do not go in my made by me tag it is depressing

aceofalmonds  asked:

Hello! I read (and enjoyed!) the story you posted of your grandpa and his tree disposal methods, and so was looking for the story you mentioned of your other grandpa menacing a peach tree with a baseball bat, but can't seem to find it. Halp?

That would be because I haven’t posted it yet!  Many people have requested the story mentioned in the tags “Grandpa Menaces a Peach Tree With A Baseball Bat”, So here it is, with a side of “Grandpa Menaces The Iowa Relatives With Giant Corn”

**

For the Full Context of this tale, you have to understand how my dad’s side of the family got to America in the first place.  Prior to 1917, they were all farmers of limited success that migrated from county to county, trying not to starve, until a covey of the Fitzpatricks heard that they could be shoveling shit in Grand Americay, far away from the people they owed money to, so they all fucked off to Iowa and somehow made a fortune in the real-estate business in the middle of the depression.  Despite now being comfortably middle-class, they never actually gave up farming, and having a pair of glowing green thumbs was a point of pride in the family.

So, when Grandpa moved out to California, specifically to the Salinas Valley, which is where an absurd percentage of the country’s food is grown because it’s full of probably the world’s most stupidly good soil,  Grandpa had to continue the tradition and set up a garden in the backyard, planted various crops and flowers in January because fuck you this is coastal California, I can start stuff in the middle of winter, and invited his sister Leone and her growing brood of (at the time, 5, later 9 children) out to visit.

They came out in July, to escape the Midwest humidity and Butter fetish for a time, when the corn is typically getting to be around knee-height if things are going well.  Grandpa spent a long time asking how things were back on the farm, plying them with ice tea and grandma’s lethal Angel Food cake, before politely inviting Leone and her Husband Scotty out back to see how his patch was doing, oh its not much really, just a bit of fun for me and the children-

Scotty and Leone stared at the nine-foot-tall goddamn corn which was already setting fruit because it had been going since January.  At the watermelon plant that had taken over the side-yard, and at the other oversize and thriving crops that had taken over grandpa’s yard.  There was a few moments of awed silence.

“Well fuck you Edwin.” Scotty eventually said, before Leone whopped him over the head and the rest of the visit was a pleasant diversion.

the following spring though, Grandpa received a package from Iowa, specifically a small peach tree with a note saying “With Love, Scotty.”

Leone knew better than to engage in such shenanigans, because this is irish-agrarian passive-aggressive Bullshittery at its absolute finest.  “Sure, yeah, you can do corn.  Any asshole can do corn.  TRY THIS FUSSY-ASS PEACH VARIETAL INSTEAD, YOU ASS”  is perhaps a more accurate translation.

Grandpa, not about to be intimidated by a mere tree, planted that sucker in the front yard and proceeded to pamper it- bone meal fertilizer, a brand-new irrigation system, the works.  Hell, he would go out some times and talk to the darn thing.  It flowered, and he borrowed a behive from one of the local farmers to make DARN SURE that it got pollinated, because he was going to mail peaches to Scotty for Christmas, that asshole.

The tree. Did not. fruit.

That fall, grandpa reccived a letter from Scotty, asking after a couple paragraphs of circumlocutions, how that tree he sent was doing?

Grandpa got up, made himself a martini, picked up Dad’s baseball bat, and walked out to the front yard to have a discussion with the Peach tree.  

“I’ve just received a letter.”  he explained, waving the paper at the tree. “Asking when you’re going to fruit.  Now, I think I’ve held up my responsibilities to you as your caretaker, so it’s time for you to start providing.  Do you understand?  This spring, you better start fruiting or I will personally take this bat to you and turn you to into kindling.”

He stepped close to the tree, sticking his face in the branches as though whispering into it’s hypothetical ear. “Do not test me, you little shit.”

The next week, the tree bloomed out of season, and by February, it had set an obscene amount of fruit, which grandpa gleefully turned into preserves and mailed back to Iowa.

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm 14 going on 15 and I hate how so many people who take a character that was just my age, and make creepy art and fic about him. I'm about to turn his current age and have been propositioned since I was 11 and was always told that adults who try things like that are perverts. So why is it when a bunch of 20 somethings pushing a teen who is around my age into a sexual relationship with an adult and do explicit crap, it's not perverted and gross? What about the teens who are feeling sexualized?

First off, thanks for writing me and being polite in your message. 

The first thing I want to address is this: you should never be made to feel sexualized. Unless it’s with someone you want to be sexual with, like a crush of yours. Even with someone you consider a crush, if you don’t want to feel that way and don’t want to do anything that can be considered sexual (be it even a kiss), you should never feel forced. This is not just now because you’re a teen, this is something that all of us go through and need to keep in mind even in our 20s, 30s and so on.

I’m so sorry that you feel that way in real life because some adults are absolutely disgusting. They are. Adults that prey on children are absolutely disgusting and horrifying and you should call them out, tell your parents or your teachers or the police. I’m not kidding here. I know it’s hard and you might feel like you’re going to be made fun of, or that they won’t believe you, or that they will side with the adult, or that will belittle you and tell you it’s not a big deal. If you tell someone you trust, they won’t do all those things. Go with your guts. Tell, even if someone only threw nasty words at you or catcalled you (and I really hope you never went through anything heavier than that). In those cases there won’t be much that you can do, but telling someone will help.

What I can tell from your message, is that you (subconsciously or not) equate sex with generally being nasty and perverted. This will probably be unnecessary, but I’ll say it anyway: sex is not inherently gross or disgusting or creepy. If you feel that it is, then it means you’re not ready to enter a sexual relationship, and that’s perfectly fine and normal. I won’t tell you that that’s only because of your age, because some people never (or very rarely) show any interest in sex (it’s called asexuality and it falls under the LGBT+ spectrum). Whether you do end up growing to want sex or not doesn’t matter here. 

What matters is that now you clearly don’t want to see sex and anything to do with it in your fandom experience and that’s fine. Tumblr offers you ways to make your experience better and show you only the content you want to see. Block any nsfw tag. Don’t follow blogs whose description clearly states that they post nsfw (like mine). Tumblr is a big and scary place if you just take everything it throws at you (be it ship hate, nsfw stuff, etc). The thing with it is that it can’t cater to everyone’s tastes, so you have to be active about blocking the stuff that YOU don’t want to see. Other 14-going-on-15 year olds might be okay seeing nsfw fanart and posts and that will be their Tumblr experience, but you should definitely take measures to protect yourself from what you don’t want to see. 

Now, the thing about Otayuri is that no matter how you twist it, it’s not illegal to ship it, even in a sexual way. You should definitely read this post about it, because the thing is, as much as we can project our feelings and real-world stuff into anime characters, they’re not real. 

I assure you that if Yuri on Ice was a flesh and bone show things would be different. I don’t really watch any current TV shows with teens in them so I can’t speak for what other fandoms do with their ship, whether they’re sexualized or not. I can only speak for this silly and amazing anime that’s been consuming my life for the past seven months or so.

Anime and cartoon characters are a safe way to explore things about real life. Whether it be sex or depression or anxiety or simply falling in love, we can all identify with an anime character and see our flaws, our fears and our history in them.

The thing you have to remember is that we (I’m speaking for the slightly older part of the fandom since I’m in my twenties) have been Yuri’s age. We’ve very likely had crushes on boys or girls that were a bit younger, our age or slightly older (like Otabek is). So I think for most of us, shipping Otayuri is a way to remember what it feels like to be a teen and be in love/have a huge crush. We will never be that age again, and maybe there’s things we regret not doing, crushes we wish we had confessed. By shipping Otayuri in an active way (meaning: drawing fanart or writing fanfiction) we can explore things we experienced as teens (or wish we had) and pour a little bit of ourselves in Yuri’s (or Otabek’s) character. 

Those things might involve anything from simple fluff or rough sex, because, accept it or not, some people at 15 or 16 were (are) having sex of all kinds. Sweet, loving, rough, vanilla, kinky, you-name-it sex. So not to explore that aspect in a healthy way (through fics or fanart) would be lying about what reality is, it would be denying that we ever thought about or had sex at that age.

Much like with blocking tumblr content, you can choose what kinds of fanfiction you read. Only read General and Teen and Up tagged things, read about fluff and about falling in love in a sweet innocent way. Read anything tagged “Ace!Yuri” (it means asexual, the thing I was telling you about before). 

But please understand this: when we sexualize Yuri, we’re mostly sexualizing our (often past) selves. Not other teens, not other real-life people. Yuri doesn’t exist in real life, and many of us see bits and pieces of ourselves in him. When we write about him we really write about ourselves, be it because we want to see how we (maybe a little sassier and bitchier version of us) would have confessed a crush to our best friend, or would have handled the aftermath of having just shoved our gloved fingers in said best friend’s mouth in front of thousands of people. Fanfiction is a study about versions of ourselves that never existed, but might as well have.

Another thing I need to make clear: Otabek is not an adult. I assure you that the morning of your 18th birthday you won’t feel like an adult. You’ll feel like the you from yesterday and it will be anticlimactic af, you’ll be like “That’s it?” and yeah, it will be it. Just because the law in some country or state says that 18 is the age of consent (which is set to 16 or 14 years old in many other countries) it doesn’t mean that you’re automatically an adult at that age. You can be 18 and have had sex since you were 14. You can be 18 and completely uninterested in sex. You can be 18 and have a 15 year old mental age, or you can be 16 and be mentally more mature than some 20 year olds.

What canon has shown us, is that Yuri and Otabek are much closer to each other’s mental age than the 2 years + a few months difference they share. I encourage you to find posts about why there’s no power imbalance between Yuri and Otabek, because they compete in the same sport and they have had similar experiences in life.

In conclusion, if you feel irked about nsfw fanart and fanfics and discussions when it comes to this particular ship, please don’t read it/watch it. But what I can assure you is that none of us are trying to sexualize you or your peers. When we sexualize pixels on a screen we don’t see those pixels as a flesh and bone version of a human, we only see an idealized character whose age we are or have been and whose personality and experiences we want to safely explore.

Also really important: when we write/draw NSFW, we don’t write/draw it for teens to read. I repeat: WE DON’T CREATE NSFW CONTENT FOR TEENS. We’re not your parents or guardians, we write NSFW for whoever feels like they can handle seeing nsfw content. If you’re a teen that goes on the nsfw tag and then complains about it (I’m not saying that’s what you did here, I’m speaking generally), it’s only your fault for going in a tag that you weren’t comfortable to begin with.

TL;DR: 

  • Speak up if you feel sexualized IRL in a way you don’t like;
  • Learn how to use tumblr safely, block tags, understand that tumblr doesn’t do those things for you. Make your fandom experience exactly the one you want to see;
  • Don’t trust adults who tell you this ship is somehow illegal: it’s not;
  • Understand what’s behind fiction and fanfiction as a way we have to explore real life things (often too personal to write about as ourselves, so we project those things in characters we like);
  • Understand that adulthood is not something that happens from one day to another;
  • Learn to discern what content is meant to be consumed by a teen and what content isn’t;
  • Be safe.
You’ll always have a home- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader

Warnings: Angst, kissing, like a makeout kinda part? Is that even a warning?

Description: Jughead seemed off lately, with Jason’s death, and the drive-min closing, reader can tell something is off, but cant really pinpoint what

—————————————————————

The first time I could tell something was off was when I mentioned the coffeemaker. It was funny how something as simple as the mention of a coffee pot was the spark of my curiosity towards the situation.
“I swear to god, you drink so much coffee, I’m just going to get you a pot for your birthday so you can save some money.” And there it was, the slight twitch in his shoulders and the split second of a tense look on his face before he began laughing along. It was so quick, I was surprised I even caught it, but I did.
 I never asked about Jughead’s home life. He always steered clear of it so I figured it was a touchy subject. I wondered why I hadn’t been invited over in… well…. ever. Then I started putting together the bits and pieces of information and realized: I hadn’t a clue what roof Jughead was sleeping under at night.
Obviously, it was time to investigate.
And I had the perfect opportunity one afternoon.
“Shit, I forgot my textbook at home.” Jughead muttered, his head ducked down and searching in his schoolbag.
“We can walk to your house and get it if you want.” There it was, the tense-up. Jughead froze in his tracks for a split second before regaining his composure and kept walking. To anybody else, it would have looked normal, but I wasn’t anyone else. I was his best friend, and he was the boy I was in love with.
“No, it’s fine. I can just use yours, right?” Jughead looked at me with almost pleading eyes, and I didn’t want to egg him on any longer. I wanted him to open up and tell me the truth, not shut me out.
“Yeah, of course.” I smiled up at my friend and he smiled back reassuringly. Deep down, I knew something was wrong.
And a week later, I began to confirm those suspicions.
“Can you believe they’re shutting down the drive-in?!” Jughead screeched at me one morning as I walked up the front steps of our school.
“Wait, what?” I gave him a confused look.
“Yeah! Apparently an “anonymous buyer” gave the mayor an offer she just couldn’t refuse” Jughead through his hands up in dramatic sarcasm before scoffing and folding them over his chest angrily.
“Juggie, I’m sorry you’re going to lose your job, but- “
“it’s more than just my job, y/n!” Jughead paused for a second. I watched his Addams apple move quickly as he gulped down words that were threatening to pour out of his mouth. “It’s, it’s, it’s a special place! It’s special to us! I took you there when you first moved here! Remember?!”
“Yeah.” I laughed, thinking back to the memories of Jug and I sneaking up to the film roll room and watching through the peek hole while Jughead made sure the tapes were switched out on time.
“hello?! Earth to y/n?” Jughead waved his face in front of me, and I brought myself out of my quick trip to the past, listening to Jugheads rambling about the drive- in.
Jughead brought it up later to our friends as we ate at pop’s, inviting Veronica, Kevin, Betty and I to the last drive in on Friday. Of course, they all agreed to go, and we all planned who we would drive with. I decided to walk with Jughead, and Kevin was taking Veronica. Betty was going to go with Archie.
“I’m going to go to the mayor again and see if I can convince her to keep the drive- in.” Jughead told me as we began to part ways that night. I grabbed his sleeve, pulling me back to him.
“Jughead, why is the Twilight drive-in so important to save?” I asked him, my voice soft and full of concern.
“It’s my job, y/n! I thought that might be an important thing to try and save!” Jughead’s words dripped with sarcasm as he yelled at me. He never usually got angry like this.
“Ok, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, good luck.” I spoke softly as I backed away slowly. I watched Jughead’s face go from angry to apologetic and walked away before he could say anything.
Jughead and I didn’t really speak much for the next few days. We still walked to class together, and he walked me home. He told me that the Mayor just wouldn’t listen to him or give his words any consideration, so I tried going to her myself the day after he did to change her mind.
“Hello, miss- “I opened the door to her office slowly, speaking with the politest tone I could manage.
“Miss y/l/n, I’m sorry, but the drive in is closing, and that’s final.” The mayor cut me off with a firm but somewhat polite tone.
“I’m sorry to bother you, this is just really important to Jughead. I just wanted to at least try and change your mind.”
“That’s quite alright, miss y/l/n.” The mayor smiled at me, staring at me for another moment before speaking again.
“Jughead is… special. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, certainly not any that would at least try to help him with something like this. I’m sorry I can’t save the drive in. I wish I could, for your sake and Jughead’s, but… “The mayor sighed, rubbing the side of her head with her thumb and forefinger.
“Thank you for your time.” I nodded, beginning to exit the Mayor’s office.
“Y/n?” I turned to the sound of the mayor’s voice. “Jughead is lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Thank you, Mayor.” I exited the office, my shoulders heavy.
The night of the drive-in, I rode to the lot with Kevin and Veronica, meeting up with Jughead. I found him by the snack counter and smiled as I watched him talk aimlessly with the boy in the booth.
“Hey, Jug.” I greeted my best friend and the boy he was talking to.
“Hey, y/n/n.” Jughead wrapped an arm around me, hugging me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his waist, my head leaning against his chest.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him, my voice muffled by his shirt. Jughead shrugged before looking down at me with a small smile on his face.
“Could be better, but you’re here, so I guess I’m not under a complete raincloud of doom.”
“Oh, so just a small one then?” I teased, grinning up at him.
“Yeah, it’s kinda just lingering somewhere behind me, ready to open up and strike me with a lightning bolt at any given moment.” I laughed at Jughead’s comment.
“Are you gonna come lay with us on the truck?” I asked him, a pleading look on my face. I grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward Kevin’s truck.
Jughead sucked in a breath before giving in. “Fine, Fine, I guess I’ll be angsty and depressed in the back of the truck instead of in the film room.” I jumped happily before intertwining Jughead’s hand with mine and pulling him towards the back of the truck. Veronica and Kevin sat curled up in blankets and scooted over so Jughead and I could sit next to them.
“Ah, it’s the official partners in crime, the tag team, the endgame, the- “
“I thought Archie and Betty were endgame?” I cut off Kevin before he could throw another couple reference at jughead and I.
“Yes, but that was before he got vocal with our music teacher.” Kevin grinned at his subtle pun and I rolled my eye.
“Ok, no Archie, no Ms. Grundy, no endgames, let’s just enjoy the drive in while we can, alright?” Veronica handed Jughead and I a blanket. I climbed in to Jughead’s lap and rested my back against his chest and he wrapped the blanket around us, his arms going around my waist under the cloth.
“Thank you,” Jughead whispered in my ear.
“For what?” I whispered back, grabbing the popcorn Veronica handed me.
“The mayor told me you stopped by to see her.” Jughead whispered to me. I turned around to face him and he was looking up at the big drive in screen, the lights reflecting off his face and casting shadows under his eyes and chin. He looked painstakingly beautiful. Jughead’s eyes flickered down to look at me and he smirked a bit before looking back up at the screen.
We stayed almost the whole night, watching movie after movie. The only time Jughead left was to go switch out the rolls as the credits came after the end of every showing. He would re-appear five minutes later, and I would lift the blanket as he hopped over the side of Kevin’s truck and resumed his prior position, his arms wrapped around me and his chin on my shoulder. At 4 in the morning, the credits to the last movie rolled, with only a few cars left on the lot. Veronica and Kevin were leaned against each other as they snored lightly, and my back rested against Jughead’s chest. I looked up at the mesmerizing boy. He had a hard look on his face and his jaw was clenched, his eyes glossy and shiny, the credits from the screen reflecting off his pupils.
“Jughead?” I spoke softly, my eyes on the raven-haired boy. He kept his gaze on the screen ahead of him. “Jughead, the construction people will be here soon, we have to go.”
“You guys go, I’m gonna hang around a little longer.” Jughead pulled away from me, climbing out of the truck and disappearing around the side of it. I turned to my friends, shaking them lightly to wake them up. Kevin woke first, carrying a still-sleeping Veronica around to the passenger seat and lying her in it. I grabbed my blanket and my backpack and swung it over my shoulder and waited at the driver’s side of the vehicle.
“Aren’t you and Jughead coming?” Kevin asked me, walking around to the front of the car where I stood.
“No, Jughead said he wanted to stay a bit longer, so I’ll wait with him.” I hugged my friend before he climbed in to the driver’s side.
“Hey, if you guys do it in the film room, I want details.” Kevin grinned devilishly before starting the car and driving away. I just shook my head, laughing at his comment. I made my way to the wall of the film room and leaned against it, folding my blanket. I pulled the bag off my shoulder, sticking the blanket inside.
 I waited for Jughead for another hour or so, playing on my phone mindlessly. I figured he was soaking up what he could of the film room before Mr. Andrews’ company teared it to shreds. The drive- in was his favorite place in town, besides the chock-lit shoppe.
I watched as the sky started to get lighter and I checked the time. 6:08 A.M. It wasn’t like I had never pulled an all-nighter before, and I wasn’t going to leave until I at least made sure Jughead was alright and home safe. I leaned back against the building, hearing birds chirping as the sun rose. Minutes later, I heard a voice from the other side of the building, and I turned my head, kicking off the wall with my heel and poking my head slightly around the corner. I saw the back of Jughead, and he was facing a man that looked familiar. Jughead had what looked like a camper bag hanging off his back, a poster sticking out of it.
“They’ll tear that booth down, too. Raise the whole place, send it to the junkyard.” The man in front of Jughead spoke, a smile playing on his lips.” And us with it.”
“Yeah, maybe they’ll save it. All the pieces. Store it in the town hall attic and rebuild it in a hundred years. Wonder who the hell we were.” I could almost picture the bittersweet smile on Jug’s face.
“Hmm.” The man smiled a bit more before his face became serious.
“So where are you gonna live now?” My heart stopped, a million emotions and realizations hitting me like a bus.
“I’ll figure it out dad, I always do.” I watched Jughead walked past him, walking towards the entrance of the drive in. I snuck around the other side of the building, making my way towards the entrance. I managed to beat Jughead to it and stood at the gate, my arms crossed as I waited for the boy I loved.
Jughead came around the corner, stopping in his tracks when he saw me. He had what looked like a busted look in his face as I stood there, a blank expression matching the hurt, worry, and concern for the boy.
“Y/n… what are you still doing here? I thought you-?” Jughead asked me, hoping I hadn’t caught on to what was going on.
“When exactly were you planning on telling me that you were homeless?” I cut him off, my tone of voice coming off as if I were a concerned mother. Jughead opened his mouth, trying to find the words to speak, but gave up, closing it instead.
Juggie? Really? I’m your best friend! We tell each other everything? Why would you keep this from me? More importantly, why aren’t you staying with your father? Is he homeless too? Did he kick you out? What is going on, Forsythe?! Tell me!” I paced back and forth as I rambled, before turning to look at Jughead. He looked down at the dirt underneath his shoes, His hand wrapped around the strap of his bag. I waited for an answer, my arms spread wide in front of me as I stared at him. Jughead said something that I couldn’t make out.
“What?” I spoke, encouraging him to repeat himself. Jughead lifted his head, the rims of his eyes a dark pink and tears falling down his face. My face dropped quickly, my heart clenching tightly as I looked at the broken boy in front of me.
“I said,” Jughead lifted his sleeve to wipe his running nose.” I don’t have a home.” His voice cracked slightly and more tears fell down Jughead’s face as he dropped the bag from his shoulder.
“Jughead.” I dropped my bag as well and quickly ran to the boy, trying to keep my tears from falling as I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Jughead wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in to my neck and quietly crying. We stood there for a few minutes, my one hand rubbing his back and my other pulling off his hat so I could run my fingers through his hair, doing everything I knew in my power that could soothe him.
“Jughead, Hey, Jug.” My hands cupped his cheeks, rubbing the tears away from his eyes while mine began to fall freely.” Listen to me, you are not homeless, ok? And you will never, ever, be homeless, as long as I am alive and breathing.” I stopped for a second to inhale quickly, my nose stuffed.” You are going to come with me to Pop’s, and I’m going to buy us breakfast, and then we are going to go back to my house, and you’re going to take a shower, because lord knows how long it’s been since you’ve had one,” Jughead chuckled lightly at my statement and I also let out a breathy laugh.” And then you’re going to crawl in to the guest bed, and you’re going to get some sleep, because it literally exhausts me every time I see those bags under your eyes. And you’re going to stay with me, ok?” Jughead nodded silently, knowing that this was a losing battle.
“And this never. Happens. Again. You got it? God, Jug, something terrible could have happened to you. We’ve got a murderer waltzing around town, do you know how easily you could have been killed?” I scolded, more tears falling down my face. I backed away from Jughead, going to grab my bag. “I don’t know how I can ever survive without you, ever! I would have dropped dead if anything ever happened to you! You’re the most important thing in this entire world to me! I don’t even know how- “Jughead grabbed my arm, turning me to face him before leaning down and planting his lips on mine. I stood still for a second, processing the shock of the gesture before wrapping my arms back around his neck and pulling his body closer to mine. Jughead wrapped his arms around my waist, his lips moving against mine. After a few moments, we pulled apart, my chest rising and falling as I caught my breath.
“Jughead, I- “Apparently, Jughead wasn’t done, because he pressed his lips to mine again, taking my breath away once more. We stood at the gate of the drive in for a little while longer, Jughead pushing me backwards until my back was against the fence and his body was pressed firmly against mine. We broke apart when we heard a man clear his throat.
“Uh, we’re gonna have to ask you to leave the premises.” The man spoke politely.” Construction begins soon.”
“Oh, sorry sir.” I apologized quickly, fixing my hair that Jughead had his fist tangled in moments ago, and grabbed my bag. Jughead did the same, grabbing my hand and leading me away from the drive in and down the street towards Pop’s. We stopped at my house so we could drop off our bags and began our trek to the 24-hour diner.
“Hey, Jughead.” I looked up at the boy as we walked hand in hand to the diner. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jughead looked down at me, smiling warmly.
“No, Jughead, I- “
“I know, and I love you, too.” I stopped walking, causing Jughead to stop as well. Jughead looked down at me and I leaned up, pressing another kiss to his lips.
Jughead and I made it to the diner soon after, spotting Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin at a booth. When they saw us, they invited us to sit and Archie and Kevin grabbed chairs from another table.
“So, did anything happen in the film room?” Kevin wiggled his eyebrows at me as Jughead and I slid in to the booth. I slapped his shoulder before glaring at him.
“Nah, nothing happened in the film room.” Jughead paused momentarily before speaking again.” It happened outside the film room.” Kevin’s mouth dropped open wide.
“You kinky fuckers!” Kevin hollered. The table laughed as I turned red in embarrassment. I felt Jughead’s hand grab mine under the table and I smiled, my fingers intertwining with his.
He would always have a home, and it would be with me.

It’s finally finished! I wanted to make this comic for the snap election, but if the Tories win I feel like it’s gonna be relevant for the next few years. 

I messaged a few of the spoonie blogs I follow to see if they would be okay with me tagging them in this. I got responses from @spooniediaries and @heyatleastitsnotcancer but I didn’t want to tag anyone else who hadn’t given me their consent.

Caption/script under the cut - please reblog and share. (Note: the captioning is reaaaaally long - it might crash your phone if you’re on mobile).

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2

Sam

As much as you wanted your brothers to stay with you in the Bunker you told them to go. Those victims and to be victims needed Hunters to take the case before anything got worse. These people were dying. You were fine…weren’t you?

Sam and Dean knew you struggled with mental health issues, which is why they were reluctant to leave you, but you promised them you’d be fine. How could you be fine? 

Your breathing was deep and heavy as you reached for your phone. It didn’t take long for him to pick up: “Y/N?” Sam’s worried voice was supposed to fill you with relief, but instantly guilt washed over. “Hey Sweetheart, you okay?” He spoke much more quickly this time.
“Yeah I’m fine…uh…” You tried to think of a reason to call that would convince him you were telling the truth. “I knew we shouldn’t have left you…” He sighed.

“Sammy everything’s fine.”

“Then why are you calling me? Bug, it’s okay to not be okay. I’m proud of you for calling.” His soft loving voice made you well up with tears.
“I just feel so empty.” You whispered, tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Hey shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay I promise.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I miss you.” You sobbed, trying your best to hold it in, but ultimately failing.
“I miss you too, love. Dean can handle the case on his own I’m coming back, okay?”
“Are you sure? I’m not worth it, Sammy. There are people’s lives at stake-”
“Don’t put yourself down like that Y/N. You’re just as important and I’m not gonna let you suffer. I’m coming home….Love you, sis.”
“Love you too Sammy, hug De for me?”
“Of course.”


Dean

You didn’t want to wake him but this was important. Creeping down the hallway, your body visibly shaking from crying, you made your way to your brothers room.
You quietly closed the door behind you, your feet padding on the ground as you made your way over to him. He was asleep.

“D-Dean?” You managed, your lip trembling.
Immediately he was awake -Hunters instincts. After his initial panic, he calmed down. But not for long as he noticed your state.

“Y/N?” He got up from his bed and rushed toward your sobbing figure.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He knelt down so he was eye level with you. His gentle hand tucked away a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lightly resting on your cheek before he held his arms out for you. You collapsed into him, his arms enveloped you in a hug as he held you close.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed, his arm stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest.
He knew you struggled with depression, he knew you didn’t need to talk about it sometimes but just a shoulder to cry on. Dean was there for you whatever the need.

He gently led you to his bed where you sat next to him, still clutching on to him for dear life.
He continued to hold you, breathing with you, reassuring you through the occasional whisper and kissing your forehead.
You stayed there for quite some time, even when your sobs died down to sniffles then to nothing.
You remained, your head resting on his chest, the fabric of his flannel shirt a comfort of its own.

“I’m sorry.” You finally said, looking up at him with sad eyes.
“No you don’t have to be sorry, sweet.” He assured you, rubbing your back “Not ever. I’m proud of you, so so proud of you.”
You nodded against him, not wanting to get up from his comfort.

“If you want to talk about anything, me and Sam are always here. Always.”
“Thank you.” You managed a weak smile.
“Come on, you can sleep with me tonight.” He let you go to shuffle up so there was room for you to crawl on. You did, curling back up against him and closing your sore eyes
He wrapped his arms round you protectively, reassuring you he was there. Your soar eyes drooped shut as he held you close and lulled you into a deep sleep.

Requested by @winchesterjackson

Request:
Going ahead with my request XD Okay, I have an ideia. Can you do one with that the reader!sister is feeling down and depressive, and Sam notice that and try to cheer her up. (Fluff, pleaase, like I’ve told you lol)
I thought I might as well do both Sam and Dean Idk I guess this blogs been too Sam-centric recently and as much as we love our Moose Squirell deserves some love haha, Hope you liked it! x

(Tags after cut)

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13RW is not okay. I am not okay.

Please do NOT continue reading if you’re going to give me shit for this and are a ~hardcore~ lover of the show. You’re entitled to your opinion, and I am mine, and please bare in mind your ~precious~ show is (apparently lol) TRYING to send the message that words have consequences. Also remember you don’t know me, at all.

Edit:I would like to say AGAIN; THIS HAS A WARNING. If you like the show and keep reading, it’s at YOUR own risk of being made upset. I’ve warned you twice. I have tagged it Anti13RW. If people reblog it and tag it in the 13RW TAG, THAT IS NOT ON ME.

IT’S A SHOW AGAINST BULLYING. DO NOT VERBALLY ABUSE ME IN MY ASK FOR DISAGREEING WITH THE SHOW OR YOU ARE NO BETTER THEN THOSE THAT BOUGHT HANNAH TO HER DEMISE. AGAIN, IF YOU ARE A FAN, YOU WILL NOT LIKE WHAT I SAY.

Firstly, it completely stereotypes mental illness. It takes depression back to the old stigma as a ‘cry for help’. Hannah doesn’t kill herself because she’s depressed, she kills herself as revenge for the hurt caused by people around her. In my experience, people with depression don’t actually want to die or hurt those around them, they just want the darkness, the noise, and the pain to stop.
Then, they go on to actually SHOW her suicide, which is vile - we already know she’s dead, we don’t need the graphic content of seeing it. Showing her suicide only allows for one thing; those prone to feeling the same way as Hannah have their impulses justified, it’s no longer an idea, it’s a reality.

Secondly, there are two rape scenes. Both of which are far too graphic for the audience it’s aimed at. From my experience, rape victims can’t even say the word ‘rape’, or read it, or hear it, for a long, long, long time after. I know for a fact that watching it on TV Shows/films is a trigger and a traumatic experience. To aim your show at survivors/victims and then force them to sit through TWO incredibly graphic and unnecessary rape scenes is fucking abhorrent.

Thirdly, the guilt you feel ALREADY when someone you love commits suicide is near enough to ruin you. The ‘could I have done more’ - ‘why didn’t they come to me’ - 'was it my fault’ questions play in your head like a fucking broken record, and the emotional torment you put yourself though makes you physically throw up. Not to mention the fact you miss them every. single. day and have conflicting emotions about them/feel guilty for that too. To be seventeen, not even sure of who you are, not even left school, not legally a fucking adult, and then you receive tapes not only finding out your friend killed herself for revenge and schemed the whole thing, but BLAMES you for it. Clay made a few mistakes, yes, but also he’s a 17 year old awkward, and shy, kid, with a crush on a pretty girl and he can’t fucking READ HER MIND.

This show is a trigger, a big FUCK YOU to actual survivors of trauma, and I didn’t gain a single happy or noticeable message from the show and you should BOYCOTT IT.

Hannah Baker is a sociopath who schemes and plots her death for revenge and blames everyone else around her for her own actions. She’s the teenage version of the wife in Gone Girl.

Becoming Queer

When I was 8 I was obsessed with Disney’s Aladdin. Not just the original movie, but both of it’s poorly made sequels too. I watched them everyday after school while I drew pictures in our basement TV room, simultaneously fixated on their adventures and creating my own on paper.

I remember being absolutely in awe of how handsome Aladdin was, but also of the beauty of Princess Jasmine. They were the most attractive people I could ever imagine existing.

When I was 10 my mom gave me an American Girl book all about puberty and the female body. I only read through the whole thing once, but I left it close to my bed because of the one page I looked at nearly everyday.

It was one of the sections of the book on bodily changes throughout puberty– body hair, periods, etc. At the bottom of was a picture of several girls in front of a mirror, completely naked, to illustrate the different sizes and shapes of breasts. I was absolutely fascinated by these girls: the soft curves of their hips, their round and full breasts, the way their thighs came together. Despite their cartoonish nature, this was the closest I’d come to seeing a grown girl’s body. It was foreign and beautiful to me.

Somehow, I knew this wasn’t normal, so I always hid the book after I was done in case mom asked why I still had it.

When I was 12 I found my self distracted in classroom discussion circles looking at girls chests and lips and thighs. Every time I caught myself I’d immediately look down at my lap and blush. I’d learned by now that it wasn’t normal for girls to look at other girls like that, what it meant to be gay. But I’d eventually find my eyes wandering again, my thoughts focused on how beautiful one of my female classmates was.

I remember walking down the hallway one day mentally reciting “you can’t be a lesbian, you like boys… every girl must look at each other like this.”

When I was 13 one of the girls that I clung to during PE (because they were just as repulsed by physical exertion as I was) told us she was bisexual. This was the first time I’d been told someone could be attracted to boys and girls at the same time. It was confusing and enlightening at the same time.

I remember she put her arms around my shoulders once, during badminton week, her face inches from mine. It made me nervous, but in a way that I’d never felt before. My stomach had dropped, and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like the fear I’d felt from scary movies and my dad yelling at me, but it wasn’t quite like when I felt exhilarated from riding a rollercoaster or binging on sugar with my friends… it was something in between, and entirely new.

I’d told my mom about it and she immediately wanted to call the principal and make sure the girl didn’t touch me like that again. That scared me, her reacting like that. I started acting repulsed by the girl afterwards, telling my friends she had flirted with me even though I wasn’t entirely sure she had, how weird it was and how weird she was.

Looking back, I probably wish that she had been flirting with me.

When I was 14 I was acquainted with the first queer couple I’d ever met. They were in theatre with me, and I’d been wanting them to start dating for months. At this point I’d stopped acting weirded out by gay people and claiming that bisexual people were “selfish and should just pick a side already.” I openly showed my support for gay people, citing my theatre friends of examples of how “normal” they could be.

I walked in on the couple in the dressing room one rehearsal, shocked to see them making out. I stood in the doorway a moment, then walked out without either of them seeing me.

I thought about their kiss for the whole day, wondering how their relationship worked, what it was like to date someone of the same gender as you. I was dating a boy at the time, my first boyfriend and the one that would create fear and an inability to trust for my entire high school career when he started abusing me. I wondered if this couple’s relationship could be anything like ours.

When I was 15 I joined Tumblr. I’d just moved from Michigan to Alabama, had my heart broken by my abusive boyfriend furthering the pain he was inflicting by cheating on me, and was just beginning to realize that I had an eating disorder with no idea how to feel about it or whether or not I wanted it to go away.Tumblr became a place for me to escape all this into “fandoms” and “fitblrs” and personal posts from strangers I didn’t know but whose lives intrigued me. It was on Tumblr that I first encountered the word “pansexual.” I was 16.

I was intrigued and slightly obsessed with the concept of it, pansexuality. I’d only just begun to learn about transgender and heard rumors of other genders outside of men and women, and being attracted to all of them or being “genderblind” seemed impossible, but incredible. I spent months randomly researching sexual orientation and transgender people before finally adopting the term as my own.

Though, it was only in my head that I claimed pansexuality as my own. I didn’t want to tell anyone… not because I was ashamed so much, I’d forgotten that stigma several years ago, but more because I was afraid that I only wanted to be pansexual, not that I actually was.

After all, if only ever been in relationships with boys at that point. How could I know if I was actually attracted to other genders if I’d never dated them?

When I was 17 I got my first crush on a girl. I didn’t recognize that that was my motive at the time, but I was constantly staring at her in the two classes we shared, payed special attention when she spoke, and the day she announced that she had a Tumblr I made it my goal to be a part of her life.

By winter we were best friends. By summer I’d begun to realize the extent of my feelings for her. The first time I got drunk at 19 I blurted out that I thought about making out with her all the time. I told her how I felt at 20, 3 years of pining later.

She told me she didn’t feel the same.

When I was 18 and in my first year of college, I binge watched all of Laci Green’s videos on YouTube, deciding that it was time I figured out how my body and how sex worked. Through her I found not only the courage to masturbate for the first time, but my first confrontation with “third genders.”

I obsessively studied nonbinary genders, claiming to just be interested in them, giving speeches and presentations on them for class, messaging nonbinary people to ask about their experiences. I came to accept that I identified with this term the summer of my sophomore year of college.

When I was 18 I also came out to my dad. I’d already come out to my close friends, sisters, and mother at this point– all giving me generally positive responses. This was not the case with my dad.

We were fighting in the kitchen, something that had become a regular thing since I’d started expressing my feminist and liberal beliefs. He was making homophobic comments and I guess I must of have been very clearly upset by this, because he asked, “do you have a problem with that?”

To which I responded, “Yeah, because I like girls, dad!”

My outburst led to two and a half years of him telling me that my identity was fake, a scheme to get attention, that all I believed was a result of my being brainwashed at college and my own self delusion. The full force my panic, bipolar disorder, and depression came out during this time. The first time I thought of killing myself was when he threatened to kick me out and cut me off from my sisters if I didn’t stop with this “feminazi LGBT bullshit.”

When I was 19 I started dating one of my best friend from high school– a boy, but pansexual like myself, I felt like this was the first queer relationship I’d been in.

He told me he didn’t want a monogamous relationship, that he identified as polyamorous– which I knew because this was one of the reasons his last relationships hadn’t worked out. Thinking I wouldn’t fall as desperately in love with him as I did, I agreed to an open relationship.

Two months into the relationship and much research and self reflection later, I’d come to accept that I was also polyamorous and I never wanted a monogamous relationship again.

When I was 20 a girl on Tumblr reblogged a set of selfies that I’d posted, exclaiming in the tags about how handsome I was. I took one look at her blog, saw the profile picture of her staring directly at the camera with intense blue eyes and an expression impossible to read, and immediately followed and messaged her my thanks.

We started messaging frequently, talking about such expansive and random things, things I’d never talked about with anyone. Soon we were messaging everyday and I began to realize how hard I was falling. I wanted her, I wanted her so badly.

I hadn’t had a crush on a girl that’d worked out in my favor and I was constantly pining for a girlfriend. I loved my boyfriend, I was still attracted to men and non-feminine genders, but I felt not only “too straight” to be queer at that point, but also like I was missing some sort of affection in my life that only a feminine partner could fill. And I was beginning to wonder if this girl was the person who could finally end my wanting.

The only problem with this girl was that she lived an ocean away from me, in Denmark to be specific. But my feelings became so strong that I couldn’t just be silent anymore: I told her I liked her.

She said she felt the same.

Today, March 2nd, 2017, Hayley Kiyoko released the music video for her single “Sleepover.” It wrecked me.

Hayley has become someone that I not only admire, but someone who makes me feel so validated in who I am. A mixed, Japanese American, queer girl in love with art and comfy clothing. Before Hayley, I’d never felt like there was anyone in the media who was even remotely like me. With great music and a connection I’d never felt in any other celebrity before, I became an avid fan. So naturally, when the video for “Sleepover” was released it only took me minutes to find it on YouTube and watch.

The music video was so much more than I could have anticipated, actualizing all my experiences as a queer feminine person, admiring from a far, living in my head with my fantasies and no hope of ever being able to experience them in reality. With this video I was thrown back into all the years I spent confused and afraid of how I felt and who I was, all the girls I wanted to be with but knew they couldn’t work out, or didn’t work out even when I tried. And as melancholy as these thoughts were at first, it pushed me to the realization:

I love who I’ve become. I love that I’m queer.

And despite how grueling the process of it all has been, I wouldn’t trade all that heartache for a normal life if I could. I wouldn’t give it all up to be the straight girl with no struggles or worries about who she loved as I once believed I would. Even with the pain that it had brought, becoming queer has made me the person I am today.

And I love that person, even if there are still rough edges to be smoothed, I am finally unafraid of who I am.

Flashes (Part 1)

Summary: Soulmate AU. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” - William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,783

Warnings: language, fluff, wishful thinking, angst, sadness, borderline depression, sarcasm, did I mention language? might be hard to read for lonely hearts like me.

A/N: Well, I did it…at least I tried. The lovely @minervaem challenged me (sort of) to do an angsty story, so here we go. I’m warning you now, it’s not gonna be pretty. Anyways, it’s only four parts, so only pre-existing permanent tags will be added to this story. Reminder: If you want to be removed from the permanent tag list you need to msg me! Sorry in advance. There’s four parts to this story.

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

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Three’s a Crowd (Part 13)

Originally posted by w-t-f-yes

Member: Taehyung x Reader x Yoongi

Type: Poly Au, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13.

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Melanie Martinez “Cry Baby” Sentence Meme

Cry Baby

“You take things so hard”
“ Your heart’s too big for your body” 
“ You don’t fucking care.” 
“ It’s not you, it’s them.” 
“ You’re one of a kind and no one understands.”
“ Your heart’s too big for your body.”
“I look at you and I see myself.”
“I don’t fucking care.”

Dollhouse

“We’ll be a perfect family.”
“ Everyone thinks that we’re perfect.”
“ Won’t you be a good sister/brother?”
“ I see things that nobody else sees.”
“ No one ever listens.”
“ Places, places, get in your places.”
“ Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces.”
“Smile for the picture.”

Sippy Cup

“Blood still stains when the sheets are washed.”
“Kids are still depressed when you dress them up.”
“ He/She doesn’t think I’m that fucking dumb does he/she?” 
“ He’s/She’s still dead when you’re done with the bottle.”
“If they give you a new pill then you will buy it.”
“ If they say to kill yourself, then you will try it.”
“ All the makeup in the world, won’t make you less insecure.”
“ Sex don’t sleep when the lights are off.”

Carousel 

“ Will I catch up to love?”
“I feel like I’m glued on tight to this carousel.”
“ Oh, come, take my hand.”
“It’s all fun and games ‘til somebody falls in love.”
“Chasing after you is like a fairytale.”
“We’re always this close,”
“Right when I’m near, it’s like you dissapear.”
“ Where’d you go?”
“ Why did you steal my cotton candy heart?”

Alphabet Boy

“ You’ll never catch me cry.”
“ Fuck your degree.”
“ I’m not a little kid now.”
“ Are you smarter than me now?”
 “But you’re not my daddy and I’m not your dolly.”
 “”You think you’re smarter than me”

Soap

“Think I just remembered something.”
“ I’m tired of being careful.”
“ Let me under your skin.”
“ I said too much.”
“ Why do I always spill?”
“ Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap.”
“ God, I wish I never spoke.”
“ Think I got myself in trouble.”
“ I’m sick of all the games I have to play.”

Training Wheels

“ I carry band-aids on me now for when your soft hands hit the jagged ground.”
“ Promise I won’t push you straight to the dirt.”
“ Love everything you do.”
“ you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do.”
“ It’s not like I’m asking to be your wife/husband.”
“ I wanna make you mine, but that’s hard to say.”
“ Is this coming off in a cheesy way?”

Pity Party

“Tell me what to do to make it all feel better.”
 “ Maybe it’s a cruel joke on me.”
“ Just means there’s way more cake for me.”
“ It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.”
“ I wouldn’t have been trapped inside this hell that holds me.”
“ I’ll cry until the candles burn down this place.”
“It feels like I’m dying.”
“ I’ll cry until my pity party’s in flames.”

Tag, You’re It

“I’ll cut you up and make you dinner.”
“ You’ve reached the end, you are the winner”
“ He chased me and he wouldn’t stop.”
“ Can anybody hear me? I’m hidden under ground.”
“Tag, you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.”
“ I can taste your skin in my teeth.”
“I love it when I hear you breathing.”
“ I hope to God you’re never leaving”
“Can anybody hear me? Am I talking to myself?”
“ Your mother said to pick the very best girl/boy and I am.”

Milk and Cookies

“I’m done with this.”
“ I’m fucking crazy, need my prescription filled.”
“ Do you like my cookies? They’re made just for you.”
“ Ashes, ashes, time to go down.”
“ Do you want me now?”
 “Can’t take it anymore.”
“ Sing you a lullaby where you die at the end.”
“ Never want to see you again.”
“Shit behind the curtain that I’m sick of sugarcoatin’.”

Pacify Her

“Someone told me stay away from things that aren’t yours.”
“ She’s getting on my nerves.”
“ Stop lying with those words.”

Mrs. Potato Head

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s only some plastic.”  
“ No one will love you if you’re unattractive.”
“ Is it true that pain is beauty?”
“ Do you swear you’ll stay forever?”
“ It’s such a waste.”

Mad Hatter

“ This dream, dream is a killer.”
 “ I really hate being safe.”
“ The normals, they make me afraid.”
“ The crazies, they make me feel sane.”
“ I’m nuts, baby, I’m mad.”
“ You think I’m psycho, you think I’m gone”
“ So what if I’m crazy? The best people are.”
“ Where is my prescription?”
“You can be Alice,I’ll be the mad hatter.”
“ That’s probably the reason that we get along.”

Play Date

“ Just me and you and you and me alone.”
“ I don’t want to play no games.”
“ I’m tired of always chasing, chasing after you.”
“ I don’t give a fuck about you anyways.”
“ Whoever said I gave a shit ‘bout you?”
“ I wish I didn’t care all the time.”
“ I never know what you need.”
“ You know I give a fuck about you everyday.”

Teddy Bear

“ Gave you love, put my heart inside you.”
“ I wasn’t scared.”
“ Should I be scared?”
“ How did love become so violent?”
“ Everything was so sweet until you tried to kill me.”
“ I didn’t outgrow you, I just didn’t know you.”
“ I’m fucking scared.”

Cake

“ I feel like I’m just missing something whenever you leave.” 
“ We’ve got all the ingredients except you loving me.”
“ I’m not a piece of cake.”
“ So I’m taking back what’s mine.”
 “ You’re just a piece of meat to me.”

Becky Sue

This is a bit of a rant, sorry for any gratuitous swearing.

I know there’s the term ‘Mary Sue’, but I feel like there should be a ‘Becky Sue’, because both in fiction and life, white women are made out to always be the one who is right, the one who needs protecting, etc. There’s white privilege, and I feel that when a white woman against a PoC is involved, the privilege is taken to an even higher level because white women are always seen as the innocent ones.

I feel that the worst kind of Becky Sue in fandom and fiction are the ones that write stories where PoC only exist to fucking bow down to them and be there only to accomplish whatever goal they have. Like a PoC man sees a white woman at the beginning of a fic and is like–

 'Omg, it’s a white woman and she’s the prettiest most precious woman I’ve ever seen and I know absolutely nothing about her, but this is love at first sight and I’m going to marry her as soon as possible. Nothing else matters. Not my family or my identity, nothing. I’m just here to please/worship the ground of Becky Sue.’

It’s fucking nauseating. Then they have the Becky Sue writers who make their Becky Sue characters complete disgusting bitches to PoC, and when they get called out for it, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, you’re misguided, you’re a drama queen. Like, just don’t read my story and let me have my fantasy of shitting all over PoC in peace.’

And then there’s the Becky Sue writers who write kind, intelligent PoC out-of-character (because if there’s a kind PoC character, white people have to knock them down a few pegs though shitty writing, jokes, or white-washing) then when this is pointed out they’ll be like, 'Omg, not everyone sees everything the way you do. I don’t care about the source material, I just want to treat PoC like trash.’

Then, there’s the Becky Sues that will make up excuses for their racism and microaggressions with fake (or real) excuses like: 'Oh em gee. I have depression let me write whatever I want.’ Or, 'Oh em gee. I have Stigmata and a hang nail so you can’t criticize me.’ Or, when all else fails, just resort to name calling and flipping the situation around (white women’s favorite tactic) to where they say the big bad PoC is being a 'troll’ or 'mean’, or a dick, asshole, etc. And they’re the victim of harassment.

Or, another Becky Sue will come along and be like, 'Omg, your Becky Sue character and her shitty treatment of PoC is the best thing I’ve ever read! This is better than any novel I’ve ever read! You’re the greatest writer ever! Like, your Becky Sue is SOOO down to earth!’

Or, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, pointing out my racism is a personal attack. Becky Sues unite! Take down the big bad PoC!’

Just because you have depression or whatever, that doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking racist, and to treat PoC characters like trash. It doesn’t exempt you from being called out or criticized either. If you can’t write (or draw) PoC without being gross, racist garbage. STOP - FUCKING - WRITING - ABOUT THEM, if you’re that fragile to criticism. (I guess white women compare themselves to porcelain because they’re fragile and crack at the tiniest thing–I guess their evil ways is also one thing that makes their looks crack at an earlier age too. *pettyTM*)

I think that white people who are adamant about writing PoC like that are TRYING to antagonize PoC. And may karma just kick them in the fucking ass, please.

Plenty of PoC deal with both depression and OPPRESSION on a daily basis. And do most white people care? Here’s a tiny hint…HELL, FUCKING, NO.

Representation and the things you write do have an effect on others. Don’t try to make excuses or pretend that it doesn’t. 

Can PoC writer’s/fanfic writers and artist start tagging their work as 'PoC writer’, 'PoC artist’? Or 'Black writer,’ etc., etc.

I’m so drained of navigating through klandom’s filth, and having to handle white people (many who claim to be “progressive”) with kid gloves for every little thing because they can’t take discussions about anything that isn’t about glorifying everything they do, or anything that takes the focus off their white world.

submitted by  anon

____________

I’ve been thinking about starting some rec lists of fanfic writers of color maybe we could do that?

mod m

I have just finished binge watching “13 Reasons Why” and if you have no idea what I am talking about, this post might not make much sense to you. So, if you have not, I highly recommend you stop everything that you are doing and go watch the series for yourself. 

If you have, then here we are. We have both witnessed what was waiting at the end of tape number thirteen. Some of you may not agree with or like the outcome that the show brought, and some of you will. I am not here to dispute any of your feelings.

I am here to say this: Hannah Baker is so important. Not because she is the main character of the show. No, it’s something much deeper than that. Unless you have been placed in the same pair of treacherous shoes that you are forced to walk day in and day out, you might not understand where I am coming from.

I am not here to talk about the tapes, and I am not here to discuss whether her actions were right or wrong. I am here to talk about Hannah Baker’s last day on earth. 

As I watched “Tape 7, Side A” I could feel my stomach churn with every flashback of her final moments in Crestmont. I could feel my heart break with her vocalized hope of “giving life one more chance,” even though it was still causing her pain on the inside.

When she sought out the one person who was supposed to be able to provide answers, pushing through the torture of speaking the honest truth and praying for that person to take the reins and bring everything to a pause only for them to make her feel worse than she did going into the conversation. How she stood outside the door, hoping that someone would come after her and take control of the situation but they never did.

How she straightens up her room so she is no longer an inconvenience to her family whom she does not want to upset anymore. When looking in the mirror for the last time and not being about to cry because her body is exhausted from fighting against the storm, having no reaction or attachment to the image staring back. Holding the razor blade in between her fingertips and knowing what she is doing is wrong, but having it be the only option left because every other cry for help has been silenced or overlooked.

And last but not least, the silence that she has been desperately longing for but hating at the same time, filling the room once she has made the deep cuts to her veins.

This episode isn’t fiction. You should consider it a biography. While the people go about their lives living just another day, I have experienced this side of Hannah’s tape far too many times to keep count. Feeling completely numb inside because you already prepared yourself for no one to do a goddamn thing to truly help you, all while mentally scolding yourself for even entertaining the idea of a “chance” in the first place.

Hannah Baker is important because she is just like me. She’s the girl who’s place I’ve stood several times in my life. She’s the girl that I identify with way too much still to this day. When I first watched this scene, I couldn’t breathe. I was nauseous and wanted to skip ahead, but something in my head told me no. That I couldn’t because this was what the twelve episodes before had led up to.

For someone who has previously attempted suicide, I think the show did an incredible job of capturing the final moments of someone’s life and bringing awareness. It’s almost refreshing because, for a very long time, there has been nothing that deals with suicide, rape, etc. blow up in such a “trending” way. The show does not make the situation more light-hearted by having the person be rescued five seconds after making their final decision.  

It was raw.  It was real.

I once publicly posted about my decision to check myself into a mental hospital to seek help for my high-depression after almost driving myself off the interstate and nearly slitting my wrist open all in one night. And I desperately wish I could say it was a success story and I’ve never thought about harming myself again. The truth is, the people who worked at the facility never followed up, and when I personally called seeking more information and help, they never returned my phone calls. The truth is there is not a day that goes by that I do not think about it once. I don’t think it’s something that ever really goes away. 

But I think the worst part about the situation was that many people in my close circle knew from gossiping lips and had the “bless her heart” effect. No one wanted to talk about it. No one asked questions. They just accepted the fact that I wanted to end my life and went on about their business. It seemed like these people in my circle truly believed that talking about suicide would make it happen. And that they were here for me, but only at arms’ length.

This post is not meant to scare you away from viewing the show. It’s not meant for you to have negative thoughts about it either. The show has many layers, Hannah’s suicide just being one of them. There are backstories and evolving characters that guide you through an eye-opening journey through discovering the truth. A real life look into some of the issues throughout schools across the world, and how little things can still have a tremendous effect on someone.

The show is meant to educate. To call for action before something like this happens again. To stop the only efforts for change being posters that say “don’t kill yourself” and start an actual and purposeful conversation. Suicide is such a taboo subject, yet it is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. Every day, approximately 105 people take their own life. Every thirteen minutes, someone chooses Hannah Baker’s ending.

Over the past few days since the release of the series, there have been many posts in the media claiming that “13 Reasons Why” romanticized suicide and that Hannah Baker is a selfish, self-centered teenager. And sure, people have every right to think that. But through my countless hours scrolling through the tags on social media platforms, it’s comforting knowing that I am not the only mentally-ill person who gives this show a thumbs up.

I guess my plea here is simple. Do not go into the show with preconceived notions that this show is “messed up” and unrealistic. Be aware of trigger warnings at the beginning of episodes and make a judgment call on whether or not you personally can handle a scene. Please keep in mind this scene is how it sometimes goes for some people and is important to some. 

And the last thing on my soapbox, there are so many Hannah Baker’s in the world who need your compassion more than your urgency to get finished with the conversation so that you are able to move on. Don’t be afraid to talk about suicide. You never know who is needing you to speak up the most. 

Ten Years (Part 9)

Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work, reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume her, or will she see the future in her grasp?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,144 (minus the flashback)

Warnings: language!!, fluff, mentions of past cheating, confrontation, crying

A/N: Tags are closed. I wrote this so quickly because I got super motivated by all your messages. I think the angst is winding down. This is a turning point for reader, and I’m excited for her. Also, Bucky’s got a lotta ‘splainin’ to do!

Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 -

Originally posted by coporolight

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One of my friends who is a VLD fan but not into the fandom aspect of it asked me why I drop money on art and merch and write fic and if I’ll regret investing that money and time into fandom when my interests inevitably change. 

And I just…I don’t expect VLD to play a major role in my entire life. Of course not. Interests change as they do but for me, regardless of how I feel about the show next year or 10 years from now, VLD got me into writing again which was unexpected. I hadn’t written in 8 years and then all of a sudden, this show comes out and I WANT to write. 

And writing is such a minor thing when I think about the friends I’ve made in this fandom. I’m feeling sappy lately but I’ve met so many creative, supportive, thoughtful people who make me laugh like you would not believe and who give me comfort when I am at peak depression and self-doubt. I’ve come to rely on these people, and you know who you are, for things outside of fandom. Real life shit.

So yeah. I’m not going to regret buying art or agonizing over writing fanfiction because it’s all tied back to a period in my life when I was inspired and encouraged and surrounded by people I absolutely adore. Plus, all the art I’ve procured is fucking gorgeous. 

Promise

No pairing, Jared x Jensen friendship

Request: Concept: Jared and Jensen having conversations like ours. Do you think that’s a thing? - @wayward-girl

Word Count: 779

Warnings: general mental health issues, mention of past depression and anxiety, minor anxiety attack, SO many J2 friendship feels

A/N: So, @wayward-girl and I have talked every single day for the past month (plus), and every single night, I ask her to promise me we’ll talk tomorrow. I won’t go much farther into detail, but just know that if we were Jared and Jensen, this is pretty much exactly how it would go.

*Dialogue in italics signals a text message.


Originally posted by the-winchester-cult

3am. Jared should’ve been fast asleep, but he wasn’t. He was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling of his apartment bedroom in Vancouver, mind scrambling with thoughts - thoughts he couldn’t put together. He just needed to talk to someone, anyone.

Jensen.

Jared grabbed his phone from his nightstand and rolled onto his side, typing out a message to his best friend and costar.

“You got a minute?” 

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Faster?

Summary: You and your boyfriend break up and you use Bucky to release your pent up frustrations. 

Warnings: Smut (including masturbation and penetration)

Word Count: Almost 3000

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in any Bucky smuts in the future

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Masterlist

Bucky Barnes:

-Dirty Laundry:
A flirtation war begins between Reader and Bucky Barnes, but both of them have real feelings for each otherPart 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 & Part 5

-Blast From The Past:
Bucky comes home from Wakanda to meet the newest Avenger. Little do they know, they already know each, from their Hydra years; BFTP Masterlist

-Can You Spot Me? (ModernAU):
Reader spots an absolutely drop dead gorgeous man while working out at her gym. She decides to approach him for some help with her squats; Part 1, Part 2 

-From Another Realm:
Thor returns from Asgard with Reader, and Bucky is instantly infatuated with her; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 & Part 5

-Study Partner:
Reader’s life is pretty ordinary; Until she discovers her cousin is Spiderman and he introduces her to The Avengers; SP Masterlist

-I’m In:
A requested fic ~ Reader’s life changes beyond recognition after she drunkenly hacks Stark Tower; Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3

-Weapon XX:
Reader has nowhere else to turn except the mysterious Weapon X program. Things take a turn for the worse when she finds out who she’s enslaved to; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 & Part 10

-Finally:
Reader and Bucky have been friends for years, and a night of drinking changes their relationship, but they aren’t on the same page
; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 & Part 7

-Touch:
A requested fic ~ Bucky returns from a check up in Wakanda to find that there’s a new addition to the team. She startles him when they first meet; Part 1 & Part 2

-Suspect:
Reader is a rookie police detective who unexpectedly stumbles upon too many secrets for her own good; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

-An Unusual Sight:
A requested fic ~ Reader has a crush on the infamous Bucky Barnes, and he gets nervous asking her on a date; Oneshot

-My Only Chance:
A requested fic ~ Reader meets Bucky, and they share a night together. But she gets something she didn’t count on; Oneshot

-I Don’t Want To Hear It:
A requested fic ~ Bucky cheats on Reader, she’s moved on, and happy, but he isn’t; Oneshot

-Decisions:
A requested fic ~ Reader and Bucky are in love. She can’t remember her life before the Avengers, but a person from her elusive past shows up and flips her life upside down. Now she has to choose between her old life, and her current one; Oneshot

-It’s Obvious:
A requested fic ~ Reader and Bucky are best friends, bonding instantly from the moment they met. Everyone else in Stark Tower are convinced that they are meant to be together; Oneshot

-Someone’s Gonna Get Hurt:
A requested fic ~ Reader is fighting on Team Cap, and she ends up fighting against Black Panther to protect Bucky; Oneshot

-Bucky Bear:
A requested fic ~ At an Avenger’s outing to a carnival, Reader tries to convince Bucky to steal her a plush toy after she, repeatedly, fails to win one for herself; Oneshot

-Seriously?:
A requested fic ~ Sam discovers that his sister, Reader, and Bucky are having sex; Oneshot

-Exit Ramp:
A requested fic ~ Bucky’s jealous might ruin everything he and Reader have waited for; Oneshot

-Pronunciation:
A requested fic ~ Bucky always makes fun of Reader for speaking Spanish and forgetting English words. All jokes are on him when she finds him trying to learn her first languageOneshot

-Traditional:
A requested fic ~ Natasha and Wanda ask the Reader for makeup tips, while Bucky is fascinated with her hijab
; Oneshot

-Shotgun:
A requested fic ~ Reader sneaks away from the Avengers to go visit her parents, and Bucky decides to tag along; Oneshot

-You’re Not A Monster:
A requested fic ~ Reader finds out that she can’t have kids. She thinks she’s fine with it, but seeing Bucky playing with Clint’s kids tells her otherwise; Oneshot

-Cobalt:
A requested fic ~ Bucky has a special present for Reader’s 19th birthday; Oneshot

-Strongman:
A requested fic ~ Reader finds out that she can’t go on the roller coaster at a theme park, so Bucky decides to make their own fun with the carnival stalls instead; Oneshot

-3 Weeks Late:
A requested fic ~ Reader thinks that she’s pregnant, but Bucky tell her that Hydra made sure he could never father children; Oneshot

-Tough:
A requested fic ~ Reader is a Robin Hood style vigilante who is forced to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. to avoid jail, but she can’t stop hitting the streets at night; Oneshot

-Sniffles:
A requested fic ~ Reader is really excited about going on her first official mission, but can’t go when she comes down with a cold. Bucky decides to stay behind to look after her; Oneshot

-When You Say It:
A requested fic ~ Bucky hates being called James, but Reader can’t stop herself from calling him his birth name; Oneshot

-Just Hold Me:
A requested fic ~ Reader is upset from receiving bad news. Bucky holds her and tries to comfort for; Oneshot

-Beauty And The Buck:
A requested fic ~ Reader and Bucky bond over a Disney marathon; Oneshot

-Like Lightening:
A requested fic ~ Based off ‘Powerful’ by Major Lazer feat. Ellie Golding; Oneshot

-Jealous:
A requested fic ~ Reader can’t hide her jealousy any longer; Oneshot

-Realisation:
A requested fic ~ Based off of the prompt: “Maybe you didn’t love me after all”; Oneshot

-Trauma:
A requested fic ~ Based off of the prompts: “Breathe, okay? Just breathe.” and “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”; Oneshot

-Rags:
A requested fic ~ Reader has to teach Bucky about periods for the first time; Oneshot

-Moody:
A requested fic ~ Bucky tries to help Reader when she has bad cramps and PMS; Oneshot

-Little Notes:
A requested fic ~ Bucky expects to find Reader’s little drawings on his arm when he wakes, but instead he finds something more; Oneshot

-Braids:
A requested fic ~ Reader braids Bucky’s hair; Oneshot

-Among The Stars:
A requested fic ~ Bucky sets up a date at a planetarium; Oneshot

-It’ll Be Fine:
A requested fic ~ Bucky is nervous about meeting Reader’s parents and extended family; Oneshot

-Second Chances (AU):
Written for bionic-buckyb’s 5k followers AU writing challenge ~ Based off of the prompt: “Breaking up was the right thing to do… Right?”; Oneshot

-Field Trip:
A requested fic ~ Reader is a teacher’s assistant and gets to tag along on a trip to Stark Tower; Oneshot

-Revelation:
A requested fic ~ Reader discovers that The Winter Soldier killed her parents; Oneshot



Steve Rogers:

-The Man For You (ModernAU):
Reader is torn between two men that couldn’t be more opposite; Part 1, Part 2

-Splitting Image:
Steve meets Claire, an assassin. She looks just like someone from his past; can he hold onto this familiar face?; Oneshot

-Handmade:
A requested fic ~ Based off ‘Shape of You’ by Ed Sheeran; Oneshot

-A Long Day:
A requested fic ~ Steve makes Reader feel better after a hard day of work; Oneshot

-Where were you?!:
A requested fic ~ Based off of the prompt “All I needed was you. And you weren’t there”; Oneshot

-Clandestined:
A requested fic ~ Tony catches Reader and Steve kissing, threatening to expose their secret relationship to the team; Oneshot



Peter Parker:

-Tutoring:
A requested fic ~ Peter Parker’s grades have been steadily dropping, and his principle thinks it’d be a good idea for him to get Reader to tutor him; Oneshot

-It Gets Better:
A requested fic ~ Reader struggles with depression, but she’s recovering. Until Peter and her breakup; Oneshot

-What Was It This Time?:
A requested fic ~ Based off of the prompts “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m always this awkward.” and “I can’t explain it right now, but I need you to trust me on this.”; Part 1 & Part 2

-The Bronx:
A requested fic ~ Reader is an elemental who fights on Team Cap, and fights against Spiderman; Part 1, Part 2



Wanda Maximoff:

-Star (Spangled) Crossed Lovers:
A requested fic ~ Wanda is torn between two super soldiers, Bucky and Steve; Part 1 & Prequel



Platonic:

-Subconscious Movements:
Reader has a secret ability, telekinesis, and is recruited into the Avengers. She doesn’t intend to tell them about her power, but a mission going bad forces her hand; Part 1 & Part 2

-I’m Ready:
A requested fic ~ Reader has powers. She ushers souls from the physical world over to the Eternal. She’s confronted with a familiar face; Oneshot

-Need A Hand?:
Reader is a psychologist sent to help Bucky recover after he comes out of cyro in Wakanda, but he has a little trouble with only one arm; Oneshot

-You’ll Pass:
A requested fic ~ Reader helps Wanda with studying to pass a test to make her a U.S. citizen and remain in the Avengers; Oneshot

-Put A Ring On It:
A requested fic ~ Bucky and Steve catch Reader dancing to Beyonce, and she decides to teach them some moves; Oneshot

-Pony:
A requested fic ~ Sam and Reader decide to crash a fancy dinner Tony is throwing, and liven it up with some dance moves; Oneshot

New Year. New Me. {Peter Pan Imagine}

`

Part One  Part Two 

Peter Pan Imagine 

Author: Joi A. Wade 

Tagged: @tmrhollandkay, @ arfrona

Requested: Yes,  HI CAN I HAVE A EXTREME FLUFF IMAGINE WITH ROBBIE KAY OR PETER PAN WHERE YOU GUYS GET INTO A REALLY REALLY BAD FIGHT AND YOU DECIDE YOU GUYS SHOULD BREAK UP AND HES LIKE NO BABE WAIT IM SORRY AND YOURE LIKE NOPE I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE AND THEN YOU LEAVE AND HE CANT FUNCTION WITHOUT YOU SO HE TRIES TO WIN YOU BACK AND IT TAKES A WHILE BUT ONE DAY HE FINALLY WINS YOU BACK EXTREMELY FLUFFY PLEASE,  OMYGOD I SO LOVE THIS!!!!,  I love this so much ohmhgod,  I got chills! Is there going to be another part?,  AAAH I love this!!!! ;uu; part 3…?,  You should do a part three to New Year New Me, home slice!😬😬,  New year new me is amazing😭 please tell me that there is gonna be a part 3,  That was absolutely amazing! Will there be a third part to New Year New Me?,  Omgggggg 😍😍 I just read both parts of New Year new me you’ve got me hooked ITS SO GOOD !!!!!!1!111!1!1!!!1

Note: Last part after this coming soon! Hasn’t been pre-read, so might be some errors. Enjoy the juice!


Months have passed since the whole New Years incident. Peter has tried contacting Y/n for the longest, from texts to calls, emails, through her friends, voicemail. You name it, he’s tried it. But, nothing from her. Y/n was really done with him. And that didn’t sit right in his stomach, his brain or his heart. 

When he got back to the place the two of them shared, her side of the room? Empty. Her stuff in the bathroom, the closets, the living room. It was all cleaned out. This was really happening, and he was the only one to blame. He didn’t know how long he thought his whole game would last, he just wanted to have someone on the side, just wiling to give themselves up for his needs and wants. But now, all he really wanted and needed was his love to forgive him. 

Peter was a wreck without Y/n by his side. How she would cook breakfast on certain mornings, or him cooking for her and being scolded for almost burning the kitchen down. Usually she did most of the house cleaning, because he worked most of the time, and now their home was a complete mess and it smelled of depression and months of just barely showering. He kept the curtains closed all day, leaving it to look dark; he barely ate, or slept, and he was pretty sure he’s now fired from not coming into work. He was even threatened to be kicked out if he didn’t pay the rent. 

Knocks could be heard from the front door, making Peter awaken from his dark slumber. He hasn’t been dreaming since Y/n left him, just endless darkness surrounding his mind. Once his eyes adjusted, he found the ceiling yet again for the hundredth time that day, and the knocking just kept coming. Letting out a soft groan, Peter turning his head to where he see the door. Confused for a second as to why, he then remembered he never made it to the bed. He was laying the couch.  

Reaching over, Peter took a look at his phone, seeing that there were multiple missed called and messages from work, some friends…Wendy. But, none from the only person he’s been wanting to talk to. The loud and rapid knocking got worse, making Peter groan louder at the annoying noise the echoed around the place. Getting up lazily from the couch, he slowly made it way to the door, shouting at whoever it was that he was coming. Once he opened the door, all he wanted to do was slam it right back. But, it was too late. She flung herself at him. 

“Oh, Peter! Why haven’t you been returning my calls? I was so worried about you, what have you been doing? And, ugh!” As quickly as she clung to him, she pushed him away once the smell hit her nostrils. “You smell like shit. When was the last time you took a shower-”

“What the hell do you want?” He rasps, eyes glaring down at the petite woman that stood with the bedroom eyes he swore he never wanted to see again. 

“I’ve missed you…I’ve missed us-”

“Us? There is no us. There never was, and there never will be. You ruined my life, I should have never let you in, you’ve tainted the best relationship I’ve ever had, and I let you. If I ever see you face again, I swear to God I will be put in jail for beating the shit out of you.” 

Without even hesitation, he slammed the door in her face. Walking away from the pounding, he tried ignoring her whining for him to come back and talk, but just went deeper into the condo. About 20 minutes passed when Wendy finally stopped trying and left, leaving Peter to sit in his funk and silence yet again. He couldn’t take it anymore. Not knowing if you were okay or not was driving him crazy. Were you still in town? Did you find someone else. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he got a text message. Looking at the ID, his heart dropped when he say it wasn’t who he was hoping for. Sighing heavily, he opens it. It was Felix. 

‘Dude, it’s been months. I haven’t seen or heard from you.’ 

Rolling his eyes, he replies. ‘And?’

‘Look I know you’re wallowing, but this is ridiculous.’

‘You and Tiger have made it clear that you want nothing to do with me. Just like her.’

‘I admit, what you did was below the belt, but you’re still my best friend. I care, and Y/n still cares about you. Whether you believe it or not. She does.’ 

Not responding this time, Peter just stares at those words Felix left. Ping.  Looking again, another message. This time, a short video. Of her and some dude. This turned his blood into ice. So here he was crying over someone who won’t return his calls and goes out with other guys. Sure, he has no right to Y/n, they weren’t together. But that doesn’t stop the little green monster that built in the pit of his stomach. Who were you with? Squinting at the picture, he nearly choked once he identified who exactly you were with. 

Her ex, Newton. 

“That British son of a bitch.” 

Surprises (Part 3)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

A/N: I’m not super happy with this but also I don’t hate it so I’m sticking with it because I am committed. I’m also an angst qween, I enjoy expressing my dormant rage through literature. It’s cathartic, you know?

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: He’s lying and you know it, but the fallout for confronting it is going to be painful. Is it really worth it?

Word Count: 1,631

Warnings; Swearing, angst, Jughead has so many emotions, he just wants to be loveD, this ain’t gonna make sense if you havent read at least Part Two

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