dumb teenage girls

Cigarette Part1-SpiderMan

It had been 2 weeks since my mum had been to the doctors. If she doesn’t stop smoking, her respiratory issues will get worse and most likely will result in cancer, but she refused to stop. The only reason she had started was because my dad died, she said that the cigarettes and me are the only two constant things in her life, and she needs us for stability.

So since she refused to stop I would steal the packers she bought, I would remove majority of them as throw them out my window and leave one in the packet for her, so it was easier to convince her that she had smoked most already.

“I’m home” my mum said as she came flying through the door and gave me a tight hug. She had just got back from work with a bag of groceries and inevitably a packet of cigarettes was hidden in there.
“Alright sweetie, how was school?” She began to enquire as she started to unpack the shopping, as I continued to help in search of the dreaded cigarettes.
“Good mum, I had English today and we started work on a new novel, how was work?” As she began to tell me about how Mary lost the files that needs to be sent out by today, I discovered the cigarettes, emptying the packet I poured all but one into my pocket.
“Anyway mum, I need to get ahead start on my homework, We can talk more at dinner” She had already began to clatter about pots and utensils, so I slipped away into my room.

I pulled the cigarettes out my pocket and went to the window, then I slipped out onto the fire escape. I threw them off one by one, with each on that tumbled towards the ground a little bit of stress left me. It was very therapeutic, throwing away those cigarettes. Not to sound to much like fault in our stars but destroying the things that could kill my mum made me feel some what powerful. But with great power comes great responsibility and I was not responsible, so out of sheer curiosity I grabbed a lighter and set the cigarette on fire, and pressed it softly to my lips. I had never done this before I know I shouldn’t, I’m only 15, It was illegal but the temptation was to much. I wanted to understand why my mum did it.

As I began to inhale the toxic greyness that was begin emitted off the white stick, the sweet smoke drifted coolly down my throat and swirled around my lungs like a hurricane. I exhaled, letting the smoke dance out my mouth as It coiled into the darkening sky of Queens and began to blend softly into the skyline. I understand why I got a rush off of it, I hadn’t smoked before but I made no sense for my mum to do it, defeated I dropped the cigarette and let it fall into the alley way below me,
“Ahh! Shit! What was the?!” Someone began to yell from below. Crap. I precariously leaned over the edge preparing to give an apologetic smile and say sorry, I assumed it would be some drunk or homeless man but much to my surprise, Spiderman stared back up at me and narrowed his bizarrely expressive eyes.
“Oh, your Spider-Man” I said out loud now beginning to panic. Not only did I drop a lit cigarette on someone’s head but that someone was Spider-Man, a fucking superhero! I grew more nervous the longer he looked at me and the crush I had on the hero didn’t help me.
He shot a web up to the platform I was standing on, still holding the cigarette that bounced off his head in his hand.
“Is this yours?” He said, looking confused, I don’t think he anticipated that the crime he would catch someone committing tonight was a dumb teenage girl smoking a cigarette.
“Heh, m-maybe” I flashed him an awkward smile.
“Why were you smoking?” He tried to sound intimidating.
“I wanted to know what it was like, my mum does it, I wanted to understand why”
“Oh” that clearly wasn’t the answer he was anticipating,“What was it Like?” He was now intrigued by my thoughts.
“Aren’t you old enough to smoke yourself? Surely your over 18, right?”
“Oh, um yeah, of course I am” He drastically lowered his voice, making him sound less convincingly older.
“So does that mean your more of a Spider-Boy than Spider-Man?” Both of us had completely forgot the reason why he had swung up to me in the first place, and now entirely distracted with our new conversation.
“No! I’m Spider-MAN! MAN!” he overly emphasised man, he was probably rolling his eyes under that mask.
“Okay, Okay Spider-Man, Calm down” we both fell into an awkward silence, but I didn’t know what else to to say. I wanted to keep talking to him, he was not only a superhero but he seemed interesting,
“So, uh how are you?” Stupid, I mentally faced palmed, he’s a superhero, he’s fucking great.
“What?” He seemed both confused and startled by my question, but there was no backing out now.
“I asked How are you?”
“I’m good, I mean not much crime tonight, so, no injuries” I never thought about it, what if he got injured? Where would he go? Does he have anywhere to go? Does anyone know he’s a superhero? He’s probably about my age, he’s just a kid.
“How often do you get injured?” I pulled the cigarette out of his hand, it had burned out so I threw it into the alley way below.
“I don’t know, depends if there’s a fight really, sometimes the injuries are bad but I’d rather it was me than getting hurt than someone like you” I was nearly blushing, I sat down on the steps behind me and placed my head in my hands. This covered the pink glow on my cheeks as SpiderMan stepped closer towards me.
“If it’s really bad you could come over here? I have a bit of medical training thanks to my parents” My mum and dad were doctors so that gave me some basic knowledge and my mum taught me somethings when my dad’s illness got worse.
“So maybe I could treat some of your wounds, next time?”
“I would really like that, thanks”
“Well I can’t have Queen’s hero hobbling back to their house when I can help”
“I-I don’t actually know your name, What is it?”
“My name? It’s Y/N”
“Y/N, good name”
“Heh, Thanks” I smiled letting the blush fully shine on my cheeks.

He stood in front of me, studying my face as I began to study his suit, It was fascinating. Then the peaceful silence we were immersed in was shattered when in the distance a large, bright, blast boomed just two streets over.

I looked into the eyes of his mask,
“Um…well, you should probably go and help, but don’t forget I can always help you if you need it”
“I won’t forget Y/N”
“Good, I’d rather not see you get hurt, Goodbye Spider-Man” Just as he was about to swing a web in the direction of the blast I said,“Oh and sorry about that cigarette”
“It’s not a problem, and thanks for talking to me, not many people are up for a conversation”
“Your mother fucking Spider-Man, I’ll talk to you anytime”

I turned to head back in through me window and as I glanced back around he was no longer on my fire escape. In the distance I seen him swing from building to building, as he morphed into the skyline.

That night the rain battered down against my window as the storm ragged on outside, initially I thought that’s what the pounding was-or my neighbour got lucky- however much to my surprise and horror it was Spider-Man. He clung desperately to the window frame outside as he clutched his right side, both his suit and hand soaked in blood with his suit littered with tares and cuts. The eyes on his masked had scrunched up and through the window I could hear him moan and whine in pain from his fatal wounds.

‘Spider-Man what have you done?!’

  • Nicky: *gets the shit beat out of her*
  • Nicky: *gets held at gunpoint*
  • Nicky: *is probably traumatized*
  • Ya’ll: God, could she be any more annoying!

one thing i also loved was that conversation with amanda about her personal problems and how mean her friends were being - the game treated her concerns and her feelings with so much empathy and seriousness, without dismissing her as a dumb, hysterical teenage girl hung up on petty drama… you as the player had the opportunity to wrap her up in support and care and let her know she deserved better from her friends… i loved it

anonymous asked:

Am I the only one in this fandom who hates the constant comparison between Mina and Usagi and how "they're like twins! So alike!" Like yes maybe superficially but actually unlike Usagi I feel Mina doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve and is muchhhh less honest about her emotions. She internalizes and represses and is afraid to look "weak" or be emotionally open while Usagi is just a big ball of open, honest emotions. Am I the only one who thinks this?

I both agree and disagree with you. On a surface level, Minako and Usagi ARE the incredibly similar, mischievious, nightmare, blonde, whirlwind twins and I LOVE that and I LOVE how they can play into each other like that. On the other hand, Minako and Usagi are also SO, SO DIFFERENT, and a lot of times it’s very easy to overwrite those differences BECAUSE of how similar they appear to be. Both characters suffer from that, but I feel Minako “37 Hidden Motives Behind a Barbie Mask” Aino suffers significantly more.

Like you said, Minako sure as hell doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, even her closest friends are usually kept away from her deeper feelings. Minako is also more self-centered, doing her best at all times to focus the spotlight on her people (and preferably herself by association) even if it comes at the expense of randos she doesn’t know. (Usagi, in contrast, looks at said rando and MAKES them one of her people). And of course, when you get right down to it, Minako just has a million more things going on in her head than Usagi does: preparing for imminent battle, considering enemy’s strengths, contemplating battle strategies, figuring how she can cut the lunch line to grab the last roast beef sandwich.

It’s because Minako is all of these things that she seems so very much like Usagi. Wanna keep your fears and doubts secret from thos dearest to you? Play dumb. Want to control everyone’s attention? Be obnoxious. Want to be three steps ahead of your enemy and have them severly underestimate you and your abilities? Be a young, dumb, obnoxious, teenage girl. The Blonde Disaster Mask is so multi-purpose and so faultless that it is the most ingenious Minako creation to exist.

But here’s the most important part: Minako so flawlessly executes the Blonde Disaster disguise because she is, in fact, a Blonde Disaster.

Minako could go with any number of mechanisms to get similar effects, but she goes with ditzy blonde because it is a) so readily at hand and b) actually who Minako is. Minako loves playing pranks, and mindlessly flipping through magazines, and storming through 80 different stores to find one specific pair of shoes, and flirting with anything that’s cute, and doing hair, and gossiping, and ALL OF IT. Minako knows she and all her friends could very well die at any moment, she brings an entirely new meaning to “carpe diem” and she is going to go mach 50 doing the things she loves and living her life because she’s so aware that she might not have much of it left to live. She doesn’t stop being the fully-competent leader of the senshi just because she likes painting her toes while singing karaoke, rather being a senshi helps her appreciate painting her toes while singing karaoke even more.

So Minako IS a sort of twin for Usagi, because day-to-day, in the moment, they are both two blonde, teenage girls living their teenage girl life. And they can do those teenage girl things they love together, and it’s so much better BECAUSE they have each other. They can bounce their energy off of each other and reach levels never possible before, and just plain, old have FUN together. If that isn’t beautiful and precious and IMPORTANT than I don’t know what is.

In summary, it’s a shame that people might write these two off as being copies of each other, because they really, really aren’t. But, those similarities are just as great and as important as their differences.

4

someone has a case of “fallen and can’t get up”

A Cry for Help

Originally posted by birdmacklin

Pairing: Daryl x friend!reader
Word count: 1,314
Warnings: Swearing
A/N: Y’all get a bonus chapter today to make up for the ending of One Drunken Night ;) BUT that means none tomorrow.

Part 8 of Gonna Marry That Boy


It had been an hour. An hour of yelling. Running a hand through your hair, you were pacing your room. You couldn’t take much more of this. Hell, you didn’t even know what they were yelling about at this point. You didn’t even care.

You couldn’t even run off to Carl’s. Not because of the two of you being forced to break up, but because they weren’t there. You knew that every year, for a week in August, Rick, Carl, Shane, and a couple other buddies went out camping.

“Fuck this.” You grabbed your phone and looked through your contacts list. Finding the name you were looking for, you hit dial.

After a few rings, you heard the gravelly southern accent on the other end. “Hello?” He answered.

You chewed your lip for a moment as you heard a door slam, and your father’s bike rev to life. “This is Y/N. Uh, you might not rememb–”

“Carl’s girl?” He asked. “Yeah, I remember you. Everything okay, kiddo?”

Sighing, you sat on your bed. “No, not really. I’m sorry for calling… I-I just didn’t know who else to…” You told him, suddenly feeling like an ass. You’d only met him a handful of times, but Rick gave you his number. He told you he was someone that you could trust, and if you couldn’t get ahold of him, this was who to call. “I just need someone to talk to. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’l–”

He sighed. “You need someone to talk to, I’m here.”  He told you. “I ain’t about to let you off the line when you sound like this. You home?”  

“Yeah, but that’s part of the problem. Can you pick me up?” You asked nervously.

“Yeah, I can do that. Text me your address, and I’ll be there in ten, kiddo.”

You smiled softly and agreed before the two of you hung up and you texted him. Looking down, you decided it was probably time to actually get dressed. You pulled on a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a hoodie.

After you pulled on some sneakers, you quickly moved downstairs. “Where are you going, young lady?” Your mother asked as you reached the door.

Glancing over your shoulder, you shrugged. “Out…”

“You mean you don’t tell your father where you’re going?” She asked, her tone perfectly clear on what she was indicating.

“No. I don’t.” Which was only half true. “I don’t have to. For one, everyone knows I’m Negan’s kid, and that if anyone fucks with me, the Saviors would be on their asses. And, secondly, you aren’t exactly in the position to stand there and question his parenting, Y/M/N.” You shot back before storming out, slamming the door.

She was right behind you, livid. “Y/N! Don’t you dare walk away from me!” She yelled after you.

Just then, you heard the rumble of an unfamiliar bike. “I’m not. I’m riding away.” You smirked, and she couldn’t help but think how much like your father’s it was. You climbed on the back of the bike after you were handed a helmet, and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Keep reading

I wonder if five years down the road you’ll wake up hugging your pillow thinking of me. But I wish you all the best in this life because I love you too goddamn much to ever want you anything but happy. I wish that this week never happened and we were still laying in bed smiling and touching each other’s faces. I wish you would let me in to your head and spill out all the shit. I wish we could work through this. I wish my heart wasn’t pounding 24/7 and I didn’t feel like I’m being stabbed repeatedly in the chest. I wish you didn’t know every fucking outline of my body and the way I kiss you when you’re sad. Because I still feel your goddamn lips on mine in my sleep. I don’t know if what I feel even matters anymore but I hope you know that I love you more than I love anything on this world and seeing you hurt and not letting me help makes my body ache and my head spin. It doesn’t stop. The spinning. My room circles around me like a Ferris wheel that just won’t fucking stop. Maybe I shouldn’t say any of this, maybe I should be better off never seeing you or speaking to you again, but I don’t believe that. I think that what we had doesn’t come often. And maybe I’m just a dumb teenage girl who doesn’t know anything but we were special. We were different. And if you don’t share any of these thoughts then I guess it was never real in the start, but oh god I hope it was.
—  I’m just sorry
Teenage Girls Are Fucking Awesome

Today Jessica Rudd published a- frankly bizarre- piece as part of her regular blog for the Brisbane Times. She spoke about how a pharmacist in her mid forties was rude to her Grandmother and that we should treat older people with more respect. However for some unknown reason the first half of the piece seems to be making fun of some teenagers she saw in a DVD store.

Jess makes fun of a teenage girl, emphasising her use of slang and is surprised when the young woman has ‘excellent taste’ because she enjoyed the film Quartet. She ensures she mentions the ‘faux hawk’ of the girl’s friend, that her ‘cuticles were coloured with pink and yellow highlighters’ and ‘her midriff festooned with temporary tattoos’.

Unfortunately this is only too common occurrence in the media, the shaming of young women. The stereotype of the dumb teenage girl who only cares about clothes and boys is tired and overused.

You know what? Young women can wear midriff tops and say ‘oh my god’ and crush on celebrities and still be human beings who are capable of critical thinking and intelligent conversation. I’m incredibly sick of young women’s language and fashion choices being the sole focus of their representation in the media.

I’m constantly astounded by teenage girls and how incredible they are. Take Tavi Gevinson who at the age of twelve started a fashion blog which has now become Rookie Mag, a place for articles on pop culture and feminism. What about Malala Yousafzai, who stood up to the Taliban on education for girls? There’s Nicole Maines, a trans* activist who took her school to court for not allowing her to use the girls bathroom. Bundat Mununggurr, a young Yolngu woman who is campaigning for constitutional recognition for Indigenous people. And who could forget the Year 9 girls of Newton High, who questioned Prime Minister Abbott on his policies so well he had to ask ‘for a bloke’s question’ because he was uncomfortable.

This is only a very small list of the amazing things teenage girls are doing. Yet the focus is still on their texting slang, their clothes, and assumptions that they’re oversexed and uneducated. And every time someone like Jess Rudd makes judgemental observations about teenage girls, it dismisses all the good that they’re doing and reinforces the stereotype.

To all the teenage girls out there: I was you not so long ago. You amaze me with your intellect, your humour, your passion. I am in awe of you. You are fucking awesome.

  • people on tumblr: we must protect young girls from being adversely influenced by JokerxHarley and prevent them from romanticising abuse! For their own wellbeing! This is about women's rights! Protect women from harm!
  • exact same people on tumblr: omg all you dumb teenage girls who ship JokerxHarley, how fucking stupid and twisted do you have to be, it's so pathetic and sad, you probably advocate abuse in real life!
gasexplosionatthescalpelfactory ответил(a) на ваш пост: gasexplosionatthescalpelfactory ответил(a) на ваш…

Eh, I don’t know much about the spiritassassin fandom. I don’t really ship it, and Trek wins out against most things for me :D How about yourself?

Donnie Yen is my new true love
So it hurts me to see how someone turn him into a dumb teenage girl in fics. For them he isn’t an adult handsome sexy man but a cute funny boy who wants his “beautiful big stallion so big! and so hot!”
It’s like turning Kirk into a whore.