i thought i would bring this back

Violence, Abusers, and Protest

My grandfather was a generally peaceful man. He was a gardener, an EMT, a town selectman, and an all around fantastic person. He would give a friend - or a stranger - the shirt off his back if someone needed it. He also taught me some of the most important lessons I ever learned about violence, and why it needs to exist.


When I was five, my grandfather and grandmother discovered that my rear end and lower back were covered in purple striped bruises and wheals. They asked me why, and I told them that Tom, who was at that time my stepfather, had punished me. I don’t remember what he was punishing me for, but I remember the looks on their faces. 

When my mother and stepfather arrived, my grandmother took my mother into the other room. Then my grandfather took my stepfather into the hallway. He was out of my eye line, but I saw through the crack in the door on the hinge side. He slammed my stepfather against the wall so hard that the sheet rock buckled, and told him in low terms that if he ever touched me again they would never find his body. 

I absolutely believed that he would kill my stepfather, and I also believed that someone in the world thought my safety was worth killing for. 

In the next few years, he gave me a few important tips and pointers for dealing with abusers and bullies. He taught me that if someone is bringing violence to you, give it back to them as harshly as you can so they know that the only response they get is pain. He taught me that guns are used as scare tactics, and if you aren’t willing to accept responsibility for mortally wounding someone, you should never own one. He told me that if I ever had a gun aimed at me, I should accept the possibility of being shot and rush the person, or run away in a zig-zag so they couldn’t pick me off. He taught me how to break someone’s knee, how to hold a knife, and how to tell if someone is holding a gun with intent to kill. He was absolutely right, and he was one of the most peaceful people I’ve ever met. He was never, to my knowledge, violent with anyone who didn’t threaten him or his family. Even those who had, he gave chances to, like my first stepfather. 

When I was fourteen, a friend of mine was stalked by a mutual acquaintance. I was by far younger than anyone else in the social crowd; he was in his mid twenties, and the object of his “affection” was as well. Years before we had a term for “Nice Guy” bullshit, he did it all. He showed up at her house, he noted her comings and goings, he observed who she spent time with, and claimed that her niceness toward him was a sign that they were actually in a relationship.

This came to a head at a LARP event at the old NERO Ware site. He had been following her around, and felt that I was responsible for increased pressure from our mutual friends to leave her alone. He confronted me, her, and a handful of other friends in a private room and demanded that we stop saying nasty things about him. Two of our mutual friends countered and demanded that he leave the woman he was stalking alone. 

Stalker-man threw a punch. Now, he said in the aftermath that he was aiming for the man who had confronted him, but he was looking at me when he did it. He had identified me as the agent of his problems and the person who had “turned everyone against him.” His eyes were on mine when the punch landed. He hit me hard enough to knock me clean off my feet and I slammed my head into a steel bedpost on the way down.

When I shook off the stunned confusion, I saw that two of our friends had tackled him. I learned that one had immediately grabbed him, and the other had rabbit-punched him in the face. I had a black eye around one eyebrow and inner socket, and he was bleeding from his lip. 

At that time in my life, unbeknownst to anyone in the room, I was struggling with the fact that I had been molested repeatedly by someone who my mother had recently broken up with. He was gone, but I felt conflicted and worthless and in pain. I was still struggling, but I knew in that moment that I had a friend in the world who rabbit-punched a man for hitting me, and I felt a little more whole.

Later that year, I was bullied by a girl in my school. She took special joy in tormenting me during class, in attacking me in the hallways, in spreading lies and asserting things about me that were made up. She began following me to my locker, and while I watched the clock tick down, she would wait for me to open it and try to slam my hand in it. She succeeded a few times. I attempted to talk to counselors and teachers. No one did anything. Talking to them made it worse, since they turned and talked to her and she called me a “tattle” for doing it. I followed the system, and it didn’t work. 

I remembered my friend socking someone in the face when he hit me. I recalled what my grandfather had taught me, and decided that the next time she tried, I would make sure it was the last. I slammed the door into her face, then shut her head in the base of my locker, warping the aluminum so badly that my locker no longer worked. She never bothered me again. 

Violence is always a potential answer to a problem. I believe it should be a last answer - everything my grandfather taught me before his death last year had focused on that. He hadn’t built a bully or taught me to seek out violence; he taught me how to respond to it.

I’ve heard a lot of people talk recently about how, after the recent Nazi-punching incident, we are in more danger because they will escalate. That we will now see more violence and be under more threat because of it. I reject that. We are already under threat. We are already being attacked. We are being stripped of our rights, we are seeing our loved ones and our family reduced to “barely human” or equated with monsters because they are different. 

To say that we are at more risk now than we were before a Nazi got punched in the face is to claim that abusers only hurt you if you fight back. Nazis didn’t need a reason to want to hurt people whom they have already called inhuman, base, monsters, thugs, retards, worthless, damaging to the gene pool, and worthy only of being removed from the world. They were already on board. The only difference that comes from fighting back is the intimate knowledge that we will not put up with their shit.

And I’m just fine with that.

9

Was playing around with a few more ideas, so that means it’s time for more Bendy doodles!

First two (with the first panel referencing Kiki’s Delivery Service a little) are based on a conversation me and one of my friends had about the Bendy plushies in the game. I might come back to this, but we both found some amusement in the idea of Bendy growing really attached to the plushies, and probably would’ve been more than happy to accept a plushie as an offering on one of the pedistals.

3rd picture was based off of a chat that was going on during SquigglyDigglyDoo’s stream. I don’t remember exactly how it went, but I think I asked if she ever drew Bendy in one of Mickey’s costumes before. So that got me to thinking about which costume I would’ve put Bendy in.

The last few doodles are sort of inspired by @doodledrawsthings. They did a few images of a hypothetical redesign for Bendy, and so I thought it would be fun to play around with this idea, too. I kinda like how it turned out, though I’m still debating if I want to keep playing around with this idea more.

A Killer’s Past & his PTSD

Back again with another analysis; and boy oh boy did this chapter meet and go beyond my expectations. First, let me start off by saying finally. The elusive and highly coveted second floor was finally shown to us viewers - and it was surprisingly mundane (when you compare it to the countless theories we had of bodies being all over the place or weird mommy memorabilia.) The shock of the second floor aside, what really had me Sang-shook - and I think all of us - was Sangwoo’s reaction, because for a while, many of us had debated on whether Sangwoo could feel anything. 

I’d like to explore Sangwoo’s breakdown a little. But please note, all of this is purely speculative, and Koogi’s proven to throw even the most complex theories a curve ball. So let’s get started:

Three words, and a whole world of depth.
“Something’s not right.”

This sentence stuck out to me. This moment burned itself into my mind. Why?Because I feel this was the moment Sangwoo was thrown back into the past, and he no longer just saw Bum on the floor. He saw a familiar picture, a scene in which he’d played a crucial role and was left vulnerable. I feel like this moment was Koogi’s way of mirroring, through Sangwoo’s eyes, what happened to Sangwoo’s mother. 

And I know, it’s a stretch guys. I’m aware that we don’t know what happened. Sangwoo hasn’t told us if he killed his parents, or if something else went down, but I feel this was a hint. I just couldn’t shake the feeling. And I caught a couple of signs before this; the first being Sangwoo’s peculiar way of speaking after he sees Bum’s blood running across the floor. It’s as if he reverts back to a childish state, and I think it carries more depth then being simply in “shock.”

“Make it go back.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Sangwoo is not a stranger to blood or guts. He’s killed countless women. He’s tortured and humiliated Bum before, and before this scene he even grabbed his bat to finish Bum off because he was pissed. And that makes sense, after all. Bum did something he could not control, and we all know how much Sangwoo needs his control. He’s not an amateur when it comes to human anatomy. He’s seen Bum bleed. He’s made Bum bleed. Given how he bandages Bum up later, he knows that the way Bum cut himself won’t kill him. So I thought, why the hell would he freak out like this? Why would he waste time trying to push the blood back when he’s clearly been more productive before. 

Instead of taking Bum upstairs immediately to stop the bleeding, he wigs out. The switch is flipped. He cups his hands and brings them together in a futile, almost child like attempt to make Bum stop bleeding, and this really disturbed me.

Then there’s this moment, and it clicked. 

It clicked, because I’ve had this moment.

Without getting too personal, I suffer from PTSD.

I’ve been abused as a child, and I was raped as an adult. It’s something that I battle with everyday, and there were times in my life where something, something so small and seemingly insignificant triggered a memory inside of me that just had me frozen. Just paralyzed with fear.

This frame, right here, took me back to all the times I stared off into the distance during topics of sexual assault, topics of abuse, and for that instant I relived the trauma. And this moment right here is when I think Sangwoo suffers a PTSD related flashback, and relives a moment that’s parallel to his past, which is why he reverts to a childish state. 

Whether it makes you upset or not, the fact of the matter is Oh Sangwoo is victim. He’s a murderer. Yes. A sociopath. Probably. But that doesn’t make the trauma he’s been through any less important or relevant to the person he is today. And while a mental illness isn’t a justification for murder or any of his actions, I think it’s a player.

PTSD: Symptoms may include nightmares or flashbacks

Avoidance of situations that bring back the trauma

Agitation, irritability, hostility, hyper-vigilance, self-destructive behavior. Hyper reactivity to stimuli.

Whether Sangwoo killed his mother, and was reliving that moment, is purely speculative. Whether his father killed his mother is again, purely speculative. But the question he posed to Bum at the end, about whether ‘Bum didn’t love him anymore because he was just like his father… is specific, and definitely mimicking words his own mother told him before. Soon after, he flies into a rage and almost drowns Bum. Perhaps, in the past, after his mother told him he was like his father, Oh Sangwoo flew into a similar fit of rage and killed her on accident… and the scene in the kitchen with the blood is him reliving that moment of fear and regret? Who can say. 

But I’m excited for what’s to come, and I’m even more excited to hear all your theories and thoughts. Bum is definitely someone he can’t leave behind anymore, but whether he loves Bum beyond using him to stave off his nightmares is something I’m dubious about. We’re definitely getting some important information here, and I was impressed with how vividly Koogi captured Sangwoo’s muddled mental state.

This chapter is my favorite thus far, and I’m pumped for what Koogi has in store. Thanks for reading.

cold coffee. (m)

pairing: jungkook | reader

genre: smut

word count: 4,564

description: “I wasn’t referring to verbal truth. I was referring to,” and then there was a brief pause that was followed by a light press to the center of your stomach. Your back laid flat against the wooden bench before the predatory loom of his figure appeared overhead, “Candor of the body. Which you, my love, are the absolute queen of.”

cr.


With an exchanged swipe, taste forthcoming as the two of you had intended. Too sweet, muttered against your lips – lips that curved into ones of amusement at his feigned disfavor for your particular arrangement of the poison. Too bitter, slipped past your teeth in retort, the air of the syllables brushing against his breath; a dance of icy exhales in a burning winter night. His mouth twitched at that, following your suit into similar enjoyment of the playful critique.

“Maybe not my coffee, but sweet in other aspects, no?” He spoke in a devilish dialect of insinuation and lust; one that, before encountering him, was unfamiliar to you. Adoration, it managed to claw at your chest with great vigor each and every time he glanced down at you through darkened tufts of raven hair. His words wrapping their way around you entirely until they sounded of music. The notes gliding across your bones as his voice conducted your motions.

Keep reading

‘’Why is she wearing my hoodie?’’

A/N: Here is just another fluff bomb for you all, hope you it! Please let me know what you think. Please note that english is not my first language so there might be grammar mistakes

Pairings: Bucky X Reader

Prompt: Bucky tries to figure out the reason behind his missing hoodie one day, relishing in the idea that might be a win-win situation for both of you.. but what might that lead to? 

Warnings: Fluff overload

Word count: 3745

Originally posted by snowfox934

It all started out innocently enough, on a monday evening after a return home from a particularly difficult mission. Your feet brushed against the cold kitchen tiles, a shiver trailing through your body as you made your way to the fridge for a late night snack. You grabbed a plate of brownies, showing the fridge close with your elbow before making your way to the television room.

You were surprised to find it empty, smiling to yourself as you relished in the idea of being able to pick a movie for once as you planted yourself on the couch. You placed the plate on the sofa table, bringing a brownie to your mouth as you browsed through the selection available on Netflix until you found something of your liking. Another shiver trailed down your spine, your body being tired and drained of energy from the mission and you reached over to the blanket at and brought it over your legs. Your eyes landed on a grey hoodie, figuring it was Steve’s you contently threw it over your shoulders and enjoyed the warmth and smell of the large garment that covered your figure.

Keep reading

Last Love:

Four long years, but here I am writing yet again another confession about you. It’s still you anyway. Whenever I hear a song or gone to places that we just used to tell each other, it brings back all the memories of you. Everything feels like yesterday.

I almost died when you left. The pain still lingers on and everyday I would wake up praying to God to help me recover. And it helps because there are times when I don’t think of you anymore. But you know it’s never a one-night process, up to this day I’m still picking up the pieces of myself that was shattered when you walked away.

The saddest part of it all, no one ever knew how I feel. They thought I moved on easily when in reality I still cry myself at night. It’s hard whenever they joke around me about what happened to us and I just shrugged it off like I don’ care, but the truth is, it still breaks my heart.

I have proven it myself that time doesn’t really heal all wounds, it would always be a choice. No matter how long the process will be, I surrender it everything to God.

I know you have someone else right now and even if it hurts (without any bitterness) I’m at peace knowing you’ve found a reason to be happy because you deserve it.

My new manager fired me. I fired his store.

This happened about 6 years ago.

I worked at (store that sells donuts that you may or may not dunk) that was in a somewhat far off location from the rest of the city in a relatively new shopping center. I was there when the store opened, and we never really got much traffic, but there was two large car clubs that came out twice a week to meet, and chat, and generally bring our store a lot of traffic. We were told that the clubs pretty much keeps the store afloat.

I worked there for a long while, and my manager was awesome. She did a great job of keeping everything stocked, gave out hours to people who actually worked their ass off instead of playing favorites, and she was never unfair about warnings or suspensions.

One day, she got seriously ill and had to quit. I never knew the details, but it was serious enough for her to quit her job. Then comes Swagger McA**hole, our new manager. Now, Swagger McA**hole had all the charm and wit of a rabid chihuahua. He was a generally angry man, and thought himself to be above everyone else in the store. He popped the collars of his button up shirt like he was going to bring that trend back from the dead. Needless to say, Swagger McA**hole wasn’t well liked.

He fired and replaced people left and right for usually petty or outright wrong reasons, and I was the last one standing, because for some reason, I was always asked to make the regular’s coffee, because I would remember their names, what they wanted, and how they liked it, and I usually had it in the process of being made as soon as I saw them walking up to the door. The car clubs knew me by name.

Enter Hannah Handjob. She started hanging around the store. A lot. Swagger McA**hole and Hannah Handjob would often hang out in the Manager’s office, sometimes with the door closed. Like we didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. A short while later, I find myself fired for some bullshit reason. I think what was written on my exit paperwork (which I refused to sign) was “wasting inventory”, whatever the fuck that meant.

Sorry for the long backstory. Here comes the revenge part. Remember those car clubs I talked about? I found their website and message boards, and told them my story. They told me how incredibly shitty they thought it all was, and always thought Swagger McA**hole was a poor replacement for our old manager. Both the clubs agreed to find a different venue for their morning to late afternoon meetups.

That was the death knell for that location. Three months later, I go back to turn in my uniforms, because I’m sick of looking at them in my closet, and they’re all closed up. I don’t know for sure that I had anything to do with their closing, but I’m at least 80% sure the car clubs were keeping them afloat.

I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
10

I don’t even know what say… I thought crying for 5 minutes would get all my emotions out but no… he saved so many lives and inspired many but that the fact that his own words couldn’t save his life hurts the most… I wish you were still here and I could give back life like you did for us /his fans/…RIP thank you for the inspiration and I’ll try to continue what you started~☾
-
You say you’re not gonna fight
‘Cause no one will fight for you
And you think there’s not enough love
And no one to give it to
And you’re sure you’ve hurt for so long
You’ve got nothing left to lose
So you say you’re not gonna fight
'Cause no one will fight for you
You say the weight of the world
Has kept you from letting go
And you think compassion’s a flaw
And you’ll never let it show
And you’re sure you’ve hurt in a way
That no one will ever know
But someday the weight of the world
Will give you the strength to go~LP

BTS Reaction | Kissing another member

Request; the bts member your dating seeing you kissing another member

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon would be more disappointed with you than he was angry, he wouldn’t understand why you would kiss Jin when the two of you had been so happy in your relationship.

“Why did you kiss Jin? I thought were were happy Y/N…”

Kim Seokjin

Jin would blame himself when he saw you kiss Namjoon. He’d think back to all the times he was unable to be there and support you because of work, thinking that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend and that he didn’t deserve you.

“Y/N, I know you kissed nNamjoon” “You don’t have to explain, I know I’m not good enough for you”

Min Yoongi

Yoongi would be glaring at you from the door way, tears rolling down his face, when you noticed him he’d just continue to stare at you in disbelief, his eyes full of hurt and anger.

“Really Y/N?” “You were always so worried i’d cheat when I was away on tour when I never even looked at another girl, and hear you are kissing my bandmate, Jung Hoseok of all people"

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok would be more upset than angry, walking away from the studio when he saw you and Yoongi kissing. He always knew you had a soft spot for Yoongi but he never knew you’d do that to him, when he calmed down he’d confront you about it later.

“I saw you kiss Yoongi in the studio, did it mean anything?” Are you breaking up with me for him?” 

Park Jimin

Jimin wouldn’t quite believe what he saw, he’d wait till later to ask you about it and would probably end up crying, knowing deep down what he saw was real but he still had some hope that it was just his imaginitation.

“You wasn’t kissing Taehyung earlier, right?” “Please tell me I was just imagining things”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung would have a hard time bringing himself to even look at you after he caught you kissing Jimin, he thought he could trust you but the moment he saw you two together, any ounce of trust he had for you was gone.

“Why did you do it Y/N?” “Am I not enough, did I do something wrong?”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook would storm off the moment he saw you and Taehyung kissing, he wouldn’tbe able to hold back his tears, sobbing loudly . He’d end up blaming himself thinking he wasn’t good enough for you and that’s why you kissed someone else.

“It’s my fault, don’t apologise” “I’m not there for you enough, I’m sorry I should have been, it’s all my fault but please let me be a better boyfriend, don’t leave me”

Webs || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,331 words

Request from @bbparker : Hey could you please do an imagine with Peter Parker where your cat (or your dog aha) runs away and you’re upset over it but Spider-Man brings it back (because you’re obvs friends with Peter) for you and the whole cheesy Spider-Man kiss happens? Thanks very much! :) (Also my @ is BBParker but my tumbles being a bitch aha so could you pls tag?)

No spoilers, fam. I didn’t edit it I’m sorry

Originally posted by fyeahmarvel

Y/N strolled through her neighborhood with her new dog on his leash. As an early birthday gift, her family got her a new dog. She hadn’t decided on a name for the dog, but she thought it would be nice to take the pooch on his first walk around the neighborhood. The dog had been pulling on the leash hard for a while, but Y/N just thought he was excited. The dog suddenly got out of his collar and starting bolting down the street.

“Come back!” She shouted, running after the small creature, but he was too fast for her. Y/N stopped, resting against a lamp post while trying to regain her breath as she watched the dog flee from her sight. “Come back,” she whispered breathlessly, hoping the dog would miraculously stop, and run back to her.

Y/N slumped her shoulders, tears starting to build up in her eyes. She dragged her body back to her house. She saw her front door quickly approaching. What would she tell her family,she thought. Yeah, the new dog you just got me escaped from the collar cause it wasn’t tight enough, and ran away.

She opened the door solemnly and rushed to her room trying to avoid any confrontation. She jumped onto her bed, putting her head in her hands. The poor dog was probably all scared and alone. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop her tears. Y/N grabbed her phone from her pocket, wanting to vent to her best friend, Peter.

Y/N has had a crush on Peter since as long as she’s known him. She always thought that he was such a great person, who deserved the entire world. When he told her about the Stark Internship and going to Germany to fight Captain America as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man she was shocked. She wouldn’t have ever thought that the man, or as she realized boy, swinging around the city was her best friend.

Peter also had a crush on her, he just never voiced his thoughts. If she didn’t like him once he told her, that would’ve ruined there entire friendship. Peter would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all. Telling her that he was Spider-Man was the first step to confessing his feelings because that meant he trusted her enough. One day he was going to tell her how he felt, one day. 

Hey Pete. She typed quickly on her phone.

Hola, Y/N. What’s up?

Y/N sighed, thank god he wasn’t busy.

Can I call you? She texted back, biting her lip. He didn’t reply, instead his contact name appeared on her screen with a green and red button. She pressed the green one, letting out a sigh. She press her phone to her ear.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” He asked in a worried tone. She heard shuffling through the phone.

“I lost my dog.” She sniffled, trying to sound somewhat normal. The shuffling in the background stopped, “You don’t have a dog.” He said slowly, not wanting to provoke his friend in any way.

“I just got him today as an early birthday gift. Look, I’ll text you a picture of him. If you see him while your fighting crime, can you like, get him. I don’t know what to do.” She said sadly, shaking her head.

“Of course,” he replied but paused, causing more shuffling, “Look, I gotta go.The whole superhero thing. I’ll talk to you later alright?” He stated, his voice now slightly muffled. Y/N raised an eyebrow but ignored the situation. “Alright, bye.” Peter ended the call, not replying.

It had been an hour since her dog escaped her grasp. She decided to go out looking for him again, hopping for the best.It was starting to get dark outside but Y/N wanted to make sure that the poor animal was okay. So she put her shoes back on and grabbed the leash, with the collar still attached, leaving the house.

She looked around a few blocks but sadly, came up empty handed. Y/N was ready to give up when she heard barking coming from the alleyway. “Just my luck, the scariest alley on the block.” She mumbled to herself, walking into the dark abyss.

“Hey, puppy, where are you?” Y/N said softly as if she was talking to a baby. She heard barking coming from above her. The dog was on the fire escape to one of the buildings. “What the fu-” Before she could answer,she heard footsteps behind her. Terrified, she slowly turned around.

Y/N was met with the red and blue tights of Spider-Man. The man stood, waving a hand towards her, “Hey, Y/N.” He said slightly confused.

“Oh thank god,” She said letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding while placing her hand on her chest, “I thought it was someone that was going to kill me.” She let out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you still out here, looking for your dog?” He asked crossing his arms. Y/N brought a hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

“I found him actually. But he somehow managed to get stuck on the fire escape.” She stated, pointing to the adorable dog above her.

“Well,” Peter started dramatically, “I think I can help.” He cockily said, shooting his webs toward the dog’s direction. Spider-Man was hanging from his webs from a staircase that was above the dog. He spun himself upside down, now facing the panting dog. “Hey there little buddy.” He said, grabbing the dog with one hand, holding the web with the other.

He slide down the web, right in front of Y/N, handing her the dog. She grabbed the dog, “Awe, you’re okay.” She said, petting the dog, putting him down. She took the leash that she was holding, now putting it on the dog securely.Y/N stood up, holding the leash tightly in one hand, giving him a slight closed lip smile. She reached her hands up, right under the opening of his mask. She pulled it down, just under his nose. It’s now or never. She thought to herself

She leaned in, closing her eyes. Peter closed his eyes as well, not knowing what else to do. She put one hand on his masked cheek. She placed her lips upon his, in a short yet sweet passionate kiss. Y/N pulled away, opening her eyes slowly, with a smile on her face. “Thank you Peter.” Y/N beamed, walking out of the alley with her dog beside her.

Peter stayed where he was on his webs, unable to move from what just happened. He jumped down from his position, standing on the ground with his jaw slacked. He then smiled widely, pulling his mask down and swinging away.

Y/N slammed her from door shut, taking the leash off of the dog. She was so happy that she had found the dog and even happier that she saw Spider-Man. Kissed him even. She smiled, running to her room, giggling. 

A few weeks later, Peter decided to ask her out. She obviously said yes. The two where hanging out at Y/N house in her room. They heard footsteps coming towards her room, which turned out to be her dog. The dog walked up to Peter sniffing him, before starting to lick the teenage boy. The act made Peter laugh and pet the dog’s soft head.

“What did you name him?” Peter asked, turning to Y/N while still petting the dog. Y/N chuckled, “Umm, I named him Webs.”

His eyes widened, with a small smile evident on his face, “You didn’t.”

“I had to,” She said shrugging your shoulders, “You’re his savior after all.”

Finding out Jerome came back from the dead would include:

Originally posted by ajanaomisqueen

Warning: Swearing.

A/N: Since Jerome’s comeback I started to be super trash.


  • Him breaking into your house at night, waking you up with his laughter. 
  • You screaming and swinging a bat at him, hitting him a few times before realising it’s Jerome. 
    • “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
    • Realising he should be dead. 
    • Swearing and hitting him with the bat again. 
    • More screaming. 
  • Jerome taking the bat away and him being super salty, pointing it at you.
    • “And I thought you would hug me or give me a welcome home blowjob or something.”
    • You punching him in the face. “What in the hell is wrong with this city!”
  • After you calmed down you both sit down on your couch, staring at each other uncomfortably. 
    • “What happened to your face?” 
    • “Ya know, some ass cut it off and wore it as a mask. I had to staple my face back.” 
    • “How are you alive?”
    • “Same guy. Tried to bring me back and because it took too long, he cut off this beautiful face to face my cult, blah blah blah.” 
    • “This shit only happens in this bloody town!” 
  • Jerome telling you everything he remembers before and after his death and awakening, and you explaining what happened to you over the year. 
    • “So… you have a boyfriend/girlfriend I need to kill?” 
    • “You died before my eyes, Jerome. Do you really thing I would look for a new partner? I mourned you, you idiot.”
    • Jerome grinning and putting an arm around you, kissing playfully your cheek. “I’m glad I got a loyal gal/pal on my site.”  
  • Having a break down after your emotions settled down and Jerome trying to comfort you, patting awkwardly your back and not trying to knock you out.
Did Tamlin punish Lucien after chapter 47?

I was reading through chapter 47 of acomaf (the confrontation with Lucien in the woods) and While I was reading I read Lucien voice more frightened than I did the first time. And while then I remembered that there were sentinels.

And while Tamlin could have taken the report from Lucien I don’t doubt that he asked the sentinels as well. And they would have no problem telling Tamlin the truth, but what did Lucien report? Did he lie? Did he tell the truth?

I get the feeling when he says, “let’s go home,” that he’s afraid to leave without her. Like if there are consequences for not bringing Feyre back, and if Lucien lied and said they didn’t find her, and one of the sentinels told the truth. Would Tamlin punish him?

But even if Lucien told the truth, I don’t doubt that Tamlin didn’t punish him for not bringing her back.

I have come to this idea that no matter what happened after that, Lucien was punished. But Lucien also left, Rhysand or not, he left. The thing is I think Lucien fears that Rhysand is using Feyre like Tamlin is using him, to gain. I think that’s why he waited a second before winnowing away, like there was something he wanted to say, or a second thought.

Lucien have stated before that when Tamlin doesn’t get what he wants or when things don’t go his way that Tamlin tends to be harmful. (I think that’s what it said in Acotar (correct me if I’m wrong)) and that not even he wanted to be near him then. But someone had to give him the report.

I think that Tamlin did hurt Lucien for not bringing Feyre back, with or without force.

And I also theorize that that is going to come into play in Acowar. For example: Feyre sees some scars on Lucien’s neck and asks him, “what are those scars?” And he answers with, “the consequences for not getting you back.”

Discuss with me, what do you think?

Watch Me Babygirl [pt.4]

[pt.1] [pt.2] [previous part] [next part] [pt.6] [pt.7] [pt.8] [pt.9] [pt.10] [pt.11]  [pt.12]

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Warnings: slight language


Jungkook was one of the only things on your mind for days. He’d kissed you… and then run off. At the end of the game he’d simply smirked at you, sending a wink your way before slinging an arm around Jimin and laughing as Jimin gloated about their victory.

You sighed, pushing your books into your locker. It was Friday and all you wanted to do was call Taehyung and have him bring snacks over to your house for a movie night.

You pushed your locker closed and jumped back at the figure that had been standing behind the door, blocked from your view.

“What the hell! Jungkook you can’t do shit like that,” you said, placing a hand over your heart as you looked at him.

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