folded bill

This isn’t really a fuck anyone, just something that happened and I want to share with others out there so maybe they’ll also start doing the same.

So I’m a cashier, and recently I had noticed that when I have a blind customer who pays with cash, each bill is folded differently so they can feel which bill is which. After noticing that, I decided to start handing each bill one at a time based on type of bill, and letting them know which bill I’m handing them.(I’ll give them their 10, then their 5, then tell them I’ve giving them their two 1s, giving them the chance to finish putting away the previous bill before I give them the next one)

Every single time I’ve done this, I’ve had them be happy and surprised and complimentary, about how that was really nice and useful and how I must have experience to know to do that. Today I had a customer say “Now if everyone was more like you, the world would be a much better place. So many times, the cashier will just shove all the change and receipt at me!”

Until I had put together the dots of how they had all of their bills folded differently, I never would have even thought about it before. It was just chance that I noticed it, and decided to try handing the change back differently.

So, not really a fuck customers. Maybe more of a fuck ableism? And maybe with other people reading this, they might start doing the same and making things a bit easier for their blind customers when it comes to change.

Magickal Use of Cinnamon

Planet: Mercury/Sun/Mars/Uranus

Element: Air/Fire

Folklore: First cultivated and used in the East, Cinnamon was burned to purify the temple. It also promotes health, vigor and libido.

Main magickal uses: Clairvoyance, consecration, divination, energy, good luck, love, money, passion, peace, prosperity, protection, psychic development, success Other magickal uses: communication, happiness, harmony, healing, inspiration, knowledge, meditation, purification, spirituality, tranquility, wisdom Lore: Paul Beyerl suggests that cinnamon be paired with tourmaline for best effect. Cinnamon is important as a purification incense in China. Do not use externally on the body, as it irritates the skin.


Protection
The sun is typically seen as representing male or active energy and since cinnamon is a sun-related ingredient it is thought to be useful in protection magic. For a simple cinnamon protection amulet, tie nine cinnamon sticks together and hang the bundle above your door to protect your home from from unwanted people and energies. Laying cinnamon sticks along your window sill will serve the same purpose.

Prosperity
Financial and personal prosperity are also related to the sun’s active energy. Cinnamon sticks combined with other “prosperity” ingredients such as whole cloves, ginger and orange sections can be used as a simmering potpourri to help boost your efforts in job hunting, getting a raise or making general improvements to your financial status.

Love
Because of its hot, fiery nature, cinnamon is a natural ally for love and sex magic. Try turning up the heat in your love life by grinding cinnamon sticks into a chunky powder and burning the powder as incense along with equal parts of red sandalwood and myrrh. Or simply place a stick of cinnamon under your lover’s pillow and see what happens.

SPELL:  Money Talisman

YOU WILL NEED: 

  • Five pumpkinseeds 
  • Three Cinnamon sticks 
  • One dollar bill 
  • Green cloth 
  • Green candle 
  • Cinnamon or basil oil 
  • Green ribbon

SPELLWORK

On a Friday during the waxing moon, assemble all your ingredients at dusk. Take the candle and rub (prosperity, basil, or cinnamon) oil into it while focusing on your bills and debts being paid, see them being paid, picture your self writing checks and smiling all the way to the bank. Light the candle and take the green cloth, add the pumpkin seeds, Cinnamon sticks, and the dollar bill and fold three times, tie with ribbon. Chant while you work and focus on money coming towards you;

Dollar bill, work your will.
Pumpkinseeds do your deeds.
Cinnamon sticks, do the trick,
Bring needed money & bring it quick

Repeat three times burn candle for nine minutes. Keep Talisman near your wallet or purse, and bills to be paid. Expect money to come, know it will and it shall be.

He Is

He’s video games
On a Tuesday afternoon,
And always checking
That my gas tank is full.
He’s the Lego catalog
That still gets
Delivered to my house,
Even though it’s never
Looked at.
He’s made of
Impeccable impressions
And stoic words.
He’s smart and funny,
Caring and kind.
He’s the wind
On stormy days,
And the sun
In the bright blue sky.
He’s a glass of
White wine
After a long week
And a shot of whiskey
When I can’t
Fall asleep.
He’s the slow dance
In the kitchen,
After I’ve finished
The dishes,
And the couch
In the basement
That comforts me
During a sad movie.
He’s the first snow fall
Of the year,
Untouched and bright white
Covering the roads
And sidewalks
Like a postcard
Sent home.
He’s quiet yet loud,
With a soft touch
And a gentle smile.
He’s the folded up
Dollar bill
In my glove compartment,
Protecting me
On my long drives.

He’s the beating
In my heart
Preventing me
From ever
Letting go,
And the blood
In my veins
Keeping me
Alive.

He’s home.
He’s love.
He’s everything
I miss.

-C.A.

the signs as weird f. scott fitzgerald things
  • aquarius: the time he stood on a window ledge reciting poetry and almost jumped out
  • pisces: his foot fetish
  • aries: the time he threatened to jump out a window to prove his love for james joyce
  • taurus: finding out where hemingway moved to and showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night drunk
  • gemini: the egg yolks he'd put in his friends' hats as a prank
  • cancer: leaving bowls of money out at parties for people to take
  • leo: the time his school paper publicly wrote about him, "will someone poison scotty or find some means to shut his mouth?"
  • virgo: only getting into college because he wrote the admission board that it was his birthday and they felt sorry for him
  • libra: eating ice cream for breakfast and fudge for dinner
  • scorpio: bringing a suitcase filled solely with coca cola bottles to work when he was trying to quit drinking
  • sagittarius: the time in the army he was caught naked with a girl by one of his superiors and tried to bribe him with a one dollar bill folded to look like a hundred
  • capricorn: when he dropped out of college he tried saying it was because of his tuberculosis but really he was failing every single class
Roller Rink

Beverly pressed her elbows into the weak wood railing as she let out smoke from her gaped mouth. Flickers of orange fell from the tip and crumbled to black ash before hitting the ground. From her right, quiet mumbles of swears grew more frigid. She glanced up, Richie was sat on the railing, hands shaking with what looked to be nerves as he tried to light his cigarette. From her angle, his head was perfectly blocking a good chunk of the neon sign behind him. She tilted her head and closed one eye, the blinking white and blue wing seemed to now steam from Richie and not the bright red lit roller skate. She smiled and steadied Richie’s hands for him. He successfully lit the stick and immediately shoved it between his lips with no thank you. She opened her mouth to ask him just what the hell crawled up his ass and died when they heard the roar of an approaching car down the main street. The headlights flooded the whole area in white light. Her eyes rolled and she stood straight up, still holding onto the railing. “Turn off your high beams, asshole.” She frowned, gesturing to the still pretty light, early stages of afternoon rolling into the evening. 

She waited patiently for Richie before stomping out her cigarette and crossing her arms. “Ready to go back to falling on your ass?” She gestured to the red trimmed roller rink doors. Richie stomped his out and pushed up his glasses. 

“You say something about your ass?” Richie pretended he hadn’t heard what she said with a smirk on his face and she stomped on his foot with a triumphant grin. He shook his head and held the door open for her before following inside after her. He dragged his feet across the swirled rainbow carpet and back over to their bench seat. Ben was sat, guarding the pairs roller skates. Bev plopped down next to him and started kicking her shoes off and shoving them back into the warm skates. Richie glanced down at his wearily before glancing back at Ben. 

“Where’d Eddie go?” 

Ben pointed and Richie followed the direction to find Eddie with Stan and Bill on his sides skating in the large rink. He smirked and sat down to put on his own pre-used skates. He stood, rolling himself to the wall around the rink and waited for Bev, retying her laces before sliding over to him. She started chuckling as soon as she caught sight of Mike, skating smoothly backwards. Richie shrugged. “No big deal, I can do that.” 

“Uh-huh, and I’m Miss America.” Bev rolled her eyes and waited as Stan, Eddie and Bill started coming round the corner. Richie chuckled and tapped her shoulder. 

“You are in my eyes, Bev.” He put his hand to his chest and she slapped him. 

Once he saw them, Stan immediately skated to the wall and Beverly laid her hands over his. “They taking a lot out of ya?” She teasingly glared at Bill and Eddie. Stan let out a gasp of breath and nodded. 

“Can’t say I blame ya, Staniel. I can barely keep up with Eds, myself. The little guys faster than a speeding bullet, I swear.” Richie skated around the wall to get into the rink and wrapped his arm around Stan, who shrugged him off. Richie sighed. He smiled and took Eddie’s hand. 

“It seems that suddenly I have forgotten how to skate, you will have to teach me, Eds.” Richie pretended to slip up just standing still and Eddie pursed his lips and then smiled. Richie took in the view. 

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, babe. I mean, the florescent lights reflecting on your rainbow shorts-” 

Eddie slapped him and Richie leaned down to brush their lips together. 

“Eww, get a room.” Beverly swatted her arms out to push them. Richie clasped his hands around Eddie’s shoulders and smirked at her. He flicked his hair back with sass and ushered Eddie away. 

They skated away from their friends, hand in hand. The lights went dim and the songs took a slow turn, the DJ announced it was time for the couples skating. Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie gripped his hand tighter. “This is so cheesy.” He felt his pink cheeks start to contradict him. Richie chuckled, delighted. 

He kept his clasp of Eddie’s hand as he skated in front of him, managing to safely skate backwards much to Eddie’s shock. He swung their arms and smirked. 

I gotta take a little time, a little time to think things over, I better read between the lines, in case I need it when I’m older” He tried to pull a smooth sultry tone out of his locked box of voices. 

Eddie took the opportunity to swing himself in a turn under Richie’s arm and pulling himself closer, impressing his taller boyfriend.  “Dang where’d you learn to skate, kid?” Richie stopped singing to compliment him. Eddie shrugged, resorting to his routine move of slapping him in the arm. 

“ In my life there’s been heartache and pain, I don’t know if I can face it again…”

Richie made grand hand gestures and started kneeling down to the floor, Eddie cringed and held tightly on his hand. He was on the floor, skating backwards. Eddie was urging him to stand. 

“Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far, to change this lonely life….!” Richie then proceeded to fall on his ass like Eddie had predicted he would but tugged Eddie’s hand with him, making him fall on top of him as people skated around them. “I want to know what love is, I want you to show me.” Richie cut his singing short with embarrassment. 

“Can we get up now, dipshit?” Eddie chuckled and started to stand. Richie watched him get up, smiling suspiciously. 

“You can, Eds. I have to stay down here if I want to do this right.” Richie started feeling around his pockets and sitting up to kneel on his one knee. Eddie started to sweat nervously as he stood over him. 

“What are you talking about…?” Eddie raised an eyebrow as the lights went back to the normal rainbow blinkers. He raised his foot to it’s tip toe to bang the brake of the skate on the ground.

“Ughhh, hold on let me find it.” Richie kept patting his pockets and reached out to grab Eddie’s hand again. He was down on one knee, patting his pockets, and holding Eddie’s hand… “Richie, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“A-ha!” Richie pulled out a small gold band ring from his pocket. Eddie’s mouth gaped. Eddie tried to release his hand and maybe skate away in panic but Richie just held on tighter. “Relax, it’s just a frickin’ promise ring, Eds.”

“Oh” 

Richie broke out into hysterical laughter. “We’re seniors in high school Eds. Did you really think I was dumb enough to propose to you?” 

Eddie giggled “Honestly, with you….” 

Richie pulled himself off the rink floor and they awkwardly stood still, occasionally rolling a skate. “So…can I?” Richie waved the ring and Eddie blushed, putting his hand up eagerly. 

“Uh-huh.” Eddie smiled delightfully as Richie slid the ring on his finger. “When did you get this?” 

“Well, It was originally for your mom.” Richie chuckled and Eddie went to skate past him. Richie, still laughing, went after him. “Hey-babe-wait up.” 

They slowed to a good skating pace. “Hey, Stan helped me pick it out from that jewelry place in the mall. I was gonna ask Bev but he walked in on me looking at ring brochures…and well what’s a guy to do?” Richie chuckled again.  

Eddie looked at his hand, waving it under the neon lights. The ring glittered and he felt his cheeks heat up again. “So it’s a promise ring?” 

Richie threw his arm around him and nodded. “Yes indeed Eddie my love. It’s a symbol of our loving relationship and a promise that there will be another ring in the future.” He explained awkwardly, wiping his mouth like. Eddie skated to the wall where everyone was at, getting ready to get pizza. Stan gave him a wide knowing smile, the other Losers looked at them, curious as to why Richie had been knelt down in front of Eddie like that. 

“Let me see it.” Stan gestured for Eddie to give him his hand, obviously proud of his involvement. Bill looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the shiny band. 

“You d-d-didn’t pr-pr-propose did y-you-?” Bill widened his eyes and Richie rolled his eyes. 

“It’s a promise ring you dips. A symbol of our loving frickin’ relationship.” He said, exasperated. Eddie giggled as Stan and Bev played with the ring. Mike attempted to kick off his skates and hopped over, taking Eddie’s hand. He smiled. 

“How did you afford this?” Mike asked, passing Eddie’s hand to Ben like it was a piece of food. Richie swallowed and bit into his cheek. He gave Stan a nervous glance. Stan sighed. 

“Richie, uh…well he sold his bike.” Stan mumbled for him and Eddie immediately took his hand back from Ben. He gave Richie wide worrying eyes. Beverly looked at Richie in shock. 

“It’s no big deal, Eds. I wanted to do this for you.” Richie rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and felt himself heat up. Eddie took his hand and skated him off towards the food area, the losers took the hint to stay behind. 

They skated and nearly fell onto the table as they sat down across from each other. “Rich…You loved that bike…I mean, that was the bike you rode that summer…-” 

“Shit Eds, I can’t say I’m devastated to lose something that reminds me of almost dying.” Richie shrugged and Eddie slumped his shoulders. He gave him a thin lipped smile and reached over to run his fingers down Eddie’s arm to his hand, playing with the ring. 

“I just didn’t want you to regret it…”

“Eds, I have a car now. I can drive, I don’t need a bike and this purchase wasn’t a waste….was it?” Richie looked up, a little insecurely and Eddie shook his head immediately. 

“Of course the fuck not.” Eddie chuckled and leaned over the table, skates sliding him easily to connect their lips. Richie made it last as long as it could before Bill set down two Styrofoam cups of pop down between them. 

The boys sat back down. “C-c-can I borrow, R-Richie?” 

Eddie shrugged, standing and skating away. Bill took his seat as Richie picked at his teeth. “Whats up Big Bill?” 

Bill folded his hands together. “A promise ring is a big c-ca-ca-commitment.” He sipped his pop and Richie scrunched his face up. 

“Yeah….your point?” 

“You better treat him right R-Richie, or i-i’ll…”

Richie smiled warmly. “Punch me again?  

Bill chuckled but had a flicker of seriousness that made Richie gulp. He saluted him with a smirk and he seemed satisfied. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie was killing time, skating around the rink in boredom. He had his hands behind his back, playing with the ring subconsciously. He listened to the pop music as he swiveled around people and tried not to burn his eyes by staring into the bar of lights-

“Hey!”

Someone grabbed Eddie’s hand and he nearly face planted as Stan came into view, skating with his entire body up straight.  “Sorry.” He smiled and Eddie shrugged. “Look, Bill’s giving Richie the talk….y’know about treating you right and stuff. He told me I should do something similar with you? Being Richie’s first friend and that.” Stan shrugged, looking confused. Eddie chuckled. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what to say other than…good luck being stuck with that.” He pointed as Richie slid right into Ben’s arms, toppling them over onto the carpet. 

Eddie giggled and bumped their arms together as all seven of them met back on the rink. Eddie skated right Richie with a grin. Mike put his arms around them and grinned. “I offer you my congratulations…” 

The boys returned his smile and Mike suddenly swept Eddie up and lifted him, putting his on his back and skating away. Beverly smiled. “Congratulations squirt!!” She shouted after them. 

“Alright, somebody lift me!” Richie held his arms open and closed his eyes and everyone slammed into him as they skated past. “Hey, somebody congratulate me!” He shouted after them from the floor. 

Stan slowly skated over and reached out his hand. Richie took it and he was pulled up. “Congrats, he’s way out of your league.” Stan said in such a classic Stan way. Richie chuckled, looking at the way Eddie was laughing his ass off but in a sort of panicked way as Mike skated. 

“Yeah…fingers crossed he doesn’t notice.” Richie crossed his fingers as Stan chuckled. 

Bachelorette, Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Prompt: You’re starting to question your place in life when you find out your best friend is engaged.

Words: 1,550

Author’s Note: It’s been awhile, huh? Life’s been a bit crazy and a lot of my writing attention has gone to Cafes and Late Nights, but I was able to get this one together! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Drinking.

Askbox | Masterlist


“You’ve got an admirer, ten o’clock.” Pippa’s tipsy voice sounded from next to you. You ignored her insistent tugs at your shirt sleeve as you ordered another water. “Come on! We’re in a club, you’re single, he’s attractive.”

“Then you talk to him.” The bartender smiled as she offered your drink, a sympathetic look for the designated driver. Pippa wiggled her ring finger in front of your face.

Oh. Right. The whole reason you were out tonight, celebrating.

Pippa’s impending marriage was certainly something to go to a club for - Paul was a good guy and he supported her and you definitely weren’t pissed off that anti-hopeless romantic Phillipa Soo was tying the knot before you were. Sure, you were excited for her and couldn’t wait to squeeze yourself into whatever unflattering maid-of-honor dress she picked for you, but there was a cloud of uncertainty looming in the distance

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PSA in dealing with blindness or the partially sighted

So those who know me know I lost my vision at 14 due to some freak immune system issues (I’ve talked about it on here) but that I still function. In fact, if I didn’t tell you I had a giant hole where your face is, you’d never know it, but I do. Because I have one foot in the world of the sight, having been extremely visual as a person, and one world in that of the visually impaired because of the extreme flux in my visual acuity, I feel like I can give you some useful tips, if you ever need to help a visually impaired person, or someone who is completely blind.

1. Don’t just help.

This is the biggest fucking issue. The fact is if I’m using my cane, I’m looking for things on the ground that are landmarks to my location. Which means if you suddenly open the door for me without saying anything and my cane can’t find it, I become extremely disoriented. ALWAYS GIVE AN AUDITORY CLUE THAT YOU ARE ASSISTING.

This includes you well-meaning but completely idiotic people who stop at intersections and then wave the blind pedestrian on. You know who you are. I don’t know, obviously, because I can’t see you, but the people that I’m usually nearby often point this out to me.

2. It’s okay to ask if the person needs assistance.

We may be frustrated but it has nothing to do with you. You won’t hurt our feelings. We don’t like NEEDING help, but that doesn’t mean we don’t need it. Just say “Excuse me, can I help?” But only if it seems a person is lost or confused.

3. Don’t shout at us.

We’re blind. Not deaf. And usually our hearing is our predominant sense. You’ll figuratively blind us by shouting.

4. If a blind person is about to step into something physically dangerous, shout “STOP” with commanding authority. And then be apologetic and humorous afterward. It’s how our cane training is done and so we learn to respond to it.

5. NEVER GRAB A BLIND PERSON.

Offer them your elbow with a verbal cue like “Here’s my arm on your left, if you need it.” The blind person has to govern their own equilibrium, which means they need the flexibility of letting go of you. If you tug them, you also pull them off balance or faster than is comfortable for them to “see” with a cane or foot.

6. Blind people don’t tap the cane for themselves.

The “tap tap” of the cane is usually used only in groups of people to alert you of their coming (though sometimes it is used the brush the cane over uneven terrain that might catch the cane and jab it into our chests). When we walk with a cane, the tip is always aligned to the opposite foot, ACROSS the body diagonally for bodily protection. We then step forward and swipe the cane to the opposite side, along the ground to accurately read the ground a few steps ahead. Tapping the cane actually can remove some of our perception of the land, but we do it for you normies, so you don’t stop dead in front of us and get your ankles bruised by a titanium rod.

7. We obey traffic patterns.

We learn these. And even if we don’t, you aren’t helping us by holding up traffic and honking at us to go ahead and cross. Actually you’re annoying us.

8. Only a small number of visually impaired people are actually COMPLETELY blind.

We are taught to optimize our sight for US. NOT YOU. So if you see a person with a cane who looks completely normal and doesn’t wear sunglasses? Guess what? They’re still partially sighted/legally blind. They’re not less deserving of attention. We wear sunglasses if our eyes are sensitive to sunlight - “photophobia”- like mine. Or we wear them to prevent the embarrassment of the wandering eye. Don’t judge a person’s capability by how they use their cane or their their eyes. Some legally blind people are only blind at night, some at day, some are blind in certain lighting conditions, some can still read with assistance and some can’t visually read at all. There is no uniformity and we optimize for us, not you. You don’t matter. So please don’t do the thing that woman on my flight to LA did and whisper to your friend that you saw me reading my (magnified and adaptive tech phone) and that you’re sure I am only playing blind to get priority boarding. Go fuck yourself with that bullshit.

9. Don’t point.

It really amazes me how many times I’ve said “what’s this?” Or “where’s that?” Only to have someone point. The fuck is wrong with you?

10. Don’t you ever dare touch a service dog unless you believe there is an immediate risk of danger.

11. Proper auditory cues.

You can’t say “it’s at 1 o'clock” for everyone, because guess what guys…not all blind people have seen clock faces! What?! OMG you’re kidding!. Instead give distances in steps, give direction in angles, give directions via landmarks not street signs. I remember one time, my friend Kirsten was asking what a person looked like, and someone said to her, “Well, they’re blond and have a heart shaped face” She said “What’s a heart shape like? And blond is yellow right? That the color of a lemon, right?”

The wrong way: “Oh it’s on Barrett street, about one hundred feet from here, at three o'clock.”

The right way: it’s about fifty paces at a right forty five degree angle from the direction you’re facing, beside a giant open park surrounded by a large metal fence. They may not be able to see the thing, but they can locate things with canes and hands, and get a feel via sound. If you know ground landmarks, like changes in paving, those are also helpful.

12. DONT HAND BLIND PEOPLE A WAD OF CHANGE, you assholes.

Hand them the change first and allow them to put it away, which they do by feel. Then hand them the bills sequentially by denominations so that they can fold and stow these bills in the way that helps them keep track of denominations. THEN hand off the receipt.

13. Don’t ask how they lost their vision.

Don’t be that guy. EVERY GUY. Jesus Christ. Some people are still dealing with the trauma from whatever it is that cost them their sight. I’m not, but I get tired of explaining it to every single fucking person I meet. Don’t say that line “Do you mind if I ask if you were born this way?” It’s none of your business. Stop treating the person like their limitation IS them. You should be helping them through their limitation so that you can GET TO THEM, and get to know the person behind it.

14. If you see a blind person traveling alone at night, and you notice someone watching or casing them, it’s okay to approach the blind person and say “I think you might be in danger. How may I help you?” And then explain the issue.

I have been followed, cased, and tracked. I realized it was happening and prevented it, with some hilarious results, but it happens. Which is why it’s ok for you to be protective of a person, it’s just not ok to be all up in their business.

15. Some blind people wear headphones or earplugs.

These aren’t a “stupid idea”. They’re actually there as a visual aid. What? Well blind people often have very sensitive hearing. Especially to high or low pitch. Many will wear earplugs or headphones to dampen or heighten certain sound values as a visual aid. I personally carry a pair with me everywhere. If I’m on a bus or train, the headphones dampen treble or higher decibels. If I’m in a noisy place like a bar or club, the plugs soften the noise, almost like wearing sunglasses in bright sun.

16. Don’t ask for Braille tutorials.

Not all of us read it. It takes a long time to learn and it’s almost entirely self taught. So if you want to learn, buy a card and get to work.

17. We memorize.

We know the layouts of rooms as instinct. Which means if I walk into a hotel, I am instantly without even thinking about it, running my hands over things, finding switches, marking strides, counting to myself, running my fingers over edges and so forth. This is how I see. So DONT MOVE SHIT. And DONT LEAVE YOUR FUCKING STUFF IN MY PATH.

18. Ray Charles was blind. Not all blind people are Ray Charles.

Stop assuming we all play music. Stop assuming that we all experience things in the same way.

19. Blind people have insomnia.

It comes from not being able to differentiate light from dark. It throws off our circadian rhythm. Meaning it can often interfere with our job, and also that we tend to become creatures of habit in order to avoid difficulty. Don’t break our habits, it throws us off.

20. Give yourself some sensitivity training.

If someone in your family or circle is blind…heck if you’re just a nice person, spend a few hours trying to do everyday tasks with your eyes shut, or put on a pair of fucked up sunglasses, or just give it a shot as you’re at work. See how long you can go before the urge to open your eyes is so powerful and overwhelming that you have to…and then imagine you don’t have a choice. That’s how it feels, every day. In every task. Be patient and kind.

There’s probably a lot more I’m forgetting. Maybe some of my blind peeps can add in?

Love, again.

Originally posted by beagletae

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 1106

Not Requested

-Admin Pastel

Loving a man who pays you to show him affection is impossible.

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Here it is!

Title: Âmes soeurs

Word Count: 2568

Chapter: One

You can also read it here!




                                                     Bill- 1982

Bill Denbrough lived 10 years of his life thinking that the world was only in black, grey, and white. He never knew that the grass was green, or the sky was blue. His parents never told him because they wanted the first time he saw colors to be special. Georgie didn’t know about colors either, and when Bill burst through the door one day with stars in his eyes he was sworn to never tell is brother.

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Mine (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: Hi guys! This is for @reidoneshots and I hope it’s not too long and it’s good enough. Anyways sorry for taking forever to post, I’ve been writing my wattpad story and I haven’t had lots of time to write on here.
Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem!receiving), unprotected sex (USE PROTECTION PEEPS), slightly dom!Spencer
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Prompt: Spencer and the reader go undercover in a casino that takes place in the episode Snake Eyes and eventually leads to smut
Request: ❌
Upcoming Imagine: Reader admits her feelings to Spencer after a long time of friendship…
-
You and your boyfriend Spencer walked into the casino, the smell of cigarettes filling your nose.
You and Spencer were assigned to catch the UnSub; Spencer was going to try to play poker with him and you were the waitress.
Rossi made a point that by putting two FBI agents on the field we will have a better chance at catching him.
You wore a red dress that hugged your curves like many of the other women in the casino while Spencer wore his casual attire.
As you both walked through security check, they stopped Spencer and he pulled out the alarm detonator.
“Halitosis.” He said holding out the pen look a like.
You had one too, but it was disguised as a lipstick.
You both walked further into the casino.
“I’ll talk to the manager you go ahead and start playing sweetheart.” You whispered into Spencer’s ear before he nodded.
You both split paths and you went to one of the waitresses.
“Can you show me your manager please?” You said inconspicuously flashing your FBI credentials.
Once you met the manager, you reassured that you were going undercover as one of the waitresses and told them about Spencer as well.
Once the manager understood, you grabbed a tray along with a few drinks sitting on top as you scanned the casino for Spencer.
Once you found him, you walked past with a smile and he nodded, flashing a hand pointing to the south of the casino.
You walked toward the south with the tray, feeling many pairs of eyes on your body as you strutted around the room.
You turned around and saw Spencer notifying a waiter, telling him that he would like to move due to the lights.
The plan was working smoothly and then you spotted him.
Your UnSub, Curtis Banks.
You approached the table, asking if anyone wanted a drink.
After a few catcalls, you handed them out before eyeing Curtis and flashing a wink.
He smirked at you as you strutted away, towards Spencer.
As you passed him, you quickly said, “Baseball cap, blue flannel.”
Spencer sat at the table, 3 seats away from the UnSub.
You picked up another drink and walked back to the same table.
“Scotch for the lucky man today.” You said setting it down next to Curtis, making him look up at you and flash a demeaning smile.
“Thanks darlin’.” He said flipping his cards revealing a four of a kind as he laughed and took all of the chips to add to his pile.
Throughout the night, you followed him, developing an acquaintance with him.
You would bring him more drinks and when he was at the craps table, you would blow on his dice for good luck.
You eyed Spencer every once in awhile and under his poker face, you could see he was flustered by all the time you were spending with Curtis.
At the end of the day, he sat with Spencer for a round of poker with a few other men.
You stood in a corner a ways away, watching as Spencer stared at Curtis, hiding the fact that he knows exactly what cards are in Curtis’ hands.
“I’m all in.” Curtis said pushing all the chips in.
Everybody flipped their cards as Spencer revealed a royal flush.
Curtis scolded as Spencer took his chips.
I noticed how he stared at Spencer, with deep hatred and anger.
I started to get worried and then Spencer eyed the little 8 ball charm that was laying out on the table.
“Do you mind if I take a look at this?” Spencer said reaching for it and immediately being stopped by Curtis’ hand on his wrist.
An officer came by asking what the problem was and Curtis lied saying Spencer was reaching for his chips, making the officer start to escort Spencer out.
Spencer clicked the pen and you immediately walked towards Curtis.
“My name is Y/N L/N I’m with the FBI I need you to come with me.” You said showing your credentials.
His eyes went from the bill fold to you before he quickly stood up, but before he could get away, you grabbed his arm and smashed his face against the table before cuffing his hands behind his back.
Once he was long gone in a police car, the rest of the team went back to the hotel and let’s just get one thing straight; Spencer was jealous.
Once the team left, he never left your side, making sure you stayed with him the whole time.
He would occasionally lay his hand on the small of your back, leading the way with just his hand.
Once you got into the hotel room, he pushed you against the closed door, keeping his face inches away from yours.
“You know… it really bugged me tonight… watching you even near another man while looking like how you do.” He said moving all of your hair to one side.
You swallowed hard, taking interest in this new side of Spencer.
“He thought you were a stray… he thought it was okay to look at you the way I do.” He said his lips grazing your neck.
His tongue darted out quickly, taking a small taste of your skin.
“Who do you belong to?” He asked looking back into your eyes.
“You.” You whispered grazing your fingers across his lips.
“That’s right. All of this,” he said as his hands mapped over your body, “belongs to me.”
You shuddered under his touch, clenching your legs together as your center begged for friction.
“Baby do I need to take care of that?” He asked, noticing your moving legs.
“Mhm.” You whimpered. “I need you to show me I’m yours.” You said.
He smirked and placed his lips to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
His hands found yours and pinned them above your head, making you groan into his mouth.
“You look so beautiful in this dress,” He said breaking away as he dropped to his knees, “but it has to go.” He said unzipping it, letting it pool at your feet.
He tapped the inside of your thighs, making you spread your legs out a little as you stood in your lingerie you decided to wear earlier.
“Mmm so wet already… I’ve barely touched you.” He said blowing on your clothed sex, making you cry out his name.
“Sensitive too?” He said proudly.
He slowly pulled your panties down and immediately started to lap at your aching core.
Your hands went to his hair and gripped tightly as his tongue worked at your folds.
“Sp-Spencer… your so good with your mouth.” You gasped.
He lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he pinned your hips to the door.
One of his hands came to play with your clit, as his mouth lapped and sucked.
“Baby… I’m so close.” You said able to grind your hips towards his mouth with only one hand holding your hips.
His eyes looked up and met yours, the sight itself making you climax.
You shook against the wall as your thighs clenched.
Spencer lapped up everything you provided, leaving no trace of the naughty act behind.
He stood up and picked you up before lying you on the bed after discarding your bra.
He quickly undressed when you thought it was over.
Your eyes locked on his hard erection that was now free from his boxers.
He held both of your hands above your head as he quickly pushed into you, making you let out a loud moan.
He thrusted hard in and out of you as he whispered ‘mine’.
He held both of your wrists in one hand as his other played with your nipple, pinching and twisting as he pounded into you.
He groaned as your walls started to clench around him, triggering your second orgasm.
“So… tight.” He muttered as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
You yelled his name as his tip repeatedly smashed into your g-spot, driving you over the edge.
As you rode your climax out, he followed close behind, the feeling of you squeezing around him making him moan your name as he came.
He collapsed next to you before pulling your jelly like body next to his.
“Are you okay?” He asked holding you closer to his body.
“Yeah… that was… amazing. I need to make you jealous more often.” You said teasingly, earning an uneasy look from Spencer.
“I’m kidding Spence, I’m yours and I always will be. You made that clear about 5 minutes ago.” You said turning to face and hug him.
He giggled softly before playing with your hair and whispering how much he loves you as you were clearly reminded that you were his.

BabyDaddy!Cal Pt.13

A/N: Helloooo. Writing this chapter was a breeze, plus I wrote the next chapter ages ago so the quicker you get this to 100, the sooner you can get it. Chapter 14 is wild, it’s a whole lot of drama that goes down(what a lot of you have been waiting for). Anyway, as always get to 100 notes and feedback is welcome. I hope you cuties enjoy💕

This is kinda long, but I know y'all don’t mind.

**WARNINGS**: Smut since its highly requested lol


Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve,thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty{END}


“Mom is throwing you a baby shower.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, she’s really excited.” Calum would laugh, remembering how his mother had been excitedly rambling nonstop about hosting a baby shower in her home.

“Your mom’s so sweet, I love her. ”

“She’s loves you more than me. I don’t know why, you’re pretty awful.”

You’d smack your lips as you said,“Whatever.”

“Do I take this left?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be the complex on the right.”

With being seven months pregnant, Calum had decided that now would be the best time for you to go apartment hunting. You had been searching for nearly two weeks and although you were satisfied with nearly every complex Calum always had something that he didn’t deem “perfect” enough for you. The view wasn’t pretty enough, the rooms were too small, there wasn’t enough kitchen space, the downstairs gym wasn’t big enough. Out of all seven of the complexes, none of them were just right for the three of you.

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rebeccaish  asked:

Hey, this is a question I've had for a while, but have never known anyone to ask. All denominations of dollar bills are the same size in America. How does a person who is blind tell them apart from one another? Do they just have to trust the sales clerk, or do they just avoid using bills?

Ah! Speaking of money, lol…

That’s a great question. So when dealing with regular paper bills, most blind people will carry some sort of money identification tool with them, whether an app on a smart phone or this tiny little Device specifically designed to read money, totally free from the Bureau of engraving. Smart phone apps use the camera to identify the bill for you, and the small device from the Bureau of engraving is like a tiny rectangular scanner that knows how to read bills and nothing else. It is very small, and it has a small slip where you insert just the end of a bill and press the little button on the side, and it will say the number of the bill denomination. Both methods are very handy, though I especially prefer the money reader from the Bureau of engraving because it doesn’t require lighting conditions or for the bill to be laid flat on an otherwise blank surface and with the entire bill in view like some apps do, and some apps have difficulty with a bill depending on whether it is seeing the back versus the front or whether it is upside down, where as the money reader can read any end of the bill and you don’t have to know what side it’s on.

Though, it’s also important to organize your bills once you read what is what, so a lot of blind people will use different folding methods for different bill denominations. For instance, in my particular wallet, I leave my ones totally unfolded and stretched out in the long pouch, my fives folded in half “hamburger” style once, my 20s first folded hamburger style like a five and then folded in half again, my tens folded “hot dog” style first and then folded in half again, etc. etc. Everybody does it a little bit differently. Some people will also just use different pouches in their wallet for different bills, depending on the kind of wallet they have and if that method works for them.

But yeah no, I definitely don’t trust the cashier to just give me the right thing. Most people would never try that, but some people do, but rest a sure the blind can check their money.

Everyone is a moon

Summary: Betty baits Jughead into going full dark, no stars. Real dark. Real kinky. Real consensual. You’ve been warned. (Part 3 of The Beast Within)

A/N: As with all the fics in this series, Jughead is v. dark and creepy. Only here, Betty’s the one to draw it out of him. I want to put a warning label as long as my arm on this thing, but I trust you all to know that this is fiction and not to judge me. Don’t read if you’re at all squicked out by violent sex or BDSM.

Y’all I edited this on the plane yesterday and my heart was pounding so hard the whole time, afraid someone could read my computer screen.

And most importantly, happiest of birthdays @jandjsalmon. I would not be here, and this dark Juggie would not exist, if not for you. Hopefully this fic doesn’t go too far.

ao3–> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11840985

kinky smut below the jump


“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”—Mark Twain


Betty leans over the pool table, scissoring her legs to give her the leverage to hit the ball on the far side. It doesn’t help that she’s got a leather skirt the size of a band aid covering her ass. She scratches.

The large tattooed man she’s playing with — Gator — gives her a condescending smile before smoothly sinking his last ball. She hasn’t seen him before tonight. Probably a trucker passing through. They come in sometimes. But a Serpent wouldn’t do for her plan to work.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Why won’t you take this twenty and go get us another round of drinks while I re-rack.” He holds the folded bill between his index and middle fingers, making her come up close to him to reach it. His eyes slide down to her cleavage, on full display in the sleeveless blue button-up she’s tied just above her belly button.

“My pleasure.” She smirks at him, pressing her shoulders back as she turns.

As she crosses the room to the bar, she feels the eyes of the Serpents on her. Not the way they usually are, quick glances that bounce off of her like snowflakes, as if they’re afraid Jughead will catch them looking. He’d lost control once and now the guys give him a wide berth. The Serpent Prince had earned his name.

But Jughead’s not here now. Some use it as an excuse to drink her in, staring until she has to steel herself not to flinch under their eyes. Others look concerned, worried for the peppy blonde girl, so clearly out of her depth in a biker bar. Still others’ stares are hard and accusatory. Reminding her that they’ve never trusted her, daring her to get herself into trouble without Jughead here to bail her out.

That’s what she’s waiting for. For Jughead to catch her. He should have been here half an hour ago.


After the Chuck incident, she tried to put a lid on Dark Betty. But the more she tried to confine her, the better she got at escaping.

That is, until one day she found Jughead’s journals. With FP still in jail awaiting trial, the trailer became their safe space, their sanctuary. Every afternoon she could get away, every weekend day her mother would spare, Betty would rush to the trailer, and Jughead would be there waiting. Sometimes they just did homework, or watched TV, or talked. Passing their burdens back and forth. Often she would cook for him, and they would pretend they were somewhere far away, spinning castles in the air, dreaming of a new life. But they were still teenagers, hormones and all. In that trailer, Betty learned how to please him. And she learned how she liked to be touched.

On a cold afternoon in early November, Betty laid on Jughead’s childhood bed, watching his hands run all over her, watching him memorize her body.

Watching him shoot nervous glances toward the bookshelf beside his bed. She craned her neck to see what he was looking at.

It was a little dark blue journal, much like her own pink one, with the corner of a photo peaking out between its pages. She leaned up and grabbed it before he could stop her.

The photo was of her. Of her sleeping. And it had been taken by someone inside her bedroom. She lay splayed on her stomach, the blankets pulled down to her calves. Betty could see the curve of one of her ass cheeks peaking out of the cheer shorts she slept in. She normally put her hair in a messy bun before bed, but in the photo someone had pulled it down and fanned it across her pillow.

She remembered that night, a few weeks prior—she tried not to sleep in her cheer shorts, always wanted to wash off the sweat from practice before bed. But that night Cheryl had kept them late and she was so tired by the time she got home, ate dinner, finished her homework, that she’d crashed. And then she’d been so confused when she woke in the morning and her hair tie was on the nightstand beside her.

She should have felt repulsed. She should have felt scared. Her sweet, gentle, caring boyfriend was sneaking into her bedroom at night to manipulate her body like a doll and take her picture.

Instead, she felt excited. She glanced up at Jughead. He looked trapped, like she’d backed him into a corner. His eyes kept flicking from her face to the door.

“Turnabout’s fair play, right? I mean, you read mine.” He swallowed and nodded. She reached out to grab his hand with one of her own and eagerly turned the pages. Eventually, she got so absorbed, she drew her hand back so she could flip through his entries more quickly.

This journal was relatively new—the first entry dated from July. He talked of his lonely summer without her, and without Archie. Of going days only talking to Pop and to himself in his writing. He wrote of his anger, of something within his chest he struggled to control. He wrote of stalking her. Of breaking into her room when she was there and when she wasn’t. Of the things he secretly longed to do to her.

As she read, Betty felt a weight lifting off of her. Jughead knew some of her darkness. She thought she knew all of his. She was wrong.

He had curled in on himself while she scanned the pages, his elbows resting on his thighs. He chewed on the corner of his thumbnail and avoided all her attempts to catch his eyes.

So she placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back until she could swing a leg on either side of his hips. She kissed him with a hunger she hadn’t realized she’d been repressing.


That was the day she discovered how to control Dark Betty. Or, rather, that Jughead could control Dark Betty. A regular diet of Jughead’s obsession and his depredation and the fugue states stopped. Her anger stayed in its box and her nails stayed out of her palms.

But Dark Betty escaped today. Betty remembers why she’s here, remembers the process of getting ready and driving here, the steps she laid out ahead of time. She just doesn’t remember making the decision to come. Or the decision to delete the draft of Jughead’s novel off his laptop.

They work because their darkness balances. Like the controlled release of a bomb. But Jughead has been slacking on his responsibilities. Apparently, Dark Betty had decided to remind him. They’d both been so busy lately, Jughead hadn’t had time for anything more than a quick fuck late at night before they both fell into bed, exhausted. And she needed him. She couldn’t control the darkness inside herself without him. She thought they had that in common, that they were equals in that way.

She’s worried that maybe now he wants them to be normal. Well, she was trying to be normal for him. Dark Betty wouldn’t let her.


When she returns with the beers, she watches him take a long pull out of his as she places hers on the windowsill behind her.

“So what brings you to Riverdale,” she swallows, “Gator?”

“Doin’ a long haul job, Orlando to Montreal. Gotta get them oranges up to the Canucks.” He smiles, and she can see a silver cap on one of his molars.

They play another game, during which he grows increasingly bold. He offers to help her correct her stance, the way she holds her stick, and when he passes behind her, his hand grazes her ass. He smells like stale beer and unshowered male. Both odors, she surmises, are accurate.

“What do you say we take a break? Maybe grab a drink and get to know each other a little better?”

Betty’s heart sinks into her stomach. The clock’s run out and Jughead didn’t show. But she tries to smile, tries to seem like nothing’s wrong. “Sure. Why don’t you find a table while I run to the ladies’ room?”

She grabs her purse and makes a beeline for the dark hallway behind the bar. She swallows the tears that threaten and gets ready to call Jughead and tell him what she did.

As she passes a doorway, someone grabs her wrist and yanks her inside. Whoever it is presses her face against the door and twists her arm up behind her back until she winces. A blanket of fear alights on her stomach. Maybe she went too far. Maybe one of the Serpents…

When he speaks, every bone inside her melts. “Sometimes I think you have a death wish.”

“Juggie?”

His voice is rough in her ear and it send shivers down her spine. “I’ve been watching you. You were so distracted by your new boy toy, you didn’t even notice me across the bar when you got that drink. Tut tut.” He lets go of her and she turns around.

“You’ve been here that long? And you waited?” Before she knows what she’s doing, she slaps him. “You sick fuck.”

He smiles but it’s foreign on his face. Not the way he usually looks at her. Lethal. “That was a mistake, little girl.”

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teluete  asked:

Jack/Holster, “why do i even bother?” :D

big ol’ thank you to @chocolatechipcookiesplease for listening while i hashed out this verse and for the cutest suggestion in the world.

Adam might be a morning person - he’s a farmer, it comes with the territory - but his partner is not. Jack, inexplicably, is neither a morning person nor a night owl. Instead of thriving at a certain period of time, he just requires at least seven, preferably seven and a half, hours of sleep. His body usually doesn’t allow him to get more than that and if he gets less he’s impossible to wake without becoming irritable and grouchy.

The second Adam opens his eyes, he knows what kind of a day it’s going to be. He’s laying on his side, Jack’s arm draped over his waist. Jack’s pressed close, tucked up against Adam’s back, and when Adam shifts to turn off his alarm Jack doesn’t move at all. His breathing is even against the back of Adam’s neck, and there’s no harm in giving him another few minutes before they have to get up.

Adam reaches for his phone, content to scroll through trade speculations (there are rumors that Chris Chow might end up with the Falconers) or stream an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine before waking the beast, but after he unlocks it with sleep-stupid fingers and adjusts the brightness, the page refuses to load. Adam stares at the blank, still-too-bright screen for a long moment, then drops the phone with a groan. There’s no service and the wifi’s out, leaving them technologically stranded in the wilderness. Sure, there’s the landline Jack insists on keeping, but Adam can’t watch 30 Rock through a Stone Age artifact, can he? They have to upgrade to a better plan. Adam can’t live like this - he won’t live like this.

Annoyed, Adam picks up Jack’s arm by the wrist and tosses it behind him, letting it flop onto the mattress. He’s already sitting up by the time Jack reacts, burrowing into the pillows and wrapping his arm around Adam’s waist as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Nope,” Adam says, voice deeper than usual from a night of disuse. He removes Jack’s arm again, this time gently setting it on the bed. “I’m mad at you.” How did he manage to fall for someone who thinks the Internet is an optional amenity? Blasphemer.

“Oh, okay.” Jack mumbles, accepting the news easily. He rolls over, taking the blankets with him. Double blasphemer. Adam stares at the back of his head until his breathing evens out again, smiling softly despite his annoyance. Ugh, love. He pulls the blankets up over Jack’s shoulder and stands, stretching before beginning the day.

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Essays in Existentialism, Colors

could you write a the-world-is-colorless-until-you-meet-your-soulmate-au?

“I need glasses,” Lexa called over her shoulder as her barback scooted behind her. 

“Again?” Lincoln sighed, surveying the bar. 

“Duh.” 

The crowd ebbed and crashed against the counter, hands shooting out for drinks, crisp bills folded long and waving. The bar was dark despite the bright lights attempting to make it a little more manageable. Lexa barely looked up in the rush, hearing orders, grabbing cash, and moving as deftly as she could. 

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That Faithful Day|| Bill Denbrough x Reader

A/n: Happy Birthday by the way 🎊🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉👌 have a great birthday! 🎂


@trashyemonerd

-


Y/n sat in her porch, the wind peacefully swirled in the atmosphere like a solemn melody.


She gazed up and saw her friends goofing around with eachother with bright smiles.

It was Y/n’s birthday. Her first birthday in

Derry and her coulpe of friends forgot.


You know how sad that can make someone.

“Y/n! Come on! Eddie’s about to cartwheel down the hill!” Richie exclaimed.


Eddie rolled his eyes, but he chuckled in a soft and delighted manner.


“Nah, I’m good. I’ll just, chill here, I guess.” Bev saw the solemnly deep expression Y/n held.


“Are you sure?” She asked, Y/n nodded softly.


“Hm-alright! Let’s go!” Richie didn’t even think twice as he sped down the streets of Derry, maybe to head towards the barrens so Eddie would do his ‘cartwheel’.

As if he knew how to do one.


Beverley, Mike, Stanley and Ben both tailed along side with Eddie as he followed Richie’s receding form in the distance. The started a warm conversation with eachother as they laughed up a storm and walked down the rode.


“You s-s-sseem, ups-set.” Y/n heard Bill’s stuttering voice prowl behind her. Y/n looked over her shoulder and saw Bill sitting down on the wooden porch. The wood groaned under Bill’s and Y/n’s form.


“Do I?” Y/n mumbled. She didn’t want to just blurt out and say:

“Uh- well duh! It’s my birthday!”


She didn’t want to feel too needy seeing that she just joined the name that everyone knew to grow and love (for them that is) The Losers’ Club. Seeing everyone knew Y/n for a year and ever since she moved to Derry and she met the star of them all, Pennywise.

She was an official member of the group.


“Hey, I-I can make you one p-paper boat, G-Georgie loves playing with i-it when he’s u-upset.” Bill injected. He stood up as he extended his sweaty palm towards Y/n for her to grip.

Y/n looked at Bill’s hand. He always had a way for her to smile. She smiled warmly at the idea and stood up as she took Bill’s hand.


-

“Alright. Now, you wanna fold the b-bottom-” Bill said as he stood behind Y/n as she sat in the wooden chair, Bill’s arms were on either side of her, Y/n followed his said instructions and folded the bottom of the paper. But the creases got in the way, making the end of the paper boat tear.


“What the hell! I want another paper!” Y/n complained as she flicked the paper boat away and crossed her arms. Bill clenched his jaw nervously.


“N-no wait, you almost had it. It’s perfect. T-try again Y-Y/n,” Bill said. He placed his index finger on the paper boat and slid it to her.


“Teach me how then.”


“I am-”


“Bill, please, this is too complex for me. It may be easy for you, but not to me.” Bill didn’t reply back. He grabbed Y/n’s hand and led it to the paper. He creased it for her and then flipped the paper. He creased it once again and Y/n saw purple letters bright enough to catch anyone’s eyes.

Y/n was taken back as she read it.


“Happy Birthday <3 -from the losers”

Y/n saw everyone sign their name on paper boat. How did she not notice this?


Y/n felt her heart ache as she grabbed the now finished paper boat. Bill’s hands slowly slid up Y/n’s arms and onto her shoulders.


“Do you l-like it?” Bill asked. Y/n quickly turned around and hugged Bill.


“I thought you guys forgot!” Y/n cried out as the now tears of joy ran down her face.

Bill wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist and burried his face in the crook of her neck.


“Happy birthday n/n.” He whispered.


“Can you guys kiss already?!” Y/n opened her eyes. She saw Richie and the gang hanging in Bill’s corridor.


“Thank you guys. At first I thought you guys actually forgot my birthday.” Y/n said.


“You’re our new member! We’ll never forget!” Ben laughed out. Mike nodded in agreement.


“Oh! We have a surprise. Come outside.” Eddie said, Everyone walked down the hallway. Bill grabbed his jacket and grabbed Y/n’s hand. The tailed along with the gang.


Outside everyone rounded the back of Bill’s backyard.

Balloons and confetti decorated. Y/n was amazed as some kids come from school was gathered back.


“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” They yelled out. Y/n was surprised she didn’t have enough time to react quick enough as Bill wrapped his hand around Y/n’s waist and his lips so happened to land on hers. A quick light flashed.


A camera.


Bill pulled away. Y/n was in shock. Her heartbeat couldnt even keep up. And that was impossible.


“They love eachother, boom. You guys took to long!” Richie said as he slapped his hands on Y/n’s shoulders.

“Look at these decorations you know who did them?” He asked as he then pushed uo his glasses.


“Uh, you?” Y/n questioned. Bill slowly scratched the back of his head.


“Nope! That thing!” Richie pointed straight ahead. Y/n quickly looked over and saw IT itself. He held many expressions. Hunger, anger and regret.


“I’m only here because he said I can eat his sister.” Pennywise blankly stated.


“No, I said you can eat the cake. Nice try though, Pennyfuck.” Richie glared at the clown. Pennywise narrowed his eyes.


“Now do what normal party clowns do and scare some kids–o o p s-” Pennywise grinned as he slowly backed away over to a crowd of hids by the snack table.

“Wait!” Richie ran after the clown, but Y/n could already hear screaming.


“Y/n you better enjoy this party. I went through hell to get this clown here to make the decorations look just right!” Richie yelled over to Y/n as he had his hands on Pennywise’s torso.


Y/n laughed a little too hard. Bill looked at Y/n and walked over to her.“Thanks for everything Bill.”

“No problem, Y/n.” He smiled and held her hand.

[Ace attorney Dou] The paper crane (NaruMitsu)

A short doujinshi inspired by a scene in case 3-5 (Trials and tribulations - Bridge to the Turnabout).
“It was about more than 10 years ago when both Miles and Nick are still kids. Miles tried to fold a paper crane but he wasn’t good at it (actually he can’t even fold a dollar bill). Everyone tried to comfort him, but he would just sit there sobbing…
Then there came our Nick…”

Thanks for reading~