i think new jersey

anonymous asked:

Good day, Shukamod! I just saw your post and YOU HAVE THE YOU JERSEY OMG. Anyways, I just wanted to ask about your thoughts about it (like the material, or quality and such), and where you got it? I was planning to buy a Chika one but I'm not sure if it's worth the 4000+PHP that would have to fly just to get it T.T Thanks in advance!

Hello~ o7

I got pretty lucky — the Aqours jerseys were being sold at the Bushiroad booth at Anime Boston for USD$75. I haven’t personally worn mine yet because I’m trying not to get it dirty before tomorrow (it was raining/snowing today (꒪⌓꒪)), but the quality looks solid and the colors look nice! Much brighter than they looked in some of the seiyuu photos from earlier this year.

I took some more pictures so you can see the texture of the jersey:

[Higher resolution here]

In my opinion it’s still quite pricey for a jacket (especially if you have to pay extra for shipping!), so it really depends on how badly you want it and whether you can see yourself wearing it often enough. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with the quality, though (:D)| ̄|_

A,B,C or all of Above

Helpless Part Five (Philip Hamilton x Reader)

Masterlist (the first four parts are linked here) 

Request Queue 

Warnings- intense angst but you probably knew that

A/N- (So this is a thing, I wrote it very fast I hope like and I’m sorry but I also hope it breaks you because that means I did my job right oops. Props to @gwash4prez for proofreading this for me since I am a Tired Gay™ )

Song-  Mental Illness – Goodnight Neverland (Through the darkest storm, I will hold your hand. Love will carry on…I can feel your heart. Close your eyes to see. You used to shine so brilliantly.)


You were mad. You stayed mad for a long time. And it felt so dumb that when you should be spending the most time with him, when you should be enjoying what could potentially be your last moments with him, you couldn’t, because you were mad.

There had to be another way. This was just ridiculous! Your own father was the goddamn Vice President. If he said that George Eacker wasn’t the father of your still unborn child, then they’d have to believe him. The problem was, you didn’t know who ‘they’ was. Who had George Eacker persuaded onto his side. How many officials had gotten involved. No matter what, a secret relationship didn’t look good, and in this newborn country, reputation was everything.

You wished more than anything you could take it all back. Go back to the start. You wished you could go back and be smarter. If you had just told your father from the start, yes he would have been livid, but you wouldn’t be facing the death of your fiancee. Or maybe if you’d just stayed hating Philip forever, constantly rejecting his advances like you always did…

No. You couldn’t imagine a life without him, without his child growing inside of you. And that was the thought that woke you up. If Philip could die, something you still refused to accept as possibility, but if he could, you were going to make damn sure everyone knew that you were his.

You hugged him tightly the moment he stepped into your room. All the tension of the past few weeks started to melt, the awkward, tight conversation, the distance between you as you both laid in bed, all of it, gone.

“Y/N?” His voice was a question, but the way he held you proved that he didn’t care what had caused it, he just wanted you back.

“I want to get married.” you mumbled into his chest.

“Of course, I want to get married too, that’s why I asked.”

“No.” You pulled away from Philip. “I want to get married tomorrow. Tonight even. I want to get married as soon as possible.”

Philip furrowed his brow. “It won’t change anything. Eacker will still come after us, after our girl.”

“This isn’t about George. This is about being by your side in the strongest way possible, just…just in case.” You bit your lip and tried not to let tears fall. Philip already knew how upset you were, and you didn’t want to guilt trip him.

“Okay…” he whispered. He pressed his lips gently to you head and placed his hand on your grown stomach. “We’ll get married as soon as possible. I promise.”

You smiled and pressed your lips to his like you had so many times before. “It’s still not a girl.” you whispered.

It was a short wedding. Philip’s father officiated and his mother cried the whole time. The only others in attendance were a few friends of you and Philip, Philip’s siblings, and your father. It was private and secret, just like the relationship had always been. You held it at your father’s estate. It was the biggest and also something Thomas had dreamt of since you were born apparently.

After some celebration, you walked with your husband to the house he’d recently purchased for the three of you. It was small and nothing like the near mansions both of you had grown up in, but it was yours, and it was home.

You laid in bed, facing Philip, words caught in your throat. “How long?” you asked on your wedding night.

“Three weeks.” he whispered.

You wanted to say that the time went by to fast. That you wished you had more moments with Philip, but truthfully, it was killing you. All the waiting, the pacing, the lack of sleep, the what ifs. It was too much. Every moment with him was clouded by the thought of him lying in field bleeding out. It was like there was a timer ticking in your brain, constantly reminding you that you could lose him. You just wanted everything to end.

The night before, you were practically inconsolable. You wanted to spend the night talking with Philip, holding him, but you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. You knew there was no other way. You and Philip had thought through every other scenario, but it always came back to this. You tried to remind yourself that he could win the duel, or maybe neither would shoot. There were so many instances in which Philip could make it out of this alive, but there were also many where he couldn’t, and those were the ones that haunted you this last night.

“Philip, I’m just scared.” your shaky voice whispered into the dark after he’d calmed your sobbing for the eighth time. There was a long pause as your words died in the air.

“I’m scared too.” Philip’s voice cracked.

You wanted to ask why. If he was scared and you were scared then why? But you’d already asked that a million times. You knew why. You knew what had to happen.

So you held him. You cried, and you held him. He cried, and he held you. The night was filled with salty kisses mixed with tears and less than effective words of comfort from both of you. Then you did something you never thought you would on this night. You fell asleep.

And when you woke up, he was gone.

You sprang out of bed. As fast as an eight-month pregnant woman can. The sun had just begun to rise, and there was a note on your vanity.


I had to leave. It had to be early. I didn’t want you to see. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I didn’t want you there. I’m so sorry I had to leave.

Y/N, I love you more than anything. I love our baby, and whether I’m there to see it or not, you are going to be a great mom.

You ran your hand over the ink and it smudged. It was fresh. You weren’t too late.

You couldn’t keep reading. You had to leave. Maybe you weren’t too late. You didn’t know what you would do when you got to Weehawken, you just knew that you had to get there. You were halfway out the door when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach.

Philip’s chest was tight. He watched his friend, his best man, his second, approach the middle of the field. Eacker sneered at him from across the browning grass. The sky was gray, and a strong wind lifting off the nearby lake and carrying through Philip’s hair. Everything felt like it was a sign of inevitable doom.

So many times he has wanted to turn around. So many times he wanted to run away, but he couldn’t that. This was for his wife. This was for his family.

And so Philip stood there. Firm. Unwavering. He looked George Eacker in the eye. He readied his pistol. He took one deep breath. Another. Another. He listened to the countdown. Philip lifted his arm. Philip raised his pistol towards the sky.


You cried out in pain and clutched your stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong. Your vision was going white from the searing pain. It was like an animal had clawed through your body. Unable to move, you screamed at the top of your lungs. You cried for help. It wasn’t long until one your neighbors came rushing over. He kneeled in front of your crumbled figure and asked what you needed, who you knew. You told him that you were Thomas Jefferson’s daughter and that you needed to get to New Jersey.

“New Jersey? Miss Jefferson, I think-”

“Mrs. Hamilton.” you seethed, glaring at him from your spot on the floor.

“Regardless. You don’t need to go to New Jersey, you need a doctor.”

You wanted to protest, but another wave of pain wracked through you and you couldn’t do anything but groan. “E-Eliza.” you whispered, desperate for a mother, and you knew you couldn’t have your own.  

“Eliza?” Realization dawned on him. “Hamilton. You’re a Hamilton.” He turned to what you assumed was his son. “Run to the Jefferson estate. And then the Hamilton’s. Tell them I’m bringing their pregnant daughter to Doctor Hosack’s house.

“He’s not there.” you wanted to say, but the pain was too great and your neighbor was already lifting you off the ground. The doctor was in New Jersey, where you should be.

You didn’t know how long the travel time was. You were too distracted with thoughts of Philip. You even mumbled his name a few times. Next thing you knew your back was hitting the inviting cushion of a mattress and your father was at your side.

“Dad. Dad I need to find him. I need to find Phil–ah!” You back arched upward with the pain. Thomas gripped your hand tightly.

“It’s okay. Y/N there’s nothing you can do about that now, just focus on giving birth to your baby.”

Your squinted eyes shot open. “Birth?! No…no no, that’s not for another month. I can’t give birth without Philip.” you rambled. “I need Philip! I need him!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” Eliza stood on the other side of the bed. Her eyes were red and swollen. You furrowed your brow and looked at your father, then at the foot of the bed where you saw Alexander and Doctor Hosack standing at a distance. They were conversing with grave expressions. Your eyes met Eliza’s tear-filled ones.

“No…” you whispered. She cupped a hand over her mouth as a sob slipped out. “No!” The scream ripped through your throat.

“He’s not dead. He’s not dead, Y/N. He’s still alive.” Your father ran a hand over your sweaty face reassuringly.

“What happened.” It wasn’t a question it was a demand. Thomas and Alexander shared a hesitant glance. “Someone tell me what happened to my husband!”

Alex stepped forward quickly. “The bullet struck his hip and lodged in his arm. He’s in the other room.”

“Bring me to him.” you said quickly. You squeezed Eliza’s hand when I another contraction hit you, but you didn’t cry out this time.

“Y/N, he didn’t want you to see him-”

“I don’t care what he wants! My husband was struck by a bullet, and I will personally make sure you all burn in hell if you don’t let me see him.”

Eliza looked at the doctor. “Let her see my son.” she said firmly without letting go of your hand.

Doctor Hosack nodded and lifted you onto a stretcher with the help of your father. The carried you through a short hallway into another room of the house. The dark maroon of the wallpaper was like dried blood, and you suddenly felt very sick.

Philip was quite a sight when you were brought into a room. He was lying on a table, on top of a stretcher similar to yours, though his was soaked with blood. The metallic scent was practically palpable.

He didn’t see you at first. His eyes were shut tight and his chest rose and feel jaggedly as his mouth hung desperately open. Your father and the doctor laid you down on the small bed in that room and pulled the stretcher out from underneath you.

Philip only opened his eyes when he heard you sob. He looked over to you so quickly that he winced.

“No. What is she doing here?” His voice was raspy.

“Philip.” his father warned. “She’s in labor.” You didn’t want those words to be true, and you saw that mirrored in Philip’s expression.

“It’s too early…” he whispered. His eyes didn’t look away from yours. “Bring me closer to her. Please.” His voice was breaking.

Thomas and Alexander picked up the table he was sprawled on and brought it so it was parallel to your bed.

“Why is he on the table? Why isn’t he on this bed?” you asked the doctor. You felt Philip’s hand in your and looked offer at him. He smiled. His face was slick with sweat.

“We need the table for…surgery.” Doctor Hosack explained.

“Surgery?!” You switched your attention from Philip to the doctor and back to Philip.

“They’re gonna take my arm, darling.” he said like it was a joke. This felt like a joke. Like some sick cruel twisted joke the universe was playing on you.

“It’s his best chance at..at survival, dear.” Eliza stumbled over the words. You looked painfully at your husband. Your chest hurt more than your abdomen now. You felt broken. You felt utterly helpless.

“Y/N, we need to check how dilated you are.” One of the nurses said calmly.

“No, I’m only worried about Philip.”

“What a coincidence, I’m only worried about you.” he said dryly.

“And it’s my job to worry about this baby.” the nurse stated as she started to roll your stockings down.

Eliza had you sit up so she could loosen your corset, and Doctor Hosack tightened a tourniquet around Philip’s arm. You held each other’s hands the whole time.

“We’re gonna need all hands on deck. I want to get this surgery started soon, but this baby looks ready to come any minute.”

The nurse nodded and left. When she returned she carried a small tray with a million different pieces of equipment on it. Three other nurses followed behind her. The first nurse brought the tray over to the doctor.

“You’re going to want this.” He took a bottle of amber liquid off the tray and handed it to Philip. You looked at him nervously, but he smiled and held the rim to his blue lips.

“This I can do.” he stated before taking a large swig from the bottle. You looked to Thomas. He looked older somehow. There was no masking the worry on his face, and every time you winced or made a noise of pain, it was like it hurt him too.

You heard Philip coughing and quickly looked back at him.

“We need to do this now.” Doctor Hosack said. Your bottom lip started to tremble. You couldn’t help it.

“Hey.” Philip turned to you. He looked so weak and pale. His eyes were lidded. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.”

“Philip, I can’t lose you. I can’t- goddamnit!” you lurched forward. A white hot pain ran through you.

“We have to do this now!” The doctor warned again. You were breathing heavily. He started putting gloves on. A nurse rolled up a towel and gave it to Philip to put in his mouth.

“Wait!” he said, unable to push her away without letting go of your hand. His eyes met yours. Both of you were sweating and panting from pain.

“Don’t you dare tell them to take me out of here for this, Philip. I swear to God.”

He laughed, but it only turned into another coughing fit. “That’s not what I was going to say.” Tears streamed down your face. “I love you, Y/N. No matter how many times I say it, it never feels like enough. I love our daughter, and I love you.”  Philip let go of your hand and grabbed the towel from the nurse, biting down on it. He nodded to the doctor and grabbed your hand with his uninjured arm again.

Doctor Hosack looked at you, then back at the wound and sighed. “Y/N. Look away.” he said. You agreed, staring into Philip’s eyes and not at his arm. You didn’t know, didn’t want to know, what was happening when Philip’s face contorted and a muffled scream escaped his throat. You cried out, but it wasn’t from seeing him in pain. That hurt more than you could ever explain, but something was happening to your body that you couldn’t stop.

“This is impossible.” one of the nurses said. “She can’t be having her baby now like this.” Your eyes squeezed shut. You wanted to keep them open so you could see Philip, but the pain was too great.

“You’ll have to do this delivery on your own.” you heard Doctor Hosack say. You heard someone telling yours and Philip’s parents to wait in the corner of the room. You heard Eliza crying. You heard Philip screaming, at least you knew he was still alive.

Cool hands rubbed against your thighs and you opened your eyes. The nurse from earlier was pushing your legs apart. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation,” You could tell she was trying not to look at Philip. You still felt his hand in yours. “But I need you to push, Y/N.”

“I can’t…Philip…I have too…” You looked over at him, but the nurse called your attention back to her.

“I know, but if you don’t deliver soon, it puts the baby’s life at risk, so on three I want you to push, okay?”

You looked at Philip and despite the pain he must have been feeling, he nodded at you. You took a deep breath and looked at the nurse.


You clenched the muscles in your stomach and screamed. Unlike Philip’s, these were unsuppressed.

“Okay, okay, that was good, but I’m gonna need a little more Y/N.” the nurse.

“I can’t!” you cried. “My husband is losing his arm!”

“And you’re losing this baby!” the nurse shouted. You were stunned into silence. Eliza, though, crying came rushing to your side.  

“You can…do this.” she said. You took her hand and looked at her son. He was staring at the ceiling with a glazed expression, moaning. The doctor had stopped working but was turning around doing something on the tray. You didn’t dare look at his arm.

“Are you ready?” the nurse asked. You nodded. “1…2…3!” You pushed again. “Keep going! Almost there!” she shouted. You pushed and you pushed and you cried.

“I can’t do it. I can’t I-”

“Yes you can, Y/N.” Eliza said sternly. “Now push.”

You pushed and a cry filled the air. It wasn’t yours. “It’s a girl!” the nurse practically sighed in relief. A weight lifted off your chest.

“Philip! Philip it’s a-Philip?” His eyes were closed. His hand was limp in yours. How had you not noticed that he had gotten so cold. “No!” You cried. Sobs and screams climbed up your body and fell out of your mouth. “He’s dead! He died! How could let him die!” you shouted.

“Y/N, calm down you’re-” the nurse stopped. “Doctor!” she cried. “Doctor, she’s bleeding!”

You never knew it was possible to be in so much pain and feel so numb. “Philip, please wake up. Please. I need you.” You felt too weak to scream, though it was all you wanted to do. He was gone. Everything was meaningless. You only had your baby, and how could you raise her without Philip? What were you without him? There was nothing worth fighting for anymore.

“Y/N, please hold on!” Eliza sobbed.

“Doctor what’s happening!” you heard your father voice. It took every bit of strength for you to lift your hand to Philip’s face. Your fingertips grazed his lips. He was so cold. You needed him.

You could have sworn you heard your mother’s voice. Your vision was fuzzy. You just wanted to sleep. You felt your body start to relax. A soothing cool washed over you. You felt a sense of peace and tranquility that you hadn’t for the longest time. Your mother was singing to you. Your husband was next to you.

“At least, I’ll be with Philip…”

You heard a voice calling out to you, calling your name. Your eyes opened slowly. You felt an emptiness in your gut, like something was missing there.

“Mom?” you asked, looking up. She stood there smiling, her hair shone in the sun. You stood quickly and wrapped your arms around her waist. She laughed and hugged you back. She smelled sweet, just like you remembered. “But wait-” You pulled away and looked around.

“Mom? Mom, where’s Philip?” Her eyes started to shine. “Mom where is he?”

Philip’s eyes opened slowly. There was a searing pain in his head and in his arm. He groaned loudly.

“He’s awake!”

“Oh God he’s awake.”

His parent’s faces appeared above him. The were splotchy and red and shiny with tears. Memories started to flood back to him. The duel, the bullet, the baby, you.

“Philp…you’re…you’re a father.” Alexander said carefully.

“It’s a baby girl.” Eliza added. Philip winced and moaned at the pain, but there was only one thing on his mind.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“The nurses cleaned her up. They’re watching her since she was born so early and-”

“No.” Philip said quickly. “No where’s Y/N? Is she okay?”

Eliza’s eyebrows knit together and tears started to fall down her face. “Philip she…” Eliza turned away and started to cry. Alexander placed his hand on her shoulder.

“She couldn’t take it. She…passed.”

Philip broke. Every piece of him shattered, but he still couldn’t feel a thing. “What…how…what did she say?”


“What were her last words?” Philip felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that he wasn’t awake to hear them.

Eliza gave Alexander a serious look. “You need to rest, now isn’t the-”

“What were here last words!?” Philip shouted, stunning both his parents. “Please…” he whispered. His voice cracked. “Please, I need to know.”

“She said…she said that at least…’At least I’ll be with Philip.’”

And if Philip thought he felt pain losing his arm, he’d never experienced something like this

Thomas’ head was between his legs. He’d was past crying, for now. There were no more tears to shed. A door creaked as the Hamilton’s walked out of the room their son was in. He could barely stand to look at them.

“How…how is he?”

“Alive, but about as stable and you can imagine. He’s with the baby now. I think that’s helping.” Alexander explained.

“Thomas…” Eliza started.

“Please don’t.”  Thomas looked down again. “I have nothing left to live for.”

“That’s not true.” Eliza was quick to say, shocking even her husband. “You have us to support you. You have a son-in-law. You have a granddaughter. Do you know what Philip decided to name her?”  

Thomas shook his head.

“Martha.” Alexander said. Thomas’s chest swelled. An impossible mixture of heartbreak and hope.

“Martha…” he repeated. Images of his lost love floated through his mind. He looked up to the sky, picturing with his arms around his daughter. Smiling. Happy.

“You’re not alone, Thomas.” Alexander sat next to the man he wants despised. “You have all of us, and we’re all going to raise this baby together. For her. For Martha. For Y/N.”

Thomas nodded and embraced Alexander, something he never thought he’d do, but now needed more than ever.

*Five years later*

“Martha! What are you doing?” Thomas chided.

“I’m wearin’ Dad’s shirt!” she said proudly, flashing a grin that was missing a few teeth.

“I think you look fabulous, sweetheart.” Philip added from his spot across the room.

“See Grandpa?” Martha looked smugly up at Thomas. “Dad thinks I look faboolets.”

Thomas laughed and picked her up, sitting down across from Philip and letting her run to her father. The young girl climbed into Philip’s lap, and he wrapped his one arm around her.

“Dad? Tell me about mommy again…” Martha’s eyes pleaded with Philip. He looked up at his father in law, who smiled softly.

“Well Martha, your mom was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen, but don’t let the fool you, she was smart too…”

You smiled as you looked down on your family. No more fighting, no more wars. Finally, at peace.  

anonymous asked:

Poptarts, wawa, build a bear

u get so many bonus points for including wawa
i was just thinking the other day that my loyalty to new jersey is like….a -12 but my loyalty to wawa is unrivaled …which makes for a very conflicting situation

honestly if anyone ever comes to visit me (which is an open invitation btw) (like….if it’s planned) (also this is really one of those things where i say it and then it doesn’t happen bc i don’t even see the friends that live in my town, but in an ideal world!!) 

anyway!…if anyone comes to visit me…i would have no agenda except a wawa trip (which would include a 20 oz coffee, a soft pretzel, and a wawa hoagie, non negotiable) 


Jax Request,

Can you do a request where you are opies cousin. You move back to charming after many years. You end up working in the office of TM & you & jax end up messing around. ? Ty

Little Winston

I grew up surrounded by motorcycles, my father was a rider back in the day but had an accident that made it impossible for him to keep riding and destroyed his dream of becoming a Sons Of Anarchy member just like his brother Piney did but that didn’t kept me apart from being surrounded by the motorcycles/outlaw scene.

I was always chasing Opie and Jax around, them being five years older than me did not fancy the idea at first. At the end of the day what 10 years old want to be dragging his little cousin on the back of his bike? Taking care of scratches and the crying mess kids are but I refrained myself from crying when the three of us fell over the hard California grown or when Opie threw me down a hill to try and make me stop hanging around and I gained their respect, I wasn’t a hassle anymore but part of the group. Always the three of us, together.

Jax and I were pretty close, it was his dad the one that gave me my first bike on my 7th birthday and I was officially another little rider. We had so much fun riding around town, pretending to be like the older ones, Jax wanted to be like his dad and so did Opie with my uncle but I couldn’t be like them, I was a girl and the group did not accept girls so I refrained myself of dreaming big about it. Maybe someday I’d have my own motorcycle, I wouldn’t be part of the club but I could go on rides with them and we’d be friends forever or so I thought.

I was 17 when my mom thought Charming wasn’t enough for the plans she had for me, “I don’t want you to end up like your father” she said and I felt angry, so angry but there was nothing I could do so I kept quiet the same way I did after I started developing feelings for the young Teller and it was a good choice because this way I could forget about him easier, but he didn’t make it that way. The day he got the news while the three of us where seating watching a film he stormed off Ope’s house, I found him throwing rocks on the front.

“Jax” I whispered and he looked at me, hurt in his eyes but masked with anger “It’s not like it’s my decision to make” I said and he just gave me his back “My mom wants me to get into a good college”

“And what about us? Our plans?” he said and I just looked at him “You want to join the club, I told you when I become President I’ll let you join” and I just laughed sadly.

“Jax, Clay is there for the long run. There’s still a lot of time until that happens, plus I think it’s a good idea that I get an education, a career” I said.

“You hated her for what she did to me, and you’re doing the exact same thing.”

“That’s not true, Jackson!” I screamed approaching him, he took a step forward as well his nostrils flaring while he looked at me “Tara fucking used you, I never did that”

“Keep telling yourself that, darlin’, asking someone to take your v card and then leaving is not exactly lady like” he said before storming off and riding away. Opie stood by the door after hearing the whole conversation and gave me a sympathetic smile, two seconds after that I was crying in his arms. First time I ever let him see me cry since I was five.

It’s been 8 years since the last time I was in Charming, I kept in touch with Opie and my uncle Piney all this time, they even visited me once in New Jersey with Donna and the kids, so I decided to give them a little surprise by going to the TM, I knew Jackson was going to be there but I wasn’t a stupid little girl anymore and I wanted to celebrate with the people I love that I finally got my Communications diploma and I was finally free from my mother’s inquisitor looks. I arrived at the TM and parked right inside, four Harleys were parked at the front and I approached the office looking for Aunt Gemma but she was nowhere to be seen, a man with a serious look in his face approached me.

“Hey” I said looking at him “I’m looking for Opie and Piney” I got no answer but another angry glare. “I’m YN Winston” I said and he just nodded before going back inside, I followed him keeping my distance and almost got hit by the tower my cousin was. “OPE!” I screamed and he hold me tight to his chest.

“YN, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he said and I just shrugged my shoulders.

“I wanted it to be a surprise” I said with a smile and he nodded at me with a huge smile “Where’s uncle Piney?” I said looking inside.

“He’s really sick YN” he said and I looked at him with sad eyes “He’s staying at the cabin at the moment, we can pass by if you wanna later” I nodded feeling a knot in my stomach. “Are you staying with us?”

“Oh no, I don’t wanna be a burden for you and your family. I’ll stay at a motel”

“Non sense” he said “You are staying with us…did you visit your mom already?”

“I gave her my diploma back in New Jersey. I think he got the message back then, she didn’t tell me when papa died, Opie. I can’t forgive her for that” I said slowly and he put his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I was in a run and I thought you knew” he said and I just looked somewhere else while hugging myself, I heard the sound of other motorcycles arriving and I felt the knot come back to my throat “He missed you, he asked me about you every once in a while” he said and I just nodded feeling the people approaching behind me.

“Opie, who’s?” he said and I turned around to see him, those blue eyes I loved so much where staring right at me. “YN” he said and I felt the air leave my lungs. Oh I was in for a long run.

Hello! I got carried away with this request and well it’s going to have two parts, I hope you enjoy this first part. The second part and Happy’s request will be up tomorrow.

Personally I still think New Jersey is better than Georgia, but I like the people here more. So if we could switch the people in Georgia with the people in New Jersey that would be great

mariahcareysmeltdown  asked:

I feel like DEH takes place in New Jersey. Think of For Forever and think of the scenery Evan describes. You'd have to go really upstate to find something like that in New York. You'd have to go to like Rochester or Long Island and, tbh, I don't get a NY vibe at all. More of a cozy, suburban vibe and that's more likely to happen in Jersey imo

Okay so I’ve gotten a bunch of asks/responses saying they think DEH takes place in NY or NJ, and after reading the reasons why, it definitely seems likely!

anonymous asked:

I've always maintained that Jason has an inner city gothamite accent of some sort, so i'm asking all of my favorite jason stans if you think he's got one too and if so what do you think it sounds like--is it new jersian? Baltimore native-ish? what do u think?

i really have no idea how american accents sound like, so i wouldnt know rip. but considering gotham would be like.. in new jersey.. i think he would have a new jersianish (?) accent imo… whatever that sounds like

anonymous asked:

it's 11:52 in new jersey and i'm thinking that one day, if someone reads my dirty mind, what would they say

honestly i think if someone ever was able to read my mind theyd call the police

theyd be like yes hi id like to report a potential threat i think this girl is planning on kidnapping or doing unspeakable things to some man named Wonho i just wanted to call because i am concerned for his safety

or they would just hear a endless loop of me saying things about dick or see wonhos ass in my head it would be terrible tbh i am the biggest hoe but not irl i would shoot my ass to a different dimension if anyone every discovered this part of me

Anonymously tell me where you are, what time it is there and what you’re thinking about

anonymous asked:

4 &5 Peter please

4. I can’t see anything
5. I heard a noise

(Peter POV)

The sound of his phone ringing cuts off the Alt-J track playing from Peter’s makeshift speaker, which consists of his phone in a red solo cup. The young man himself sits hunched over in his desk chair, fiddling with the new web-shooters Mr. Stark developed for him. There had to be a way to make them less itchy.

Surrendering for a moment, he rolls his chair away from the desk and to his bedside table, where he plucks his phone out of the cup. Your contact photo flashes across the screen, and he can’t help but smile. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he answers the call and puts the phone to his ear. “(y/n), you just ruined my jam–”

“Peter, I think I’m being followed.”

He freezes in the middle of spinning his chair in a lazy circle. “You what?”

“Anton closed the café late, and mom can’t come pick me up ‘cause she’s in New Jersey on business. I think someone’s following me, Pete, and I’m really scared.”

He glances down at his watch, which reads 10:30. Cursing under his breath, he puts you on speaker and throws his phone on his bed. He retrieves his suit from the attic and begins to tug it on. “Just stay calm, (y/n). Don’t freak out. Where are you at?”

“I just got out of the park, almost to third avenue.” You pause for a second. “I’m taking the alley. Maybe it’ll confuse them.”

“I’m coming for you, (y/n), just stay on the phone. Don’t hang up.” He zips up the last of his suit, and runs over to his desk drawer, pulling out his mask from underneath the miscellaneous computer parts.

He pushes up his window just in time to hear you gasp. “The street light just went out.” Then, more panicked: “I can’t see anything.”

Running out of patience, Peter fires a web at his phone, catching it in his right hand as he jumps out of his window. He swings in a half circle around his building with his left hand, and begins to head as quickly as he can towards Manhattan. “I’m almost there, (y/n). Don’t freak.”

(Your POV)

You were most definitely freaking, but doing your best not to show it. When the alley’s lone streetlight flickered out, the last of your courage deflated. Your walking involuntarily speeds up as you make for the alley exit, doing your best to keep from shaking. Why did you decide to take the alley? Haven’t you seen a horror movie?

A funny whooshing sound is coming from Peter’s end of the line, but you’re too wired to notice. You’re about halfway down the alley when you hear what sounded like metal hitting the ground from somewhere behind you. Whirling around, you hug yourself with one arm and clutch your phone to your ear with the other. “I heard a noise,” you whisper, sounding almost shocked.

“Don’t worry, it was just me.”

You scream and whirl around, dropping your phone as you try to scramble away from the huge figure blocking your way out of the alley. Peter’s frantic voice shouts at you from your fallen phone, asking what’s wrong, but a second man picks it up and ends the call. At some point, you had ended up on the ground, clutching your purse in front of you as if it could protect you.

The first man–a huge blonde with a beer belly hanging over his thick belt and no chin whatsoever–grins at you menacingly, dark beady eyes looking down on you. You instinctively crawl away from him and back into the alley wall. The second man, a dark-haired lanky thing, steps closer and crouches down next to you. The distinct smell of beer washes over you, making you dizzy.

He strokes your cheek, and you flinch away, now shaking more violently with fear, and a little bit of anger. “Pretty thing, ain’t she, Don?”

“Sure is,” Don replies, also stepping closer to you now, but not crouching. “What a find.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Lanky asks.

Summoning the last of your courage, you look him dead in the eye and say, without one shake in your voice: “Go to hell.”

Don smiles. “Ah, but if I go,” he pulls out a rather large pocket knife, and your eyes widen, “You’re coming with me. Now what do you say you do whatever we tell you?”

He takes one step closer to you and you scream, hoping someone will hear you. Hopefully Peter. Lanky, still crouched next to you, claps a firm hand over your mouth, muffling your screams. A lone tear escapes your eye.

But then his hand is off of your mouth, and he’s hanging upside down by a web attached to one of his legs. His other leg dangles hopelessly, and you see an agile shadow disappear onto a fire escape behind him. Don barely has time to mumble, “What the hell?” before his knife is on the ground, and both his arms and legs are bound together.

The shadow from before lands in front of you. “Alright, fellas, for your sake I hope the police find you soon!” He turns to face you, and looks back over his shoulder. “Actually, I don’t.”

The figure you now recognize as Spiderman crouches down next to you–you’re still huddled up against the alley wall shaking, purse clutched in front of you–and does something you’d never expect: Pulls you into a hug. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know that voice. “Peter?” you whisper.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”