because she is the greatest

So Rick used to worry about young Beth coming across a neighbor or a defenseless animal. At her request, he invented tons of creepy things to keep her busy, including Floopyland itself. One of the items he made for her was “a teddy bear with anatomically correct organs” or something along those lines.

Hey, who’s just now realizing Beth didn’t become a surgeon because she’s smart, she became a surgeon because she likes CUTTING THINGS OPEN AND PLAYING WITH THEIR INSIDES?

x by 무구포
Permission to repost was granted by the artist.

the chills and thrills that come with baking | yoonji

genre: fluff
warnings: none! :)
words: 1.6k

a/n: this is a drabble that is in the same au as ‘when I met you’ !! now with more jealous yoonji for the soul!! (sidenote: if u have any requests for my girl yoonji or anyone else, please send them in! i’m happy to write for u if ur respectful and are kind :)!! enjoy!) @cherrimonn for u <3

Originally posted by jiminiebbabo

Your head fell, hands gripping the counter until your knuckles paled to an almost unnatural colour as you stood over the pot on the stove. The contents were burnt for the millionth time, and once again you were faced with failure. Though you didn’t think you were the best at baking, you at least thought you had some skill. However, after these past few attempts, you were ready to give up. And then God in the form of a super hot guy came, and you were saved.

“Hey, you need help?” A chocolate voice came from above you and you lifted your head, eyes watering with a pout on your lips. If anyone asked, you were crying because you kept messing up, and not because what you were making smelled so bad that it hurt your eyes.

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I remember the way she cried. The way she cried after I made her promise she wouldn’t do anything stupid. I asked her why she was crying and her answer is what shattered my heart into tiny little pieces, “Because no one ever really cared about me like you do.”
She was the greatest thing to ever walk into my life.
It was that exact moment that I promised myself to never let her go. To protect her from this cruel world because she doesn’t deserve the shit that life throws at us.
I was left speechless, i pulled her in and i hugged her tears away. I loved her with every inch of my being and maybe she didn’t love me in the way I wished she did but I didn’t care because she needed me and that was enough.
I hugged her as I said bye. I walked away knowing that she would be okay because she knew someone was there for her. That’s all she needed. I turned around to catch her staring at me with those loving eyes and a soft smile.
That was all I needed.

Just a quick post about how amazing Elise Bauman was in The Carmilla Movie.

With a few exceptions, overall the acting was strong in the movie. But, I want to specifically make a post about Elise because she had the greatest range of emotions in the film and she played them all beautifully.

Her Laura was so fully fleshed out and nuanced and she really deserves a lot of credit for that. So massive kudos to Elise for knocking it out of the park like always

The Fainting Room

Month of Fanfiction - Day 11 - Smut. Fenris/f!Hawke, 2709 words, nsfw. Some ridiculous PWP set during Mark of the Assassin.

Maker damn it, those Orlesians were not kidding.

Duke Prosper had poured her two fingers of some peach liqueur—“said to enhance sensation,” he said as his gaze slithered up her décolletage like a slug—and the tiny little sips her corset allowed had seared their way down her constricted waist to pool between her legs, heating her up to the very core.

“You’re distracted, Champion,” giggled Sister Nightingale. “Something on your mind? Or should I say … someone?”

Her eyes glittered, and heat crept up Hawke’s face as she had the distinct impression that the redhead knew exactly what manner of drink swished in her tulip-shaped, short-stemmed glass.

Someone was on her mind alright. In fact, she blamed him as much as she did the blush-coloured liquid in her hand: they’d been at it like nugs since he’d returned to her, and the couple of days it had taken them to travel to the Vimmark Mountains had felt like another three years altogether.

Romantic getaway, my arse, she thought. So far it had been more of an exercise in self-denial and discipline. Now instead of looking for a way inside the castle, she found herself stealing glances around the garden in hopes of catching a shock of silver hair.

Likely playing cards with Varric somewhere, the truant, while the silk of her stockings was sizzling off her legs from the heat underneath her skirts—

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  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: chris carter has even said that the x-files was really scully's story, not mulder's. the pilot episode opens with scully, a young fbi agent, being assigned to the x-files in order to debunk the work of fox mulder — we are to assume because of her background in "hard science", and when we first meet her she's a 29-year-old phd/md with a specialization in forensics, who has been through the fbi academy, and considering how much she'd achieved before the age of 30, you have to kind of wonder: why didn't she get a better offer than debunking the x-files? why did the fbi pick her to work with mulder when the fbi could have really gotten their money's worth by using her in a more serious capacity? was it because she was a woman? did they think mulder would be more likely to cave if he was partnered with a woman? did they think that she was too smart for her own good — or not smart enough? what did the fbi see — or fail to see — in scully that landed her in fox mulder's basement office? if the fbi had really appreciated, or understood, just how brilliant and capable scully was, why would they have ever knowingly partnered her with mulder? it seems like they completely underestimated her, because she went on to become not just mulder's greatest ally, but an enormous threat to those the fbi thought she would blindly protect. scully's story began the way many a woman's has: not being taken seriously by powerful men, while at the same time being expected to serve the goals and interests of those men. scully's story, ultimately, is not about a young fbi agent who stumbles into a government conspiracy-laden basement and falls in love with her spaceship-chasing partner. it's about a woman who spent her entire life trying to prove herself, and when she finally did, she was so powerful that it didn't protect her — it endangered her. scully's story is the story of all women who have to fight to prove that they are strong, and when they do, people just wait for them to be broken by their own strength. the threats against scully were often overt and specific, but not always. in so many ways the more subtle and pernicious attacks on scully's sense of self, of her perception of truth, the shaking of her foundation of justice, were the real threats all along. the cat-and-mouse game between mulder & scully and the government was always this: they wanted to make sure mulder stopped asking questions and ensure that scully was always questioning. what they really wanted her to do, constantly, was question her own perceptions and undermine her own beliefs. from the beginning of the x-files to the most recent iteration, the only thing that ever really stood between scully and the truth was herself.
Jealous Much?

Pairings - Zach x Reader
Summary - Reader tries to make Zach jealous.. it does NOT end well ;)))
Warnings - Cursing, Smutty smutty smut smut, Daddy!Zach, Dominant!Zach
POV - Third Person
Word Count - 831

A/N - This is going to be like a 2-3 part thing, I guess. Daddy!Zach is totally real, so is Daddy!Ross FIGHT ME I DARE YOU

so ladies and gentlemen, I present to you - DADDY ZACH.


It was a Saturday night and there was a party at Bryces’ as always. It wasn’t any different - people getting drunk off their asses, vomit in a few places, hormonal teens making out, the usual. But what wasn’t usual was the tension between Zach and Y/N. Sure, they fought at times but nothing this severe. They hadn’t been talking for almost two weeks. At this point, Y/N wondered if they were even together anymore. There was no set reason as to why they fought. The reason was unclear to both parties. So they handled it the same way any teenager would - they decided to get shit faced. And there was no spot better than Bryce’s. Sure, he was an asshole, but he had alcohol, which was the solution to the problems of Liberty High’s favourite couple. 

 So Y/N decided to doll up to make sure she left no stone unturned to make her man (or her ex-man?) jealous out of his mind. Zach was a jealous, petty bastard. He loved Y/N truly, but he was hurt. And there was no way he was apologising first. After a few drinks and hours, Y/N was dancing with Monty who had his hands around her waist, dangling dangerously low. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ears, while she was laughing innocently, as if this was normal. As if she wasn’t doing all of this to make Zach lose his fucking mind. It was as if acting came naturally to her. And to say she wasn’t successful would be the greatest lie ever. Because Zach was looking at Monty as if he would cut him in pieces and feed himself with it.

 While Y/N smelled like vanilla, Zach smelled like envy. All he wanted to do was to go over to them and rip Monty apart, limb by limb. But he didn’t do that. He wanted to wait and see what would happen next. And it was as if Monty and Zach were having a telepathic conversation, because he moved his hands down to Y/N’s ass, giving it a squeeze, leaving Y/N too shocked to react. When she finally came to her senses, she pushed Monty, who wouldn’t let go of her. Zach took this as his cue to come in and actually rip Monty apart, limb by limb. So he made his way over to his girl, ready to take her back. “Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing with her?” a fuming Zach asked. Y/N had never seen him like this- she’d never seen him this angry. Eyes burning red, fists clenched, and lips in a straight line. “She’s over you bro, she was practically begging me to fuck her.” “Get your filthy hands off of me, you pig.” Y/N said, pushing him with all her might and moving to Zachs’ side. “You’re lucky you’re my friend, Montgomery.” was all Zach said before punching him in his face.

 He led Y/N out to the garden at Bryce’s, where his car was parked. “thanks- thank you for uh, for saving me.” An embarrassed Y/N said. She wanted to make Zach jealous, but she didn’t want things to get so out of hand. Zach wasted no time in grabbing her wrist and pining her down to his car’s hood. “Do you have the slightest clue as to what you’ve done? You avoided me for two whole weeks, didn’t respond to my messages, calls and emails, and today, you showed up at a party, wearing this,” He said while running his free hand over the sides of her thighs, skimming the sheer, thin material of her white lace dress. “Don’t you know what happens to little girls who disobey their daddies?” Zach whispered in her ear, making her knees go wobbly. “Zach, I- you’re hurting me,” Y/N said, trying to escape his hold on her. “Oh, am I? Pardon me, where are my manners?” He said, before pinning her on the hood once more, harder than before and kissing her roughly. His brown pupils had lost their usual, cheerful look. That cheerful look was now replaced by lust. Plain lust. 

He dragged her to his car, practically stuffing her in the car and closing the door, and getting in himself. Y/N, as fucked up as it sounds, couldn’t be more turned on right now. Zach started the ignition and began driving towards his house. “You’ve been so, so bad, Y/N. I think you need to be taught a lesson.” He said while running his hands on her thighs, up and down, slowly, smoothly and softly. He suddenly stopped at her core, feeling it’s wetness. “Wet already for me, babygirl?” He said and chuckled deeply. As they reached the Dempsey house, he turned off the car, getting out of his seat, he moved towards Y/N. He pulled her out, his hands on her waist. “What do you say, I have some fun with you?” He said and started taking her to his room.

When a blind woman was named Inquisitor, none of her inner circle expected the task before her to be easy. Neither did any of them expect her to face it alone. Each of them has their own task, a duty they have assigned themselves to make Elera Lavellan’s life just a little easier, a role they carry out with stubborn dedication. None of them say it, but they all know that every one of them would rather die than see someone else take their place.

Solas walks with her in the Fade, drawing her into his memories, conjuring up images of the places they’ve been. Only her body is blind, and in the Fade, she can see the echoes he creates for her. They stroll the ramparts of Skyhold together, a smile flickering around her mouth as she looks out on the rolling mountains, and he helps her memorise every staircase and passageway so that she might navigate them more easily in her sightless waking world. He shows her the Emerald Graves, so that she can stand beneath the trees and gaze at the million different shades of green the sunlight creates as it falls through the leaves. He shows her, despite his scorn, the Dalish camp they visited in the Exalted Plains, so that she can remember her own clan and feel, for a time, at home. They walk the paths of his memories together, he her hahren, and she, a student and friend he is proud to teach.

Varric does what an author does best - he puts the world around them into words. When they reach the top of a slope and let out gasps of awe at a view that Elera can’t see, he steps up to describe it to her, painting every detail with the best words he can think of until she smiles and whispers, I can picture it. He does the same with the people they meet, telling her everything from the colour of their hair to how high she has to look to meet their eyes. Leave it to the others to do the basics, helping her to make it through the world. Varric’s duty is to make that world beautiful.

Sera is the one who climbs. Up the piles of rocks, balancing on beams and narrow ledges, clambering onto rooftops and jumping between gaps. She hates those creepy shards, but Elera says they’re important, and Sera’s damned if she’s letting a blind woman go hauling herself up those frigging rock piles to reach them. Elera would do it if someone else didn’t, stupid stubborn woman, and Sera doesn’t want to see her fall and get herself killed. Because even though she’s an elf, an elfy elf, a really elfy elf who wants those pissing elfy shards to open that elfy temple… somehow, they ended up as friends. Real good friends. And Sera was never one to let her friends get hurt.

Vivienne picks out her wardrobe, not only for all those soirees and balls that the Inquisitor is obliged to make an appearance at, but for day to day wear. Just because practicality is Elera’s greatest concern - finding something with few buttons she needs to fumble at and few fastenings to struggle with - doesn’t mean she should be forced to sacrifice fashion. Vivienne seeks out fine silk and velvet for her, fabrics that a Dalish elf could never have heard of or touched before. She finds tunics in rich turquoise to match her vallaslin, and, for special occasions, a ballgown in pale silvery-blue, so unearthly against her pale skin that she almost seems to be wearing moonlight.

Dorian reads to her. It starts with him making some remark about a book on spirit magic he’s been browsing through. That sounds interesting, she says, could you read that passage to me? And before long it’s a tradition. She comes to the library, he finds a book, they sit in chairs facing each other and Dorian reads. At first it’s mostly tomes on magical theory, but soon, he’s narrating a new chapter of Hard In Hightown every evening, and a little circle gathers around them to listen, all of them catching their breath in unison over the dramatic parts and groaning whenever Varric ends things with yet another cliffhanger.

Cassandra has always been at home on the battlefield, and right from the start, she appoints herself the task of making sure that Elera can feel at home there too. Two rage demons, approaching from the right, and three wraiths, she roars, as the rift splits open and pours the Fade’s denizens forward.  One Red Templar in heavy armour, one archer. Just the simplest things, the things that tell Elera where to stand and what spell to use. There’s nothing she can do to make the bellowing of demons and the clashing of weapons less chaotic - but she can try to bring some kind of order out of the chaos. That’s what she does best, after all.

Bull takes it upon himself to make sure she can indulge in all the things the others won’t let her. Honestly, they treat her like she’s made of glass sometimes, and he knows it infuriates her, knows that she doesn’t want to be coddled. She’s blind, not a child. So he’s the one who makes sure she drops into the Herald’s Rest like all the others, the one who buys her a drink and lets her vent. She rarely has more than one or two, but all the same, he walks with her back to her room afterwards. Leaders have as much right to let themselves go as anyone from time to time. The fact that this leader can’t see doesn’t make the damnedest bit of difference to that.

Cole helps. He appears from thin air to guide her up staircases and through passageways when she needs it - but only when she needs it, because he knows she wants to stand alone as much as she can. And since she can’t see the curl of another man’s lip or the twitch of his brow while she speaks to him, Cole reads people for her, telling her the things she can’t pick up from their words and their tone. To him, her lack of eyesight means nothing. She’s a person, like all the others, and her thoughts are the same as everyone else’s. 

And Blackwall stands beside her. Where he’s meant to be. He’s the shield between her and everything that could ever possibly hurt her, the hand that flashes out to catch her when she stumbles and the weapon that cuts down the enemy who dared to get close. He’s the arm she rests her hand on as they go about their travels, the voice that tells her the path’s getting steeper or take it slow, there’s a sharp drop to the right. At first it’s an obligation, the duty of a soldier who’s seen men suffer a thousand different wounds from war, losing eyesight and limbs and sanity and Maker knows what else. He knows how to help someone whose body isn’t quite whole. 

But it becomes more than that, so much more. She is so strong, so capable, so determined to face all the trials thrown at her by a world she can’t see - but she can’t protect herself from everything. Just as he has needed her, needed her calm kindness and her dauntless faith in him, so she needs him to be her first and last line of defence. He knows, as the rest don’t (all right, Cole probably does, but all the normal rest don’t) that the one thing Elera Lavellan fears is oblivion. Being lost and alone with nothing to guide her.

She won’t have to face oblivion while he’s still breathing. She will always be able to reach out for him and find him there, to hear him tell her, I’m here, my lady. To which she responds with a smile and a murmur - I know, vhenan. Thank you.

She is his fortress, he is her shield, and nothing in the world can touch them.

Don’t You Doubt

Read on Ao3 here

Toni is kissing him.

Toni is kissing him.

And he’s kissing her back.

But it feels so… wrong. Jughead’s brain is fuzzy, and he’s unbelievably hurt by the words that Archie spoke to him earlier, but he still knows that what he’s doing isn’t right. He feels Toni’s lips on his, but all he can think about is Betty’s. And, when he pushes Toni away and sees her hurt expression, all he can see is Betty’s.

“You have to go,” Jughead hears himself saying. He casts his eyes downward, not wanting to witness Toni’s reaction. He is met with silence, so he says more firmly, “Now.” He pushes his chair back abruptly, cringing at the scraping noise it makes, and walks over to the door. When he opens it, he chances a glance at Toni. There remains a flicker of hurt in her features, but she gives him a firm nod anyway. Quietly, she gathers her jacket. But before she makes any move toward the door that Jughead is holding open, she looks back up at him.

“She doesn’t accept you, Juggie,” she says. “I know you’ve always wanted to think that she’s different, but she’s just like all those other Northsiders. Hasn’t she proved that today?”

Jughead clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t respond. “Toni…” he warns, tightening his grip on the door.

She walks slowly over to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t get you like I do. When you realize that, you know where to find me.” With that, Toni descends the steps of Jughead’s trailer. Before she can reach the bottom, though, a firm hand grabs her arm and whirls her around.

“No one,” Jughead says, his voice thick with emotion but unwavering, “will ever understand me like Betty Cooper does. You’re completely wrong about her.” After a pause, he adds, “And don’t call me Juggie.”

He registers the shock on Toni’s face, and all at once he realizes that maybe he should have seen this coming. All the signs were there: Toni staring at him, flirting with him, even right in front of Betty. It had to have been so obvious to her—his Nancy Drew, his brilliant investigator, never missing a detail of anything. He recalls the way she paused when he told her in his trailer that he had started working on the cipher with Toni, and now he thinks that she was probably hurting. But she didn’t tell him, of course, because she wanted to put her trust him; Betty, his greatest supporter, the girl who was understanding even when Toni said those untrue things about her, even when Jughead let her say those untrue things about her.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to see Toni’s face anymore. Jughead turns and walks back into his trailer, slamming the door behind him with no further explanation. He immediately sinks to the ground, his back to the door, and runs his hands through his hair. The tears come easily, and with them come all the feelings that he’s been pushing down for days.

He’s known for a while that his relationship was suffering. Apparently, he severely underestimated the extent of the problem, but he certainly isn’t surprised that his lies and denial have come back to haunt him. Jughead knows that he fibbed about the incident at school to protect Betty, to save her from unnecessary worry and pain, but that doesn’t change the fact that it marked the start of their open door of communication slowly closing. He caused a crack in the armor with that lie, and there’s no getting around that.

So it’s really no wonder, he thinks now, that Betty started lying to him too. He allows himself for the first time since Archie showed up at the trailer to remember the last time he saw her, in that lonely booth at Pop’s. There was a mutual understanding of falsehood there—a quiet agreement to leave out the details that would force them to address the reality of what was happening.

But then there was that moment. She spoke of running away, of Romeo and Juliet, and Jughead believes with everything in him that she meant it. He can’t dismiss the fact that he knows Betty, knows her better than he knows himself, maybe. So how could he have missed that she was looking for a way out of their relationship? How could what Archie said be true and that moment in the diner be real? They don’t make sense together.

Suddenly, Jughead feels sick. Guilt stabs him in the chest and spreads downward to his stomach, which he clutches tightly. He believed Archie, took him at his word. But not once in all his pain and anger and defeat did he think to talk to Betty herself. Maybe the words she said at Pop’s were true, and Archie’s were false. He thinks back to all the interactions he’s had with Betty over the past week, thinks about the I love yous they shared in his trailer not long ago. One of his favorite things about her has always been her tenacity—her refusal to give up, even when the situation seems impossible. And here he is, giving up on her at the drop of a hat.

Maybe he’s wrong, though. Maybe he’s been blinded by his love for Betty and hasn’t noticed the signs of her lack of affection.

But does Jughead want to risk this, risk her, on that chance?

He furiously wipes the tears from his face and pushes himself off the floor. Grabbing his sherpa jacket, he throws open the trailer door and marches to his bike. If Betty wants to end it with Jughead, she’ll have to tell him to his face.

It’s not long before his bike is parked outside her house and he’s making his way over to the ladder propped against her window. He briefly wonders why it’s still there, why she hasn’t moved it for fear of the Black Hood or to mark the finality of their break. But he pushes that thought down to focus on the task at hand.

When Jughead reaches the top of the ladder and knocks on her window, he can hear his heart beating erratically against his chest. He hasn’t felt this nervous since the first time he climbed this ladder, when he was debating whether or not he wanted to tell Betty what she meant to him. This moment is a far cry from that one, but Jughead doesn’t want to dwell on anything other than what he’s going to say to her when she opens the window. So he waits.

A few seconds seem like forever, but at last he sees her. She pulls the curtains back, and he struggles to keep in a sob that immediately rises in his throat when he takes in her appearance. Betty, his bright and beautiful girl with her brilliant smile, now looks like a ghost of who she once was. Her face is thinner, darker. Instead of the usual tight ponytail that Jughead has come to love, her hair is haphazardly pulled back into a low tie with careless strands flying everywhere. And her eyes—those eyes that always draw him in with their light—are completely clouded, as though a darkness has passed over them.

When Jughead notes her tearstained cheeks, it’s enough to break him. He lets out the cry that he’s been holding in and places a desperate hand on the barrier still standing between them. Betty’s tears are flowing too when she unlocks and raises the window, backing away with her hand covering her mouth as he makes the final climb into her room. All he wants to do is wrap her in the tightest hug he can muster, but he knows that he has to do what he came here for, so he stops himself.

“Betts…” he says. She closes her eyes as though she can’t bear to look at him. “Is it true?”

He doesn’t have to clarify what he’s talking about, because she instantly crumples. This time, Jughead doesn’t hesitate. He rushes to her and pulls her into a bruising hug. She doesn’t reciprocate, and at first he thinks that she’s about to tell him to go away. But then she melts into his grip, sobbing, and he guesses that she’s just too weak to return it right now.

“Betty,” he says softly once she’s quieted down. “Look at me.” She stiffens in his arms, and Jughead can tell that he’s going to have to force this conversation. He places a finger under her chin, pushing away the memory of the kiss he’d given her at Pop’s after the same move, and lifts her head. When she meets his eyes, he knows that it’s now or never. “You have to tell me the truth,” he says. “Forget about everything else—about everything that’s happening outside this room, and talk to me. It’s just us. It’s just me.”

Betty hesitates, and Jughead doesn’t push her. He can see the struggle in her eyes. He knows that she’ll talk when she’s ready.

“What if…” she starts, grasping his shirt tightly. “What if I can’t?”

He places a tender hand over her fist, hoping it will help her relax. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

He doesn’t miss the glance she casts at his touch before responding. When she does, something shifts in her expression. “Juggie…” she says.

Suddenly, the pieces start coming together in his head. Jughead thinks about the note the Black Hood sent her, the way he formed a message that only Betty could read. He remembers how she glossed over the fact that she had published the article about her mom the last time they talked. He can still see the distant look in her eyes, like she had the weight of something he didn’t know about on her shoulders.

“He… he threatened you, didn’t he?” Jughead asks.

She is silent, and it’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Betty, you need to tell me everything. I promise you that he won’t hurt you. I won’t let that happen. Just tell me the truth.”

But she still doesn’t say anything, and Jughead can tell that there’s something he’s missing.

“What if…” she starts again. “What if it’s not me that I’m worried about?”

She looks back up at him then, and he finally understands. He sees the pain there that has probably been present for days, the pain that she’s been dealing with alone. He knows what the Black Hood has done to her.

“He threatened me,” he says, and it isn’t a question.

Tears begin to roll down Betty’s cheeks again, and Jughead wipes them away with his thumb. He doesn’t remove his hand when he’s done, cupping her face softly. He sees that she is struggling to speak, so he waits.

“Juggie, he’s been calling me.”

Jughead pushes down his anger—anger at the Black Hood for doing this to her, anger at himself for not seeing her pain, anger at the universe for hurting someone as good and wonderful as Betty Cooper—and focuses on her words. He wants to be there for her now, make up for every agonizing second that he’s been absent.

“He told me that as long as I keep doing what he says, he won’t kill anybody. He threatened Polly, Veronica, you. He said I had to cut you off, and I couldn’t stand to think of you getting hurt—,” she chokes down a sob. Jughead runs his fingers through her hair, trying not to break down himself. “So I sent Archie to tell you that I needed some space, because I knew if I saw you that you would see right through me.”

Betty lets herself cry again, clearly finished speaking, and Jughead pulls her into a fierce embrace. She buries her face into his shoulder, and he strokes the back of her head while he allows his own tears to fall.

“Betts,” he whispers, still holding her tightly. “I am so sorry.”

They stay like that, tangled up in each other, for what seems like hours. When Betty finally pulls away, her forehead is red from where it was pushed into his shirt. Both of their faces are tearstained, Betty’s hair is mussed, and Jughead’s beanie has long since been lost.

“Juggie?” she asks timidly.

“Yeah, Betts?”

“I love you.”

Jughead reaches his hand behind her head and pulls her forehead to meet his. “I love you too, Betty Cooper.” She shakes a little, and a single tear rolls down her face. He places both hands on either side of her face and strokes his thumbs across her cheeks. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he says. “We’re not splitting up. I’m right here. And he’s not going to win, Betty. We’re going to find him.” He says it with so much confidence that even he’s surprised, but he immediately knows it’s true. He was so foolish to believe that she didn’t love him, that a stupid Riverdale civil war could break them up. They are Betty and Jughead, the best investigative duo the town has ever seen and the oddest pair to ever fall in love. Nothing could tear them apart. Not even the Black Hood—not even…

“Betty,” Jughead says, releasing his grip and leaning back to give her some space. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He can tell by the way she looks at him that she can hear the guilt in his voice.

“When Archie delivered your message, he may have… exaggerated things a bit, and, well… I may have believed him.”

Betty’s expression is unreadable, so Jughead continues.

“I was so hurt and lost, and I thought you broke up with me because of the Serpents, so I self-destructed a little bit. And that’s no excuse for what I did, but… I wanted something to numb the pain.”

He pauses, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks down at the floor and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Toni,” she says in a whisper that’s barely audible.

Jughead can feel the pain radiating off of her, and he desperately wants to be able to take it all back. He doesn’t respond, and he sees her quiver a little in recognition.

“Did you, um…” she starts, color rising in her cheeks. She clenches her fists, and Jughead wants to reach out and unclasp them, but he’s afraid to touch her right now. “Did you guys… you know…” she trails off and turns her face away from him.

Immediately, Jughead realizes what she’s suggesting. “No! No, Betty, no. I was hurt, and Toni was there. She leaned in to kiss me, and I was so desperate to feel better that I kissed her back. But it only lasted for a second, and then I told her to leave. I haven’t seen her since.”

Betty looks at him then. The pain is still there, but it’s mixed with some relief that Jughead can only guess stems from the knowledge that their kiss didn’t go any further than that.

She sighs. “I’m not going to fault you for that, Jughead,” she says, and he lets out the breath he was holding. “I get where you were coming from. I don’t know what I’d do if I thought you…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, and he doesn’t need her to.

“Betty,” Jughead says, reaching out and taking her hands into his. “I am so sorry. What I did was wrong, and it didn’t feel right or good or like anything other than a mistake. I told her off a little bit afterward, and I felt so guilty. I know you’ve probably lost some trust in me, but I really want the chance to rebuild it. Will you let me make it up to you, Betts? Please?”

Her eyes soften, and she gives him what he thinks is the first smile he’s seen from her since the one at Pop’s. It’s watery and tinged with a little sadness, but it’s more than he deserves, and his heart is overwhelmed with happiness at the sight of it.

“Of course, Juggie. I love you, so much. I’m just sorry I hurt you.”

He doesn’t let her say anything else, because they can continue this conversation later when they’re not emotionally drained and exhausted. He rushes at her, crushing her into another hug that somehow feels even tighter than all the ones they’ve shared since he climbed through her window tonight. Betty reciprocates it fully this time, and Jughead peppers her shoulder with kisses while he slips his hands under her shirt to wrap them around her waist. Her hand flies to his hair, kneading through his dark locks. He pulls his face back and looks at her intently, and he doesn’t even try to hide the full-on smile playing across his features. She smiles back at him, and his heart soars. Before he knows it, her lips are on his, and he’s kissing Betty Cooper once again.

This time, Betty is kissing him.

Betty is kissing him.

And, damn it, he’s kissing her back.


“Padme has the Force flowing through her. She has more midi-chlorians than any person even had because she’s pregnant with the Skywalker twins”

If I could change one thing in Revenge of the Sith, I would switch the “dreams about Padme dying in childbirth” with this unused concept of Padme’s force-sensitivy developed thanks to being pregnant.

It would be interesting to see the effect it has on Padme - the all uncontrolled things that started happening around her (even being haunted by dreams/visions about upcoming Palpatine’s evil regime??) and maybe for the first time she - and with her, we, the viewers - could see (feel) galaxy from Anakin’s (Force) perspective. While at the same time, I’m sure as hell both Jedi (Yoda) and Sith (Palpatine) would try to get their hands on the child(s) first. If an unborn kid can affect the mother in such way, one may only wonder what will happen later? And to be fair, Yoda would probably want to take the kid(s) from parents as fast as possible, to not taint it with attachments (the way Anakin was when he get to Jedi Order).

Instead of having Anakin forche-chocking Padme, we could see them working together, fighting against the system, politic games, religious cults (Sith & Jedi), desperately  trying to get out, to run away from both Yoda and Sidious.
Free Samples - anonymousAlchemist - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup, team as family basically
Characters: Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides, Barry Bluejeans, Merle Highchurch, Davenport (The Adventure Zone), The Director | Lucretia, Angus McDonald
Additional Tags: the team goes to costco, and buys groceries, thats it thats the fic, i have no good explanation for 3k of costco trip, i guess people have feelings in the costco, i guess that happens too, just…….look….its exactly what it says it is, continued from tumblr

They go to Costco on Friday afternoons because that’s when Costco has the most samples. Technically they have more on Saturdays, but there are too many crowds on Saturdays and crowds make Barry nervous.

Magnus goes to Costco to buy pet supplies in bulk. Lup goes to Costco to get groceries. Barry and Taako go to Costco because they refuse to let Lup out of their sight for more than fifteen minutes at a time these days. Lucretia goes because Magnus makes her go because she never buys groceries otherwise. Angus is coming because despite being “the world’s greatest detective,” nobody wants to leave him alone at home. Merle goes because he has two children. Davenport goes because somebody has to drive the car.

Also, he’s the only one who technically has a Costco membership.



honestly I hope this album isn’t sonically cohesive.

I hope it’s just raw and real emotions that are all over the place.

I hope it’s her best songwriting that she has ever done.

I hope that by the time it’s released I’m unable to breathe because it took every emotion out of me.

I have a feeling it’s going to be her greatest album she has ever created because she has always outdone her previous.


Tokyo ghoul:re chapter 131, about Touka and Kaneki

Well… Jokes aside, this chapter was really depressing. I knew from the very start of my experience with Tg that kaneki was probably going to die, but having it pretty much confirmed is disheartening anyways. The general mood is incredibly gloomy, kaneki’s health is so deteriorated that he looks like a ghost (he probably is one, in a sense).
I’d really like to spend a few words for Touka. The poor girl is getting so much hatred that’s unfair. First people called her abusive, then accused her of forcing kaneki to have sex because she wanted to trap him or something, last chapter she was a monster for keeping her pregnancy secret, now she’s literally the devil because she chose to put her child’s future before everyone (even Yoriko omg!!).
I’m going to write my two cents about all this drama, because I’m bored and insomnia is a bitch.
Touka is a woman, but let me put this straight, she’s still very young. She grew up in a world that hated her even before she was born. Touka had a loving family and her heart was filled with kindness and affection, she knew that specific type of warmth, she played with her brother and a little bird. In a blink of an eye she lost everything, even hope. Left behind, betrayed by all that kindness that was her father’s condemn. So Touka put herself together alone, struggling to survive, no one around to guide her, to support and promote her emotional growth. She cried silently, shamefully, hating her innate tenderness. She didn’t want to end up like Arata. Loneliness and rage, power and distance altogether, but… She met Yoriko and her eyes were gentle, too gentle to be ignored. She met kaneki and he was an idiot, a useless, indecisive weakling; his eyes were full of sorrow and Touka let them sink into her own pain.
Touka fell in love with someone, a stranger to be honest, and love itself is a difficult matter. She was lookin for an image, a memory, fond and terrible at the same time. Fear of losing as a twisted form of complacency…
She doesn’t know how to be completely sane, she’s still craving love without understanding its multiple faces. SHE WAS ALONE, missing that precious piece of herself, always longing, waiting… She doesn’t want to feel isolated anymore. Kaneki… He is not a perfect lover, he has troubles, he aches constantly, but he is… Somehow… Sweet. Touka doesn’t know him, not so much, not as good as she should. Their relationship is tainted by their own warped concept of love. But is this really so terrible? Is this really so incomprehensible for a girl desiring more closeness, more understanding, more REALITY? She wishes for kaneki to become a real person for once, to complete the puzzle of his shattered identity. Someone she can be with, someone she can care for without any fear. I know a lot of readers will not like this statement, but the harsh truth is that, for many people, sex represents a way of bonding. A direct, imperfect, exclusive one, of course. Emotions are not easily manageable, especially when you have spent most of your life fighting to be “just invisible”. Touka wanted her answers, wanted to put a name to her swirling feelings, so she made her move. Kaneki was more than willing to embrace their moment together.
Kaneki… He’s a young man. He was hurt a lot by the people he loved the most. He was told to shut up, to be a maggot (small, insignificant), to not upset anyone with his existence. His mother gave him the message he was a nuisance for the world and unfortunately he belived her. Kaneki doesn’t really want to live, to get attached, to feel. He’s good with his books, foreign worlds, inoffensive artificial emotions. Touka is the first ghoul he met after Rize. She is a blazing flame, she lives her personal hell with proudness and a bit of recklessness. She is beautiful and she shakes him from the inside. He fell for her twice, even when he didn’t know who he really was. Kaneki needs to be shaken, he really does. Kaneki enjoyed having sex with her and at the end, he quietly slept on her knees, SMILING. No one of them really thought about the consequences, they just AGREED to freed themselves from every intrusive thought, chasing after that precious thing so mysterious and always far away.
Kaneki and Touka are two young adults overwhelmed by a crazy world that has never really protected them (actually they are still learning how to protect themselves).
However this crazy world is also unforgiving. They are BOTH responsible of their actions, they had sex TOGHETER and sure as hell none of them wished to become a parent, especially not Touka. Yes, she has been carless, but Kaneki too. How can anyone ignore the torment she’s living? She found herself pregnant and nothing can change the past. So now, even tho she didn’t planned anything, she’s enduring terrible physical pain, even not knowing if her efforts are somehow useful, because she cannot let the creature inside of her die. And at first her greatest concern was still to PROTECT kaneki, sparing him from the responsibility of being a father. Kaneki has already the entire world on his shoulders, so she didn’t want to make him even more anxious. She was ready to live this hell alone, for Kaneki’s sake. I usually don’t like when other people try to impose their decisions on others, but I was still impressed by Touka’s abnegation.
I’m happy she chose to tell kaneki everything in this chapter. The baby is also kaneki’s and he has has the right AND the duty to take full responsibility.
Now please spare me the comments about Touka mentioning another girl or the childish argument “THEY DON’T SEEM HAPPY! THEY ARE SO FAKE!!”.
First of all, Touka is a sarcastic person. We know this from the very beginning of Tg. Touka uses irony every time she feels uncomfortable, embarrassed or scared. Even when she confessed a few chapters ago she tried to appear casual about the matter, even if her thoughts were complex and also tinged with sadness (remember her referring to kaneki’s suicidal tendencies?). Please don’t be ridiculous by giving meaning to Touka’s silly ice breakers. If you want to criticize use more convincing arguments. As for the “ they don’t seem happy! ” thing, well… OF COURSE they are not happy! Kaneki is literally dying, he doesn’t even know if he’ll be lucky enough to see this child’s face, the pregnancy itself has an high risk of failure, Touka and kaneki know this for a fact and it’s frightening. The world is burning, ghouls and humans are at each others’ throats more violently than ever and at the moment ghoulkind is definitely losing. They are starving and are forced to live underground. So… Tell me: what exactly should kaneki and Touka be celebrating?
At least kaneki tried to connect more this time. Touka gave him a ring, now he tells her in his typically childish way that he truly cares for her and that he wants them to be together like a real family.

As for Yoriko, I’m sorry for her, but I can totally understand Touka’s decision. Touka wants to protect her family, her child and the father of her child. You can’t help anyone if you don’t choose. It is painful indeed, but there is no other way. I guess Kaneki was really impressed by Touka’s will. His mother didn’t fight for him, so his son is already luckier in my opinion.

Disclaimer: I want to make this crystal clear, I’m not a shipping fangirl, or at least, I don’t have any favourite pairing at all in Tokyo Ghoul. I think none of these freaks should be allowed to experience romance and reproduce (lol).
Seriously tho, I really don’t have any particular love for Touka or Touken in general. This post is just my honest feelings spilling together because I can’t sleep at night.


Courage is a word of justice. It means the quality of the mind that enables one to face apprehension with confidence and resolution. 


Holy crap I drew art!! Shocking I know.

I feel like a bazillion years ago SailorFailures said it’d be an interesting idea if people took those fashion photosets where the models heads are cropped off and tried to pick what outfit a senshi would wear, and well, I found this photoset of Zuhair Murad’s dresses and…here we are!

The inners the outers and some villains for good measure. Dark Mercury made it in because she is my bae and PGSM is the greatest thing ever.

anonymous asked:

Can u pls explain "big hands" scene.. I understood why Hinata had to be strong in that situation& her support to naruto, I got the speech.. I know they can't mourn over the loss coz of the circumstances they were in. They have to suck up the pain and move forward to save thier world.. but how can think of a Naruto hands wen neji corpse is right below her feat regardless of the symbolism??since her Thoughts could have been the best medium to show how much she's hurt over the loss of neji.. cont

Okay Anon, you sent me this twice, and both times there was no continuation of the ask, so I suppose I’ll just answer this now.

So initially, you say that you’re aware that they can’t mourn over his death due to the dire circumstances they were in, and that they had to suck up the pain and move forward. But then you go and say that Hinata’s thoughts should have been used to illustrate her immense grief over Neji’s loss, in other words, to mourn over him. So which is it exactly? Because you’re contradicting yourself here.

You say how could she possibly think of Naruto’s hand when Neji’s corpse is right there, as if to say that she was unaffected by his death or something. This is something that I don’t quite understand considering this panel where she has tears streaming down her face:

And this panel where her tears and grief only get worse:

Hinata’s face and expressions alone where enough to connote her pain from losing Neji; her thoughts didn’t need to demonstrate the same thing in order for the point to get across.

However, the panel below of Hinata’s face serves as a fitting contrast to the ones above, because this was the point where she realised that she couldn’t allow Obito to gain the psychological advantage, because as you rightfully said (despite your later contradiction), they couldn’t afford to mourn Neji in that moment when their enemy was directly in front of them.

So, despite the many tear stains on Hinata’s face, which again signified her immense grief at her cousin’s passing:

She steeled herself and gave Naruto that speech which helped him regain his belief. In your second ask, you mention how her thoughts could have been used to portray the effort she was making to stand strong for Naruto’s sake, but that was one of the main points of her speech in the first place. So why should her thoughts have been about showing her efforts to stand strong, when she had literally just done that mere seconds prior with her speech?

Another thing is that for some reason, people tend to zero in on the fact that Hinata was thinking about Naruto’s hand, and they bash her for it. Yet, they never actually pay attention to why she was thinking about his hand, because that’s the part that actually matters. It was because it gave her comfort, it gave her the strength to keep fighting despite the loss that she had just suffered:

It was a recurring theme in the series for Naruto to be depicted as this warm ray of sunshine whose mere presence and aura alone were able to lift people, and this was just more of the same. She was thinking about his hand because as she was holding it, the contagious nature of Naruto’s will was amplified.

Besides Anon, when the time came for mourning…

That’s precisely what they did. Neji wasn’t just some afterthought to Hinata whenever Naruto was concerned. She did what she had to do during the war because she couldn’t allow Obito’s provocations to break what was essentially the Allied Forces’ greatest hope, and steeled herself, despite her immense grief.