i kind of want her to come back

anonymous asked:

I understand what you meant in the post about people coming back when Taylor does to reblog their posts a lot. But I feel shitty reading it. I haven't used my TS blog in months as there hasn't been anything major happening. I've really missed using this blog and I'm happy to be using it and seeing the fandom again. I'm not back to get attention. I've never been noticed by her and I don't expect to be. But I kind of feel like maybe I shouldn't have come back and reentered the fandom ✨✨✨

✨✨✨especially after reading your post. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad and I probably took your post the wrong way. I just wanted to mention it since I kind of felt bad for jumping back on right when Taylor makes a move . I’m sorry this is so long.

look, I’m not saying that people who have been gone because of inactivity in the fandom or people who have been gone because they, I dunno, have lives, are who I’m upset at.

It’s more along the lines of people who are only here to be noticed by taylor.

you my friend have nothing to worry or apoligize for, don’t ever let a fandom ruin something or make you feel as if you don’t belong. you always belong here with us. 

Scavenger Hunt

Stiles/Derek, T, 2500 words, Meet Cute AU

Written for the following prompt:

“i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au

“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles calls out as he wrestles his roll bag over their entry mat.

“That’s still not funny,” Scott says, without looking up from his textbook.

“Once again, we disagree.”

Scott snorts. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” he says, plopping down right in the middle of the living room to start unpacking. “Typical conference. Some sessions were actually interesting, most were boring as shit.”

Scott hums, already absorbed again in his reading. Stiles reaches for the zipper on his suitcase but then freezes—this is definitely the same brand as his suitcase, but he doesn’t remember this extra zippered pocket on the top.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

Stiles grimaces. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t my suitcase. Goddamn it.”

Scott finally looks up, frowning. “Shit, really? How’d you manage that?”

“It was a redeye,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. “I was exhausted, in fucking LaGuardia, and I was just trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.”

“Is there a name on it? Are you sure it’s not yours?”

“Pretty sure,” Stiles says, feeling around the sides for the pocket. He sighs when he pulls out the little card and sees that it’s blank. “Motherfucker. This is definitely not my suitcase because I’m actually smart enough to put my name on it.”

“Sorry, man,” Scott says sympathetically as Stiles falls back on the rug with an anguished groan.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Open it,” Scott suggests. “Maybe there’s something with their name on it.”

Stiles fiddles with the zipper. He’s nosy as hell, in general, and normally he’d be jumping at the chance to rifle through someone else’s personal belongings. But… 

“What if there’s like, dead bodies in there or something?” he asks, and Scott just stares at him for a second. Stiles rolls his eyes—that’s a perfectly valid concern. Or maybe he watches too many police procedurals, whatever. “Okay, fine.”

Stiles holds his breath as he slowly unzips the suitcase, but nothing happens when he lets the top part flop back onto their crappy, threadbare rug. There’s a Dodgers hat on top, and Stiles grimaces. “Well, they have shitty taste in baseball teams.”

He sets the hat carefully aside and keeps digging. The person is neat, whoever they are, because everything is folded, and all the dirty clothes are even all contained in their own zippered bag. At first glance, there’s nothing too out of the ordinary—phone charger, American Gods, Calvin Klein briefs. Fancy, he thinks. There’s a monogrammed leather toiletry bag (DSH, he commits those initials to memory), and he pokes through it.

“I’m gonna make an educated guess that it’s a guy.”

“Why’s that?” Scott says, finally looking somewhat interested in this mystery.

Stiles holds up an electric razor. “And that he’s maybe not totally straight,” he says, brandishing a little bottle of lube that’s about three-quarters full.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Lots of people use lube.”

“Yeah, but do you travel with it?” Stiles counters, and Scott sighs.

“No,” he admits. “Did you find anything with his actual name on it?”

“Not yet,” Stiles says absently. He continues to rifle through the bag until he’s pretty sure he has his plan of attack. “Okay. I’m gonna find out who it is,” he says with a determined nod, and Scott frowns.

“How? This is New York City! There are literally millions of dudes here.”

“It’ll be like a real-life scavenger hunt,” Stiles says dreamily, ignoring Scott as he carefully lays his three chosen items out on the coffee table. “This is awesome.”

Keep reading

Do you understand?

I don’t think there’s enough emphasis being put on this line.

Let’s review…

Jon wakes up and the first thing he tells her is how sorry he is about Viserion. He gets that these are her children and even goes so far as to take her hand to comfort her – which is something he’s never done before. It’s an incredibly sweet moment of vulnerability on Jon’s part, literally reaching out to her in the hope that she’ll understand that she’s not alone. And she accepts it… for a moment. But she releases his hand fairly quickly.

Now, I thought that was kind of strange because Dany has been pretty transparent about her interest in Jon (maybe not so much to him, but her terror when he said he was leaving and her insistence on watching for him atop the wall and sitting at his bedside and, come on, she’s totally into him) and Dany isn’t one to back down when she wants something.

But she lets go of his hand and Jon… Well, Jon takes it in stride. He sees she’s trying to be strong but he doesn’t really get why until a little later.

Later, she says, “They’re the only children I’ll ever have.” And she could have stopped there – but she doesn’t. Instead, she adds the question, “Do you understand?”

Don’t you see?!? This is her telling him, “Here’s your chance to run. Here’s your chance to change your mind. I can’t help you further your line. I can’t give you what men traditionally want more than anything in the world.”

So she let go of his hand to distance herself from him emotionally – not to protect herself but to protect him. Tyrion has just told her that Jon loves her and she wants him to have all the facts before he gets too deep. This is an incredibly selfless act of love.

He loves her. She knows it. She loves him. We all know it. But she tries to warn him off because she doesn’t want him to give up his chance to have kids. (I mean it’s no coincidence that Jorah said something about handing down that sword earlier in the ep.)

And Jon, absolutely perfect and honorable Jon, understands the real question and he doesn’t run. Later in the conversation when she takes his hand back, he squeezes it in reassurance. He’s here for her. She’s his queen.

“They’ll come to see you for what you are.”

“I hope I deserve it.”

“You do.”

UGH. These two are as perfect for each other as I always hoped they’d be.

she’s all wit and wildness, all brilliance and beauty
she’s the type of kindness I want to be


because she smiles during rainstorms 
and screams at the stars


and her laughter is the sound that makes flower bloom
and her rage, oh, it’s the thing that burns empires


because she stands up and never keeps quiet
and she’s always there to hold my hand when things get terrifying 


she’s the sunrise after the winter solstice 
the thing that looks gone but just comes back even stronger


and she sometimes doesn’t realize that there’s no limits on her power
she is fireworks gleaming overhead, bursting and crackling in chaos

—  Invincible, that’s what she is by Abby S
Your hands are Really Nice- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

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

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

————————————————————————————-


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


Keep reading

I. Watch those old cliché love story movies
I know you like. Admire the way he kisses
her, holds her eyes in the palm of his hand
like a jewel. Learn from him.

II. Hold me when something seems off.
Press your lips to my forehead as if they are
a band-aid, mend the wound, and promise
not to rip it off too quickly when they part from
my skin. You have always known that I am a
sensitive thing. Adhere to it. Pay attention to
when I need your softness.

III. Here, let me hand you a list of all of the
things I wish you could do, not wish you could
be. This is not an attempt at me trying to change
you, dear, this is an attempt at trying to save
what may have very well been doomed in the
first place. I want you to feel the same fire that
I do. I want you to burn, just as I do. I want you
to feel how it is to be the scarred remains of
what is me, and understand why I yearn for the
kind of healing that I do. I want you to play
surgeon and piece my body back together.

IV. Look over your ex-girlfriend’s text messages
to her current boyfriend. “Good morning,
beautiful”, “I hope you have a wonderful day”,
and “dream sweetly when you sleep” should
come as second nature to you. I once was
this person, and I’ve been drained of all the
adoration I can spare by not receiving it in
return. I am not a flower that can stay in
constant bloom, and if you think I can, then
I’m sorry to tell you, but the garden you are
searching for does not exist in this graveyard of
a girl.

V. I want to feel wanted.
I want to feel wanted.
I want to feel wanted.
Does this help you understand?

—  a list regarding how you can love me as wholly as you want to make it seem // Haley Hendrick
WORKING WITH APHRODITE

Here are my experiences with working with Aphrodite (specifically, although these can likely be applied to most, if not all deity) These are exclusively my own individual experiences and by no means the rules or structure.

✩ Your altar to her should reflect the type of beauty you wish to radiate, On my altar I have a statue of her sitting on a platform to help raise her as the focal point, surrounded with dried roses, honeysuckle, jasmine and hibiscus flowers. fresh flowers are fantastic but not always financially permitting, unless you grow them or have access to them I don’t believe it is essential to always have fresh flowers, however I will touch base on this later on. My altar also includes rose quartz chunks and various sea shells.

✩ I began my relationship with her the same as I would an acquaintance, I don’t believe you would ever approach someone in reality and immediately ask them for a favor without knowing them, the same goes for deity. You should build a relationship, shes an intelligent entity, she knows you want something from her so by making it clear from the get go, you will likely see better results (you scratch my back I scratch yours kind of logic)

✩ Sitting down in front of her altar and talking to her as if she was your friend really helps improve the relationship, sure it sounds crazy sitting in your room chatting to a statue or a photo of her, but this helps immensely. I would come home from a long day and chat for about 20 minutes - “I hope your day was well, I did this and that…” 

✩ if you see a pretty flower or crystal whilst you are out and about, bring it home and set it out as an offering, stating that this is a gift for her. The same goes for lighting a candle, I would make an effort to at least twice a week set a candle on her altar and as I lit it, would announce “I light this candle in your honor”. The goal is to make her apart of your life as much as you can, within reason.

✩ Look for any signs, for example, recently I went for a walk up to the forest, which is known for its dense bush, with ferns and tall trees and lots of greenery, upon meditating I asked if she could send me a blessing, as I walked off I was inclined to leave the beaten path and explore the woods, I followed the deer tracks through the dense woods, and found, to my surprise 3-4 large pink rose bushes! (the birds must’ve carried the seeds) The love that was radiating from them made me feel incredible!  This was my definite sign she was listening, as she is commonly associated with roses and they are never found in the wild where I live.

✩ If you notice things starting to go well in your life, in regards to feeling better about yourself, having more people look you over, improved relationships with loved ones or even more messages on the dating app you use, as opposed to normal. take it upon yourself to purchase fresh flowers, place in a vase on her altar as an offering of thanks, of course this can be costly, but I have noticed that if you practice the art of giving, especially with Aphrodite, you continue to gain her favor and hopefully a life long working relationship with her.

Aphrodite is an incredibly loving and forgiving energy, she is easy to work with so long as you show your thanks and trust her.

I hope this helps some people in where to start, there is no right or wrong way, and often just offering what you have will be enough. I wish you all the best of luck! 

lordmushroomkat  asked:

Writing request. Klance. Mutual pining. Supportive mechanical telepathic cat-parents.

man i feel like I could easily write 15 000 words about this haha. Trying to make this idea small is hard, but let’s give it a go. 

“So what do we do? We’re a paladin down now.” Pidge states. It’s a topic they’ve been dancing around. Shiro is gone, and yes of course they will find him again, but until then they can’t just… not form Voltron. 

“Keith takes black. Yeah ok, so that’s resolved.” Pidge continues.

“Are we honestly…” Lance starts to interrupt.

“But there’s STILL five lions.” Pidge shoots Lance a look. She knows he wants to argue the leader Keith point, but that’s another discussion. 

“We need another paladin.” She concludes. The group all stare at each other, not sure of what to suggest. The air is stale. 

“I….” Allura starts. Coran grabs her arm protectively. She turns to him with an understanding smile, pats his hand, and steps out of his grip.

“I will fill in.” Her commanding voice rings in the Lion’s hangar. Hunk nervously wrings his hands. Keith looks skeptical. 

“Princess, we need you to…”

“Who else do we have?!” Allura implores. “No one knows the lions like I do. I’m already a part of this team, so it’ll be easier for me to bond than some outsider!”  

The others all share a look. It had to be Allura. Of course it did. But it was a shame that it had to come to this. 

“Who will you pilot?” Hunk moves the discussion forward. Allura smiles and taps her chin thoughtfully. Her eyes move around to look at all the lions. She sighs at a fond memory. 

“My father was the red paladin, and if Keith is piloting black then…” Allura steps towards the red lion. She smiles and places her hand on its barrier. It vibrates under her touch, but does not break.

“It just seems logical.” There’s fondness in her blue eyes. She leans forward and places both palms on the barrier.

“Of course there is the issue of the red lion being the most temperamental so…” Allura laughs. The barrier doesn’t budge under her. Still keeping her out. Keith shakes his head. 

“She doesn’t like it when you call her that.” He sings.

Allura winces. She pats the barrier gently. 

“Ah, sorry girl. I didn’t mean it.” She coos. “I understand how important your paladin is. I know how much you need to trust them. I don’t want to push, but please… please I need you to…” Allura pauses. Her mouth goes taut. She stares at the giant beast in front of her trying to sense it. She leans against the barrier with a frustrated sigh. 

“How did you do this, Keith? I can tell this isn’t working at all.”

“I blasted myself out of an airlock if you must know.”

“Guys, guys,” Lance holds up his hands. “You’re going about this all wrong. For blue and I…. it was like love at first sight!” Lance saunters over to where Allura stands. 

“Your lion is your lady, and she has to know that you are going to love and respect her. You can’t grovel, you gotta woo her.” Lance stands next to Allura. 

“Mind if I show you?” He grins. Allura rolls her eyes.

“Oh yes please. Demonstrate for all of us.” 

Lance rises to the bait. He clears his throat. 

“Hello Red, you look radiant as always. Would it be ok if I spent the evening with you?” He raises his hand to knock on the barrier. 

He immediately falls through. With a vibration and a crackle, he stumbles into the red lions perimeter. He catches himself before he eats cement. He turns to beam at everyone. They look on with disbelief. Particularly Keith.

“See!” Lance exclaims happily. His voice sounds distant and crackly inside the barrier. “Just like that!” He turns to shoot finger guns at the red lion. “Thanks red, you’re beautiful. i love you. Ok Allura, if you just want to…”

Lance bumps against the barrier.

He stares at it in confusion. He tries to step forward and bumps against it once more.

‘What…?” He whispers. 

“Oh no…” Allura stares. Pidge’s eyes widen. Keith starts to look manic. 

Allura, Hunk and Pidge all touch the barrier. None of them can get in.

And Lance can’t get out.

Lance starts to push harder against the barrier. 

“Guys, I can’t…. how do I…?”

“Lance, Lance…” Allura shakes her head. She holds his gaze through the barrier. 

“She’s chosen you.”

Lance’s chest goes cold. He turns over his shoulder to look at the monstrous lion. The red glow around him is bright and hurts his eyes. Nothing like the soothing aura of Blue.

“What?! No! No! Nononono! Blue’s my lion! I’m not giving her up!” Lance beats on the barrier. it flickers underneath his fists. 

“Let me out! Keith! Come talk to your lion! Get me out of here! Tell her I can’t do this! I WON’T do this!”

“Lance, it’s ok. I’m coming I’ll…” Keith smacks into the barrier. So confident that it would peel away for him, that he hadn’t even tried to slow down. He rubs his knee that collided and hisses. He raises his hand to the barrier and pushes. It firmly pushes back. 

“Lance…” He breathily whispers. Lance places his palm opposite Keith’s, so they look like they are touching, but the barrier crackles firmly between them.

“I can’t get in.” His breath shakes with emotion. “She wants you. She’s chosen you.”

Lance blinks away tears. 

“B…but Blue. Blue’s mine. No one can….”

Soft footfalls echo across the hangar. Allura has taken off and runs towards where Blue stands. At a full sprint, she charges forwards and Blue’s barrier easily dissolves around her.

“Alright!” Alurra gives a victorious cheer. Blue lurches forward, opening its mouth ready for Allura to board. 

Lance’s heart breaks. He falls forward. Keith worries his lip and presses himself as close to Lance as he can. Hunk and Pidge wisely walk away. 

“Lance. Lance, I’m so sorry.” Keith whispers. His voice rattles in the comms of Lance’s helmet. 

“But out of everyone here…Red has chosen you. She needs you. Can’t you feel her?”

“But she’s yours, Keith. She’s yours and you’re hers.” Lance’s voice trembles. He looks up into Keith’s face. 

“I know. And she’ll always be mine so….” Keith swallows. “I’ll need you to take really good care of her. She’s trusting you, Lance. I’m trusting you.” Keith looks up with glassy eyes. Blue may have let Allura in, but here Red was actively locking her own paladin out. A surge of sympathy courses through Lance.

“Keith, I’ll…”

Metallic whirring causes lance to turn. Red has bowed down and opened her mouth wide, inviting Lance in.

“You have to go.” Keith states and turns to leave. Lance goes to grab him, but his hand smacks painfully against the barrier.

“Keith wait!” He calls. Keith pauses. His eyebrows knit together and he waits. Lance steps back from the barrier with a frustrated sigh. 

“If I…If I could hug you I would.” He announces. Keith’s eyes widen. 

Keep reading

Muñeca.

Paring: Bucky Barnes/Hispanic!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Reader being a HUGE flirt, spanish, talk about books and music in spanish, fingering, sofa sex, Bucky using some words in spanish. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1881.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

Apparently some people in this fandom (read White People) have a problem with authors writing for readers of color, since I am a real Bitch and I’m fresh out of fucks I decided I was gonna write not one, but two POC Reader inserts, this is one of them. The next one is gonna be Black!Reader and Bucky. This is dedicated to that anon @papi-chulo-bucky got last week who was crying about Haunting Me being a POC reader insert and, of course, to all the other bitches who want to complain about POC!Reader inserts being discriminatory towards White People.

Yes, I’m The Queen of Salt.

Tagging; @sexylibrarian1 @thecrownedrose @erisjade @bladebarnes @ryverpenrad @acunningstargazer @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @supernatural-girl97 @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

I mention my dad’s favorite book “Love in the Time of Cholera” by Gabriel García Márquez, you should check his books out.

Also, mentioned in the fic this argentinian group (hey! @connieisland) called Soda Stereo here are two songs one and two

And the lyrics are from this song by a Venezuelan rapper called Reis Belico.

Wow. This was long. By the way, Muñeca means doll.


Keep reading

“Bringing in Maggie Sawyer [Floriana Lima] really ruffled my character’s feathers and pushed Alex to start tapping into something and to feel something that she never let herself feel before. That discovery led to her coming out as a lesbian, which is such a fantastic storyline and huge in terms of growth for my character. She’s had this push and pull of figuring out who she was, who she is now and how all that works together. That, in turn, has made the stakes even higher for Alex, because along with Kara, there’s now someone else, Maggie, who she also cares about a great deal and in a very different way. Acting-wise, the big challenge for me was trying to feel what Alex was experiencing for the first time insofar as having those types of feelings for someone else. I was nervous, not only for her as a character, but also myself because I had never faced that with Alex before. It was, again, this back and forth of her being more vulnerable and kind of riding that wave of, I’m in a relationship, isn’t that awesome, but oh, wait a sec, I have to deal with this nine-foot alien over here. So all these various dynamics have been swirling around me, which has been a lot of fun, but definitely challenging, too.“

"I had no idea that was coming until right before we started production on Season 2,” recalls the actress. “From a personal standpoint I wanted to be part of the casting process for the Maggie character. The storyline is just so huge, and from a respectful and responsible standpoint it’s one that I was really adamant about doing correctly. It could have been handled, not vaguely, but not as sensitively as I feel it should be. Thankfully, the show’s creators are so thoughtful when it comes to the whole creative process, which truly is a collaborative one on Supergirl. I wanted to make sure the actress playing Maggie was, among other things, really hip and cool, which I explained on the phone to the producers. Vibe is so important on-set and being able to get along with your coworkers makes a big difference. Floriana was the second of three actresses I read with, and as soon as she walked out of the audition room I said, ‘That’s her’, and everyone else knew it, too. We had such a great connection, the chemistry was there right off the bat, and everyone felt it. Alex and Maggie are both really strong people, and to show any vulnerability is quite challenging in and of itself, but then to be in that relationship definitely stretches them quite a bit as human beings. Floriana sees our onscreen relationship the same way I do, and it’s really important to us that when you watch Alex and Maggie trying to work something out that it’s obviously not easy for either of them.”

Sci-Fi Magazine, June 2017  source

when there’s a girl who finally likes you and you think she’s going to confess to you but you like another girl so before she gets the chance to tell you she likes you, you start telling her how there’s another girl who you like but then an older city boy appears and you assume it’s her boyfriend and that you completely misunderstood the situation

Dark Souls’ Kings And Lords

Gwyn: I will raise this son as a daughter and in general take a whole diarrhea on him regardless of his merits and accomplishments because he was born aligned to a different aspect than me. I will also disown my other son and erase any records of his identity and history. I embarked on genocide of dragons for possibly very shady reasons, and was fully on board with a dangerous project to recreate that which cannot be replicated, resulting in a catastrophic failure that mutated a wise and peaceful civilization into murderous beast. You are supposed to feel bad about having to kill me, as the sad piano that plays while we duke it out suggests.

King of Oolacile: Dude, what if we totally dabbled in the forbidden arts with our golden sorceries (read: utility spells) as our only back-up and tortured this ancient conglomeration of twisted existences that we revived just to satisfy our sick curiosity? That’d be RAD, I hope nothing about this bites us in the ass down the lane, am I right.

The Four Kings: Man, it was really a challenge, but we finally got this whole New Londo jimjam going strong and steady! *phone rings* GUYS, THIS SNAKE THAT ANTAGONIZES EVERYTHING WE STAND FOR PROMISES TO TEACH US THE 120% ILLEGAL ART OF LIFEDRAIN, LET’S ROLL, I MEAN, WHAT’S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN?

King Vendrick: *playing the harmonica off-note in his shitty crypt* I married this really hot chick but she turned out to be, like, a literal aspect of darkness hell-bent on the obliteration of civilization, so, hey, whatevs, man, you gotta compromise in marriage, right? *takes a swig of a black label Johnnie Walker* she then was like “honey, you gotta murderize that entire civilization of peaceful giants”, so we did! It was GREAT, we lost over half of our population, I redefined the concept of “war crime”, it was mad cool, man, well, except for the part where I realized what I had done, engaged full pussy mode, and locked myself in a crypt, where I took to wandering naked and afraid while my bodyguard protects me, despite the fact that I am insanely strong and immortal and wise. WHATCHA GONNA DO *LIFTS ARMS IN MOCK SURRENDER* *LAUGH TRACK PLAYS*

Duke Tseldora: SPIDERS

The Sunken King: Whew! That took a LOT of time, but we finally did it! We built a whole city around this slumbering dragon, our object of worship! This is, in no way, a dangerous idea at all. You know what is also not dangerous? Why, those famed Dragonslayers coming over by yonder, the Drakeblood Knights, led by Sir Yorgh, famed Dragonslayer! Let’s see what they want!

Old Iron King: LOOK AT ALL THIS METAL, HOMIE. LOOK AT MY COOL ASS SAMURAI MAN TEACHING MY KNIGHTS TO BE SAMURAI, HOMIE. LOOK AT THIS BITCHIN’ FUCKIN’ FORMER DRANGLEIC KNIGHT, RAIME, WHO CAME TO SERVE ME, HOMIE. YEAH BABY, WE GOT IT ALL IN THE IRON KINGDOM, WE GOT THESE CROSS-CULTURAL SAMURAI KNIGHTS PIMPING UP THE PLACE WITH PLATE ARMOR AND IAI, MAN, AND WE– H-hold on, Alonne, baby? Where you going, man? Baby, no, I can change, I swear, please come back, baby, NO, BABY, ALONNE *SHANKS ALONNE* aw fiddlesticks well I guess my kingdom goes to fuck now ‘cause I will throw the biggest, meanest tantrum in the history of big diaper pissbabies LET’S GO

Ivory King: Hello! I love you! Yes, you! Whoever is reading this, I love you! I really do! And while I love you a lot, there’s someone I love even more, and that’s my beautiful wife, Alsanna! God, I love my wife, she’s so beautiful and kind and smart, I just want her to be happy forever. I know, she’s a literal aspect of darkness who came with evil intentions and zealous desire to raze my lands, but, I know that anyone, anyone, is capable of redemption, and my love has confirmed that. I love my wife, and I love my kingdom Eleum Loyce, my capable knights, my beautiful tigers, my kingdom of snow and peace! Wanna know a secret? I built my kingdom right on top of the Old Chaos to contain it, to keep it in check, so it wouldn’t rampage across the world. Ah, I’m really sad to have to cut this short, but my soul, well, it wavers. After so many years of fighting it, my very fabric is yielding to the overwhelming chaos. As an ultimate act of sacrifice, I will give myself to the Flame, contain the whole essence of the Old Chaos within my body, and keep it wrested to the ground, so it can never harm anyone evermore. I am glad to have met you, but I must go now. Please live a wonderful life! Shout out to my beautiful wife!

Yhorm the Giant: *hands you the one thing that can kill him* I AM HONESTLY TRYING TO MAKE THINGS BETTER, PLEASE TRUST ME. AND IF I GO COO-COO, USE THAT TO KILL ME, AND ALSO, I AM PUTTING AWAY MY GREATSHIELD SO IT IS EASIER TO HIT ME IN CASE I GO BAD, BUT PLEASE, I AM JUST TRYING TO BE GOOD, BRUSH YOUR SEATBELT AND FASTEN YOUR TEETH.

Oceiros, the Consumed King: *spams your Facebook feed with photos of his invisible baby*

Nameless King: Funny story, but I am actually not a king. Anyways, check out these delayed attacks and these FPS drops.

Prince Lothric: What If Stay Home Instead

ᴄʟᴜsᴛᴇʀ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ + ɴᴇᴡ sᴛʀᴀᴛᴇɢʏ.

After an hour spent discussing anything we saw as relevant with Netflix, this is the outcome of the situation:

Netflix accepts our help in the promotion of Sense8.

It was stated that Netflix will only commence to promote the special once the release date is closer.

However they would be delighted if until then we could continue with our campaign.

We have the green light to organise billboards, and any type of promotion as long as we don’t make any profit from it. Billboards however are out of questions for us fans because the costs are too high, however we can organise flyers and distribute those. Or those paper posters you can stick to walls for everyone to see.

Viewership is very important. Rewatching the show definitely counts however she refused to give me a number. Netflix doesn’t, under any circumstances, release this type of data and there she was very clear. (This is no news but we are including ANYTHING that was discussed just not to leave any kind of plot hole or unanswered questions.)

Regarding season renewal she said there is no talk about this at the moment, which we all were aware about.

I asked her IF we organised numbers, meaning old members back and new members in if Netflix would agree to a renewal.

She said it’s possible. I asked if it was possible to receive those words in an official statement coming directly from the Netflix page for our Cluster to read.

She didn’t want to say much on it and kept going around her words and was afraid to say too much, but what she kept making clear is “Feedback is what makes the decisions”.

So we have to organise email days in which we contact all the people above the customer service. Reed Hastings and all chiefs executive and whoever is above. Those emails need to be focused on Netflix making a statement regarding them being open to negotiations.

One of the @Global_Cluster representative is working on writing templates that we can all use as it is VITAL to stick to the script and not go off topic.

She said numbers are the alpha and omega of Netflix.
So we HAVE to bring back our subscriptions but also bring in new people.

——

Merchandise. We’ll be getting DVDs 100%. They just don’t have a release date but she told me to sit tight and I said we won’t. 😂

She said Orange is the New Black as well as House of Cards have their DVDs already so she doesn’t see why we shouldn’t be getting Sense8 ones.

———

Regarding comic con well there wasn’t much to say about it because they have nothing to do with the organisation so it’s yet again all up to us.

—————

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴜʀ sᴛʀᴀᴛᴇɢʏ.


𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓:

The feeling good project comes in different stages. The first stage is focused on bringing back our subscriptions back in masses.

ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴏᴜʀ sᴜʙsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴇɴᴇᴡᴀʟ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜsᴛᴏᴍᴇʀ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍ ɴᴇᴛғʟɪx ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇɴᴇᴡɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ sᴜʙsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ sᴇɴsᴇ8, ᴛʜᴇʏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ.

The second stage of the Feeling Good Project consists in promotion: As we mentioned above, billboards are way too expensive but we can organise groups in each city that can print in colours some flyers to give around and maybe stick posters to walls like the ones you see for concerts or local festival, any kind of visibility is great.

We should also contact conventions other than SDCC and see if there’s still time for them to make a Sense8 panel happen. More on this later.

The third stage of the Feeling Good Project is focused on rewatch parties. We will organise a schedule to mass rewatch Season 2 all together and live tweet, so we will bring views as well as attract more attention towards the show.

#Sense8Rewatch it’s the hashtag we will follow during the live tweets.

The fourth stage of the Feeling Good Project consists in getting the FunkoPop industry to produce the Sense8 Cluster for us. A banner has already been created and we’ll be posting it in due time.

The FINAL and second most important stage of the Feeling Good Project consists in a rally.

We need to organise PACIFIC rallies in front of the most important Netflix offices which are in Amsterdam, Paraiso, Tokyo, Seoul and Los Gatos. We require the help of the locals to organise those.

The rally will only consist on people standing outside the Netflix offices with Banners, posters and anything requesting a season renewal.

—————–

We will be organising everything for you with specific dates so please for now this is all you need to know, trust us we are working hard to get you the best results.

With love, your Global Cluster.

2

Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz

Letting out an irritated groan, [Y/N] rolled over in her bed. With her eyes still closed, she pawed for her phone that was obnoxiously buzzing on her night stand. Yanking the charger out, she opened an eye to see that it was a facetime from Tom is better than Harrison👍👌🙌. Groaning again, she slid to answer.

“You better have a damn good reason why you’re facetiming me at three in the morning, Holland.” Regrettably sitting up, she tried to adjust to the brightness of her phone.

Tom gave an apologetic grin, “I miss you, does that count as a good enough reason?” 

[Y/N] tried to fight back the smile but gave in. Playfully rolling her eyes, she squinted at his surroundings. It appeared that he was at the beach and that it was sunnier than hell. She instantly became jealous. “I was going to let it be a good enough reason but now I see your ass is at the beach and I’m pissed again.” 

“Oh but love,” Tom pouted. “I can’t help if I’m shooting near the beach.” Jutting out his bottom lip, he pulled his sunglasses up on top his head. “If it helps, it’s really not that much fun.” 

“Mhm, yeah okay.” She said sarcastically.

“I’m being completely one hundred percent serious.” Tom flinched when a fan walked past and waved. It always made [Y/N] giggle when fans did that. It always caught him off guard and he’d have mini heart attacks because he’d never be aware of his surroundings when he facetimed with her. “I really do miss you.” 

Shifting into a better position, she laid on her side with her head propped on her hand. “I miss you too.” 

“Will you please come to me?” Tom asked. 

[Y/N] took a deep inhale, she hated when Tom asked her that. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, it was because she hated planes. She became extremely anxious and would nearly have a panic attack every time. “You know I can’t.” She finally said.

Tom frowned, “Please, baby.” 

“Tom…” 

“I promise it won’t be that bad. You just have to make it here and then you’ll have me on the way back. I just miss you so much.” Tom pleaded, he hated being away from her for too long. It made him go a little mental when he was apart from [Y/N]. 

“I’d be on a six hour flight, Tom.” [Y/N] whined. “And then getting used to the time zone switch.” 

“Please,” Tom dragged out. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He wiggled his brows and laughed at her expression. 

“Is that why you want me to endure a six hour anxiety induced flight because you just want some?” She asked with a raised brow. 

Tom laughed again. “I mean it wouldn’t be a bad thing to get some if you came.” 

“Thomas Stanley Holland, if only your mother heard you right now.” She warned. 

“I’d be in a shit load of trouble.” Tom responded as he took a seat on a bench. “I’m almost certain she believes we’re still virgins.” 

“I don’t think you give your mother enough credit. We’re twenty and have stayed in multiple hotel rooms together since we were eighteen. I’m sure she knows we’re not saving ourselves for marriage.” 

“Well I am. I’m saving all of me just for you.” 

Rolling her eyes, she yawned. “Wrap it up, kid. I’m sleepy.” 

“[Y/N] [M/N] [L/N], please for the love of god, will you get on the next plane and come to me.” 

“Tom,” she whined again. “I’m seriously about to have a panic attack thinking about it. What do you think is going to happen if I do get on a plane for six hours.” 

“You’ll probably hyperventilate and scare the shit out everyone that’s sitting beside you.” Tom shrugged his shoulders at her expression, “You asked.” 

“I hate you sometimes.”

“No you don’t.” 

“I really do.” 

“Ahh, you really don’t.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“I mean I could if you were here.” 

“Thomas!” [Y/N] shrieked. 

Laughing, Tom ran a hand through his hair. “Babe, just please come. I really need you. I’m getting so unbelievably stressed out right now and you always know what to do and say to make me feel better.” 

[Y/N] groaned, she hated when Tom used that whole ‘you make my stress go away’ ruse. But, she knew at the same time that it wasn’t just a trick to get her there. She really didn’t know how she made Tom’s stress disappear but she did. “Baby.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” She groaned. “When I wake up later, I’ll look up the flights okay?”

Tom smiled, “Let me know which one and I’ll pay for it, okay?” 

“Absolutely not.” She countered. 

“What? Yes.” Tom snapped back, his brow raised. “I kind of peer pressured you into coming here, so let me pay for it okay?” 

“And let you pay for my hotel room too? This is how it goes, you always pay for everything.” 

“Of course not. You’re staying with me.” Tom grinned, “And I’m supposed to and before you hit me with the whole sexist shit, it’s also because I want to. You’re my Queen, baby.” 

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Won’t be soon enough. I love you, get some sleep.”

“I love you too and don’t worry I plan on it.” She blew him a kiss and ended the call. Setting her phone back on her nightstand, she sighed into her pillow. Reaching down to pull the collar of the hoodie she wore to her nose, she inhaled Tom’s scent. At least she’ll get to steal another hoodie of his when she visits. [Y/N] couldn’t even begin to count the number of his hoodies she had in her closet. And she was amazed that he kept buying them knowing that they would end up with her. 

Smiling as she fell asleep, she couldn’t wait to see and feel him again. 

Thank you for 9,000 followers! Here’s a ficlet about Mari being protective of her little brother.


“Hopefully you can help me,” said the man on the phone with the funny accent. “My name is Victor Nikiforov, and I’m looking for Yuuri Katsuki. He said his family owns a hot springs resort, so I looked up the phone number on the internet. Can you tell me if I have the right place?”

Mari almost hung up immediately without offering a response. Ever since Yuuri had inadvertently become a viral video star after performing one of Victor Nikiforov’s routines, the onsen had gotten more than a few prank calls. One person had pretended to be a reporter but had instead turned out to be one of Victor’s crazy fans. Apparently this new caller wanted Mari to believe he was Victor Nikiforov himself.

Yeah, right.

“Yuuri’s my brother,” she said, a little heat in her tone.

“Oh, great!” the prankster said. “Could I speak with him please?”

Mari rolled her eyes. Was that supposed to be a real Russian accent? This guy’s impression of Victor was pathetic.

Keep reading

6

“She was born dirt poor to a mother who never wanted her, didn’t like her, was physically abusive to her. Her father left before she was born. She was mistreated her whole childhood, was involved in a sexual relationship with her stepfather from the time she was eleven, and was farmed out to schools supposedly to get an education but really as a little work horse. She said herself that she never got anything beyond a fifth-grade education. When she arrived in Hollywood she said that MGM was the only family she ever knew. They taught her how to speak in that very artificial mid-Atlantic accent that has nothing to do with her upbringing. She was determined to be a lady. When she married Douglas Fairbanks Jr., she used to study [his stepmother, screen star] Mary Pickford and how every fork was placed…she worked hard. She was ambitious. She wanted this. She worked at it, and when she achieved stardom, she protected that entity, that product- Joan Crawford- like a she-wolf. For Joan, [making it in Hollywood] really was survival for her. Coming up out of that terrible poverty and that kind of childhood, with no education…I think there was always that fear of falling back into poverty so she created this tremendous artifice.” -Jessica Lange

anonymous asked:

Eliza! :D Do a mini story of Kara meeting Lena in the train to London! If you would like? Or like, something with Kara and Lena in the UK, in a place you like? If you're not inspired then no worries, I wish you a good day <3

there’s a distractingly athletic girl walking down the train, counting seats. lena lets herself watch until the girl is five rows away and then she returns her eyes to her computer screen.

“thirty six, thirty five, thirty four, thirty three, god this train goes on forever,” she mutters and lena smiles down at an email in which she’s referred to as incompetent twice. the girl has a nice voice, american accent obvious but it’s light like it’s learned and the way she speaks the numbers is odd. lena can’t quite pinpoint what it is, exactly, and when the girl speaks again, right at lena’s side, she looks up and into unexpectedly blue eyes. “twenty seven! and a friend, hello!”

“hello,” lena returns, and the girl pulls off her hiking pack and lifts it effortlessly up into the roof racks. her shirt lifts slightly and lena looks out the window, face hot.

“would you like me to lift your bag up?”

lena knows she hadn’t brought a bag with her so the girl isn’t speaking to her - she turns, curious, and there’s the tiniest old lady lena has ever seen chatting away with lena’s “friend” in what she’s pretty sure is welsh. the suitcase is as big as the lady and the girl lifts it like it weighs nothing, tucking it neatly into place. she speaks with her for a little longer, checks the ticket and walks her to seat “thirty four!” as the girl happily announces.

finally, only a few minutes before the train is set to depart, the girl takes her own seat. she looks around for a minute for a seatbelt, grins sheepishly to lena when there isn’t one.

“hi again. i’m kara.”

she doesn’t hold her hand out or anything like that, not at first. when lena nods and says, “lena,” back, kara jumps like she’d forgotten and she holds out her hand, which lena takes. she wouldn’t normally, perhaps, but she’s nineteen and terribly gay and kara has really nice hands. they’re warm and dry and soft and wrap gently around her hand, a bit larger than lena’s own. her nails are short and broad and very clean without a hint of paint and lena looks a little abashedly at the faintly chipping purple on her own nails.

“i like the purple,” kara says, hesitating over the word purple, and lena is entranced and allows herself to be swayed away from her momentary shame. “i don’t really paint my nails, i never seem to have time for it. sometimes i paint my toes with my sister but not very often.” there’s something wistful in that and lena looks to her email and closes the top of her computer. “oh, you don’t have to do that!”

“it’s work,” lena tells her, which is as much again as she’s already said to this stranger. “i appreciate the distraction, if i’m honest.”

“in that case,” kara grins - so happily and prettily lena suspects she doesn’t realise how absolutely right she is when she says, “i am an Excellent distraction.”

kara is eighteen and taking some time off university, she tells lena exactly two minutes into their journey. she loves learning and the whole university experience, but there were so many people and sometimes, she confesses, it’s very nice to be around people you won’t see ever again.

lena nods. she can understand that.

kara doesn’t seem to mind that for every seven things she tells lena about herself, lena says one. maybe one. she just carries on, big gestures and big smiles and big stories.

“okay, okay,” kara laughs, hands up. “that’s enough from me,” she insists. lena’s sides hurt from laughing - at kara, technically, but since she was laughing too it didn’t feel mean, and really what other response to kara being dragged on stage with an improvisation crew was there? “i need to recover,”

“no please, go on,” lena teases, and she’s certain this time that kara’s eyes dip down to her lips. she’s been almost certain five times now but this time, this time she’s truly certain. her smile grows and kara flushes a light pink.

“no,” kara tells her, a little weakly. she clears her throat. “i’m, um, mortified.”

“with good reason,” lena tells her, and then dread freezes her gut because that was too mean, kara has been nothing but nice, that was nasty - but kara is laughing and nodding and lena sips at her terrible coffee, trying to unthaw. “i’m sorry,”

“no, honestly, i don’t know how i managed to get in so much trouble,” kara laughs. she drinks her coffee and makes a face.

“we can order you something else, you know,” lena offers, and relief wrecks kara’s displeased expression.

“really?”

“of course,” lena says smoothly, though this is one more in a now significantly long list of Slightly Odd Things kara has done. she can’t quite figure out how they’re connected but she can’t help noting them.

“great. it’s just, they came past with the tray and i didn’t know what they said so when you said coffee and i just copied you.” kara flushes again but it’s a miserable kind of embarrassment and lena finds herself reaching across the little table and taking kara’s hand. she rubs her thumb over the sharp knobs of her knuckles and smiles.

“i had a dreadfully boring trip,” she tells kara, ignoring her embarrassment. “i was working the entire time and the only good part so far has been you.” the words come out without planning and lena wants to snatch them back out of the air where they hang for a frozen moment but it’s too late.

kara is smiling again, a little shyly but so pleased, and lena decides she’ll just have to leave it if it makes kara smile like that.

“what are you working on?”

“wind turbines, for my brothers company. we’re looking at prototypes we can use here since they already use them.”

“that’s very cool,” kara compliments, which lena shrugs away. “smart is sexy,” she tells lena like she’s repeating it from someone, and then she flushes absolutely red and pulls her hand gently away. “i mean, that’s what i’ve heard!”

“right.” lena tries not to laugh at her, she really does, but kara lifts both hands up to hide her face and it’s so endearing lena laughs - once, loudly, and surprised by the volume she stops but can’t entirely halt the quiet laughs. she lifts one hand to cover her mouth and kara peeks over at her, the corner of her mouth tilted up in, lena examines her for a moment, perhaps the softest smile lena has ever been treated to. “kara,” lena begins, making sure that there are plenty of free seats to move to if necessary, “do you want to make out with me?”

kara stares at her for a moment, hands dropping to her lap. she licks her lips. “uh,”

lena tilts her head invitingly to the seats near them, side by side, and kara stands so quickly her head hits the roof racks above.

lena hisses sympathetically and kara is a touch slow to lift a hand, to grimace at the pain. there’s a strange creaking sound when lena stands, but she can’t be certain where it’s coming from, so she ignores it. very easily indeed when kara slides into the seat next to her and she’s warm and lena can put her hand on her thigh and the other around her neck and tug her in for a surprisingly gentle kiss. and quick.

“kara?”

“sorry i’m just,” kara grins, waves a hand very vaguely. “this is really nice and you’re so soft and you smell really good and i’m really enjoying this, it’s just really new.”

“oh.” lena pauses. “do you want to stop?”

“no! i have a great learning curve, don’t even worry!” kara reassures her about something lena hadn’t been worried about, and it has the incredible benefit of making lena think about other things kara might pick up very quickly.

“right,” she says, mostly to herself but a little to kara who is examining her like she’s something precious to memorise, and she returns the favour for a moment before leaning in slowly and pressing her lips to kara’s again, shivering when she feels kara respond, press closer, slip her hand into her thick hair and cradle the back of her head - like she’s precious, lena thinks again, and she introduces a little teeth.

it’s ridiculous how much kara likes that, and how hot she sounds when she sighs happily or moans when lena first kisses her neck, and lena finds herself abruptly furious at the thought that this might end as soon as the train pulls into london.

“what are you doing tonight?” she asks kara, who doesn’t mind that they’ve stopped, just leans back against the armrest with her mussed hair and a happy smile.

“um, going to my hostel. but nothing else. why?”

“stay with me,” lena suggests.

kara blinks. then, before lena can explain or reassure her that she’s not a serial killer, she nods. “sure. i would love that.”

lena stares at her. then, not wanting to point out all the reasons why that probably shouldn’t have been her answer, she pulls kara into another kiss.

she’s the strangest girl lena has ever met, and for maybe the first time this is someone lena wants to…to be around. not just someone to annoy her mother or to get away from home for a night or because she hasn’t spoken to someone for a week and she’s recognising the signs of loneliness, but genuine connection. and lena knows her own faults: she knows her voracity, and her wants, and her rather embarrassing desperation for someone’s entire attention, and her tendency to build relationships with the least amount of interaction as possible so she cut people very sharply out of her life with very little difficulty. but this time, she thinks, it feels different.

•To Build A Home•
Chapter 1
**********


He’s pissed off.

He’s bleeding from the huge gash on his forehead, his bike is in pieces of scrap metal on the side of River road and he’s fairly certain he’s missed his date with Tiffany… Taylor? No, it was definitely Tiffany. So yeah, he’s pissed.

Jughead Jones tucks his scratched up hands deep into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it against the wind, he inhales the familiar taste of tobacco and burnt paper and his shoulders finally slump in exhaustion.

This day sucks. It officially sucks, it’s sucked from the minute he set foot on the construction site to the time he walked into his second home, The Snake Sack Bar, he was tired, he was cranky and fuck if he wasn’t starving.

The blare of a truck horn shakes him out of his pity party, his redheaded best friend sticks his head out of the drivers seat window and grins

“Archie Andrews to the rescue! I’m here to save the damsel in distress.” He pulls to a stop beside Jughead as the dark haired man looks less than amused.

Archie’s eyes turn serious as he looks his friend over
“Seriously man, are you okay?”

Jughead shakes off his concern, he never quite got used to anyone caring about his wellbeing

“I’m fine, it’s my bike you should be worrying about. Look at her, she’s in pieces.” His hands are flailing frantically and Archie snorts

“Pieces doesn’t cover it. I don’t think even your uncle Harley can fix this buddy.” The all American boy drops a hand to Jugheads shoulder and begins to help him pick up all the pieces, throwing them into the back of his pickup.

“Mind telling me how this happened.” Archie treads carefully.

A low growl escapes Jugheads mouth,
“Jason Blossom and his goonies ran me off the road, probably has something to do with Jason taking over his dads construction company, probably doesn’t like that I’m working for Andrews Construction, or maybe they have something against the Serpents.” Jughead shifts in his jacket, the emblem displayed proudly on the back.

Archie snorts bitterly, a dangerous look flashing in his eyes
“Were 25 now, I figured the days of high school competition were behind us, he’ll never get over the fact that I stole quarterback away from him.”

Jughead shuddered at the mention of high school, that had not been a good time in his life and he very rarely revisits that place in his brain. He’s so much different now, ladies love him, he takes a new girl home every night. Gone is the gangly adolescent boy who hid behind bleachers, replaced by a filled out , muscular bad boy that drives all the girls who ignored him in high school mad. Damnit he could be showing that cheerleader Tiffany… Taylor, shit what was her name? whatever, he could be showing her the time of her life.

“I know a mechanic a town over, works real good with bikes. The shops open, I can take you there now.”

This is why Archie Andrews is his best friend, no matter what, they are always there for each other, it’s the way it’s been since they were four years old. Jugheads pressing some fancy satin scarf against the gash on his forehead as Archie mumbles something about Infection. They pull up to Pops Mechanic Shop and Jughead hops from the truck, he’s a bit woozier than he expected, his knees wobbly. Archie shoots him yet again, another concerned glance.

“I’m good dude, now where’s this mechanic you mentioned, I wanna talk to him about..”

He’s cut off abruptly by a distinctly feminine voice

“Archie Andrews, you better not have blown out your breaks again! I just fixed this truck last week.”

Jughead turns quickly to the voice behind him and nearly passes out. (It’s most definitely because of lack of blood, not the sexy creature before him.)

Standing In front of him is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, long tan legs are wrapped up in short denim overalls, a dirty, red rag is hanging from one of her pockets, her feet are tucked into heavy work boots. Jughead lets his eyes trail over her body all the way up to her toned,bronze arms, she’s covered in motor oil and dirt but it only makes that much sexier. her silky blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun, strands sticking to her sweaty forehead, her eyes are the color of freshly cut grass and her lips are so perfect it should be illegal.

“Nope not me this time Betty, check the back of the truck.”

As soon as she moves to the back her eyes widen

“Woah, holy… poor baby, what happened here?” For the first time since the conversation started Betty’s eyes are on his, ocean blue meeting meadow green, they linger on his before flickering to the steadily bleeding cut on his forehead

“It’s my bike.. well it was my bike. I kind of.. got into an accident.” He answers dumbly, she can obviously see that he was in accident. Dumbass.

“That needs stitches.”

She speaks so suddenly it takes Jughead by surprise

“What?”

“The cut on your head, it needs stitches, you ripped it clean open. I can fix your bike, gonna take a while but I can get her running.”

Jugheads mind races to catch up with her

“You can?”

“Sure, shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out in the office, Arch I made cookies, there might still be some in the garage if the guys haven’t snatched them all up.”
A flash of red races to the garage, leaving Jughead to follow Betty.

The office is run down but usable,

“Do you have insurance?” Betty asks, her head buried in a filing cabinet, Jughead snorts causing her to look up a hesitant smile on her face.

“No.” the raven haired boy clarifies “no insurance.”

Betty nods, eyes understanding as she hands him a clipboard

“My prices are good, I won’t overcharge you, I can promise you I’m the only one who’s gonna be able to work on that bike.”

Jughead signs the paperwork quickly handing it back and sticking his hand out

“I’m Jughead Jones.”

The blonde chews on her lip for a Monet before taking his hand

“I’m Betty Cooper and I know who you are Mr.Jones” she grins wickedly and he smirks

“Oh really?”

He’s moving closer now, breathing in her air as she steps forward, face dangerously close to his own

“Mhmm, and that why I can say..” she trails off suggestively before taking a huge step back and shaking her shoulders

“I’m only interested in doing business with you, nothing more, nothing less. Your reputation precedes you Mr.Jones. I can’t count the amount of Husbands who come in here and try to sell their wives cars after you’ve broken their marriage up.” She giggled uncharacteristically before shoving his papers into the desk drawer

“So thank you but no Thankyou.” Just as she’s about to leave the room Jughead grips her wrist

“You don’t know me.” He speaks desperately, something about this woman makes him want to get on his knees and beg.

With sad eyes Betty looks down at his fingers holding her wrist.

“No.. but I know your kind.”

He wants to protest but Archie enters the room

“All set guys? Hey Betty, Veronica wanted me to tell you we’re coming over tonight, we’ve got a dinner party tomorrow and she has no clue what to wear.”

“I’ll be home.” The female mechanic smiles lazily.

All three of the adults head outside

“Well arch, I’ll see you tonight and Mr.Jones….”

“Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.” His eyes drill into hers and for a moment something flashes that he can’t quite catch but she’s quickly turning her back to both boys and walking back to work

“Whatever you say jones, see ya around.”

Archie looks back and forth between his two friends

“Everything okay? Hey if we speed I’m sure we can make it for your date with Tamara.”

Ahh Tamara, that was her name. Jughead stares out the passenger window and watches as Betty gets underneath a car, a wrench clenched in her fist.

“Nah, forget about Tamara. Hey you mind taking me to the ER, apparently I need stitches.”

Sunday Morning

A Shawn Mendes one shot.

A/N: Umm, so this is really fucking cute? Tooting my own horn here, but I’m a sucker for morning Shawn and family man Shawn and older brother Shawn and domestic Shawn and this has all of the above. Hope you enjoy xoxo

Keep reading

in which y/n is harry’s first love… 

She detached herself from his body, and rolled over to plug her phone into the charger next to their bed. 

“Hey!” Harry protested, making grabby hands toward her waist. “Come back. You’re so far away,” he whined.

“Calm down. I’m just plugging my phone in. Jesus,” she chuckled, setting her phone down and rolling back towards him. He quickly settled back down, tucking himself into her, always the little spoon. “You just want to rest your head on my boobs." 

He snuggled further into her, not denying the accusation, draping his arm around her waist and squeezing tightly, then kissed just above the swell of her breast that peeked out from his t-shirt that she was wearing. "I just really freaking love you." 

She hummed and kissed the top of his head.

"That’s a bit weird, innit?" 

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Is it?”

“Not the fact that I love you. Just the fact that I love another person." 

She mulled it over in her head before nodding in agreement. Loving someone who wasn’t in her family, in the fullest sense of the word, completely honest and open, the way they loved each other was a weird concept, but it was one that she was in love with. "Yeah, it’s a bit weird." 

He sighed out. "I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else." 

A dopey smile graced her face. "Am I your first love, Harry?" 

"I…” He had never thought about it like that. “Yeah. You are.” The truth made him press his body even closer to hers. He valued the physical intimacy just as much as the emotional intimacy. He cleared his throat before he asked the question that floated through his mind when she asked him that question. “Am I yours?" 

She thought about it for a second almost agreeing before she remembered the boy she dated for a bit in high school. Most days, he’s not even a passing thought in her mind, but sometimes he sneaks up on her and she remembers how he made her feel and she gets warm and tingly inside. Before her and Harry were an item, she’d reminisce on their time together and wonder what it might’ve been like had they not split up. "I’m… not sure…" 

He props his head up on her chest to look her directly in the eye. He lets out breath, slightly disgruntled. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, there was this guy back when I was a teenager, and I’m not sure what I felt, but it was something and it was strong." 

Panic began rising within him. "Was it like us?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“It… was… not? I don’t know. It was a long time ago, H. But, I don’t want to talk about this if it’s going to make you upset." 

"I’m not,” he said, his voice raising up an octave. 

She looked down at him. “There are multiple ways to feel your pulse. Yours is way faster than it should be.” He felt her hand resting at the juncture of his neck and jawline. “Besides, it doesn’t matter who your first love is, what matters is your last love." 

He sat up obviously jarred by the thought of his love with another man. He didn’t like the thought at all. She immediately latched onto his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. "Baby… Come on.” She hooked her chin over his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter." 

He eventually relaxed and laid back down tucking into her once again. He doesn’t know why, but for some reason it was like he could feel her slipping away from him, so he held her as close as possible. "What about you, huh? What about your first girlfriend? The one you used to catch the train for every weekend? The one you wrote that poem on Facebook about? What about her?” He could hear the teasing in her voice, but he wasn’t up to par for it. 

“I worshipped the ground she walked on,” he stated plainly. He tried checking for her pulse, laying his head in the middle of her chest, but he couldn’t detect an increase. It was the same as it always had been, steady and, if you had asked him at any time prior to today, only beating for him. She giggled. “Why doesn’t that bother you?" 

"Why should it?” she countered, waiting for him to fire something back at her, but she could tell he wanted an actual answer. She let out a breath. “Because I know you Harry. And, you wouldn’t be with me if you didn’t want to be. There’s obviously a reason you’re not with her, or any other of your exes, anymore, and there’s a reason you are with me. No sense in focusing on the past, when we could focus on our future." 

"You’re right." 

"I know I am. It’s one of my many redeeming qualities." 

He snorted, but there were still questions and doubts niggling him. "But… but why don’t you know if you loved him or not?” He was expecting her to get massively annoyed at him for continuing the discussion after she tried to bring it to an end, but she was surprisingly calm and patient. 

“Because I don’t want to invalidate my feelings. If you had asked me back then, I would’ve sworn up and down that, yes, I was very much in love with him. But, now? Now, I’m not so sure. Now, that I’ve been with you it kind of seems like everything before was child’s play. That doesn’t mean that what I was feeling back then doesn’t count, though." 

He nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from. 

She continued speaking. "What I do know, however, is that I cared about him a lot. I’m sure of that. I still care about him, to an extent, if we’re being honest. Don’t you care about your exes?" 

He nodded. 

"I think I’ll always care about him. But, I don’t think he ever made me feel the way you do. I don’t ever recall feeling so special and important and full of love.” She untangled herself from him, slid down so that they were face to face, and grappled the back of his neck, pushing their foreheads together to look him directly in the eyes. “Only you have made me feel this way. You’re the first. And, I certainly hope you’ll be the last." 

He basked in the warmth of her words with a dimpled grin upon his lips, pink tinged across his cheeks, and a swelling feeling in his heart. He was so in love with her. He pressed a hard kiss to her lips before sprinkling butterfly kisses across her cheeks and making a mental note to always remember this moment. Because wherever life took them, whether it was together or apart, he always wanted a reminder of how he felt in this moment. It was the happiest he’d ever been.