i cropped out most of it

i’m re-watching season one and honestly. the fact that keith had no clue shiro was in that crashed space ship makes everything about the fact that he ends up rescuing shiro from evil garrison scientists so frickin funny, lmao. i can’t believe this dude, lance is so right. keith doesn’t even have to try half the time to be successful. like, the boy’s only guardian goes to pluto and never comes back, so keith acts out in anger and gets his ass expelled from the garrison. then he just starts living alone in the middle of the goddamn desert, where he discovers some ancient prophecy about some alien something-or-other crash landing in said desert. and he’s like “seems legit" and so he sets up some explosives (which he got from ??? who knows where) and waits for the prophesied alien ship to crash land. then he blows up the explosives he set to distract the garrison guards, gets on a (most likely stolen from the garrison) hoverbike wearing a cropped red and white jacket, black jeggings, go-go boots, and a bandana to cover the bottom of his face, strolls into the garrison’s lab and knocks out everyone on sight with his bare fists. JUST out of curiosity to see what was in that alien ship. and it’s only after aaall of that that he looks at what they found, sees it’s shiro, and is like “oh word? been looking for this guy” i’m. i just.

aceofalmonds  asked:

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

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

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tree. Did not. fruit.

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

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

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

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

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

4

The “my little random moments of pleasure” series -
Gun cleaning should not look so pretty N°1 - SN:12x18

I don’t think I’ve seen any posts that went over what the water system in Palestine was like for each house, so I’ll try to go over it as best I can without any pictures -

Israel controls all of our water resources, and has allocated the resources of the Jordan river in an 83%/17% split, meaning that Israelis get 83% of its water while Palestinians are only allowed the remaining 17%.

Israel also routinely shuts of Palestinian water in order to supply Israeli settlements, which feature lavish swimming pools and well-kept community gardens - something we as Palestinians cannot have due to our limited water allowance and uncertainty regarding water availability.

What this leads to is a situation in which farmers cannot expand their crops or grow their gardens, because to do so would require time, money, and most of all, water. Because water is only allocated to us in an infrequent basis, how is a farmer to know that he has the water security required in order to expand his crops without worrying about having his water shut off for two weeks as all his crops die?

Each house in Palestine generally contains either a beir [well], large plastic containers, or both, meant to hold water. These are automatically filled when Israel turns on our water, with the house itself using the Israeli water before tapping into the beir or the other water reserves.

Motors in the house pump the water into the wells when Israel turns the water on, and then another motor pumps the water of the well into the house.

What makes things even worse is that if there’s no electricity and your well is empty, then it’s not going to fill with water, and if the well is full and there’s no Israeli water or electricity, then the water is not going to make it from the well to your house.

Aside from cutting off our water and only supplying it to us on set days, Israel also frequently cuts out electricity, especially on the hottest days of the year when Israeli settlers are blasting their ACs and creating a huge spike in electricity demand. 

This is just one small aspect of life under Israeli occupation that I feel many don’t actually realize or consider. 

When we say that Israel controls every aspect of our lives, we mean it in the absolute most literal sense. We can’t shower unless they turn on our water, we can’t plant our crops unless they turn on our water, we can’t visit neighboring cities unless the soldiers at the checkpoint are feeling generous, we can’t pray at our holy sites in Jerusalem without special permits that they rarely hand out, We can’t build up our own infrastructure without them tearing it down and claiming it’s a “security concern”. We can’t build on our OWN land without getting approval from them first. We can’t use mobile data services because they continue to deny us the equipment and mobile spectrum required for it, so while Israelis and Israeli settlers enjoy all the 4G they want on their phones, Palestinians are still stuck with having text and the OCCASIONAL “Edge” signal on ours. 

And the list goes on, and on, and on.

anonymous asked:

genuine question: why do you not like people refering to lucio specifically as "boy"? tumblr tends to call every character boy/boi especialy since the mcelroys became popular so what is it about lucio in particular that isnt good to call him boy

The short answer: it’s because he’s black and the people doing it are largely white and there’s cultural baggage surrounding white people using the words “boy” and “son” to address black men. 

The long answer starts out with the idea of tonedeafness and a fandom phenomenon that crops up when predominately white fanbases are exposed to dimensional, compelling characters of color. The same thing happened with Star Wars and Pacific Rim and so many other diverse franchises lately. 

A lot of the time, white fans are genuinely not trying to be racist, but most of their faves up to this point have been white, and they haven’t considered that perhaps the way they write and talk about those faves would take on different implications when the characters’ race is considered. 

For instance, and I get in trouble a lot for bringing this up, but a few months ago there was a Disney AU fanart of Finn and Rey from Star Wars as Tarzan and Jane. Now, in the movie, Tarzan and Jane are both white, but in the art, the impact changes because Finn is a black man and the artist drew him as an animalistic ape-man who meets a delicate high-class British woman who “civilizes” him. Obviously the Tarzan/Jane dynamic has a very VERY different meaning if Tarzan is depicted as black and Jane is depicted as white, and it is in fact racist to depict Finn that way even if it wouldn’t even be the smallest problem to draw, say, Iron Man and Pepper Potts in the same exact situation. (Also if anyone is Tarzan in that pairing, it’s Rey, but I digress)

So you get these situations where people are trying to do the stuff they always do for all characters, only their faves have mostly been white up to this point so they’ve never really had to consider the racial implications of the stuff they say and write about those characters. That’s why they draw D.Va as an infant without realizing that the infantilization of East Asian women is actually a harmful racist practice, and then when informed of this fact, instead of saying “oh shit, I didn’t know I was contributing to that! Thanks for telling me, I’ll stop doing it,” they get defensive and claim that actually it doesn’t matter if the end product is 100% identical to racism, because they didn’t intend for it to be racist, that’s not what they were trying to do.

Also, generally speaking, they don’t do the same thing to white characters. While jokes at the expense of Soldier: 76 and Zarya are usually things like “he’s old and grumpy” or “she’s really strong,” jokes about Reaper are more like “he’s got a huge dick and he’s abusive and a rapist” and jokes about D.Va are usually “she’s a dirty and mischievous subhuman creature and the white guy is like her dad.” The fact that a lot of people make all these jokes and think they’re roughly equivalent speaks to how much unconscious racism they’ve got to purge from their system. 

Alright, so now that we understand that, let’s get into a little more of why “boy” and “son” in particular are not the sort of thing you should not call Lucio. 

The first and main reason is that he’s a grown man, aged 26, but more importantly, he is a black man. Historically, the words “boy” and “son” have been used on black men for two reasons: 

  1. Because even grown black men were to be treated as childlike under white supremacy, esp. under slavery, and even after the abolition of slavery, the words “boy” and “son” are still used in order to talk down to black men. You will still frequently catch younger white people address black men older than them as “boy” or “son,” especially in a service capacity (i.e. a black waiter or employee at a store). Under slavery, the dominant white supremacist narrative was that even the smartest black people were only on the level of white children, which is obviously a complete falsehood fabricated to justify their continued subjugation by saying “they’d be lost without us.” So, by referring to black men as “boy” or “son,” that’s the message that was being communicated, that even though any given black person is grown, they’re still viewed as roughly mentally equivalent to children. 
  2. A lot of slaveowners didn’t feel it was worth it to learn the individual names of their slaves, so they would simply address them as “boy” or “son” (or “girl” or a variety of other degrading names for women) and this practice continued even after the abolition of slavery. Again, calling back to the “black waiter” situation I referred to earlier, you still sometimes see white patrons referring to black employees as “boy” or “son” in this way. For older people, they would use the terms “Auntie” and “Uncle” as a way to deny them honorific titles such as “Mister” and “Miss,” which is where we get mascots like “Aunt Jemima” and “Uncle Ben,” both of whom were derived from this practice. A similar example is how a lot of white railroad passengers wouldn’t bother to learn the names of their car’s porter and would simply call them all “George,” which again sort of demonstrates my point: the name “George” isn’t inherently racist, lots of people have that name, but to call a black guy doing their job that carries different implications even if you “didn’t mean it that way.”

So generally, there’s nothing wrong with the words “boy” or “son” most of the time, but when you address a black man this way, it carries a whole different implication. I’m not trying to condemn anyone morally or say “you’re evil if you’ve ever used these words about Lucio” or anything, but back to the beginning of this:

I am assuming you all have positive intent, that you are all well-meaning and that you are definitely not trying to be racist. Because of this, I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you when a thing you’re saying carries meanings that you maybe didn’t consider and definitely didn’t mean to imply. I know I would feel foolish and guilty if I found out something I’d been saying casually actually had a racist meaning that I wasn’t aware of, so I just want to say that if anyone reading this is (like me) a white person who’s really truly well-intentioned and doesn’t mean to be racist at all, your response here should be “oh wow, I didn’t know that Boy and Son are names you generally shouldn’t call black people, I’ll be more conscious of that in the future,” and if your response is to become defensive and try to prove that it isn’t bad because you didn’t mean it “that way,” it either means you aren’t well-intentioned and do mean to be racist OR it means you didn’t read the post. 

That being said, I’m happy to inform where I can, but I’m also not black, and a lot of black writers have explained this a lot more eloquently than me. I suggest you do some googling and research what they’ve said on the subject, because I’m sure they’ll give you a clearer picture than I possibly can. 

No filter witchcraft: let’s be fucking honest

So something occurred to me today.

I’m sure this is true of Tumblr and social media as a whole, and not just Witchblur, but it seems like a lot of witches, particularly if they are new, feel a certain degree of guilt when they see all these posts by Elder Witches with Ye Olde Grand Altar with Flawless Aesthetic and Perfect Perfectness at all times.

And let’s be honest.

None of us actually fucking live like that.

Our altars get dusty. Our workspaces get cluttered. Maybe our space isn’t very ideal to begin with, when we’re not carefully cropping out the crappy edges. Don’t lie: at most times apart from when we’re taking pictures for Witchblur or IG, it can look, well… not exceptionally magical. And certainly not as straight-up supernatural as it does after we’ve gotten done editing it within an inch of its life.

So I propose that on Saturdays (or any day, I do suppose), as an act of encouragement and solidarity to witches – and baby witches especially – who are feeling guilty for not being something that doesn’t fucking exist, we post #nofilterwitchcraft.

Take a picture of anything having to do with your witch-ness, that is not tailored for perfection, not carefully pruned, not super aesthetic, and throw it up on Witchblur or IG. It doesn’t have to be a working, per se. It can be anything, as long as it’s witch-related in some way.

Here’s mine.

This is my usual workspace, which is a tiny side table which usually shares space with my ugly speakers and in this case, also some random hair shit. Also in-frame is my extremely ugly early 2000′s fold-away caravan mattress (which I couldn’t be fucked to actually fold up today), and my cover-less duvet. In other words, I am more or less a mess.

Let’s see yours. Tag #nofilterwitchcraft and I’ll reblog if you want.

I caved y’all. I tried to resist the temptation, but @zephyrine-gale ‘s crop top trend was too strong and I just *clenches fist* had to;;; so…behold: crop top with finger-less glove sleeves (my dream shirt tbh)

Some thoughts
  • studyblrs range in age. I’ve seen 13 year olds and I’ve seen people in their late 30s. obviously, your age has a huge influence on your perspective, simply due to your experiences. 
  • studyblrs are diverse. there are so many of us from so many different backgrounds. 
  • each person has their own unique experiences and personality. what works for them may not work for you. doesn’t mean one method is better than the other. if it works, it works. 
  • most of the study tips/advice on here are posted from experience (well, they are for me anyway). the advice may seem repetitive, redundant, or counter-intuitive. doesn’t mean it didn’t work for the person posting it. 
  • your blog and your dashboard is what you want it to be. If you do not like the posts you are seeing, follow some new blogs that spark your interest. you control what you want to see. 
  • this website is a social media platform built on validation. People, myself included, want notes and followers. I’m not afraid to admit it. The whole point of this website is about notes and followers. Who doesn’t want to be acknowledged? 
  • i would assume that most people already understand that a picture does not describe the entire situation. We’ve all cropped and edited a photo for the internet before. 
  • For some people, making pretty notes may be a way to destress. I like to turn to art when I’m stressed out or anxious. I think making pretty notes or pretty journal spreads is a great form of therapy while also being productive. I mean, I could either spend 6 hours randomly painting (productive) or I could spend 6 hours taking notes and making them pretty because it relaxes me (even more productive). 
  • there is no wrong way to study. the way you study does not indicate intelligence or GPA. each person is different. . 
  • your field of study, your university, or your degree does not make you better or smarter than others. there are different kinds of intelligence. 
  • classism, racism, and ablesim are rampant in this community. let’s focus our discussions on fixing that. 
alien emoji rating

I really like aliens so I’ll go ahead and rate my little boys

Apple:

He looks cute and kind of nice, this shows that aliens do come in piece, the gradient effect gives a 3 D  S P A C E  P I N B A L L feel which is a nice touch. 4/5. He’s really nice, someone give him live stock for his planet.

Goolge:

I’m not sure Google is aware of the popular conception of aliens, but maybe they know something we don’t???? The colors are flat, something that in most cases is not bad, but this time it is, he seeks intelligent life yet he looks as he has no life at all. 1/5.

Microsoft:

He’s conventionally attractive and happy for some reaon, I’d let him make patterns in my crops, the T H I C C lines are not the best idea but the glow in his eyes are perfect. Not the best desing choices but I can deal with it. 3/5.

Samsung:

Isn’t this the most visually pleasing gradient ever made by human kind? But not for this guy, he looks like he’s dying cuz can’t breath our oxygen, poor fellow, also his face looks strange, he might as well be Mr. Burns. 3/5. Looks really smug and I bet this kid thinks he’s the smartest guy in the class.

LG:

Straight out of the uncanny valley, the face you’d expect to see from a badly written creepypasta edited over an old photo that’s supposed to possess you, looks scary, creepy and offsetting but not in the nice way aliens are supposed to look. Please deport him to his planet. 0/5. Save your children from LG cellphones.

HTC:

Look at this guy, like LOOK at This gUY!! His cute smile, this lime boy looks so mischievous, probably on space Santa’s naughty children list. The lines, the colors and the E D G E S are so pleasing to the eyes. 5/5. I’d let this guy invade my planet any day and eradicate all sentient matter without hesitation.

Facebook:

He’s scary, creepy and offsetting in the nice way aliens are supposed to be, the soulless eyes and the grey color blend so nice together making him intimidating and also hypnotizing. 5/5. Please take me away with you and use me as a guinea pig for your nefastus plots. 

Messenger:

The colors looks like he’s from a flash animation and his face of utter disgust makes him unpleasant, I’ll take him with my leader because I don’t wanna deal with him. 3/5. You might be ugly, but you’re the designated emoji for most of my chats.

Twitter:

He’s minimalistic and cute, this grey buddy is my friend, please hug him and treat him nicely, he just want diplomatic relations with our planet, give him love and natural resources, he deserves them. 4/5.

Mozilla:

This guy is not an alien, he’s a light outlet. He’s nice and is probably that one cousin they sit with you on family gatherings, not because you get along, but because they want you to keep him from doing something stupid like breaking a bowl or causing a nuclear holocaust. 2/5. Sorry Kyle, I’m not your baby sister.

most people in the barrio hear about baby sonny from usnavi before they actually meet him

//so I was thinking this morning (always a dangerous sign) that I’ve talked a bit recently about how the Tumblr RP community isn’t always very good at encouraging people to find ways to manage or get to their drafts, and is instead more likely to coddle peoples’ anxieties without actually helping them at all. 

So this is a post of a few tips and tricks that might help RPers manage some of the more common anxieties I see crop up in our circle. Now, I’m not a full psychologist and nor am I licensed counselor. But I do have my master’s degree in clinical psychology with the intention to go on for the PhD (or get licensed to practice if I don’t get into a program) so I do kinda know what I’m talking about. Hopefully some of this advice is a little helpful:

1. “My drafts just stress me out.” This is a pretty common complaint, but I think in most circumstances it’s caused by stress going on outside of the RP world. Take a step back and breathe. Handle whatever is going on in your real life. That always comes first. If you come back and your drafts are still causing you to feel panicky, the next step is to find out the more specific reasons why. That’s going to help you best address the anxiety. Read on for some common reasons.

2. “I’ve gotten so behind, there’s so many and I’m overwhelmed.” This happens all the time! You take a hiatus for a week or two, or life just got really busy for a while, or just lost muse and now it’s back. But in the meantime, your drafts have piled up- suddenly you’re looking at 20, 50, 100- how do you even start? 

The best way I’ve found to handle this is to break them up into smaller chunks. It might be helpful to copy and paste your partners’ replies over into one or more word documents. You can then further organize those word documents even more. One for short replies, one for long, one for medium length. Or you can organize by muses, by how long the draft has been in your folder- whichever way you want to handle this. If you want to put one reply per document, you can organize them into folders instead. How you do this is entirely up to you.

Set a small goal for yourself- even one draft a day is better than no drafts at all. But by breaking the work up into chunks, you’ve taken a lot of the pressure off yourself. A goal of 1-5 drafts a day is a lot better than looking at all 50. 

Another tip- use the queue! Or simply keep completed drafts saved in the drafts folder until you’ve caught up enough to start posting. The queue will stagger your posts so replies aren’t coming out all at once, and your partners aren’t able to immediately reply back. And obviously keeping them in drafts even after they’re done lets you have more time to catch up. These are just a couple of tips, however, and there are probably other good ways to manage drafts. Find what works best for you!

And don’t be afraid to drop a couple if you have no muse for those threads anymore. Just let your partner know, they’ll understand. And if they don’t, they’re just an asshole and who needs that, right? It is better to communicate that you’re dropping them, however, so you’re partner isn’t left hanging.

3. “I haven’t replied in weeks, I’m worried my partner hates me.” I guarantee this is not true. Most people in the rp community are very understanding of slow response time. Your partners want to rp with you- they’ll be thrilled to see a response, even if it’s been several weeks. Responding, even slowly, shows a lot more dedication and excitement over your threads. 

So if it’s been several weeks, and you finally have muse for that thread and want to reply to it, but feel guilty or anxious because it’s been so long- reply anyway. Your partner will be so happy to see your response. 

Another way to alleviate this anxiety is to simply talk to your partner. And I know, this can be scary- but sometimes you have to bite the bullet and do the thing that makes you anxious. Take it slow if you need to, but communication is the best way to feel better about it. And I guarantee, you are going to feel so much more proud of yourself if you did the thing that made you anxious than if you didn’t.

That goes for replying as well. 

4. “I feel so inadequate compared to others. I should just stop.” This is an example of what mental health professionals call a “negative automatic thought”, or “NAT”. And like real gnats, these little thoughts get all up in your ears and start buzzing around. They can spiral out of control very quickly, until you feel absolutely terrible about yourself. These thoughts are very common in people with both anxiety and depression. 

But the thing is, they can be changed. You can actually re-wire your brain with a little work so that it won’t think these thoughts quite as often. One of the most effective ways is to simply replace the negative thought with a positive one- even if you don’t believe it. So if your negative thought is “I’m horrible compared to other people,” a replacement thought could be “No, I’m just as good as anyone else,” or “my writing is unique to me and it has value.”

You will not believe yourself at first, and it will seem a little bit weird when you start. It’s also a little challenging- your negative thoughts are automatic, you’re so used to thinking them that you aren’t even fully aware of it it half the time. But when you do catch yourself spiraling off into those negative thoughts- try to stop them. This is something we teach in therapy and over time, it does help. And it does get easier.

5. “It has to be PERFECT.” Perfectionism is at the root of a lot of peoples’ anxieties. But I challenge you with this- why? Why does it have to be perfect? What will happen if it’s not perfect? 

The answer to that, usually, is “my partners will hate me/lose interest/think I’m stupid or a bad writer.” Perfectionism is usually a fear of judgment, and it’s usually fueled by feelings of inadequacy or fears of failure. So to that, I refer you back to the previous advice about negative automatic thoughts. 

Challenge your thinking about your perfectionism. A good replacement thought for this one is “even if it’s not perfect, my partner will still be happy that I responded. My writing is still valuable to them.” Another good one- “imperfection means there’s room to grow. Mistakes don’t mean I’m a failure or no good.” 

In general, don’t let anxiety say “I can’t do this.” You can do it. Anxiety is not a permanent state. The body cannot sustain it very long- the elevated heart rate, heavy breathing, heightened arousal- it’s physically impossible for it to last. Eventually, your body will start to calm itself and even back out. This is something that is very hard to sit with, because your natural instinct is to run away from the thing that’s making you anxious. Your instinct is to close the drafts folder, to close the messenger, to log out of tumblr and ignore it all completely. But the truth is, that only makes your anxiety worse in the long run. 

Now, if these tips don’t help, or you’re finding your anxiety is so bad that it’s affecting your daily life in almost everything- I encourage people to please see a psychologist, psychiatrist, or some other mental health professional. Anxiety that’s chronically preventing you from doing the things you enjoy is anxiety that probably needs treatment. Having the extra support of a therapist or medication often makes it possible to implement some of these strategies, or find better ones that work for you. Especially if you’re having a hard time managing things on your own. 

Anybody that wants to add to this with other ideas that have been helpful to you, please feel free to do so. 

Reggie Mantle x Reader Locker-room Confessions


Request:
Could you maybe do a Reggie x reader where the reader is Jughead’s sister and she’s getting bullied by Chuck and Moose and he catches her crying in the locker room looking for Archie and comforts her and tells her nice stuff and compliments her and just fluff and cuteness.

A/N: This was my first request so I enjoyed it plenty, I hope you love it or least like it! It takes a while to get to the Reggie x Reader only because I wanted it to have a good storyline. 

Words: 1511

Pairing: Reggie x Reader

Summary: Reader is Jughead’s sister and gets bullied and Reggie comes to the rescue. 

Spoilers: There may or may not be a kiss.

Warnings: Like three swear words.


Being Jughead’s sister was not easy at Riverdale High. Everyone questioned you for the small similarities and differences that you had with each other. You hung out mostly with Jughead’s friends since you grew up with them as well.  You were only a year apart in age, but not by grade level. Some even questioned you both if you were twins and Jug became tired of it, so he would claim you were fraternal twins. The high school caste system was not really in favor of you and your brother. You’re brother Jughead had it worse with The Goonies as he called them. He was “freak” to them because he was different than the testosterone filled, brainless guys at your school. Jug was the brooding writer, keeping to himself. You however would dress like him plenty of times, but you liked to try different styles and colors. You were usually the one they’d catch smiling more often. You just tried your best enjoy the hell hole that high school was especially in a small town.

During the weekend you had a sleepover with Veronica and Betty at Veronica’s house. You were mesmerized by the aesthetic of Veronica’s. There was something about big homes that you thoroughly enjoyed, since your family had a small house. You didn’t complain though, you were just happy your family was back together and your dad was getting his act together.

You were thankful for these friends that made Riverdale suck a little less. You had fun with them, as they helped you escape from life for a while when you hung out with them. Veronica was new, but it felt like you had known her all your life. It was now Sunday morning and you all had just eaten breakfast.

“Here you go” Veronica spoke up while you were hanging out in her room.

“What’s this?” You questioned her as you opened the gift bag and took a box out with the most mesmerizing sneaker wedges you had wanted when you guys went window shopping a week before.

Your eyes dilated, and a small smile was forming on your face until you looked up and spoke up “I- I- I can’t take these Ron.”

“Now why not? Those would look great on you with that crop top you bought, but never wore” Veronica declared.

“You would look amazing, (Y/N)” Betty budded in with a smile on her face.

“I just, you guys can’t keep buying me stuff, my parents, and I am not going to be your charity case” you declared with a sad look in your face.

“Oh c’mon you are not my charity case (Y/N/N), I simply bought the wrong size shoe and can’t return them” She retorted.

“Yeah, I was there they would not let her return them” Betty innocently added on the lie.

“You can’t return them?” You questioned Ron with hopeful eyes.

“Nope and now that I look at them they’re not really my style and I don’t want to see them go to waste” Veronica added on with a smirk on her face.

You thanked her, and promised to wear them on Monday, with some ripped skinny jeans and the crop top as you left her house to work your shift at Pops.

Monday came and you hesitated on the outfit, but you put it on anyway since you weren’t going to let down Ronnie, and weren’t going to let your money go to waste by never wearing the crop top.

You took a quick glance in the mirror and smiled confidently and walked out of your home to get to school.

As you arrived, you felt all eyes on you and it made you slightly uncomfortable until you caught a glimpse of Ronnie and Betty and walked towards them.
“Hey” you said shyly to the blonde and brunette.

They turned to look at you and you heard gasps coming out of their mouth with a wide eyes plastered on their faces.

“My god! (Y/N) you are gorgeous” Betty declared.

“The phoenix rises! (Y/N) you look hot!” Ronnie added on and you couldn’t help but cover your face and giggle as Kevin approached you three by the lockers.

He did a double take not believing it was you until he added to the compliments “Smokin’ (Y/N), if I weren’t gay you’d be on my list” as you all laughed at his words.

You all departed to your classes and plenty of people complimented you on your outfit.

It was the end of the day and you were at your locker, when The Goonies approached you in the empty hallway.

You just gave a huff closing your locker thinking you just might get catcalled, surprised though that Reggie was not with them. You remembered you actually hadn’t seen Reggie with them for a couple of days now.

The Goonies were surrounding you, you couldn’t escape them, and they trapped you against your locker.

Moose spoke up “Look at the ugly duckling thinking she is turning into a goose.”

“Yeah Goose” The other jocks repeated.

“Don’t you mean swan?” You retorted sarcastically.

“Whatever, besides you’d never be a swan” Moose scowled at you “I just wanted you to know that not even like that, no one will even look your way”

“I don’t know” Chuck added on “You’d be a good, onetime thing, don’t you think she’d like maple syrup?”  He spoke to the guys and he creepily caressed your cheek as you swapped his hand off your cheek.

“What do you think freak? Would you like a bit of Chuck in your life” he whispered in your ear.

“You’d really consider this piece of trash?” Moose spoke up

“The thing about trash is, you use it, and then when you’re done with it you throw it away” Chuck gave you a smirk as he turned to collect high fives from the guys and you took it as a chance to flee and go looking for Archie in the locker room to ask him to take you home, or ask him where Jughead was.

As you fled from The Goonies, you heard the collective laughter from the venom filled mouths as you tried to hold in your tears.

You arrived at the locker room and much to your dismay it was empty. You started hearing the rain from the outside and realized they probably cancelled practice.

You sat down in one of the benches and started sobbing, until you felt someone sit next you so you stopped and turned your attention to see who it was. 

“I am so sorry about those jerks” Reggie spoke up as he rubbed his thumbs up to cheeks to rid of the tears “They never did learn how to treat a lady” Reggie added.

“What are you doing?” You questioned him, confused as to why he was being so nice to you when he was the one that bullied your brother.

“I- I am” He stuttered as he grabbed you by the hand, not knowing what to say.

“Wow a speechless Reggie that’s new” you chuckled.

“I’m just really sorry about those assholes, I’ll take care of them though” He smiled at you.

“How?” You asked him.

“Well I am captain of the football team (Y/N)” He stated.

“Why would you help me though? They bullied me, and you bully my brother with them” You spoke up “What’s the difference?” you added on.

“(Y/N) I am really sorry about that, I regret ever being rude to Jughead, I really am” He said with disappointed look on his face.

“Why were you rude to Jug? Does this mean you are going to leave him alone? I noticed you haven’t been hanging out with the guys for a while now” You rambled on, not knowing how to react this soft side of Reggie.

“Um” he mumbled while scratching his head “I kind of have a crush on you” He spoke softly with a small smile on his face.

“What?” You gulped as he caught you by surprise.

“I promise to apologize to Jughead,  I know I was stupid for going down that route” He paused and spoke again “I’ll apologize, I swear, wo- woul- would you go out on a date with me? Please?” He proclaimed with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Only if you apologize to Jug” You smiled at him, surprised to seeing this vulnerable side to Reggie made him so much more handsome.

“Deal, Thank you, I will, I’ll also take care of the idiots who bullied you” Reggie proclaimed as he pulled you in for a hug.

As you two pulled away you started missing his tight hug until Reggie grabbed you by the chin and planted his lips on yours.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies and your lips were in sync with his.

“(Y/N) where are you? Moms going crazy, it is raining and you’re not answering your- uh- phone” Jughead interrupted your kiss with wide eyes and wide mouth plastered on his face and you couldn’t help but smile.

Tags: @sgarrett49 @oharchiekinz 

anonymous asked:

Valentine's Day prompt: cheerleader yuuri

Victor stares at Yuuri, open-mouthed. The bottle of champagne that he’s holding in his left hand almost falls to the floor before he tightens his grip. “Yuuri,” he says, mouth dry.

“Oh, ah, is it not good?” Yuuri asks, blushing hard. He’s looking up at Victor through his thick kohl lashes. “I’ve never been with someone for Valentine’s Day,” Yuuri is honest. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”

Victor preens a little at being the first person Yuuri’s deemed exceptional enough to share a romantic holiday with. But this is their first Valentine’s and whatever he was expecting from his lover, it was not this.

Yuuri continues. “So I checked online. But chocolates and flowers…” he sighs a little. “It didn’t seem personal enough?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” Victor finds his voice. He can’t look away from Yuuri, though. He’s still stuck standing there in their kitchen, looking like an idiot with the bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other.

“I know, but… I wanted to?” Yuuri tells him, bitting his bottom lip. “And the internet told me that giving your lover one of their sexual fantasies was also acceptable.”

Victor whines a little. He’s not sure if he’s more pleased by the word ‘lover’ or ‘sexual fantasy’ on Yuuri’s lips.

“And, well, we haven’t really talked about sexual fantasies?” Yuuri says shyly, which is true because their relationship is still pretty new and Victor hadn’t wanted to scare Yuuri away just yet. “So I looked that up too? And this one seemed to be at the top of most lists.” He pulls at the outfit.

“Oh.” Victor says, swallowing hard and looking Yuuri up and down. He’s barefoot, and long legs bare too, all the way up to the cute little blue, pleated skirt that’s around his waist. His midriff is showing too because he has a matching crop-top shirt on as well. It’s the prettiest cheerleading outfit Victor has ever seen. (Although that might just be because Yuuri’s wearing it so well.)

He looks adorable, staring out of his glasses that match his outfit, fidgeting under Victor’s gaze. Victor doesn’t even dare ask where Yuuri got it from (because if he hears anything close to ‘Yurio helped’, the whole scene will be ruined). 

“Is it okay?” Yuuri asks, looking like he’s about to panic.

That’s Victor’s cue to snap out of the trance he’s in. He carefully puts the glasses and champagne on the kitchen island out of the way. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a fantasy like this before,” he purrs. Yuuri looks upset for a second before Victor continues, “But now that I’ve seen you in such a cute outfit, I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about it. You make such a perfect cheerleader, Yuuri.”

Yuuri blushes as Victor stalks towards him, grabbing at the hem of the skirt. Fuck do Yuuri’s legs look amazing. And his bellybutton is calling out to be kissed.

Victor hums in appreciation, Yuuri looks even better up close. “Are you going to come to the rink dressed like that now? Will you cheer for me from the sidelines like that? Ahhh, how perfect.”

Yuuri’s cheeks are flushed pink. “Victor-” he murmurs, but he doesn’t stop Victor from running his hand up under the top to touch one of Yuuri’s nipples.

“Do you have a routine to show me, then?” Victor asks, raising one eyebrow.

Yuuri licks his lips and Victor can’t help himself - he leans forward to kiss him. His heart feels full. Yuuri went to all this trouble for him. Had put himself out there - not knowing if Victor would enjoy it or not. Which is ridiculous, really, because Victor’s going to like anything Yuuri does for him. 

“If you let me finish-” Yuuri says when they both pull away from the kiss, breathing a little faster than before, “-I could tell you that I have pom pom’s in the bedroom.”

“Lets go, then, I want to see your cheerleading Eros,” Victor teases.

Yuuri laughs, his nervousness gone now that Victor’s shown whole-hearted interest. He winks at Victor as he heads towards their bedroom, bypassing the wide windows and the view of St. Petersburg that had been part of Victor’s plans for tonight. This is so much better though, and the champagne will keep until they’re finished. 

Victor thanks the Valentine’s day gods (if there are any) for the way the skirt flips up in the back as Yuuri walks, showing off the round edges of Yuuri’s ass. “Gimme a ‘D’,” Victor mutters, following his partner into the bedroom.