hand out of no where

2

A/N: Guys I just realized that today (June 23rd) is two years since I started this blog! Thank you everyone for following my trash blog and reading my trash imagines! Enjoy this imagine that includes my fave, the one and only Lily Evans ♡

I was sitting in the library, studying and minding my own business, when my boyfriend, Regulus, grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out. 

“Regulus, where are you taking me?” I was half-laughing as I tried to regain my balance. 

“Hush, I’m bored and looked all over the school to find you. I think I deserve some quality y/n time.” He turned the corner and stopped. 

“Babe, what–” Regulus cut me off with a kiss. He gently pushed me against the wall and held me close to him by my waist. I tried to come up for air, giggling, but Regulus just smiled amusedly and quieted me with a “Shhh babe, just let it happen.”

I gave in and tangled my fingers in his curly black hair. Regulus pulled away and made his way down from my lips to my jaw, then to my neck. I happily sighed and let it happen. He was traveling down my neck now, peppering little kisses everywhere. I was about to pull him back up so our lips could meet, when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

“Y/n?”

I gasped and looked to my left to see my older sister Lily standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at me and Regulus in shock. 

“Lily!” 

“And why didn’t you tell me you two were a thing?” Lily glared at me, then Regulus, then back at me. 

“I, well, I did have a reason–”

Lily stomped towards us with her most terrifying angry face, making us spring apart and Regulus stand as straight up as he could. My sister got up on her tiptoes and pushed her face threateningly in Regulus’s, who drew his head back in fear.

“I’m warning you Black, if you pull a Sirius and leave my baby sister’s heart shattered in pieces on the floor, I will feed you alive to a Manticore. Got it?” 

Regulus gulped and nodded quickly. Lily seemed to be satisfied with how terrified Regulus was and snapped back into her normal self. She playfully pushed me back with her finger and said, “And you, my dear y/n, you are going to find me later and tell me all–ALL– of your deepest, darkest secrets.” She turned and made her way down the hallway, “I’m looking forward to it!”

When Lily was out of sight, Regulus finally sighed and grinned sheepishly at me. “I tried to apparate myself out of here but then I remembered that I don’t know how to apparate.”

I laughed as I slipped my hand into Regulus’s. “I would say that you shouldn’t be afraid of her, but that would be a lie. Her bite is as hard as her bark.” 

“Oh Merlin.” Regulus laughed and shook his head in defeat and we made our way down the hallway to find a more private spot.

psychthriller  asked:

can i just say u have ruined my fucking life oh my god SPLOOSH. Everything you write is absolutely dripping in filth and I ADORE it. You are so talented, you write Kylo better than anyone else out there, hands down. like there was a point while reading FYA where I stopped and was just like "I have no idea who this author is, what their gender is, what they look like, but I would ABSOLUTELY bang them based solely on their writing alone." that's probably creepy but plz take it as a compliment lol

Hahahaha! Oh my god. Thank you so much. I DO take it as a compliment–and, honestly, it’s not the first time someone has said that?

And because I can never pass up an opportunity to receive attention, here’s what I look like, if you’re still wondering–

I was proud of my makeup that day, okay!?

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

I had an anon a while ago asking for Hunk love and I was so busy I didn’t get to it until now! (And even now it’s kind of messy but !!! I love hunk!!!)

Bonus*:

*On every planet, always

Today on "Where the fuck did I put that thing I literally just fucking had in my hands two fucking minutes ago?", we find out where I placed the hot mug of coffee I was drinking from.

Fleur Delacour

krayzkit  asked:

Got any art tips on drawing hands? More specifically finger placements?

SO this is kinda the template that i use to draw hands

to figure out where the fingers would go, i draw a curve to indicate where the tips of the fingers would be (or the knuckles, it works both ways). by following that curve, i’m able to figure out where the fingers would go. 

you don’t have to follow it perfectly, but staying along the curve makes the finger placement look more natural and makes it easier for me to draw hands

i hope that helps!!!

aquiver | 01 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings: mature themes, talk of masturbation, smut, language
words: 10,110
summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…
note. inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the character’s past occupation haha

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 |

Keep reading

She is lost, and so is he. He looks at the lovely face next to him, and stretches his hand out to her. She takes it without hesitation.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” he tells her, “but together, we will find a way out.”

“We may be lost now, but together, we will be found,” he smiles,

“As long as we have faith.”

—  Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #128 // “Hold on, don’t ever let go.”

Alright, so, I’ll start this off by saying I am honestly not an expert on Kakyoin, contrary to popular belief (I’d actually consider myself more of an expert on Jotaro’s character, if anything), but I’m going to do my best to give my views on Kakyoin’s character, as well as some canon evidence to support it, and hopefully it will help a bit.

If you want a great reference of how to write Kakyoin in fic, go read Sand, sand and more sand on AO3, because it’s honestly one of the best depictions of Kak I’ve ever read, and he’s quite close to canon.

*ahem*

Kakyoin is pretty snarky. He’s subtle about it, but he’s also kind of a shithead. He’s polite most of the time, but it seems to be more of a setting he defaults to when he doesn’t feel entirely comfortable around the people he’s with. We have quite a few quips from him as examples of this, such as him laughing at andd mocking Anne during the dark blue moon arc, and saying she couldn’t possibly be the stand user on board, and in the Geb and N'Doul fight where he orders Polnareff to attack the canteen because he “doesn’t want to”. He also at one point responds to Polnareff saying “this looks bad!” with, “well it most certainly isn’t good.”

He’s blunt, but this also means that he’s honest. He dislikes liars, and prefers that everything is set out before him clearly and plainly as opposed to someone that is clearly dancing around the subject.

He also seems like quite the know-it-all, and likes being right; and he’s probably the type to argue with someone even if he knows he’s wrong. He seems to genuinely enjoy teaching the crusaders about the culture of all the places they visit on their journey, and he has the ability to retain all of that information to recant to them, as well. It seems to be somewhat of an interest of his.

And then there’s this, of course…

The cherry thing is something that kind of bothers me in fandom and fic. Yes; Kakyoin says that cherries are his favourite fruit. Child Kakyoin has cherries on his shirt (keep in mind that the scene with child kakyoin is added in my DavidPro and is not technically canon). BUT, it doesn’t mean that he has to have everything cherry-related. It’s a seriously overused trait in fandom to the point that it just becomes annoying. Kak can have a coffee without it having to be cherry flavoured. Just remember that he canonically enjoys lots of different foods, and that he doesn’t need to exclusively eat cherries and cherry flavoured things. He probably likes to eat foods from all different cultures.

Video games: There is evidence to suggest that Kakyoin spends a LOT of time playing F-Mega, however, this doesn’t mean that his extreme knowledge of the tracks and mechanics applies to every video game in existence. He’s a teenager, with no friends in the 80’s, of course he’s going to spend time playing video games. But back in the 80s, people often only had one or two games, so it’s likely that he has simply replayed F-Mega a LOT, to the point of knowing it by heart. I know the levels of Mario 3 extremely well, simply because I played them over and over again as a kid. If you are fixated on a single game for extended periods of time (especially if it’s the only game you own), you are of course going to know the game well. Knowing a lot about a single game does not mean that he’s obsessed with video games, and does not necessarily mean that he’s a shut-in, and never goes outside.

Also keep in mind that he says that he’s “pretty good at video games”. He doesn’t claim to be great at them, and since we’ve already established that Kakyoin is quite blunt, it would be out of character to assume that he’s being humble here. He literally means that he’s just “pretty good” at them. No more, no less.

His real-world experience is vast, and it’s also mentioned that his parents take him many places on vacation. He’s been to a lot of places, and retains cultural knowledge. It’s not as if he’s read it in books: he’s actually been to these places before, and he mentions it frequently. This suggests that he gets out quite a bit, and also kind of suggests that maybe he isn’t quite the model student type in school.

Kakyoin doesn’t appear to be the honours student & straight A’s type. He doesn’t think twice about skipping out on his new school to travel to Egypt, and as I said before, his knowledge appears to come more from first-hand experience rather than school studies (and I bet he missed more than a few of his classes due to the trips that he and his parents took). He’s a know-it-all, but it doesn’t mean that he does well in school.

On the other hand, Jotaro IS a model student, despite his delinquent status. It’s more likely that Jotaro would be the one helping Kakyoin with his homework.
(He might disrespect his teachers, but he still gets good grades, and let’s not forget that he becomes a marine biologist later in life.)

Kakyoin’s profile also mentions that he “appears very effeminite”. This is another thing that is often misinterpreted. His appearence may be somewhat feminine, and he takes pride in how he looks, but his personality and mannerisms are not inherently feminine.

He hates being forced into submission, and this is the reason why he despises Dio so much. Dio took advantage of his vulnerability and the fact that Kak didn’t have any friends to use him as his pawn. He drew Kak in, made him feel wanted, needed, and then took control of his mind and body.

“He appears to be very effeminate. In reality, he despises submitting to people or sucking up to them.” - Taken directly from his canon personality description.

Another thing that people seem to miss is the fact that he’s extremely sadistic. He says himself that Heirophant “loves nothing more than to rip things to shreds” and that it might “drive him mad with joy”. He likes being in control of the situation, remember. He probably hates losing fights, as well (especially since he could be considered a weakling for losing).

Kakyoin also seems to like Baseball, judging by his profile naming a favourite team, and sumo, as we all know from his exchange with Jotaro.

One of the things that fandom does definitely get right, is Kakyoin being the mother hen of the group. He’s taken on the role of the responsible one, because Joseph is… far from being an adult. He’s strategic and thinks everything out logically, and so is the mature one of the group, especially after Avdol’s “death”. He appears to be content to follow Joseph, but when it’s needed, he steps up and becomes the leader in his place. This is seen when Jotaro, Joseph and Polnareff start physically fighting random men that they suspect are the one in the Wheel of Fortune car, to which he says that, “this is not a good idea,” and that it’s, “getting out of hand”. It’s also seen in the tower of grey fight where he mentions that it’s better that he fights on the plane, because he’s the least destructive of the bunch (even though he’s capable of blasting holes into clock towers, apparently his emerald splash isn’t destructive; okay Kak…).

He’s also fiercely protective of his friends, and extremely loyal as well. Kakyoin isn’t the type to abandon his friends in any circumstance.

He’s a CASANOVA. While Jotaro draws more unwanted attention from girls due to his bad boy façade, Kakyoin is slick and smooth with them, so much so that they notice him more over Jotaro. He’s quick to diffuse the situation when Jotaro pushes the girls aside (again, in the tower of grey arc), and it’s just… yes.

Just look at this. You can bet your ass he’s not the type to blush and stutter as he’s confessing. Straight up grabbing the girl and apologizing for Jotaro. Smooth as butter.


Here are some other scenes that might be able to explain his character a bit better as well:

Mouthing off to Joseph- Jotaro approves.

This line is wonderful. (Again, to Joseph? It’s almost like they have this kind of rivalry going on, haha)

Some really good insight to his character and motivations (And one of my favourite Jotakak moments).

The anime kind of makes this out to be a sort of “Kakyoin mocking Polnareff” scene, but in the manga he seems like he’s just stating what he heard. Pretty matter-of-fact about the whole situation.

Unimpressed.

I believe that this is the first moment that Kakyoin really realizes that he and any of his companions can die at any moment. Avdol has been shot, and he’s in complete shock. This is a normal teenager that’s now painfully aware of the danger he’s putting himself in to help out Jotaro and Joseph. Sure, he realized that he would be involved in fights, and a little blood would be shed for the greater good, but I don’t think he had realized up to this point that he might actually die.

And here’s Kakyoin’s character bio.

It’s also notable that he didn’t tell his parents where he was going prior to leaving. This doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s in bad standing with his parents (especially since his dying thoughts were of them), and could possibly be because he didn’t want to worry them, or something of the sort, but the fact remains that he didn’t tell them beforehand. Take from this what you will.

So yeah, this is what I get from Kakyoin. He’s kind, loyal to a fault, and deeply in love with Jotaro– and he’s a pretty complex character to write. Don’t feel like you need to take all of this into account, because it’s hard to keep his entire character intact with fanfiction. A lot of his personality comes across in facial expressions, so it’s sometimes difficult to translate that into non-visual media. Just refer back to canon if you aren’t sure of something, and you should be fine. Good luck!

Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this! 

“Good morning, Keith.”

Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”

“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.

Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.

“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”

Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.

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Your hands are Really Nice- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: (requested) Reader is too shy to tell Jughead about her feelings, so Veonica and Betty take matters in to their own hands (mostly Veronica)

Warnings: Swears, fluff so much fluff I couldn’t even deAL

————————————————————————————-


Being in love with your best friend isn’t easy. It feels taboo, like it’s wrong, and unhealthy. You’ll lay awake at ungodly hours of the night, wondering “How did this happen?” You’ll replay every moment of every waking minute you spent with them, wondering how in the world you ended up lying on your floor with an empty bowl of ramen beside your head and imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. You’ll catch yourself admiring the tiniest insignificant things about them, and every detail of their stupidly cute face, and every indent and curve and freckle on their body, and let me tell you, it sucks. Falling in love with your best friend isn’t easy, especially when your best friend is Jughead Jones.


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The entirety of New York City’s downworlder population know or know of Magnus Bane. The High Warlock of Brooklyn is not a title left behind some trash can in an alley of Queens, it is flaunted at the fanciest parties in Brooklyn and Upper East Side.

And so it really comes as no surprise that when he starts dating a shadowhunter, Alec Lightwood’s name is spread about the same way. It is whispered in vampire dens, gossiped about in the Hunter’s Moon and Pandemonium is always on alert for any shadowhunters in its midst.

He’s the Lightwood’s son… He left his bride-to-be at the altar… He defied the Clave for a warlock… The Wolves almost killed his parabatai…

Seelies listen to the trees, wolves listen to the scattered word on the street, vampires all hear the new fledgling’s complaints (“he’s such an ass” or “sometimes I don’t get what Magnus sees in him” and “he does seem like a knight in shining armour, though”) and warlocks only have to look at Magnus’ affectionate expression whenever Alec’s name pops up in conversation to know he is something special.

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Contrary to popular beliefs about Oikawa’s self-centered personality, he’s not the type to really take care of himself. He’s got naturally pretty hair and pretty skin and pretty face - he says he’s blessed by the Oikawa genes, everyone believes it to be true. 

But, again, he’s not the type to take time out for himself. He’ll cut his fingernails really short to handle the ball better and subconsciously bites what’s left out of anxiety. His hands are normally dry and rough, sometimes scraped if he landed wrongly on the ground from going after a ball; it’s a sad sight when you look at the bony structures of his wrists and his slender fingers that would, without a doubt, make his hands look beautiful if it weren’t for his lack of care towards them. 

The thing is that he doesn’t care what happens to his hands or his knees or his legs or his ankles - he’s focused on one goal and that’s to improve himself. He thinks he just needs his pretty face to get by so that his other imperfections are overlooked - and he manages to get by too, except with one person.

That one person that carries moisturizers and lotions in his bag, along with polysporin and bandages and tylenol and protein bars (and maybe milk bread, if he’s got the time to get some). He watches Oikawa flirt with danger, serve after serve, set after set, spike after spike. All until he feels it right in his bones that Oikawa’s about to hit his limit and he drags him out of the court, anxious but relieved. 

And in the silence of the locker room, Oikawa sits there in a blissful peace, letting Iwaizumi take his hands in his own and attempting to moisturize them, rubbing polysporin on the scrapes and cuts, whispering little warnings about overworking and not taking care of his body enough with furrowed brows. Oikawa lets his fingers wander around Iwaizumi’s jaw until his lips are kissing Oikawa’s hands - one by one, each finger, his palms, his knuckles. 

“Do they feel better?”

“Mhm, much better.”

Oikawa doesn’t really take care of himself, but he’s glad there’s someone out there that’s willing to take up the challenge. One day, he thinks, he’ll learn to love himself just as much as Iwaizumi loves him.