from large to small

anonymous asked:

Jim looked Dark in the eyes. His own pupils went from small to large as he suddenly kissed Dark on the lips. He then hopped off of Dark and ran away. "I got it Jim!!! I got his Powers!! I am the ultimate Jim!!" He yelled, his camera man trying to follow after him.

Dark just stood there, stunned. Then, he wiped his mouth and spat onto the ground, eyed rolling an annoyance.

“I hate people.“

writing an autistic character when you are not autistic - a masterpost

completely double spaced version on google docs here – this post is more blocky for the sake of people’s dashboards, but still long so people will be less likely to glaze over it. my apologies if that makes it hard to read

things to look for and avoid in an autistic character

• symptoms only manifesting as “nonverbal and rocking”
• super smart / living calculator
• super dumb / doesn’t understand anything
• all the symptoms you can come up with for them are “awkward” and “has special interest(s)” (please do more research)
• trains, technology, and/or math as special interests
• acting like a child
• getting treated like a baby
• unreasonably cruel and uncaring about others’ reactions to them being cruel
• if they’re comparable to sheldon from the big bang theory, start over
• animal comparisons
• a lack of feelings
• please no stories about what it’s like to be autistic told by allistics

the right way to write an autistic person

• lots of symptoms, including secondary ones not included on a general diagnosis requirement list (here’s a list i rather like that was made by an autistic person – their blog is also a good resource)
• having a good amount of general knowledge and actually talking about it (i cannot believe that i have to say this)
• talking about things outside of special interests (again…. come on……….) (special interests are usually the default things our brains go to when theres no stimulation or we want to entertain ourselves – it isn’t literally all we think or talk about ever. if a conversation has no connections to a special interest, reconsider having your autistic character bring it up in a context that is not an introduction.)
• explicitly expressed to be capable of attraction and romantic feelings – if your character is an adult, add sexual feelings to this point
• capable of general functioning, just with a disability that makes it more difficult – not a walking disability (….sigh)
• a wide amount of feelings and emotional turmoil (but perhaps only being able to express it in limited ways)
• we’re people
• just people whose brains are wired differently

things to avoid in research for an autistic character

• autism moms / autism blogs and websites not run by autistic people
• any affiliation with autism $peaks means you should walk away and never look back
• a scientist trying to create explanations for what autistic people do without actually asking / not mentioning asking autistic people
• anything about a cure for autism
• a person that “worked with autistic kids” phrased in the same way as “worked with animals”
• talking about autistic people as if they are mysteries, are like animals, or are otherwise othered weirdos instead of people

things to look for in research for an autistic character

• actual autistic people talking about their experiences and symptoms
• just stick to that and you’re good but it’s hard to find sometimes ngl. just look for the above red flags

things i would personally like to see in an autistic character

• less easy to swallow sadness and more destructive anger. i would love to see a canonically autistic character who was frustrated easily by small things and had trouble communicating why
• not a story about being autistic, a story that happens to have a character or characters who are autistic – it isn’t pointed out or questioned, they’re right at home with the rest of the cast and not othered (a la symmetra from overwatch)
• intensive sensory issues / small sounds making large reactions
• clear communications about not liking x sensory thing (for example being touched)
• poor motor skills / clumsiness and not being laughed at for it
• walking funny (body bent downwards, walking very fast, walking slowly, big strides, shuffling, stiffness, etc)  – no one treats it as if it’s funny or something totally strange
• a big personality that has a presence so they can’t be cast aside (but feel free to have quiet characters too) – if this was along with being nonverbal they would probably leap to being one of my favorite characters ever
• a fear of asking for clarification on sarcasm or jokes because of past experiences and an arc about the character becoming more comfortable asking questions

>> if any fellow autistic people want to add something, feel free <<

allistics are encouraged to rb this

Angels walk among us. With crooked halos and shattered wings, they walk among us and try to remember what it felt like to be holy. Stretching out their arms and reminding themselves of what it felt like to soar.


Gods walk among us. Trapped inside too small bodies with nothing but the memories of when they were everything, and dream of the worlds and empires they helped forge. Their hands had once built galaxies, but now seemed so small.


Aliens walk among us. From far away worlds and twinkling stars, they carry on and wonder how they had gotten so far from home. One day they know they’ll traverse this galaxy once again, but until then they must make do with Earth.


Fae walk among us. Who try to remember their people, their customs, their dances, in a world that is convinced that they are children’s tales, and no more. Desperately trying to become themselves again, wondering if it was all simply a prank gone wrong, or something worse.


Forests walk among us. Those who remember their trees, their plants, the animals they kept safe under their canopy. Now they can only hope their small friends stay safe, until they can take care of them all again.


Animals walk among us. Wondering why they were stuck on two legs with none of their fur or feathers, scales or shells. Questioning why their voices suddenly are so wrong, so different from the cries they used to make. Surrounding themselves with whatever they can that reminds them of their home.


Ghosts walk among us. Clothed in flowing white and shadowy blues, wandering through areas that used to be solely theirs. They can no longer phase or float, but they make do. They have to.


Dragons walk among us. On feet without the claws they remember, and with heads held high despite the missing horns and fangs. They clamber forwards, rebuilding their hoard with every step of the way.


Dolls walk among us. Those with faded felt and chipped ceramics alike wondering why they were suddenly flesh. Looking over themselves and realizing their bodies were suddenly softer then they ever were, more sturdy then they ever were.


Galaxies walk among us. Made of star stuff and moonshine, infinitely growing forces trapped in too small bodies. Remembering what it felt like to span light years and wondering who had managed to trap supernovas into flesh and blood.


Monsters walk among us. In every shape and size; they walk; slither; crawl; and remember the days they were feared, and wonder if they really want that back. If they would want it back after finally being treated as a living creature with as much right to exist as anyone else.


Betrayers walk among us. With guilt-ridden hearts and regretful eyes. Who reassure themselves that it was the right thing to do, not quite sure if they believe themselves.


Saviors walk among us. With a shine in their eyes and smiles on their lips, reassuring all they come across that one day the sun will shine and all with be right once again.


Rebels walk among us. Causes long ago forgotten, but with fires still raging in their hearts. Challenging anything and everything. Unrest and revolutions follow them wherever they tread. Chaos and freedom, mixed together.


Survivors walk among us. Soldiers with nothing left to fear, who have instincts as their guide and luck on their side. Walking forward unafraid, because they’ve done this all before.


Immortals walk among us. Souls laden with sorrow, heartbreak slipping through their eyes. They know by now not to get close, but do so anyways because its the only thing that makes them feel anymore.


Soldiers walk among us. Hands itching for weapons they no longer have, tense with instincts they no longer need. Wondering why their body is so unmarred and unbroken. They had always done their best, but now they no longer knew if that was good enough. If it ever was good enough.


Children walk among us. Lost and afraid, they march forward, with the weights of a thousand impossibilities on their shoulders. These children are forgotten, and they would prefer to stay that way.


Cursed-folk walk among us. With cautious eyes and doubtful tones, who know that the world is against them now more than ever. Everything comes with a price, and they wonder if their price was truly worth it.


Mages walk among us. Hands of their magical tools of choice, ready to pull them out if necessary to defend or attack. Scared because this was the land their ancestors were killed in. Courageous because they continue forwards anyways.


Travelers walk among us. Those who took a wrong turn and found themselves in a world that isn’t theirs, hoping to one day find the way back. Strength rings through them, for they know they cannot- will not -stop until they reach their home.


Chosen Ones walk among us. Remembering what it felt like to be The One, The Savior, The Last Hope of their worlds- and wondering why that responsibility was ever thrust on them in the first place. Wondering why they had been abandoned back in their old world after fighting so hard for the one they had made their home.


Spirits walk among us. Spirits who see others like them in the corner of their eyes. Spirits who meet up in quiet secret places and remember, together, what it felt like to be themselves. Reassuring each other that one day they will all go Home.


Unicorns walk among us. Even with their horns no longer there, there is no doubt magic runs through them. They are blessed creatures, and they know it. Stars and sunlight glisten in their eyes, and every step plants flowers. 


Demons walk among us. Still feeling the darkness in their blood, and the calls of others like them. Hell fire and brimstone smells dance on the breeze, luring them away. Luring them back home.


Dire Wolves walk among us. Even without their pack, they are fierce. Every step a calculation, every move planned.The hunt is on, and it looks like you are the prey. Get ready to run.


Dinosaurs walk among us. Long gone though they are, the continue forward. With pasts surrounded by mystery and unknowing. They are a varied folk, from carnivores to herbivores and everything in between. Large and small alike they fight on.


Winged Ones walk among us. Backs aching from wings they don’t have- limbs they haven’t had in a long time. The sky calls to them, begging them to come home, but they cannot reply. Stuck on the ground, staring hopefully up at the sky- one day they might go home, but not yet, not today.


Glitches walk among us. Scratches on the disk of reality, blips in the world. Tilt your head, look at them from a wrong angle- they might just be lens flares, might just be tricks of the imagination. The world warps around a being that is not there, that shouldn’t be there.


Hellhounds walk among us. Hellfire sprouts from their paths, infernos blaze just under their skin. Embers burn their paws, soot stains their fur. Wildness stirs in their hearts, urges them forward. Feral creatures, born from fire and darkness.


Vampires walk among us. Fangs stained red with blood that is not theirs. Pale as untouched snow, with hearts as dark as the night they rule. Voids twist around them, cloaking them in their shadows. Look out for too sharp grins at midnight, watch your steps.


Elements walk among us. Raging winds, blazing flames, crushing earth, and surging waters rush together. Combining to make impossible possibilities, incredible worlds, exploding worlds. Elements that made up entire worlds now spinned into bones.


The Undead walk among us. Shuffling and stuttering, wondering if this makes them undead undead. Flesh now whole and bones unbroken, feeling their heartbeat course through their veins once again, feeling the air filling their lungs once again. 


Werefolk walk among us. Bodies no longer shifting as they once did, permanently stuck on their two legs, for better or for worse. From all walks of life, they shifted into anything and everything. They do what they can to remind themselves of what if had felt like to themselves again.


Starseeds walk among us. Those that have lived only a few lives and those that have lived hundreds walking together. Taking the same steps they’ve taken who knows how many times before. Memories trickle back to them, small ones and big ones alike replaying in their minds. Doing their best to remember their mission and goals.


Mermaids walk among us. Although, maybe walk would be the wrong word. Figuring out how to walk on separate limbs that used to be one. Feeling most at home when submerged in water, sometimes forgetting their new bodies need oxygen. Strong arms and new legs propelling them through water, making them relearn a skill that they’d known since birth.


Death Omens walk among us. Afraid if their mere presence curses everyone around them. Keeping to themselves, just in case. Wondering how much of their past life carries on to their new life. Afraid that their mere touch could end lives, wondering if its their fault every time catastrophe hits.


Psychopomps walk among us. Remembering their jobs, remembering their duty. Even when they hated it, they remember what that must do. Both an impartial guide and a guardian protector. It was not their job to judge, simply to provide a safe passage from here to whatever lies beyond. Smiling in the face of death, knowing that they are not here for them.


Shadows walk among us. Twisting and shifting, not solid forms but far from intangible. They are everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching on to every act, recording passively that actions of others, while also defending those in need, actively stepping out to protect. They are the night and the stars, and yet also the shifting woods and deadly blades that flash in the shade. They are, and they aren’t.


Prisoners walk among us. Remembering shackles and chains holding them back, holding them down. Forced in cages and cells, forced to repent. But now- now they are free. They are free to walk and speak and run. Every part of their soul sings. Shackles now rusted off, chains now broken- they have no intentions of ever putting them back on.


Robots walk among us. Rusty joints and electricity running through them. Mechanical men, made to work with no need for sustenance. Inorganic beings with artificial intelligence, making themselves better, making themselves evolve. Their jobs are not yet done.


Mountains walk among us. Their strength and fortitude transformed into movable flesh and feeble bones. Eons of near unending life taken away and replaced with a life of hardly a century. Where once they were feared and respected, they are now hardly ever seen.


Winter Sprites walk among us. Ice on their fingers, frost in their hair. Snow falls over their trail, painting the frozen landscape a chilling white. A shiver trails up your spine when they pass, followed by a freezing breeze- winter spirits in their element can freeze the world over, if one could be bothered to do so.


Seers walk among us. They watch, wide eyed and humbled, at the creatures who walk around them. Wings and horns and twisted bits, wandering through crowded streets. Their oddities, invisible to most, show bright and clear to the perceptive eyes of those who watch.



(want me to add one? Leave a reply and I’ll add it to the original)

I don’t necessarily mean that I was sad, but it’s an emotional moment for the character so I felt what he was feeling. For the real last day at work Dan and David weren’t there but [co-executive producer] Bryan Cogman called people in and said a few words and my son was there with me. That was quite something. And I got my mockingbird pin. I had already let them know I wanted it, and I cleverly worked it so I got two. There’s one from my cloak and one from my tunic. So I got the large and the small size — one for me and one for my son.
—  Aidan Gillen on his last day on set (x)

did you love this sticker pack but wish that maybe they didn’t say such weird shit? well I have some excellent news!

BOOM guess what! two new sticker packs for you!

This time with extra frogs! 
These two packs contain all the pastel frogs I’ve made so far, but this time with no captions. thats so many friends!

Silent Pastel Friends

Silent Rainbow Friends

you can also buy the original pack here.
All packs come in four sizes from small to extra large, and all of these dudes come on apparel and other merch along with a whole bunch of other artwork over on the rest of my redbubble store!

Dungeon Design: Guiding Player Movement Part I

This is a guide to influencing your players to go where you want them to go. It’s like railroading, but more calculated and nearly invisible during a game. Here in Part 1 I am talking about purely visual properties and composition of a dungeon map. Throughout this post I am using a map from a previous dungeon my players went through. For context, it’s an ice cavern made into a lair for a clan of frost giants. Hidden somewhere within is a secret entrance to the lost tomb of a hero, which is their goal to find for this floor. Check out Part II here.


Leading the Players

Leading lines are lines that lead the players from one point of the map to another, much like in the composition of a photo or painting. Use them to less-than-subtly direct players in the direction you wish. Strong leading lines start from a large shape and end at a small shape, subconsciously simulating depth. Imagine someone pointing at a faraway object. You start at the person’s body, then arm, then finger, and finally at the direction they are pointing.

In the above image I’ve drawn out the leading lines. They are formed by the lines denoting elevated areas in the northwest room, the barrels in the northern room, the stone pillars in the eastern room, and miscellaneous objects in the southern room.

The stars on the map indicate the end goals that lead to the next level (there were two possible places in case they found one area before the other). The leading lines try to funnel players towards these goals.

Ways to create leading lines:

Actual lines: walls, barriers, elevation changes (marked by a line), floor tiling, rugs, long tables, etc.

Repeating Pattern: repeated objects that form a sequence can create a leading line.

Keep reading

Random Trinket Table

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Man, I want something useless but mildly interesting that isn’t from the trinket table in the player’s handbook!” Well, you’re in luck. Because I love random, useless trinkets and I’ve created a list for all to use. Even though there are plenty of other random trinket tables out there, you can never really have too many. Am I right or…? Anyways. Table below the cut!

Keep reading

Keith but with cat eyes

As in Lance is just tapping his fingers against the arm rest of the seat and Keith just zones it on it and his irises get ridiculously huge and Lance just moves his fingers back and forth to see them go from small to large.

And yes Keith does try to pounce and gives Lance a heart attack in the process

2

This pineapple look has been a summer staple and I encourage every fat femme to go out and get yourself one! It’s a Cowcow dress from Amazon and it runs from x-small to xxx-large. I am wearing the 3x large and I am usually a size 28/30. These dresses stretch a lot so even if you don’t think you would fit into it, get one and try anyways! It is made out of very light jersey so it’s been a blessing in the summer. 

Pineapple purse is from Torrid. (They’ve been making crossbody bags to fit fat bodies and I am so happy about it! The strap is 52 inches, I believe,)

Shoes are a size 12 from Lane Bryant!

Seattle Rains

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A new girl brings rainstorms to Riverdale, and more specifically, more rain in Jughead’s world.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,844

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t been writing requests, but this idea popped in my head and I decided to write it.  Hope you all enjoy!


He only saw her when it was raining.  Maybe it was pure coincidence, or maybe it was a sign.

The first time he met her was a rainy Monday afternoon.  It was the first day of their freshman year in Riverdale High.  Jughead continuously announced to anxiety-ridden Archie and Betty that he was not nervous at all.  He would never admit it, but there was a twinge of fear in his stomach as he walked through the doors of his new school.

The day became a blur in his memories, nothing especially memorable occurring.  Except one thing: her.

(Y/N) had just moved to Riverdale from Seattle, so her rainy first day of school in a small town helped her transition from the large city she was used to.  She sat in her last class of the day, English, when the rain began to pour even harder.  Right as the bell signaling the beginning of class rang, one last boy walked through the door.

Jughead knew that, by being late, he wouldn’t get a seat in the back of the classroom that he craved.  There was only one vacant seat left next to a girl he didn’t recognize.  He sat down next to her, slumping in his chair.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” he whispered as the teacher explained the syllabus.  (Y/N)’s head shifted to look at him out of the corner of her eye, shocked that someone had spoken to her.  She had been ignored all day.

“Yeah,” she confirmed his suspicions.  "How did you know?“

"This is a small town,” Jughead answered.  "Everyone knows everyone.“

"Right,” she muttered, turning her focus back to the teacher.  Jughead, however, continued to stare at the new girl.

“I’m Jughead,” he introduced himself.  "Jughead Jones the third.“

"The third?” (Y/N) quietly laughed.

Jughead shrugged.  "Yeah,“ he responded.  A smile grew on his face.  "It’s funny, though, because most people laugh at my name being Jughead.”

“I think it’s cool,” she complimented.  "I’m (Y/N).“

"Well, (Y/N),” Jughead said, “what’s the-”

“Mr. Jones!” their teacher suddenly interrupted their conversation.  "Ms. (Y/L/N)! Please, no talking while I’m speaking!“

Jughead and (Y/N) muttered ashamed apologies, and with a satisfied nod, the teacher turned back to the board.  Jughead shifted in his chair so that he was slightly facing (Y/N).

"I was gonna ask what’s the best burger you’ve ever eaten,” he explained quietly.  "But that’s a stupid question, because I’m gonna introduce you to a burger that’ll put every other thing you’ve ever eaten to shame.“

"Oh really?”

“Definitely,” he smirked.  "Have you ever been to Pop’s diner?“


The rain reduced to a drizzle as Jughead and (Y/N) walked from school to Pop’s.

"You’re sure you don’t need an umbrella?” Jughead asked for the hundredth time.

(Y/N) laughed, “For the last time, Jughead, I’m fine.  I’m from Seattle; I can handle a bit of rain.”

Jughead’s umbrella offers died down after that, and the two quickly arrived at Pop’s.  They entered the diner, Jughead leading her towards his favorite booth. He sent subtle waves towards all the beaming waitresses who greeted him.

“Someone’s popular,” (Y/N) commented as she and Jughead sat down across from each other.

“I come here quite often,” he shrugged.  

A waitress approached the table and asked for their orders.  Immediately, before (Y/N) could even open her mouth, Jughead ordered two cheeseburgers.  About ten minutes later, the same waitress carried out two baskets.  She set one in front of both Jughead and (Y/N).  Jughead watched as (Y/N) picked up her burger.

“Are you gonna eat yours?” she asked before she took her first bite.

Jughead shook his head. “Not until I see your reaction,” he said, biting back a smirk.  (Y/N) shrugged and nonchalantly took a bite.  As her tongue registered the beautifully charred beef mixed with the freshly melted cheddar, topped with refreshing tomatoes and lettuce, Jughead broke out into a grin.  

“This is so good,” she moaned, taking more bites of her burger.

“I told you,” Jughead laughed.

“We’re gonna come back here every day and get these, right?” (Y/N) asked, between burger bites. Jughead’s grin widened.

“Whenever you want.”


Riverdale was rainy for that entire week.  On Thursday, their English teacher assigned their first project of the year, splitting the class into pairs.  As if answering both of their prayers, the English teacher paired up (Y/N) and Jughead. They decided to start the project that night, agreeing to meet at (Y/N)’s house.

“I’m sorry about all the boxes,” (Y/N) apologized as they entered her bedroom.  “I still haven’t finished unpacking.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jughead waved it off.  “My place is even messier, and I can’t make up excuses about having just moved here.” (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, sitting on her bed.  Jughead chose to remain standing, scanning (Y/N)’s room.  He glanced at her pastel blue walls, the simply-framed windows covered by pale white curtains.  He walked in front of the window.

“I think you brought Seattle weather with you to Riverdale,” Jughead commented, pulling (Y/N)’s wispy curtains aside to look at the rainstorm outside her window.  She rose from her bed and walked over to stand next to him.

“Good,” she muttered.  He turned to face her and raised his eyebrows. “I like the rain.”

“So do I,” he agreed, “but this is excessive.”

“No such thing.”


Even without the project, Jughead and (Y/N) frequently met up.  Whether it be the drive in, (Y/N)’s house, or Pop’s, the two always tried to make time for each other.

A month after they met, Jughead decided to introduce (Y/N) to his other two best friends: Archie and Betty.  

It was drizzling on a Wednesday when they met in Pop’s, both Archie and Betty immediately adoring (Y/N).

“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled, sticking out her hand to shake.  (Y/N) beamed as she happily shook Betty’s hand.  “I’m Betty Cooper.”

“And I’m Archie Andrews,” Archie greeted, choosing to simply wave at (Y/N) rather than shake her hand.

“I’m (Y/N),” she introduced herself, laughing, “but it seems that you already knew that.”

“Jughead talks about you a lot,” Betty giggled, causing (Y/N) to smirk at Jughead.

“Oh really?” she inquired, and Jughead rolled his eyes.

“She’s never gonna let that go,” he complained to Betty and Archie.  “Thanks a lot.”

The four quickly fell into a casual conversation, (Y/N) fitting into the friend group with ease. It felt like she had always been with them in Riverdale.  Archie and Betty noticed the obvious chemistry between her and Jughead, and throughout the dreary evening, Archie and Betty exchanged knowing glances as they observed (Y/N) and Jughead’s interactions.  Neither of them said anything, but instead, they chose to just sit and watch Jughead and (Y/N) slowly but surely fall in love.


After two more months, Betty and Archie grew frustrated with the lack of progression in Jughead and (Y/N)’s relationship.  Riverdale had grown too cold for it to rain anymore, but the snow, in Jughead’s mind, still counted as rain.  It was only frozen.

He hadn’t seen (Y/N) in a while outside of school, both of them too busy.  (Y/N) became buried under her heavy academic burden, and Jughead grew immersed in his writing.  They hadn’t grown apart, they just didn’t grow any closer, much to Betty and Archie’s dismay.


A bitter and cold February passed through Riverdale, and it was during that month that (Y/N) finally met Kevin Keller.  It had been four months since Betty and (Y/N) had met, and the two of them grew very close.  Not as close as (Y/N) and Jughead, but Betty was definitely (Y/N)’s go-to girl.  

“You’re gonna love Kevin,” Betty assured her as they sat in Betty’s pastel pink room.  

“If you insist,” (Y/N) smiled.  A light knock on the door caught their attention, and they whipped their heads around to see Kevin entering Betty’s bedroom.

“I finally have the privilege to meet the famous (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he grinned.

“Kevin Keller,” she laughed. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, sitting down next to her.  “God, I’ve been dying to meet you ever since Betty started talking about how cute you and Jughead were together.”

“Together?” she lightly scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes.  “Jughead and I are just friends.”

“And you like it that way?” Betty questioned with a smile tugging at her lips.

(Y/N) hesitated for a split second.  “Of course,” she answered.

“You hesitated,” Kevin immediately noted.  (Y/N) released an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.  “I never really thought about it that way.”

“Well maybe you should start considering it,” Betty suggested.  “I’ve known Jughead for years, and I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you.”


The rest of winter breezed through, and soon April showers began to roll into Riverdale.  It was the rainiest spring they ever had, but it came to no shock to Jughead.  He stood by his belief that (Y/N) brought the Seattle rain with her.

With spring came more free time for (Y/N) and Jughead, allowing them to begin to meet up more often. Their relationship picked up where they had just left off, except with a small alteration.  Jughead couldn’t quite pick up what had changed between the two of them, but (Y/N) knew exactly what it was.

They sat in her bedroom again.  It was a typical scene, but something was different.  The sun was out for what felt like the first time since they met.  Something had shifted in their relationship, and neither (Y/N) nor Jughead knew how to express it.

“The sun’s out,” Jughead gave his daily weather report.  (Y/N)’s eyes lazily flicked towards her window, watching the beams of light float into her room.

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“I don’t think it’s been sunny since you’ve moved here,” he joked, forcing out a laugh.  (Y/N)’s fingers twiddled with the soft fabric of her bed.  Jughead sighed at her lack of response.  They sat in silence for a couple minutes, Jughead continuing to stare out the window and (Y/N) fidgeting on her bed.  Finally, (Y/N) stood up and crossed her arms over her chest as she ventured next to Jughead.

“It was very rude, you know,” she drawled, earning a confused look from Jughead, “that you made me fall in love with you.  Inconsiderate, really.”

A split second of silence passed as Jughead tried to collect his wits.

“Not what you had in mind?”  He smirked.

(Y/N) shrugged.  "Quite inconvenient, actually.“

"I’m not sorry,” he stated, stepping closer to her. He tenderly placed a hand on her cheek.

“Me neither,” she whispered, her gaze focused on his lips.

Without any more hesitation, Jughead brought (Y/N)’s face towards his and pressed his lips against hers, just a feather-light kiss.  She wrapped her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to deepen the kiss, like a flower craving the thirst-quenching rain.

“You know,” Jughead disconnected their lips, “I lied about liking the rain.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling.  "I just pretended to like it for you.  I actually hate the rain.“

Keep reading

Before I Loved You || Peter Parker x Reader [Part 1]

Request: “Reader has been friends with Peter since before his parents died, making them childhood friends. She’s loved him for as long as she can remember and has always been there for him through thick and thin. But he starts to become distant with the whole hero thing, making her feel like she isn’t worth it anymore to him. After she sees him and Liz kiss at homecoming, she moves on to date someone but doesn’t realize Peter was actually going to tell her his secrets and ask her out.” -By Tumblr Anon

Title: Before I Loved You
Pairing: Peter Parker x (f)Reader!
Word Count: 2k+
Warning: Fluff, language, shy-stammering/blushing Peter Parker. Slight se.xual situations/dialogue. Angst? Future Homecoming Spoilers.
A/N: Reposting/Plagiarizing is not appreciated, reblog is fine. Wow I posted finally~ I really hope it came out I didn’t edit this one much. Thank you for reading ♡

This may become a 3-4 part series because it is pretty long, and I don’t usually go over 3k words with oneshots.


The day you and Peter met, all started down by the lazy river at the waterpark; a school field trip provided by Midtowns elementary and middle schools. He was the first to come up to you complimenting your Captain America hat, which lead onto a fangirling conversation between you.

“She your little girlfriend now? Look at this~ Puny Parker’s got a girlfriend!” Your moment was ruined though, of course, when some older kid came from behind Peter, just pushing him around, then flicking your hat off into the water“That’s enough!

When you had, had enough you pushed them into the pools river, satisfied they couldn’t get out because of the pools flow. After that, you had offered Peter your favorite gummy eraser of Iron Man to help cheer him up. And from then on, the two of you became good friends.


During the Stark Expo, you had gone with Peter and his parents. But everyone got separated when it ended up in crisis. Much to your surprise, when you had finally found Peter, he stood in front of one of the killer robots with the biggest toothy grin you had ever seen on him. Peter had told you he saw Iron Man, and of course you believed him.

“I stuck out my hand towards the robot?! And then it started pointing its gun at me, then out of nowhere, Iron Man takes it down from behind me! A-and, I was like Woahhhh! And then, then he was like… “Nice work kid.” That’s what he told me, Y/N, it was the coolest thing ever!”


You were Peter’s first kiss, and him yours. It was an accident of course. But when you two were in your last years of middle school, you had gone to a pool party, and the two of you were splashing waves at the other, just having a good time until he decided to try and impress you by jumping off the tall diving board… But ended up doing the world’s worst belly flop.

When he never came up you panicked and swam towards him while everyone laughed, only for him to pull you under. You guys laughed underwater until someone pushed your heads together purposely, making you share your first kiss. And that’s when you knew, you always loved him.

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