I first saw Woodstock running across a turnpike we were turning onto late one dark night in Peachtree Georgia Atlanta. Whilst we were shooting Lawless. He was a stray. 11 weeks old. Oh No we thought. Quickly Go get that dog not even sure it was a dog. Actually. We stopped the car. It was pitch black literally. I used my phone to light the road in case a car came round the turnpike and couldn’t see me. And malletted me. And I tried to cover some ground but he was fast. I watched this thing Running towards the highway in the pitch black making good speed towards the cars and lorries and I remember seeing what were its floppy ears bouncing towards the traffic. That dogs had it I thought. I couldn’t make out how big it was what breed it was? Nothing just those two ears flapping away above a frantic bundle. Hurtling away from us towards impending doom that was for certain. Whatever it was had no road sense and was tearing away. I panicked a little because I couldn’t help it had no name to shout and now it was close to the freeway. I put my fingers to my mouth and I whistled. Loud as I could. The whistle pierced the black. And It stopped the dog dead in its tracks. Then it turned and set eyes on me in one swift movement the ears about faced and the dog decided to run straight at me in the darkness all flashes of teeth and snarling And shrieking. Fuck this I thought that’s not a fkn dog. What am I doing. It ran straight at me and hit me around the legs I couldn’t see but I could hear the distress and I reached down thinking I’m going to get bitten. It was so noisy shrieking. I snatched out expecting to feel teeth and grabbed a fist full of soft neck fur lifted what was actually an incredibly light weight up to my face and shone my phone at it. It was a very small bundle literally sagging from its neck fur with two big brown eyes staring straight into mine. Terrified and utterly quiet. When I got back to the car and sat in my seat he lay on my shoulder and fell asleep. And snored clearly he’d been through a lot. And now the ordeal was seemingly over enough for him to relax. Jessica asked me was he a girl or a boy. Its a boy I said. How do you know. Erm… I can feel his Woodstock. great !!! let’s call him Woodstock!!! And so it was. He was covered in dogshit. Now so was I. And we rode and We took him straight to the pet store to clean him up and buy him well things.., lots of things things dogs need and we walked the aisles the three of us letting him Choose toys and his lead and his collar. I’ll Never forget that night. It was wonderful. One minute he was almost dead next terrified. Then picked up by strangers then after He had a power nap in the car, the next he’s walking with his bandy leg John Wayne strut under the strip lighted aisles of this massive pet store happy and playful. He wore a red bandana that night and from then on and drank religiously from the toilet throughout the night despite having a few bowls of water in the apartment he was every inch a survivor. He wasnt house broken it didn’t matter we were outdoors mostly and He ate through trailer doors and made many friends and Pnut had him on the lead off set and He became our onset dog I will always be eternally grateful to Georgia. It gave me the greatest of joys of being a dog owner And the bestest of friends after Max had passed Woody arrived He was 11 weeks old approx. The first morning we had him. He ate a turd and we chased him to drop it but he gobbled it down because he must have thought we wanted to eat it. So he ate it as fast as he could. We just wanted him to eat some real food. He now had plenty. But there was a survivor in him. That was clear he had had to eat what he could and from then on it was clear he had food issues. But he would never go hungry again. His nickname was Yamaduki. Because he literally yammed down a duki. So Woodstock Yamaduki was his full name. Woody Thomas later Woody two shoes and Wu for short.
Woody came back to the Uk after Jess’s parents kindly looked after him to avoid quarantine they house trained him. He had my tshirt from Warrior. I picked him up from them in California when I shot Dark Knight and thanked them. He hadn’t forgotten me and despite the tireless efforts and hard work that Jessica’s Mum and husband had put into Woody he heard my whistle again and turned and ran at me and didn’t look back. I felt for them but secretly I was very happy that my friend and I were reconnected. We all had a picnic we jumped into a lake Woody too and then it was clear Woody couldn’t swim and I hauled his ass out of the lake. Dragging him out the shit a second time cemented a pattern. I have hauled him out of rivers and ponds on many occasion since that day such was his love to chase ducks. Especially the Thames. his rabies titer had cleared he spent a week in quarantine and he became a Londoner.
He was an Angel. And he was my best friend. We went through so much together. Charlotte worked tirelessly with him to get him through a rough case of separation anxiety. He loved her like his Mum. And when she was pregnant he gaurded her fiercely.
He has been on many sets. Met many crews. Photo shoots premieres made many many friends he was #73 most influential animal in TIME magazine. He beat JAWS. Something we all thought was brilliant. He’s been in peaky blinders. Legend everyone who met him loved him. He didn’t have a bad bone in his body. All he knew was love.
I don’t normally speak out about family and friends but this is an unusual circumstance. Woody affected so many people in his own right so with great respect to his autonomy and as a familiar friendly face to many of you, it is with great great sadness a heavy heart that I inform you that after a very hard and short 6 month battle with an aggressive polymyostisis Woody passed away, two days ago. He was only Age 6. He was Far too young to leave us and We at home are devastated by his loss I am ultimately grateful for his loyal companionship and love and it is of some great comfort that he is no longer suffering. Above all I am completely gutted. the world for me was a better place with him in it and by my side. To the bestest friend ever. To me and to a family who loved him beyond words and whom he loved without doubt more than I have ever known. Woody was the bestest of journey companions we ever could dream of having. Our souls intertwined forever.
A friend told me
He was special bro, a shining example of man’s best friend. He burnt very very bright and, those that burn very bright sometimes burn half as long.
Thankyou Woody for choosing to find us. We will love you and be with you and you with us forever. Never ever ever forgotten. Your Boy tom xxx I love you beyond words. To the moon and back again and again to Infinity and beyond. Run with Max now and the Angels. I will see you when I get there. With all of me I love you. Always Thankyou for Your love beautiful boy.
Okay, so, I'd love to read a little something by you set in a world where Lavender made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe not okay, but alive?
Once upon a time, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her. She had been the kind of kid who put on dramatic plays for her stuffed animals, for any visitors to the house, and for any neighbor or passersby she could snag from the front yard.
Dating Ron in sixth year had been fun, most of all because everyone had kept sneaking glances at her. She had heard her name in curious whispers and she had grinned and giggled into Parvati’s shoulder.
Everyone was looking now, or pretending not to. She heard the whispers– oh it’s that poor Brown girl. Can you imagine, if it was your daughter, if it was you? Oh and she was so pretty before, too–what a pity–almost makes it worse, doesn’t it?
“You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.
Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”
“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”
“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.
“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”
Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”
Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out. “I was there, once, when Lupin turned without the potion. I was so scared. I thought we were going to die.”
“Afraid I’ll sniff you out on a dark night?” Lavender said, face twisting as she sank back into her wicker chair.
“No, I–” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and all the hesitation was making Lavender more and more uncomfortable. Even at eleven, Hermione had bulldozed through things. She didn’t waver. “I was so scared, but I think it was even worse for him. It hurt, but he looked so scared, too, I–”
“I know how it feels,” said Lavender, very quietly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Lavender took a big sip from her tea. It was still steaming– it had not taken long to exhaust small talk, between the two of them.
Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to– make things better. Do you want this?”
Lavender put her mug back down, shaking out scalded fingers, and said, “Yes.” Then, because her mother had raised her right, she said, “Thank you.”
“That sounds like a weird conversation,” said Parvati, whose door Lavender went and knocked on after she and Hermione had split the bill with the precise-to-the-Knut math of the vaguely acquainted and recently employed.
Lavender kicked through the fall of autumn leaves that had collected in front of the porch swing. “She was trying to be nice, I think.”
“She’s not very good at it,” said Parvati.
Her father wept. He tried not to but he was a crier, always had been.
“You were so brave,” said Lavender’s mother, cupping her cheeks in her warm hands and not even flinching at the scar tissue under her palms. “We are so proud.”
Lavender’s mother was a Muggleborn, daughter of a math teacher and a door-to-door salesman (“now there is a profession that requires some magic,” her grandfather used to tell her).
Her father was a wizard and he was trying hard not to cry, bending down to pet the dogs weaving between all their ankles. Lavender bent down, too, scratching behind Fiddlestick’s floppy ears while Mopsy cleaned her cheek forcefully. “Hey,” she said, and her father looked up, trying to firm his wobbly chin.
“You know I’m proud of you, too,” he said, trying not to tremble on it. “I just…” He reached out to squeeze her knee gently. “You did everything right. You did everything good. I’m so proud of you, chickadee.”
“I know,” she said, and she did. He was a Gryffindor, too.
It took Hermione more than a month to figure out the potion sufficiently well enough that she’d let Lavender try it. She was founding a non-profit for nonhuman rights, too, after all, as well as doing a fair few local speaking gigs, petitioning the Wizenagamot on a half dozen issues, getting an advanced degree, and supposedly, at some point, sleeping.
It took more than a month, so Lavender spent another night locked in her parents’ newly fortified cellar. She didn’t remember much, but she woke up with her throat sore and her nails ragged. The door was gouged from the inside. She wondered if she had been screaming. She wondered if that’s what the howls were. She felt like screaming, maybe, a little.
The door cracked open the moment the moon had dropped down below the horizon, outside. Her mother came in with a tray of her favorite breakfast foods– danishes and boiled eggs, steaming hot cocoa with the barest splash of bitter coffee in it.
Parvati came stomping down the stairs after her. “Graceful,” said Lavender. She winced at the roughness of her voice.
“Look who’s talking,” said Parvati. “Up, c'mon, eat your breakfast. We’re doing midnight manicures. Your dad says he’ll let us doll up his nails, too.”
The next full moon night, Lavender locked herself in the cellar again. “It should be safe,” Hermione had said. “It should. I mean, I’ve done all the tests. I followed all the instructions. It should work.”
Lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. She didn’t recall Parvati Wingardium Leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of Witch Weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on Parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.
But she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. She was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at Parvati’s slack, sleeping face. Her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.
Lavender pulled herself up to sitting, stole the open Witch Weekly, and waited for Parvati to wake up.
“You’re going to be alright,” Professor Trelawney said and she wasn’t even looking at Lavender’s palm, just holding her hand tight in her cold fingers. “You’re going to be happy. You’re going to be fine. People are going to love you and stand by you and we will be there.”
The tower room was just the same as Lavender remembered it, down to the spicy-sweet tea and Trelawney’s big blinking eyes. Lavender squeezed her hands back. “I love you, too, professor.”
“You know, I think you can call me Sybil. It seems the time for it.”
Dean and Seamas’s housewarming for their ugly little first flat was a crowded mess, but the afterparty wasn’t. Lavender and Parvati came by with paint swatches, opinions, and hangover remedies. They ate greasy Chinese food on the floor, because it was about as comfortable as the couch.
They came back the next week, and the next. Parvati conjured a crackling fire in a big fruit bowl Dean’s mother had given him and they all sat around it like they were back at Gryffindor Tower’s hearths, procrastinating on homework.
On nights like that they sometimes talked about Hogwarts, but most of the time they didn’t. Dean had started drawing again and he walked them through his notebooks– his sisters, caricatures of the customers he dealt with in Ollivander’s wand shop, the snarky little comics he’d always scrawled in the edges of his notes. Parvati told them about the Auror trainees’ antics, going ut on their first field missions with their mentors. “All bravado and caffeine,” she said. “Bunch of show-offs.”
“So you fit in well, then?” Dean said.
“Nah, that’s Lav,” Parvati said. Dean and Seamas glanced warily at Lavender, but she just giggled and reached for another potsticker.
Seamas was considering going back to school. “Hermione’s been badgering me about it,” he said. “Says I have a talent for pyrotechnics, and there’s a whole major for fire magics at Brinxley.”
“What about you, Lav?” said Dean. “You still thinking about vet school?”
“Oh, uh, that’s the Muggle word. Veterinarian– a medimagizoologist?”
“The schools aren’t too interested in a werewolf as a student,” Lavender said, shrugging.
“Not that that stops Hermione from showing up on the doorstep with half-penned anti-discrimination lawsuits she wants Lav to star in,” Parvati said.
“When does she sleep?” said Dean.
Little children asked about it in the street sometimes. “Mum, why’s her face like that?” “How come she’s walking all funny?”
Sometimes their parents turned to Lavender with eager bright eyes in the grocery store line, expecting her to answer. (“I got hurt, but I’m okay now.”) Sometimes they shushed their kids and gave her little apologetic half-smiles, glancing away from the raised lines of scar tissue. Sometimes they pulled their children closer to them and crossed to the other side of the street.
Harry Potter had a godson. Teddy Lupin was four the first time Lavender met him, just outside Gringotts. Teddy clung to Harry’s pants leg, peeking past his godfather’s hanging robe. “Why’d her face do that?” he said and Harry dropped a hand down into Teddy’s hair, which was bright green.
“She’s just like your dad,” said Harry.
“Puppy,” Teddy whispered, eyes wide with joy, and his skin shifted until scars stood out stark on his smiling chubby cheeks.
Lavender bit her lip and sank down to her knees in the street, holding out a hand. “Why aren’t you handsome, chickadee. What’s your name?”
Once, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her.
She hated stories that told you to be careful what you wished for. Were you not supposed to want things? Was that the answer? She was nearly twenty two and she could make things fly with a few whispered words. She had lived through her seventh year at Hogwarts, had stepped out into that battle with her wand out and her eyes open. She had woken up–hurting, wounds tended, poison in her veins–to Parvati sleeping on Sybil’s shoulder at her bedside.
She had cried when they told her about the lycanthropy. She had cried over her bunny because a fox had gotten to it. Both times it had been with her face buried in Parvati’s shoulder and Parvati’s hands stroking her hair. She wished and she wanted– animals that never left you, bodies that never betrayed you.
Once, Lavender had wished that everyone would look at her, and now they were. Everyone was looking– so Lavender held Parvati’s hand in the grocery store at midnight, because they had both been craving green apples. Everyone was looking– so Lavender curled her hair and pinned it up, wore tank tops and little skirts on any day hot enough that she could get away with it, laughed aloud in public spaces. Everyone was looking– so Lavender knocked on Hermione Granger’s door one evening and asked, “What would it take to get me into magical vet school?”
Hermione had her bushy hair all tied back and a quill behind each ear. “A lot. There’s some statutes we’ve got to fight, and even if we can handle that you’ll still be under intense scrutiny for years.”
“I can work with that,” said Lavender, and Hermione grinned.
When Teddy marched down the aisle with the rings, his hair was a shimmering swirl of pink and purple to match the flowers woven into Parvati’s braids and Lavender’s curls.
The honeymoon would be short–a week in magical Paris in the townhouse of a Beauxbaton girl they’d befriended fourth year. Lavender had more medical textbooks packed into her luggage than anything else. Parvati’s bags were lined with half-finished reports that she’d owl to Auror headquarters from a rumpled Parisian morning, getting croissant crumbs in the bedsheets.
But for now the hall was filled with pink and purple blooms, white candles, familiar faces. Hermione stood in a violet bridesmaid’s dress, and Dean and Seamus in matching ties at Parvati and Lavender’s respective backs. Padma was luminescent with joy over Parvati’s shoulder. She had taken Lavender aside that morning for a short quiet walk in the mist and told her, “I know tonight’s what makes it official, but I’ve thought of you as my sister for years.”
When Lavender leaned forward and kissed her wife, her father burst into proud tears in the front row. He was a crier, always had been. Lavender buried her face in Parvati’s shoulder, smiling so hard she thought she might come apart. Her scars creased and puckered in her dimples, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you
encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty
pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him,
of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men,
the devil incarnate.”
So, I had this thought after reading several stories about humans giving birth and not having eggs. What if aliens do not have ‘family units’ the same way humans do, but instead raise children in more of a group setting.
Captain H'roll'ah was excited to have hired on not just 1 but 3 humans, all of whom were extremely qualified for space travel. Even better, they were all from the same clan and so there would be no rivalry or refusal to work together because of old scores to settle.
“Captain! Three humans just came in a have taken over the dining area! WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!?” Ensign Khralhen was out of breath and panicked, but his species was notoriously afraid of humans after it became public knowledge how dangerous they were. Not that his own was much better, but H'roll'ah knew that these humans should be here and it was probably near a meal time for them. How could such an evolutionary advanced and apated species not figure out a way to avoid needing 3 or meals a day was beyond H'roll'ah.
“It is fine, Ensign Khralhen. These are likely the Humans that I just signed on to the crew. They are from the same clan, so they should work at peak efficiency,” the Captain answered, trying to put as much calm and soothing into his voice as possible, “Let us go introduce ourselves and welcome them so that the ‘pack-bonding’ can begin.”
“Greetings, I am Captain H'roll'ah and this is Ensign Khralhen, our cook.”
“Nice ta meetcha! Cook, huh? Guess we best buddy up to you right quick then!” said the male. He was average height for a human and perhaps a little on the heavy side, but H'roll'ah knew that it was likely muscle not fat. After all, this human and one of his female companions were security personnel.
“Always thinking with you stomach, Thomas. How about you buddy up to the Captain, so that we do not get kicked off this boat? Hmm?” said the smaller female, later identified as Samantha or “Sam” for ease. "Small" being used only in comparison because she did not have the bulk of her clanmates. She must be the medical officer. H'roll'ah was worried that she would be distant from her clanmates but her body language suggested extreme comfort and trust, above what H'roll'ah felt for his own clanmates of different castes. The third human, Laura if the captain remembered correctly, remained silent but was constantly looking around, as if expecting an attack at any moment, not that strange considering all that H'roll'ah had hear about Earth.
“Well then, please tell me what times that the three of you eat, and I will prepare food for you then. Also, please tell me any dietary restrictions you have so that you do not have any medical incidents,” Khralhen said, realizing that the humans could be bribed with food as easily as a Con'valix could be bribed with fruits.
(3 Months Later)
Captain H'roll'ah was surprised at how well the humans worked together. He thought that they might exceed standard human operating efficiency by 10%, but regularly they were 20-25% better than the reported average. They barely needed to vocalize to communicate, and they were able to remember each other’s needs and the needs of the crew extremely well. Captain H'roll'ah decided to ask them how they did it, and if it was a clan trait, where he could hire more humans of clan “Walker.”
“Thomas clan Walker, do you have a few minutes to talk about personal matters?” The captain asked, assuming that Thomas would, since he was off shift and relaxing in the lounge.
“Sure thing, hoss. What can I do for you? And I hope this isn’t about my or Laura’s tattoo’s, because we had to settle a bet on that a few days ago,” Thomas answered easily. He was a bit flippant for the captain’s taste, but his results were impeccable and the other humans followed his lead, which spoke volumes for the man.
“I was hoping that you could explain how you and your clanmates have achieved such a high efficiency rate. You perform well above average, even for clanmates who grew up together.”
“Clanmates? Oh, that’s right! Sam mentioned that your species, and most species on this ship raise their young in a group setting and the kids hatch from eggs, right?”
“That is correct, and please do not remind me that human females carry their young in their bodies like a parasite. The last time Sam explained that, it was enough to make all of us wonder how humans have managed to reproduce at all.” H'roll'ah still shuddered when he thought of it, and Khralhen wasn’t able to cook for 3 days after Sam had explained human reproduction.
“Fair enough, I think we reproduce more by accident that anything else, but yeah. Me, Laura, and Sam are not clanmates like you think,” Thomas chuckled and shook his head, “We are siblings.”
“I do not know this word,” H'roll'ah answered uneasily. In his experience, an unknown term from a human meant that something painful, gross, horrifying, or all 3 was about to be revealed.
“Sam could explain it better, and having Laura here only seems fair…” Thomas trailed off as he reached for his comm. "Hey, brats (again with the casual disrespect), can you both get up to the lounge? Captain wants to know about siblings.“ H'roll'ah was always surprised that Thomas clan Walker could be disrespectful when asking for others to do something.
“Sure, be right up,” Sam responded. She was likely a floor up in the medical facilities and wanted to take a break.
“Grrhhrhhgg.” Laura clan Walker had been sleeping, then, and did not want to come.
“Thanks, ladies, you can both explain family better than me.” Now the captain was worried again because there was a second new word being bandied around.
“So, captain, a family unit for humans is very small compared to yours of Ensign Khralhen’s,” Sam explained, “A family is usually made up of the mother and/or father or a surrogate who has assumed that role and the children. It usually numbers no more than 4-7 individuals.”
“But…But…how do you grow or develop? And to place all that burden on only one or two adults, how do they do anything else?” spluttered K'roll'ah. He was shocked to find out that humans in the region called ‘America’ did not have an open community.
“Well, children who share 1 or both parents are called “siblings”, and they develop together. The adults are called “parents”, and yeah, there is a definite loss of freedom involved.“
“So then, you three are…siblings?” H'roll'ah asked.
“Yes, Thomas is the oldest, and Laura is the youngest, with me in the middle,” answered Sam, “and our father bailed on us after Laura was 3 years old, so Tom became the ‘man of the house’ at 7 years old.”
THAT explained Thomas clan Walker’s attitude! Captain H'roll'ah realized that Thomas clan Walker had been in a command position and not had a commander from a young age!
“So that is why you both follow him? He is the new leader”
“Kind of, he is just the best at leading. He knows what to do and does it well.” Laura answered, which was rare; she was the most quiet of the three.
“And the reason for your peak efficiency?” Captain H'roll'ah asked, determined to get an answer to his question.
“Well, we have known each other all our lives and spent most of those lives in close proximity to each other. We just understand each other from the long familiarity and exposure.”
“Ah, the same way a pilot becomes better from being on the same ship, just with a person instead.”
“Exactly! And if you are interested in hiring others we are familiar with, we have some cousins, children of our parents’ siblings, who we know very well and want to get into space.”
“Then I will look them up, thank you for answering my questions."
Humans were a strange species. Instead of focusing on a large community, they developed close bonds with only a few people who share familial ties with them. Captain H'roll'ah did hire the 'cousins’ and they worked out very well. The human guidebook was updated to notify captains that humans sharing close blood ties have the potential to perform at higher than normal efficiency.
Now somebody write a story about a captain hiring siblings who hate/cannot stand each other!
so alya told her to start flirting with adrien if she liked him so much, and the magazines give her step-by-step guides with 15 ~Chill~ Ways to Flirt With Your Crush Without Totally Embarrassing Yourself, so there’s no way this can go horribly wrong, right?
okay but marinette has to be realistic, when has anything ever gone right for her?
1. like their instagram and watch their snapchat: okay but marinette already does this, she follows all of adrien’s social media and collects his takes from photoshoots and knows his schedule, and honestly, there’s really nothing he does that she doesn’t know about it? the whole point of watching his snapchat and liking his instagram would be for him to notice her, but it’s not like she can tell him that she does this, because that would be creepy right? but for the most part she thinks she has this part down pat.
2. make eye contact: and this one is damn near impossible. every time she looks at adrien, and he looks back, her heart turns into a puddle and she wants to melt. but okay, the magazine said to make eye contact, so that’s maintain eye contact, right? don’t look away as soon as he catches her looking. okay, she tells herself. i can do this.
adrien and marinette spend the rest of the week in multiple staring contests. alya and nino are extremely confused, but the game catches on, and soon the whole class spends Madame Bustier’s lectures in staring contests with the rest of their classmates. there’s a running scoreboard, and chloe and alya are surprisingly good at the game, which isn’t that surprisingly at all considering how many glare-showdowns they’ve had throughout the year.
adrien just wants to beat marinette once, and how is it fair she’s so good at this??? marinette just wants to know why it’s not working; she hasn’t gone through dry eyes, blurry vision, and headaches for nothing. at this point, she’s read to pour Johnson’s No More Tears shampoo directly in her eyes to get them back to normal.
3. let your emojis do the talking: 🍆😛:eggplant: :yum:
alya sent it from marinette’s phone, and marinette is too busy dying to say anything about it. adrien still buys her eggplants for a month because he thinks they’re her favorite.
4. wave and say “hi” when they walk by: marinette had to quit when her over-aggressive wave nailed nino in the nose and broke it. alya called him “raccoon eyes” for weeks. it didn’t matter though, adrien didn’t even wave back (though it might have been because his best friend was bleeding on the school steps).
5. invite your crush to hang out as a group: seems easy enough, right? she invites alya, nino, and adrien over for a study group at her house, but alya and nino cancel at the last minute to give her “some alone time with adrien”. only it doesn’t work out that way because she’s forced to actually learn physics when adrien notices she had some troubles with it and tutors her for the rest of the night.
6. say something simple, then keep the conversation going: marinette had trouble talking to adrien in the first place, so it was a miracle if she even got something simple out. adrien saves her the trouble anyway when he complicates her cat sweater, but it doesn’t go the way she imagined because it devolves into a heated argument over whether chat noir or ladybug was better, and oh my god, how could she be arguing with her crush over how much she sucked?
7. remember what they tell you, and bring it up later: so adrien refuses to speak to her since she said ladybug sucked, and marinette is panicking internally 24/7. she makes him a hat to apologize because it’s summer and it’s blue, and when he asks her how she knew blue was his favorite color, she just smiles and tells him she read it in a magazine article.
adrien looks touched either way while marinette wishes she could sink through the floor because she’d gone nearly a whole year without adrien knowing she read magazine articles about him.
8. give them a sincere compliment:
adrien: “so what do we know about penguins already for this biology presentation?” marinette: “penguins are inefficient walkers…. they’re cute…. but not cuter than you.” adrien: “…thanks, marinette.”
adrien: “thanks, marinette. you’re so helpful.” marinette: “that’s me. i’m always helpful. i’ll always try to help you. you know, like… i’d totally hold a revolving door for you. i know that’s counterproductive, but you’re worth it.”
adrien: “god, they never get all the makeup off after a shoot.” marinette: “you know, i would really be okay with seeing you without makeup. that’s how much i like you.” adrien: “what?” marinette: “what?”
9. casually touch their arm when you’re talking: marinette casually strokes adrien’s arm during their next study session. adrien: “… why are you touching my arm?” marinette: “i’m checking the seam work.” adrien: “….that’s my skin though.” marinette: “shh, don’t disrupt a designer at work.”
10. offer them a fry: okay, but marinette doesn’t particularly like fries, so she figured she’d find another way to work this in. it happens one morning while she’s about to go to town on her croissant when she overhears adrien mentioning to nino that he’d forgot his breakfast, so she shoves the food in front of him and rushes away. alya can’t stop laughing at agreste’s startled expression when marinette shoved a croissant in his face without prompt. regardless, alya shares her own breakfast when marinette admits she didn’t have anything else to eat.
11. give them something thoughtful: marinette buys adrien a ladybug-spotted scarf because she knows he likes the superhero. he protests when she gives it to him, but she just shrugs and said she owed him one anyway after dissing his favorite superhero before.
the next day he gives her a matching chat noir one.
12. tease them: she can barely keep a straight face when she teases adrien in front of nino and alya about always smelling like camembert. she even buys him three cheese wheels one day, but he only flushes darkly as he shoves them in his bag. she wants to apologize in case she hurt his feelings, but later that day, she notices that the cheese is gone.
man, he must really like his cheese, she thinks in awe, and spends the rest of the day trying to figure out why adrien kept glaring at his bag during class.
13. steal their hat and put it on your head: adrien doesn’t wear hats, so she stole nino’s instead. adrien spent the rest of the day trying to set her up with his best friend.
14. ruffle their hair: marinette ruffles adrien’s hair when she walks into the classroom one morning. some strands end up tangled in her bracelet, and the two spend the remainder of class in the nurse’s office as she tries to cut them loose.
15. sit in their lap: marinette is a little hesitant to try this one, but alya ends up taking matters into her own hands and pushes marinette into adrien’s lap one day while the three of them and nino were visiting a cafe for lunch. marinette is flustered and apologizes profusely, and she finally finds the courage to look into his eyes. but instead of angry!agreste, she seems wide, shocked green eyes as adrien begins to laugh uncontrollably. marinette starts to giggle and shakes her head and it’s not until she looks at him again that she realizes… this whole situation seems really familiar…
“…chat noir?” she asks suddenly.
“what?” adrien asks.
“what?” alya asks.
“what?” nino asks.
“oh my god,” marinette says and dies.
Needless to say, flirting was not her forte. But hey, she still got the man in the end, right? …. alright, it’s a work and progress, but still.
No, this one is not BTS related, but I can’t help myself from making this one.
I think I’m PMSing and about to start my period and that’s why I’ve been so annoyed and making rants lately.
Now, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and I’m not directing this towards any one specific person except Stephanie Meyer since this pet peeve started with Twilight
If you are going to write about a certain topic, or include something in your writing, please do at least a minimal amount of research.
The amount of people who will write about something they know nothing about, and refuse to google it saddens me.
This goes for multiple topics.
As a child development major, this irks me more than it does most people, and as I said, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and that since not everyone studies child development, there are things they can’t know, but there are somethings that’s just common sense.
Like it’s common sense that a 4 year old will not still be teething.
It’s common sense that a 2 month old will not be sitting up on their own.
It’s common sense that a 1 and a half year old will not be speaking in full grammatically correct sentences.
Onto pregnancy, why does everyone seem to think that you find out the sex of the baby on the first doctor’s appointment? Like, no. The genitalia begin to form at 6 weeks and aren’t finished until 14 weeks. The majority of people have their first appointment during that time frame, meaning it’s impossible to know anyway.
Also, morning sickness does not only happen in the morning, it’s just more common. The amount of times I’ve seen people writing fics about pregnancy, only for something to be wrong with the girl, and when someone questions her she says it’s just morning sickness, “but it’s not the morning”, please stop that.
Also, people will write about a bump at 2 months. If it’s the first pregnancy, like how it is in most fics, a bump usually won’t form until the 2nd trimester, which is 4 or 5 months. Maybe 3 months in some women, but not 2 months.
Okay, say it with me: the butt hole is not a vagina
The amount of gay smut where they talk about how “wet” the hole is getting when there is no lube or saliva involved, or the amount that says it’s painless without any lubrication. I’m a heterosexual female and even I know that’s not how it works.
Second, girls do not orgasm the same way guys do
A female orgasm is an overwhelming feeling of pleasure followed by sensitivity. There is no “flow of juices” and certainly no “white substance dripping down her thighs”. When “juices” do come out of her, that is called squirting, and only happens very rarely, some women never being able to at all. And after a women squirts, she can be very dehydrated and exhausted, and definitely not ready to go a second round, like described in quite a few fics. There are some women who can squirt quite often, however, they are in the vast minority, and therefore it should not be included in every. single. fanfic. Rarely do I see a fic that accurately describes a female orgasm.
This one really hits home to me, and quite a few others, as I suffer from mental illness, and have for years.
I would really appreciate if the people who don’t have a mental illness, but choose to write about it would do adequate research about the mental illness they have chosen.
I could go on about all the mistakes people have made about many mental illnesses, but I’ll focus on anxiety right now as that’s what I have and is the most common mental illness since it comes in many varieties.
The one that I notice the most is the misrepresentation of Social Anxiety.
In most of the fics I have read that have incorporated Social Anxiety, they always describe it as feeling uncomfortable around strangers, but it is way more than that.
Social Anxiety is:
constantly feeling like everyone in the room is watching you and scrutinizing your every movement
not being able to eat at someone’s house or at a party because your stomach hurts so much that the thought of food makes you want to throw up
wanting to cry when you’re forced to sit close to people you don’t know
being almost 20 years old and not being able to order for yourself at a restaurant
thinking that sitting alone in the car is a better option than having to go inside a place you’ve never been
It is so much more than being uncomfortable around people you don’t know. The feeling I get can’t even be described using the word “uncomfortable”. If you are not actually having anxiety over the situation, it is not anxiety.
Another thing that people don’t research with this is how you get diagnosed. I always see it described as they went to their normal doctor the second they started to have issues, told them they had it, and they automatically get a prescription for medication, and they’re done in 10 minutes. That is not how it happens.
I had been living with anxiety for at least 5 years before ever even going to be formally diagnosed. I didn’t bother with telling my mom I thought I needed more help than just her, who also has anxiety, until after I was tempted to remove the blades from my razor and slit my wrist to where they couldn’t sew it back up.
I had to have suicidal thoughts before realizing “woah I need help”. After that, my mom had to make an appointment at a psychological assessment center, not my regular doctor. That first appointment, it was me, my mom, and a therapist. There was no official diagnosis of that. All it was was the three of us talking, with me and my mom telling her about the struggles I had been having, how long it had been happening, how it gradually got worse, and so on. Then she gave my mom a questionnaire to fill out about what she has observed about me, and gave me one to give to one of my teachers at school to fill out.
A week later, I went back and spent two hours being tested in different ways. They varied from “what do you see when you look at this picture” to testing my memory skills. Two hours. And that wasn’t even the day I was diagnosed.
My mom and I went back a week after that to meet with the therapist, and that’s where she gave me the official diagnosis, the degree it was to, and then discussed treatment options. Then she had to send my regular doctor the results so that she could write a prescription.
It was two more weeks before my doctor got around to it and I was able to start on medication.
It is way more than “oh I’ve been feeling this way”, “okay, here’s some pills to pop”.
If you’re going to write about a mental illness without having it, then at least have the courtesy to research it.
Then comes to the idea that it can be cured and one day they won’t have it anymore. I don’t know how many fics I’ve read where it ends with a completely happy ending in the main character no longer has the mental illness.
That is complete and utter bullshit. Mental illnesses are caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, and those can’t be fixed easily. There is no “cure”, you just get to the point where you can handle it better. There are people with depression who can go years without and episode, then wake up one day with no motivation to even roll over in bed. My mom has some of the worst social anxiety, yet she’s a hair stylist, meaning she has to constantly be around and talk to people she doesn’t know. She has overcome her illness enough that it doesn’t get in the way of her job, but she’s still on medication and she almost had a panic attack when she had to walk me up on stage for the Senior Walk at my final orchestra concert.
Mental illnesses do not have a cure. You just get better at being able to live without them getting in your way.
There are a few authors and works out there that do a great job of trying to be accurate in the topics they write about, but they are sadly outnumbered by the people who just do not care.
So please, if you read this and want to write a fanfic or regular fic about a topic you’re not to sure about, please do at least a minimal amount of research before rather than bullshitting it like Stephanie Meyer did when she decided to write about vampires.
The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time.
It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.
The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”
Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—
(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)
Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.
It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)
Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”
Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.
She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid.
It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips.
She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.
Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi,angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha
word count: 16,212
warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language
a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.
You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.
Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.
“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”
You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”
Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.
“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”
transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service
Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017.
Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.
I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.
I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through.
To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started.
As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.
Ooh in that case a 10 times sex went hilariously wrong list??
top 10 times things went wrong during sex!!
Could you do a Top 10 With the FUN STORIES ABOUT THINGS GOING WRONG DURING SEX? This is from the ASK about Yuuri more silly and confident.
You mentioned “amusing ‘things going wrong during sex’ stories” and now I’m wondering if that could be made into a top ten list? （≧∇≦）
Top ten ‘things going wrong during sex’ stories!!!!!!
Since you mentioned it in a previous ask, would you mind doing a top 10 things going wrong and / or funny things which happened during Victor and Yuuri having sex? :P
The Top 10 ‘things going wrong during sex’ stories should definitely be a thing, but i’m not going to press you to write more (even if not explicit) sex scenes. But it would be and absolutely hilarious topic (and it would be definitely be commented in some drunk-ish after party, just let it on Chris hands).
wow, you guys really wanted this one so I bumped it to the top of the queue!
Top 10 Times Things Went Wrong During Sex:
10) One time they were in a single bed and Yuuri was riding Viktor but halfway through Viktor decided to flip them over so that he was on top. The only problem was that he was used to having a king-sized bed and so instead of rolling them over he just dumped them both on the floor instead. It took Yuuri five full minutes to stop laughing
9) In reference to one of my previous top tens, during their first visit to Yuuri’s parents Yuuri refused to have sex at all in his parent’s house surrounded by his family. And Viktor totally respected that but after two weeks of blue balls he and Yuuri were taking Vicchan and Makkachin for a walk on the beach and he basically jumped Yuuri, who was very down with that idea. Which was great in the moment but afterwards Yuuri kept giving him death glares like ‘I have sand in my clothes, I have sand in my hair I have sand in places where sand is never supposed to be’.
8) During their second visit to the onsen, Yuuri refused to have sex in the onsen itself but Viktor did manage to convince Yuuri to let Viktor give him a blowjob after they got out of the water. But since they had just spent a really long time in very hot water and most of Yuuri’s blood was…not in his head, he ended up fainting at a really not opportune moment. Viktor freaked out and was terrified that Yuuri was seriously hurt but he woke up after a couple of seconds and Mari just stuck a cold cloth on his head, told him to suck it up and smirked at them both because Yuuri had been using the hot springs since he was a kid so she knew their story about him fainting from it just being too hot was complete bullshit.
7) Once they were being pretty athletic and adventurous which was going great until Viktor accidentally pulled a muscle and Yuuri teased him mercilessly about being an old man who couldn’t keep up with his athlete boyfriend anymore. The main problem came when Viktor had to explain to people at the rink how he pulled a muscle because neither of them wanted to tell the truth. Everyone figured it out anyway.
6) Once Viktor forgot to lock the bedroom door and Makkachin jumped onto the bed between them mid sex. They both screamed and jumped apart and it completely ruined the mood and then they couldn’t bring themselves to push Makkachin off the bed and lock him out again to continue because he looked too happy.
5) There was a time when Viktor convinced Yuuri to try being blindfolded which Yuuri decided to try out. But they didn’t bet on Yuuri being really jumpy without his vision and prone to startling so at one point Viktor leant down to give him a blowjob without warning him first and he jerked on instinct and accidentally kicked Viktor in the face. It took them about 10 minutes to stop the nosebleed but they were able to laugh about it afterwards once Yuuri stopped panicking.
4) They were once in the shower together and Viktor decided to try and pick Yuuri up like in chapter 13. Except he didn’t account for the fact that it is a lot harder to pick someone up in the shower surrounded by water and so he slipped, dropped Yuuri and broke their shower rack by grabbing onto it to try and stay upright.
3) Yuuri really likes pulling Viktor’s hair during sex and Viktor really likes getting his hair pulled during sex. But one time Yuuri pulled a bit too hard and accidentally yanked some of Viktor’s hair out. It was only a few strands and didn’t actually hurt that much but they then had to stop because Yuuri needed to comfort an inconsolable Viktor over the fact that he thought that he was losing his hair.
2) At the start of their relationship Viktor did a lot of the dirty talk which they’re both really into. But he was really keen for Yuuri to try it too. But Yuuri wasn’t that confident at the beginning and he could never think about what to say and felt really awkward so he was never confident enough to do it. So one day during sex Viktor suggested that Yuuri try dirty talking in Japanese to see if he felt more comfortable doing it that way (and because Viktor has a very badly hidden language kink). But Yuuri kind of panicked and just blurted out the first thing that came into his mind which was ‘I love katsudon’. Viktor didn’t speak fluent Japanese but he still recognised the word Katsudon and so they had to stop because he was laughing too hard to continue. He managed to convince Yuuri that it was actually pretty hilarious after a while of Yuuri being mortified and it became a private joke between them.
1) At one point Yuuri started to get a bit more open and comfortable with asking to try out new things with Viktor, who is ecstatic about it. One of the things he suggested was trying out handcuffs but he got really embarrassed and just bought the first cheap pair that he could find. Everything went fine until after they were finished when it turned out that the locking mechanism had jammed which meant that neither the key nor the emergency switch worked. So Viktor was stuck handcuffed to the bed and they were both way too embarrassed to call anyone for help. They eventually managed to get them off and laughed about it once it was over. Later Viktor bought Yuuri some high quality handcuffs as a present and made him promise never to use cheap sex toys again.
rang in the pocket of your jacket making you jump by surprise. You answered the
call before showing your index to your friend Archie, meaning that it would
only take a minute.
is (y/n) speaking.”
(y/n), how are you?” You instantly recognised the groggy voice behind the
I’m good! What about you?” From the corner of your eye, you would’ve swore you
saw Archie rolling his eyes.
So, what are you up to this evening? I thought we maybe could’ve hung out
tonight. You know, me, you, at Pop’s?” You chuckled lightly.
Juggie, I was planning on spending the night with Archie… You can tag along
if you want? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” A small sigh made its way into your
ear. You had to admit that you spent a lot of your recent time with your new
red-haired friend. Jughead still occupied the position of best friend. He
didn’t have to worry about it.
we’ll do something together tomorrow, alright?” It was silence for a while
before you heard back,
sure.” You pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself. It wasn’t the first
time that you had turned down your best of friend for Archie. Lately it had
been happening more than before. It made you feel like the worst pal.
With that, Jughead hung up. You understood how he felt. It wasn’t right that
you weren’t spending as much time with him.
wasn’t it?” You looked up and saw Archie sprawled across the black beanbag in
your bedroom. His hands were attached on the new acoustic guitar his dad had
got him for his birthday. You nodded and played with the sleeves of you
sweater. Your friend continued strumming the strings of his instrument.
wrote this song last week, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. I’ve
been trying to talk to Josie about her playing some of my compositions, but
she’s not that into it. You’re her friend, right? Maybe you could listen to it
and try to talk to her?” He asked questioningly.
go ahead.” His fingers moved to the tuners and accorded them as his other hand
rested on the waist of the guitar. A few seconds later, a pleasant melody
filled the room. Archie then started singing the lyrics he had written. The
song wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite catchy. The redhead friend of
yours had talent. Before Archie could go on, you blurted out something you soon
probably spend the day with him tomorrow.” The small tune that Archie had
started suddenly came to an end. Archie hadn’t spoken to Jughead since this
summer. The tree of you and Betty we’re supposed to go on a road trip the
fourth of July but Archie left you hanging at the last minute. Since then, the
boys stopped talking completely. When you mentioned one of them to the other, you saw the irritation and
annoyance in their expression.
you were coming to my game tomorrow. I’m playing in the varsity football team
this year, remember?” You bet your lip and fiddled your hair with your
Arch. I haven’t seen Jughead in a while now and I don’t want him to feel like I
stopped being his friend. I’m making a vow that I’ll show up to your next game,
how about that?”
it always have to be about him? Everything constantly has to be about
Jughead.” Your were caught off guard by the sudden raise in his voice.
not it… I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”
ditching me at the last minute, that’s how your making things better? I didn’t
think of you as an inconsiderate and selfish person.” He replied bitterly. In
all the time of you guy’s friendship, you had never seen this side of Archie.
Usually, he would be sweet and just shrug off any problem that faced his way.
But the words he had just told you, they hurt your heart. Your eyes were
starting to fill up with tears and your bottom lip started quivering.
spent all my time with you for the last month. You. Not Jughead. Why are you
treating me like this?”
what? I don’t want to spend any more of my time with you right now.” With
that, Archie got up and left you alone in your room. Without even noticing, a
trail of tears had made its way down your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth and
your hands covered your face as you poured your heart out. You laid in your bed
and continued crying.
It was all
your fault. Archie now hated you and would probably never talk to you again.
Why did you had to be so stupid? If only you had kept your mouth shut. Maybe he
still would have been on that beanbag, singing.
an hour later, you heard the wooden creek of your door meaning that someone was
coming in. You didn’t even move, your pillow pressed against your face. The
mattress shifted to the side from the sudden weight that it now had on it. You
felt a piece of your hair being put behind your ear. You smiled at the sweet
gesture and assumed it was your mother. You slowly got up and saw Jughead
sitting beside you. Automatically, you vaulted in his arms tearing up once
It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. Your forehead was
against his chest, his two upper limbs protectively holding you. Your eyes were
probably red from all the crying but you couldn’t care less. You continued
sobbing in his chest until you eventually felt calmer.
are you here?” You asked with a small voice. Jughead gently whipped your cheek
with his thumb.
saw Archie leave in a rush and realized that you two probably had a fight. She
heard you crying and thought that you would be more willing to speak about it
with me than her.” You grinned at the boy.
your shirt.” You noticed, and felt guilty.
to worry about (y/n/n). I never liked that jersey anyway.” You giggle with
your best friend. You sniffed and observed Jughead who his face was only about
a foot away from you. You had to admit that he was good looking. His prefect
blue eyes were mesmerising and his pink lips appeared so kissable. Forever you
considered the boy as nothing more than a platonic relationship to you. Never
had you ever felt anything for him. But in that moment, something clicked. Jughead
wasn’t only a friend to you, not even a best friend. A stronger feeling overwhelmed your body. You
felt love. You loved Jughead Jones.
He was the one who your mother called when you were sad. He was the one who came rushing to
your house as soon as your mother hung up. He was the one who was holding you and
comforting you, whispering sweet nothing to you as you were crying. He
was the one who was there for you.
He raised his eyebrows at you.
You asked yourself in your mind if it was the right time to confess your
feelings towards him. Your breathing started quickening as the anxiety rose in
I-” He watched you with intending eyes, indicating to continue your phrase.
“I think I
love you.” Jughead eyeballed you, astonished at your revelation. He quietly
answered, almost inaudible for you to hear.
“I think I
love you too.” He leaned towards you and slowly pressed his lips to yours.
Fireworks were going off in your stomach. The heaviness on your shoulders
disappeared. In this moment, nothing else mattered in the world. Both of your
lips moved in sync as you played with his raven locks. His arms pulled you
closer to him, leaving no space between you two. Jughead backed away and kissed
every each of your face, including your cheeks, temple and chin.
the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered in your ear. You gave
him a last long peck on the lips before saying,
want to lay down and cuddle with me?” He moved his head up and down calmly and
took a blanket that was already on the bed to cover you. Cuddling was not
something new for the both of you. You had always cuddled together, and
whenever. His hand ran through your hair bringing a comforting and fuzzy
feeling. His body pressed behind your back and his hot breath was tingling your
neck. Before you even knew it, you and Jughead had fallen in a deep slumber,
both dreaming about each other.
Never afraid to speak and/or draw her mind, Los Angeles based artist and illustrator, Hellen Jo and her characters can be described as rough, vulgar, tough, jaded, powerful, bratty and bad-ass - AKA her own brand of femininity. Known for her comic Jin & Jam, and her work as an illustrator and storyboard artist for shows such as Steven Universe and Regular Show, Hellen’s rebellious, and sometimes grotesque artwork and illustrations are redefining Asian American women and women of color in comics. In fact, that’s why Hellen Jo was a must-interviewee for our latest Sketchy Behavior where we talk to her about her love of comics and zines, her antiheroines, and redefining what Asian American women identity is or can be; and what her ultimate dream project realized would be.
Was bored at work, so got a guy fired and possibly sent to prison for fraud.
I work the night shift as a receptionist at a hotel in Norway, and most nights are spent watching Netflix/playing games. Last summer was really slow and I also worked a lot extra, so I ran out of stuff to watch and games to play. One night I got a mail from “Scooter”. He wanted to book a room for almost 20 days. I just had to send him the price and confirmation that we had rooms available, and he would then send me his credit card info for me to pre-charge. Normally we just delete these kinds of mail, but I was bored out of my mind, so I responded with an offer for around 2k$ for the entire stay. Also made sure to inform him that he could cancel for free up until the day of arrival.
This is probably the most common fraud attempt in the Hotel/travel industry. Unlike most businesses, we are able to charge credit/debit cards with only the card number and exp date. No need for a pin code, cvc or other auth methods. Our software also allow us deposit money directly to local and international bank accounts by using the card number. Because of this, shitheads like Scooter will try to prepay with stolen/skimmed cards, but then cancel the booking and asking us to refund the amount to a different card.
The first time I tried to come out to someone I was ten years old and in primary school.
I told a person who was supposed to be one of my best friends. She listened.
The next day when I came to school she had told the twins; my other friends and they all laughed at me and avoided me for days on end. I knew there was something wrong with me then, see!?? So I told them I was just joking and of course I didn’t like girls that way, I’M NOT GAY!
The next time I tried, I told my cousin, my other best friend. She didn’t say a lot about it and just kind of changed the subject. The next time I saw her she asked me if I was being serious with a screwed up look on her face that hit me in the gut like disgust. I felt so sick, am I sick?! There is something so wrong with me. I told her no, of course I wasn’t, I’M NOT GAY, NO REALLY, DEFINITELY!
I started high school desperately trying to be cool, to be normal, to just fit in, why couldn’t I be like all of them? Every now and then someone in the halls would call me a fucking lesbian. It took me right back to those laughs that I heard when I was ten. I was still friends with the same girls who’s laugher haunted me and one night I slept over at their house. They had a brother who was a couple of years older and I thought I might have had a crush on him. It was juvenile wishful thinking. I ended up in his room with the door closed, in the darkness putting his dick in my mouth. After that I asked if I could go home because I was homesick - but I was just sick, I didn’t like anything about him or his dick. I felt so empty and so alone knowing that I was not normal, I was not like any of them. I sat in the bathtub with the door locked at 1am brushing my teeth and trying to erase the stain of what happened.
I came to school on Monday, and people were looking at me. They were talking behind hands and snickering. Someone had told someone and then someone told everyone and they all knew. My mind flew out the second story window in math as a girl passed me a note telling me I was gross and a fucking slut. If anything I thought it would shut them all up? Isn’t that what normal girls do, they like boys and they don’t leave their balls blue?! I had no idea what in the fuck I was supposed to do.
I drifted away from them all, I’d still see them in the halls but we hardly ever talked anymore. I found out that there were certain boys that stayed seperate from the jocks, and their flocks, so I started hanging out with them. They didn’t really care about much of anything and for once I felt a tiny bit of what I thought was belonging. Of course I engaged in ridiculous dating charades where I was one of their girlfriends. We’d occasionally kiss and hold hands and that was it, and I thought it might finally look like I fit. But I still heard it, from time to time “HEY DYKE, ARE YOU A LEMON OR A LIME?” I’d just put my head down and hide. I’d hide behind my boyfriend who was sweet and kind and dopey and gentle, even though most days he kind of drove me mental.
One day there was a new guy at school, I saw him before roll call in the hall and thought he looked cool. Later that day in science, he was sitting opposite me, and I smiled, he smiled back. We’re still friends and it’s about fourteen years down the track - how did we get to that? Well…
The next time I came out it was to him, and he told me he was the same as me. Of course I chose to come out under the label of bisexuality, because I still thought guys were kind of cute and it provided me with a shield of a certain safety and half normality. He didn’t flinch or cringe or look at me with hate, he just said he was the same, and my shame started to deflate a little. I started to breathe full breaths for the first time in so long, and I started to believe maybe I wasn’t so fucking wrong.
The next time I tried to come out to somebody I was sixteen and it was my mother. I’d spent years in torture and isolation trying to figure myself out, who I really was, what it was all about. I told her I was bi and she was quiet for a while. After I prompted her for a response she said “but how do you know?” with a condescending smile. She told me I was young, and that I hadn’t even slept with anyone so how could I possibly know what I am?? Rage is the only thing I could feel at that stage, HOW COULD I KNOW WHAT I AM? The same way you knew you weren’t what I am, that’s how. I’ve spent years hating myself for being this way, and this is the stupidity I’m faced with now? Like I had just flippantly decided that I would announce something I wasn’t even sure of? I was floored, and thus thereafter the topic was purposefully ignored. The silence said all I needed to know, this was something I just wasn’t supposed to show, it’s just one of those things that was a no go. Certain people could be trusted with my secret, the thing that people didn’t seem to want to see, but I had to be very careful about who that would be.
So I shut it down and compartmentalised my difference and tried to survive. Three years went by before I opened that door again, to a trusted friend. I never intended to tell her, but she asked me in a way that seemed so tender, there were no teeth waiting to bite me, and even though it frightened me I told her. She didn’t even care, she was just curious, maybe she was questioning things in herself like some of us do. That was the first time I really knew that I wasn’t my shame and I wasn’t my pain and I wasn’t some thing to be hidden away. I decided then to be more open. To live authentically and do what felt right for me. But I still remained private about it unless asked explicitly - then I would answer as honestly as I knew how, because truthfully I’m still figuring all of it out. I’ve learned so much about diversity and gender and sexual identity and sometimes I find the right words that seem to fit, and other times the pressure of a label exhausts me and I get sick of it.
Sick of trying to classify myself under certain banners, sick of people asking things without any thought of manners.
I know on the grand spectrum of things I am not at all like them, I fall somewhere else along the Kinsey scale. Maybe that means in a way I fail the people like me, because I can’t cement things or write it in concrete and sign it to make it complete. Or that sometimes I still find myself in certain situations where I’m being discreet, holding my candour for fear of ramifications and slander. Maybe I’m not full of pride, maybe because for so long all I could do was hide. This makes me feel so guilty, I should be proud of who I am unapologetically! Not just for me but for the sake of visibility, so that maybe more people can see - we aren’t wrong, we don’t have any agenda other than to be able to be! Just to be; to live with an open vulnerability and tranquility and to be able to do it safely!! I’m sorry, that I could not join in on the pride but maybe you’ll know why; it’s hard to celebrate something that for most of your life you’ve had to justify to people, to justify to yourself, for most of your life you’ve carefully withheld.
“Internalised Homophobia - Where Is My Pride?”
Pride month is such a wonderful thing and I know it is over now but it inspired me to share this. It’s intensely personal, not very well written and lengthy, but I wanted to be able to share some of my experiences regarding this topic. In no way do I speak for the whole LGBT+ community in this post and it’s simply a personal journey that I wrote out for catharsis.
There was something about this whole narrative, that wasn’t adding up for me. I was having a hard time putting my finger on it, then Camila released that description about her album, and it started making more sense.
They want us to believe, this whole narrative took place in 2016, but when you remember back and realize, the 2016 narrative was just a revamped version of the 2015 narrative, it all begins to fall into place.
Everyone latched on to that July 4 2016 Brazil snap, of her alone, writing in a hotel bathroom, while the girls were out celebrating together, as the time she began writing “I have questions”. That’s exactly what Management hoped you’d do. If one paid attention though, you would see that the more important snap happened back in October 2016. She snapped a photo of her writing in a bathroom, with the caption ”destroyed”. First, July - October does not equal 6 months, no matter how crappy your math is. Second, the 7/27 tour was coming to an end, and with that caption, I actually think, that is when she finished writing “I have questions”.
The only tour date they had in early 2016, was Dubai. So, unless she started writing it in a Dubai potty, the rest of early 2016 was spent promoting WFH. She stated she started writing that song, “a little over a year ago” while on tour. I think her “a little over a year ago” means the last few months of 2015, September-November. That she eventually had to face her problems, and she finally went back to the lyrics she started from the year before, and finished the song, then wrote a sad song every day until she got sick of writing sad shit. That song seems to be a catalyst for her, and I’m thinking it probably “destroyed” her to finally finish it.
Camila was asked recently, in an interview, when her anxiety showed itself and started becoming a real problem for her. Her answer was, 2015. Everything started in 2015. Her anxiety, the fucking narrative, the division, EVERYTHING!!
“The only way I will ever sit in his car is if I’m using it to run him over,” you snapped, pushing Kyungsoo’s hand off your shoulder and picking up your suitcase, wincing at the weight before starting down the stairs. Maybe you had over packed, but you didn’t want to risk running out of clothes, especially in a place so secluded.
Just to piss Kevin off. Poor Day’s brain fried for a second and he went “Wait, are you changing sport?! What the fuck, Andrew! What is this stickball?! What did they promise you?!” Wymack had to be the one to tell him.
Neil smiled at the quote as if he was looking at a little fluffy kitten; he got his percentage raised for that.
Kevin Day: “Be the Queen on your chessboard. Kings never get too far.”
The poor kid spent weeks polishing his quote and now Foxes spend most of their times after reading it fake-bowing in front of him.
Jean sends him a picture when Renee shows it to him; it’s just his own face with an arched eyebrow. Kevin answers “Fuck you”, but he smiles seeing Jeremy making faces in the background.
Neil Josten: “Ohana means family, and family means no one gets abandoned or forgotten - Lilo and Her Weird Alien Dog”
The upperclassmen cried.
It took them a week to realize Neil honestly thought the name of the movie was “Lilo and Her Weird Alien Dog” because that’s what Andrew told him.
Aaron Minyard:“Two chemists go into a restaurant. The first one says -I think I’ll have an H2O.- The second one says -I think I’ll have an H2O too- and he died.”
he actually wanted to write “Fuck you, Andrew” but Katelyn glared at him until he changed it.
Andrew gets it, but refuses to laugh on principle.
Nicky Hemmick: “I’m GGG: Getting Gayer and German”.
He employed Erik’s help, but the man is a sap and only offered romantic/sentimental quotes, so he had to find something on his own.
He fought the whole editorial department to have his quote in rainbow colors and he won.
Danielle Wilds:“I wear steel-ettos to better kick you in the balls.”
It may or may not be a reference to a certain Raven and a certain banquets and she may or may not take a picture of the quote “@” him on twitter.
Allison, Matt and Nicky all high five her when they read it.
Allison Reynolds:“Pretty hurts, steals your money and burns your house.”
She fucking loves the Wonder Woman movie, so her other option was “Men are unnecessary for pleasure.”
But after Raven fans trashed her cars she wanted to make a statement, that she could hit back thrice as hard.
Matt Boyd:“Danielle Wilds, would you make me the honor of taking me as your Proud Trophy Husband?”
Yup. He honest to God asked her like that. They had actually talked about it already, stuff like “What if I asked you to get married?”, “Now?!”, “No! More dramatically and stuff, but yeah… Would you say yes?”, “Make it more dramatic than Aaron and Katelyn and we have a deal.”
He brought Dan the yearbook and then knelt when she was distracted reading so when she lifted her eyes there he was, with a ring and blushing to the roots of his hair. Nicky filmed everything.
Renee Walker: “To be kind and to be helpless are two different matters.”
Nicky finds it adorable, while Neil and Andrew read it for the threat it is and their smiles are creepy and dark for a moment there. Allison looks proud.
Jean retweets the picture of the quote and adds “@Alvarez, this is why you don’t fight her”. It’s the first tweet ever in which he “@”s someone and the Trojans are so proud they collectively send Renee flowers.