i turn 25 in a few months



I should really rename this comic “Keith’s suffering” because I just feel like I’ve been taunting him for the past few pages.

Also are you guys ready for it to get…. REALLY GLITTERY? BECAUSE I DON’T THINK YOU ARE. 

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Some thoughts on the Shallura Plot thread in this comic under the cut.

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Hello, Charming

Request from anon for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#25 - “Shut up and kiss me.”

#41 - “I need your help.”

#87 - “You owe me big time.”

A/N - I kept Donna alive and well in this by the way!!

Originally posted by wcaohtbltorsoaff

You’re cruising down the highway, windows down and music up as you head into Charming. You’d been away for a few months visiting family, and you’d decided to surprise your best friend Opie by just turning up to TM, in the hopes that he would be there of course.

But as always, something has to go wrong, and that’s just what happens when your car starts making a noise that it should not be making. With a groan, you pull over and get out of the car, pretending that you’ve got some sort of knowledge on motors.

Yanking up the hood, you start practically choking as you’re slammed in the face with smoke, the rest of it rising up into the air as you try to fan it away. Groaning to yourself, you pull out your phone. There goes the surprise.

You open your drivers seat door, sitting in and letting your legs hang out as you listen to the dial tone, knowing Ope was never that good at answering.

“Hello?” You smile involuntarily at the sound of his voice, butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“Guess you never did get around to saving my number, hm?“ You scold, kicking the loose stones on the floor. “I swear you’re like a grandad when it comes to technology.”

“Nice to hear from you too. You’re lucky I’ve still got the same number, we usually have to change it every few months.” He sasses, his voice still as gruff, although you can hear the smile as he talks.

“Guess I’m just a lucky bitch, aren’t I?” He chuckles down the line, and you can imagine him shaking his head and combing his hair back, excitement rushing through you knowing you’re going to see him really soon.

“The one and only. How’s it going back home?” You inhale sharply, acting as if there is a serious problem, wanting to surprise him as much as possible.

“That’s why I called actually. I need your help.” You flood your voice with concern, thanking your high school theatre days for helping you become so dramatic.

“Shit, (Y/N), are you in trouble? I told you to go our charter up there if you needed anything.” You pull out a cigarette as he lectures you on the other end, lighting it up and taking a drag, letting the nicotine run through your veins.

“Calm it, worry wart. It’s just, I’m about five minutes out of good old Charming town, by that little field we used to get high in. Yeah, my piece of shit motor has conked out on me. Could really do with a tow.” You walk back out to your bonnet, where the smoking has subsided but now it’s sort of hissing.

“You’re back in Charming? Why? I mean not that it won’t be good to see you-” He tries to cover himself, you smirking at his nervousness.

“That relative I went for? Yeah, he died.” You take a drag of your cigarette as Opie stays silent, not knowing what to say. “I’m alright though. So, see you in twenty?”

You hear him hesitate, probably wanting to console you, but let’s it go. He huffs dramatically, “You owe me big time.”

You laugh, dropping your fag nub and putting it out with your foot. “Thanks, Ope. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s someone else you can’t wait to see, either.” He teases, you rolling your eyes in response, but not denying his statement.

“Yeah, yeah. See you soon, shithead.“

Leaning on the side of your car, you watch as Opie drops out of the van, slamming the door closed behind him. You stand up, walking over to meet him, him wrapping his arms around you tightly. He pulls away, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you’re still driving around in this piece of shit.“ He laughs, walking over to your car and looking under the bonnet. “Looks like an oil leak, and some of these parts could use a replacement. I’ll just hook it up and we’ll get going. ”

“Alright. So how’s Donna? The kids?” You ask, watching as he sorts out the hook up. You and her had always been quite close, helping out with Kenny and Ellie and spending nights drinking and gossiping.

“They’re all good. Donna asked about you the other day, wanted to know when you were coming back. I think she’s sick of being only surrounded by men.” You laugh, not realising how much you missed Charming until now. The MC, feeling welcome, like you belong somewhere. You loved your old home and family but you couldn’t be yourself the way you could be in Charming.

“I’ve missed her, and the kids. I’ll have to pop in tomorrow or something, once I’m settled in. How’s SAMCRO doing?” You follow Ope as he goes to the tow truck, the two of you getting in your respective sides, before he starts the engine up.

“A.T.F have been up our asses since you left, some bony bitch called Stahl. I’m sure she’ll introduce herself once she sees you’re connected to us.” He grumbles, as he begins the route to TM.

You smile as the scenery becomes more and more familiar, small talk passing between the two of you, and before long you pull into Teller-Morrow, a sick feeling in your stomach as the nerves almost choke you.

Once the engine is killed, you slip out of the vehicle, closing the door behind you as you slip your sunglasses over your eyes. The lot looks empty, and you’re not sure if you’re glad about that or not. You don’t have much time to think about it as the door to the clubhouse opens, members adorning leather pouring out.

“Jax is probably in his room.“ Opie states knowingly, a smirk on his lips. You opened your mouth to start to deny that that’s who you were hoping to see, but think better of it, brushing him off and walking towards the clubhouse.

Luckily, the clubhouse is empty when you walk in, making it seem a lot less nerve wracking. You look around, barely believing that it’s been six months since you walked through these doors. You walk towards the apartments, continuing until you reach Jax’s door.

You don’t even know what you’re supposed to say, you think, anxious feelings building higher and higher. It’s only Jax, you tell yourself, knocking on the door before you can chicken out.

“Yeah?” Your heart flutters as you hear him speak, the feelings that you’ve always kept for him rising closer to the surface. You turn the door handle, peeking your head through the door, seeing Jax laying on the bed, his back to you.

“It’s still as messy in here as it was when I left. Minus the croweaters. Hopefully.” You tease, stepping into the room. He looks over his shoulder, a side smile appearing on his lips as he takes you in. Cheeks blushing slightly, you smile at him, the two of you looking at the other for a second.

“I didn’t know you were back in town.” He says, pulling himself off the bed and coming to greet you, that same old Jax Teller scent encasing you as he hugs you. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him, the two of you lingering a little longer than normal.

“Only just got here, Ope had to give me a ride.” He holds you at arms length as you explain, his eyebrow raising in question. “Car broke down. Again.”

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you when he smiles, the sight still being as beautiful as ever. “You’d be better off walking.”

Fake laughing at his joke, you watch as he goes to his bed, slipping on his grey button up mechanic shirt, before he throws his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the room. You try to seem casual as he talks to you, his face so close to yours you can see every strand of hair on his face, every fleck in his eyes.

Reaching outside, he removes his arm from you, the two of you walking to where your car is now sitting in the garage, the hood already up and ready to be worked on.

“(Y/N)? That you, sweetheart?” Gemma appears at the door of her office, her ears picking up the sound of your voice. She smiles lovingly at you, meeting you and pulling you into her arms. The two of you had mostly got on, a bit shaky at first but when she realised you were a good person with good intentions, she warmed to you quite well.

“It’s nice to have you back, the filing cabinet is looking a little crazy without your organising.” She grins, turning to look at Jax, who was now standing with Opie, his face lit up with humour. “He’s missed you, you know. You’re good for him.”

You choke slightly, your cheeks warming with embarrassment as you fail to act casual. “We’re just-”

“Friends. Yeah, I know, but a mother has these instincts. Maybe you should trust me on them.” You smile admiringly at her, nodding your head in acceptance.

“Yes, maam.” You reply, her telling you she’s throwing a ‘welcome back’ dinner for you tomorrow, and you promising you’ll be there before she disperses. You walk into the garage, recognising a few faces.

“Welcome back, lass.” Chibs greets you, followed by Clay and Piney, you hugging them all. Piney was like a second father to you, especially because of you being around Opie so much.

“She just can’t stay away.” Opie comments, all of the boys eyes looking behind you. You turn to see a car parking up in the lot, some skinny blonde bitch getting out of her car, making sure to check her reflection before she begins to walk over.

You look at Jax, the look on his face confirming your suspicions that this girl was here for him. Rolling your eyes internally, a heavy feeling resting in your gut, you turn back around and stand next to Opie.

“So, I was just wondering if I could get that lift home?” She flirts, her finger trailing up Jax’s chest. You can’t control the bubble of laughter that slips past your lips, the members in the garage, except for Jax, smirking amongst each other as they feel the tension rising.

The girl turns to look at you, chomping on her gum as she does. You feel your blood boiling just from her looking at you, the snarl on her lips making you glare. “Something funny, bitch?”

You raise your eyebrows, standing up completely straight as you step to her, making sure she knows you’re not intimidated by some barbie bitch.

“Didn’t you just drive here, in your own car? Yet you need a lift?” You question, the girl looking like she’s not used to being talked back to. “Just find your desperation funny, so I laughed. Problem?”

“Why don’t you just run along and find another MC to blow?” She spits, your eyes flickering to Jax who looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“I don’t have to suck dick to be able to stick around, unlike you.” You hear the men chuckle behind you, Chibs whistling lowly. “Maybe you should pay attention to people’s reactions, their facial expressions. Look around, nobody seems to be craving your attention do they?”

Her mouth opens and closes, not really knowing what to say. She looks at Jax, his jaw locked as he stares at her, the support that she’s hoping for obviously not going to come. You glare at her as she returns her attention to you, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“Well, honey, if you’re here for the VP, I gotta tell you,” she steps closer to you, getting in your face, your fist curling. “he’s already occupied.”

You try to keep your face neutral, not wanting to seem like a crazy bitch who’s obsessed with a guy she’s not even with.

“I’m happy for you, honestly. Though, I really doubt that him fucking you and then kicking you out as soon as he’s done counts as being anything serious.” The words are bitter on your tongue, the thought of Jax having sex with someone hurts your naive brain.

You barely have time to react before you feel a sting on your cheek, realising this bitch has slapped you. Scoffing, you feel your body engulf in rage, your fist flying into her face. She staggers back, her hand cradling her nose as it pours with blood, but you’re not finished yet.

Grabbing her round the throat, you slam her against one of the cars, your grip tight on her throat. “You EVER lay your fucking hands on me again, and I swear to god, I’ll cut them fucking off. Understand?”

Her head nods furiously as she tries to remove your hold from her neck. You pull her from the car, yanking back her hair and beginning to lead her to her car, sounds of pain emitting from her.

“You’re not welcome here, and you’re certainly not welcome around Jax. Stay the fuck away.” You release your hold, watching as she shakily gets in her car, driving away as quickly as she can, you not moving until she’s gone.

You walk back towards the garage, the men gathered outside, watching the show, clapping boyishly at you. You wave them off, smirking at them. “So, we gonna fix my ride?”

“Let’s do it.” Opie says, Jax watching you with an unreadable expression. The older men leave, just the three of you left in TM. You sit on the counter, enjoying the quaintness of the atmosphere.

“I forgot what it was like to see your angry side.” Opie jests, as he hands you some paperwork for you to fill in. You smile proudly, grabbing a pen from the side of you.

“Bitches shouldn’t piss me off.” You look at Jax, knowing he’s listening to the conversation but not really taking part. “Couldn’t you nail a nice girl for a change, Jackie boy?”

He looks at you, a smile making its way on to his lips as he attends to your car. You smile back, glad that you’ve diffused the awkward mood.

A ringing fills the room, Opie reaching into his pocket and answering the call, walking outside to talk. You continue to fill in the form, Jax watching you without your knowledge.

He cherishes the chance to look at you like this, so freely. The way your eyebrows knot when you’re concentrating. The way there is a little strand of hair that somehow always covers your face, your hand briskly sweeping it back everytime. He finds himself smiling, just from you doing nothing, the beauty you hold so pure and genuine.

“That was Donna.” Opie says, Jax pulling his focus away from you and turning back to the task at hand. “She needs me to pick up the kids from school. You okay to hold the fort, bro?”

Jax nods in response, you telling Opie to give the kids your love, him agreeing before leaving.

You finish the last part of the document, signing off with your signature, before placing it on the side and jumping down from the counter, Jax watching you from the corner of his eye.

He can’t help but watch your ass as you move, your jeans hugging your body in all the right ways. He internally slaps himself for his lack of concentration, knowing it’s only going to get worse as you drag a stool near him, sitting down so close that he can smell your perfume.

“I wish I could be of assistance, honestly, but I don’t really know shit about cars.” You admit, him shaking his head in amusement as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag.

“Pass me that part over there. The one next to the red spanner.” He adds, recognising your look of confusion. You do as he asks, passing him what he needs, your skin touching his as he grabs it from you.

“So, you got a boyfriend back home?” He tries to sound casual, a flutter in your stomach as he questions you. He looks at you, hoping that you give him the answer he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got loads of boyfriends back home.” Your words are nothing but sarcastic, Jax smirking, his shoulders relaxing as he knows you’re single. He tries to tell himself not to be so happy about it, you probably don’t even see him in that way.

“What about you? Has the infamous Jax Teller got anybody in line to be his Old Lady?” You force yourself to ask him, knowing that you want to find out either way, even if it hurts. At least you’ll know where you stand.

“Nah, not many can handle this life. Takes a certain kind of woman to be able to catch my eye.“ You look at your lap, fiddling with a loose thread on your jeans, your heart feeling crushed at his words.

Unbeknownst to you, you’re all that he’s describing. He knows you can handle this life, watching your fire and passion over the last few years that you’ve been around. You’re sexy, intelligent, respectful, you get on with his family. You’re perfect for him. He just doesn’t know how to get to you.

“I get that. Can’t trust these hoes.” He chuckles at you, a smile on your lips that doesn’t quite meet your eyes but he’s unsure why.

“So, where are you staying? Didn’t you stop renting that apartment once you left?“ He lights up a cigarette, your eyes breathing him in as he takes a drag, looking so sexy with no effort at all.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check in to a motel I think, ‘till I find somewhere I want to live.” You explain, passing Jax a tool that he gestures to. He takes another drag of his cig, resting on the pillar near to you.

“You can stay at mine till you get settled, if you want. I’ve got a spare room, as long as you don’t mind the fact that I hog the shower.” You don’t know what to say as he looks at you, nerves seeping in as you think of whether that’s a good idea or not.

“Are you sure? I mean I don’t want to intrude.” He shakes his head at your protest, pulling a single key off his key chain and passing it to you.

“My mom would probably kill me if I didn’t offer, anyway.” You take the key from him, flipping the piece of metal between your fingers. “I’d rather you that than stay in some dodgy motel. You remember where I live, yeah?”

“Yeah, I do. Thank you, Jax, I can’t thank you enough.” You respond, standing up and slipping the key into your pocket.

You check your appearance in the mirror, your face freshly washed and your body freshly showered. You try not to panic, knowing that Jax is going to see you without makeup, your palms sweating slightly. Heading out of the bedroom, you walk towards the kitchen, going to grab yourself a cup of tea before heading to bed.

“Hey.” You greet as you emerge from the hallway, Jax sitting at the table. His eyes roam up and down your body, the pajama shorts you’re wearing leaving your legs bare. He feels himself hardening as you reach up into the cupboard, your ass threatening to peek out from the material.

“Want a brew?” You ask, looking over your shoulder. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you catch Jax rip his gaze away from your exposed skin, you holding up a mug in question.

“I’m good, thanks.” He chokes, clearing his throat. You finish making your drink in silence, trying not to feel awkward. Once you’re done, you slip into a chair opposite Jax, noticing he’s deep in thought.

“You okay?” You take a sip from your mug as he comes back to reality, a sigh leaving his lips as he nods at you.

“Just club shit.” He responds, grabbing a smoke and lighting it up. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, the silence feeling comfortable.

“Thanks again for this, Jax. I’m gonna start house hunting tomorrow.” You tell him, not wanting to overstay your welcome.

“Stay as long as you need, it’s nice to have some company around here.” You smile at his honesty, knowing how easy it is to feel lonely. Feeling brave, you reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his, his skin slightly rough under yours.

He looks at your hand on top of his, feeling so many different and conflicted feelings. You move your hand away, not knowing if you’ve overstepped a boundary or not. Why was this dude so hard to read?!

“I’m gonna head to bed.” He doubts his cig in the ashtray, his chair scraping the floor as he stands up. He moves over to you leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, your eyes closing involuntarily.

His lips linger on your skin, the sexual tension between you two shooting up to a million. His nose nudges yours, his breath warm on your skin, the smell of mint and smoke an intoxicating combination.

His lips skim yours, the movements between the two of you being so careful as not to ruin the moment. You close the distance, your lips pressing against his slowly, testing the waters. He responds instantly, his mouth moving against yours so skillfully.

Like a switch has been flicked, the kiss changes dramatically. Your hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling on the strands there as his teeth pull at your lower lip, a sound of pleasure slipping out of you. You stand up, Jax tapping your thighs, you taking the hint as you jump, wrapping your legs around him. He squeezes your ass in his large hands, kneading at the skin as your tongue battles with his, the two of you addicted to the taste of each other.

You feel yourself being placed down, the table taking your weight. Jax yanks your shirt, the material ripping under his fingers as your chest is exposed, the shirt being the only barrier.

His mouth wraps around on of your nipples, his tongue swirling as he kneads your other breast in his hand, your head dropping back as you gasp in pleasure. You’re not sure if you’ll regret this in the morning, but right now you’re too turned on to care.

He swiftly pulls of his shirt, your fingers exploring his muscled chest. He pushes you to lie down, his hands pulling at your shorts, your underwear being dragged down too as you’re left completely naked on the table.

Jax’s eyes feast on you, hardly being able to take how delicious you look, bare and ready infront of him. He pushes down his sweatpants and steps out of them, a nervous breath leaving your lips as you see how well endowed he is.

He pulls you to the edge of the table by your legs, his mouth placing a messy kiss on your lips before he spreads your legs, teasing your entrance with his shaft.

He pushes into you, your hands at the side of you for support as you adjust to his size, the feeling of fullness making you gasp. You watch his expression, his eyebrows furrowing as he feels you around him, your pussy so tight and slick.

A moan leaves your lips as he pulls out, pushing himself back in, your hand grabbing his face and attaching your lips with his, his mouth silencing your moans as he fucks you on the table.

Your whole body is electrified as he slams in and out of you, your neck probably a mess of marks as he bites and at the skin. You lie back, your hands moving to your chest, pulling at the sensitive nubs as Jax spreads your legs as wide as he can, his cock reaching deeper and deeper inside of you.

He hears your moans getting louder, sees your body arching off the table as he watches you reach orgasm, your fingers rubbing your clit as you explode around him. Your vision is clouded with stars, Jax fucking you through it as he groans deeply, emptying himself inside of you.

“Fuck.” he curses, enjoying the sight of yours and his juices seeping out of your hole as he pulls out, his thumb gently circling your sensitive clit, your body feeling tired and well spent.

You sit up, Jax helping you in getting off the table. You stand in front of him, his hands slipping down your naked body, resting on your bare ass as you lean against him.

“So, that was fun.” His tone is cheeky, his teeth nibbling at your ear, your body tingling at his touch.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You order, grabbing his head and locking your lips with his.

A/N - long af, hope you guys liked it!!! Smut wasn’t planned but felt like it went so :) xxxx


September 2017: I’m moving my HUGE rec list onto this account. I CONSTANTLY AM UPDATING THIS POST WITH NEW RECS BTW JUST TO KEEP THINGS IN ORDER.

September 25 2015: Recently I’ve been getting back into Hey Arnold! (again…) and with all the hype about Nick dropping some heavy clues that our long wait for the jungle movie or just any news at all for the ending we all know Hey Arnold! Needs and deserves well I couldn’t help it but get back to reading fanfiction again!Now now … lately I’ve been complaining a lot about the bad fanfiction I’ve been reading and how little rec lists there are since the fandom is sorta tiny so I decided to make a rec list of fanfictions that won’t make you wanna cringe!So I might as well get this one out of the way, since most of the fandom has read it and it’s one of those “fanfiction the entire fandom knows about” but I’m sure there’s a few people here and there that haven’t read it and the story is of course, the amazing, 

Helga and Arnold meet at Eugene’s wedding, ten years after the cruel circumstances that split them apart. Helga reveals a secret, and its not what you may think.

Oh no-it seems Arnold needs a little help with his poetry assignment if he wants a decent grade in English!Hmm, I wonder what fourth grade poet laurete Mr.Simmons could assign to help him out…Set postconfession to make things even more fun

What could be more amusing than taking two hundred thousand words to make Arnold realize he loves Helga? Taking EIGHT hundred thousand words to explore in detail how this newfound relationship is working out! Sequel to Tutoring Arnold! Let’s do this!

“ … She was still Helga and he was still Arnold: the enemies, the lovers, the eternal paradox…”

When a girl is known for being strong, it can tear her apart to be looked at with pity. Helga Pataki, an 18 year old girl, had a part of herself stolen from her one night and ever since then, she lost herself. She was ready to give her life up, until someone reached a helping hand out for her. Arnold wouldn’t let her fall, especially not when someone else was going down with her.

Helga figured that Arnold was drunk enough to not remember anything, and she was drunk enough to think it was a good idea. But she’ll soon find out that what they’d done that night isn’t going to be a secret for long. Very Slight AU.

Arnold can’t decide which is harder: Raising a baby or figuring out his feelings for Helga. Sequel to Dropped the Ball.

He brought it up first. Just because she was hopelessly in love with Arnold didn’t mean she’d risk any chance of being exposed. She’d never suggest something as crazy as being Friends With Benefits. Oh, no, this was all his fault because he brought it up first.

Love is like a baseball bat. It’s used as a weapon if needed. It’s something you hold close to you, something to be used with all of your strength. You have to fight to get a decent swing, just like the good relationships are worth fighting for

A journey through time reveals the trials and tribulations of an unlikely couple.

“You do nothing.” Helga whimpered to herself. “You sit and watch, and you, and, you let him go. Cause there’s, nothing you can do.”

Dr. Bliss receives a new patient. My sequel to the Hey Arnold! Episode Helga On The Couch. This time, it’s Arnold’s turn to talk! Enjoy!

Teenage Helga gets a letter from a long lost friend.

July 25 2016:

I said a few days but it’s actually been months…

Anyway this is probably the longest fanfic rec list yet

I’ve read A LOT of fanfiction since the last list and I want to share the gems I’ve found with ya’ll

Some of these are incomplete and some are ongoing, basically if it’s been over a year since the last update I will mark it as INCOMPLETE.

Instead of me getting all crazy over how much I love these fics like I did the first time, I will be posting the original summary. This list will be long and I will probably repeat myself since I do love all these fics.

It would be a daunting enough task to tutor the weird girl with the bizarre hair and bizarre fashion sense even if you had never actually met her. It was downright scary to tutor that girl and know that, at least once, she had been in love with you. A/H

Arnold begins to see the real Helga in his dreams and starts to wonder about his arch nemesis.

4 years after graduation, everybody else has moved on, but Helga is still waiting for something to happen to her.

Arnold and Helga make a deal: If she can help him get a date with the girl of his dreams by coaching him in romance, then he has to accompany her to formal dinner as her date. However, a lot can change in two months time. Will Helga be able to handle helping Arnold woo another woman? And if Arnold does get what he wants, will he still want what he gets?

Senior Year of High School: Helga loves Arnold. Arnold loves Helga. Lila wants Arnold and will do anything to have him. And that’s all before the school year even starts!

What would happen if Helga had never erased her name from the wall in the episode “Arnold and Lila”?

The sequel to “Arnold Loves Helga”. What will happen in particular episodes now that Arnold and Helga have been on a date? The answers are here in this new reality.

While on a road trip to Vancouver with Gerald, Phoebe and Arnold, Helga decides to torment Arnold during the trip but what happens when things heats up…could things change their normal relationship into something more?

In a moment of irrational thinking, Arnold agrees to let Helga help him get Lila to fall for him. However, he soon learns the hard way the nothing is ever a sure thing.

Helga had always made it her personal mission to keep her love for Arnold a secret. She’d never ever thought that someone would overhear her monologging about him! And this guy was ready to demand absolutely awkward, terrifying and embarrassing things from Helga in exchange for not telling her secret to anyone.

Always prideful, Helga is loathe to ask for help, especially from the person who makes her feel so vulnerable… but it’s about more than just her…

At sixteen, while on an extended visit in Hillwood, Arnold not only reconnects with his friends and old times, but also, having to battle his ongoing sexual desires regarding Helga. As for Helga, she too is facing the same struggle.

Most people would argue that Arnold is a saint of nature. Lady Luck is not always on his side though and one day, while playing baseball, he hits the ball so hard it flies through the window to Madame Blanche’s store. The gypsy does not take it lightly and puts a curse on him. Soon he starts acting weird around his peers; especially around a certain blonde girl.

“Well maybe not your complete soul but definitely part of it. If you’re willing to bare your body to me, it’s only fair I get to see part of your soul too.”

He was sick, he had to be. How else could he explain the fire inside him every time she smirked at him or teased him, this constant need to defeat her? Ever since that kiss on the rofftop it was like something inside him snapped, she occupied his every thought, consumed him even in his dreams. He didn’t know who he was anymore and it was all her fault.

When Arnold is dared to write a fake love note to Helga, things get a bit hectic. More like a lot hectic. Can he stop things from going further than he expected?

Fate, in the form of Arnold, collapses onto a twenty-five year old Helga G. Pataki’s front step as she runs late for work one fine summer’s day - effectively turning her life upside down and then stomping on it for good measure.

When Helga came home one night after a party, she thought that Arnold was in pain because of the whimpering noises coming from his bedroom. What she discovered when she barged in, left her in complete shock and… fascination?

“You’re bored with her, aren’t you?” the strange girl asked me. I wanted to tell her that Lila was perfect for me. I had fought for her attention for years and now she was finally my girlfriend, but it felt like I was still trying to win her heart. Something was missing and that something could be this excitement I felt whenever I looked in the blue eyes of this strange girl.

“I told you I was trouble with my bad behavior.” he said to me as he pushed me up against the wall, claiming my lips in a breathtaking kiss. I, Helga G. Pataki, has officially fallen for a bad boy, something I thought I was too smart to ever do. He is sugar-coated misery, a devil in disguise and a snake with green eyes. I guess it’s karma… I have bad behavior too.

Arnold and Helga are set up on a blind date by their best friends in an attempt to get them out of their depression. After not speaking to each other for nearly two years, old wounds are reopened and secrets are revealed on a night neither will forget.

Gerald never understood the appeal of Helga until age 19. He should have felt bad for sleeping with his ex’s best friend/best friend’s ex-girlfriend, but he didn’t. He always knew he’d never be her happy ending, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

After FTi Helga confesses her love to Arnold, who sadly doesn’t feel the same way. Now Arnold is running Hillwood High’s newspaper, and dating Lila. As an act of revenge, Helga becomes the mysterious advice columnist ‘Geraldine.’

“Have you ever watched someone die? It’s awful I have watched her die so many times if I do one more time I won’t survive” Arnold is stuck in the same day and no matter what he does it keeps repeating. Can he make it stop? Can he change the future?

In which Helga G. Pataki gets stuck in an elevator with the last person she ever wanted to be in close quarters with. Her life, ladies and gentlemen.

Spanish 2 with Arnold was fun until a class presentation changes everything. When he leaves to chase his dreams & find his parents in the middle of the San Lorenzo jungle, it’s Helga who is left behind with the secret she was never able to tell. But will a surprising video call from Arnold months later change her life forever?

She gave up her boots, her closet, her childhood, and ultimately, her heart – so, it only made sense that she should be the one to give this up, too. Never underestimate a woman in love.

the best night of both of their lives become the most tragic and ironic as Arnold pops the big question but after getting hit by a drunk driver he forgets his love for Helga. He remembers how much he hated Helga and how much Helga hated him. Will Helga have to start from square one or will his memory come back? would she have to give up the only thing she cares about most?

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. But Helga can’t cook. Or can she? Take one cup comedy, add a spoonful of drama, and a dash of romance. Then overheat like Helga’s imagination!

Helga and Arnold are reunited at Phoebe and Gerald’s wedding, and neither of them are talking about what happened between them. But what did happen?

The Gang’s older, and Arnie’s back, but he’s not the same geek he was 8 years ago. Can Arnold contain his jealousy when Arnie turns his attentions to Helga?

“I’ve never felt sorry for you, Helga. And no one ever should.” Helga’s life has never been easy, but at the peak of her high school completion, she suddenly finds herself homeless and with less friends than fingers. Can she save herself and make her dreams come true?

“For her, it marked the day she lost her inspiration and stopped writing. Her entire worldview and every dream she ever had were on a plane the next day.”

What the heck are Arnold and Helga doing on top of a building AGAIN?

A chance encounter at a record store? Some things never change.

Helga takes Arnold on a road trip neither will soon forget. Sequel to The Turntables.

A smile came to his face, and he said nothing, just continued to admire her, how beautiful and soft she was, in the afterglow of pleasure. “I guess studying on more important things was worth it, huh?”

After Helga witnesses her fiancé killing someone she goes to police and discovers just how little she knew about him. He is connected to the biggest crime ring in the East Coast. After giving her statement she learns she must go under police protection and is shocked when she finds out the FBI agent assigned to protect her is her old crush, Arnold Shortman.

Helga takes in Arnold after he’s had a few too many drinks.

When Helga sees Bob slap Miriam late one night, she runs away and finds herself on Arnold’s doorstep. Her emotions are running too high to keep under wraps, and Arnold begins to see another side of Helga that he never thought existed.

Helga snaps after she sees various things in her life go wrong, grades, family, friends, and her love. She sees the only way out after one night. Will someone save her before it was too late?

Because their sexual tension could only remain unresolved for so long; something was always bound to happen.

The first time I saw her, she was naked. The first time I met her, she recognized me. The first time she kissed me was the first time I was kissed at all. This girl would change my summer and I knew it from the moment my eyes met hers. There exists many bad ways of meeting the girl of your dreams, but the way I met Helga Geraldine Pataki takes the cake.

After years of confusion and hiding her feelings from Arnold, Helga has finally become the object of Arnold’s affections. The catch? Nobody knows, and they intend to keep it that way- at least for now. But will an unexpected school group project prove to be their secret’s undoing?

Arnold gets amnesia after getting hit on the head. He mistakes Helga as his girlfriend, but after two days does Arnold really have amnesia or is it a trick of the mind?

I spent more than five years trying to forget the greatest heartbreak of my life. I grew up, moved in with Olga, and tried to figure out what I was going to do with my life. So of all the coffee shops in the city, why did he have to come to mine?

Many have different perspectives on how life is defined. Some would say lovely, complicated, treacherous, passionate even. But whether the thoughts be pleasant, cherishing its value, or bitter enduring its harsh realities, from my experience I’ve found this fact to be true…that life is short. So my story begins…

Since Arnold had stayed in San Lorenzo six years ago, sixteen-year-old Helga always sleep walked to the boarding house and slept in his bed, hoping she’d wake up next to him. She didn’t expect one morning to actually wake up to her very beloved next to her.

You can grow up, you can move on, you can even move away and start over, but somehow the things you left in the past have a way of catching up with you…

Arnold volunteers to Stage Manager the school play “My Fair Lady” in order to get an extra activity for college apps. However, working under Helga as acting director isn’t the best job one could ask for. But Arnold has an escape - his online IM partner. But when he discovers the blogs owner, adjusting to what he sees against what he reads can be hard. Which version to believe?

Arnold, now 17, has always been left wondering who Cecile was. So when an odd girl who knows who Cecile is moves into the Sunset Arms, Arnold might finally get some answers. At least, as long as his new found feelings for Helga don’t get in the way.

After receiving news that her grandpa Robert has died, Helga learns that he left her his house in Hilwood. She moves back only to find that her repressed memories are waiting for her

Arnold was never sure what it was exactly that made him fall for Helga. As he retraced every possible memory of her, he couldn’t choose only one reason.

Helga and Arnold are stuck in Anatomy class discussing sex ed. Things get awkward when the instructor makes everyone put condoms on bananas and the class gets a little rowdy. Time for confession perhaps, Helga?

Everyone is dying their hair lately and getting a lot of attention for it. Should Helga cave and dye her hair too? Will that get the attention she craves from Arnold?

Helga’s much more than the nine year old ‘It Girl’.

He’d sort of already known what was coming, truth be told, when he questioned Helga on the roof of FTi. But then again, he hadn’t really known at all. Some puzzles are too preposterous to solve on ones own.

What maybe happened after Helga ran off into the sunset after her confession? And more importantly what the heck happened to TJM?

Arnold reacts out of character as he feels the need to defend the girl he cares for the most. It’s rated T for violence and adult content.

Being dense is hard work.

Arnold reflects his feelings about what had happened on the fated day upon the FTi rooftop. After some pretty good advice, and taking the time to think it all over, he decides to get it all out and have a good talk with Helga about it.

“I don’t think I’m that good of a liar.” “I think you are.” “Well, I did convince you I wasn’t in love with you for nine years…”

In the aftermath of her dramatic confession, Helga begins to withdraw.

Based on the adorable Disney & Pixar movie WALL-E, follow along with our hero, the lovable and curious Arnold as he goes from his life as a trash collector, to find out what he is truly meant for upon meeting the beautiful search scout Helga.

“You’ve been in love with me since we were three and treated me like shit ever since. I let you because I knew deep down you didn’t mean it.” When the confrontation comes it is not planned and what occurs is a surprise to all.

July 27 2017: 


Five years after Helga G. Pataki vanished, presumably murdered, her ghost pops up in Arnold’s house to take care of some unfinished business.

Arnold had always had a strange ability- the ability to hear Helga, even if she wasn’t around. Years later, he can still hear her, but now it haunts him. If she is dead, how can he still hear her?

I never thought life without Olga would cause so many problems for me. After all, out of everybody I knew, I was probably the only one with just cause enough to want her gone. But now that she was, everything was up in the air, including my relationship with Arnold. Could a view from Mighty Pete shed light on what I’d lost? Or help me lose Arnold forever?

Helga is a slam poet. Arnold is a musician. What happens when the two collide?

Being in love for the first time is never easy, but to Arnold, it’s downright torment. Not only has he been in love with her his whole life, not only is she his best friend; she hates and distrusts men with her entire being. He is the only exception, but how much of an exception is he really? Can he win over the girl whose heart has turned to stone by the men in her life?

After ten long years in San Lorenzo, Arnold suddenly returns to Hillwood, throwing Helga’s world into chaos irreversibly. Gerald and Phoebe start acting suspicious about his return; what secrets does he bring with him, and what does it mean for Helga? Can she get him to stay? Does she want him to stay? And how does Lila, mysteriously absent for years, factor into his return?

The hottest thing on television is a teen drama called "Ever After”. It’s fresh, it’s raw, and it’s popular in the Shortman household. The problem is, the story might be a little less fiction and a little more family history.

The episode is called “Homecoming” It’s a story that needed to be told. The second in the “Ever After” Series.

A Hey Arnold fan fiction with the kids in 5th grade and beyond. The lead up to the events in The Jungle Movie and what is my version of the Jungle Movie and what happens after.

A journey of selfdiscovery for Helga as she discovers who she is, with a little help from a certain Football Headed young boy.

After waking up in the hospital, a 26 year old Helga lands herself in rehab for drug and alcohol abuse. Bob wants her cleaned up but while she’s there, Gerald begins to dig into the past and brings out a skeleton in her closet that has haunted them both. And what exactly does all of this have to do with Arnold anyway?

“So… Arnold had cheated on his girlfriend. My man Arnold. Cheated. On his girlfriend. But it was the way that he said it that really interested me: he just said it. It was a statement to him, not a confession, or a heart-wrenching admission of guilt. He said it the same way he’d tell me he was out of sugar.”

Collection of events that eventually culminates in an understanding. And boy, does it take forever.

Just a quickie, a little bit more than a drabble but much less than a story. Hope you like it. 

Why Lila only likes Arnold and doesn’t like-like him. 

Helga Pataki- 26, now settled in almost every sense of the word: a steady job, a kid and a house- kind of, really doesn’t think she qualifies as certifiably crazy anymore. That is- until she kidnaps Arnold Shortman’s children. By accident. Sort of. 

Arnold left. Arnold came back. Arnold didn’t change at all. Everything else did. Helga hadn’t physically hit someone in years, but God, did she want to punch him in the face. 

Trouble always seemed to find Arnold, especially if that trouble was Helga Pataki. After a fierce mud fight at a school trip, Arnold was forced to head back to shower. Helga was also left behind in order to change so when the rusty pipes gave out and left Arnold blind with his own shampoo who else could save him than the girl who had put him in this predicament to begin with? 

Acting had in many ways been one of Helga’s many skills. Arnold hadn’t expected her to give a shot at a career in it though thereby leaving Hillwood to study abroad just when he had started to grow feelings for her. That smidge of love has turned into bitter resentment, so when the play Helga is cast in as the heroine is falling apart, can Arnold ignore the past pain and save it? 

“-My leg is killing me!” She howled, “Crimeny it hurts!” At that, the young man paused and squinted very closely at his victim. “H-Helga?” He asked. Helga pried her eyes open and stared at him with a furrowed scowl, “Football head!” She barked. Of course! Who else would bowl her over but Arnold Shortman! Arnold freakin’ Shortman.  

  • The Elevator by American HOT Fender

It certainly wasn’t how Helga Shortman had planned to spend her day. Trapped in an 8x7 space with her soon to be ex-husband. 1 elevator, 2 people, 6 hours. Will they kill each other or rekindle their love? 

As Arnold begins his biggest adventure - growing up - he finds that the things he used to find easy and simple become more and more complicated and the people he used to have certain slots for in life… well, maybe they just don’t fit in easily definable boxes the way he always thought. It’s hard to tell if the world is getting bigger, or if he’s just feeling, hearing and seeing more of it than before. 

Puberty takes a physical and hormonal toll on our favorite Hillwood hero while he tries desperately to take control of his life, afraid that he is not the one holding the reigns.

Shakespeare’s original version of Romeo and Juliet has FIVE kisses? Helga’s totally getting gypped! …Or is she? “School Play” inspired two-shot.

i am literally livid right now.

so here’s what happened:

i work in a cafe/bake shop popular up in canada and a bit of northern united states. a couple weeks ago, a guy comes in and i’m the only one up front - my other storefront worker is on break and the baker is out back doing prep for the next day. dude orders whatever, a couple coffees and a couple donuts and an iced capp. i repeat, an iced CAPP.

so i make his order. he gets pissy when i hand it to him because he “asked for an iced COFFEE, not an iced CAPP”

so i’m like okay no problem, happens all the time. i make the iced coffee and bring it over to him, and offer to let him keep the iced capp as well if he wants. he says no, and then asks me if there’s a price difference.

i say that there is, of just under a dollar. i ask if he wants me to refund him the 90 cents or whatever it was. he says no, he doesn’t want it. and then asks for my manager.

i’m a bit taken aback, but i keep my polite customer-service voice and tell him that unfortunately, our manager isn’t in at the moment. he asks what her name is, i tell him. he asks for our phone number and i say “i’m sorry, sir, i don’t know it off the top of my head, but i can find it in the back for you if you want? or you can find it online if that’s easier” and he gets all huffy and says “yeah, okay, thanks” and walks out.

skip to today. this past week, i’ve had 0 hours on the schedule. i wasn’t about to complain - the past few months i’ve worked 25-30 hours every week and i’m still in school, and i just started a new semester so a break from work was welcome.

so i finish school today and go in to talk to one of my coworkers who i’m planning on going for dinner with sometime, and my manager pulls me aside.

“we have an ongoing situation” she says. “and i can’t put you on the schedule until it blows over”

i’m, again, rather taken aback. i ask what it is. turns out this asshole who i literally tried my best to help and did everything i was taught to do to fix the little mistake called in and complained about me, saying that i was rude and that i refused to give him the phone number for the store. to my owner.

my owner is not the greatest guy. he’s stingy and rude and always cuts us off whenever we try and answer a question he asks us. on top of that, he hasn’t worked a single shift in 20-something years and is constantly either trying to help or tell us what to do. like, honestly dude, it would be so much fucking easier if you would get the fuck out of the way. he honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing. no one likes him, not even the manager.

so, because of this one complaint, my owner wants to fire me.

because of one fucking complaint.

all of a sudden all the shit i’ve done for that godforsaken place over nearly two fucking years is just down the drain. all the times i’ve covered his ass and worked way more than i should have been because we’ve been short-staffed just doesn’t mean anything after one goddamn complaint.

i was mad.

my manager gets another worker over and has me explain what happened so she can fight for me as best she can and by the time i’m done she says “i don’t know if i’ll be able to save your job. but i’m going to try”

i’m one of her senior-most and favourite workers and i’ve been the main night supervisor for nearly half a year. and as she’s telling me this, both her and my coworker are nearly in tears. we’re a big family, at my work. we look out for each other and we cover each other in any way we can. honestly, the coworkers were the only good thing that came out of my job. and now it’s fucking ruined because of one asshole customer and a dumbass owner.

i’m not even that mad about the being fired part - i’m absolutely fucking livid that all i’ve done for my owner means nothing to him all of a sudden.

another coworker told me i should go to the labour board, that he can’t fire me for that and i should fight it. and i know all that, but like. i was gonna quit soon anyway. partially because i’m sick of being treated like shit by my owner but also because i’m moving in the summer anyway.

it just makes me so mad that he thinks of me as being so disposable when i’ve gotten that store through so many more shifts than he ever has or ever will.

and all the other people who have had complaints - one baker in particular doesn’t even fucking know how to do her job - get off scot-free. all of the other workers who don’t know what they’re doing or look to me for guidance even though they’ve been there longer than me aren’t in any kind of trouble. the rude bitches on morning staff get away with being nasty to customers on a daily basis. one person has even been written up for not doing her job and i’m just straight-up getting fired.

my owner and i have never seen eye to eye but i’ve always done the best job i could and that is literally no reason to fire me. if i had to guess, i’d say he’s been looking for an excuse to get rid of me for a while.

just. ugh.


Matt Murdock is sore and bruised from last night’s rumble. His office door opens. He could hear the sound of heels from the stairs and from the rhythm he can make out a determined, no-nonsense, confident and very professional woman. The smell of some branded perfume hits his nose. Definitely not a client. He assumes she is from that fancy law firm Foggy is now a partner of. He requests her to sit down. She does. 

“Good morning, Mr Murdock. My name is Maria Hill. I’m the director of SHIELD. We have been keeping tabs on you for some time. I’m here to talk to you about the Defenders Initiative.”

After that Kilgrave fiasco, Jessica Jones is taking some time off from her P.I. job, that is, she’s not seeing any clients at the moment. The “some time” has turned into a few months. She takes a swig from the near-empty whisky bottle by her bed and is more than a little irritated when she sees a woman sitting in her office. 

“You seriously need to fix your door. I helped myself in. Anybody else would’ve helped themselves to whatever they could find here.”

Jessica looks at her. The woman- girl, actually- is Asian-looking, about 25. Why might she come to her for?

“Let me guess. Asshole boyfriend?”

“Once upon a time. But that’s not what I’m here for. My name is Daisy Johnson. I’m with SHIELD. I’m here to talk to you about the Defenders Initiative. We’d like to use that strength of yours for some very good purpose.”

“Get out,” Jessica hisses after staring at her silently for a moment.

Daisy hovers her hand above her table. The whole room starts shaking. She stops her demonstration a second later.

“You thought you and your tavern-keeper boyfriend were the only people with tricks?”

Luke Cage is about to close his new bar for the day. The middle-aged man have left just now. The last customer left is a tall woman with long, straight, blonde hair. She had been sitting there long, but had only one glass of brandy. He puts a pint of beer in front of her.

“On the house, sweetheart. Last drink. We’re about to close.”

She thanks him and takes a sip. He stands there, watching her. Suddenly she takes out a badge from her pocket and shows it to him. Luke puts down the glass he has just finished wiping.

“Thought they were finished after DC.”

“We are very much active, but working in the shadows. Much like you, your girlfriend and some other neighbours of yours in Hell’s Kitchen. Except that we don’t have unbreakable skin.”

Luke stiffens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am Sharon Carter. I’d like to talk to you about the Defenders Initiative, if you have a moment.”

After regaining his fortune from the Meachums, Danny Rand walks into his penthouse and turns on the lights. He enters his study. There is someone sitting on the swivel chair. The guy turns to face him very much like the villain in a spy movie. He is a middle-aged man with receding hairline and a face like an accountant. His face suddenly gives way to a goofy look.

“Sorry. Nobody was here and the position looked really great. Couldn’t resist this grand entrance.” Then looking at Danny’s inquiring look, he stands up and puts down a file on the table. The file bore the words “The Defenders” in bold letters and right under it, a seal said “CLASSIFIED.”

“My name is Philip Coulson. I’m here to talk to you about this.”


Better Days ; MYG

Originally posted by yoongles

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Suga x reader

A/N This is for our, Min Yoongi, who is turning 25 years old today. //CRIES. To a very hardworking, determined, lovable, man, I wish you all the best for the future. And that you have a great birthday and for all those that are yet to come. Take care~ AND thank you to @mindfullofcrazy for helping me revise and edit this!! 

He had a bad day.

He had no idea whether Bang P.D nim would approve the lyrics of his mixtape, despite having to work on it a few months past the said deadline. He felt so sleep deprived, despite the rest he had tried to cram in between schedules. The lack of time off from preparing for BTS’ upcoming comeback and him personally working on his mixtape had really taken a toll on him.

His day had been one of those during which there seemed to be no real pause, even over meals. Even once the photo shoot had ended, he still had dance practice when he got back to the Big Hit building. Even though he loved his job, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d stop to take a breather and relax a little bit.

He barely got to see you these past months because of your job promotion and his overwhelming schedule as an idol. And to top it all off, BTS had a world tour coming up. Making things more hectic. With all the traveling, he would be even more tired due to the jet lag and performing for hours for nights on end.

Practice was finally over, after seeming to drag on for hours, he decided to go to your shared apartment in hopes of finding you there to welcome him with open arms. Walking along the street and entering the hallways of the apartment building, he felt the tension in his step. Even the silence of the night wasn’t enough to appease him. Once he reached the door, he was struck dumbfounded when he couldn’t find his key. Usually this was something that would happen to you, but certainly not him.  He tried looking in his duffle bag, hoping that he dropped it in there by accident, but to his dismay, it wasn’t there.

He was going to give up and go back to the dorms, not wanting to add stress to the amount he was already feeling. Turning his heel, he let out a frustrated sigh, just when he heard the door open. You stepped out, a confused look on your face, until you saw him. He felt something in his chest soar as he saw your face, and  the bright smile that painted it.

“Yoongi, wh-,” you began, but he wasn’t going to let you finish your thought.

Yoongi surged forward, letting go of everything that was worrying him at the moment, and pulled you into a tight embrace. He pulled back to lace his fingers into your hair pulling you into an urgent, needy kiss, feeling all of his pent up fatigue and stress fade away instantly. The sound of another door opening brought him back down to Earth and he pulled away, his eyes wide with the realization of how he’d imposed himself on you. The crimson that had crept to your cheeks through the kiss had made him blush too, as he realized the two of you had never kissed like that before.

“You have no idea how much I need to be with you right now, love,” he admitted with an embarrassed laugh as he brought his hand to the back of his own neck. He was so caught up in the need to hold you that he hadn’t really thought about what he was doing.

“Then I’m all yours,” you replied with a coy smile, your heart still giddy from Yoongi’s kiss.

He breathed a sigh of relief, because something in your eyes let him know that everything was going to be okay, that the worst of the day was over. In that moment, he could have sworn that better days would have yet to come.

hey ,    friends .     i  am     ——    in  a  really ,    really  tough  spot  right  now .   i  just  found  out  that  i’m  over  $100  in  debt  for  .  .  .  literally  no  reason .    my  bank  is  an  asshole ,   essentially ,    and  decided  to  bombard  me  with  several  payments  at  once .    payments  i  wasn’t  even  aware  existed .

i  can’t  afford  this .    not  in  the  slightest .     i  currently  don’t  have  a  job  since  i’m  moving  countries  in  one  week ,     and  i  don’t  have  anything  but  a  student  visa ,    which  means  i  can’t  get  a  job  there .     my  girlfriend ,    annie ,    has  literally  been  the  sole  provider  for  us  both  for  the  past  month ,    and  will  continue  to  be  for  the  next  year  while  i’m  abroad  with  her ,    so  money  is  already  tight  for  us .     i  also  don’t  really  have  anyone  else  to  turn  to ,    since  my  family  disowned  me  after  i  came  out  a  year  ago .

if  you  would  consider  maybe  sending  even  a  few  dollars  to  my  paypal     (    saglov02@louisville.edu  ) ,    it  would  be  so  fucking  appreciated .     the  bank  is  now  charging  me  an  overdraw  fee ,    since  i’m  officially  in  the  negatives ,     and  it  will  cost  $25  a  week  if  i  don’t  get  back  to  an  even  $0 .     i’ll  do  commissions ,    anything .    just    ——    help .    please .

even  if  you  can’t  send  anything ,     a  quick  reblog  would  do  wonders .    i’m  just  ——    in  hysterics  rn .    i  have  absolutely  no  idea  what  to  do  .    

anonymous asked:

I'm 22...... I feel like a granny

No you’re not haha, you’re still bts’s age

Anon 2:  No baby, you’re not the oldest because i have 20 lol

Not very far from me tho haha

Anon 3: 22;;;;;

(To anon 1) See, you’re not a granny!

Anon 4: Fear not, I’m 20 ((I may be the oldest one so far)) 

NOPE haha

Anon 5:  really?? you’re the oldest you’ve met?? it seems like some of the most common ages of armies on tumblr are like 19 or 20 (:

Haha no I’m not the oldest that I’ve met, but every person that answered were younger than me ^^ tho I’ve mostly met ARMYs that are like 16?

Anon 6: I’m kind of embarrassed to reveal my age around blogs about BTS because most of them are like 17 and here I am, turning fifteen around September.

Don’t worry! There’s a lot of people even younger than you here! Please don’t be embarrassed :)

Anon 7:  I’m 25! For a few months more, at least 😬

Yay! It makes me happy to see someone here in the mid twenties  ^^

Guys! I’m so sorry I can’t answer any more asks regarding this and I’m sorry that I didn’t answer everyone! Please reply to the post instead ^^


Summary : It was just a typical mission. Fight HYDRA, get intel and get out. What they didn’t expect was for Tony to know the girl in the cyro chamber. AU.

Warnings : Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of abuse and torture. Tiny (extremely) amount of fluff.

Requests : Yes!

Author : Ash

A/N : I couldn’t just make this a one-shot. So there will definitely be more!

Master List

Prompt List

Originally posted by marveldcuniv3rse

“Tony! Get your ass over here!” Captain America yelled into his com device. We were so close to the prize. “Cap, Language! You’re clear!” I yelled back as I took out the five guys in the Humvee closing in on Cap. I noticed his mock salute as I flew off to make sure the other members we’re clear.

“Vision, Wanda, Clint and Natasha status check!” I said as I flew over taking out flying targets as I tried to survey what was happening below. “Damnit, guys answer. I need to know if I’m clear to enter. We only have a few more minutes.” I said as I took out the last chopper making my way to HYDRA’s tower.

“Tony, just go. We’ve got it. Sam and Cap are on their way to the tower. We’ll handle things down here.” Wanda said as I watched her down below. Her hands started to roll and I knew she was about to make sure the coast was clear. Atta girl.

I landed in the tower and was greeted by Sam and Cap. “Glad you could join us” Sam grumbled as he just huffed before busting through the locked door with his foot. We were expecting to see James Buchanan Barnes A.K.A Bucky when we stormed through the door. What we weren’t expecting was the female in the second cyro chamber.

“Who is she?” I asked Cap and Clint looking at the chamber as if to find some name or some type of identification. Her face looked almost familiar. Did I know her somehow? Why did she seem to remind me so much of my mother? I started to raid the tables near the chambers looking for any files I could find.

“Cap! Tony! We gotta hurry, we’ve got company heading our way” Sam said as he started to command RedWing to take out the inclosing enemy. Cap had started to turn off the devices and start the process of waking up our new and old friends. I was going to help when suddenly a name popped up from the top of a file, Subject : 851 (Y/N) Stark.

“No, a Stark?!” I screamed as I walked back to the chamber. It hit me and all made sense. My sister, my baby sister. I rushed over to the chamber. Determined to get her and Bucky out. I pointed my arms at the chambers. My lasers blowing through the glass. “Tony, we can’t just” I looked over at Cap.

“I’ll deal with the consequences later, it’s my sister Rogers. Grab Bucky and let’s get out of here. Guys, quinjet now.” I yelled into my com device, to Sam and to Cap. Thankfully, Natasha was already at the top of the tower waiting on us. “I owe you Romanoff.” I said as I flew inside. I walked over to life stations we had on the quinjet and immediately laid down (Y/N). How do she end up in cyro with Winter Soldier?

*** Eight Hours Later ***

It had been eight hours since we made it back to the tower. I was reading over my sister’s file trying to make sense of what had happened to her. She hadn’t woken yet. I knew just yanking her and Barnes out of cyro was a huge risk, but I needed to get her out. I threw the file on the ground muttering obscenities putting my fists in my hair. I turned around when I heard two knocks at the door.

“Oh, Rogers and Romanoff. What do you want?” I said turning back to my computer trying to find out anything I could about the night my sister disappeared. I heard them both take a deep breath before they spoke.

“How are you holding up? Have you found out anything else?” Rogers asked as he came over grabbing the file and skimming it over. Romanoff walked over silently nudging me out of the way of the computer.

“No, nothing. The file doesn’t say much. Just that they’ve had her since ‘91. The night my parents died, the night she vanished. “ Rogers looked at Romanoff both of them sharing a knowing glance. As if, they had some information to share but didn’t want to share. “If you guys have something to enlighten me with, I’d love to hear it.” I said scoffing at them.

“There were rumors.” Natasha started to say. She pulled out a covert KGB file. Natasha always kept her old KGB files and they also had some form of intel to help. Ironic, the KGB being helpful. “Supposedly, HYDRA was training a female winter soldier. But she was everything the Winter Soldier wished he could be.” I looked at the pictures and read over random notes written in Russian. Nothing made sense to me.

“But that doesn’t make sense. (Y/N) was 12 when she was taken. What were they training a 12 year old for? Why take her?” I asked not understanding. “They could’ve had my father that night, taken him instead of killing him. They could’ve gotten him to make or destroy anything they wanted.”

“It wasn’t about your Dad. Your parents got in the way that night and that’s why they were killed. HYDRA wanted the Super Soldier Serum your father helped create. They wanted to make an army full of soldiers like Buchanan.” She said as she typed up a sequence bringing up what looked like old discarded KGB/HYDRA files.

“Your sister was in the car. They thought she’d make the perfect test subject. Daughter of renowned world scientist, she was young. She..” before Natasha could spit out her words I grabbed her by the throat. “YOU KNEW THIS ALL ALONG?!” I spat out feeling my fingers tighten. I felt Cap hand trying to pull me off.

“Damnit Tony, let go!” Cap said as he tried to jerk my hand off her throat. He wasn’t succeeding until I felt a jab under my right rib and I automatically flinched dropping Natasha. “She didn’t know. She didn’t put it together until today.” Cap said as he looked her over. Fingerprints were appearing around her throat.

“I didn’t know who she was, just the rumors. KGB never got close to figuring out anything more about her. She was more of a ghost then the Winter Soldier. She was credited with over 400 assassinations and over 85 bombings. “ Natasha rubber her throat to soothe the soreness and make it easier to talk.

Natasha went back to typing on the computer bringing up different articles. “Phantom Shadow, that’s what they called her.” Natasha said stepping back letting me rake in as much information as I could.

I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t figure out how to feel. Part of me was glad to know she was alive. Part of me was unsure how to deal with knowing my sister could possibly be an assassin. I started to blame myself.

“You know my parents asked me to watch her that night. I was angry with my dad for being, well Howard. I told him I had better things to do.” I felt a knot creeping in my throat. “That was the last time I saw her. I was 19. If only she had stayed home..” I caught myself before I continued on. I turned around to face Cap and Nat.

“I’m sorry about your throat…” Natasha just blew it off and hugged me. “She’s family, I get it Tony.” Natasha just looked me over before giving me a small kiss on the cheek. “

“Why don’t you go see her?” Cap suggested. He grabbed my shoulder squeezing tightly. Damn Rogers, he still acted like a father figure. I just nodded my head as I headed to the hospital.

I walked to her room and went inside. I placed my hand on her chamber. She wasn’t the doe-eyed ponytail wearing little girl I remember from all those years ago. She wasn’t the girl who begged to hang out with me when I’d come home and visit from college. She was older. She’d seen and committed awful things. Was my baby sister still in there?

I leaned down and whispered to her “I’ll be here when you wake up (Y/N). I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m going to make sure you know who you are.”

“She remembered you. She talked about you all the time. When she was first taken before they started to beat her and wipe her memory.” I hung my head down as I turned around. Buchanan standing in the doorway. “She’s a fighter and a damn good one.” He walked in rolling his IV alongside him as he sat in a chair across from her chamber.

“How are you awake? And..” before I could finish my question he cut me off. “I was under as long as (Y/N). I had only recently been put back under a few months ago. She’s been under for at least 10 years now. Around when she was 25. The brainwashing had stopped working. The serum was beginning to have adverse effects.” He finished out placing his hand on her chamber.

“What kind of effects?” I asked eyeing him. My eyes flickering between my sister’s chamber, her machines and the way Buchanan seemed to act towards her. “She was becoming even more stronger, even more faster, she wouldn’t take orders anymore. She had started to remember who she was.” He withdrew his hand as he let out a deep sigh.

I wanted to say more … ask more. Before I could even piece my words together (Y/N) machines started to beep. She was flat lining. I was loosing my sister once again. “Come on (Y/N). Stay with me.”

Originally posted by cinziadowney

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Marvel :

@beccanne814 @crownie-sr


Almost one year ago, my life took a turn. September 20, 2016, I was terminated from my job; one that I enjoyed, gained great experience from and created lasting friendships. I was called, on my day off, and terminated. I’d call my then boyfriend, crying hysterically, distraught and disappointed & he cut our conversation short, demanding that I hang up the phone, dry my tears and that he’d call back in five minutes to remind me of a few things.

See, I was also running a business. One that demanded much of my time and energy because I’d built it entirely on my own. In the months leading up to the dreadful moment that I’d received the phone call from my then Employer, I’d also been faithfully focusing my time on designing, creating, planning, executing, networking, traveling for shows and pop-ups and hosting events to meet fellow Girl Bosses all while maintaining treacherous hours at my day job. Business had been picking up for the past 6 months or so before that call and many nights I’d feel overwhelmed, sitting at the sewing machine with a cup of tea on one side and wine on the other. I knew every minute would be worth it though and I knew somehow it would all come together.

Exactly 5 minutes goes by, my phone rings, I’m forcing myself to shut my crying up, and I mean nasty, hiccup crying! I quickly dry my face full of tears. It was once I answered that I was instantly asked “How many unshipped orders do you have in your queue right now, Cierra?” he said. I reply, “98.”

“And you’re crying about getting what you’ve needed all along!? 98 orders?! Get to work. You now have more time to focus on what it is you love and you will be just fine with doing just that!”

I saw things from a different perspective, and for that, I was thankful! I prayed and I was almost ashamed of myself for allowing my faith to almost disappear at the instant of being told ‘No.’ Because although my job had told me no, I knew that my purpose was greater than that, that it was just a stepping stone to get me to where I truly wanted to be. I’d sat down, written out my plans & goals for the upcoming months (because seriously, writing them down is so damn helpful!) and slowly began to readjust. Only a few days have gone by and I feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted, I’m feeling more levelheaded and knocking out daily tasks left and right because, well, now I’ve got the time! Discouragement turned into encouragement and my faith adjusted in a way that I truly needed it to simply because I’d altered my mindset to see, what I thought was a negative, into a positive!

Five days had gone by, it’s now September 25, 2016, and my relationship ended. In a way I never imagined. All-in-all, the reason ultimately meant being apart would be easier than being together, despite how we felt about one another, what was best and also more important was being able to fulfill the purpose we each wanted to pursue, which ended up being in two totally different physical places. This was a new mindset I was forced to learn, and although at that very moment and for months to come I was dreadfully heartbroken, it taught me that choosing yourself, especially in the pursuit of learning and fulfilling your purpose, is what’s most important. A new perspective was gained, and for me, it meant that I truly have to give whatever I aspire to be my entire self if I truly wanted it as bad as I said and claimed I did because I was watching it happen right before my eyes.

It would be oftentimes that I’d realize I’d challenge myself to be perfect and to have it completely together, ALL OF THE TIME. That mindset wasn’t realistic and also is literally never, ever the case, ESPECIALLY as an Entrepreneur. I continued to move forward as if nothing had happened, as if I didn’t lose love or a job, because I knew that your goals don’t care about how you feel! That if you only did work on the days we feel like it, we’d never get anything accomplished. So, I moved as if I still had a business to run, as if I still had to host an upcoming event with 100+ women who were coming to learn, be inspired and take away something from what I was offering to them that would encourage them to move forward with their aspirations and new endeavors as well, but I didn’t tell this story because I was afraid, embarrassed a little maybe and I also felt as if it wasn’t the right time. However, no time will ever be the perfect time to fully face head-on the things that frighten us most. We just have to do it!

In the past year, I have learned life changing lessons, I’ve accepted things for what they are, I have grown in ways I never knew I could, achieved things I didn’t think would happen when they did and have had setback after setback, but it’s gotten me here! I have so much further to go and I know the importance of being truthful to myself. When things are going great AND not so great. That it’s okay to be a masterpiece and a work in progress all at the same damn time. I say this all to say, embrace your experience and don’t let thoughts and ideas of being ‘perfect’ consume you. Don’t think that you’re ever in anything alone. I know that it’s easier said than done, but had I embraced the idea of actually expressing and talking about all the things I juggled while simultaneously running a company, I probably would have learned that I’m not alone and could have ultimately lightened my emotional load! Find comfort in embracing your journey. We all have different ones, different stories, and I just hope I will be able to help at least one person by sharing a piece of mine.

- Cierra J

lorcans-bitch  asked:

Tog fake dating for the au thing! Btw I love your blog!

IT’S FINALLY DONE. You didn’t say a specific ship so I hope you’re okay with Rowaelin. And tysm darling, I love your blog too! I hope you like this <3 Fake dating: i) It’s my high school reunion and I need a hot date so I can rub it in the faces of the people who hated me

“Okay,” says Aelin, nails (which are freshly manicured, of course) thrumming against the side of her her laptop. “How about this? ‘Ms. Galathynius regrets to inform the class of '07 that she cannot make it to this year’s class reunion, as she has better shit to do.’" 

"No, that sucks,” Aedion, her cousin, shakes his head from where he’s sitting on the couch. His girlfriend Lysandra, Aelin’s ex nemesis turned best friend, lounges on the other side, her feet in Aedion’s lap, and she makes a sound of agreement at his claim. “That makes it obvious you’re hiding something." 

Aelin glares at him. "I’m not hiding anything.” She shuts the laptop on 'anything’ as if to prove her point and swirls in her chair, knees up to her chest. “High school is a closed chapter of my life that I’d rather not open.” That part is true. At a young age, her parents had been murdered, and she and Aedion had been separated in the foster system. Aedion was lucky enough to stay close to home, but Aelin had been shipped to Rifthold, where her creepy foster dad Arobynn had let her roam free. And roaming free for teenagers sometimes equals multiple overdoses, getting arrested, and starting riots at block parties. 

But that’s not necessarily why she doesn’t want to go. Both Lys and Aedion know she’s been looking forward to this for years, to show how she’s gone from druggie to successful lawyer who, at 28, is already partnered with a law firm in New York City. And she still is damn proud. But also… single. “I don’t want to go alone, okay?”

“Jesus, Ace,” groans Aedion. “You’re in your twenties and can afford a flat-a nice one- in the Big fucking Apple. So what if you don’t have a boyfriend right now?" 

Lysandra winces. "Um… I know this isn’t helpful, but all of Rifthold High will probably care.” Aelin nods and throws her cousin an 'I told you so’ look. 

“Definitely not helpful, Lys.” He sighs. “It won’t help that we’re going to be there, too?” Lysandra was also Rifthold High alumni. She and Aelin-who’d gone by Celaena back then- had hated each other until after graduation, actually, when Lysandra had needed 'professional opinion’ on which lawyer to go to help get her now adoptive sister, Evangeline, out of an abusive home. Aelin had seen the girl’s scars and gone spitting, pointing Lysandra in the direction to the right lawyer and giving them a place to stay. Six years later, Lys was still her roommate, though Aelin wasn’t sure how long that would last. Not after she’d caught Aedion ring shopping. 

“No, it won’t,” she tells them. “I… this is super petty, but both Chaol and Dorian are in relationships.” Dorian had been a fling senior year for a few months. They’d agreed to stay just friends that summer, as he was staying in Rifthold and she was going to get her life together, and they’d done quite a job at that, actually. It was Chaol she was worried about. They’d bumped back into each other when she was 24 and he’d just turned 25, a police officer at NYPD. Of course they just had to hit it off. Really well. They stayed together for two years, migrating Dorian back into her life as well, when he proposed. She said yes, but everything fell to hell not soon after that. Though they’d made up and stayed tentative friends, he’d moved on much more quickly, is already engaged again to one Nesryn Faliq, who Aelin desperately wants to hate but can’t. 

Aedion mutters something that sounds like, 'Yeah, that’s definitely petty,’ but Lysandra shoots into a sitting position. “Oh Gods, I didn’t even think about that. Okay, let’s think. Fenrys?" 

"Dating Asterin Blackbeak,” Aelin tells her.


"Gay, and since I want to set him up with Nox, I can’t pretend he’s straight." 

"Uh… borrow Lorcan from Elide?" 

She laughs at that, hard, and so does Aedion. Elide, her adoptive sister, definitely would let her, but even though she and Lorcan have a tentative truce going, Aelin has no doubt that he’d tell everyone that he’s actually engaged to her little sister at the first chance he got. 

"Yeah,” Lysandra sighs. “I figured.”

“Really, I’ll just go to the 25th annual reunion,” says Aelin, playing with a piece of blonde hair. “Even if I’ll be so much less hot." 

"You have to go!” Her best friend protests. “Nehemia and Nox will be there. And… Aelin, Gods, you have to go for Sam.” Immediately, her heart lurches . Damn it, Lys has her. Sam had been her high school sweetheart sophomore and junior year, until he’d driven drunk, Aelin hopped up on coke in the passenger seat. They’d gone into an intersection without stopping, and, well… only one had come out. 

Aelin curses. “I know.” She also knows that if he had lived, they’d be going there together, possibly married, possibly already with a kid. The idea of bringing another guy suddenly puts a rotten taste in her mouth, but she knows she’s too proud and vain to go alone, even with the thought of Sam looming overhead. 

And then an idea hits her. 

“Holy shit I’ll be right back,” she tells them before she’s out of her chair and sprinting to the door and across the hallway. She bangs impatiently, because honestly, it’s only 7:00 and if he’s asleep he’s a pansy. He isn’t- the door opens, revealing his ridiculously hot and scowling face, and the dyed silver hair that should look dumb but doesn’t at all. 

“Oh,” he sighs. “It’s you." 

Usually, she’d respond with a rebuttal, but there’s already a big chance he’ll say no and sassing him won’t help in any way. She takes in a deep breath and says, "Whitethorn, I need a favor." 

Aelin is already regretting this. 

Not Rowan himself, surprisingly. He’d shown up at her flat in a tux that goes surprisingly well with his face tattoos, contrasting them to just the right amount, and been a perfect gentleman. Aedion’s still a little mopey that there’s another alpha male in his presence, but he’s coming around, and Lysandra had already known him, so it’s no surprise she approves of Aelin’s date choice. No, Rowan has been nothing but courteous and surprisingly funny, and they aren’t even to the reunion yet, so she can’t exactly regret him. 

What she regrets is what she’d agreed to give him in exchange for him accompanying her to the reunion and behaving. 

'I’ll owe you’ she’d told him like an idiot. They’ve just gone from hating each other to disliking each other and also wanting to fuck each other’s brains out, and so when she saw the way his eyes lit up mischievously and he’d immediately agreed to doing this, she’d known she was fucked. 

Oh well. As long as he doesn’t make her favor writing to her entire graduating class, 'Hey, you know that really hot guy I took with me to our reunion? Not my boyfriend! I lied, lmao!’ she’ll be fine. 

"I didn’t say this before,” he murmurs in her ear as they begin the walk up to registration for the reunion. “But you look stunning." 

She’s not sure if she’s blushing or not as she says, "I know. You clean up well too, Buzzard.” Had his lips just twitched into a half smile? 

The registration doesn’t take long, only signing her name to show she was here, as well as clicking an x for 'one guest,’ and as they wait for Lysandra to do the same, Aelin checks her reflection in a nearby glass display case. She’d chosen to wear a dress she’s had for a while but never been able to wear- it’s black and long sleeved, hugging to her body, and on the back of it is a gold dragon that winds up her body, which is evidently her favorite color. Of course she looks magnificent. She’ll never look anything less. 

Lys and Aedion join them-they’re color coordinated, Gods, they’re so cute it’s nauseating- and then it’s the four of them striding towards the old gym doors. Aelin loops her arm through Rowan’s, half expecting him to raise an eyebrow at her, but of course he doesn’t. Of course he knows they’re pretending to date, because duh, it’s implied.

She jumps when she feels his breath against her ear, followed by the low timbre of his voice. “Pretend I just said something funny." 

Aelin laughs softly even as she grits back, "Or you could, you know, actually say something funny. If you’re capable of that." 

"Ouch,” he chuckles softly. “Easy, Galathynius. Remember I’m doing you a favor.” How could she forget? She glances at him, expecting there to be hidden warning in his eyes, but there’s nothing but amusement. And it only makes her feel as though he’s REALLY going to make her regret this later on, even more than she’s been assuming. “I’ve never seen you so nervous before. Or, well, I’ve never seen you nervous at all, actually." 

She’s sure it’s obvious, but she still replies, "High school wasn’t the best of experiences for me." 

She, again, expects him to tease her, or subtly use that information against her, but instead he starts telling her this story from when he and Lorcan used to work together. She had been aware her sister’s fiance had worked with her neighbor, but she hadn’t known they had worked so closely. And she’s so busy listening attentively that she doesn’t notice the few people in the hall that stop, doesn’t hear them murmuring. 'Wow, is that Celaena? Twenty bucks says she relapsed.’ 'Who is that with her? He’s a hunk.’ She hears none of it, because of Rowan. 

They enter the gym, which is filled with tacky lighting, including strobe lights, and a bar that Aelin will not be partaking in, despite everyone else’s beliefs. They’re just moving to the sober people punch when there’s a shout. "Elentiya!” Aelin’s immediately turning, letting go of Rowan’s arm, because there’s Nehemia, looking radiant in gold. She looks older, more mature, but as soon as she smiles Aelin’s pretty sure she’s never been happier to see someone in her entire life, except perhaps when she’d found Aedion again after graduating. 

They embrace, laughter bubbling over. Nehemia will always have a soft place in her heart, will always be her original anchor. Without her, Aelin would probably still be Celaena, and she’d probably be six feet under. Behind her is Nox, who she embraces as well before leading the both of them back to the group. “You’ve both met my cousin Aedion.” Aedion nods, even embraces Nehemia. “This is Rowan Whitethorn. Rowan, these are Nox and Nehemia, two of the only people I actually liked during high school.” And it’s true. 'Celaena’ had known everyone, but liked very few. 

She’s thinking 'okay, NOW he’s definitely going to screw this up.'But again, stupid Whitethorn with his stupid perfect face and stupid manners and stupid intelligence that has even Nehemia impressed, proves her wrong. “I’m going to go get us some punch,” he excuses himself after a few minutes, and maybe her heart skips a beat when he brushes a piece of hair back behind her ear, maybe it doesn’t. 
“Oh my Gods, where did you find him?” Nox exclaims as soon as Rowan and Aedion have strode out of ear shot. “He’s so yummy, Ce-Aelin." 

"I suppose 'yummy’ is one accurate way to describe him,” teases Nehemia. “But really, Elentiya. Where did you meet him?" 

"I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Aelin replies primly.

Both of her friends look to Lysandra, who immediately reports, “He’s our neighbor." 

Aelin glares. "Lys!” Her best friend merely grins like a cat in response. 

“Where is it he’s from?” Nox asks. “Because the accent is sexy and I’ve decided I want one of him." 

Aelin smirks, and almost feels like she’s… bragging when she says, "He’s from Wendlyn, Scotland.”

“Who’s from Scotland?” She knows that voice. 

“Dorian!” She’s smiling as she turns and pulls him into a hug, which he gladly returns, before turning to his date. “Manon." 

Manon dips her head. "Aelin.” They’ve just recently gotten on first name terms, mainly because of the fact that they both love Elide to death and Manon’s around enough to make herself tolerable.

“No, really, who’s from Scotland?” Dorian asks again, and Nox looks so smug she’s half convinced he’s going to sing out, 'Aelin has a boyfriendddd!“ 

He doesn’t get the chance, though. Chaol strolls up, Nesryn on his arm, and Gods, Aelin REALLY wishes she could hate her, simply because of the way she looks in that dress. But she can’t, and in that moment, she doesn’t even feel slightly resentful towards her ex, which she typically does. She smiles in a way that’s not pained, and their hug, for once, is not tense. And Rowan walks back over. 

The night goes smoother than she can imagine, and she should be worried about how well he’s behaving like she was before, but most of the time she’s too busy laughing. She introduces Rowan to her friends, and she can immediately tell Chaol is jealous- but not because of her. No, he’s jealous because Dorian and Rowan are 'bros’ in a solid five minutes. Cain is still a dick, but his remarks roll right off her back, and he only says them until Rowan saunters up with a 'Everything okay, Fireheart?’ -which oh my Gods, she’s pretty sure Fireheart is her new favorite nickname. And Kaltain… Kaltain is better, less of a bitch. Maybe a little empty (Aelin had heard that she’d done meth for a while), but trying. Aelin, of all people, knows what trying to move passed your mistakes looks like. 

And she dances. 'Warning Sign’ by Coldplay comes on, and Rowan literally sings in her ear-except instead of the actual lyrics, he’s singing about what people are doing around them to the melody, and she has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from ugly snorting, her shoulders shaking with the effort. 
Still, even though she stays longer than she expected (she’d expected to stay for thirty minutes tops and they’re bordering on two and a half hours now), she’s ready to go long before Lysandra is. She turns to Rowan. "Want to get out of here?” He raises his eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes. “Not that, you buzzard. There’s a pancake house down the street.” She’d spent many hungover mornings there in her teens. “They have no real food here and I’m starving." 

He doesn’t even have to consider- doesn’t shrug in disinterest like Chaol would have, either. "That sounds great.” She leaves with plans for Nehemia and Nox to come visit soon (and more frequently), and to the sounds of whistling from her friends as she laces her fingers through Rowan’s and they exit the gym. 
Once they’ve made it outside, Rowan glances at her sideways, their hands still laced together. “You made it sound like it was going to be awful there." 

"Well, to be fair, I thought it would be,” she shrugs. There’s an urge to tell him the real reason why it would be awful- because of Sam, but she still barely knows this man. And 'hey, I’m partly responsible for the first love of my life’s death’ is not a light first date-fake, she reminds herself, fake date,- topic. Maybe someday, though. If he doesn’t do a personality 180 and make more bonding like this impossible. 

“Your friends are nice. Did you date the Chaol guy?" 

Ever perceptive Rowan. "Yeah, I did. It, uh, didn’t end well, but we’ve worked through it. Ah, here it is.” They stop in front of the pancake house. “I’m eating french toast until I pass out.” He chuckles-he’s been doing that a lot tonight- and follows her inside. 

They go straight to their seats, and ten years later, the booth she picks is still HER booth. It brings an ache to her heart, but she focuses on the hot guy sitting across from her in the present instead of heartbreaking memories, and they chatter as easily as they have all night. It’s only when she’s (finally) pouring syrup onto her french toast that she says, “I haven’t thanked you for tonight." 

He looks confused. "You have. At least five times." 

"No, I don’t mean the favor,” she shakes her head. “I mean thank you for making it fun. And helping me relax a bit. Also, thanks for scaring the shit out of Cain. I hate that guy." 

His lips curl up in a way that makes him look almost… bashful? "Thank you for inviting me.” Okay, she’s had enough- she can’t wait any longer to know what he damn wants. He’s been nothing but perfect, and NO ONE acts this way without a price. Not for her, anyways. 

“Okay, spit it out,” she sighs, spearing a piece of strawberry with her fork. “What’s your price?”

He blinks. “What?" 

"I told you I’d owe you a favor, and there’s obviously something you want really badly, so what is it? I would really appreciate if it wasn’t gross, but if it is I’ll do it anyways. Because I’m not a wimp." 

His face goes from shocked to amused to- ah, there it is- mischievous. "Okay, you caught me.” She braces herself. “Go on a real date with me." 


"Wh-what?” She stammers.

His confidence sputters for a second before he repeats himself. “Go on a date with me. And no, it doesn’t include this pancake house." 

She’s gaping. "Is this a joke?” His confidence sputters again, and he shakes his head. “I… I thought you hated me." 

He looks actually affronted by the idea. "Maybe at first, but it hasn’t been that way for a long, long time. I’ve just…” Maybe it’s the lighting, but she can swear his cheeks have gone a little red. “I’ve been too much of a coward to ask you." 

"And that’s what you’ve been planning to use your 'favor’ on the entire time?” He blushes harder. Oh my Gods, this is the cutest thing she’s ever seen, and she can’t wait to tell Lysandra, but she forces herself not to blurt out a 'Yeah, when? Right now? I’m game for now.’ Instead, she sighs dramatically. “Oh, I should have never given you that damned favor.” But her voice drips with sarcasm and she’s grinning, and when he does too her heart leaps in her chest. It feels familiar, slightly. It feels long waited. “Text me when, Buzzard. You’ve got yourself a date.”

Has she mentioned how glad she is she went to her high school reunion?

anonymous asked:

do you ship otayuri? if so, do you ahve any headcanons for them?

I do! And I will happily share some of my HCs for them, but let’s get this out of the way first: I recognize that when Otabek and Yuri meet up in Ep. 10 Otabek is 18 and Yuri is 15. However, the age gap is actually 2yrs and 4months (Otabek would have just turned 18 in October - at the beginning of the season - and Yuri will be 16 in March - a few months after the GPF) and that isn’t a problem for me. I get why some people are uncomfortable with the age gap bc a 2yr age gap between teens is a much bigger deal than, say, a 4yr age gap between people in their 20s. When I was in high school, I saw seniors date sophomores and yes, sometimes it was creepy. But I also had two friends who started dating in high school (for context, I’m now 25, high school was a while ago) when one was a senior and the other was a sophomore and they’re now happily married and have a small baby thing. The other couple I knew that started dating in high school with that same age gap is currently engaged. And again, I don’t live in like… some super conservative, everyone gets married to their high school bf/gf place. So. I know there is/was controversy over their age gap and I understand that everyone can have their own feelings about the gap/this ship, so I would appreciate that same understanding for why I don’t have a problem with the age gap and ship OtaYuri. :) 

OK here are my hcs for OtaYuri getting together:

  • Otabek has not been in love with Yuri since the first time he met him. Yuri did not fall in love with Otabek simply because he whisked him away on his motorcycle. But there is a pull between them that isn’t romantic in nature initially. Yuri feels at ease around Otabek, Otabek enjoys Yuri’s presence, and it’s simply comfortable to be around each other, to text each other throughout the day, to low-key miss having the other person around often. 
  • They stay in contact after the GPF. Otabek doesn’t use social media much and he texts like an old man, with perfect grammar and all, but Yuri doesn’t mind. Yuri sends a lot of pictures of his cat, internet memes, random ass things that he finds entertaining and just getting an “Lol.” from Otabek can make him smile. 
  • This level of contact continues on for a while, with them only seeing each other at competitions. But at the GPF a year after they “met,” Otabek and Yuri are practically inseparable. Yuri texts Otabek the second he gets off the plane to ask what he’s up to and Otabek texts him back “Nothing.” So, once Yuri gets checked in to the hotel, he bangs on Otabek’s door, “Get up, we’re going sightseeing. Did you rent a motorcycle again?” 
  • Oh, also, Yuri has started to get taller. His growth spurt is fucking with his skating and he loathes his new height with every fiber of his too-tall being, but he does smirk a little to himself when he realizes he’s about an inch taller than Otabek now. 
  • Yuri doesn’t place that year (Otabek bronze, Victor silver, Yuuri gold) and while he’s pissed about how he does, he’s also genuinely happy for Otabek (and stupid Katsudon too). He tells Otabek this much at the banquet, where they are still basically attached at the hip, because they are best friends, after all. 
  • (And so what if Yuri kind of has a crush on Otabek, it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t even know what way Otabek swings and he’s not going to ask because - as close as they are - they just don’t talk about relationship things or stuff like that). 
  • (It does not help that Victor picks up on the fact that Yuri and Otabek have basically been together during every free second they have during the GPF and gives Yuri that knowing look late into the banquet. It takes all of Yuri’s self-control not to scream obscenities at Victor.)
  • And then Otabek invites him to stay with him in Almaty for the summer and train there with him (Fic rec - if you haven’t read “From Almaty, with Love” you should)
  • This is a problem. Because living with Otabek is so easy and comfortable and there is a distinct possibility that he is falling in love with him. 
  • Nicknames start happening. Beka. Beks. Yura. 
  • The low-key physical distances they always maintained between goes away too. Otabek is still more contained than Yuri, but casual touches happen a lot when they simply didn’t exist between them before. They sit closer to each other than necessary. Otabek - seemingly unthinkingly - starts playing with Yuri’s hair when they’re watching a movie. But whatever this new dynamic between them is, they don’t address it. 
  • Leaving Almaty to go back to Russia is one of the most painful things Yuri has ever done. 
  • And then the real pining starts. 
  • Now, they Skype and Facetime and even occassionally talk over the phone and if Yuri’s chest literally hurts sometimes when they say goodnight that’s fine. 
  • Sometime before the GPF series starts up, Yuuri and Victor decide to go back to Japan to visit everyone. Yuri “begrudgingly” goes a long with them and casually throws it out to Otabek - “if you wants to meet up with us there you can, since you’ve never really seen anything outside of Tokyo and we’re still going to be training at the Hasetsu rink, so you could do that too, if you wants, but no pressure, of course.”
  • Otabek quite likes the hot springs and yuuri’s mom’s katsudon. 
  • Also, watching Yuri interact with everyone - Yuuko, the triplets, even Victor and Yuuri -  and how much Yuri actually loves these people (despite acting like a pissed-off cat constantly) makes him ridiculously happy? He just wants to see Yuri that happy all the time? And that loved? And he wants to be a person in Yuri’s life that is also a source of that love? And sure, Otabek knew he had started to feel things for Yuri when he was in Almaty, but now it just feels very, very real. 
  • One night at dinner, Victor and Yuuri are talking about planning their wedding and Victor asks if Yuri he’ll be one of his groomsmen and Yuri “begrudgingly” says yes and then Otabek starts asking polite questions about the event - what date did they pick? where will they have it? - and Victor just casually says something like “oh, well you’re invited of course. You’ll be Yuri’s date right?” and Yuri nearly chokes on his food. 
  • (How competent are Hasetsu’s police? So what if Victor accidentally dies in the hot springs? They can’t actually prove Yuri did anything, right?)
  • Yuuri had gently diverted the topic away from who Yuri wants to bring as a date after Victor’s comment, but now the invisible elephant in the room may as well be neon pink so. 
  • Yuri decides to take the plunge. 
  • After dinner, he tugs Otabek out for a walk. It’s quiet for a while and then Yuri finally feels something in him break and he’s confessing - Fuck, ok, so. I don’t know how you feel about things and I don’t want to fuck our friendship up, but I really like you. In, like, a gross way that makes me want to spend all my time with you and makes me miss you constantly, basically. So -”
  • Otabek places his hands on Yuri’s face, the action enough to make all the other words he could feel threatening to spill out disappear. Otabek smiles - I like you too. In a way that makes me want to spend all my time with you and miss you constantly, too. 
  • Yuri sighs, heavily - Oh fuck, thank god - and then they’re both leaning in, Yuri wrapping his arms around Otabek while one of Otabek’s leaves his cheek to tuck Yuri’s hair behind his ear. 
  • It’s a first kiss for both of them. 
  • And it’s perfect. 

I liiiiiive for lyrics that reference ages like I take those songs and make each of them the theme song of my life the whole year I’m that age so like my life at fifteen was all about reminding myself that time can heal most anything and nineteen was a mess honestly but at some point I stopped picking up the phone and that saved me and I’ve been so sad about my next theme song not being until I’m freaking 32 buuuuut now I get a theme song in a few months when I turn 25 and anyway not sure what I’ll learn that year but this is an appreciation post for dancing with our hands tied because it literally gives me a reason to live all right end rant

Us Too (A Treadmill Soliloquy)

TW: sexual harassment, sexual assault

I apologize ahead of time because this isn’t going to be a fun post.  So I won’t be telling you how taking my air conditioner out went (not well), how many mental breakdowns I’ve had since turning 25 (roughly 6), and how much pumpkin beer I have consumed (too much).  

A few disclaimers, mostly because I’m nervous about this post, about it being too much, or not being enough.

This post is not a raving support, critique, or analysis of the “me too” hashtag that circulated around the Internet last month. If you don’t know what I’m taking about, read this.

This post is not a history of every damn time I’ve experienced something similar, because women should not be required to present a resume of hurt in order to speak whatever truths they choose to share.

Lastly this post is not an answer to any of the questions it poses. There are no Band-Aids for anything it implies.  It’s not my job to do that and it’s not the job of any victim or survivor.  

This post is about something most women find all too familiar.  It’s one of those things where I knew if I waited too long I might never write it. I spent my run at the gym two nights ago thinking about what happened, over and over, and the more I thought about it the angrier I got. And the angrier I got, the harder I ran, until I turned the treadmill down to a walk and began to write, furiously, on my phone in that stupid little notepad app.  I wrote about this:

Last Wednesday night I drove myself to the ugly green laundromat down the street, frankly, because I was out of underwear and that is a situation that waits for no one. After spending an annoyingly long amount of time there, I loaded up my laundry into a basket, which has both handles broken to the point where I have to bear-hug the basket in order to get it anywhere.  I drove the two minutes back to my apartment and praised the parking gods when I found an empty space on my street about six or seven houses down from my own. Tired, ready to be home, I threw my car in park and walked over to the passenger side to unload my bundle of now-clean underthings.

As I was standing by my car door, finagling my belongings into the perfect position for carrying, a tall man, roughly in his 40s, walked by me on the sidewalk and said, “Hey, how are you tonight?”   I responded politely, “I’m good, thank you.”  And that’s where the story should have ended; but then of course, it wouldn’t really be a story.

The man continued walking past me, about the length of one car, and I’ll admit I breathed a small sigh of relief to see him continue on.  Having a strange man talk to you alone at night can often be nerve-wracking.  Weighing the options between making a polite reply and straight-up ignoring can be difficult.  I made the choice to be polite, because I thought he would move on.  I thought it was the safer bet.  It’s what my 25 years as a woman in this society has taught me to think about; but I shouldn’t have to think about it at all.  

My sigh of relief was premature.  The man stopped abruptly, turned, and said in a voice so casual, and yet with so much intent behind each word, “You know, you should be careful who you talk to.  You never know who’s going to say, ‘me too.’”  

And then he laughed.

“You should be careful who you talk to.  You never know who’s going to say, ‘me too.’” Me too. Me too. Me too.  

In one sentence, he took this phrase, this multi-faceted, complicated, and yes, imperfect movement; something that is supposed to be this declaration of solidarity, of shared pain, and strength, and he turned it into something else.  He turned it into a sinister, disgusting euphemism. You should be careful who you talk to. You never know when someone might harass you, hurt you.

And when spoken by a grown man, while I was standing by my car, unsteadily holding my laundry in the dark, it became a threat: You should be careful who you talk to.  You’re talking to me.  I could hurt you right now.  

I could be another reason for you to say me too.

I stood there, confused, shocked, so many other things, my hands clutching my laundry, calculating how fast I could get into my car and lock the doors if I needed to.  But then he turned and continued walking down the street, like nothing had happened.  And I just stood there frozen,  refusing to take my eyes off his back, because I was so certain he wasn’t going to just walk away.  Every couple of houses he would turn around, look back at me, and then continue walking.  So I waited, holding my breath, for him to turn the corner.  I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my nearby car.  I didn’t want him to see where I lived.  Another man walked by, said nothing to me, and I briefly considered asking him to stand with me until this man was gone.  But I didn’t.  Instead I watched as he finally ~breathe in~ turned the corner ~breathe out~ and walked out of sight.  

I moved, mountainous laundry in hand, towards my apartment, eyes trained on the corner he had just rounded, just in case he came back.  I shoved my key into the second door and heaved out a sigh of relief as soon as it shut behind me.   

I’ll be honest, after everything was over, the implications of what this man had said and done did not immediately sink in.  That night I sat down, ate a burrito, watched Stranger Things, and went to bed.  I later shared the story with my roommate, and then another friend.  We discussed, commiserated, but were not surprised.  Now, the more I think about it, the more disgusted, nauseated, and frankly exhausted I become.  To some, this thinly veiled intimidation and threat is just the “locker room talk” people won’t stop talking about. I can think of a certain leader of the free world who would probably agree, but I won’t get into that.  But I just keep thinking, here was an adult, 40-something man, bigger and stronger than me, choosing to say something meant to intimidate and frighten just because he could. I can’t begin to think about why.  I don’t even know if there is a why.  

All I know is because of this one small (to him) thing that he did, I’ve started locking my doors immediately once I get in my car in the early morning.  I walk a little bit faster and hold my keys a little bit tighter at night.  I look at the face of every man who walks by me in this neighborhood, just to make sure it isn’t him again.  My neighborhood is still mine, but it’s different now.  These are little things, small changes, and likely, because I am very lucky and privileged to live the life that I do, not permanent ones. But changes nonetheless.  All because of the words and actions of one man, who probably has not thought once about what he has done.

This was one time.  One man on the street. One terrible, terrible sentence.  Now multiply that man into many all over the country and the world, in bars, on college campuses, yelling from their cars, using their positions of power to coerce and manipulate.  The Harvey Weinsteins, Bill Cosbys, Brock Turners, and thousands of unnamed cat-callers, harassers, and abusers.    Multiply that sentence into countless vulgar comments, abusive statements, coercive words, and violent actions.  Look at the scope of all of these things, and you’ll see an inexcusable truth about the society we live in.

Because that’s what this one moment in time was a part of, and I am just so, so tired.  We’re all tired, all of us.  And right now, that’s all I know.

anonymous asked:

I just found out that my tc is only 25 and I'm so relieved because I didn't want him to be any older😂 however I think my friends my be catching on to the fact that I have a crush in him. and i dont want them to know because I feel like they may say something by accident. I'm 16 and i dont turn 18 for a like a year and a few months so I kinda dont want him or anyone to know.

If he’s not dumb or can’t deal with emotions…he will notice someday

your friends - depending on how good they know you- will probably find it out firstly

just try to keep yourself together and don’t make things that would be obvious

and even if someone finds out….as long as you don’t do anything inappropriate with this teacher people don’t mind

so just enjoy your last years of school ❤

A little about this drug addict

Currently in Missouri. Started running in September and ended up here. I’m uncertain what I am running from, and I recognize it all as unhealthy. I know no other way than to run, run, run.

I tried my first Opiate (It was an Oxy) when I was 12 years old. Mom said it would make me feel better, and “turn off the bad thoughts.”

I became hopelessly addicted to Xanax by the time I was 15. I began using when I was 14, but noticeably changed by 15. I did not go one day without Xanax, or some kind of Benzodiazepine for five years of my life. I turned to them because I was in a nine-month-long physically and mentally abusive relationship. The doctor prescribed me Xanax for my vicious panic attacks. I was an addict within less than a year’s use.
By the time I was 18-19, I was taking anywhere from 10-25 milligrams of Xanax a day. I wanted help by the time I was 20. I detoxed, and left that part of my life behind me.

This year, I checked my brain into another abusive relationship. I didn’t even realize it was abusive until a few weeks ago. It’s hard to accept sometimes. The Opiate usage began when he and I first broke up. I liked them because they reminded me of Xanax (but in my mind, I was doing the right thing by NOT doing Xanax again). I liked them because they made me numb, and I couldn’t feel anything. I liked them because they made me oddly social, they ridded me of anxiety.

This boy and I got back together and I moved in with him. I began hiding how bad everything was with Morphine and Oxycontin. Every single day. I was living in my head. I was living in a drug world. Everything felt normal and alright to me. I did not recognize that he was ripping my life apart, tearing me away from everything and everyone that I knew. I couldn’t recognize this, even if I wanted to. My mind was, and will remain a haze.

I can’t feel.

This is a memoir to my hazy life.

Why I’m Happy About Turning 30

Today I turn 30 years old. While in the past few months I have experienced some mixed emotions about it, I generally feel quite positive about entering my 30s.

There are several reasons I wanted to seize this moment to write about reaching a new decade, but aside from wanting to capture my experience of the moment for my own memories, I wanted to write this for the people of my generation who, as they approach 30 themselves, find their lives looking very different than they imagined 30 would look when they were 20, or how their parents’ lives looked at this age.

I turn 30 with no husband, no baby, no house of my own, and no full-time, living-wage career. Twenty-year-old me would be so disappointed. Then again, twenty-year-old me had an idea of post-college life that, to put it mildly, did not go according to plan.

I graduated from college in 2008 at the height of the Great Recession (if that’s what we’ve decided to call it). I had a temp job that summer, but spent the next 15 months out of work, applying to well over 100 or 200 jobs to no avail. For someone who had spent my life until that point succeeding in a school environment fairly easily, it was a big blow to my self-esteem to suddenly be constantly, in my mind, failing.

Eventually I was hired at a job that paid slightly above the minimum wage. The $18 in my bank account was grateful. I stayed there for about a year and a half. Near the end, any enjoyment I had gotten out of the job was gone. One day, at the slightest provocation, I burst into tears. The next day I gave my two-week notice.

A few months later, I was diagnosed with depression. I was 25.

I began seeing a therapist weekly. While I was lucky enough to find someone I liked and trusted, I had constant problems with what turned out to be several health insurance companies. It was hell, on top of an already bad situation. But eventually, eventually, I began not to feel so terrible. It got a little easier to do the things I enjoyed doing before, but I still struggled to motivate myself to attempt the things I was so afraid of failing at.

My biggest hurdle was getting another job, but as much as I needed it financially, I could barely ever bring myself to fill out applications. It was really, really, really tough. But eventually, eventually, I was able to do it. I still see my therapist, but now we only need to meet every three or four weeks. When I think about the progress I’ve made…sometimes I feel like a whole new person, sometimes I feel I’ve gotten back who I was before, and sometimes I feel like the person I am now was forged through the fire of that struggle and came out the other side as someone I’m becoming prouder to be.

So reason number one I’m happy to be turning 30 is that after all the pain, fear, and self-judgment I went through in my 20s, my 30s almost have to be better! My 20s were so much harder than I ever thought they’d be, but here I am, 30 years old, feeling more free, more capable, and more me than I have in a really long time. And I feel so good about that!

The other reason I feel excited about finally being in my 30s is that I’m feeling more and more that other people’s opinions or judgments about what I like don’t really effect my enjoyment of those things much anymore. For example, I’m having a fandom-themed birthday party tonight and we’re all dressing up as our favorite characters! I’m going to be Luna Lovegood. Is it weird for a 30-year-old to want a dress-up party for her birthday? Guess what, I don’t care! I think it will be tons of fun for me and my guests so I’m doing it! I spent most of my day yesterday binge-watching Fuller House on Netflix and enjoying every minute of it. Some of the gifts I asked for for my birthday were comic books and graphic novels. Are those “for kids?” I don’t care! I enjoy them!

I’ve been a fangirl since I was 12 and I have no intention of “growing out of it.” Loving fandom things has brought me so much joy and just because I’m 30 doesn’t mean that I just suddenly stop loving awesome things. So I’m having a fandom-themed birthday party and it’s going to be fantastic!

I’m so excited about my 30s. Life is finally looking up and I feel more confident in what I want, what I like, and what I do. Getting to this point was tough going, but I’m here and I’m ready to have fun!