i got to shake hands with them

i say “straight cis men are spoiled, that’s all. spoiled brats.”

my father bristles. “oh, so i can say the reverse of that? how would you feel if i called your entire gender something like that?”

like what? like bitch? like hysterical? like keep your voice down, don’t get crazy, don’t be one of those girls, come on, just say yes to me. like what? like needy, like over-emotional, like high maintenance? 

i say, “i know what it feels like.”

he says, “men just want things and you’re pretending being denied those things doesn’t hurt.”

oh i know it hurts. but when i hurt, i hurt myself. i cut into the lip of my body and rip out all the good things. when i hurt, i blame myself. when boys around me hurt, they hurt me. come at me with fists and knives and screaming. trap me on trains while they shout names at me. lock me in the car when i try to leave. hold me down and ignore the begging.

i say, “it does. but, while women can be toxic and abusive, i find that denying a man something is like telling a spoiled child they can’t have a toy for being good.”

on my tongue are stories that don’t seem to break the pattern. stories i know other women have. men who wanted me because i was nice to them, men who wanted me because they were nice to me, men who turned equally quickly into beasts, howling about their lacking, how i owed them, how they could take advantage of me, how, like bread and water, they were starved of me. of course i should give in, how dare i let them go hungry, how selfish it was of me. 

my father says, “when. there are tons of perfectly fine men and just as many bad women. you’ve worked in retail. you’ve complained about them.”

oh, yes. i’ve had my humanity dragged through the dirt by that-kind-of-haircut, by “speak to your manager”, by still-in-the-store-an-hour-after-closing. i’ve been screamed at and serenaded by swear words. i’ve had women look like they were about to pop a blood vessel. 

none of those women ever followed me to a car. none of those women ever wrote down my name just to find me on facebook. none of those women ever followed me home, sniffed at my neck, told me how pretty i’d look naked. oh, i’m sure they wanted to kill me. but they didn’t make it about how much they’d debase me. it was a clean threat, a cold knife. 

it’s a hard thing to explain. that i knew if these women went for me, it wasn’t because of my gender, and that made those threats differ. the same way that if they had been threatening me for being gay, it would have been scary. i was just in the wrong place when they hated me. they didn’t hate me because of my identity.

i clear my throat. “a spoiled woman wants what i’m not giving her, sure. but i can usually calm her down by helping and understanding. and we’re talking about the difference between being denied an object and being denied access to my body.”

my father snorts. “i think you’re blowing this out of proportion.” 

there’s an entire group of men on reddit that we’ve just come to accept as thinking of women as objects. it’s not a small group, either, but what are you going to do. they write each other novels about how women are all animals who need to be controlled, how they’re “involuntarily celibate”, that we’ve denied them all. and how somehow, that denial is our fault. there’s been murders because men were mad they couldn’t have women. mass murders. serial murders. and so many of them were straight violence: not for the intention of killing, but of dragging out the sorrow of it. did you know rape isn’t about sex, it’s about power.

my mouth hurts. i tell him, “you should see how they act when you’re in a position of power above them.” 

how they are when they find out a hispanic female got the job. how they are when it’s me, and i’m not even five foot three, and they know they can intimidate me. how it is when they raise voices over me, and sit on my desk, and come into my room without asking, and ask who i blew in order to get here, and ask to see my resume because obviously i was given the job for diversity and not my three years experience, and ask if i’d be their office affair, and stretch themselves to expand, like a balloon, filling, filling. how their voices pop, “stole my job,” “affirmative action is reverse racism,” “i’m going to bend her over one of these days and show her who’s boss.”

my father shrugs. “if it bothers you so much, stop listening to them.”

in three days from this conversation, one of my friends will text me that a guy pulled a knife on her in a bar because she said no. in two days from this conversation, i will have someone pull up my skirt. on the day of this conversation, three of my friends and i will get wine drunk and cackle over white boys texting and their dick pics and demands for love. when they say things like “you’re a slut and i fucking hate you and i hope you die” when she says no, we laugh. when my skirt comes up, i laugh. when my friend is at knifepoint, she laughs.

did you know laughter is a fear response. 

to my father i say, “just watch. watch what happens when a woman says no.”

he shakes his head. “god, where do you even get this stuff?”

i want to live in a world where i got this from nowhere. where it’s just a figment. where i’ve never met men in the wild, only read about them, and their hands, and their ability to take things from me without feeling sorry. i want to live in a world where other women are confused about the accusations, haven’t experienced the same thing, or haven’t heard the same thing from the women close to them. i want to live in a world where it’s fake, because they treat us like it’s fake; instead of living where it’s this giant open secret like a blood boil, pulsing, a shush of things we’ve learned to answer with laughing, a big burn mark we’ve all been through but is somehow not counted as scarring. i want to live in a world where i’m making up my experiences for want of them; where i’ve never been kissed or touched or groped without my permission, where i don’t fear trains and enclosed spaces. the world i see so many men live in; where it might be a concern on their periphery, but not enough to warrant attention.

“you’d see it too,” i say through his words, “if you just stopped and listened.”

Ok so, the director of the Jojo anime, Naokatsu Tsuda, did a Q&A at anime boston and he had a lot of very cool things to talk about! I also got to ask him a question, get a photo with him, and shake his hand so that was pretty exciting.

It was interesting to hear that Araki had approached them when they started part 4 to ask them to add in the foreshadowing scenes with Kira, because when he was writing it he didn’t know who the main villain would be, and if he had known, this is how he would have wanted it to have been.

He said the color schemes for the characters were based off the medicos palettes because those are Araki approved, and that they wanted to add in those color changes because 1) no other anime does that and 2) he felt like everyone reading it had different visions of the colors and wanted to include that feeling it in.

His favorite openings were the first one and Great Days, and he talked about how usually directors don’t get a say in the openings but he got to choose the style of music and the feel for the openings. He also mentioned he couldn’t legally say which songs he wished he could have used for the endings but he had a lot.

Usually, animes come out before games, so the VA’s from the anime carry over to the game, however since All Star Battle was out before the anime, what they did was they allowed those VA’s re-audition for their rolls, however since game voices are recorded alone, and anime is recorded together in a group, they cast VA’s based on how well the teams meshed together, which was why some VA’s were chosen differently for the anime. They wanted to have a team that sounded good all together.

He also said the first opening included all the Jojos because he wanted to promise the fans that he would animate them all. He really wants to do all the parts, and said it really helps if we show the companies like Warner that we have an interested in them by doing things like writing in! So please let them know you want more Jojo!! He asked us all to please send comments in!

Anyway, my own question was which part he would be most excited to animate and he said part 8. And then facetiously asked how we all knew part 8 if it wasn’t officially translated which we all nervously laughed at. I mentioned I owned ultra jumps and that iggy keychain that came with one of them and he said he had that too.

Quotes from Harry Styles’ Interview

Writing for his album

“I started the album end of Feb last year for about three weeks and then had to stop for about 5 months when I went to do a movie. I came back to it in July and finished writing it in December. For a while before all I thought about it was stressing about what it was going to be. It gave me a chance to completely step away from it for a bit and have a real break. By the end of the movie, because we were swimming so much I just wanted to write songs…I think we wrote about 70 songs - we did 50 songs and ideas in Jamaica and that’s including like little ideas. Well full songs, I say there are 30 songs probably. One of the songs on the album, I wrote a few years ago.”

On his album

“I was with the guys who I was writing it with and we just wanted to make what we wanted to listen to and that has been the most fun part for me about making the whole album. In the least weird way possible, it’s my favourite album to listen to at the moment… I hope we did a good job but I really like the album so I hope people like it. I think if you put out something that you don’t stand behind and really love, then if it doesn’t go well then you could regret not doing what you wanted to do. Whereas if nothing happens with it, I love it you know so I think that’s what you should do. I think that’s been my favourite part to the overall thing is listening to the album and making all the changes – it has been fun to watch over it all.”

Writing in Jamaica

“I just wanted to not be somewhere that I’d get distracted. It was 360 of writing, you’d go home for dinner, write at the house then go back to the studio. I liked being away from everything and doing it like that.”

About his debut single

“It’s a bit weird, I feel like I’ve been hibernating for so long now and you hear it in the safety of the studio and now it’s time to give birth … it’s the song (debut single) I’m most proud of writing.”

About making it on his own

“I’ve been hibernating trying to get it all ready, that’s been fun, but I like this bit as well. I think it’s gonna be fun, it’s gonna be good. It’s not like I’m travelling on my own now, I have a band and everything and they’re amazing.”

Ed Sheeran

“I played him (Sheeran) a few songs after the album was finished. He didn’t say that he didn’t like any, but he did like one song that isn’t on the album. So I did have a bit of a minute of like hmmm no but…”

On Adele

“I’ve spoken to her a little bit, she knows one of the guys that I wrote it with (his music) a lot. But I don’t think so much advice, I just like how she does stuff. I think she leads by example, she’s the biggest, she’s amazing, she’s the best so she should be the biggest. The thing with her is she’s a different thing, she’s just good at it, I like how she does everything, it looks very nice. For my 21st she gave me one of her albums 21 and said, ‘I did some pretty cool stuff when I was 21, good luck’ and I was like, 'geez’.”

On Dating

“I haven’t dated in a long time really because I went away to do the movie then did the album so I haven’t in a while. I have a couple of candles left still though. 

Whether dating when famous is hard

“I don’t know, maybe. I feel like with all of the stuff how people date now, with all online stuff, I feel like you can do that (Google) with anyone really if you’re looking at someone’s profile before seeing them. It’s kinda the same… No, I used to (research dates), then I said I’m not going to do that anymore, it’s impossible to go in without a perception of someone and you’ve never met them and I started feeling like that was wrong and weird. I think I snore, and also I quite like routine, so I don’t know if I’m ­incredibly spontaneous.”

Cutting his hair for Dunkirk

“I felt very naked for a while. I was like yeah, I’ve gotta shave my hair off. It wasn’t a hard decision, it got made into a wig.”

Why he rarely tweets

“I don’t like saying something for the sake of it.”

Life at home and work

“The first time I went home not wearing trainers, I was in a pair of boots. Someone said, ‘What the bloody hell are they?’ I like to separate working and being at home with family.”

Staying grounded

“It’s easier in the way that I like to separate stuff from working and being at home with family and stuff. When you separate it it’s easier to see it for what it is. When you let it become everything and that’s your whole life, then it’s easy to get a bit lost in it. I’m lucky, I have amazing friends and my family’s amazing so I think they make it easier to keep the separation between the two which makes it easier for me.”

Being nervous about playing his music to others

“I think it’s nerve-racking in that I’ve only played it to like 10 people in a room. I try and not be there if I’m playing it…”

His mother and step-father’s reactions to the album

“I played the album to them the first time and there’s one song that’s got a vocal effect on it, the whole album finished then my stepdad said: ‘I’ve one question, where did you get the duck from, how did you get a duck in the studio?’ I was like: ‘That was me, thanks’. My Mum liked it which was handy. She cried a couple of times which was good, I think that was good.”

Musical Influences

“I think it’s hard to not have influencers from what you grew up listening on. I think everyone reacts differently to different types of music. I had a good range between my mum and dad… my dad listened to Fleetwood, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd and Queen. My mum was like Norah Jones and Savage Garden. There are a lot of melodies there.”

Being starstruck by other celebrities

“I remember the first time we went to an awards show in the US, we met Will Smith. It was a brief meeting – he was nice and very tall.”

Addressing the rumour about getting a sheep placenta facial

“No I’ve never had a sheep placenta facial.”

Rumours about Hobama

“I’m not allowed to talk about that.”

Rumour on taking his dates on helicopter rides

“No I’ve never done that,” Harry says, with Grimmy responding: “Not even with Barack?”

“No,“ Harry says. “It was his helicopter, haha.”

Talking about Chris Martin

“He’s lovely isn’t he? He is good at telling you to take care of yourself. I think he makes sure you are alright and is very zen. I think he is a pretty wonderful man.”

On Ronnie Wood

“Big fan, I love Ronnie Wood – I think I met him at a dinner party a few years ago and went to a couple of Stones shows…I think he is the nicest.”

Interviewing Paul McCartney for his Another Man issue

“It was amazing – his voice sounds like a song.”

Loving scented candles

“I mean I think everyone loves scented candles. But I usually take one from home if I’m travelling.”

About sprouts being the new kale

“I went two days ago. I got some spinach, eggs, OJ, milk, turkey and some brussels sprouts. Hmm what else did I buy…oh some Crème Eggs. I like putting sprouts in a curry and I like sauteing them. I think they are going to be the new kale. I met [someone] and I asked her what she did and she said ‘I’m the PR lady for Kale’ and I was like ‘good job then.”

Talking about his four nipples

“Still got them, managed to keep them. Maybe I just hide them in limited edition albums, like golden tickets. I’ll hold onto them.”

Best trait

“Best trait I don’t know, it’s weird to pick your best, shall we go with the nipples thing.”

On where not to ask him for a selfie

“I think in toilets is the weirdest one. It’s happened a couple of times… When someone tries to shake your hand right after having a wee, ‘I might wash my hands first’.”

About Liam’s son and being a potential godfather

“I spoke to Liam and he’s loving it. He said it’s going really well and everyone’s great. So I’m very happy for him. I think it’s a roll of the dice, there are a lot of people Liam has in mind. I’m not going to add any extra pressure. If it came my way I would be honoured.”

Imagine your boss, Dean Winchester, flirting with you every time he can.

“And last but far from least-” you let a small sigh, looking at the door in case someone was coming “Mr Fury asked to see you.”

“Fury? As in Nick Fury?” Dean raised and eyebrow, his interest peaking.

“Exactly. It either has to do with the damage you and Mr Stark caused on your small trip around town or-”

Dean chuckled, leaning back in his chair “Come on (Y/n), we were drunk!”

“That does not justify it. On the contrary, it was reckless to go take his suits while being drunk.” you said with a pointed look and his smile turned into a softer one.

“You know-” he leaned forward so that he was closer to you “I love it when you care so much about me.”

“Mr Winchester.” you scolded softly, not meeting his eyes but still unable to hide a small smile from your face.

“I thought that by now we had agreed on that, sweetheart. It’s Dean.” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“You know that can’t happen, Mr Winchester.” you mumbled, starting to place all of his files in place. Anything to keep you occupied from looking him in the eyes “I’m your assistant.”

“Well then we can arrange that. I could always fire you.” he gave you a cheeky grin as with wide eyes your head snapped to him.

“What?” you stood there frozen for a second until he started laughing at your expression.

“Just kidding. There’s no way on Earth I would fire my most trusted worker.” he shook his head “Besides, this enterprises would crumble down without you here to be honest.”

“Glad you appreciate my job then, Mr Winchester.” you chuckled with a small sigh of relief, shaking your head at your boss.

He rolled his eyes for a moment “That’s just not going to go away easily, is it?” he huffed, almost disappointed and you bit the inside of your cheek; still not looking at him.

“Wish it could.” you mumbled and saw him from the corner of your eye get up and walk towards you.

“You know it can-” you almost jumped at how close he had gotten without you realizing it, his breath only fanning over your cheek and his hand on your back “It’s all up to you.”

“Mr Winchester please-” you glanced at the door nervously “Someone might walk in. I just- I don’t want them to think I am taking advantage of-”

“Of who? Me? Sweetheart by all means, do so.” he gave you a boyish grin and you couldn’t stop a chuckle at his words, shaking your head.

“No. Of the time I spend with you. I- I worked hard to get this position.”

“I know, I saw it for myself.” he frowned slightly “That’s why you got the promotion.”

“Yeah, well if they see us like this they’re not going to think exactly that Mr Winchester. I don’t want people to assume I am here because I am sleeping with my boss.” you placed a hand on his chest, regretting it but still pushing him away. You couldn’t even dare look him in the eyes, you couldn’t take the heartbroken look on his face.

“But they don’t have to see us, if that’s the problem.” he suggested after a long pause and you frowned.

“What?”

“I mean if that’s what you’re most scared of- we don’t really have to tell everyone. Let them find out on our wedding day.” he added with a wink and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Mr Winchester-” you started with a small whine but you knew you didn’t have an excuse good enough. Honestly you were mostly trying to convince yourself that you couldn’t be with him than him in the first place. Besides, it was your own feelings you had been battling with mostly these days than your boss’s advances and flirty remarks.

“Come on, just give me a chance. You’ll see I’m not that bad!” he threw his arms in the air and you bit your lip.

“Mr-” you stopped yourself “Dean, I know you’re not.” you confessed looking him in the eyes “And I know that if the circumstances were different- I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. Especially after such a surprise.” you added with a chuckle and he grinned.

“You like them?” he remembered the flowers he had sent to your apartment. One of his many attempts in getting you “Took my brother’s advice in it.”

“The flowers were amazing, really.” you admitted “But I was mostly referring to the sweets, especially the pie.”

“Well, that one was my idea actually.” he confessed, full of pride and you giggled.

“Oh I bet!” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Say-” he spoke up, a hand again being placed on your back “How about I take you out… for pie and burgers and we can make a fresh start?”

“Dean” you sighed “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Hell to no.” he confessed.

“May I ask you- why are you so interested in me? Up until a few months ago I was just one of the secretaries until I became your personal assistant. But still- nothing more.” you dared look him in the eyes, only to see confusion written all over his face.

“I think we’ve made it clear that you got this position because you are the only one that actually puts effort into their work. Plus, you’re the only one that knows me so well and doesn’t dress up on purpose to show off and turn me on.” he shrugged, before pressing you close to him “That happens either way.” he added and you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness.

“I’m only wearing a white blouse and pencil shirt.” you mumbled.

“As I said- too fucking hot.” he growled almost in your ear and for the first time you let him kiss your cheek without you pushing him away.

“Dean” the way his name left your lips was definitely something you weren’t planning on.

Dean grinned widely “See? Already getting there-” he licked his lips “Do you really want to know why I am so interested in you?” he said in a low rough voice “Because you’re special. Because every morning you have walked in my office, hair a mess, no make up on and clothes a little a little wrinkled with a few buttons undone-” he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming your body “I can only think of how gorgeous you look, and how I’d love to see this sight every fucking morning. Especially after an intense night of-” he paused grinning up at you, only to see a hint of red on your cheeks.

“Gosh I would so love that.” he breathed out huskily, his breath tingling your lips as his face stood only a few inches away from yours.

“I’m- I’m not that-”

“I swear to god, if you complete that sentence I am just going to grab you and prove you wrong right here and now in any way you can imagine.” he said with a slight growl and you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling yourself shiver when his hands started traveling. You couldn’t deny you liked it a little too much.

“Do you even know the things you do to me when you lean over my desk?” he whispered, resting his forehead on the side of your head; his lips brushing past your ear “With those tight, black skirts. I’ve had such a fucking hard time concentrating during meetings just because of you. You don’t even have to touch me, hell not even say something and I know I am a goner. I can’t think straight when you are in the same room. And gosh, you’re not even doing it on purpose. You’re so clueless.” he grinned “So adorably clueless.”

“Mr Winchester” you whispered, fisting his suit jacket in your hand.

“And the way you say that- I hated it so much at first, it felt like you put a wall between us. I still do but at the same time-it sounds so innocent, so unintentional that you can’t realize how cute and hot it sounds at the same time.” he chuckled and you bit your lip.

“And as if all of that is not enough you- you are such an amazing woman. You actually listen to me when I need it, you try to understand me and you- you love rock too. You listen to me ramble about my car when my own brother always tries to make me shut up when I do. You actually know so much about me, every side of me, that no other woman I’ve been with has ever known. And that’s only because you are the one interested.”

“I can’t help it you know.” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“I know. Trust me baby, I know.” he breathed out, cupping your face and before you had the time to react he crashed his lips to yours.

ok but kara thinking “i can’t do this” and shaking her head at alex, and alex putting her hand on the glass “you got this” and kara trying again with this newfound determination?? the two of them looking directly at each other and kara finding all of this strength inside her bc alex is in this ship and alex believes in her and alex thinks she can do this so she definitely can, and then the ship is stopped and kara slumps against the window and both of their hands are reaching toward each other without them even thinking about it, and i’m so glad the writers remembered what the heart of this show is

No Kissing In Front Of Me *Steve Harrington x Reader*

Originally posted by wlntrfell

Requested by Anon: Steve Harrington x Reader where you’re Dustin’s older sister and Dustin has Steve over to babysit him bc Reader is supposed to be out on a date but she comes home like halfway through with like super ready eyes and tells them she found out he’s cheating on her because he stood her up to go with the other girl or something
Pairings: Dustin Henderson x Sibling! Reader & Billy Hargrove x Reader (Mentioned briefly) & Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 
A/N: I couldn’t be bothered to make up a name for the reader to possibly be on a date with. Billy is someone that comes across as a cheating, maybe not taking the relationship with reader seriously, type. - Rosalie



“Why are you even going out with that jackass?” Dustin asked, watching you through the vanity mirror reflection as you got ready for your date. You muttered a soft ‘language’ to your little brother who just scoffed. “You can date anyone, literally, ANYBODY! But you go out, willingly, with Billy Hargrove?”

You sighed gently as you finished with your make up. You had been going out on a few dates with the new guy, well he wasn’t new anymore, he and his sister had been here for a few months. You didn’t really get why Dustin and his party hated him, he was kind of an asshole but so was everyone else in this town. Dustin always said, ‘There are just things that I know that you don’t, I don’t trust him’. You liked he was looking out for you but you’re the older sibling, it should be the other way round.

“Why do you hate him so much? Enough with the bullshit, what happened to make you hate him?” Dustin shrugged, shoulders slumped and eyes cast to his hands as he toyed with your comforter on your bed. “I’m going on that date, Dustin. Whatever you think of him isn’t true, he’s been nothin’ but nice to me. He doesn’t pressure me for anythin’ and he’s really sweet too. Tell me what happened and I won’t go on that date, if you tell me what happened with Billy I’ll call him off.”

Before Dustin can even open his mouth the doorbell chimes, you raise your eyebrows but Dustin sighs. You both stand up, you’re dressed in a pale pink dress with a denim jacket thrown on. Dustin opens the door, revealing Steve Harrington, his babysitter for the night, plus a new founded best friend. It was cute, how both he and Steve had a brotherly bond. They looked out for one another, it made you smile to see Dustin finally have someone to look up to, admire and Steve was someone that you trusted to lead your brother in a good direction.

You smiled as Steve looked at you. “Wow, Y/N, you look… wow.” He compliments, at loss for words and it brings a slight blush upon your cheeks as you roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you both in a few hours. Don’t miss me too much,” You grin waving bye at both of them and walking out of the door.

*Steve’s P.O.V kinda*

Steve stared at the door as it closed softly, watching you leave to go on a date with Billy Hargrove always rubbed him the wrong way. Knowing that someone as kind, sweet and genuinely good was hanging around with the asshole Billy, made Steve feel sick to his stomach. His blood boiled at the thought of it, it left a funny after taste in Steve’s mouth whenever you talked about your dates with Billy.

“Steve!” Dustin’s voice pulled Steve from his mind and he looked at the shithead and shrugged his shoulders in response. “Jealousy back again?”

Steve rolled his eyes and sat down, Dustin had got into his pea-sized brain that Steve was jealous. Jealous that Billy got to date you and not him, which was ridiculous. Steve Harrington doesn’t get jealous, he doesn’t even know why he’d be jealous. It’s just you. Dustin’s older sister. Who was sweet, kind and beautiful, who had this thing where if she laughs too hard she hiccups?

“I’m not jealous of Billy Hargrove,” Steve states, turning the TV on and looking at the VHS movies that Dustin had picked to watch tonight. “What do I have to be jealous about?”

Dustin rolled his eyes, sitting down also. “Are you pretending to be dumb or are you actually this stupid all of the time?” That receives a stern glare from Harrington, “I know she’s my sister but I am told constantly that she’s beautiful, plus she has to be somewhat good looking because ” Dustin gestures to his smiling face and Steve tries not to chuckle at that. “It’s okay if you like-like her, better you than Billy.”

Steve puts in the movie and that leaves him to think over what Dustin has said. He glances at Dustin who is consumed by the movie, mouth slightly agape as he fully zoned in on the SyFy movie. Steve had grown accustomed to life with the kids, looking after the little shits was now just second nature to him. You were sort of a package deal, you didn’t know about any of the events with the upside down world but you managed to still be part of their lives. You were sort of an innocence that everyone loved, you knew something has happened but you preferred to not know.

It’s for the better that way. Steve liked that you weren’t carrying any of the weight, that you managed to still be a supportive person but in a way that was different for everyone. It was hard to keep that life away from you, it’s partly why he hates you are dating Billy. If you knew what had happened, you wouldn’t be dating him but he had made a promise. To the boys, to Eleven, to Hopper and Joyce to not tell.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I dated Y/N?” Steve asked, eyes trained on the TV. “I know she’s dating Billy but if that didn’t work out-”

“Steve, you have my permission to date my sister. No kissing in front of me, that’s all I ask.” Steve smiles slightly and both go back to watching the movie, halfway in when the front door crashes open. “Son-of-a-bitch!” Dustin yells, turning his head to see his sister standing in the doorway, he holds his hand over his heart.

It takes both boys a few seconds to realise you’re crying. Eyes red, small sobs escaping your lips and you throw your purse to the floor and pull off your shoes, running past them towards your room ignoring their yells of your name. Steve looks at Dustin who is just as shocked as he is by your outburst.

“You don’t think Billy…” Dustin trails off, instantly Steve is to his feet and Dustin follows him down the short hall to your door where Steve knocks on the door. “Y/N, we’re coming in!” Dustin yells, knowing you never lock your door anyway.

Steve opens the door silently and both peak in. Your laying on your bed, hair a mess of curls and crying into a pillow. Dustin walks passed Steve, sitting down beside your head and petting your hair softly, trying to comfort you silently. Steve awkwardly sits down, placing a hand on the small of your back and rubbing comforting circles. They wait till your sobs had quieted down, listening to cry was one of the worst things Steve has endured. Yeah, he’s had to fight demogorgons but this was another level.

“Y/N, what happened?” Steve asked and you lifted your head, hair sticking your tear stained cheeks that are red and blotchy. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, anger swept through them but also sadness. “Did Billy… do something… like-”

“No.” You shake your head, fresh tears welling in your eyes. “He turned up with another girl, with Stacy. He’s been seeing her behind my back, cause I wasn’t putting out.” Dustin’s face flashed with anger. “I’m such a stupid shit head!” You groaned, accepting the hug from your little brother and Steve scoffed, causing both Henderson siblings to look at him.

Steve shakes his head. “Billy is the shithead. You deserve better than him, got it? A guy like that isn’t worth your tears, you’re too good for him. If he can’t keep it in his pants that’s his fault, not yours.” You raised your eyebrows at Steve, who crossed his arms and glared at the wall opposite him. “I should punch him in the face again for doing that to you.”

“Again?” You asked slightly amused that he had even punched Billy for the first time. Dustin looks wide-eyed at Steve who does the same, you sighed. “Need to know, right?” They nod and smiled slightly. “Thank you, both of you for being here. I think I’m going to call it a night.” They nod, Dustin gets up and leaves the room first but Steve hesitates, making you look at him slightly confused.

He shuffles slightly nervously. “Y/N… have a good sleep.” Steve sighs before leaving your room, kicking himself for not saying anything to you about his true feelings.

*

It had been almost a week since that godawful date with Billy. You tried to keep yourself occupied, extra schoolwork and hanging out with Nancy. The humiliation of that day was what hurt you the most, Billy had let you believe the date was still on, he didn’t cancel or say anything about what was happening with Stacy. He let you walk in, alone and see him with another girl like he planned it or something.

Walking down the street towards your house you hear arguing. Well, more of bickering between two people. You glance up to see Steve and Dustin in the driveway of your home, Dustin was meant to be at Mike’s studying and Steve, well he was meant to be off being Steve somewhere else- having a day off from being the kid’s mom. You frown as you walk closer, Steve is holding roses and Dustin has his radio headset on, seemingly talking over it whilst simultaneously walking to Steve.

“What’s going on?” You asked walking closer, Dustin jumps slightly and turns to you with a nervous smile. “I thought you were going to Mike’s tonight?” You asked with a slight frown at his reaction.

It’s a solid minute before anyone speaks up. “I’m helping Steve… he’s got a date.” You nod slowly and glance at Steve, who is nervously stood holding the roses and smiling awkwardly. A pang of something shoots through your chest, whoever he was taking on a date was a lucky girl.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, “Well, have fun and don’t take all of my brother’s advice.” You try to chuckle and smile but it sounds forced, you go to walk around them and inside the house, to cry to your mother but you’re stopped by someone tugging on your wrist.

You frown up at Steve. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” You nod and turn back towards Steve, waiting for whatever he needs to say, he stares at you for a moment. “Fuck it!”

Before you can process what is happening his lips are on yours, his hands holding your shoulders and the roses fall to the floor beside your feet. You instantly respond, melting into the kiss that’s unlike anything you’ve ever had. You feel Steve smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours rest against his neck.

“GROSS!” You pull apart and look at Dustin, who is horrified. “I said no kissing in front of me, that was the only rule. You asshole.” he picks up his bike, muttering curse words and names at Steve, “one fucking rule, can even follow that. I do everything to help this guy, this is how he repays me.”

Steve purses his lips and holds back the chuckle. “Thank you, shithead,” Steve calls, Dustin turns and flips him off before riding off down the street to Mikes. “It was worth breaking that one rule.” Steve shrugged at you, you chuckled lightly nudging him, he bends down and picks up the roses again. “Prepare to go on the best date of your life.” He challenges, pulling you by your hand towards his car.

“Is this the first time you’ve hung out with someone your own age in a while?” You smirk as Steve blinks at you, mock offence. “How will they survive without you?”

Steve rolled his eyes, opening your door before walking around to his side and starting the engine to the car. It’s silent as he begins to drive off towards your date destination, “I do need to stop in to make sure they all get home okay.” He mutters causing you to chuckle at him, he sighs and chuckles along with you.

(Decided to end it funny. Hopefully, whoever requested this likes it. I had fun writing it, I like the whole Dustin’s sister thing, I like writing the reader as one of the kids sibling. - Rosalie)

Good Girls Go Bad

Set in the 40’s. Y/N was your stereotypical girl next door, growing up in the apartment right across the hall from James Buchanan Barnes. She had always been the shy, reserved girl; she was the complete opposite of the enigmatic ladies man. Despite their proximity, she was sure that he didn’t even know she existed. What happens when they run into one another during a night out on the town? Is just one night all it really takes? 

Word Count: 3,408

Warnings: swearing, smut


Originally posted by evanstansource


You sighed, adjusting your dress as you gazed into the mirror. Even though it was still rather conservative, you couldn’t help but notice that it was more revealing than you were used to. The neckline plunged rather low, the collar fastened with a bow that drew attention to your cleavage. The waist was cinched, showing off your figure. Paired with the red heels that your friends had chosen for you, you were looking like a regular bombshell. Your friends had insisted that you go out with them tonight. You had turned them down too many times. They said that now, of all days, you had to accompany them. The newest army recruits would be shipping out tomorrow, and it was sure to be a lively night.

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Mile High Club

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, blowjobs

Word Count: 785

Prompt: The reader finds a quick way to calm Dean down during a flight.

Beta: @impala-dreamer

Originally posted by wellcometothedarkside

“Dean, you need to calm down. You’re freakin’ everyone out here,” Sam grumbled, punching his brother’s shoulder. “It’s a plane, not the Titanic.”

“Planes can crash,” Dean countered. “The Titanic sunk, it’s possible that this metal thing could just blow up any second.”

A woman in front of Dean turned around, shooting him a glare as she tried to comfort her young son who was now about as freaked out as Dean. “Planes are built to fly. They always check them before they go up,” she stated matter-of-factly. The second she turned her back, Dean was mocking her. This time you punched his arm.

The plane hit a bit of turbulence in the air, and you grit your teeth when Dean’s nails sunk into your arm. “Release the death grip, my arm’s gonna fall off.” He sighed, unleashing your arm. “C’mon, let’s go see if we can get you some water.” You suggested, having had enough of Dean’s panic.

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Vive el Momento (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Requested: No, but @illuminateshawn and I live for drunk, festival Mendes in that red shirt from Amsterdam.

Word count: 4,947

“Can I have three large beers, thanks” I smiled, handing the girl in front of me my money. The sun was burning into my back, heating up my entire body slowly.

“I just love this weather” my friend Julia said. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to fully enjoy the warm rays of sun burning in her face.

“Me too” I agreed, looking around the festival filled with drunk people having fun everywhere.

To me, this was what summer was all about; heat, friends, music and beers. Actually, going to festivals was my happy place, I loved the whole idea of just letting go and enjoy yourself as much as possible; meeting new people and staying up until the early hours when the sun rose again.

“Girl, don’t look now but that guy… he’s looking again” Julia laughed, taking of her black sunglasses.

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anonymous asked:

Eren in 3B

I hATE that I got this request after I had closed them but it was one of the few I actually wanted to draw from this thing so imagine me handing this to u while simultaneously shaking my fist at u

it gets easier to talk about but it also gets harder to talk about. i have to unfold things carefully, but the map shows better. here’s the first time i got hit by a parent, here’s the first time i got hit by a partner. they’re around the corner from each other, mirror images or hands holding or two sides of a blade. the look on people’s faces always is the same when they find out. like the words hurt them in the pit of their stomach. i feel bad when it does that; i know what it’s like to be suckerpunched. often i comfort people right after: oh, no, it’s okay, i’m okay now, it’s fine, i’m all in one piece, i got out, i’m a resilience child, i learned kindness, i found inner peace, i meditate twice a day, i do yoga and drink kale shakes and eat as if nobody ever made my teeth bleed. some of these are lies, but that is fine too, because it’s better that people don’t know an ugly truth.

sometimes i forget who in the room knows. i laugh about what happened like a punchline (get it) and people stare at me with mouths open like moons. oh my god, did that really happen to you? i don’t know. sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, out on a distant planet. sometimes it feels like it never happened at all. sometimes it feels like it’s still happening. how can you laugh at that? and is that true? how do i say “because if i don’t laugh it’s serious” because of course it’s true. for proof: raise your hand a fraction too smooth. watch the shadow pass over my face. watch me curl away. watch me change. like a chameleon girl, i shift my shape. someone who doesn’t know laughs. you’re certainly jumpy. the girl at the table who helped me cover the bruise stares at me, watching my chest, trying to figure out if i’m panicking. he’s confused when quiet are you okay questions touch my skin - only those who know, only those who are watching.

and i smile, because it’s easier to talk about but it’s harder to admit it still effects me. memories should be left in the kingdom of dreams. sometimes i feel like i should be done with it already. i stare at a picture of cartoons that says if you don’t know these, you didn’t have a childhood. i know all but two of them. some of them i watched after it happened. i really liked scooby doo. in the end, the mask comes off and the bad guy is revealed and he goes to jail. in real life, i wait for someone to come take his mask off. it just makes him mean. the blue lights of the law never show up on the green of our lawn. i had a pretty good childhood, i think. it made me interesting, at least. i picked blueberries.

i laugh about it a lot. talk about how it’s funny that if you got abused there’s just, like, a second round of partner abuse, sitting out there, waiting for you. that you’re the most likely to pick an abuser from the crowd - or worse, like beauty and the beast, watch yourself become her. see your rotten hands and think of your father. isn’t that funny! that i can take a hit and i’d rather take a lifetime of them than be the one doing the giving just once. i talk about how you walk in the eclipse of it. that it confuses you when the sun comes out. that when you find someone who won’t hurt you, you still walk on eggshells, waiting for them to hurt you. i say it through a smile, because if you bend yourself the right way, your life looks more like comedy-drama than just plain tragedy. i watch fantastic beasts and where to find them and when the abused child turns out to be beyond saving, i hear myself laugh in a bark. or it was a sob. i can’t tell. it doesn’t matter. in my world, children like me learned about magic early, and how our own actions can turn a man from a gentle person into a savage beast. 

okay, i say, smiling, maybe if you put it that way, yeah, i was abused and it wasn’t funny. but come on. think of the puns! you could say my life was really a hit! now don’t be upset. it’s funny. it’s funny. it’s funny.

anonymous asked:

Au where petunia is a witch and lily is a muggle?

When the letter arrives, Lily is almost as excited as Petunia. She writes Albus Dumbledore to ask if she can go to, and if she cries a little when the answer comes back no she doesn’t tell anyone. Lily waves from the train platform, writes diligently, and listens with excitement whenever her big sister deigns to share stories of magic.

Petunia gets Sorted Slytherin, where she falls into a mutually-venemous friendship with Severus Snape, who she had considered dirty and poor when he was skulking around Lily in their little neighborhood, lighting leaves on fire like a baby arsonist, but who now seems like the best ally in a pool of ugly little fish.

The blood-purists are their normal asshole selves, which Petunia responds to with busybody eavesdropping, cruel gossip, and manipulative emotional bullying. Severus calls her mudblood in their fifth year (it’s not the first time) and joins the Death Eaters. Tuney calls him a greasy git of a wanker and they still have lunch away from prying eyes now and then.

When the war comes, Petunia does not fight in it. She marries a Hufflepuff boy named Vincent Dunsley who spends their entire first date telling her about his junior position in the Ministry and his planned thirty-six bureaucratic steps to the top of the food chain. Vincent has no problem with Muggleborns, or at least not ones who behave as properly as Petunia.

Lily does fight. She’s been reading the Daily Prophet for years as she sits through history class dreaming of brooms and punching bullies on the playground. At seventeen, she writes Albus Dumbledore again. When he still writes back no, she packs a bag and shows up on the Order’s doorstep.

Alice Longbottom gives her a place to stay, some spare robes, and teaches her how to fly– Lily hopes, wrapped in a warm blanket while they sip cocoa and discuss action plans, that if she’d gone to Hogwarts she’d have been good enough to get Sorted Hufflepuff. Frank beams at his wife in the dim yellow light.

Of the Marauders, Lily meets Sirius first– shaggy hair and strong bones, he’s a tall glass of water and he’s anxiously watching a skinny, scarred boy sleep on the sofa. They’re an hour off a mission and Remus crashed as soon as they got back to headquarters. The first thing Sirius Black, troublemaker and risktaker, says to her is “Shh! You walk like an elephant.”

She’d snap back, but Remus does look that worn down, curled on the cushions.

Peter and James are in the kitchen, shoveling sandwiches down their gullets that are the size of their heads. James staggers to his feet when she comes in. “Hi. Uh, new recruit?”

“Something like that.”

James shoves his hair out of his eyes with one hand and thrusts the other one out in her direction. “James Potter,” he says. “Beauxbatons? I don’t think I ever saw you at Hogwarts.”

She grins. “Lily Evans,” she says. “Cokeworth. And I’d shake your hand, but you’ve got mustard on it.”

Lily defies the Dark Lord and his forces three times, with James’s wand at her back, with Remus’s and Sirius’s and Peter’s. They tell her about Hogwarts and its secrets, and she brings them Muggle candy bars and the boxes of X-Men comic books from under her bed. No one gets chocolate smudges on her pages, under threat of James’s disappointed-in-you face, which he’s been practicing.

Severus Snape hears about a Muggle Evans on the warfront. “Petunia’s not a Muggle,” he snaps when Dolohov mocks him for it, but Crabbe cradles his broken arm and keeps talking– about green eyes, red hair like a war banner– and Severus’s stomach sinks low in his gut, cold and aching.

Severus Snape overhears a prophecy and he tells it to his Lord. Lily Evans Potter is the mother of a halfblood boy with a mess of dark hair. Lily is in Augusta Longbottom’s living room, playing peekaboo with Harry and Neville, because Alice and Frank are already in St. Mungo’s, because she does not know that she is soon to be not a soldier but a fugitive. Her child has no scars, yet.

On Halloween night 1981, Tom Riddle goes to the Godric’s Hollow home that Peter Pettigrew betrayed. He kills James in the front room, wand in hand. He kills Lily in the nursery, after giving her a chance to step aside. He tries to kill Harry, but he fails.

Harry goes to his closest living relatives– his aunt Petunia, uncle Vincent, and cousin Dudley. He sleeps in a little room just off the kitchen, which he thinks used to be a broom closet. They hate the attention he brings when he’s dragged behind his aunt at the grocery store, so they leave Harry home when they go to Diagon Alley, Ministry potlucks, or the evening shows that Dudley fusses through, fists full of pumpkin pasties.

Harry knows how to wash dishes by hand, how to cook bacon without burning it (most mornings), and how to capture the spiders in the broom closet and escort them carefully outside. For his birthday Dudley gets a toy broom. For his, Harry gets an Albus Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card because Dudley already has fifteen and didn’t want that one. Petunia likes to peer over the hedge into the yard of Mrs. Figg, the squib who lives next door, and snigger about how she has to do her laundry without magic.

When Harry is ten years old, his Hogwarts letter comes in the mail and the Dunsleys are surprised. “I wasn’t sure,” Petunia sniffs. “I mean, with my sister’s blood in you and everything, anything could have happened.”

bts // you calling them daddy for the first time

JIN

 he would be kissing your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, your shoulder, everywhere. his hands would be playing with the hem of your shirt, preparing to take it off. every place he kissed had you whimpering underneath him, you just wanted him to be inside of you.

“please hurry daddy, i need you so bad.” you whinned, bucking your hips up into his boner. the nickname you had just given him made his eyes wide. he pulled back from kissing your neck only to smash his lips onto yours.

“i think i really like that nickname jagi.” he growls lowly, finally taking off the rest of your clothes and making you moan the new name all night.

Originally posted by whitetvlips

YOONGI

 as soon as you guys started dating, he made sure you knew that he liked being called daddy. you weren’t sure how you felt about calling him that in bed, so the first few times you did fuck you didn’t call him by it. 

  one night he was pounding into you mercilessly. sweat was dripping off the both of you. both of your hair sticking to your foreheads. moans were coming out of your mouth every few moments. he was making you feel so fucking good.

“mmh daddy.” you moaned out loudly, almost screaming. 

  his ears perked up, a smirk growing on his face. he stopped inside of you  momentarily, happy that you finally called him that.

“i’ve been waiting for you to call me that baby for a while now.” he quickly said before pounding out into 10x faster than he was before. from then on, you always called him the nickname. 

Originally posted by mllestardust

HOSEOK

 it first started as a joke you had made a few times around him. you noticed that as soon as you said it, he would tense up, but still laugh. 

  one day, while you were making dinner, hoseok came home from practice a bit early. he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. 

“oh hey daddy.” you joked, continuing to stir the meal that was in the pot. you expected hoseok to laugh, but this time he didn’t. he pushed his hips into your ass, making you feel his hard cock. “hose-” you were cut off by him turning you around and pushing you into the wall, making you drop the spoon you were stirring with.  

“i really like that name jagiya, you should call me it all night tonight.” hoseok said into your ear before kissing all the way down your neck, making sure to get all of your sensitive spots. 

Originally posted by mysourceofhoseok

NAMJOON

 before you even started dating, you were a fan of bts. being a fan made you know that namjoon was 100% into being called daddy and you were too. so, the first time you guys had sex he didn’t even have to say anything, you just moaned out to him.

“ahh daddy.” “daddy please go faster.” daddy don’t stop, you feel so good.” 

“you dirty, naughty girl.” he would chuckle, making all the hairs stand on your body before drilling into you at a even faster pace he was going before. 

Originally posted by simondismydaddy

JIMINIE

 when you and jimin had sex, it was the best thing ever, literally. he would always be the submissive, which you enjoyed, but you wanted to switch things up at times.

“daddy, are you going to fill me up really good tonight?” you would purr into his ear. his cock would twitch in his pants, loving the sound of the name. something in him completely switching. 

“oh baby girl, you know i will.” he smirked and pulled you into his body, grinding his hips into yours. “i will have you shaking underneath me.” 

Originally posted by amsimaria

TAEHYUNG

 it would happen the night when he got jealous. you were at the dorm with him and boys, watching a movie. all of the boys would be trying to talk to you, basically flirting, knowng that it gets taehyung mad. taehyung was fine with them, knowing what they were doing, but finally lost it when hoseok put his hand on your upper thigh. taehyung immediately grabbed you, dragging you to his room. 

“tae what are you do-” you would be cut off by him kissing you roughly, pushing you onto his bed.

“call me daddy tonight, alright kitten?” he asked as he briskly pulled your shirt and shorts off. 

“okay daddy, anything for you.” you responded, loving how dominate he was being.

“i want you to be really loud, make the boys know who owns you.”

Originally posted by infiresgirl

JUNGKOOK

you had always been into calling your partner daddy. something about it just made your knees weak and your panties soaked. when you started dating jungkook you had read a few things saying how he wasn’t really into being called daddy and what not. knowing this made you kind of upset, but you still liked him a lot. you stayed clear of not mentioning it to him or anything, not wanting to scare him away. but when it accidently slipped when you were having sex, you didn’t know what would happen.

“mmh daddy.” realizing what you said, you shot your eyes wide open, meeting the same exact expression on jungkooks.

“what did you just call me baby girl?” he asked, his expression fading into a slight smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

“uh. daddy.”

“mmh daddy likes the sound of that.” he groaned and then began to grind into you as hard as he could, making you the happiest you could ever be with your sex life. 

Originally posted by toxicpurplelove

tejuloueh  asked:

What happened sarah? Who did that to Harry?

Near the end of performing Kiwi, like usual, Harry went to the very front of the stage to get the crowd extra excited. He got down onto his knees and was shaking his arms to the music with his eyes closed.

A fan then reached out and touched his crotch. He very quickly got up and appeared to also shove their hand a little bit to remove them faster. You can tell it freaked him out a little because as he continued performing, he avoided the section that fan was standing in.

So disgusting, and I feel awful he had that happen to him and basically just had to sit there and take it quietly because he can’t just stop the show and tell them to fuck off.

Quiver [m]

Smut // How quiet can you be in a library? 

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the words on the book, your eyes have been going over the same paragraph for the last three minutes, trying to move on but losing concentration as the words began to shift and run into each other. Frustrated, you slam the book down. The sudden movement causes him to look up from his book.

“You okay?” He asks,

The urge to lash grows bigger, you are dumbfounded as to how he could sit there, face still and untelling of his devious ways.  “Of course.”, you say through gritted teeth.

“Really, cause your breathing-”

“Deep, I know.” You snap back, gripping the armchair as your foot incessantly taps on the floor. “Very deep,” you say under your breath.

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Whiskey

A Bucky Barnes One-Shot

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,717 (yup…)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :) 



You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.

Howl at the Moon

Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.

Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.

It kept your life interesting.

The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.

Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.

Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”

You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”

You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.

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anonymous asked:

How do you write a fight scene without becoming repetitive? I feel like it just sounds like "she did this then this then this." Thanks so much!

I watch her as she fights. Her left leg flies through the air – a roundhouse – rolling into a spin. She misses, but I guess she’s supposed to. Her foot lands and launches her into a jump. Up she goes again, just as fast. The other leg pumps, high knee gaining altitude. The jumping leg tucks. Her body rolls midair, momentum carrying her sideways. She kicks. A tornado kick, they call it. The top of her foot slams into Rodrigo’s head, burying in his temple. Didn’t move back far enough, I guess.

His head, it snaps sideways like a ball knocked off a tee. Skull off the spine. His eyes roll back, and he slumps. Whole body limp. Legs just give out beneath him. He clatters to the sidewalk; wrist rolling off the curb.

She lands, making the full turn and spins back around. Her eyes are on his body. One foot on his chest. I don’t know if he’s alive. I don’t know if she cares. Nah, she’s looking over her shoulder. Looking at me.

The truth twists my gut. I should’ve started running a long time ago.

The first key to writing a good fight scene is to tell a story. The second key is having a grasp of combat rules and technique. The third is to describe what happens when someone gets hit. The fourth is to remember physics. Then, roll it all together. And remember: be entertaining.

If you find yourself in the “and then” trap, it’s because you don’t have a firm grasp of what exactly it is your writing. “He punched” then “She blocked” then “a kick” only gets you so far.

You’ve got to get a sense for shape and feeling, and a sense of motion. Take a page from the comic artist’s playbook and make a static image feel like it’s moving. Try to remember that violence is active. Unless your character is working with a very specific sort of soft style, they’re attacks are going to come with force. So, you’ve got to make your sentences feel like your hitting something or someone.

“Ahhh!” Mary yelled, and slammed her fist into the pine’s trunk. A sickening crack followed, then a whimper not long after.

Angie winced. “Feel better?”

Shaking out her hand, Mary bit her lip. Blood dripped from her knuckles, uninjured fingers gripping her wrist. She sniffed, loudly. “I…” she paused, “…no.”

“You break your hand?”

“I think so. Yeah.”

“Good,” Angie said. “Think twice next time before challenging a tree.”

Let your characters own their mistakes. If they hit something stupid in anger, like a wall or a tree then let them have consequences. Injury is part of combat. In the same way, “I should be running now” is. When the small consequences of physical activity invade the page, they bring reality with them.

People don’t just slug back and forth unless they don’t know how to fight, or their only exposure to combat is mostly movies or bloodsport like boxing. Either way, when one character hits another there are consequences. It doesn’t matter if they blocked it or even deflected it, some part of the force is going to be transitioned into them and some rebounds back at the person who attacked.

Your character is going to get hurt, and it’ll be painful. Whether that’s just a couple of bruises, a broken bone, or their life depends on how the fight goes.

However, this is fantasy. It is all happening inside our heads. Our characters are never in danger unless we say they are. They’ll never be hurt unless we allow it. A thousand ghost punches can be thrown and mean absolutely, utterly nothing at all to the state of the character. This is why it is all important to internalize the risks involved.

The writer is in charge of bringing a dose of reality into their fictional world. It is much easier to sell an idea which on some level mimics human behavior and human reactions. The ghost feels physical because we’ve seen it happen on television or relate to it happening to us when we get injured.

You’ve got five senses, use them. You know what it feels like to get injured. To be bruised. To fall down. To be out of breath. Use that.

Here’s something to take with you: when we fight, every technique brings us closer together. Unless it specifically knocks someone back. You need specific distances to be able to use certain techniques. There’s the kicking zone, the punching zone, and the grappling zone. It’s the order of operation, the inevitable fight progression. Eventually, two combatants will transition through all three zones and end up on the ground.

So, keep the zones in mind. If you go, “she punched, and then threw a roundhouse kick” that’s wrong unless you explain more. Why? Because if the character is close enough to throw a punch, then they’re too close to throw most kicks. The roundhouse will just slap a knee or a thigh against the other character’s ribs, and probably get caught. If you go, “she punched, rammed an uppercut into his stomach, and seized him by the back of the head”, then that’s right. You feel the fighters getting progressively closer together, which is how its supposed to work.

Use action verbs, and change them up. Rolled, rotated, spun, punched, kicked, slammed, rammed, jammed, whipped, cracked, etc.

You’ve got to sell it. You need to remember a human’s bodily limits, and place artificial ones. You need to keep track of injuries, every injury comes with a cost. Make sure they aren’t just trading blows forever.

I’ve seen advice that says fights all by themselves aren’t interesting. I challenge that assertion. If you’re good at writing action, then the sequence itself is compelling. You know when you are because it feels real. Your reader will tune out if it isn’t connecting, and the fight scene is a make or break for selling your fantasy. It is difficult to write or create engaging, well choreographed violence that a reader can easily follow and imagine happening.

-Michi

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the blue notebooks

time travel au

pairing: jimin | reader
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 8.575
warnings: none
author’s note: this story will have a sequel since there is much, much more I want to tell, but I wanted to keep it under 10k and I figured this part worked well as a standalone. please enjoy :)


You meet Park Jimin after a particularly rough landing.

You wish time traveling was as easy as the books like to describe, or as beautifully romantic as the movies depict. It is a concept that’s been overly embroidered with advantages that do not exist — and even if normal humans see it as a fortuitous skill, one they long to have, they rarely realize that having a normal life is out of the question for your kind. Even so, there is no point in wishing for something that won’t happen in this lifetime, not with the time traveling genes burning strong within your veins.

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Worth

Canon ‘verse Dean and Cas talking about feelings

read it here on AO3!

“Cas, I just - I don’t think we can do this,” Dean says.

And Cas, sitting beside him in shotgun, tastes loss in his mouth. He stares straight ahead.

He’s been waiting for this, if he’s honest with himself. It was too good to be true. He and Dean have been - things have been different between them, recently. They’ve been saying more, showing more. It’s been filling a part of Cas that he hadn’t even understood was aching and empty, until suddenly it wasn’t.

But now…

“It’s - you know, we got jobs to do,” Dean says. Outside, the night rolls past. They’re driving home to the bunker, shopping bags in the back. The trip was domestic, even sweet; but at the check-outs, Cas saw Dean’s face. He’d known that something was shifting. He’d known that there was trouble to come.

“Jobs?” he manages.

“Yeah, Cas, jobs. We got the world to save. Half the time we’re throwing ourselves under the bus so it won’t drive off the cliff, and that’s good, because the bus won’t crash, but…” He pauses; Cas says nothing. “But - God, Cas, it’s so much harder to throw yourself under the bus when you got someone out there who makes you think you shouldn’t have to.”

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A Lesson in Love (Confessions)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,178

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this is not the end of story.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - The messages you sent me after editing this part let me know that I had successfully tugged on all of the right heartstrings, so thank you for that.

Originally posted by ditchthevillian

Whenever an uncomplicated task arises, people say it’s as easy to accomplish as breathing. The adage always made perfect sense to you whenever you heard it. Breathing is second nature. It can be done without having to think twice and, sometimes, it feels like certain tasks are the same way.

Today, that’s not the case. Standing here across from Bucky for the first time in weeks, you find that breathing is anything but easy. The air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as you stumbled upon the note he wrote on the canvas and you haven’t yet recovered. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, just breathe. But it’s hard. How are you supposed to remember to inhale and exhale in a moment like this?

“Are you going to say something?” You press, once the silence of the room becomes too unbearable. Your fingers curl tightly around the canvas as you wait for Bucky to speak. “Anything?”

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