i have two but the other one likes my mom better

Burrito Blanket Batmom - Bruce Wayne/Batfamily x Reader

I kinda love the idea of a “burrito blanket” batmom haha, and since I thought the request from anonymous I received was quite similar, I mixed them up together. Hope you’ll like it, particularly you @dannysanime, as usual, feedbacks are very welcome :) : 

(my masterlist : http://ellana-ravenwood.tumblr.com/masterlist)

__________________________________________________

-Are you alright mother ?

It’s early in the morning when your youngest son finds you in the living room, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, eyes wide open and not really looking at anything in particular. You don’t even react as he approaches you. 

-Mother ? Hey ? Mom are you alright ? 

Finally, you turn your head to look at him, blanket all the way up to your chin and wrapped around your head (and all around your body really, your face the only thing peering out of this burrito you made of yourself), you say in a croaked voice : 

-No.

Damian is immediately worried. It isn’t often, if not never, that you complain. That you let things get you down. You’re the cheery one of the family. You and Dick often are the ones that see the positive things in everything, so, seeing you there, laying on the couch without even the TV on, and looking as if you were completely done with life…Well, it worries your kid. 

You realize that he’s concerned about your well being when he kneels in front of you, and put his palm on your forehead. Oh, sweet boy. If only everyone could see him as you saw him, if only he’d be as nice with everyone as he is with you…No one would ever call him “brat” anymore. 

-I’m not sick honey, I’m just…I’m just….erf…

-…You’re just “erf” ?

You shrug your shoulder. Or at least, Damian thinks you shrug your shoulder, he isn’t really sure, seeing as you’re wrapped tightly in that damn comforter. 

He’s not sure what’s wrong with you, but he still wants to help. 

-Hum…Is there anything I can do for you ? Do  you want coffee ? Something to eat ? Or do you want me to go put a movie on or something ? Anything, really ?

You smile weakly at him, and it makes him frown. Your smiles are never weak ! They’re always so bright, warm, beautiful ! They always make him feel better, not matter what. Awkwardly, he brushes a few fingers against your cheek, and your smile widens a  little. Here. Better. 

-You’re already doing a lot my boy. 

“My boy”. He loved when you called him that. It made him feel…It just made him feel loved. And like a part of the family. Your son. But of course he was your son, you never saw him in any other way, even at the difficult beginnings…

He kept on brushing your cheek lightly, putting some strand of hair out of your face. You managed to take an arm out of your blanket, and caressed his hair lovingly, he laid his head next to yours, kneeling on the floor in front of you, and you just shared a sweet mom/son moment…So much that you both fell into a deep and comfortable slumber. 

Keep reading

tips for writing bilingual characters
  • there are different types of bilinguals
    • the All Around: speaks, reads, and writes both languages pretty well
    • the Conversational: one language is stronger than the other; can speak the other language a lot better than they read/write it (a lot of kids of immigrants are this type)
    • the High Schooler: understands what’s being said to them in the other language, can’t really speak it
  • don’t have your characters randomly drop words from their other language mid-sentence around people who don’t speak it lol
    • languages are a mindset thing. like personally if i’m around english-speakers, i’m speaking english and i don’t really switch to my other language (which is portuguese)
    • so like if you’re writing a bilingual character who speaks spanish and have them say something like “hey chad let’s go to the biblioteca” to an english speaker i’ll probably spend 5 minutes laughing and then close your story lmao
  • exception: the character is speaking in their weaker language and forgot a word (”where are the…? uh… llaves…. keys! keys, where are they?”)
  • otherwise really the only time your character should be randomly switching languages mid-sentence is if they’re talking to another bilingual
  • like i don’t speak spanish but i’ve legit never heard a spanish speaker say “ay dios mio” to gringos lmao
  • conversations between two bilingual people can take a few different forms:
    • Pick One: they pick one language and kinda stick with it for the whole conversation (a conversation i might have with my portuguese-speaking mom: ”you okay?” “yeah, i’m good. how’re you?” “i’m fine, but your dad-”)
    • Back-and-Forth: someone says something in one language, the other person replies in the other (”tudo bem?” “yeah, i’m good. how’re you?” “tou bem, mas o seu pai-”)
    • Combo: they speak a combo of the two languages, a popular example being spanglish, though basically every bilingual has their own combo language (”tudo bem?” “sim, tou bem. how’re you?” “i’m fine, mas o seu pai-”)
  • when in doubt: just ask a bilingual to look at your stuff and tell you if anything sounds weird

Fran and Jock

by reddit user Pippinacious/ tumblr user muricanmagpie

I was the last in a long line of grandkids on both sides of the family. No one has ever said as much, but I’m pretty sure I was an “oops” baby; the result of one too many glasses of wine and a couple over forty who thought unplanned pregnancies were for teens.

Oops.

Keep reading

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

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

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

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

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

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

And then she hands us this worksheet.

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

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

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

Now, two things to note here:

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

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

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

And…the strudels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

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

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

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

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

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

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

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

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

The 9 Elements of a VILLAIN

If we’re being honest, one character is always the most fun to develop when you’re writing a new story. It must be the main character, right? The person you’re going to follow throughout the story, the one that means the most to you?

Nope. It’s the villain.

Villains are just FUN. You get to creep into the darkest corners of your writer brain and conjure up the most unashamedly detestable human being you possibly can. 

This is how we look when we begin creating a villain. 

But sometimes, it can be difficult to to make sure they’re fully believable humans. So here are the nine elements that have helped me out when developing these terrible people … 

1) Hero’s Shadow:

The relationship between the main character and the villain is the most important one in the story, because it is the source of all conflict. Without the villain causing trouble, the main character wouldn’t have the chance to be a hero. Without that trouble, the main character’s weaknesses wouldn’t be pressured, which means they couldn’t change. The villain is a condensed and magnified embodiment of the inner weakness that the hero is battling. They’re the SHADOW of hero, the example of what will happen if the main character goes down the wrong path. Both are facing the same problem in different ways. For example Darth Vader and Luke.  

2) Conflict Strategy:  

In the pursuit of stopping the hero from achieving their goal, the villain is going to attack them on 1) a personal relationship level 2) a societal level and 3) an inner level. They’re going to attack the people around them, they’re going to cause consequences for the community surrounding them, they’re going to get into their head and plague them. Because the hallmark of a villain is that they’re the person who’s perfectly suited to attack the hero’s greatest weakness. Villains should have a distinct set of tactics to destroy the main character, on at least two levels. 

3) Flaws: 

This one’s expected. Of course a villain has flaws, it’s in the job description. But flaws do not equate to ‘He kicks turtles every morning before breakfast’ or 'His favorite hobby is butterfly stomping’ or, more within the realm of possibility, “He wants to kill the hero”. These are evil actions, NOT flaws. A lot of villains, particularly in movies, will be given horrible things to do without any explanation for WHY they do them. And it’s pretty easy to give them reasons: just give them human weaknesses! That’s it. Whether the actions they take are as small as theft or as big as blowing up a planet, these actions stem from recognizable HUMAN FLAWS. So like a main character, a villain needs mental and moral flaws.  

Yup, even Maleficent has human flaws. And she’s a dragon part of the time. 

4) Counter Goal: 

All characters exist because they want something. And what do villains want? To get whatever the main character wants (for very different reasons), to stop them from reaching their goal, or another goal that directly conflicts with the hero’s goal. As long as that big tangible thing they want locks hero and villain in battle, you’re good. Think 101 Dalmatians: Cruella and the good guys are fighting over the puppies.  

5) Surface Motivations:  

Why is it that villains always have a team of followers? Because villains never outright state their true motivations. They always have a cover story, and that cover will paint them as righteous. Villains want to look like the good guy. So their real Hidden Motivations are defended by twisting perceptions of Good & Evil, by portraying evil acts in a positive light, by indulging their followers selfish emotions and desire to feel like “one of the good guys. " 

Take Gothel for example: she’s a loving mother who wants to protect her daughter from all the world’s darkness. (Sure you do, Flynn stabber.)  

Surface Motivations never stand up to logical scrutiny and a functioning moral compass, but giving your bad guy a compelling argument against your good side always makes things more interesting, which brings us to …

6) Counter Statement:

The main character needs to learn some kind of truth that will enable them to fix their lives, overcome their weaknesses, banish their ghosts. It’s whatever statement about "how to live a better life” you want to prove with your story. Your villain has other ideas. They don’t agree with that statement, have other beliefs about living life well, and represent an argument against it. For example, Voldemort: “there is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it." 

Although your argument isn’t very convincing, Voldy. I mean, you’re living in the back of some guy’s head.

7) Characterization: 

This is everything on the surface of the villain. The way they speak, the way they look, the way they act, their role in life, their status and power. This is the facade they project for the world to see, a calculated effort to control how they are perceived. This is closely connected to that surface want, because that surface is what they wish people to believe about them. Over time, the reader and the other characters are going to be able to see through this mask and see what it conceals. My favorite Disney example of this is Mother Gothel: on the surface she’s this bubbly mom who loves Rapunzel and wants to protect her from the harshness of the world. 

You can think of this as the text … 

8) Hidden Motivation: 

And this is the subtext. That surface motivation they want the world to believe is a mask concealing their true motivation, which is always rooted in their flaws,  selfishness, and skewed beliefs. 

9) Ghosts, Justification, Self-Obsession: 

These three are closely related, so they get counted together.
Like main characters, villains have GHOSTS: events from their backstories that knocked their worldviews out of alignment, that marked the beginning of their weaknesses, that haunt them still. Because these happened, the originally benign person allowed themselves to turn into someone who could occupy the job of "villain” in a story. Usually, these events are genuine misfortunes and are worthy of sympathy, just like the ghosts of a main character. Think of Voldemort growing up in an orphanage talking to snakes.

BUT! When it comes to ghosts, the major difference between a hero and a villain is HOW THEY DEAL with these unpleasant past events. Both have suffered, but react to suffering in very different ways. A villain will be consumed by these events, obsessed with the real (or imagined) persecution or disadvantage they’ve endured, convinced that all personal responsibility is nullified by their status of injured party. Past tragedies become a talisman that grants immunity from decency. 

This scene from A Series of Unfortunate Events sums it up.  An adult makes an excuse for a terrible person by saying he had a terrible childhood. And Klaus replies: 

Yes, maybe they’ve both lived through tragedy. But THE KIDS aren’t hurting others because of it. 

Because villains, who are constantly victimizing heroes, are completely convinced that THEY are the true victims here. No matter what they do, no matter what they are, they blame everything on that ghost, whether it was another person, society, or circumstances. And later they blame the hero, who they see as the REAL villain. For example, Frollo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame:  

“It’s not my fault, I’m not to blame”

So! WHY are villains like this?

SELF-OBSESSION! Yup, villains spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about themselves and their plights and their plots. Think of any villain and it’s not hard to see the inherent narcissism behind everything they do. Like willingness to take action is the nonnegotiable trait of a main character, self-obsession is the trait that all villains seem to share. 

So! Developing villains in this way has worked out for me so far. If it looks like it might be helpful for you, give it a try.

And in the spirit of creating someone to torment our main characters and ruin their lives, here’s one more maniacal laugh for the road:

I’ve been seeing a man in my backyard for the past two nights

Story by reddit user Opinionson

To start I need to give some background:

I am a male who lives in relatively nice neighborhood

It’s your average small town run of the mill suburbs area with not a lot of people.

I am a college kid who’s home on break while my parents have gone away which doesn’t help at all.

I have a two story house

I do not have gun nor do I have any real weapons other than kitchen knives

I am not on any medication and I have no record of schizophrenia or any other mental illnesses

I barely have any relationships with my neighbors most of whom are elderly and the rest I have minimal contact with

I do not have any people in my neighborhood (that I know of) who have reasons to attack or harm me

Now, let’s get into what has been happening. About two nights ago I woke up very late in the night and I went to the bathroom to go take a shit. Now, my second story bathroom has a window that can see the entirety of my backyard. Directly behind it is a cul de sac which you can see directly into. There is a group of trees and pile of rocks and mulch that divides it. Usually I can see everything in my backroom without turning on my because lights from my neighbor’s house dimly lights the room.

Keep reading

From the Other Side of the Signing Table

“I don’t know what to say to you,” the girl said. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks is good,” I replied.

Silence stretched, punctuated only by the scuffle of a Sharpie on a page.

We were in the same boat, the girl and I — both at a book festival, both at the end of a long day full of people, both in a signing line that had been going on for an hour already. There was only one big difference between us: she was on one side of the table, and I was on the other. Sometimes that difference seems to matter more than others.

Before I was published, I read a lot of accounts of what it was like to have your work out there, but I never read anything about what it was like to have yourself out there. I suppose I never really thought about it, to tell you the truth. I thought you wrote a book and hopefully people liked it and if I thought about book tours at all, I figured they involved standing on a stage for a bit before disappearing into a rental car. The truth, however, is that now — ten years and fifteen novels in to my career — most of my hours in front of people are spent in a signing line. Forty minutes on a stage or behind a table for a panel, and then two or three hours meeting a few hundred strangers. I had no idea what it would be like.

This is what it’s like.


Keep reading

Why I Love Connor Murphy (and why his character isn’t an innocent one)

Hello y’all, I’ve seen Too Much discourse in the DEH fandom recently on the part of people liking Connor and not liking Alana and Zoe enough, so here’s some of my thoughts on the matter (in no perfectly organized order) as well as some headcanons that I have which are supported by evidence in the show.

Connor Murphy was clearly a deeply fucked up kid. Signs of different mental illnesses should have been abundantly clear to his parents from the get-go, but they obviously weren’t (outward violent aggression towards teachers, isolation of himself from other peers, etc.) Connor was clearly crying for help in the only way that he could, through violence, and it’s clear that his dad was resistant to putting him into therapy. Then, (I’m assuming in middle school/early high school) he got into hard drugs (which ones we’re never explicitly told) and attempted suicide. Finally, after that, he goes to rehab, but the ride isn’t over yet. 

Zoe mentions him banging on her door threatening to kill her for ‘no reason.’ so we can assume some things.

1. Connor was either high or mid-manic episode.
2. He did not have full control of his actions.

This, of course, could never excuse abusive behavior, but it does explain it and gives room for us to assume that this was before rehab. After rehab, he comes back to school, and I’m going to assume that though he had gotten better, he wasn’t quite good enough. He started self medicating with pot and other less harmful/addictive drugs (”I don’t want you going to school high, Connor.” the way this line is delivered makes me assume that Mrs. Murphy knows Connor smokes pot and cares but only in the context of school.) to try and calm his depression/bipolar/psychotic NOS (I believe he was schizophrenic.)

Connor Murphy was not excusable in his actions, but I love him because he was a tragic character who reminds me of myself. And besides, none of the characters in this show are perfect.

Now, getting to Connor’s mental state during the week that he killed himself:

Very up and down, we see him being nice to Evan (signing his cast, laughing with him, etc.) in one scene, but in the next he sees Zoe’s name and instantly becomes extremely paranoid/panicked because he thinks that Evan is out to get him. He’s constantly worried about being labeled a “freak” (due to constant bullying from almost everyone.) And he keeps the note for two days in his pocket (not at school) and kills himself with it still there. 

Connor Murphy was mentally ill and his mom was the only one who gave very much of a shit about it (Zoe did too, I think, but she didn’t know how to deal with it.) and that’s all, Connor Murphy deserves our love not because he was a good or nice character, but because he had the potential to be. 

I mean, imagine if he had been properly rehabilitated and continued therapy? 

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

Keep reading

things i love about my hero academia

(not all of them because then this would turn into a 500 page journal that could be published and sold and no one would buy it because no one is as much of a nerd as i am)

  • our main protagonist is not a traditionally masculine hero. he’s small, he’s weak, he’s a crybaby, he’s sensitive. especially in the shounen genre, this is a pretty rare thing to see, and even as Izuku grows as a person and becomes more confident in himself, he’s still shy and anxious.
  • he’s also a fanboy!! and not in a bad way!! it’s his fanboy nature that allows him to express himself and show how smart, intuitive, and observant he is
  • the character who does get all the traditionally masculine traits is the character everyone in the main cast acknowledges is a total asshole who mercilessly bullied and abused his classmate/childhood playmate
  • it’s also very clearly seen that Izuku has been conditioned (unintentionally) to fear Bakugou because of all of that physical and emotional abuse. just because he’s a hero in training and he’s learning and growing and becoming more confident doesn’t erase all of those years of bullying
  • it’s also acknowledged that they are children and still have room to grow. Bakugou is an asshole, but he’s not totally villainized for his behavior and is given the chance to change and become a better person because he’s only sixteen years old and still has time to change
  • and he does!! he makes an effort to change and try to adjust his behavior to make a more positive impact (even if it is a slow and arduous process, we do see him make great strides throughout the manga)
  • it would have been really easy to just throw Bakugou under the bus and make him a villain, but instead we get to see his growth as a person as he matures and enters the world of adulthood
  • All Might is the no. 1 hero, the Symbol of Peace, the man everyone thinks is invincible, and he has a chronic condition. he’s missing his stomach, he’s had multiple surgeries, he spits up blood, he literally looks like a skeleton, guys. but even after the reveal, people still admire and look up to him as an idol because he’s still All Might and he still protected and saved a lot of lives and was still a hero
  • All Might’s relationship with Izuku just in general. seriously, i could make an entirely different list just based on their relationship and 95% of the fandom has already talked about them, so i won’t gush about their relationship too much here
  • the fact that most of the adults take responsibility when they fuck up. the police force realize they’ve relied too heavily on heroes, specifically All Might, and they make an effort to change that so they can help people. the teachers at UA recognize that they’ve neglected students who need psychological help. Izuku’s mom acknowledges that she should have encouraged his dream in spite of his quirklessness. most stories, even in the west, don’t have nearly as much adult responsibility as this series does
  • the elusive living anime mom
  • okay but seriously, Inko is quite possibly one of the best fictional moms i’ve seen in a long time. she’s loving and encouraging and she tries her hardest, but she’s not perfect. she’s a single mom caring for her son, who wants to go into this incredibly dangerous profession. and when he gets hurt enough times, when her limit is finally met, she puts her foot down and says “no. i love you, but i can’t let you keep getting hurt like this.” like any reasonable parent would. and the only way she relents is when she sees how much Toshinori wants to teach him and nurture him and encourage him and see his dream recognized and she sees how badly Izuku wants to continue down this path, even if it’s under her terms.
  • this series seriously tackles a lot of topics that you wouldn’t expect it to. you know you’re gonna get the usual topics like what makes a hero, what makes a villain, etc. but, it also goes over other subjects like bullying, parental abuse, discrimination, grief, inferiority complexes, how easy it is to create a monster, redemption. this is a manga about teenagers learning to be super heroes, how did it turn out like this
  • it would have been so easy to sexualize any of the girls. this manga, in the hands of a lesser author, would have featured a lot of fan service shots of the girls. Momo especially, considering she wears a very revealing outfit. and yet, none of them are sexualized?? in any way shape or form??? yeah, we see Momo shirtless a lot and some girls wear skin tight outfits. but, you know who else has skin tight outfits and revealing hero costumes? the boys. and when we do see a shirtless girl or boy, it’s not framed in a way where we’re meant to be objectifying their body. there’s a reason why it happened and we move on. it’s so refreshing.
  • (there are only two fan service female characters. one uses her sexuality to get free shit and the other is meant to make you uncomfortable. take it what you will)
  • we get a lot of unique designs for each of the characters. there are no same faces. each character has a unique quirk and a design that belongs to them. they aren’t interchangeable with one another. Izuku looks like Izuku. All Might looks like All Might. they all look unique with different shapes and sizes
  • (admittedly the manga still kind of falls under the trap of the boys get to have weird, strange designs and the girls all kind of look cute, but it’s not nearly as bad as some other shows. and honestly, if that’s my only complaint, that says a lot)
  • fighting doesn’t solve everything! there’s a really incredible few chapters in the manga dedicated to acknowledging that Izuku and Bakugou seriously need to talk to each other about what Bakugou did to him. they’re both incredible people in their own right and they can learn a lot from each other, but only if they stop fighting and actually communicate with each other. one of the chapters is literally titled “a meaningless fight”. because it is meaningless. it’s not going to solve their problems, fix past mistakes, or make them feel better. it’s a fight to get aggression out because Bakugou doesn’t know any other way to deal with his emotions and trauma.
  • kindness is rewarded!!! cruelty is not!!! i’m really sick and tired of TV shows and movies trying to sell this pessimistic outlook that everything sucks and that gives us the right to be assholes to each other just because it’s edgy. My Hero Academia is such a positive manga and it brings me so much joy and happiness and it sends such a wonderful message of anyone can be a hero if you have a good heart and that kindness will be rewarded, even if it takes a really long time.

i love this manga so much and it’s given me so much light and happiness in my life and if that makes me weird because it’s anime, then fine. whatever. i don’t care. i’ll love it for as long as i can, dammit.

Dare | Jimin (M)


Fluff | Crack | Smut | Bff!Jimin | Policeman!Jimin

word count: 32.6k+

You and Jimin have been playing an ongoing game of dare since the fourth grade, the only thing off limits —much to his disappointment— was daring you to marry him.

A/N: i’m…. so.. ecstatic to be finished with this MONSTROSITY 


Keep reading

important facts & quotes from hidden oracle reread #4 part one

i cited everything from the hardback edition bc im a nerd 

- page one apollo is already making pop culture references (1)

- meg is such a badass oh my g od (14)

- riodan does such a beautiful way of explaining things in this novels. awe-inspiring. mind blowing. example: “Her eyes glinted darkly like a crow’s. (I can make that comparison because I invented crows.)” (14-15) wow. beautiful. 

- so i understand this series is going to be about Apollo’s redemption and ~~~~finding himself~~~~ or w\e but JESUS PLEASE RICK you can’t just say “She [Meg] reminded me of the strays my sister was always adopting: dogs, panthers, homeless maidens, small dragons.” (15) WITHOUT PROVIDING SEVERAL BOOKS AS EXAMPLE FOR SAID SENTENCE all i want is a book focused on artemis and her army of small dragons and lesbians dear gods please 

- omfg can you just imagine sally having to go over to Percy’s room and having to tell him that the greek god of the sun apollo was there to see him omfg. imagine the salt. imagine both of them just groaning. imagine.

-”If I had still been an immortal, I might have flirted with her [Sally Jackson] myself.” (30-31) l o l Sally is a middle aged married woman seven months pregnant and still bringing in the gods you go girl im proud of you

- Sally Jackson is one of the best characters in the entire series. citation: every riodan book ever even the non-pjo it’s a fact 

- i 10000% support the idea that percy gave apollo the led zeppelin shirt as a sneaky joke he’s so smart i love him so much

- “Percy laced his fingers. They were long and nimble.”(35) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- He [Percy] would have made an excellent musician.” (35) f u ck 

- literally all percy wants is to “stay alive” long enough to go to college, meet his baby sister, and see his mom get her book published my heart is broken for this boy (35-36)

- the return of the seven layer dip fuck me up (40)

- jfc that poor Prius it’s been through so much (52-54)

- page 67 and Percy’s already made two comic book references he’s such a canon nerd 

- “Cops love me almost as much as teachers do.” god Percy Jackson what are you doing to me

- apollo tried to order a pizza to CHB and honestly same (73)

- g o d will solace jfc wow

- we’re to assume Will’s a skier (his Okemo Mountain jacket & skiers tan) (82) and now i have to write the inevitable fic that comes out of this fact

- Will’s mom was a alt.-country singer from Austin, Texas (83) which wow and honestly makes the fact will is a horrible singer 1000% better

- yellow daises grow year-round in the Apollo cabin, and it smells like fresh linens and dried sage. (83)

- kayla is aiming for the olympics and honestly im so proud already 

- fact: any and all solangelo interaction have me crying into my book 

- “Will put his hand on Nico’s shoulder, ‘Nico, we need to have another talk about your people skills.’” lol this implies that they’ve had this talk before and im dying to hear it

- the Hermes kids are big fans of Rocky Horror Picture Show (95) and now i have to write a seperate list of headcanons for this fact

- speaking of, Apollo used to cosplay as Rocky bc why not. (95-96)

- listen i know im solangelo trash BUT - “Will and Nico sat shoulder to shoulder, bantering good-naturedly. They were so cute together it made me feel desolate.” im destroyed (110)

- “but if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen.” “it’s a mood disorder” “i cant control it” stfu nico u nerd u just want to sit with your boyfriend im dead (110)

- Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.” death to goody-two-shoes will solace 2k17

- off topic but CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE CHIRON THO. like. this happens and will and nico are just standing there. in front of him. telling him they have to sit together OR NICO WILL JUST HAPPEN TO PUT CRACKS INTO HIS CAMP. just imagine. him staring at them. sighing. deciding not to fight this one. agreeing & watching them giggle away bc they’re so SNEAKY & now they can EAT TOGETHER WOW 

-   lol when Meg was going to town on the hot dogs and “Julia and Alice watched her with a mixture of fascination and horror.” (111)

- “Will and Nico exchanged a look that might have meant, here we go.” (112) okay im sorry im just sO GONE FOR LITTLE MOMENTS LIKE THIS I JUST WANT NICO TO BE HAPPY AND COMFORTABLE IN HIS RELATIONSHIPS OKAY

- apollo refers to the seven as “the A-list” (112) same tho

- Jason, Piper, Coach Hedge, Mellie and baby Chuck are all in LA with Piper’s father like???? (113) THIS IS SOMETHING I NEED TO SEE? What’s the living arrangement? Is Jason living with Piper? OH GOD IS JASON LIVING WITH HEDGE AND MELLIE? DO THEY ALL LIVE IN SOME BIG PLACE PIPER’S DAD RENTED OUT???? do Piper and Jason babysit? do they have family dinners? how’s baby chuck doing??? how are they all adjusting to domestic life?? I NEED TO KNOW THIS IS ALL VERY IMPORTANT TO ME 

- lol nico’s just as pissed as eveRYONE IN THE FANDOM about Leo’s not-death and im living for it (113)

- also nico carries around Leo’s lil ‘IM ALIVE LOL’ letter\hologram\thing? like i get it was completely for the plot but?????? “i look at it whenever i want to get angry” (114) like ok nico u lil bean whatever u say u little emo shit

- apollo’s little ‘lol when u have a headache in olympus hephaestus just cracks open your skull and removes whatever brain god\dess u just birthed up lol it’s so much easier ugh’ (116) w h a t t h e f u c k 

- fact: harley is adorable no citation needed

- also you’re telling me chiron, basically as old as time itself tbh, doesn’t speak portuguese? k (120)

- “i am merely assessing how well paolo’s arms are functioning after surgery” (120) those are some big words william u nervous or something??

- “hmph” - nico di angelo, 2016 (120) 

- this isn’t really important but there’s a satyr named herbert and he’s my new favorite character sorry i dont make the rules (124)

- ok so there’s an unnamed random camper who mutters in Italian (127) and now i’ve got the BIGGEST headcanon that this random girl and Nico (omg maybe a few others????) meet a few times a month just to rant to each other in Italian so none of them get sloppy with the language and u g h im such a bitch for nico di angelo frienships

- “A boy in the crowd gasped, ‘she’s a communist!’” (127) i fucking hate this book omfg

i’ll do more later in order to mentally prepare myself for the dark prophecy but it’s 3 am and im tired  

kiyumiarashi  asked:

Tell us about the parrots and the zipline? That sounds like the worst thing to happen ever.

Oh boy ok brace yourself cause this entire debacle was just a mess. Imma tell the story of this entire day cause it was just absolute bs 

So I’m in Mexico with my family, yknow, having a nice vacation. My dad doesn’t do heat, so it was just my grandparents, my mom, and me. Keep in mind, I was like, 16 at the time, so this was a few years ago now. 

So, i fully admit, I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Always have been, always will be. So when they said we could go to a massive park that was 90% underground, and the rest was like 300ft in the air, i jumped at the opprotunity.

so we get there and I immediatly beeline for the ziplines. Now, you can’t just do one of these suckers. Once you do one, there’s no going back until you’ve conquered all 12 (or something like that, there was a lot.) It took the better part of two exhausting hours to get through them all. 

So before the parrot issue there was some other bs first. We brought my best friend with me that year, but because we were both too light, we had to go tandum for a lot of the lines, or else we wouldn’t make it across. We’d just get stuck in the middle of the line dangling like a pinata, and no body wants that.

so the first bs comes along. I’m singing the batman theme song to keep my friend calm, because she is not a fan of heights. Like, we are screaming NANANANANANANA BATMAAAAAN at the top of our lungs. And we look ahead and see this massive gap in the trees. Now, we’d gone over a couple cinotes already where we could see the people doing the under ground activities. We figued, hey, let’s laugh at the people doing the river swim that’ll make us feel better. SO we get up on it and my friend starts freak tf out. It wasn’t a cinote.

it was a snake pit.

A massive round, man made snake pit will with hundreds of writhing snakes. They were climbing the walls, even the trees that were like 3ft from our toes. So we’re freaking out like “I don’t wanna be indiana jones i’m too young!!” But we pass it with no problem. We keep going another few second or so, and we see another break in the trees. We’re bracing like cause we assume it was another snake pit. It wasn’t.

It was a crocodile pit.

cue freak out number two.

but we pass it and all is well. Then we come onto the landing strip. We were just starting out so this one was pretty low to the ground. And then i see a weird shape on the grass landing pad.

There was a crocodile on the lawn

we freaked OUT like you wouldn’t believe.

so we’re soaring at this thing and there’s no stopping. We’re waving at the guys who are supposed to catch us with a net like “yo guys u got a coc problem.” and they don’t seem bothered in the slightest. We pass over this thing and it doesn’t move, but i’m 99% sure i tried to kick it. Now we’re free we’re safe and we should be slowing down…why aren’t we slowing down.

we slam into the safety net full force and bounce back a couple feet. When we manage to unhook ourselves we find the two duded pissing themselves laughing.

it was a fake crocodile. i tried to kick a concrete lawn ornament.


onto the parrots.


for this next one my friend was freaking out, as we were over 300ft up. I wanted to go asap so i went attached to my mom instead. At this point, i am alrady 5′8″, and my mom is like 5′5″. so you have this massive beanpole of a child strapped to her tiny mother. So we take off and our combined weight has us absolutely flying down the line. It’s all idealyic and serene, and i’m enjoying my crocodile free cruise. I look down and through a break in the trees i spot the amphibian vehicles going in and out of the cave systems. All good. Right beside them is a pack of leopards sunning themselves on a rock, which is also directly below us. and im thinking “wow, this would a crappy time to fall” immediatly i hear

thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

my legs hurt all of a sudden. I glance down and see blood dripping down my leg. Mom is screaming/laughing.

we hit a flock of parents mid flight

and they were pissed.

So im screaming and swatting at them, they’re screeching like little feathered demons and pecking t us, some were dangling off my shoe laces, shriekingly like hellions. I still have scars from those suckers. They eventually fly off starnig us down like “dont ever come to our terf again” 

we finished the ziplines without incident after that.

but my day isnt over yet.

we have a wonderful lunch, i get my legs cleaned up, and we make the trek to the amphibian vehicles i saw earlier. We hop in and we’re going through the motions. Up and down, into caves and out. Super cool. Loved it.Then we come to where i saw the leopards.

all the cars in front of us pass without incident.

the second we roll up the leopards perk up and start running after us

cue freakout number 4654783

now, my grandpa is driving and i’m sitting there, with nothing but a mesh door between me and a pack of leopards

“grandpa go faster, we gotta goooo” and he just looks at me all calm like

“i know why they’re here.”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW WHY THEY’RE HERE GO FASTER”

He just calmly, oh so casually, pulls out a hot dog from lunch.I just kinda stare at him like GRANDPA

Obviously i do the smart thing

i grab that stupid hot dog at chuck at the nearest leopard

i hit it in the face

they all fall on each other trying to get a taste of that mustardy goodness and we take that moment to make our escape


and that was my” wth is going on in mexico extravaganza”

and that day didn’t even include the sting ray incident

Billboard: Niall Horan Braces for Stardom Outside One Direction, With Advice From Justin Bieber & The Eagles

When Niall Horan decided to move from London to Los Angeles in early 2016, it’s no surprise that he chose a house in Laurel Canyon, the epicenter of ’60s folk-rock culture. Horan was the one ­toting a guitar in One Direction, the British boy-band juggernaut that was just then going on a hiatus, and he’s got the soul of a singer-songwriter: He’s charismatic, witty and sensitive, but also easygoing and no-nonsense. Viewed alongside his bandmates – born rock star Harry Styles, “sensible one” Liam Payne, “funny one” Louis Tomlinson, moody R&B prince Zayn Malik – Horan, 23, is sort of like the middle brother: the most ­approachably handsome, the second-most popular across social media (29 million Twitter followers; 19 million on Instagram) and the most likely to lust after a gig at the historic Los Angeles rock club The Troubadour. “Playing for, like, 500 people. What more do you want?” says Horan. “I’ve had some good moments with screaming ­teenagers, but I like when the room is completely dead. It’s a ­different kind of respect. People are actually listening.”

Keep reading

Snippet

This is something….. Basically it’s me wanting to write an AU where Jack never kissed Bitty and went on with his life and how they still found their way back to each other. I’ve been taking bits and pieces of this fic and putting them in different fics so there are a ton of holes but I keep thinking about it. 

The context for this is if Jack went up to visit his parents over the summer and he invited the team up because why the hell not????? It’s a WIP. I don’t have it all figured out yet. 


Ransom and Holster jump at the same time and the splash it creates reaches Alicia on the patio chair. She sighs and stands.

“I’m so happy you brought the boys with you,” she says dryly but she ruffles Jack’s hair as she goes by.

Jack waits a moment and follows her.

He closes the door behind him and she looks up with a smile from where she’s pouring more chips into a bowl.

“I’m glad Eric could come. Your father mentioned the two of you had some issues? Is that all worked out now? He seems pretty comfortable around you.”

“I think I could be in love with him.”

There’s dead air in the kitchen but beyond the sliding doors the world rages on.

Keep reading

I think I love you - Jughead Jones

Pairing : Jughead Jones x Reader

Word count : 1,484

Warnings : none

Requests are closed!

Originally posted by juptern

Your phone rang in the pocket of your jacket making you jump by surprise. You answered the call before showing your index to your friend Archie, meaning that it would only take a minute.

“Hi, this is (y/n) speaking.”

“Hey (y/n), how are you?” You instantly recognised the groggy voice behind the line.

“Jughead! I’m good! What about you?” From the corner of your eye, you would’ve swore you saw Archie rolling his eyes.

“Marvellous. So, what are you up to this evening? I thought we maybe could’ve hung out tonight. You know, me, you, at Pop’s?” You chuckled lightly.

“Sorry Juggie, I was planning on spending the night with Archie… You can tag along if you want? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” A small sigh made its way into your ear. You had to admit that you spent a lot of your recent time with your new red-haired friend. Jughead still occupied the position of best friend. He didn’t have to worry about it.

“I promise we’ll do something together tomorrow, alright?” It was silence for a while before you heard back,

“Yeah sure.” You pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself. It wasn’t the first time that you had turned down your best of friend for Archie. Lately it had been happening more than before. It made you feel like the worst pal.

“See you.” With that, Jughead hung up. You understood how he felt. It wasn’t right that you weren’t spending as much time with him.

“Jughead, wasn’t it?” You looked up and saw Archie sprawled across the black beanbag in your bedroom. His hands were attached on the new acoustic guitar his dad had got him for his birthday. You nodded and played with the sleeves of you sweater. Your friend continued strumming the strings of his instrument.

“Hey- I wrote this song last week, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. I’ve been trying to talk to Josie about her playing some of my compositions, but she’s not that into it. You’re her friend, right? Maybe you could listen to it and try to talk to her?” He asked questioningly.

“Of course, go ahead.” His fingers moved to the tuners and accorded them as his other hand rested on the waist of the guitar. A few seconds later, a pleasant melody filled the room. Archie then started singing the lyrics he had written. The song wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite catchy. The redhead friend of yours had talent. Before Archie could go on, you blurted out something you soon would regret.

“I’ll probably spend the day with him tomorrow.” The small tune that Archie had started suddenly came to an end. Archie hadn’t spoken to Jughead since this summer. The tree of you and Betty we’re supposed to go on a road trip the fourth of July but Archie left you hanging at the last minute. Since then, the boys stopped talking completely. When you mentioned one of  them to the other, you saw the irritation and annoyance in their expression.

“I thought you were coming to my game tomorrow. I’m playing in the varsity football team this year, remember?” You bet your lip and fiddled your hair with your fingers.

“I’m sorry Arch. I haven’t seen Jughead in a while now and I don’t want him to feel like I stopped being his friend. I’m making a vow that I’ll show up to your next game, how about that?”

“Why does it always have to be about him? Everything constantly has to be about Jughead.” Your were caught off guard by the sudden raise in his voice.

“That’s not it… I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”

“By ditching me at the last minute, that’s how your making things better? I didn’t think of you as an inconsiderate and selfish person.” He replied bitterly. In all the time of you guy’s friendship, you had never seen this side of Archie. Usually, he would be sweet and just shrug off any problem that faced his way. But the words he had just told you, they hurt your heart. Your eyes were starting to fill up with tears and your bottom lip started quivering.

“I’ve spent all my time with you for the last month. You. Not Jughead. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You know what? I don’t want to spend any more of my time with you right now.” With that, Archie got up and left you alone in your room. Without even noticing, a trail of tears had made its way down your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth and your hands covered your face as you poured your heart out. You laid in your bed and continued crying.

It was all your fault. Archie now hated you and would probably never talk to you again. Why did you had to be so stupid? If only you had kept your mouth shut. Maybe he still would have been on that beanbag, singing.

Maybe half an hour later, you heard the wooden creek of your door meaning that someone was coming in. You didn’t even move, your pillow pressed against your face. The mattress shifted to the side from the sudden weight that it now had on it. You felt a piece of your hair being put behind your ear. You smiled at the sweet gesture and assumed it was your mother. You slowly got up and saw Jughead sitting beside you. Automatically, you vaulted in his arms tearing up once again.

“Sssh. It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. Your forehead was against his chest, his two upper limbs protectively holding you. Your eyes were probably red from all the crying but you couldn’t care less. You continued sobbing in his chest until you eventually felt calmer.

“Why- Why are you here?” You asked with a small voice. Jughead gently whipped your cheek with his thumb.

“Your mom saw Archie leave in a rush and realized that you two probably had a fight. She heard you crying and thought that you would be more willing to speak about it with me than her.” You grinned at the boy.

“I ruined your shirt.” You noticed, and felt guilty.

“Nothing to worry about (y/n/n). I never liked that jersey anyway.” You giggle with your best friend. You sniffed and observed Jughead who his face was only about a foot away from you. You had to admit that he was good looking. His prefect blue eyes were mesmerising and his pink lips appeared so kissable. Forever you considered the boy as nothing more than a platonic relationship to you. Never had you ever felt anything for him. But in that moment, something clicked. Jughead wasn’t only a friend to you, not even a best friend.  A stronger feeling overwhelmed your body. You felt love. You loved Jughead Jones. 

He was the one who your mother called when you were sad. He was the one who came rushing to your house as soon as your mother hung up. He was the one who was holding you and comforting you, whispering sweet nothing to you as you were crying. He was the one who was there for you.

“Jughead.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“(y/n)?” You asked yourself in your mind if it was the right time to confess your feelings towards him. Your breathing started quickening as the anxiety rose in your core.

“I think I-” He watched you with intending eyes, indicating to continue your phrase.

“I think I love you.” Jughead eyeballed you, astonished at your revelation. He quietly answered, almost inaudible for you to hear.

“I think I love you too.” He leaned towards you and slowly pressed his lips to yours. Fireworks were going off in your stomach. The heaviness on your shoulders disappeared. In this moment, nothing else mattered in the world. Both of your lips moved in sync as you played with his raven locks. His arms pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you two. Jughead backed away and kissed every each of your face, including your cheeks, temple and chin.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a last long peck on the lips before saying,

“Do you want to lay down and cuddle with me?” He moved his head up and down calmly and took a blanket that was already on the bed to cover you. Cuddling was not something new for the both of you. You had always cuddled together, and whenever. His hand ran through your hair bringing a comforting and fuzzy feeling. His body pressed behind your back and his hot breath was tingling your neck. Before you even knew it, you and Jughead had fallen in a deep slumber, both dreaming about each other.

*gif is not mine!!

skam fic rec masterpost

so i love reading fic, its like my favorite pass time and that’s all i’ve been doing for the past three months so here’s a huge fic rec list of some fics that i have read and am currently reading and im in love with

big thanks to fic writers! yall are amazing and so important to the fandom <3

a lot of these authors are also on tumblr im sure but i don’t have all the urls so i’m gonna put the ao3 usernames for now. please if you’re on tumblr and would like your url to be in this instead of your ao3 username, just holla at me and ill change it! <3

(ps i’m so sorry i had to shorten up the summaries on some of them so it wouldnt be too long!!)

(pps i update this very frequently as i read so feel free to come back from time to time to look for any new fics!)

make sure you read the trigger warnings for some fics as they can get angsty

okay here we go :) happy reading <3

Keep reading

Scarf v. Crabot, Docket No. 3838

Citizens of the jury. Check this shit out.

Before I show you this shit, I would like to remind you all what brought us here today. Exhibit A:

That’s right. This beautiful, good man. But more specifically, this, Exhibit B:

What exactly the hell this is has teased inquiring minds for years, one can safely presume. There have been theories and inquiry into the neckwear of antiquity. But this man’s fashion sense has eluded precise articulation. The prevailing theory is that it is a cravat, but a Google Image Search shows otherwise. Exhibit C:

A cravat seems to be like an extra puffy necktie scarf thing. It certainly does not flutter to that extent, being tucked inside the shirt.

An alternate, but equally doomed theory arose–that of the jabot. Exhibit D:

A more likely option, with the layers and the fluttering, but, please observe again Exhibit B:

See how the collar is a few inches tall, with dimples in the cloth, around his neck, and how the fluttery layers seem to come out from the top of it and down? Here’s an image of him in his daily asskicking duties to compare as well, Exhibit E:

Well, it clearly doesn’t have the thin collar and flat lay of the jabot, because the fluttery front comes over the top of the collar, not attached to the bottom like the jabot.

I too was resigned to ambiguity, until I was sitting on my bedroom floor writing fanfiction one Sunday afternoon and my mom brought me something. She had been cleaning out her closet and found something interesting from her Los Angeles department store days in the 1980s. It is a booklet guide from Nordstrom on how to wear scarves. The booklet, Exhibit F, is in such a state due to Dog:

Cute, wholesome, etc. But the true revelation waited inside. Citizens of the jury, my decisive evidence, Exhibit G:

[Transcript: 6 SQUARE SCARVES 1. Take a square scarf and make accordian (sic) pleats from top to bottom 2. Wrap around neck and flip one end over the other. 3. Fan out pleats and wear off to the side or in front.]

BROS DO U SEE THIS RN??? This shit has the exact same features that were missing in the cravat and jabot, and is identical to the Chest Kleenex on this beautiful man. Once more, Exhibit B:

Conclusion: He’s been wearing a specially folded square scarf this whole time. The prosecution rests. *mic drop*

*hasty scrambling to pick up dropped mic* The prosecution takes official notice that there are three layers of ruffle in every official art, not two. The prosecution saw that just now and has no idea how that could be but stands behind its argument. Okay, thanks guys. *puts mic back into stand*

away from the sun

soulmate au 

pairing: taehyung | reader
genre: fluff and soft angst
word count: 20.409
warnings: none
author’s note: this story involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :) 


Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.

It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.

Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.

Keep reading