but i am definitely not complaining

im sick and tired of men complaining about women being afraid of them like i DO NOT CARE if it hurts your feelings when a girl crosses the street to get further away from you!!! we hear how men talk about us! we see how men treat us! well stop being scared of men when they stop being so fucking scary!

edit: i made this post as a part of an annoyed rant, because a family member was complaining about a woman avoiding him in the parking lot. it was a personal post that i made at like 2 am, not meant or expected to get notes, NOT meant to be reblogged by terfs, and DEFINITELY ‼️ not meant to single out men of color. im white, and i wasnt even considering that white women often use this language to justify their racist violent perceptions and fear of men of color. i should have have been more specific and thought this post through more. im sorry
Mine (part 2 of Hers)

This is part 2 to this imagine. Hope you enjoy it!

You know one of the worst things about being in love with your best friend? You can’t just get away from them. It’s like even if you’re sure that ignoring them will be helpful, they just won’t take it.

Since that night, a month ago, I’ve been doing everything in my power to get away from Harry. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him out of my life forever, but just for a little while so I can try and get over him. Because now he’s engaged, and trust me, the world doesn’t let me forget this.

Although I’ve been busy with work – or at least that’s what I tell Harry to avoid him – the world seems to get against me all the time. Fans bombarding my twitter with questions about his engagement and how I feel about it, Harry and Lexa on the cover of every magazine, Louis texting me every day asking me how I am doing, Anne complaining I haven’t been to their family reunion on weekends… It’s tough to ignore this whole thing when it seems it’s out to get me.

Harry knows something is wrong. I don’t think he realizes how hurt I am by his decision to get married to Lexa, but he definitely knows something is wrong. He keeps texting me, saying he misses me and that he wants me to be part of his wedding. So far, I’m not even sure if I’ll go to the damn thing.

Will you be free this weekend? Mom said she’ll be giving a small get together and that she misses you. H

Not sure. Working and all that.

Why are you so distant?

I’ve already told you, I’m working. Big project.

I’ll be honest and say I miss him. Probably more than I should. I miss his hugs, I miss his voice, his smile, his mesmerizing green eyes, his way of making me smile by only looking at me. I miss him. But I also feel angry. Harry is probably the smartest person I know and yet he doesn’t realize the mistake he’s making. Lexa doesn’t get him like I do, she probably doesn’t care for him as much as I do and definitely doesn’t love him like I do. I guess I am just angry at myself, at the end of the day. I could have had him. It took me too long to tell him my feelings and he moved on. No, to someone to move on from someone there has to be feelings involved and I’m pretty sure he never had those feelings for me.

It hurts, most of all. It’s hard to ignore the aching feeling in my heart, especially when I don’t know how to get rid of it. I’ve been on dates the past weeks, dates that went nowhere. That ended with me in my couch, a bottle of wine, old photos of Harry and me and many tears. Tears because I miss those times when we’re inseparable, when it was us against the world. I miss those times when I knew I could tell him everything. I miss his comfort after heartbreak. But how can I go to him when the reason I am so devastated is him? Is the fact that he loves someone else, that he is about to vow infinity love for someone is not me. Is the fact that even though he knows me so well, he can’t see how this is breaking me. He is about to be forever hers and all I wish was for him to give me a chance to make him mine. He can’t fix me when he’s the one who broke me.  

I knew I shouldn’t, it would only make things worse. So I don’t how I ended up sitting in my car, on Anne’s driveway. I should turn around and go back to my house, but a part of me didn’t want to. I miss everyone, they’re like family to me. And, most of all, I miss him. I know very well that for my own sake I should turn around and run, so why am I walking towards the door?

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you, my darling! I missed you! How are you doing?” Anne hugged me tight and I couldn’t help the smile that this hug brought to my face. I miss her more than anything.  

“I’m ok. Working a lot.” I let go of her and we headed to her living room. Everyone was there: Gemma, the boys, Lou, Lux and, of course, Harry and Lexa. He looks amazing and my breath was caught in my through as soon as he headed my way.

“Where have you been hiding?!” He hugged me and I let him hold me to his chest. Gosh, how I missed this. Missed him so close to me. I almost forgot everyone else, but the hug was shortly broken by Gemma.

“Sis, it’s so good to see you. How’s work? How’s life?” She hugged me.

After saying hello to everyone, Gemma, Louis and I went to the kitchen to grab some more wine to the others.

“How you doing?” Louis asked me once we were out of reach.

“I drink a lot, I cry a lot and I work a lot.” I was honest with them. Gemma looked at me with sadness in her eyes and I knew she wanted nothing more than to me and her brother to get together and be happy.

“He misses you.” Louis told me. “He doesn’t know why you’re pulling away and it’s breaking him that you’re so distant.”

I felt a knot in my through and I knew if I keep talking about it, I’ll lose it. I’ll crumble in a ball of hysterical cries and that would cause a lot of trouble. I took the wine bottle and went back to the kitchen, to see Lexa showing Anne pictures of wedding dresses she has been trying on. Anne looked like she couldn’t care less for what her future to be daughter-in-law was saying, but the scene itself was enough to halt me in place.

It was real. He really was getting married. She was already looking at dresses. I think a part of me always thought he was going to change his mind, or maybe this whole thing was some kind of sick joke.

“Oh, Y/N, Lexa wants you to help with her dress too.” Harry smiled at me, oblivious to the hurt his words caused.

“Hm, maybe some other time.” My voice didn’t sound like myself, it sounded robotic. “I need to go now. Got a call from the office.”

“Wait, what?” He asked confused. “You just got here. And today is Sunday, you can’t possibly work on a Sunday!”

“Well, it’s very possible and I need to get going.” I was out the door before I could even hear anything else.

I drove back home with tears rolling down my face and a broken heart. I lost him forever.

If I had stayed that night, I would’ve known about the fight that took place right after I left. I would’ve known how pissed off Harry was with my behavior and I would know what unfolded after Gemma decided to just through every truth at him.

If I had stayed, I wouldn’t be face to face with a very angry Harry, standing in the middle of my living room.

“YOU LOVE ME?” He asked looking at me from across the room.

“Of course I love you, you’re my best friend and…” I tried to get out of the situation, but I could see I wasn’t convincing him.

“Oh please, Gemma told me everything. How you’ve been in love with me for 3 years and not said a damn word about it. How you’ve ran away from my party not because you’re not feeling well as you told me, but because I got engaged. How you’ve been ignoring me on purpose to get rid of your feelings for me. Why did I have to hear this from my sister, Y/n? Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was near a whisper at the end of his rant and he looked devastated.

“I-I-I…” I took a deep breath and turned away from him. “I was afraid of losing you for good. When I first realized my feelings, I didn’t know how to deal with it. How was I supposed to tell you? I’ve known you my whole life, Harry! But the boys kept on telling me to talk to you. Do you remember that day 3 years ago?” I turned around to meet with his green eyes watching my every move. “When you told me you met Lexa?”

“Of course. It was the day you told me you were coming home and…” He stopped. I could see the wheels turning in his head; I knew he understood what I wanted to say.

“I was going to confess my feelings for you that day. But you were so happy about her… I couldn’t ruin this for you. So I decided it was time for me to come home, for me to move on from you.”

“But you never did.” He whispered.

“No. It’s harder to get over you than it looks like.” I sat on my couch, feeling completely defeated with this whole conversation. “Why are you so pissed off, Haz? Yes, I do love you and I am trying to get over you. Eventually it will happen. I’m not gonna lie and say that right now I’m happy with your wedding, because God knows I don’t think she’s right for you. But if you’re happy, than so am I. I just need time to get over my feelings for you, that’s all.”

“Why am I so pissed off?!” Harry suddenly was angry again. “You didn’t tell me anything. You completely shut me out, I was left in the dark for too long. For Christ sake, I am your best friend, you should tell me this things! So now, not only did I lose my future wife, I’m afraid I’ll lose my best friend.”

“Wait, what?” I looked up at his hooded eyes, feeling my heart pick up the rate. What does he mean with lost his future wife?

As if reading my thoughts, he took the wedding ring he gave Lexa from his pocket and showed to me. The beautiful diamond was shining in the dim lights and I could barely believe my own eyes.

“Harry, what did you do? Why are you with her bloody ring?”

“Because if you had told me you loved me, I would never have stayed with Lexa in the first place!” He sat beside me and took my hand in his. “I always loved you, Y/N. Gosh, always have and always will! I spent so many years loving you, and when I realized you would never love me back, I decided to move on, y’know? Lexa was a great girl, but she wasn’t you. I cared for her, and since I believed I would never love someone as much as I love you, I thought she could be the next best thing, I guess. Gosh, Y/N, I love you so so so much it hurts.”

At first, I thought I was dreaming. Harry was confessing his feelings for me and it has to be a dream. But when his hands found my neck and his lips found my lips, I knew this was actually happening. And it was better than every dream I ever had in my entire life.

“Now, I need to hear your answer even though I know what’s gonna be. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He smiled at me and in that moment I knew everything was finally fitting into places.

“We went through all of this for you STILL have to ask me that?” I rolled my eyes and straddled his lap. “Of course, you idiot.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see the others reaction.” He laughed and kissed me again. “But first, let me show you exactly how much I love you.”

And just like that, he carried me to my room, for the first of many nights together.

***

I hope you’ve liked this. Please, leave me your thoughts about this oneshot, talk to me pleeease. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language!

All the love, B.

MASTERLIST

only the finest

Lena just wanted a nice night out with Kara.


“Would you like to go on a date?”

It slips out. Quiet and rushed, the words forming and letting loose before she can think anything other than please say yes. Kara freezes, noodles halfway to her mouth as she looks between them, and Lena almost takes them back.

(They’ve been doing this- meetings under the guise of interviews, the latest on L-Corp- for weeks.

Somewhere, between hands brushing just so as they pass food back and forth, it’s become featherlight kisses on the corner of her mouth when Kara leaves, promises to call when the other is free and texting whenever they can.

Somewhere, Kara has went from her only friend in National City to something. Something that makes her heart race with possibility and ache with the thought of its loss if she pushes.)

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anonymous asked:

Well that post about kisame and shark characteristics said the hoshigaki females would be generally bigger, more muscular etc. So just, kisame sees the pink headed blob from behind and like ew a weak one but then she turns around and bam memories of his mother accidentally breaking tables/doors/walls come to mind bam he's in love

I should absolutely definitely totally be finishing the next chapter of reverse right now what have you done

Nagato looks like he’s about to start stabbing people, which Kisame thinks likely isn’t the best way to walk into a peace conference with Konoha.

“Obito,” he says tightly, as the volume of Konan and Yahiko’s bickering increases. “I am very fond of you, but if you don’t stop complaining I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Obito rolls his eye, but he does stop fidgeting with his shakujo, sinking back flat on his feet rather than poised on the balls of his toes, and Kisame allows a fraction of the tension in his shoulders to ease. Having their resident powerhouse to slightly wound isn’t good for the nerves.

“Fond,” Obito says instead, pulling a face. “Gee, thanks.”

Nagato looks exasperated, and turns to his partner with a huff, but Kisame has been walking between Konan and Yahiko and Sasori and Deidara since they left Ame; he’s had more than enough of couple quarrels for the next lifetime and change, so he squeezes past their honorable(-ish) leaders and makes tracks for the clear field they agreed on for negotiations, figuring he may as well scout the area. Nagato will likely do one better as soon as he gets his head out of his ass, being a sensor and all, but for now Kisame steps out of the trees and takes a quick glance around the field. It looks like it would make a good battlefield in another life, open and free of most obstructions, but as it is there’s only a single other figure visible.

Deciding he may as well be friendly, Kisame puts on his best smile, trying not to show too many extra teeth, then slings Samehada over his shoulder and wanders towards the kunoichi inspecting a lone outcropping of boulders. She’s small, lean, with short pink hair held back by a Konoha hitai-ate. Almost despite himself, Kisame feels a flicker of resignation, expecting another weak, stuttering, flailing girl. Objectively, he’s well aware that most kunoichi can’t be held to the standards of the Hoshigaki Clan, but Kisame grew up with women who were a good two heads taller than him and twice as broad, all muscle, and able to break a table in half without a thought. Anything less invokes an instinctive distaste, and—

The small, pretty kunoichi makes a sound of deep frustration, rears back, and punches the boulders hard.

It’s probably upwards of six tons of rock, and with one direct blow the entire formation shatters into dust.

Kisame’s jaw drops, and he practically trips over his own feet. Oh, he thinks, and then Oh! And maybe she’s not quite as tall or broad as his mother and sister but as she spins to face him he realizes she’s nowhere near delicate. Those are thick muscles, just as honed as his own, and the way she balances herself says she knows exactly how to use them.

“A kunoichi!” Kisame says, utterly delighted.

The young woman eyes him like he just said something dumb. “Haruno Sakura,” she says, like it’s a warning.

It might be, but Kisame’s been so focused on Ame and helping rebuild Akatsuki after Madara’s attempt to corrupt it that he hasn’t had time to leaf through the Bingo Book lately. Now he wishes he had, because wow.

“You!” he repeats. “You’re a real kunoichi!”

Sakura blinks, taking half a step back as she falls out of her fighting stance, and she looks startled and just a little flattered. “Um?”

“Could you bench press me?” Kisame presses, already advancing in anticipation.

Baffled, Sakura blinks at him for a moment, then snorts, tugs up her fingerless gloves, and cracks her knuckles. “Why not,” she asks in bemusement, and Kisame wastes no time leaping for her.


(“Oh gods, really?” Nagato demands, pressing his hands over his face in clear despair as the remaining members of Akatsuki file into the meadow.

Obito just snorts. “At least he’s having fun,” he says dryly, and a surreptitious glance across the field shows that Kakashi is watching his student toss around a deadly, homicidal missing-nin with no small amount of horror.

Obito would absolutely be lying if he said that didn’t factor in to the way he catches Nagato’s arm and keeps him from marching over to corral their wayward swordsman. When Nagato shoots him a look of deep betrayal, Obito offers him a smirk, tipping one shoulder in a shrug. “I thought you were the one who was so invested in peace by any means, Nagato.”

Nagato groans, and the hands go back over his face. “She’s using him as a weight, Obito! And he’s letting her!”

“True love comes in many forms,” Obito says, mock-wisely, and doesn’t even try to dodge the smack that Nagato aims at his head.)

The fruits of my labour today. Took me four and a bit hours to make this figure for an upcoming paper. Names and specimen numbers have been redacted to stop cheeky blighters nicking our research, obvs. Scale bars indicate 1 mm.

son-of-rome  asked:

Percabeth and "I almost lost you" kiss

There are too many almosts to count in Percy’s life with Annabeth.

That’s what it is to be a demigod, and there’s a thought that stirs up the old resentment. Dark and bitter, and yet a part of him is glad to have it. The day he decides to roll over and accept that being a demigod means having a shitty life is the day he may as well not bother to get up again.

They’re building something new together. Something that, if it can’t banish the almosts, it can at least push them further away. If they can get their near-death experiences down to maybe once a year, Percy will consider it a win.

A pillow smacks him in the face.

Given that Percy is in bed and that’s where pillows are typically kept, this shouldn’t be all that surprising. On the other hand, given that it’s three am and he’d been pretty sure his wife was asleep not five minutes ago, Percy feels pretty justified in yelping about the situation.

“Shhh,” Annabeth mumbles, flailing behind her with the pillow again. She’s curled up on her side, facing away from him. “I could hear you thinking from REM.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Percy complains, pushing the pillow away from him, except he’s not complaining at all. “And you definitely didn’t hear me thinking. You’re good, Wise Girl, but you’re not that good.”

“I’m great.” Apparently satisfied that her assault has done its work, Annabeth tucks the pillow back under her head, yawning. “And I always know when you’re awake.”

It’s a talent they share. Knowing when the other is awake, that is, obviously Percy knows when he’s awake. A leftover necessity from the days right after Tartarus. Being sure of who was sleeping next to you. Being sure that they were okay.

It’s impulse to kiss her. To lean over and brush tangled curls away from her face, to press his lips to the curve of her cheekbone, featherlight.

“‘S’at for?”

For a second - just a second - Percy thinks of their almosts. The uncountable times he’s nearly lost her over the years.

“Because I can,” he says, and wraps an arm around her waist to pull her into him.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to, the body-warm metal of her rings brushing over his skin as she lifts a hand to cover his.

okay so this fandom is complaining about so many things in acowar that were clearly laid out to be plot points in the next books?? like acowar concludes feysand’s arc, for the moment….no one else’s….so…i am sorry that your ships didn’t get the attention you wanted or elucien didn’t get any closure or whatever but…i think we all know by now that maas takes her relationships slowly and…all of these issues will be worked out later on………and everyone complaining that lucien left for most of the book…..i am sorry ik he’s everyone’s fav but….the series is not over…and i doubt maas would have brought in vassa + the firebird thing just to ever discuss it again. So we will definitely be finding out more of what lucien was doing in acowar! 

I mean…I personally enjoyed reading Feyre’s pov for the entire thing and…liked that it focused on concluding her arc as a survivor of abuse turned high lady turned savior of the world. 

idk. really not feeling the negativity from the fandom atm. there are legitimate complaints but then there are just….things that people are complaining about that maas is clearly going to address later on. 

anonymous asked:

yoooo that historical arranged marriage au looks sooo interesting,,,, i definitely WOULD NOT complain if u ever felt like writing more of it;)))

I am such a sucker for both historical fantasy and arranged marriage Aus so and I really liked this idea so I did some mock ups for scenes that would appear in the in universe fic

Disclaimer - this is a fake au fic from the Rivals series. In universe it would be written by a Viktuuri fan and so is based on how that fans see umfb!viktor and Yuuri not as they actually are. It was also written as a joke on my phone in half an hour so please don’t take this as serious writing! 

Original concept - no.11 of the ‘15 most popular fics in the Rivals universe alternate AO3’ - Original post here

Title: Every Pawn Can Become A Queen

Rating:  Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category: M/M

Fandom: Figure Skating RPF

Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov

Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Viktor Nikiforov, Katsuki Mari, Phichit Chulanont, Christophe Giacometti, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Georgi Popovich, Mila Babicheva, Other Character Tags To Be Added

Additional tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe – Historical Fantasy, Alternate Universe – Royalty, Plotting, Assassination Attempts, Enemies to Lovers

Summary:

Yuuri is the Prince of an Empire, second in line for the throne and renown in battle, a formidable warrior who has been fighting for almost half his life against the neighbouring Empire and their barbaric ways. But after tragedy strikes both kingdoms, an uneasy peace must be formed between the two opposing sides, a peace that must be sealed with the strongest of bonds.

Charged with keeping the peace for the sake of his people, Yuuri is forced to leave his homeland forever and marry the only son and heir of the opposing kingdom, forging an alliance with marriage to protect the empire built on the backs and blood of his family and now ruled by his beloved sister. But Yuuri knows what the marriage truly is beneath the pretty words. A life-sentence, imprisoned forever under the rule of a man he hates and has faced on the battlefield countless time.

But the political machinations of the foreign court might prove to be an even deadlier battlefield than the one he just left and he must keep the peace between the two kingdoms to save the lives of millions, whatever the cost. And what’s more, his long-time enemy and new husband is not the man he believed him to be and his position as Prince Consort holds more power than he ever expected. For the one who holds the heart of the future king is the one who can control the kingdom.

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anonymous asked:

This is an odd question, but when did the whole "it's all in how you raise them" myth started gaining momentum? What about the fur mommy craze, when/how did that start?

The technical origin was Nazi Germany, applied to people. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a psychology class, but a German psychologist and Nazi sympathizer was quoted saying that, given the right raising and conditioning, he could turn “the lowest of men” into either a genius or a fool. I have lost the full quote as I long ago sold my psychology textbook from college, but it came up in class and served as sort of an “oh!” moment for me because we’ve long ago learned that that is not true about humans and yet we repeat a paraphrased version of it for dogs.

(If someone wants to find it for me I would appreciate it- I’ve spent some time on google and ah- that’s a lot more hateful rhetoric than I’m willing to sift through to try and find the exact quote I’m looking for.)

I don’t know when the change happened or who to blame for it. The fur/pibble mommy upswing definitely popularized it even if they are not to blame for the transition.

You guys would probably be surprised how much of modern dog keeping, accurate or not, in the Western world has direct parallels with Nazism. Probably something about people being obsessed with blood purity and heavy conditioning to perform hard tasks under the oversight of an unbending master prone to dish out heavy punishment, if I’d hazard a guess. I’ve complained in private about how a lot of ultra-conservatives, neonazis, and racists have infested large parts of the conformation and bitework worlds and how I really am not a fan of it.

Open It

Title: Open It

Characters: Negan x You/Reader

Synopsis: You get shit-faced drunk on Negan’s birthday.

Warnings: NSFW, smut!

Note: Here’s my smut for @negansmutweek​ JDM birthday celebration! Not entire happy with it (but then again, when was I ever satisfied with my fics lmao) but I hope y’all enjoy this! xoxo

You opened your eyes and was met by a surreal blur, match that with an extreme headache with a side of sore throat. Scrunching your face, you let out a groan as you turned to your side to find a more comfortable position on the bed. And then it hit you— you weren’t in your room. You sat up almost too quickly, forgetting about the horrible hangover you woke up to.

“Fuck!” you hissed as you held your head in both your hands.

When you relaxed a tiny bit, you took it as a chance to look around the place. You were sitting on a king-sized bed with clean white sheets. There was a couch across from you, a drawer and cabinet leaning against the wall and a couple more pieces of furniture that somehow gave you an idea whose room you were in. Your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage and your headache grew a hundred times worse when you remembered getting really shit-faced drunk on your boss’ birthday. You looked down and let out a small gasp when you noticed that you were bra-less and was only clad in a loose, grey shirt and just your undies.

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doodleboots  asked:

You said your house was haunted by "parakeets and Amish Satan" EXPLAIN

…I don’t remember posting about that on here omfg how deep in my personal tag are you? 😂 Those are two different stories so this is probably gonna be long.

Alright, so I was always that freaky little ‘I see dead people’ shithead when I was a kid. You know, that asshole kid that gives detailed descriptions of relatives that died before they were born and says they see them on the ceiling or some shit? That was me. Important to the stories. I’ll start with the parakeets.

Okay, so when I was like…Maybe 5 or 6, I really wanted to get a pet. We had a dog, but I was not the dog’s favorite person, and I was in that whole ‘I wanna prove I’m responsible’ stage of childhood, so I ambushed my parents with the pet question when we were out to dinner. (Which was a strategic move, as I knew all the waiters at the restaurant liked me and would maybe throw in a pity “Aww, get the girl a pet” comment as a guilt trip if they over heard the conversation. It totally worked lmao)

So, after a long debate about animals, my parents decided to get me parakeets. Which, I had not been aiming for (I wanted something cuddly, and I like birds in theory, not in practice) but I was not in a position for arguing when I was about to get a pet, so I agreed and we headed off to PetSmart and got two birds.

Now, over the course of my childhood, I only had three birds- Blueberry, Banana, and Snowcap. You can probably figure out what they looked like, I was not the most creative child. So, in our old house, which was, frankly, a better house, they had a great life! We kept them in the living room, right next to the huge glass doors that lead to the backyard so they got a lot of sunlight and fresh air, we were great about cleaning up their feathers, they didn’t feel attention starved so they weren’t too loud or annoying. It was great.

Then we moved to our current house, and that’s where it starts getting complicated.

See, my mom and I were both on a depression battle, and if you know anything about that, it made it very hard for us to do things. Energy wasn’t there. So while we were obviously still feeding the birds and everything, we definitely let the cage get messy and stopped cleaning up feathers. We had them on the bay window in my living room, so it looked like a mess, which really pissed my Aunt Gail off. Gail was a psycho bitch, for reference, but she had moved in with us to help pay bills and insisted the birds were taken out of the living room, which I wasn’t really down with, but I also wasn’t down with her locking me in a closet, so I listened to her. So Blueberry and Snowcap got banished to the computer room, where there was very little light, always loud music playing, and barely any attention for them. I remember they’d get so loud and we’d just throw a sheet over the cage or turn the lights off or yell for them to shut up. As it stands now, I realize we definitely ended up mistreating the birds, and I feel incredibly guilty about that, but as a little kid with very little patience and a fear of birds, who was mostly following her mother and aunt’s actions, I didn’t understand. I got pretty detached from them because of where I was mentally, and I remember when they both died (separately- Blueberry held on for a while, so she was sadly alone for a while), I like, forced all emotion about it away and just didn’t focus on it. Do you know what I mean? I was pretending like I wasn’t effected, like it was a non-issue, and like tbh I didn’t even let myself focus on how effed up that is until a couple years ago. But that was just the headspace I was in.

Okay, so anyway, birds: I always hear them outside my window during the day, chirping up a storm, but at night? It’s usually dead silent, with the occasional hoot from an owl who’s literally only there to make me think about the movie “The Fourth Kind” in the middle of the night. Fuck that owl, I don’t want to think about that movie.

Sometimes, though, when I’m having an Insomniac Episode ™ , I’ll be in the computer room (there’s no wifi in my house, we’re still in the 90′s) late at night, messing around, and for a short amount of time I’ll hear birds, like, screeching. And I never really thought much about it, because like, nature can do whatever it wants, but it started getting a little odd. Like, I’d leave the computer room to go downstairs for a bit, and I’d hear absolutely nothing. Dead silence, even though the kitchen is directly below it and thus has the same trees, or even if I leave the door open, it’s just quiet. But the second I step off the step and into the room, it starts back up. Weird, right? I started feeling really eerie about it, and started purposefully leaving the computer room whenever it started up.

And then, that lead me to noticing when it started up…It was always at 3:00am to 4:00 am. Which is, you know, The Witching Hour. The Ghost Hour. The Demon Hour. Plenty of names, but all the same concept. Any self-respecting paranormal fucker knows that things get weird at 3:00 am. The veil’s a little thinner then.

And that in itself freaked me out, but I always feel pretty freaked out at that time anyway, because as mentioned, I’m That Asshole Kid who hears disembodied voices and sees things out of the corner of my eye and always feels like something is right behind me. That’s only gotten better and worse with age in different ways- but anyway, while the bird stuff was freaking me out, I had yet to put together what it was, because frankly I’m just a wimp and I thought it was overall anxiety making me hear things.

So then, a little under a year ago, I’m watching some show about the paranormal and animals, and some dude is recounting a story about a ghost cat or something, and I remember being like…what the fuck, animals can be ghosts? What? Because that’s not something that ever occurred to me before, and not something I had heard of. And the guy went on to say something like if the animals were mistreated in life, they have as much chance to come back as a person-ghost who died tragically or something. And I just like, had a flash, of realizing how we had definitely mistreated the birds, and how I only hear screaming birds in their room, at 3:00 am, and it was just sort of an “everything clicked together moment”, and I was like, shit. I’m being haunted by my old pet parakeets.

I still hear them all the time, but I mean, I’m not turning out lights or telling them to shut up anymore, because honestly? They definitely have a reason to complain and make their voices heard over that. Like, if they need to let out frustration from beyond the grave, they definitely have my attention.

Okay, on to Amish Satan.

So in…Fifth grade, my class took a field trip to Lancaster, to tour some old coal mines and see some donkeys and stuff. It was nothing special, honestly, but it was a fun trip. So anyway, they had a little gift shop the let us go into because what’s a field trip without souvenirs? And they were mostly selling coal related stuff- I’ve got a little statue of a mouse made out of coal on my nightstand that I got there. But they were also selling these little Amish dolls, right? So as a young girl with a great love for dolls (I used to have a huge collection of all kinds), obviously I had to get one.

So I picked out a guy doll because I loved the shade of blue they used for his shirt, he had little black suspenders and a black hat, it was cute. Paid the store owner, got on the bus with my new little friend to head home.

(Completely unrelated to the story, but back then I was anime trash and decided to name this poor thing Kiyo after the main character from Zatch Bell lmao)

So anyway, on the bus home, I started getting slightly…unsettled by the fact he didn’t have a face. Like, it didn’t bother me when I bought him, but now it was starting to really freak me out. I kept asking the teachers why Amish dolls didn’t have faces, but no one had answers for me, which was frustrating, because I thought if I could understand the reasoning, it wouldn’t freak me out as much.

I was starting to regret buying it, but when we got back to school, my friend Rachel whipped out a sharpie and said “It’s yours anyway, just give him a face yourself!” which sounded like a relatively good idea. I drew the least intimidating face I could- two simple big eyes, point for a nose, big goofy smile with his tongue sticking out. It’s cute and dumb. Seriously, I still have the doll, you don’t look at this thing and think “Satan” at all.

So, me and my friends played with this doll all the time. We’d use to make him do tricks and flip him around and stuff- I remember one year we accidentally got him stuck on the Christmas tree and left him up there with all the decorations because we thought it was the funniest thing ever. This was like our go-to doll. We loved the thing. And sure, I’d have a weird experience every now and then, but I had absolutely no reason to think it was connected to the doll, because the things weren’t that out-of-ordinary for me.

So, in sixth grade, I had to start going to this free children’s hospital in the city called Shriners, and there were always a lot of Amish people there, because it was free and they have higher risks for birth defects and problems. And I was a super shy child, but at the same time I didn’t want to sit quietly in a waiting room for a millions years, so I’d usually quietly bond with a kid over some of the toys the waiting room had out, or if I was just reading I’d still make a point to smile politely at everyone I made eye contact with. The adults always seemed suspicious of me, but I figured it was just a whole ‘Amish vs The English’ thing, or because my health problems were a lot less physically obvious than their children’s and they were upset about that. It made me feel uncomfortable, but it was nothing serious.

Except one day, I was making small talk with one family and the little girl had a doll out, and I just said something like “Oh I have one of those dolls! It has a face on it though.” And her mother got all wide eyed and dragged her kids to the other side of the room while talking in their language (I don’t know the name of it) and I was just like???? Oh shit what did I do??? Like it was strange omg.

So anyway, time goes on. I get older, I stop playing with dolls, and actually end up selling or trashing most of them. I kept the Amish doll around though, but it wasn’t like me and my friends were playing with him every day anymore. He was just there. Something inside of me couldn’t bear to get rid of him, but I wasn’t doing anything with him either.

And after a while, it started to feel weird. Like…uncomfortable. Sort of a ‘why don’t you play with me anymore’ vibe, which sounded so stupid, because I was in high school at this point, I could not justify thinking an old toy was sad. This isn’t fucking Toy Story, you know? (Incidentally, while I love the Toy Story films, they’re also lowkey my worst nightmares).

I remember edging around him. Like, he still has the same dumb, cutesy face drawn on, but something was making me uncomfortable to be around him. I felt watched and guilty and nervous. At some point he ended up on the staircase leading to my computer room, just laying there for a couple years. Neither me or my mom ever bothered to touch him.

Okay, so then I go away for my only semester of college, and one day I was in the group chat with my friends and we were talking about creepy things that have happened to us. And I brought up this doll, and they were kinda interested and I remember saying “Watch me come home for break and he’s not gonna be wear I left him” as a joke.

I get home from break…Guess who’s not fucking on the steps like he’d been for the past 3 years?

I was cracking up, I remember texting my friend Zoe who started freaking out, but I was like “Okay, creepy coincidence, but obviously my mom must’ve just moved him or thrown him out”.

…Except my mom had no idea what I was talking about. She had no memory of this doll, let alone walking past it all the time for three years while it sat on the steps. She swore she didn’t move it.

So I was like…okay,

So then I’m back home officially and I still can’t find it. I searched everywhere- not even because I wanted the doll, just because not knowing where it was was making me feel even more nervous and anxious than having to tip-toe around it. I had random scary thoughts pop up in my head of it appearing in my room suddenly, or moving on it’s own. I was really freaking myself out- being paranoid is what I’m best at.

Okay, at some point down the line, one day I’m on my couch just flicking through channels, and I come across a marathon of a show called “Amish Haunting” (Honestly, check it out if you like ghost shows, it’s pretty cool). The episode that happens to be playing is feature a segment called “The Faceless Doll” and the paranormal experience that family had when an English neighbor gave their young daughter a doll with a face. Shit got fucked up for this family. Real shit guys.

They explained within the episode that the reason for faceless dolls is because the Amish believe that fake faces- like on dolls, in photographs, what have you- are an invitation for the Devil into your home. They believe he can use the fake eyes to see into your life and watch you and grow stronger and mess you up, basically. So, when 10 year old Molly drew that face on, not only was she accidentally disrespecting the Amish’s beliefs, she was basically unwittingly inviting Satan into her house, and then using him as a best play mate with her two other Catholic School Girl friends. Iconic.

I have since found the doll- mind you, in a place where he literally never should have been- but things seem…Calmer? I do occasionally feel a little watched, but honestly I feel like now that I’m aware my doll is potentially housing Satan, we’re on better terms? Allegedly a couple of my friends have had weird experiences after insulting him, but I wasn’t around so I can’t confirm or deny. Like, I definitely still get creeped out by him, but not as much, and I don’t feel a weird sad aura around the doll anymore.

So, now I’m just kinda hoping we stay on these chill mutual grounds and I don’t, like, get possessed or anything. But yeah, that’s the story of Amish Satan, you just gotta be a little respectful with him.

Kintsugi

Kintsugi (n) ­ The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 32,683

Warnings: Depression is a constant theme in this story, so if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable then please keep it in mind!

Author’s Note: The Taekook version is now up on AO3 if you’re interested!

Summary: Jungkook never expected to meet her, the girl that shone as bright as a million suns yet carried a darkness so heavy in her heart that it left her soul shattered, scrambling to pick up the splintered pieces and put herself back together again before she fell apart again. He never expected to meet her, but he did, and he wouldn’t change it for a thing.


Fridays nights were supposed to be a student’s greatest sanctuary – a time for winding down and finally breathing after the weight of a week that seemed to be never ending had been lifted from their shoulders. Some chose to party until they no longer remembered who they were, some chose to have movie marathons until the sun was high in the sky and their eyes were burning from the pixels that were now ingrained in their brains, and some chose to bask in their solitude and block out the world until Monday came around and forced human interaction again. Whatever it was, it was supposed to be that one moment of freedom before reality came crashing down once more.

It was supposed to be relaxing.

It was supposed to be calming.

It was supposed to be rejuvenating.

So what, pray tell, was sitting curled up on the floor against the wall in the hall, shivering in nothing but pyjamas with murderous thoughts as her sole company?

Anything but that.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you do one where the reader is a fan and meets josh for the first time?? thanks :) love u tay

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

“Come on, Jenna. Hurry up, we’re going to miss our chance!” you say, dragging her away from the guy she was just talking to and closer to the door you know Josh would be walking out of any minute now. “Do you know how often chances like these come about? Never. So stop talking to boys and help me get a picture!”

“Y/N. Chances like these come about all the time.“ Jenna says, she doesn’t seem annoyed though, so that was a nod in your direction. "I should know, you drag me all over the place any time you hear Josh is within a five mile radius.”

“That’s not true!” you protest. Jenna just gives you that look, the one she always uses when you’re full of shit. Okay, so maybe it’s a little bit true. But, it’s not your fault, really, all you want is a picture. Just one. “Okay fine. But still, today might be the day that I actually, finally get a picture with Josh, and that’s never going to happen if we’re standing on the other side of the road.”

Jenna just laughs, because she’s a really fucking good friend who puts up with your shit, like trailing her out of bed at two in the morning to try and get a picture with Josh.

The crowd is relatively small for a change, which is good, the less people there were, the bigger your chance was to get noticed. There’s only a few girls (and boys) crowding the door of the hotel Josh is about to leave, but not enough to cause too much of a scene to the clearly underage, drunken teenagers stumbling their way out of pubs. You stay near the back of the crowd, not wanting to push past people because you know how annoying and rude that is. It’s not too bad anyway, you can still see the door fairly well.

Jenna stands next to you, burying herself further into her jacket, because apparently it’s cold at two in the morning in the middle of winter, who would’ve known? (Clearly not you because you decided to put on a t-shirt with rolled up sleeves). “So, you think today could be the day then?” Jenna says, eyes raking over the small crowd in front of you.

“Well, yeah. There’s usually a lot more people than this so surely it’ll be easier to get noticed.” you barely gets the full sentence out before a loud scream from somewhere in front of you rings out.  Followed by a few more. A lot more. You snap your head toward the door, knowing that screaming can only mean one thing. And that’s when you see it. The messy yellow hair that you’ve seen so, so many times before but has never actually been this close to. And shit, he isn’t half close.

Josh makes his way through the people, stopping for pictures and hugs and you feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest because this is it. This is finally it.

It doesn’t take long for Josh to get to you. And you’re pretty sure you can hear his heart beat over everybody’s screaming. Josh frowns for a second before saying “You must be freezing.” And you have to tell every single cell in your body not to explode because Josh Dun just spoke to you.

“What? Oh. No, I’m fine. Can’t even feel it.” you say, and it’s true, you can hardly feel anything. “Could I get a picture? With you, that is. A picture with you.”

“Sure, love” -love! - before standing next to you and smiling.

You take a second to react because you can smell him, but then as you bring your phone up, already having the camera open. You place your finger over the volume button to take the picture and -

Josh is pulled away.

“Sorry, Josh. You don’t have time for anymore pictures.” A big bulky guy says.

“But I-”

“No, Josh. We need to leave or you wont be in Boston in time.” You decide right then and there that you do not like the bulky guy.

Josh looks over at you apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Another time, yeah?“ And he’s gone before you can even reply. Which is kind of a good thing because you’re pretty sure your voice would break in a very embarrassing way and you would probably start crying.

Jenna seems to realize this because she puts her arm around you and says, "It’s okay. We’ll keep trying, babe” as she leads you towards the nearest bar.

- - -

“I was so close” you say, drunkenly to an equally-as-drunk Jenna.

“I know, babe. I saw” she says, rubbing your back in a way that is supposed to be comforting and probably would be if you weren’t piss drunk and ready to puke.

“I was so close. I had my finger on the button, Jen. I was so close.”

“I know, I know. But next time, yeah. Even Josh said so.” And that’s when you realize that yeah, Josh did say that. Josh spoke to you. Josh Dun spoke to you.

“Jenna?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna puke” And then you do.

- - -

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve been locked up in your room for three days. Three days, Y/N. You know how weird that is for you. Just stop moping and come out with me,” Jenna says from outside your bedroom door.

“I’m not moping.” you say into your pillow, it’s a bit muffled but whatever. “Moping is pathetic and I am most definitely not doing it.”

“Fine, fine. Well, whatever it is your doing. Stop doing it and come out with me.  It’ll be fun, we’ll just go somewhere quiet, yeah? A small bar or something.”

You make a noise which clearly means fuck that, but you get up anyway because you just really want to get Jenna to stop complaining about you. “Fine. Just let me get ready.”

And half an hour later you come out of your room, hair in a ponytail and dressed in black jeans and a sweater.

“There she is! Nice to see you’ve stopped moping.“ Jenna snickers.

"I wasn’t moping!” you groan.

- - -

You do just go to a bar, which you’re very thankful for because you can’t really deal with dancing and people. There’s a few people in, not too many, making it fairly quiet except for the occasional drunken shout coming from the guys in the corner.

You go over to a booth in the back because you refuse to sit too out in the open, being the unsociable loser you were right now. Jenna goes and buys them the first round, coming back with two drinks in hand. They finish them quickly enough. And it starts to relax you. Makes you forget about stupid bulky guy pulling Josh away from you and by the third round, you decide it’s your turn to buy drinks.

You stumble a little on your way to the bar, which you will never admit if anyone brings it up, but when you do get there, you order the drinks and suddenly feel someone stand next to you.

“Hey,” you hear a voice say. And for a second you think maybe you’re actually still in your bedroom not-moping and this is all a dream because fuck if you didn’t know that voice. But then you look up and Josh is right there. Josh Dun is right there and you just know that this is real life because your dreaming skills could not imagine the way his cheeks are slightly flushed and his smile is slightly crooked and holy shit.

“Uh, hey.” you say, going for casual but it ends up just sounding like a very high-pitched squeek. Josh laughs though, which. Wow.

“So I do believe I owe you a picture.” he says. And that’s the exact moment that you stopped breathing for a whole like, twenty seconds, because Josh remembered him.

“I, uh, yeah. I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want. Like, you don’t owe me it.” You reply, your cheeks turning slightly pink.

Josh laughs again, pulling out his phone. “Don’t be stupid. I want to.” he says, before holding the camera out in front of their faces, telling you to smile. You do, of course. And Josh does too and the picture turns out amazing and everything is perfect until you realize.

“But it’s on your phone.” you say with a frown, “can we take another?” You’re already pulling your phone out but then Josh speaks again.

“No need,” he says with a grin “I’ll send it to you.”

You frown again, “But you don’t have my number.”

And that is when Josh’s grin turns into a smirk, “I will if you give me it.”

Holy shit.

You struggle to stay calm when Josh hands his phone over for you to put in your number, and your hands are shaking as you thumb it into the phone, but you get the job done and hand it back.

“I’ll see you soon then, yeah?” Josh says pulling you in to a short hug, and you just nod and hug back because you don’t know what else to do. And then Josh is pulling back and shooting you a small smile before making his way over to the booth where his friends must be.

You completely forget about the drinks as you make your way back over to Jenna, smiling like an idiot as Jenna has a gaping grin on her face. Your own grin only widens when your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out to see a text from an unknown number saying ‘Call me sometime, love.’ along with the picture of you and Josh.

And, yeah. You’re definitely going to do that.

There Is Enough Room For The Both Of Us

Originally posted by captain-busan

100 Ways To Say I Love You


You walked out of the bathroom, drying your hair with the towel. “Oh you’re done? Finally?” Christian teased. leaning against the window of his apartment. He lazily walked over and handed you a cup of coffee.

“It’s past midnight and you’re drinking coffee? You and Dabin both are some weird people..” You handed it back to him and made your way into the kitchen.

“If you’re looking for tea, I don’t have any. That stuff is nasty and bitter.” You groaned looking at the cup Christian was holding out to you. “Ride or die love.”

As time passed, you eventually grew tired. “Where are you going?’ You were making your way out of his room with a pillow in your arms. “I need my sleep. Who do you think I am? You?”

Christian patted the empty spot next to him. “Just sleep here. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

The bed was definitely more comfortable than the sofa. You joined him, pulling the blanket close to your chest.

Christian’s voice made your eyes snap open. “Baby..You’re not sleeping already right?” He snuggled closer to you. “This is the earliest I’ve gone to sleep in like 2 years.”

You joined him in the complaining. “That’s your loss not mine now let me be~”

His scratchy chuckle filled your ears. “Ride or die love.”

anonymous asked:

hey babe! i absolutely love your writing & was wondering if you could write a fic based around 1x10, jugs party? where betty and jughead decide to have their first time at his party? or maybe they leave the party early and head over to betty's house for a more quiet setting. could be sweet sex or not ;)

Thank you, honey! I hope you enjoy :)
Warning: aaaall the smut, if you hadn’t already guessed from the prompt that is…

***

So it wasn’t exactly going to plan. The bass was thumping throughout Betty’s entire body, drowning out her pounding heart as she twisted her hips to the beat. What she’d planned for was a quiet little gathering for Jughead’s birthday, his closest friends - the people who cared about him - and maybe some music and presents. She’d gone to so much care with the planning, finding the perfect sweater she knew would earn her an amused smirk, making the burger cake, hanging every blue and gold balloon and streamer so that they fell perfectly. Half of which were now torn and trampled as thrashing bodies fell through them wildly.

She’d been slightly perturbed, yes, but she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the infectious joy of her peers as they lost themselves in the thrill of sweaty bodies grinding against one another, underage drinking, and much needed relief from the daily grind of high school. It had pulled her in like a magnet, encircling her in carefree abandon until she was surrounded, succumbing to delinquency.

It was a long shot to try and drag Jughead into the throngs with her, pulling gently on his hands as his feet stayed firmly planted beneath the living room doorway. She wanted him to feel as free as she was beginning to, adrenaline buzzing beneath her skin.

“Come on, Juggie, dance with me?” she pleaded as a song she recognised began to play, throwing him her most seductive smile and looking up at him beneath thick fluttering lashes. Butterflies erupted in the pit of his stomach at how beautiful she looked beneath the dim flashing lights, strobes highlighting her golden hair like a halo. She looked dangerously angelic - the devil was a fallen angel, he thought sardonically to himself as he offered her a small smile.

“It’s not really my scene, Betts,” he shrugged, gut twisting at the way her plump bottom lip pushed out slightly, begging to be bitten. As much as the thought of holding her impossibly close to his body sent unfamiliar shockwaves along his every nerve, the idea of being surrounded by the hoard of people that were no strangers to his torment felt suffocating. “But you go, have fun. I’ll be waiting for you,” he promised, rubbing small circles against the back of her hand with his thumb. She held his gaze a while longer, torn, searching the sincerity in his bright blue eyes before nodding slowly. She leant in for a sweet peck against his lips, the public display causing him to blush and duck his head slightly, before slipping into the masses.

Betty had to admit, a while later, that she might have gotten slightly carried away by it all. It just felt so wonderful to not have to think about murder, or Polly, or her parents for just one blissful moment. She paused in her dancing as sweat began to drip down her temples, breathing heavily as her eyes scanned the edges of the makeshift dance floor.

He wasn’t difficult to spot, sitting perched on the edge of the table set up for drinks by the front window. He was watching her, a soft, enamoured expression planted firmly on his features. She looked so beautifully happy, so wildly free. He could have watched her all night and this party would have been worth it. Jughead was still there, like he promised he’d be, always waiting for her, always understanding when she needed room to breathe or wanted him close at hand.

Betty started towards him, pushing gracefully through the crowd until she was standing before him, hands slipping up his thighs. She parted them slightly as he gulped, placing herself between them and leaning forward. Her slightly dry lips pressed a kiss against his jawline, continuing down his neck, covering his quickening pulse point with her mouth, swiping her tongue over it. Jughead swallowed thickly, shifting slightly in his seat. He eyed the red cup she’d placed next to him on the table. Taking a steadying breath he placed his palms on her shoulders to hold her back for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Betty… maybe, do you think there’s another force in control right now?” he asked, nodding slightly to the cup. She followed his gaze, mouth parting in confusion. Realisation dawned on her, quickly being replaced by a menacing grin as her fingers dug more firmly into the dark denim of his jeans, grazing the crease at his groin. All the air left his lungs as a rush of blood travelled south. She balanced on tiptoes to rest her lips against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“It’s just soda, Jug,” she whispered, imparting her secret for his ears only. “I am completely,” she bit his earlobe gently, high on adrenaline, “one hundred percent in control.” He’d never seen this side of her before, unable to chalk it up to intoxication any longer it completely baffled him. He definitely wasn’t complaining though. She pulled back to meet his eyes, brilliant green shining with excitement, hints of nervousness peeking through as she scanned his face. His hands wrapped themselves around her waist, holding her warm body close, breathing in her scent of sweat mixed with vanilla perfume.

The moment was broken when Betty was suddenly jostled from behind, unconcerned party-goer falling into her in a drunken haze and throwing her further into Jughead’s hold. He caught her as she stumbled, throwing a sharp glance over her shoulder at the offender before turning back to check she was alright.

“You ok?” he asked, smoothing her hair with a short caress. She nodded, waving a dismissive hand and cuddling up closer to him.

“A lot more crowded than I wanted in here…” she said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe we could take some time out at my place? It’s a lot quieter over there,” she mumbled bashfully, bright pink flush coating the tops of her cheeks, travelling down beneath the collar of her shirt. Jughead wished he could follow the pretty colour on it’s decent. He nodded, mouth suddenly numb at what he was sure she was implying. He followed her on wobbling legs as she led him quickly out of the room, gratefully sucking in a lungful of fresh, cold air from the night outside.

They were comfortably quiet as they crossed the street to Betty’s house, hands fit tightly together, a nervous energy sparking between them.

“Nobody home?” Jughead asked as she opened the door to a still, silent darkness. He wasn’t sure if his tone was wary or hopeful; he couldn’t even begin to sort out the mess of emotions that were turning about his head right now. She shook her head, kicking off her shoes by the door. He followed suit, feeling her eyes on him the whole time.

“Nope,” she sighed, with a vague gesturing around her. “Mom took Polly into the city for the weekend - she wanted them to spend some ‘quality time’ together now she knows Polly is spying on the Blossoms,” Betty explained, quote marks heavy in her voice as she shook her head slightly. He chuckled at her sarcasm, both of them staring at one another as the conversation drew to a close. He smiled at her, small and unsure, shifting his feet awkwardly, like he did under her gaze that day in her bedroom, the morning of Jason’s funeral. Betty squared her shoulders. This was ridiculous, it was Jughead standing before her. He was still just her Jughead, despite the faint notes of promise that hung in their air above them, the slight shift in the atmosphere that teased that something more was about to happen. She tilted her head towards the stairs. “Shall we?” she asked innocently.

The question hung heavily around them, loaded with meaning. Shall they? He could see the tender understanding in her eyes. He’d told her, in a barely audible whisper beneath the sanctity of a hastily constructed fort of blankets and pillows, one night after he climbed through her window seeking the comfort of her arms, that he loved her. That he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember, never dreaming that he would get to hold her the way he was now, not even close. Her eyes had shone with unshed tears and she pressed a shaky kiss to his lips, confessing her own love against the curve of his mouth. He’d gone on to describe the ache he felt at the thought of having her so close, but never getting to touch. He’d never felt that for anyone but her, didn’t think it even possible, he had no interest in anyone else ever. But now they were finally together she’d awakened something within him that he didn’t even know lay dormant. He wanted to explore every inch, try everything new, if it was with Betty.

He nodded, smile warm and determined, as he picked up her outstretched hand once more and followed her up the staircase.

The thumping bass of the party could be heard faintly through Betty’s closed window still. Jughead wandered over, looking out with a tired amusement at the flashing lights and stumbling bodies he could see pouring out from within his new residence. Betty walked up behind him silently, slipping her hands around his waist and resting her palms on his chest, chin finding its place on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry your party turned into… that,” she whispered in the quiet of her room, grimacing as another person stumbled onto the Andrews’ front lawn. Jughead shook his head, turning in her grip to rest his hands on her cheeks, turning away from the party for one final time. “I just wanted to celebrate-” He cut off her worrying with a deep kiss, pulling every last breath from her lungs. He released her slowly, only moving back an inch to gaze into her eyes with the strongest sincerity.

“It’s ok, Betty, I know what it meant. It’s not your fault that Cheryl descended, flying monkeys in tow,” he smirked. She allowed herself a giggle before she bit her lip at the renewed intensity in his eyes. “I’m just happy I get to spend my birthday here, now, with you.” Betty felt herself melt into him, leaning back in to place her lips over his once more. It didn’t matter how many times she experienced this feeling, it would never be enough to sate the desire that flared up in the pit of her stomach, rising up until it flowed throughout her entire body and she felt like she was floating.

She walked them back, never breaking the kiss, until her knees hit the mattress behind her, falling into a mess of uncoordinated limbs. He hovered over her, content to stare down at the heavenly beauty that lay beneath him. He didn’t believe in god but if he did then only he could have made something as perfect as Betty Cooper. She squirmed under his gaze, and he was more than happy to continue at the sweet pink blush it caused to form over her cheeks. Once more he followed it down her neck to where it dipped teasingly below her shirt. She followed his eyes, leaning up before her nerves got the better of her and pulled the shirt and jumper over her head in one fluid motion.

Jughead swallowed, feeling almost naughty as he let his eyes trail down her torso, the smooth skin of her stomach, the pretty blue lace cupping her breasts where they heaved with her every anticipatory breath before him. He’d barely blinked before she was reaching behind her to release the clasps of her bra, shimmying the straps down her arms and throwing it away to join her other discarded clothes on the floor. He’d never been this close to a woman’s bare chest in real life before but he was pretty certain the Betty’s was perfect. He lifted a trembling hand, dancing his fingers up her side with a feather light touch that made her shift and giggle musically, until he was closing his palm was squeezing the soft mound gently. Her shaky inhale was encouraging, spurring him to knead her breast gently, thumb rubbing across the hardening pink peak. A low whine left her throat and he repeated the action, sure he’d never tire of eliciting that sound. His confidence grew with every moment, leaning forward to trail wet, opening mouthed kisses down her neck, across her chest, until his lips sealed around her nipple. Betty gasped, hands coming up to pull at his hair, back arching into his face. Her hips jerked as he swiped his tongue across the flesh, alternating between gentle sucks and teasing bites. Her thigh jolted, rubbing against the ever growing bulge in Jughead’s pants. The involuntary groan he let out vibrated through her chest, causing her to flush with heat, beads of sweat gathering in the valley of her breast which he quickly licked away as he moved to give the same attention to the other side.

He would have been happy to spend forever worshipping every part of her chest, her body, but the pleasurable bruising sensation was becoming too much for Betty to handle, pulling him back by his ebony waves so she could paw at the hem of his shirt, catching his eye in a silent request for permission. He lifted his arms, both laughing breathlessly as the offending material got caught over his head, Jughead emerging looking more dishevelled than before. Bare chests pressed against each other for the first time as their lips connected once more, tingling sensation heightened by their already swollen lips.

Jughead’s hips circled almost subconsciously against Betty’s as he sucked a blossoming purple bruise against the side of her neck, a swell of unusual pride flourishing in his chest at the thought of her walking round school with his marks on her skin, sneakily trying to hide the bites he left on her, running her fingers over it as she daydreamed about the feel of his touch on her skin. His wandering thoughts only served to turn him on further, hard-on feeling suffocated by the tight zipper on his jeans.

Fumbling fingers battled with the button of her jeans. He shot her a withering look as she giggled, every inch of her looking sinful beneath him, hair falling from her ponytail, pupils blown wide with lust, lips bee-stung and enticing. He peeled the material off her legs, following the reveal of tanned skin with kisses to her abdomen, hipbone, thigh, his cool breath fanning over her core as she rubbed her legs together in anticipation. His jeans were the next to go, black boxers doing little to hide his arousal above her.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done a little ‘research’ over the past couple of weeks. Thoughts of being this intimate with Betty had become a constant invasion in his mind as of late, interrupting him every time he smelt the strawberry of her shampoo or saw her crack her neck during a study session. He wanted to be able to make her feel as good as possible, she deserved to have the best first time he could possibly give her. His fingers dipped over the top of her sinfully small panties as he tore his eyes away to meet her gaze, eyebrow raised in question. Her breath caught as she nodded her consent, lifting her hips slightly to help him pull the lace down her legs.

She held her breath as he stared down at her, fully naked before him for the first time. He thought his heart might burst at the privilege. Her pulse quickened as his fingers trailed up her skin, legs falling apart slightly as they reached the apex of her thighs, hovering above her. The first swipe of his fingers through her wet heat had her head falling back against the pillows, eyes sliding shut with a moan. His teeth dug into his lower lip as the sound, the sensation, shot straight to his groin, hips jolting as he tried to steady himself, refusing to let his eyes close and miss a moment of this. His middle finger found her entrance, pushing an inch inside before halting.

“Jug…” His pause was too much for Betty, hips thrusting forward until the digit slid inside her fully. The feeling of her dripping, silken walls clenching around him was almost too much - he couldn’t help but imagine how she’d feel around other parts of his anatomy. Carefully he pulled his hand back, almost all the way, before pushing back in, starting to build a steady rhythm. She was writhing beneath him, high pitched whimpers causing a pleasant buzz to simmer beneath his skin, before he remembered her neglected bundle of nerves. He brought his thumb up to rub in small quick circles, delighting in her reaction. Her hips flew up at the new touch, his other hand coming to steady her as he continued his motions. All telltale signs of her impending orgasm began, thighs quivering, muscles tightening, before stars exploded behind her eyelids. Her mouth dropped open in a delicate o as she rode out the high, his fingers unrelenting until she began to soften, limbs falling heavily against the mattress. He withdrew his hand with a pleased grin, her eyes fluttering open. She smirked.

“What are you looking so smug about?” she quipped, humour glowing in her sparklingly eyes as she trailed a finger down his stomach, hooking it over the waistband of his boxers. He shivered, neglected erection giving a painful twitch as Jughead pulled in a sharp breath through his nose. She leant up on still weak elbows, fishing in her bedside table for the condom she’d stolen from Archie’s stash a little while ago - just in case.

“Betty… it’s ok, we don’t have to-” he began, perfectly content to just pleasure her tonight, despite his betraying body. She cut him off, pulling him down till his face was inches from hers.

“I want to feel you, Jughead. All of you,” she whispered fiercely. His groan was swallowed by her mouth as she attacked his lips once more, fingers creeping lower to pull the last article of clothing that separated them down. He kicked the boxers off his ankles, pulling back as he watched her eyes wander, taking in his manhood for the first time. She tore the foil packet, reaching forward to roll the condom down his member. He blew out a breath at the intoxicating feeling of her warm hands encircling him.

She lay back, opening her legs wider to accommodate him, breath leaving her in unsteady gasps. He lined himself up against her opening, leaning down to kiss her as he began to push forwards. It was slow and so pleasurable it was almost to the point of pain but eventually he stilled, fully sheathed within her.

“Are you ok?” he breathed, muscles shaking as he forced himself to remain still while she grew accustomed to this new intrusion. She shifted slightly, face twisted in thought.

“Yeah… yeah, you can move now,” she nodded, stroking the backs of her fingers across his forehead, down his cheek, hooking her ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him deeper. Jughead began his movements, pumping in and out of her as she clenched deliciously around him, the sensation dizzying. Her moans propelled him forward, picking up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room in no time, as they hurtled towards their ends, each bringing one another to the edge.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer,” he confessed a while later, dipping his head into the crook of her neck as his thrusts became uneven. She hushed him, digging her fingers into the short hairs at the base of his neck.

“It’s ok, Juggie, come on,” she encouraged, figuring out how to clench in time with his thrusts. His mouth dropped open in a silent shout, tendons in his neck standing out as his hips stuttered, releasing inside of her. She guided him through it, hands stroking down the damp muscles of his back as his arms gave out, collapsing on top of her.

The sounds of their harsh breathing was all the filled the room, both of them wrapping their heads around what just took place between them. When Jughead thought he could finally regain control of his limbs he rolled off her, not having to wait long before she curled into his side. The sweet silence stretched on between them for some time before he hummed in contentment.

It was awkward, and messy, and there was very little finesse, but neither of them could imagine their first time going any other way. Jughead didn’t know if he would ever get the grin off his face, slow warmth pooling in his stomach as he still felt every touch of her skin against his with an electric spark. Betty was glowing, a light shining brightly from within her as she relaxed, truly, for the first time in months.

“Was that… was I good?” she asked eventually, voice small. The fingers that were stroking up and down her arm halted in shock, disbelieving chuckle bursting from his lips.

“I can definitely say, with complete certainty, that was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” he murmured, looking down at her in awe. She met his mischievous eyes, giggling at his words before tucking herself more firmly against him, her every curve fitting perfectly against his side. Yeah, it was the best one she’d ever given too.

Girl Code || Part 2

(part one) 

or 

y/n likes harry. so does y/f/n. so who’s going to be the first one to break the girl code? 

+

“You don’t have feelings for him, Y/N. You don’t! It’s as simple as that.” You mumbled to yourself, furiously wiping away at the leather benches before turning to clean the weight plates. 

It was currently 8 in the morning - an hour before you were supposed to come in for work, but you figured you’d come in early. Mainly because you were stressing out a little, and working always helped keep your mind off of things. There was just something about that musty, sweaty gym smell that made you forget a lot of things. 

“He’s just a friendly person.” You shrugged to yourself, letting out a grunt as you set one of the plates back into position with a heavy clank. “I’m also a friendly person. So we’ll be friendly to each other.” 

Who came up with this dumb girl code, anyway? Why couldn’t you break it? This wasn’t fair. What Y/F/N was doing wasn’t fair whatsoever. It was completely disrespectful to call dibs on another human being, and frankly, she was just being immature about the whole situation. So what if you liked Harry? Of course, you hated when Y/F/N was upset with you. You would never admit it, but sometimes you felt like your friendship with her was more of a one way friendship. You’d give, she’d take.. You’d give again, she’d take again.. You dealt with it fine, but for once in your life, maybe you’d stand up for yourself! Maybe you would even go as far as to admit your feelings for Harry to him! Or.. Or maybe that was a bad idea. That was probably a bad idea. You hopped up onto one of the treadmills, wiping over the dashboard a couple times as you got lost in your thoughts. 

“G’morning, Y/N.” You practically jumped ten feet into the air when you heard Harry’s voice, making you turn around quickly with an overly-happy smile on your face. 

“Harry! Why are you.. Why are you here so early? You don’t usually appear till the late afternoon.” You swallowed thickly, watching as he stepped up onto the treadmill next to yours. “Not that I’m judging. I mean, you can totally come here whenever you want, cos the gym opens at 6:30 and goes until 10:30-” 

“You’re cute, yeh know tha’?” Harry chuckled slightly, pressing his finger against the start button before his treadmill began to whir underneath him. You cleared your throat, a nervous smile seemingly glued on your face. It was only then that you realized you were basically staring at Harry as he ran. 

“I’ll make a smoothie for you when you’re done. It’ll give you a boost for the rest of the day.” You chirped, stepping off the treadmill before letting out a breath. At least now you could distract yourself with making a smoothie instead of gawking at Harry. 

“With extra-” 

“-Bananas. I got it.” You smiled, Harry laughing lightly before nodding and thanking you. 

“Why do I have to clean up the men’s locker room? The task board clearly has Niall’s name pinned under that job.” You grumbled, letting out a huff as Y/F/N handed you the mop. One good thing about working with Y/F/N was that you were guaranteed a work buddy - The downside was that she was basically your boss and could tell you to do whatever she didn’t want to do. 

“All you have to do is mop up a little. And restock the towels. It’s really not that hard once you think about it.” Y/F/N hummed, helping herself to one of the granola bars stacked neatly on the display counter. 

“But I already cleaned the women’s locker room this morn-” 

“Y/N, what does this tag say?” Y/F/N munched on her bar as she pointed to her name tag. 

“It says Y/F/N.” You stated dumbly, raising an eyebrow. 

“I mean what does it say above my name?” 

“…Manager.” 

“Case closed.” 

Case closed.” You mimicked Y/F/N as you dunked the mop in the bucket of soapy water before sloshing it around on the ground. You didn’t know why this couldn’t wait - You weren’t even supposed to be in here, this was a men’s locker room! And you were clearly not a man! You wheeled the bucket over to the corner before bending down to pick up the stack of towels, heading towards the designated shelf. 

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be in here, love.” You swallowed thickly as you saw Harry walking towards you, a towel hanging low on his hips as droplets of water cascaded down his bare body. Lord have mercy. “I won’t tell anyone only cos I like you.” 

“Well, thank you very much.” And then, it happened. Right when you thought everything was going to be alright, it happened. It was like slow motion when you felt a foot fly out from under you, the towels flying up in the air before you were hurdling forward. And the next thing you knew? 

“I’m not complaining.” Your cheeks were most definitely hotter than the sun once you realized you were straddling Harry, his hands placed on your hips. 

“I am.. so sorry!” You squeaked out, trying to get up only to have your foot slip against the wet tiles. Harry let out a puff when your palm dug into his chest during your attempt to get up, a huge smile breaking out on his face. 

“S’alright, Y/N. We’re all a little klutzy sometimes.” He giggled, looking around at the many towels that was strewn around you. There was a moment of silence before a voice appeared from behind you. 

“Y/N - Can I talk to you for a second?” Uh-oh.

Snow Day

Trapped in a vehicle with Spencer Reid, a snowy case, and warm cuddles. What more could you want?

No warnings.

Masterlist

“Come on, Spencer. I happen to like my toes.”

“I happen to like my personal space.”

A glaring contest was taking place across the back seat of the stalled SUV where you and Spencer sat. Your legs claimed the majority of the cushion, pushing against his thighs on the other side. He shifted away yet again, opting for the comfort of the jacket Hotch left in here instead of the warm body offering heat just inches away from him. You didn’t blame the blizzard; North Dakota had sent out a warning over the radio after all. You didn’t even blame the SUV for wimping out; the wear and tear the team put on it was enough to make anyone want to give up.

Spencer you could blame, though. Him and his stubborn ass refused to surrender the dignity you two had left and just cuddle to conserve heat. Sure the team was in route, but the snow promised at least an hour’s delay and you were not willing to lose appendages because he could not remove the stick from his ass.

“You’re the doctor here. Our heater is broken, the whole damn car is. What’s worse, germs or frostbite?”

“Realistically, germs can have affect much faster than the cold can. They begin taking over the cells in your body within minutes. Meanwhile frostbite takes several hours to set in and we only have to wait one.”

You huffed, breath fogging up as you buried your stinging face into the wool scarf wrapped around your neck. Your jacket plus Morgan’s was not enough to block out the relentless cold. Something was clicking and it took you a few seconds to realize it was your teeth. A sigh was the next sound to fill the space, this one originating from the doctor when he heard it as well.

“Come on then.” He lifted the jacket from his side to make peace.

Defiance flared up for only the time it took for him to start shivering. You dove into his warmth, hugging every part of him your icicle fingers could reach. Your nose pressed to the heated nook of his neck and he hissed in complaint. The hair at the base of his neck tickled your forehead, reminding you just how much you appreciated the steadily growing hair.

With Hotch’s jacket draped over the both of you now and the community body temperature circulating, you relaxed against the new but not unwelcome touch of his arms encircling you. Your body ached as feeling returned to it; that could also be from the fact that your unrequited crush held you.

“This is how a lot of our cases start,” he mumbled into your hair. “Stranded, unfavorable conditions.”

“A loud mouth to draw in the killer.”

You felt the laugh more than heard it and it drew your curious gaze up to his fog stained glasses. “Can you even see through those?”

“Can’t really see far off without them.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for the unsub, or maybe our rescuers,” you promised, tugging them from his face and wiping them carefully against your shirt.

His protest was in the form of chasing the glasses with his head. This resulted in his nose crashing against yours and his frozen lips brushing your cheek. He jolted, brown eyes flaring like he might accuse you of bewitching him. With his form painted against the frost covered window, you could only touch the point on your skin that simply burned from the accident.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he snapped.

“Terrible,” you deadpanned, reluctantly returning his now clean glasses and ducking into the safety of the jackets.

“Not you!” he blurted instantly, reading the rejection as easily as he might solve an elementary math equation. “Trust me, you’re fine. You’re more than fine, you’re stunning and confusing and almost on my lap which is definitely leaning towards the confusing bit because you barely talk to me at work. Meanwhile all I do is ramble, just like I’m doing now. I’ll help you file the HR report if you want.”

“Mind telling me exactly what I should put on there? That was hardly a kiss to complain about.”

“I am too cold to tell if you’re insulting my kissing abilities or deliberately trying to provoke me.”

“I just figure if I’m going to write a report on you, it should have something more interesting on it.”

You were edging closer, putting your latest profiling theory to the test. Spencer was scared to touch you but not because you revolted him; it was because he feared he might not stop. As he allowed your mouths meet, you prayed he would not.

sheridandwyer  asked:

May I please request headcanons for the RFA + V + Saeran finding out MC is both very ticklish and has a tickle kink/gets turned on when they tickle them? They'd probably try to hide the fact that they're turned on/pretend they aren't ticklish so their s/o wouldn't find out, becuase they're embarrassed and feel like a freak because of it? Sorry I made this really descriptive it's just something I personally have been struggling with lately. Thank you so much!

There’s definitely nothing to be ashamed of with a tickle kink! I actually think it’s pretty cute and I feel like the RFA would think so too. Idk why but I find kinks a really fascinating thing because everyone’s are different and individual yet some are really common. 

I think I mentioned in a previous one about implied NSFW so the same is with this- it’s implied but there’s not any of the good stuff! Anyway, I hope these scenarios are ok! ~H x

RFA and MC with a tickle kink

Yoosung:

-You thought that Yoosung was the kind of person who would probably be very ticklish
-So you thought it would be fine if neither of you tickled the other
-A foolproof plan
-Not
-You were playing LOLOL and Yoosung was beating you effortlessly so you decided he needed distracting
-And you kissed him quite passionately whilst he was trying to defeat the monster
-“That’s cheating!” Yoosung declared after you pulled away, his face bright red from the sudden affection.
-You giggled and sat back down, thinking you’d won
-But Yoosung wanted revenge
-He came behind you and tickled you
-You immediately squealed before covering your mouth
-But Yoosung had figured that you were ticklish and was not about to show mercy
-So he continued to tickle you until
-“Mmm, Yoosung,” you accidentally moaned.
-He stopped and looked at you for a second
-Both of your faces were bright red
-“I really like it when you tickle me,” you whispered seductively, too turned on to care now.
-Yoosung captured your lips hungrily
-And you happily complied, kissing him back
-LOLOL was long forgotten by the time you’d finished

Zen:

-You knew Zen was always giving you hugs and occasionally catching your ticklish spots
-But it was ok because he was always happy to kiss you if you suddenly decided to make out with him
-Still, you didn’t want him to know how turned on proper tickling made you
-And you intended it to stay that way
-Until one time, Zen was massaging your feet whilst ranting about his coworkers
-And he decided to gently tickle your foot
-Luckily, your foot wasn’t a place where you necessarily got turned on
-But you still laughed
-“Aww, babe are you ticklish?” Zen smirked.
-“No,” you lied, trying to make sure he didn’t go any further than your foot
-Never mind his beast, you were about to become a beast
-“I think I’ll have to test that theory,” Zen hummed, obviously not believing you
-No no no no no
-That was the only thought going through your mind as he started to tickle you
-Very quickly, the laughing turned into soft moans
-Before you knew it, Zen was pinned under you and your noses were touching, both of you breathing heavily
-“Sorry, Zen. Tickling does things to me. Especially if it’s you,” you explained as briefly as possible.
-“I definitely wouldn’t apologise if I was you, babe.” Zen looked you up and down with a smile.
-You quickly kissed him deeply, roaming his mouth with your tongue
-Zen’s arms trailed down to your waist and he tickled you slowly again
-With a sharp groan, you grinded down against him
-It took a matter of seconds for both of your clothes to be scattered across the floor
-Zen definitely loved tickling you

Jaehee:

-She always seems so proper that you never thought she’d be one to tickle you
-Boy were you wrong
-You were making the two of you a cup of coffee when Jaehee came up behind you
-You thought she was just giving you a hug
-But then she tickled you
-With a squeal, you quickly put the coffee down and turn around
-“Jaehee- I- you shouldn’t-“ you tried to warn but you were already out of breath and feeling aroused.
-“Oh. Sorry- I won’t tickle you if you don’t like it,” she apologised.
-That was good. Then she wouldn’t know
-But you really wanted her now
-“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just..” you paused for a bit, “I kind of have a tickle kink.”
-Jaehee blushed and giggled
-Giggled
-“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” she said when she noticed that you went red.
-“It’s weird,” you argued, but Jaehee shook her head.
-“Am I allowed to tickle you, then?” she asked.
-“Only if you’re prepared for the consequences,” you breathed.
-Jaehee was definitely tickling you now
-Which turned into making out
-And before you knew it, you were underneath her as her hands tickled a different part of your body, making you squirm in delight
-Yep, Jaehee was definitely allowed to tickle you

Jumin:

-He wasn’t really a fan of tickling
-Much to your relief
-But he was having a bad day and wanted to curl up with you on the sofa
-You were happy to listen to his complaining about the annoying people he worked with
-Often they made you laugh
-Which made Jumin laugh
-Because he wants you to be happy
-But then he slowly starts tracing patterns on your side
-Right on your ticklish spot
-It’s slow enough at first, but then you shift slightly and giggle
-“MC, are you ticklish?” Jumin asked.
-“Oh, not really. You just… made me laugh,” you lied, hoping that he wouldn’t find out.
-Your evasion only made him more curious, so he decided to tickle you further
-The little squeals you made were so cute to him
-Until you moaned and he realised why you’d tried to hide it
-As a man of many kinks, he knew immediately
-Please never make me write that sentence again- it just sounded weird
-“So you really are ticklish,” Jumin mused in his deep, seductive voice, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes.
-Boy are his eyes mesmerising
-And his voice
-What was once an innocent cuddling session certainly doesn’t feel like that now
-“Yeah,” you breathed out in defeat.
-“Good, because I know all the good spots to hit,” Jumin smirked.
-You didn’t miss the innuendo
-He connected his lips with yours, starting a deep kiss
-And then you were making out
-And then you were removing each others’ clothes
-And now you were ready to put Jumin’s statement to the test
-Cover your eyes, Elizabeth the 3rd

Seven:

-You were lying to yourself if you thought you’d last a day in this boy’s presence without being tickled
-He is the tickle master
-And he is merciless
-The first time you were over at his house, he cleared his throat
-So you looked up in surprise
-“I must declare,” Seven said in a mock serious tone, “that it’s time for a tickle war!”
-“No, Saeyoung!” you screeched.
-But he tickled you anyway
-You bit your lip hard to stop any… sounds… coming out
-But obviously not hard enough
-The second you moaned, Seven laughed
-“Ohohoho, I have uncovered MC’s fatal weakness,” he grinned.
-“Saeyoung, please!” you groaned, covering your face with your hands
-It was still way too early into the relationship for you two to be opening up about kinks
-“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” he winked.
-Warning: If Seven promises something and then winks
-He won’t keep that promise
-“Does that mean you won’t tickle me, then?” you asked.
-Ha
-The answer was no, obviously
-So you decided to shut Seven up by kissing him
-You needed to relieve yourself somehow, if only slightly
-And it certainly shut him up

Saeran:

-Saeran wasn’t really one for tickling
-So you thought you were pretty safe
-But he lives in the same house as Seven, remember?
-You were over at the Choi residence when Seven decided to declare a tickle war
-You immediately directed it to Saeran to avoid you getting tickled
-He let out very cute giggles
-But when Saeran realised you were ganging up on him too
-He attac
-He decided to ambush you with tickles
-To which you ended up squirming and squealing
-Seven quickly realised and left
-Thanks, Seven
-“Saeran, please, stop,” you begged.
-He can tell that you secretly like it
-But it’s not until you moan that he realises
-“So it’s like that, huh?” he whispered in your ear after pausing his tickling, straddling your waist.
-“Sorry. Tickling is just- really-“ you tried to explain.
-“Got it,” he winked before kissing you hungrily.
-He’s not going to forget about that fact
-Guys, please move to the bedroom. Seven could walk in any second

V:

-He wouldn’t really be a ticklish person
-But he’s the type to laugh anyway because he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone
-That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love to give tickles
-Because he does
-V had wanted to take some pictures of you at the park
-You had tried to disagree but he was having none of it
-But for some reason, you weren’t quite smiling like your usual self today
-V asked you to stay on the bench and guard his camera whilst he bought some hot drinks from the hut in the park
-But he actually had a secret plan
-He bought the drinks, but after placing them down on the bench, staying out of sight, he tickled you
-You immediately squealed before feeling your core heat up
-Oh dear
-“Sorry, love, I didn’t realise you were so ticklish,” he smiled as he came into view.
-“Oh, it’s not just that, actually,” you blushed, hoping that you wouldn’t have to expand.
-But V was curious now
-“If it’s not just being ticklish, then what is it?” he asked, deciding to tickle you again.
-You end up panting when he finally relents
-And look up at him with passion in your eyes
-You grab the front of his jacket and connect his lips to yours
-That’s better
-When you pull back, V looks at you with even more confusion
-“Tickling… turns me on,” you admitted embarrassedly.
-“Aah,” V finally understood, “In that case I’ll make sure to be a bit more careful with my tickling i.e. not in a public park.”
-“Jihyun!” you scolded.
-Before kissing him again

Dear Billy, Today I Saw Kong Skull Island

I’m still a bit ill and thus couldn’t risk eating popcorn, but it was so worth it.

Some assorted, mostly spoiler-free thoughts (full review to come after I get a chance to see it again):

  • Cinemasins and Cracked.com will hate this movie, as they always do
  • Like Godzilla (2014), I absolutely loved it even though it isn’t a flawless movie
  • Like Godzilla (2014), its few flaws will be harped on by the fandom so hard that I will become irrationally defensive of it as a result
  • John C. Reilly almost steals the show from Kong in the best possible way - he is one of the best human characters in any kaiju movie
  • This feels like a King Kong story told in the mold of a Godzilla story, and I love that
    • Not just in a “we’re setting up Godzilla vs. King Kong” way or a “Hollywood always copies the formula of a successful film dozens of times over until people are sick of it” way, either.  This movie actually feels very different from Godzilla (2014) while still feeling like they belong in the same universe.  Its approach to monsters and the man vs. nature concept is what particularly feels like a Godzilla thing more than a Kong thing - it’s the first movie to defend the native people and fauna of Skull Island instead of casting them unanimously as monsters
    • I wish the Skull Islanders had gotten more to do, but after marathoning all the previous Kong movies, I’m more than content with them barely getting to do anything so long as it means they aren’t being a horrible racist caricature of various indigenous people.  Especially after the 2005 movie, which, while a wonderful movie in several respects, is definitely the worst of the bunch when it comes to presenting the Skull Islanders as people.
  • The monster designs are ingenious and creative, making Skull Island once again feel mysterious and strange despite how commonplace CGI monsters are these days
  • The monster fights were fucking marvelous and and common.  I am sure people will complain there weren’t enough of them or that some were too short.
    • one of the shorter ones also had one of my favorite “monsters as animals with needs and motivations” moments in the movie that was really funny and endearing and I’m 100% certain people will hate it because it was such a “curbstomp” battle but fuck it sometimes you want to see *SPOILERS OMITTED*
  • By far the best part of the movie for me was the fact that four little kids were sitting behind me having the time of their lives watching an awesome monster movie.  During the end credits (like me and my family, they were waiting for the stinger) they chattered about how they hoped Mothra would be showing up in the Monsterverse next, so they were clearly Godzilla fans who knew they shit rather than complete newbies to the world of kaiju.  I wish I had a movie like this when I was their age.
  • The stinger is SO worth it.