tony has added Peter.

Tony: I have a kid bro.

Tony has added Y/N.

Tony: I have a best friend bro.

Tony has added Natasha.

Tony: I have a traitor bro.

Tony has added Vision.

Tony: I have a grankid bro.

Tony has added Steve.

Tony: I have an old bro.

Tony has added Rhodey.

Tony: I have a bro bro.

Tony: Get it, Rhodey? Because you’re like family to me.

Rhodey: Bro.

Tony: Bro.

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Just Friends | Jughead Jones x Reader

A\N: English is not my first language so I might make some mistakes, feel free to tell me if something’s wrong or what you think about this writing in general.

Originally posted by stydiaislove

It was a chilly autumn evening. (Y\n) was sitting on the couch in her room with a window slightly opened to let the fresh air come in. Everything was calm. Except her mind wasn’t. The silence was filling the room until the sound of a buzzing phone broke it. The girl came up to the table, took her phone and unblocked it. There was a message from one of her bestfriends, Kevin.


    From Kev: “Hey, you okay?”


   She definetely wasn’t okay. And he definetely knew it. All of her friends noticed that something was wrong with her because of how she acted like when they all were hanging out at the Pop’s diner. She wasn’t acting completely different. She smiled a lot, as she always did, but her smile was fading away too quickly this time. If her and Jughead or Betty made eye contact she would immideately break it and look down at the table. There were these little but noticable things that made everyone realise that she wasn’t in the best mood. Though not all of the friends were able to figure out the reason why. 

   So, she spent the past few hours in her room thinking about how everything went so horribly wrong, blaming herself for this and crying from time to time.
   The girl sat back on the couch and typed. 


   To Kev: “I don’t think so”


   She decided to be honest. There was no point of hiding her feelings. If she would say that she’s fine, Kevin wouldn’t believe it. He knew her too well.
   The friends recently found out that Betty and Jughead were together. Betty Cooper. Her bestfriend. (Y\n) was truly glad that Betty found someone who made her happy, because she definetly deserved it. But now everything felt so wrong and hurt so bad, and she didn’t know what to do about it. 


   From Kev: “Can I come over?”


   Kevin was the only one who knew about her feelings. (Y\n) didn’t wanted to tell anybody at all, it was just an accident. But she knew she could trust Kevin with that. Everyone else, Betty included, just thought that there was some kind of connection between the two. But recently (Y\n) and Jughead started seeing each other less often. It didn’t mean that the connection dissapeared, it just didn’t have the chance to show up again. 


   To Kev: “Sure, it’d be nice to see you”


   Betty and Jughead, on the other hand, started hanging out with each other a lot more often while working on the murder board, trying to get more information about Betty’s sister, Polly, and the mistery of Jason Blossom’s death. And it lead them to being something more than just friends.
From Kev: “I’ll buy us some milkshakes at Pop’s. See you in an hour x”
   Lina read the message and it made her smile a bit. 


   To Kev: “Thanx. Love u”


   From Kev: “Love you, too" 


   She blocked the phone and put it on the couch next to her. Thoughts started to crowd round in her head again and she felt a lump in her throat. The girl couldn’t help it and let herself cry. After a couple of minutes she calmed down. Then she suddenly heard her phone buzzing again. She picked it up and read the message. 


    From Juggie: "Come outside, please, I need to talk to you”


    (Y\n)’s heart raised. She didn’t expect Jughead to come to her or to even text her. At least not anymore, not when they fell apart. She thought that now he had more important things to do, different people to care about and to talk to. Anyways, she came downstairs, put her slip-ons on and walked ouside.
   And there he was, standing beside an empty road in his black jeans, boots, green sweater, light denim jacket and overworn grey beanie giving her a little side smile as she walked out of the house.
“Hi,” she greeted him for the second time this day, smiling.
“Hi,” he greeted back.
   There were a few seconds of silence. (Y\n) stood beside the door, arms crossed over her chest. She was looking down at the stairs. He was looking directly at her.
“So… You wanted to talk?” She finally asked, not letting the silence become awkward.
“Yeah, yeah… I… Are you feeling alright?” Jughead said and came a little bit closer.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “Why would you ask?”
“Uhm, It’s just… You were looking kind of upset when we were at Pop’s.”
“It’s nothing, don’t bother,” she lied again.
“Are you sure?” He gave her a look.
    (Y\n) just nodded and looked down at the stairs again. Jughead came closer and sat on the doorstep, turned around inviting her to do the same. So she did. The girl sat on the same doorstep but much further from him than she usually did. She just felt like she didn’t have the right to be as close to him anymore. And the thought of that suppressed her. She was looking everywhere - at the trees, at her shoes, at her hands, at the sky… Everywhere, but not at him.
“(Y\n),” he spoke, looking at her. She finally faced him.
“Yeah?”
   He wanted to say something, but didn’t do it straight away, trying to figure out the most right way of saying it.
“Is it because of me and Betty?” Jughead asked. (Y\n) turned away. A wave of shivers went down her spine. She didn’t expect him to know about that.
   Once again, there was no point of hiding anything. He already knew. That was it.
“How did you know?” She asked.
“To be honest, I wasn’t really sure until now.”
   She tried hard not to cry. They both kept silent.
“I’m sorry,” Jughead said. She couldn’t help it anymore. A few tears streamed down her cheeks.
“There’s nothing you sould be sorry about, Juggie,” (Y\n) answered, wiping the tears away.
“Maybe, but… I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know. And you never did,” she was desperately trying to calm hersef down.
“Well, I don’t think I can explain this situation in any other way that that.”
“It’s not your fault, Juggie. It’s mine. You did nothing wrong. I just…” (Y\n) said, her voice shaking and more tears falling down her face.
   As much as Jughead wanted to hug her, comfort her, be closer to her, and as much as she wanted him to do it now, he couldn’t. They both knew it would only make it worse.
“I should go. I don’t want to bother you, Jug. You don’t have to deal with all of this,” she pointed at her blubbered face with her hands. “You already have enough shit to deal with.”
   She stood up as she said that. Jughead stood up aswell, took her by the the shoulders stopping her from turning around and walking away.
“But I do, I do have to,” he said, looking into her eyes.
   She pursed her lips together and shook her head no.
“Yes, I do, (Y\n)… Because we’re friends,” Jughead said regretting his words as soon as they slipped out of his mouth.
   Friends. Just friends.
“Yeah… Friends,” she nodded. “Thanks for coming, Juggie, but I really think I should go. I’ll try to get over it. I’ll be fine.”
    (Y\n) looked him right in the eyes, gently put his hands off her shoulders, smiled slightly, and came back to the house.
   The girl came upstairs and walked into her room. She stood up beside the table and started crying even harder covering her face with her hands. Jughead was looking at her from the street through the opened window and his heart was breaking into million pieces as he heard her cry. Luckily, he had someone who could fix it.

Ed Sheeran - ERASER (lyrics) Extended F64 Version

[Verse 1]
I was born inside a small town, I’ve lost that state of mind
Learned to sing inside the Lord’s house, but stopped at the age of nine
I forget when I get awards now the wave I had to ride
The paving stones I played upon, they kept me on the grind
So blame it on the pain that blessed me with the life
Friends and family filled with envy when they should be filled with pride
And when the world’s against me is when I really come alive
And everyday that Satan tempts me, I try to take it in my stride
You know that I’ve got whisky with white lines and smoke in my lungs
I think life has got to the point I know without it’s no fun
I need to get in the right mind and clear myself up
Instead, I look in the mirror questioning what I’ve become
I guess it’s a stereotypical day for someone like me
Without a nine-to-five job or an uni degree
To be caught up in the trappings of the industry
They showed me the locked doors I find another use of key
And you’ll see

[Chorus 1]
I’m well aware of certain things that will destroy a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am happy on my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin’ arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 2]
I used to think that nothing could be better than touring the world with my songs
I chased the pictured perfect life, I think they painted it wrong
I think that money is the root of evil and fame is hell
Relationships and hearts you fixed, they break as well
And ain’t nobody wanna see you down in the dumps
Because you’re living your dream, man, this shit should be fun
Please know that I’m not trying to preach like I’m Reverend Run
I beg you, don’t be disappointed with the man I’ve become
Our conversations with my father on the A14
Age twelve telling me I’ve gotta chase those dreams
Now I’m playing for the people, dad, and they know me
With my beat and small guitar wearing the same old jeans
Wembley Stadium crowd two hundred and forty thou
I may have grown up but I hope that Damien’s proud
And to the next generation, inspiration’s allowed
The world may be filled with hate but keep erasing it now
Somehow

[Chorus 2]
I’m well aware of certain things that will befall a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am not beyond my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 3]
I woke up this morning lookin’ in the mirror
Thinkin’ to myself that I should probably be thinner
The industry told me to look like them
But I found my happiness in fried food for my dinner
I wish that she could have been my first time
And I wish that I’d never took that first line
And I wish that every word in this verse rhymed
But forgive me if it doesn’t
I wish that I could make peace with my older cousin
I wish he didn’t think that it was me when it wasn’t
I wish I didn’t love it when I’m high and my face feels buzzin’
And the taste stays underneath my tongue
Wish that I had known what to do as a youngling
Wish I hadn’t dropped out of school and missed every single party
With that hardly matters now, man, does it?
Wish I had an answer to everything, but fuck it
I wish creatin’ art didn’t come with a budget
But while we’re on the subject
I wish my private life would have never gone public
But that’s the sacrifice that we make
Spendin’ my whole time high livin’ life away

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 4]
I wish my family and friends they stay healthy
I wish that love was a currency and the whole world was wealthy
I found myself late night wishin’ on a star
Everyday I wish I’d never broken a heart, uh
And I wish I’d never run to
Every woman that I loved that kept my life and what it’s come to
I wish I was the role model you looked up to
If I told my fans the things I did they’d say, “Fuck you”
I wish I was home more
I wish my teens could see the kids on the birthdays, but yo, we’re on tour
And I wish I’d grow more, wish I told more
People that I love ‘em but it’s in the music that I’m known for
And I wish he never got cancer
And if I smoke a pack a day, well, does that make me a wanker?
Oh yes, I guess it does, and we’re still stressin’ 'cause
Every day this shit gets the best of us
Usin’ my balance on eraser blades
Spendin’ my whole time high wishing life would wait

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 5]
I’m using jumpers for goalposts, cigarettes for throat cold
Mum sayin’, “Don’t smoke,” no, I don’t listen, I got
Love for a ghost note, shows on the gold coast
People that I don’t know share the same vision
I find truth in the hard times and words that aren’t mine
Tryin’ to find a love with a compatible star sign
Sometimes I can’t write, sentences can’t rhyme
Starin’ at my notepad quick, I’m tryin’ to find mine
Shit, quick before I hit it again
Surrounded in the industry by all these ignorant men
And who knew that I’d be paid just to pick up a pen
Just let me hit the studio when we can rip it again
I’m a competitive dick, with an adrenaline kick
My daddy told me work hard and you can never be shit
I’ve seen all my heroes dethroned except my dad
Set back here reminiscing 'bout the times we had
One wish


(x)

Yuri on Ice BD choreography commentary translation - Volume 3

I’m alive… There were too many things this month, I can’t believe we’re already halfway through. Anyway, finally, here’s the full translation of the choreography commentary from the BD/DVD vol.3. The commentary is by Kenji Miyamoto & Mitsurou Kubo, as usual. This time it’s Minami’s FS, Phichit’s SP, Leo’s SP and Chris’ SP. More programs so of course it’s longer than usual.

Notes:
-It’s two people talking, not a written interview, so expect them to hop from one subject to another within the same sentence… Even if it sounds a bit unconnected at times, that’s how they said it.
-I still arranged it a little to make it easier to understand as written material, by removing lots of “ehm” “uuhm” “you know” “yes” (I especially removed all instances where someone says “yes” in the middle of the other speaking) and fumbled words.
-Amusingly enough both their initials are KM/MK, but I used the surname initials so M is Miyamoto and K is Kubo.
-I put (LOL) when they’re laughing because otherwise some lines might sound serious while they’re actually joking.

***VERY IMPORTANT***
Do NOT use this translation for subtitles, in ANY way.
I don’t support the upload of bonuses contained in BDs/DVDs, as they are meant to be (as the word says) bonuses for the people who spent money to purchase them. If you like a series so much that you absolutely need to watch the bonus contents, please buy the BDs/DVDs.

Translation under the cut since it’s twice the usual length.


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Last First Kiss

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 8k 

Summary: Peter has a terrible night at Liz Allen’s party until he meets (Y/N) the new girl at midtown. 

Warnings: None 

“This was it”, Peter thought; tonight is the night. He’s going to finally ask Liz to the homecoming dance at her party. Peter was asking Aunt May for some pointers before he even got out the car, “Should I ask her to go on a date first? When’s the perfect time to ask her?” He rambled on and on. Ned and Aunt May both shushed him; he was so nervous for tonight. Peter just didn’t know how or when to shut up.

“Maybe, this is stupid. Let’s just go back home May and forget all this happened.” May locked the doors and rolled up her windows before Peter could get back in the car. “Peter, you’re going to go in there and tell Liz how you feel and if she doesn’t feel the same then it’s okay. Just as long as you were brave enough to say something.” She gave him a small lecture; sure she was like his best friend but she also knew how to be the grown up in these types of situations.

She began to drive away from the house; Peter took a deep breathe in and out and his palms were sweaty from all the nerves.


Peter and Ned made their way up to the steps of Liz’s door; letting themselves in. The pair both took in the whole scene of their first high school party.  

Peter’s eyes land on the beautiful Liz walking up to them, “hey guys! Thanks for coming to my party. Glad to have you here.” She gave both of them a genuine smile and then walked off to greet other people. Peter was flabbergasted; Liz had talked to him for the first time. This time it wasn’t Peter who is always asking her stupid questions or complimenting her outfits. “You’re a great party host Liz,” Ned nudged him basically telling him to shut up.

Ned turned to look at Peter; him shocked as he was. “Peter, close your mouth and stop staring before you look like a creep.” He did just that and then averted his attention to his best friend.

“Oh, right yeah. Sorry.” He apologized.


The whole night, Peter was trying to find Liz or just try and get alone but she was always MIA. He finally decided to give up; “maybe next year,” he thought. Peter was ready to go home but he couldn’t find his cowboy hat wearing friend. Peter searched for him all over the house and rooms; until he went up to the last room only to find Liz making out with the captain of the football team.

Peter was heartbroken; sure he knew he didn’t have a chance with her, but seeing her making out with some guy in front of his eyes was a sight he wanted to watch.

Ned finally called up Peter, “Peter! I totally forgot to tell you, but I left like an hour ago. I wasn’t feeling the party scene. So mom picked me up, sorry for giving you such a short notice. I’m sure it’s going great though.” Peter took a huge breathe in; trying not to cry. “Yeah, don’t worry Ned! Everything is going great. I’ll tell you all about it on Monday.” He tried hard to sound enthusiastic but this whole night was a bust and Peter didn’t want to Ned to feel bad. 

After getting off the phone with Ned; Peter sulked all the way to a small bench the new girl from school was sitting at.“Do you mind if I sat here with you?” Peter asked her pointing at the small bench. “Oh yeah, of course.” She scooted over to make some room for the unknown boy. After a moment of silence, (Y/N) finally introduced herself to him. “I’m (Y/N), I just felt like I should introduce myself to you.” She was rambling because she wasn’t good at making small talk and especially if she has to talk to the cute boy from her AP bio class. 

She noticed he seemed like he was in another planet, “are you okay? Why aren’t you inside enjoying the party?” (Y/N) didn’t mean to pry into his life but she liked helping people. “Oh sorry about that, I am Peter. I think we have bio together, right?” He apologized again which seemed to be the 10th time in one night, “also why aren’t you inside?” Raising his eyebrow at her. 

“I’m not going to lie, I never really wanted to be here and parties aren’t really my thing. Flash invited me; he’s been trying to hit on me ever since I started at Midtown High. I told my mom and she made me come; she thinks it’d be good for me. Oh, Peter. I’m so sorry for just throwing this at you.” She felt really bad; considering they just met and she was just throwing her issues at him. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize to me. I don’t mind listening,” he chuckled. Peter wasn’t sure why but he felt like he could tell her anything; she just had this certain type of vibe to her. “I was going to confess to Liz Allen tonight, but I found her making out with the captain of the football. Then my best friend left without telling me and I don’t have a ride home.” He confessed about everything that happened on this crappy night to (Y/N). 


There was a moment of awkward silence but (Y/N) pulled out her car keys and jumped out of her seat, “let’s go Peter.” He was speechless; didn’t know what to say or do. Peter just sat their for a couple of minutes. Is he really going to go somewhere with a girl he barely knows?

He thought, why the hell not? What is she going to do to him?

The pair both walked out of the party together; Peter trailed a little behind her. It took a while to find her car, considering most of the kids at the school were there. They finally found her car; (Y/N) getting into the driver seat and Peter getting into the passenger seat. She just began to drive; not even asking what Peter’s address was.

“Do you uh need my address?” He finally broke the silence, “I’m not taking you home yet. But don’t worry I’m not going to kidnap you.” She laughed at how nervous he looked; ready to jump out of his bones. “I’m just taking you to a diner I’ve been going to ever since I first moved here; their sundaes are to die for. And plus, I think after tonight you might need some ice cream.”


“So, who’s your favorite superhero?” Peter asked her, while he took another bite of his hot fudge sundae. “In all honesty, I’m going to have to say Captain America. Not because he’s hot but because he honestly just kicks ass! What about you Peter?” The whole night, the pair were slowly forgetting about how they ended up in a small diner in the bronx but they both didn’t mind. (Y/N) was glad, she gave into going to the party. 

“I gotta say Spider-man, have you seen that butt?” (Y/N) busted out laughing; her laugh was just so contagious that he started laughing as well. They got some dirty looks from the waitresses, but they just continued to laugh and be carefree. The two both loved having each other’s presence around and they didn’t want to leave the diner’s little booth. 


“Well, it’s pretty late. I think I should be heading out soon,” Peter suggested. “My aunt’s going to be worried.” He got up to pay for their sundaes, “also I think I can just walk from here.”

(Y/N) didn’t want him to leave, but it was nearly 2 AM so what could she have done? “Peter, I’m driving you. I insisted on taking you here; I should be the one that takes you home.” She said matter of factly. Peter didn’t even try to fight back; he was tired and he didn’t want to admit but he wanted to spend more time with (Y/N) and get to know her more.

The two finally made their to Peter’s small apartment in Queens, “well here it is.” Peter said pointing at the apartments. 

“Thanks a lot, this really meant a lot.” Peter thanked (Y/N) and was about to exit the car until she stopped him, “I had a really great time. Maybe we can do this again? Unless you don’t want to but it’d be nice to make another friend from school.” She was rambling which Peter thought was quite cute. “Yeah, let’s totally do this again. I had a great time.” He gave her a genuine smile but didn’t get out the car yet; a comfortable silence just filled her small car.

(Y/N) yanked him by his collar and kissed him on his lips; Peter was shocked but he didn’t stop her. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me; it’s totally fine if you don’t wanna see me again.” 

Peter, himself finally did an impulse decision. He kissed her again; cutting her off when she was in the middle of her rant.

“Would you like to go to homecoming?” He looked outside her window; afraid of rejection. “Well I’m going to have to check my schedule, and it says yes.” She joked with him. 

He pecked her again on the lips, “Goodnight (Y/N). I’ll see you at school.”

—–

a/n: i hoped you guys enjoyed thisssss :)))

playing with fire (5) | taehyung

Originally posted by sugapium

genre: fluff, fuckboy taehyung, smut

pairing: taehyung x reader 

summary: you knew what you were in for, but it was too late to get out. besides, it’s not like you wanted to anyways. 

last chapter: part four 



   Lately, you were starting to like Taehyung’s company. He was more chill around you, and not as annoying as he used to be. But also his annoying and childish side was adorable to watch. You couldn’t believe it yourself. Not too long ago, you despised this boy for being able to breathe. Now the two of you were becoming somewhat, friends


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Seven and yoosung's reaction to mc beating their rank on LOLOL? (I love your writing)

Author’s note: HERE’S SOME CUTE FLUFF STUFF || I really like this one ok

Yoosung

  • “MC, COME HERE!!!”
  • You sighed and put down the book you were reading
  • Yoosung was sitting in his gaming chair and pointing at the screen
  • “What are you pointing at?”
  • “THIS PERSON BEAT MY RANK!!”
  • “Oh?”
  • He dramatically spun around
  • “YOU SHOULD BE JUST AS MAD AS I AM!!! YOU’VE BEEN TRYING TO BEAT ME SINCE YOU STARTED PLAYING, AND NOW YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO BEAT THIS PERSON TOO!!”
  • You chuckled and walked up to your boyfriend, kissing his forehead
  • “Check the name again.”
  • Yoosung sighed
  • “It says, ‘MysteriousMC101’ and-”
  • He stopped reading and looked at you
  • “IS THAT USERNAME?!?!”
  • You smiled and nodded
  • Yoosung returned your smile, and stood up
  • He ran and gave you a quick hug, before tilting your chin up
  • He closed the gap as if he was going to kiss you, but stopped just short of your lips
  • “Looks like I have some work to do.”
  • He gave you a quick peck before sitting back down
  •  
  • You walked into his computer room with a smirk on your face

707

  • Seven was playing LOLOL, so you stood behind him
  • “I got you a Dr. Pepper,” you said, placing it on his desk
  • Without looking away from the screen, he grabbed the can and opened it with one hand (he’s had lots of practice)
  • “Thanks, but why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”
  • You leaned down next to his ear
  • “Because I just whooped your ass in LOLOL and beat your rank.”
  • Before you could relish in the moment your idiot boyfriend SPIT OUT HIS DRINK ALL OVER THE MONITOR
  • “oh SHIT!”
  • Seven scrambled around, trying to contain the spill
  • You ran to get towel and came back to help him clean
  • When the two of you finished, he turned to you
  • “So, you ‘whooped my ass,’ huh?”
  • You dropped the towel on his lap
  • “It sure seems that way.”
  • You turned to walk away and
  • WHIP
  • “SEVEN DID YOU JUST SMACK MY ASS WITH A DIRTY ROLLED UP TOWEL?”
  • “…No, I ‘whooped’ it.”
Playing With Winchester

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Request: Hi! Congrats on your Writing Anniversary! I had this idea that maybe the reader asks Dean to help he train but he notices she’s doing it to help her insecurities? If that even makes sense. Thanks so much if you do!

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language

A/N: This one got away from me in a good way…


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The Joker x Reader -“ELLIS”

Nothing is ever easy with him, but this time he really crossed the line. If The Joker doesn’t care about anything at all, what is the point of you two being together? Unless…maybe he gives a damn about at least one thing.

You always drive back to Gotham on lonely, deserted roads, trying to avoid traffic as much as possible.

“J, we’re close to our cabin, we should stop and spend the night; just me and you, yes?” you smile, attempting to be cheerful and lightening up the mood.

“I don’t feel like it!” he bitterly replies, keeping his eyes on the road.

“We’re almost at the turn we have to take to get there. Come on… please?”

“NO! I told you I don’t feel like it!” he snarls, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel. You place your hand on his thigh, caressing it with your thumb:

“Baby, it’s not my fault the meeting didn’t go well.”

He pushes your hand away, still fuming. You look outside the window and take a deep breath, watching the sun going down behind the trees.

“J, come on, don’t be like this…You know I love you,” you tilt your head towards him, hoping he will change his mind.

“Right!!” he scoffs with a sour expression on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, getting restless.

“It means whatever you want it to mean!” the Joker snaps, quickly glancing your way.“You don’t love me, nobody does!” he hisses, being in such a foul mood he can barely concentrate on driving.

“Yeah…I wonder why…” you mutter but he heard you and it makes him even more enraged. You start massaging your temples; you really don’t need this after all the stuff that happened lately.

“J…why did we get married?” you ask, closing your eyes, thinking how much you wish your lives were different.

“Because we’re idiots, Y/N, that’s why!” he angrily raises his voice, accelerating. “Thank God you had the miscarriage three months ago because the kid would have probably had your attitude. I don’t think I could handle two of you!”

He hears you sniffle and your voice breaks down when you address him:

“Why…why do you say such cruel things?” and you start sobbing, deeply hurt by his words. “Stop the car…” you manage to speak through tears. “Stop the car!!!!” you suddenly hit the window with your first and he slams the breaks, unnerved.

You get out fast, taking your wedding ring off and tossing it in his lap:

“Here, consider yourself divorced!” you slam the door, frantically wiping your tears. He just grunts, annoyed and screams back at you:
“Fine! I don’t need you anyway!”

“I don’t need you either!” you yell, whimpering, feeling so miserable you can’t wait for him to go away.

“I hope you die in these woods!” The Joker growls, taking off in a frenzy, aggravated.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction!” you shout, crossing your arms on your tummy, watching him disappear in the distance. You turn around and start walking back towards the hidden unpaved, unmarked road that leads to your cabin. It should be about 10-15 minutes away by foot. You recently passed the spot by car so it shouldn’t be too far. Add about 2 more hours of walking until you reach the destination and you should be there before it gets really dark.

You walk rather slow, deep in thought; being outdoors does make you feel a little bit better. It takes you more than 2 hours, but you are finally at the hideout. You go inside and turn the lights on, looking through your supplies to see what you could munch on. You decide to make a tea and wrap yourself in a blanket, then head out to the porch so you can enjoy the silence you crave so badly.

You have your little backpack with you and search inside until you find the ultrasound picture you kept from when it was confirmed you were pregnant. Your eyes get teary again and you kiss the small image, talking to yourself:
“He only wishes you would have been like me…” you sadly smile and your grieving is interrupted by the sound of tires approaching.

Oh, no, what is he doing here? you panic, covering your head with the hoodie in a failed effort to calm down.

He gets out of the car and slams the door as hard as he can, staring you down.

“W-what are you doing here?” you inquire, shriveling down under your fluffy cover. J walks the stairs up to the porch, barking your way:

“I wanted to see if you died on your way here this way I can bury you. It would have given me great pleasure.”

“I’m not sorry to disappoint,” you sneer, still holding the little picture to your chest.

“What’s that?” The Joker points towards it, even if he already has an idea.

“Nothing you care about…”, you chew on your words, making an extra effort to keep your composure as you return your treasure to the backpack.

He takes a seat on the bench that’s the furthest from you, legs up on the railing, trying to light up a cigarette when you unexpectedly rush to yank it out of his hand and toss it to the ground, stepping on it:

“You quit two years ago!”

“Give it a rest before you make me mad!” J growls, taking out the full pack of cigarettes but you snatch it from him, breaking and tearing it to pieces, frustrated about everything and taking it on his nasty habit.

He takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper and warns you:

“Stop your shit, Y/N, you’re pissing me off!”

You don’t even care and continue:

“Go back to Gotham, I want to be alone! I don’t want you here, go away!” you shriek through your clenched teeth, heading back inside, trying not to cry.

“I don’t care about what you want; this is my hideout too!” you hear him grumble and don’t care for the rest since you step inside the bathroom, closing the door. You are so ready for a shower and a bit of sleep to calm down the tension you feel in every muscle of your body.

15 minutes into it and J parts the curtain to the side, making you jump since you didn’t hear him sneak in.

“Make room, I want to take a shower too,” he commands, getting inside.

“Go take a shower in the other bathroom!” you plead, irritated he’s so inconsiderate.

“I like this one better!” he kind of shoves you to the side, getting under the warm water.

“Fine, you can have it!” you give up, grabbing your towel and step outside when he tries to snatch you.

“Where are you going? I wanna wash your hair!” he angrily yells after you, unhappy you’re defiant…again.

“I already washed it myself!” you slam the door and J continues his tirade, tossing shampoo and body wash bottles around the bathtub in his tantrum.  

I just need some peace and quiet, why can’t I have that? you think while resting your back against the door for a few seconds, sensing your anxiety is going to reach new levels soon.

The Joker took his time in there but now he’s finally done. He searches for you inside the cabin but you are not there. He peeks out of the window and notices you are dozing off on the couch to the left side of the porch, covered in blankets. Perfect time to rant some more, you are definitely going to hear about how much you annoyed him today!

But when he sees you are in a deep sleep, something stops him. The corner of the ultrasound picture sticks out a bit from under your pillow and he slowly pulls it out, glaring at it for a few good minutes before putting it back with a remorseful sigh. He takes a deep breath and grabs more blankets from the pile on the table and covers you with them, keeping just one for himself. J also brings the gun from the car and seats on the chair next to yours, awake all night because he believes a wild animal might creep up on you.

When the first rays of sunshine pierce through the thick fog, he finally loses the battle and closes his eyes, exhausted. He wakes up three hours later, wrapped in a dozen blankets, not feeling the cold he braved last night anymore; it gets so chilly in these woods after sunset.

He finds breakfast and hot coffee inside but you are gone again. Probably hiking at your favorite spot, J assumes, munching on a few goodies from his plate. You’ve been away for a while and he decides to search for you, he doesn’t even know why. You aren’t too far, just about a mile away behind the cabin, legs crossed in the grass, reading a magazine under your umbrella and enjoying the warm temperature. You hear him approach and you don’t lift your eyes up. He doesn’t say a word and just imitates your position a few steps away from you.

“What are you doing?” you coldly question him, not thrilled of his presence.

“Nothing,” The Joker barely bothers to answer.

You exhale, turning the page and fighting not to pay attention to his nonsense:

“You can’t stay in the sun, you know you burn easily,” you grunt, indirectly inviting him to get lost.

“So? Why do you care? Mind your own business!” and he lets himself go on his back, enjoying the hot sun.

“You’ll burn badly, go in the shadow,” J distinguishes your low voice urging him to move.

He ignores your warning and after a few more moments he opens his eyes to see your umbrella by his head, shielding half of his body from the sun and you walking away.

She’s so obnoxious, I really hate her, is the last thought he has before closing his eyes again and falling asleep shortly after since he’s so tired.

************

You are nowhere to be found. The Joker searched the cabin and around it but you vanished.

Good, maybe she fell from a cliff and my problems are done, he maliciously grins, relieved and hoping for his wish to come true, but after a few seconds the evil smile freezes on his lips as he notices your backpack is gone. And the small post-it on the fridge he didn’t see before makes him cringe:

“I’m going back to Gotham.”  

Crazy woman, walking alone in the woods, J growls, taking the car keys out of his pocket and heading outside.

*************

You discern the sound of the engine getting closer and closer and quicken your pace, not understanding why you can’t have a moment to yourself when you are very entitled to it. He passes you by and turns the car sideways, slamming on the breaks, gets out of the car and awaits your arrival, his blue eyes so dark it would make you hesitate on your decision.

Yet you avoid looking at him and attempt to go around when he rolls his eyes, fed up with your behavior and stomps towards you, lifting you up and slamming you on the hood, making you seat there against your will while you struggle to get down. J is blocking your way, not budging when you struggle to escape.

“Where are you going, hm? Are you really trying to get on my nerves?” he pins your hands behind your back, watching tears of frustrations forming in your eyes but you are too strong to let him win and swallow your vexation, finally looking at him.

“I’m walking back to Gotham,” you mutter, defying his blue gaze.

“It’s a long walk, Doll,” he pushes you up on the hood even more, making sure you can’t move.

“Why do you care? You don’t care about anything, not even…about…”  and you can’t control yourself anymore and start sobbing, thinking about the mean things he said to you yesterday that hurt you so much. J knows exactly what you are referring to and sucks on his cheeks, gulping, finally speaking up on the subject:

“I did care about that…”

You shake your head in denial, whimpering, dismissing his words so he repeats:

“I did care about that.”

“N-no you d-didn’t,” you cry harder and The Joker sets your hands free, backing out just a bit so you can slide down towards him.

“I did, I cared about that,” he insists, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm to point out the huge “ELLIS” tattoo on his forearm. “Why do you think I got the name on my skin and didn’t remove it? I will always keep it, do you hear me? I did care…” his voice breaks a bit and wipes your tears, lifting your chin up, forcing you to look at him again.

Ellis is the name you two picked for the baby when you found out you were pregnant, fit for a boy or a girl. You were so excited and over the moon you didn’t have patience to wait any longer. But it wasn’t meant to be…

Since you can’t stop crying and he grows impatient, J yanks you in his arms, hugging you while you want to push him away.

“I did care…” he continues to whisper in your ear over and over again until he feels your body relaxing and your arms go around his waist, hugging him back really tight. Since you still won’t stop crying, he caresses your hair, tightening his grip on you too. He senses tears menacing to roll down his cheeks but he brushes the awkward feeling away, because it’s not like him to show any weakness. Instead, he chooses to be The Joker and he has to admit to himself it really takes a lot of effort this time around:

“…Say, Princess, are we still divorced?”

“U-hum,” you manage to squeal, sobbing on his chest.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping to get some tonight,” and he kind of sadly smiles when you pinch his side.” Since I’m here and you’re here, can we at least have an affair?”

“Stop your stupid jokes,” you scold him, sniffling. He kisses your temple and helps you down, regaining his posture, but still holds your hand.

He seems surprised when you push yourself against his body and make him pay attention to what you have to say:

“You can lash out at me, but…” and your voice shakes ”…you can’t say anything mean about our poor baby, do you hear me?” There is so much pain and grief in your voice that he has no choice but to nod yes.

“Don’t ever say anything mean about Ellis… promise?” and you cup his face, waiting for the answer.

“I promise,” he agrees so fast he shocks himself.

“Good then, now you are allowed to drive me back to Gotham,” you announce and take your backpack off, going around the car to get in on the passenger’s side. “Did you lock the cabin?”

“I did,” J reports and can’t help bickering as he starts to drive away:

Allowed to drive you back, Pumpkin?! Like it’s what, a privilege??!!”

“Damn right it is!” you raise your voice and look out the window, ignoring the outburst.

“Pffttt, lucky me…” he grumbles but takes your hand and kisses it. You don’t object and scoot over towards him, silently leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kitten, are we still divorced? Or do you want your ring back? I have it in my jacket.”

“I guess you’re allowed to give it back to me when we get home,” you decide with an indifferent tone.

Allowed to give it back??! Like it’s what, a privilege??!” he mocks, taking the turn towards the main road.

“Damn right it is!” you elbow him and he frowns, aggravated:

“Pffttt, lucky me…”

“You are lucky!” you cut him off, lifting your eyebrows with an attitude.

“Maybe just a little bit…” he admits and it makes you smirk, clenching to his arm even more.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You’ll Be Okay, I Promise. (Jughead x Reader)

Request// Jughead x Reader Imagine, instead of Cheryl trying to kill herself, it’s both the reader and Cheryl. They split up to make it harder to find them, and the gang finds Cheryl, but not reader on time

Warnings- you already know how depressing my imagines can get :) but I’ll clarify anyways. Suicide attempt, and suicidal thoughts.

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anonymous asked:

I think I'm gonna end it all today. I just wish I wouldn't leave people sad.

We both know that there’s nothing I can sincerely do to help you through this via anon ask. If generic encouragement and advice that could apply to anyone is going to affect you, you wouldn’t need to reach out personally, and these things are so much deeper and more complex than cookie cutter positivity can solve.

If you’re telling me this because you know that I can’t help and you find safety in the fact that I can’t stop you or “tell on you”, I encourage you to seek out somebody who can talk you through this in the involved, personal way you deserve and need right now.

Alternately, please come off anon so we can discuss this privately. (I think only mutuals can privately message me, but I’ll follow you so we can talk; don’t worry about it being an inconvenience because your safety is more important than worrying about bothering an internet stranger. It’s okay. I promise.)

There are so many things I want to tell you right now, but I’m just not sure it’ll help without a firm grasp of your situation.

You haven’t upset me or triggered me, but for future reference, please note that I lost my mother and eldest brother to suicide, and have survived a suicide attempt, so this is something I have an intricate understanding of from both sides. I don’t take this lightly, and confessions like this aren’t just going to be brushed off as another attention-seeking teenager. I want to help, and I want to know you’re okay.

You. Not your friends or family, because of course they’d miss you horribly, but if you’re at the point where suicide seems like the answer, you’ve got more to worry about than hurting people’s feelings.

One thing I can say, that I wish somebody had said to me, is think of it this way: Death is so… final, anon. It’s forever. I know you know that, but Christ, it bears repeating.

I always thought of mental illness as something terminal. Not really a matter of if I’d hurt myself, but when. Johnny made it to his mid-twenties, my mother to her late forties. It became a question of how long would I last before I got too sick, you know?

So, as cliché as this is, I really do have to live like I might die tomorrow.

It’s fucked to think of it this way, but I always know suicide is an option. Like, nobody can stop it from being an option. It’s always in the back of my head. But, anon? Once you press that button, you’re done. That’s it. No turning back.

So, you might as well try to change things while you can. Try one more solution before you take a scorched earth approach. Like time travel or dimension hopping, you know? If things get beyond royally fucked, there’s an out. But are you really at that point? Of course not. I don’t think anybody really ever should be.

Because if you’re going to die, anyhow, go into that big, empty, white void of nothing, then what’s one more month compared to eternity? One more new medication, or a new therapist, or being honest with your friends and parents? It’s not like people can judge you so much that death stops existing.

One more sunset, or one new band you haven’t listened to, or one new person you haven’t kissed, or a painting that was always in your head, or an experience you haven’t had, or a place you’ve never been. You can see if this helps, and take as long as you need, and death isn’t going anywhere. You can press that button at any time. So, why not just try living for a little longer? What’s the worst that can happen? Maybe things don’t improve in six months, sure, but that doesn’t make death less permanent. You’re not on a time crunch. If there’s really nothing you can do to make life bearable, then that’s that, I suppose. But I doubt you’ve tried everything. I doubt you’ve tried half the things, and so maybe something does work. Maybe things get better instead.

Maybe they get so good that, “I’m going to stay alive until my cat dies because he needs me to take care of him,” turns into, “I’m going to stay alive until my wedding, because maybe this is a whole new life for me,” turns into, “I’m going to stay alive because things are so much more beautiful than I ever could have imagined and I’m so, so fucking glad that I stayed.”

I know I’m glad I stayed. I really can’t stress enough that happiness comes from the weirdest places, from places you can’t even imagine existing for you right now. It came to me from taking a break from college, something I’d been told my whole life was the best place for me, to juggle professionally and design demolition derby cars and learn taxidermy and do stand-up and get weirdly into indie wrestling and play D&D and write stories and break my nose in hockey games. Like, there’s so, so much and it’s so, so worth it. I promise.

Anyhow, even if you do so on anon, please let me know how you’re doing. I’d really like to talk to you more, but I won’t press it. I hope you decide to stay. Take care of yourself. Please.