i would pick out this detail

Word Count: 842

Triggers: Female coded reader, day drinking

Requested by Anonymous

The buzzing coming from Quinn’s side of the bed got to the point where it could no longer be ignored. Five times. Someone had called him five times in the past ten minutes. It had to be important.

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1930s Animation: How it came about, What happened to it, What it influenced.

Hey guys! So recently as I’m sure a lot of you know, the 1930s style of animation has made a resurgence in the forms of Bendy and the Ink Machine and Cuphead! So I’m just making this to show where it comes from c:

Before you start though, I’ll be mentioning Max Fleischer in this post, and you can find out more about his life in the book Out of the Inkwell. I don’t have it myself as I’m pretty poor, but I’d love to read it soon <3

Was It Walt Disney?

It depends on what kind of style you’re thinking! Walt Disney’s work began with an animation known as Alice’s Wonderland (1923).

which, looking onto his future works, is a lot more different. The cartoon look is there; however, those famed Pac-Man eyes aren’t, neither are the rubberhose limbs and thick black characters. Those came into his work later on with his Mickey Mouse shorts such as Plane Crazy (1928) and the first animation to feature synchronized sound, Steamboat Willie (1928). The bouncy animation is there, squashing and stretching all the characters and objects!

Though, Steamboat Willie was actually not the first animation to feature Synchronized sound! That would be credited to  “Oh, Mabel, Mother, Pin a Rose on Me” (1924) (Which I actually can’t find…Here’s the song though!) and later on, My Ole Kentucky Home (1926).

There is a lot of…Drama….surrounding the relationship between the studios of Disney and Fleischer, but this isn’t going to be about that (though I may touch on it), I would definitely recommend looking it up though, it’s very fascinating.

Around this time, the scary looking Lip-Sync animation started to come along and the styles were fairly similar, though the Fleischer Car-Tunes were a lot more, in my opinion, clean, however didn’t fully stretch their characters as much as Disney had been doing later on.

Who are Fleischer Studios?

Fleischer Studios first opened around the 1920s as Inkwell Studios. It was created by brothers Max and Dave Fleischer, whom were Born and Raised in Poland. In 1914, Max Fleischer created the Rotoscope, a device that could allow the animator to create smoother productions as they had been drawn over Filmed reference.

Using this Process, they created the Out of the Inkwell (1918 - 1929) series, starring Koko the Clown!

Max included a lot more Live Action in his animations than Walt Disney and even revolutionised the way it worked due to his own inventions, including The Stereoptical Process (which I’ll show more on later), that gave him a good edge forwards during their prime. However, due to A Series of Not Quite Fortunate Events, he never quite overcame Disney and, unfortunately, his studio met a sad end. 

What other Cartoons did they make?

Fleischer Studios made a surprising turn with bringing in Less Live action footage over time and creating more Lovable characters such as Bimbo The Dog and Betty Boop (1931). (Betty Boop being another can of worms entirely with the problems her design created and the blow it dealt the studio)

It was around this time that people could start to notice the style’s true beginnings. The famed Eyes had begun to appear, the Clearly Animated Flat props and characters over the detailed painted environments, and the rubberhose stretchiness of their movements.

Bringing in Cuphead as reference, both Hilda Berg and Cala Maria were heavily inspired by Betty boop’s design as mentioned by Studio MDHR’s Jake Clark in their GDC (Game Developer Conference) talk, which I’d definitely recommend watching.

Besides these characters, perhaps one of their other most Well known characters was Popeye the sailor man! featuring Sinbad, a character I’m fairly sure inspired the design of Cuphead’s Captain Brinybeard.

In this animation you can see every part of the style’s inspiration. The watercolour backgrounds, the flat Cel characters and their stretchy, rubbery movements, and, shown in the image above, the Two-Tone Technicolor process (A secret in Cuphead for those who don’t know). This was another issue between Disney and Fleischer, as well as their own Financial problems with Paramount Pictures, so they had to resort to using cheaper methods, resulting in the above image being created by layering a negative-spaced film reel through red and green filters (basically, it was complicated back in the day, no easy layers then).

I’d definitely recommend looking up more Fleischer cartoons too if you’d like inspirations for your own works or for the animation practise, such as Swing you Sinners (1930) which I honestly think is one of the biggest influences in terms of the recent style too!

Why does Disney have this style in their animations now?

Honestly I couldn’t tell you that myself, as personally I myself am not really a huge Disney fan. Considering his past with the studios he worked in or rivalled, I never really had a soft spot for him. However, I like to hope that he took inspiration from Max Fleischer. Max was unfortunately met with the worst circumstances with working under Paramount Pictures, The Great Depression hugely hitting his work, and his relationship with his brother Dave deteriorating. (honestly I wish this studio was still here and Paramount not).

You could say the style was stolen, or developed, or inspired, being shown in Mickey Mouse’s more updated designs as well as just a general staple of “Old Animation” with the eyes and Thick Black characters. Either way, it’s the fact Fleischer inspired generations with the little miracles he created that is the important thing. I wish people would stop attributing these qualities initially refined by Fleischer to Walt Disney and giving him more credit than he deserves, but that’s just my own opinion. 

Should we keep making animation in this style, or move on?

Please keep making things in the old rubberhose animation styles. Yes it’s an old aesthetic and yes it’s not…the best out there, but it’s an incredibly endearing look that I think is a love letter to the old days of animation. 

You will get those who pick at the details of how it doesn’t fit quite with the style (With Bendy being a victim, his proportions and shapes being very inaccurate if put into the Fleischer/Old Disney style), however, it’s how you bring that style and adapt it to the modern world, how you make it so that you’re not merely just going by the original rules of how you create these characters and worlds. Yes, Cuphead strictly stuck to these details as beautifully as possible, but Bendy was, though I’m not a fan of his design myself, a great addition and evolution of the style into the modern day.

As nice as it is to remember these styles for when they came from and what they were inspired by, it’s always nice to know it’s just that, a style. You can continue to create in that style as much as you want!

However, if you ever want to say/credit where the style came from, though Disney did create a style similar to this and adapted some of its individual aspects into their work later on after, the Vast majority of it comes from Fleischer Studios. It’s a common misconception, but an understandable one considering the studio no longer exists and how popular Disney is.

If you ever have more questions about it, go ahead and ask! I’d love to research more about animation and give you information on any specifics within the studio, the troubles they faced within themselves/with eachother or other studios that were present back then :D <3

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Mothin Commissions! 

Status: Closed

Hello all~
I would like to offer Mothin commissions! óuó

Simple Mothins - $35
Single or two-color, you can also pick the color of embroidery thread.* 
*Limited to the colors I have on hand (which is quite a lot)

Complex Mothins - $45+
Based on real moths, or other extra details.**
**Limited to appliqué and hand-embroidery - we’ll discuss

Prices do not include shipping.
I will ship internationally, but be warned, it is expensive and I won’t lie on customs forms.

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For examples, you can check the Mothin tag: http://shuuflyplush.tumblr.com/tagged/mothin

If you are interested, shoot me a message or email me at cthartle@gmail.com and we can work out the details.

I will edit this post once commissions are closed again.

Thank you!

Also, sometimes I have some already-made Mothins available in my shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/shuufly

She’s Just Not That Into You » Part VI (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Miss the previous parts? Part One » Part Two » Part Three » Part Four » Part Five

Check out the inspiration behind Harry’s home here! The amazing @graceak​ made a phenomenal playlist to go along with Harry’s story, and I could not recommend it more. You can find that here!

As always, this miniseries is dedicated to @stylesunchained​. I hope Part VI mends everything Part V managed to break, my love! And, once again, thank you all for your continued support. I am over the moon about the response this story has gotten, as I’m unworthy of all of your love. (That doesn’t mean I won’t take it, though!)

Let me know what you think! Happy reading.

Originally posted by chicandproper

“But it’s like…” Harry stops and starts again. “I met with Carly, her replacement, and she’s nice enough. So nice. Lovely girl, really. But every time I talk with her about the plans, I jus…I can’t smile. I can’t get excited about it. ‘m not supposed t’ be talkin’ with Carly about them. She’s not the one who made ‘em. She’s not the one who…well, y’know.”

“If I’m being honest,” Gemma sighs on the other end of the phone, “I would’ve done the same thing, had I been put in that situation.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I would’ve, too. And I wouldn’t’ve been as nice.”

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|| giggles ||

[request prompt: an imagine where the reader gets her wisdom teeth out and is super out of it and her bff Peter offers to take her home. So she is rambling on about stuff and peter offers to carry her and she’s Iike no way petey I love you but youre weak and he picks her up and then he takes care of her and she falls asleep and peter stays until her mom gets home and then her mom accidentally reveals she never stops talking about peter because she likes him and then he next day he asks her out and it’s fluff???]

story specific tag: @spideythewebsitter , @manyfandomstohandle

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @ghostedwolf , @neewtmas , @lovelybaka , @animexchocolate, @fandom-flash , @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @literatureandimmature, @daydr3ams-away, @wannabe-weasley , @mcusebstan , @tmrhollandkay , @pepcvina , @nekonerdxox , @lokigirl18 , @fangeekkk , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry , @mcheung0314 , @samanthasmileys , @melconnor2007 , @wingsanddarkness , @tiny-friggin-human , @anastasiaannaa , @superheros-movies-and-books , @chuckennuggets1213 , @raindancer2004 , @teddysiupin , @thequacksonclackson , @spiidysenses , @the-trashiest-potato , @umwhatandrea , @converseandflannelshirts , @you-witch-bitch , @gentlethunderstorm , @whatwithoutwishat

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**

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Samurai Jack Cross Stitch

Here’s how I cross stitched Samurai Jack from a picture.



It’s a promo pic that I really love back from when the original series was broadcast. This was one of a set of three landscapes. I picked my palette using the colours in the pic, and worked out how to stitch it with this printout

I worked out a scale for how many squares on the fabric fit each cm square of the printout. I used a few thread markers on the fabric here and there to help plan it out, but I just stitched the areas going by the grid. I did not put a grid on the fabric. It’s all whole cross stitch, no fractionals, because I knew the detail would be in the outlines.

When all the cross stitch was done, I used lots of backstitch to define detail, and some simple longstitch for the Aku totems. Jacks eyes are entirely white underneath, I used black satin stitch over them to get his pupils where I wanted, and extra backstitch to define his hairline, for instance.

Matchbox for scale

The back (to the past)

Finished in a natty frame

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the new series!

The Nyma Incident

Alright y’all, here it is. The next installment of the klance YouTuber AU. Honestly,,, it might be a little unrealistic, but I wrote it anyway and @elsiemcclay convinced me to post it,,, so. There’s that. This is technically for Day 8 of whump week, but it’s late. Sorry. But it’s longer than other one-shots in this AU!

It’s finally time to find out what happened with Nyma.

Or that time a fan of Lance’s finds out his address.


When Lance opened the door, he expected to find Keith. The idiot forgot to take his key while running errands on a regular basis, and he was already prepared with a lecture as he opened it. Not to mention that the loud knocking was typical Keith behavior.

Instead, he was surprised to find a girl not much shorter than him, with thick, curly blonde hair and a bright smile. “Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I just moved in down the hall, and I wanted to get to know some of the neighbors! I brought muffins!” she said cheerily, sticking out a hand as she shifted the tray to the other. “I’m Nyma!”

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The key to love, my father told me, was to never love someone more than they love you. So when, after dating for five months, Christopher Moore was the first to say “I Love You”, I thought I had hit the “Love Jackpot”. I say this because, prior to him saying it at that very moment, I had never given thought to the possibility that I could love him in return. Standing in front of my apartment building, nervous and excited, facing him and his smile, I questioned whether love was the word to describe what I was feeling. High school love, after all, is quite trivial with it’s ins and outs. Nevertheless after weighing the theoretical pros and cons of love, I decided that I was in love, at least in some respects. He was handsome, smart, sweet, and I enjoyed his company. This is what I believed love boiled down to; four factors. Honesty, clearly, was something I overlooked. About a year and 7 months into our blissful love affair, after graduation had passed and we had spent the summer taking all the cliché couple pictures, Chris decided that he “just couldn’t go on lying to me anymore. “Jenine” he told me “this guilt is eating me alive!”. I imagine there wasn’t much of him left, as it had been “eating away at him” for 6 months. This is when I learned that there is no “key” to love; no guide, no tips, no 101 course, because love is lived and learned; never taught. Try as you may, to forgo the pain of love, you’ll find joy in knowing that it’s survive-able and moreover, sometimes the good outweighs the bad. No, Chris wasn’t the love of my life, but he gave life to my ability to love.

“Never” my father said “let love override your faculty of reason.” Easier said, than done. My next love was Jeremy Bishop. Before you ask, of course there were others between Chris and Jeremy. But this is a story about love; not “almost loves”,“semi loves”, and “could’ve beens”. Jeremy’s love was the worst kind of love. The kind that doesn’t have a reason to exist but somehow it does and you’re glad. Its sole purpose is to debilitate your mind, forcing you to follow only your emotions. While Jeremy was dreamy, I learned that the man of your dreams can sometimes be the root of your nightmares.

I met Jeremy my junior year at _________ University. It was a Sunday and I had been studying in the library for an anthropology midterm and decided that I would take a break. Putting my highlighter down & flexing my hand I stood up & headed towards the bathroom. As I walked through the stacks, passing my hand across the rows of books I’d never read, my friend Denise spotted me and waved me over. Walking swiftly I made my way to the table she was stationed it & gathered that she had been studying all day as all. Splayed papers, open textbooks, two highlighters, & her laptop with several window open screamed “cram session” to me. After having sat & talked for some time about school & it’s “scammagry”, I noticed that someone had taken a seat at the end of the table. You know those typical movies where two people look up at the same time & smile coyly at one another? Well that’s what happened with us…….minus the smiling. When Jeremy & I caught eyes it was more of an inquisitive stare down. I relented because who really stares at a stranger for lengths at a time? Apparently Jeremy does because every time I looked up he was looking at me or perhaps through me. Whatever the case was I asked Denise if she could “Excuse me for one second?” as I got up from my seat and sauntered over to Jeremy, running my fingernails along the wooden table that both separated and joined us.

He was brown skinned but it was a rich brown that I often found myself lost in. He had brown hair that was cut low to avoid maintenance & also to spite his mother who so much loved it longer. His eyes were almost black they were so dark, yet you never asked someone to hit the lights when staring into them. He had a slight dimple on the right side of face that only presented itself in the presence of his mother, its creator.

“I know you or something?” I said, to which he looked up & responded “No you don’t. But since you’re already here, I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you….” he said moving his hand in that circular waiting motion “this is usually the part where you tell me your name”. He was sarcastic & forthcoming and I liked it. “This is usually the part when I’d say Jenine. My name is Jenine. Though I’m not sure it’s nice to meet you.” “Well Jenine, do you have HIST 256 on Mondays & Thursdays? I think that’s where I’ve seen you before.” “Well Jeremy, had I known you were a stalker I would’ve stayed at the other end of the table” “A stalker Jenine? Really? I think you’re mistaking my keen eye for details.” “I stand corrected then. I just had no idea I was noticeable to your "keen eye”, I said, making air quotes. He leaned in & said, “Maybe Jenine, just maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know. I’d be happy to fill you in though. If you were ever free.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me, Jeremy, that you’re asking me out.” “It seems that way, because it is that way. But enough with this, would you be interested in going out?” “I’ll contemplate it.”

A week later Jeremy picked me up in his beat up silver 2010 Toyota Corolla. Got out & offered to close the door for me not because he was a gentleman but because I literally couldn’t close it myself. He told me he wanted to show me his favorite place in all of Brooklyn. We drove for about 15 mins and parked in DUMBO; my favorite place. As we walked to the pier he barraged me with every menial question from favorite color to top five movies. I stopped his questioning because I realized I knew nothing about him. “What about you?” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I’m a Taurus. Now back to you.” “Your sign. You gave me the third degree and in return you tell me your astrological sign??” “I’m really not that interesting. I kind of just go with the flow nothing special really.” “I could say the same about myself but you don’t see me spewing monotonous facts about myself” “That’s just it though. You’re very interesting. I see you twice a week & you never look the same to me. Always a different hairstyle, new lipstick, different outfit. You keep me guessing & well…I like that.” “Different outfit…Did you expect me to have the same clothes on like a cartoon character?”

Jeremy took my clothes off the way he took down my walls; slowly & intently. I never felt exposed or vulnerable. It was easy with him & who doesn’t like easy? The first time we had sex he kissed every scar and stretch mark on my body while he whispered beautiful and for the first time I believed it. This is when I knew I loved him; this is when I knew he loved me. We fell into a routine & inevitably, that’s how we fell apart. We saw each other four-five times a week in between work, school & our respective friends. I’d meet him after work or he’d meet me after class, we’d get some food or I’d cook, we’d talk, then go back to his dorm room or my house & somewhere in between there we’d fuck once or twice & that would be that. Talk, Eat, Fuck, Repeat. This, I should inform you, was the foundation for our dismantling. Jeremy grew tired of our monotony, I suppose, & because of that he started talking to a female customer who had “just so happened” to frequent his job. In talking they “just so happened” to find they had “so much in common” & somehow Jeremy’s dick “just so happened” to be in her mouth when I walked into his dorm room to get the spare phone charger I left there just in case. “Oh Mahh Gahhhh” is what Celeste said with his dick slighty tucked to the left side of her mouth because it wouldn’t have been polite to pull it out all together; though I’m sure there was no God she could ever call her own. Startled yet surprisingly indifferent I found my charger in the first drawer of his night stand now decoratively arrayed with ripped condom wrappers and I closed the door behind me.

Walking out of the apartment I didn’t feel anything but when I reached the stairs it hit me and when Jeremy came running out of his room, pulling his boxers up I looked up at him from the top stair I was sitting on & hit him right in the groin. “Shit! Ahh! Damn, J! Come on!” he winced . “Come on?? Excuse me?!? You’re such a fucking dickhead. Like what the fuck?” “I know. I know. I’m sorry babe. You gotta believe me! I swear it’ll never happen again.” & that’s what I wanted to believe after all; that this was just a bump along our road; that we could get through this because we could get through anything. So when Jeremy crouched down in front of me, put his hand under my chin, looked me right in the eye and told me he was “so sorry”, that he “really loved me”, that he was “mad stupid for doing that” I believed him & gave us another chance because I wasn’t ready to admit failure.

Celeste Soto was the average full figured broad who just “couldn’t help” falling for other women’s boyfriends, husbands, fiancés, you name it. Walking back into his room, I found her putting her left shoe on with one hand on his desk for balance. “You gotta believe mama” she said “I didn’t know he even had a girl. You feel me? I wouldn’t have done anything with him. Thas crazy disrespectful. My bad.” as she adjusted her bra strap and pulled her hair into a messy bun. Turning slighty towards Jeremy, I looked at him as if to say “really?!? THIS was the best you could do??” and he lowered his head, and stared at this one spot on the carpet that he could never get out. Not only had Jeremy cheated but he chose the lowest of women to do it with. “First of all, I’m not one of your friends so I don’t know why you’re calling me "mama” & no I don’t “feel” you nor do I intend to. Get your shit and get out!“ When she was gone I searched the apartment for remnants of her presence, prior to that days visit. An earring, a hair tie, maybe a lip balm. I found nothing or maybe I wasn’t really looking.

For eight months straight Jeremy was on his BEST behavior. He’d let me know where he was at all times as to ensure that he wasn’t out cheating; send pictures as proof on some occasions. I have to admit, though I was secure in his whereabouts, I was also sure that this was not how healthy relationships works. Nevertheless I looked forward to each notification because afterall "once a cheater……"you know the rest. One night I went over to his place to cook dinner, partially to ensure he wouldn’t be feeding Celeste or any other girl his penis but also because this is what I missed most about us. I had become so preoccupied with deciding whether or not I could trust him that I wasn’t concerned with trying to make us seem normal. After dinner we were in his bed tearing at each other’s clothes & after switching positions five times he looked down at me & said "I can’t do this”. Looking back at him I said “it’s cool I wasn’t feeling it either honestly”. “Not this” he said falling to my side, facing the ceiling “I mean like this….us”. Somehow though I knew that was what he had meant. This ball of something akin to both fear & anger welled up in my throat & grew until finally all I could say was “oh”. One tear fell from my eye & couldn’t allow myself to shed another. “This whole time” he said getting up from the bed “I wasn’t with you because I wanted to be. I was with you because I didn’t want to let you down.” He was pacing back & front at the foot of the bed, lifting his hands to his head then retracting them, looking over at me occasionally for assurance of my understanding. So he continued "I couldn’t let your last image of me be somebody who betrayed you. I had to prove you wrong & that’s selfish. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be in a relationship I’m not fully committed to. It isn’t fair to either of us J & you can hate me but I’d rather you hate me for being honest.” “Is this a joke? Please tell me you’re kidding right now” I said, half laughing half crying. “Let me get this straight” I said, sitting upright in his bed, pulling my shirt over my head “You cheated…..You lied…..YOU fucked up….You begged for another chance!…and my stupid ass gave you one. I’m just so lost right now.” This is when I realized I never should have sat on those steps & cried. I should’ve ran out of that building like it was on fire because guys like him will always burn you.

Some nights I could still hear his footsteps pacing the floor & I’d wonder when in the hell it would be over. When I’d stop crying; when I’d realize I was better off without him. But there’s this moment & I know it sounds cliche but you just wake up & you feel different you feel like you can begin again. One morning I woke up and knew Jeremy would never have a hold on me the way he did before, but more importantly I didn’t want him to.

The thing about baggage is that you never realize how much of it you carry around. In fact you assume that more often than not you don’t carry any at all because you’re “over it” or you’ve “moved on”. You’ll find yourself compromising because you just want someone to call at night; that wants only you. “Trust me.” my mother said “There will be others and don’t think that you have to look for them or that you have to settle.” My mother had a way with words. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a good thing but the fact remains that when she said those words to me I wished she had kept her opinion to herself. I would never settle…..or at least I didn’t think I would.

I knew I didn’t love Benjamin the first time he came inside me & I wished I had never come to his apartment, let alone into his room splayed with dirty laundry that he was “gonna get to”. More importantly I knew I couldn’t love Benjamin, not the way I wanted to at least, when he told me I’m just like my mother. This sounds stupid I know, but let me explain.

After a week of working overtime, my best friend Selene dragged me out of my apartment for a night of bar hopping. Upon walking into our third stop, Benjamin grabbed my hand & told me I was pretty. That was it. There was no drawn out conversation, no playing hard to get, it was very low stakes. I gave him my number & before I got to the next bar he had called & asked when he could see me again. “Tomorrow” I said.

The next evening Benjamin showed up at my apartment with no plan other than to show up. We decided to see a movie.

The movie we saw doesn’t matter. Neither does the fact that we went to the movies. What matters is that after we left the movies, Benjamin grabbed both my hands & kissed me. When he stopped & I looked up at him he said “You taste like stale popcorn”. I thought “what the fuck?” & then he reminded me that we shared a popcorn. Our entirely relationship was like this; constant reminders of things I should have been aware of.

Ben was different from Jeremy because he never lied to me. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s a good thing though. His honesty was one that I had to grow accustomed to. We had been dating for about two months, when I called him asking if he wanted to get dinner later & he simply replied “no”. No explanation, no rain check, no apology; he just hung up. Later he’d text me & say that we should get breakfast instead the next day because he liked being the first person I talked to in the morning. He never hid anything from me. Girls would text him, telling him how much they “missed him” how much “fun” they used to have & he’d show me his phone while laughing & ask what I thought he should say in his reply. It was almost inconceivable, how much he included me in his decisions when it came to other women. Co-workers would invite him out to dinner & drinks after work, over to their apartments, concerts & he would ask me, not if he could go (because he was going to do what he wanted regardless) or if I wanted to come with, but how I’d feel if he went it with them. We’d be waiting for our heart rates to drop back to normal after sex; our skin still dewy and tingling and he’d say “the last time was better” or “you faked it, but that’s cool” as he got up and ambled to the bathroom & I’d wonder if he had to be so honest with me all the time.

I woke up one day to him sitting at my kitchen table in just some sweatpants, signing a card. Next to him there was a huge bouquet of sunflowers. I walked over to him, fixing my bed hair into a bed bun & when I sat down he was startled. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early” he said & I looked over at the clock on microwave. “It’s after 11……does that even count as early?” I said. He looked up at me, then at the clock, then back at me & shrugged “I guess not”. I asked “Who’s the card for?” & as he sealed it, he handed to me & said “Happy Anniversary Sweetness” with no inflection. My face dropped to the floor, along with the card. “An anniversary?” I thought “have we really been dating a year? Maybe it’s like a six month anniversary? But that’s not even an anniversary!” After a few mental “Fuck!!”’s, I pulled myself together, awkwardly smiled as I picked up the card & opened it. It had been a year since I moved into my own place. In the card he wrote about how happy he was for me; that he knew how big of a deal it was for me to live on my own & he wanted me to know that it was just as important to him. I cried out of relief. He thought I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, primarily because as I closed the card, hugged him, wiped my tears and sniffled into his neck, I whispered “Thank you. This means a lot.”. One year of independence; something I should have been aware of.

The first time he told me he loved me, I opened my mouth to respond & he placed his index finger on my parted lips. “Stop” he said. “Not everything I say deserves or should be met with a response Jenine. I love you. That’s it.” I of course flew into defense. “So I can’t say it back? I can’t love you in return? What kind of bullshit is that Ben? You can’t just say something like that & expect me not to say anything back.” “I never said you can’t say anything back. But think about it baby, I said I love you & your first instinct was to respond. You didn’t even really take the moment in. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to love me back because I love you. I want you to love me because you actually love me.” I felt little, like a child, like I had been put in my place, handled, dealt with, but I wouldn’t let him know. “You’re such an asshole sometimes” I said “but that Benjamin, for your information, is why I love you. Because you’re only an asshole sometimes”.

There are two important things I remember from when I broke up with Ben:

1. It was raining.
2. He told me I should’ve ended us a long time ago.

I came back to the apartment from the gym. As I shook my umbrella walking through the door, Ben sauntered by in his usual attire, house sweats and no shirt, saying “You must love mopping.” in a condescending tone. I happily returned the tone saying “Definitely. I just love it! Can’t get enough.” as I rolled my eyes and the umbrella up, fastening it shut. I walked over to the kitchen & checked the fridge. All that was left was this chicken Parmesan “thing” I had attempted to make three days earlier & it looked like a big pile of mush at that point. I chucked it & decided that take out sounded good. I had a taste for some pad thai so the choice was easy. Picking up my phone & dialing the number I thought it might be a good idea to ask Ben what he wanted but I figured he’d eat whatever I ordered him. So I made the call, ordered Chicken Pad Thai and another peanut sauce dish with shrimp, and hung up. As soon as my phone had ended the call, Benjamin started an argument. “Why would you order food without asking me what I wanted?” he asked me walking out of the bedroom and I replied “I ordered food for us both. No need to say thank you”. He walked towards the window to look out but really it was all dramatics because our window looks directly at the alley behind our building that holds nothing but two dumpsters and a few forgotten cats. “Why would I say thank you to you for doing something I never asked you to do?” he said with his back turned to me “Sometimes” he scoffed, almost laughing, as he looked at the rain collect in the window sill. “Sometimes I don’t get you. Like after all this time you still do shit that irritates me and I wonder why the fuck I still want to lay next to you at night or wake up with you in the morning.” I was sitting on the sofa, absentmindedly playing with the tag on this pillow I bought two years before when he & I had just started dating. He told me the pattern on it reminded him of us; that the lines never intersected. They just changed direction. “Nobody is holding you here Ben. You can leave anytime you’d like.” I said as I picked up the remote & turned on the television.

Thirty-five minutes later I was annoyed that the food hadn’t arrived but also because Ben never left the window. He just stayed there staring at the rain while it sheeted down the window screen and when thunder roared he’d just sigh. “What could be taking this food so long? The place isn’t even that far.” I complained. “It’s the rain Jenine. Everything slows when it rains. People, cars, buses, trains, bikes, they all slow.” He paused “You also might want to factor in the idea that a bunch of people order take out on a night like this.” I answered back “I knew that!……why are you always telling me things as if I don’t know them? As if I’m not aware? It’s just annoying. You’re annoying.” Ben walked away from the window & towards the kitchen counter. He planted his two hands palm down on the counter, hoisted himself up to sit on it, looked at me & said “Maybe it’s not me that annoys you Jenine. Maybe you can’t admit that I’m ever fucking right! I can’t ever make a point without you saying “I knew that!”. If you knew it Jenine…..then why would you say half the shit you say or do half the shit you do.“ I paused the lifetime movie I had been somehow become invested in and pressed a metaphorical "play” on the scene that was unfolding in our living room. “I don’t know Ben. Maybe you’re right” I replied as I sat up, crossed my legs and interlaced my fingers over my knee. “Maybe I can’t handle the fact that you make valid points. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you can’t ever let me be wrong without making me look like a complete ass. You’re always so philosophical. "Oh thee "all knowing Ben!” Ohh he who knows more than anyone!“ I mocked. "It’s insulting. For someone who is just so wise you damn sure don’t know how to do your own fucking laundry, or wash a dish, or aim your penis directly into the bowl when you pee. Stop with the bullshit. We both have our faults.” My phone rang. The food was downstairs.

I threw on my worn out flip flops and shuffled down the 3 flights of stairs. Walking back into the apartment with food in hand, I saw that Ben had returned to the window. He walked over to the kitchen counter where I was standing, taking the food out of the brown paper bag & said “You said your ordered me food.” “I just ordered two things off the menu. I figured we’d just share.” I reasoned. “Right I get that but I don’t like peanuts. You know that. Don’t you? I’ve told you this. I’m sure I have as we’ve been together give or take I don’t know 2 & half years!” “Dammit! I whispered to myself. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking & I was hungry & I’m…..sorry. I’m just sorry.” “It’s fine” he said. “I should’ve just picked something up on the way home. It isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this. You’re like your mother in that way.” “Like my mother? All of this over some take out? Listen, good luck with dinner.” I said as I grabbed a plastic fork at the bottom of the bag & headed back to the sofa. “Yeah, like your mother.” he continued, following me. “You’re always complaining that she never listens to you; that you have to remind her of things you’ve already told her. Yet, here you are never listening to me. It’s not even about the apology. It’s that I just don’t think you’re really sorry at all.” he retorted. “Fair enough.” I said, putting my food down on the coffee table. “You wanna know what I’m really sorry about Ben? Huh? Fine. I’m sorry I moved in with you. I’m sorry I’ve been in this relationship for this long because we’ll never be good enough for one another. You know that right? We’re always going to be like this Ben.” I said, pointing at the pace between with both hands. “It’s never going to be enough that we love each other. There’s gotta be more to love than whatever the fuck we’re doing. I just don’t think this is healthy. I don’t think we’re growing here. Do you?”. “Now that J…that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me. You’re always saying what you think I want to hear and that’s my problem with you. You never say what the hell you want because you think too much about it. We are growing, it’s just apart from one another.” He sighed, finally saying “Look, I’m tired.” as he walked exhaustedly back towards the bedroom, on an empty stomach & closed the door behind him. I couldn’t figure out if he meant he was tired of us, of the arguing, of never really getting back to how we were or if he was honestly tired.

I slept on the sofa & I use the term “slept” very lightly. What I really did was stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was really it for Ben & I. If that was our last real conversation; if that even counted as a conversation. I planned out what I’d say in the morning after we’d both had time to think & reflect. I’d tell him I was sorry about going off & that it’s not that I don’t want to try to make it work but that I don’t even think trying is worth an actual try. I thought about it & felt like the whole relationship was a perpetual “try”. We’d just kept getting up, dusting each other off, & holding hands until we’d fall again thinking it didn’t matter because we’d fallen together. How many times do you have to fall before you realize that perhaps it isn’t the ground that’s tripping you up? That it might just be you. Do you have to scrape your knees a few times or fall flat on your face? How do you know when you’ve had enough?

I laid there falling in & out of sleep. I had this weird dream that I was baking a cake. I kept checking on it. Ben was there but he didn’t really say much. Finally I took it out of the oven & it was burnt around the edges. He shuffled over to the stovetop & looked at the cake with a somber face. “I told you it was done 10 minutes ago. You should’ve taken it out.” he said & I just stared at him blankly because he was right. I turned the pan over and the cake popped out. I let it cool, frosted it and cut a piece. Jeremy hunched over the counter top and watched me put the cake on a plate with confusion. “You’re just going to eat a burnt cake?” he questioned me. I had just taken my first bite and was going in for a second when I looked up at him and said “It still tastes good so what’s the difference?”. “The difference, Jenine, is that you know the whole cake doesn’t taste good. Only certain parts do. Why don’t you just throw it out and make another one?” he said walking over to the cake, lifting the plate up at different points and angles to get a good look at it. It was as though he was wondering how the frosting did anything but make the cake look even sadder. I licked the last bit of frosting off my fork and said “Because, burnt or not burnt, I still love cake.”

I woke up to a sliver of sunlight shining through the living room across the floor & stopping right at the front door. I sat up & checked the time. It was 7:06. I decided I’d go to the bedroom and get some real rest. I stood up & stumbled towards the bedroom. As soon as I reached the door, Ben was coming out of the room. He was dressed & had 2 bags with him not including the backpack he’d never leave the house without. All of the things I had planned on saying were forgotten. I could barely see straight, let alone gather the words I wanted to say. He looked at me then said “Sorry. Can I just get by?”. “Sure!” I blurted out as I moved to the left, almost jumping. He walked towards the front door & I asked “Umm can at least ask where you’re going?”. He stopped moving and turned, telling me “I thought about what you said J. About us not being enough for one another. I guess I just always thought it would work itself out. But I see what you mean. I don’t know the exact moment when you came to that conclusion, or maybe you decided it, but you should’ve ended us then instead of now. So I’m leaving. I guess I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff over the next couple of weeks.”. That’s it. He was gone. Whatever he had left, the “stuff” he mentioned, was never picked up. They were minuscule items really; a toothbrush, some body wash, a value pack of razors. Things that made you think of him, even though they were all replaceable. It didn’t take long for me to realize that much like the burnt cake, I still loved Ben.

To be continued or whatever…….

7

A commission for Chelsea! She wanted a fashion sense swap (so formalwear for Will and cozy/casual clothes for Hannibal) with Will at the front of a back-to-front embrace.

The first four images are pretty big, so please right click for full size!

Want to commission me too?

Commentary under the cut! Also available on AO3.

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Kingdom Hearts: why the “side-games” aren’t THAT bad

The Kingdom Hearts franchise is particularly well-known, not only to be a ridiculous combination of Final Fantasy and Disney, but to be a series that doesn’t know the definition of what a side-game really is. 

In case you’ve lost track over the years, here’s a list of every single Kingdom Hearts game, excluding re-releases.

  • Kingdom Hearts
  • Chain of Memories
  • Kingdom Hearts II
  • 358/2 Days
  • Birth by Sleep
  • Coded
  • Dream Drop Distance
  • 0.2 Fragmentary Passage
  • Unchained X/Union Cross/Back Cover

That’s a… lot of games.

Only 2 of these are actual numbered titles, supposedly the “main” branch of the game. This being said, the other games should only have little details and aren’t exactly necessary to understanding the plot of the games. 

Now, any self-respecting Kingdom Hearts player knows this is bullshit. If I had to pick only one side game you absolutely needed to understand, I wouldn’t be able to. Each of them is vital to understanding the “bigger story” in Kingdom Hearts. If they’re meant to be side-games, spin-offs that are unnecessary to the plot and would provide little information towards the main story, they failed horrifically.

Now here’s where these side-games do their job. 

@derekscorner​ was one to point this out. They only mentioned Coded, but this can apply to all of the side-games that were released. 

A side-game is meant to extend the story away from the bigger plot, focusing on things that they couldn’t fit into a main game because it wouldn’t be relevant. 

Chain of Memories takes your focus away from Sora’s fight against the Heartless to his journey to find Riku and this new mysterious girl from Sora’s past.

358/2 Days gives you more story on Roxas, who he was and how he came to betray the Organization while also characterizing Axel and introducing Xion.

Birth by Sleep gave you backstory on Xehanort, what he did to end up betraying Ansem, and what happened to make him lose his memory in the first place. It also gives more detail about how the Keyblade came to be such a scarce weapon, introducing new characters that are tied into it’s violent history.

Coded, probably the best to define as a side-game, took you completely away from the main plot, delving into what happened with the journal, how Naminé is connected to it, and what Sora’s true purpose is.

Dream Drop Distance tells you about the exam Sora and Riku must take in preparation for the battle with Xehanort and what exactly Xehanort intends to do to achieve his goals.

0.2 Fragmentary Passage tells about Aqua’s time in the Realm of Darkness and how she played a pivotal role in helping seal the Door to Darkness. It also helps set up for Kingdom Hearts III.

Union Cross gives backstory on the Keyblade War, further delving into how the weapon managed to start a war and what exactly happened to the worlds to separate them all.

In honesty, the games do a really good job of keeping most plot-heavy stuff to the numbered titles. The only time it seems to ignore this principle is in Birth by Sleep with the introduction of several new characters whom we’ve never seen in any of the other games and how important they are going to be in the upcoming titles. 

Kingdom Hearts, while every game is sorta important to understand in order to enjoy the story to it’s fullest, does keep it’s most important information in the numbered titles. 

Vixen Muse - Jughead Jones

 Request: Hiiii ! I have a really cute idea in my mind, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine, where reader’s mom is English teacher, and she suggested Jughead to tutor him, help him with his work, improve his writing style, and when she go to her house he met his daughter, a sweet, lovely and kind River Vixen and he falls for her immediately ? <333

Well look at that I actually did something productive, I’m so sorry for the wait on this request <3 I hope it was okay :)

NOTE: PLEASE LOOK AT A POST THAT FOLLOWS THIS ON MY BLOOOGGGG <3

Words: 2,132

Warnings: Didn’t proofread, I’m honestly so dead / mild mild swearing

“You’re writing what?” Archie raised an eyebrow.

The ginger and his beanie clad best friend were sat in a booth at Pop’s, drinking the evening away with rounds of strawberry and chocolate milkshakes.

“A novel,” Jughead replied simply, sipping on his straw.

“About Jason Blossom. As in the Jason Blossom who got shot this summer?” Archie had to clarify. Jughead tried to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“Last time I checked there was only one,” He reached under the table and emerged with his laptop bag. “Although a clone would make a thrilling plot twist.”

“Are you sure that’s healthy? Writing about a murder? I mean, it’s all you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks and maybe it would be better just to drop the subject,” Archie tried to advise, ignoring the shaking of Jughead’s head in disapproval.

“You know what maybe I’d have more stuff to talk about if you were around this summer,” He scoffed, the bitter tone is his voice taking Archie by surprise. “I don’t need your opinion on the context anyway, I need help on my writing and the words I use and the structure. It all flows in my head but when I try to put those words on paper, my mind just clouds over and all I’m left with is unnecessary rambling.”

“Speaking of rambling, there’s no point talking to me about this Juggie. There’s nothing I can say to you in this situation that would actually help you out rather than annoy you with my irrelevant comments,” Archie shrugged, leaning back into the booth and slumping casually.

Jughead rested his head in his hands. He’d been suffering with writers block for over a week now and it was killing his novel. He needed something inspiring and he needed it fast. 

“What about Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Archie suggested and Jughead’s head snapped up, his attention having been caught.

“What about her?”

“Isn’t she offering small after-school tutoring sessions because the school offered to pay her?” Archie took out his phone and pulled up the school website, showing Jughead the ‘news’ page which informed them of the opening.

“Why would she even do that?” Jughead took the phone off of Archie and quickly scanned the article, picking out key information like contact details which he proceeded to write down on a napkin.

“I think the school is offering her a pretty decent amount, they’re having to secure their teacher reputation record because of…. ya know,” Archie trailed off. “Anyways, she’s a pretty nice teacher right? Smart too, I’m sure she’ll give you all the artsy, angsty advice you need to fuel your supposed novel,” He reached over the table and took his phone back, leaving Jughead to think things through.


“Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Jughead stayed behind after class, now standing at the side of the teachers desk. The aforementioned woman looked up through her glasses and smiled warmly at the boy.

“Yes Jughead, how can I help?” She put down the papers she was grading and gave him her full attention.

“Well, it’s nothing really just something stupid,” Jughead scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He was almost ashamed in himself for not overcoming his difficulties alone and having to ask an English teacher for help. Archie was probably right anyway, the concept was stupid. 

“Please Jughead, I’m sure it’s not as stupid as you say,” Her voice was smooth and reassuring. Jughead slung his arm so that his backpack fell off of his shoulder and onto the floor. He took out his drafted manuscript, which had been kept under lock and key for weeks. He wouldn’t let anyone see his work until he was sure it was up to his own standards.

Mrs (Y/L/N) didn’t seem to be giving away much with her facial expressions as she nonchalantly skimmed through the pages, nodding her head and humming. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she put the pages down and looked up at the nervous brooding boy before her.

“W-What do you think? It’s just an early draft, I just wanted to know if you could maybe help me improve it. I don’t mean to waste your time or anything though, of course!” Jughead scrambled to pick up the manuscript and shove it back in his bag, refusing to meet the English teacher’s eyes.

“It’s great Jones, very interesting take on the whole ordeal. Very real,” She reached out a hand, stopping him in his path. Mrs (Y/L/N) stood up and neatly tucked in her chair before coming round to the front of the desk and perching on the edge. “I’d love to discuss it with you in more detail, if you would be okay with that?” She had already pulled out her diary from her desk and started to scribble some notes down in the dates of this week.

“Yes, that would be great. Umm when and where Miss?” Jughead didn’t want to sound too eager but he couldn’t help but feel a flood of relief.

“I’d have you come in during a lunchtime but sadly I have reports to do and papers to mark for the seniors. I’ll send you my address and contact details over school email okay, we’ll try and meet for afternoons for a week and see where we go from there,” The teacher scribbled all of this down whilst Jughead just made a simple mental note. He was on a laptop 24/7 anyway, he didn’t need to be promoted to check his emails.


“She must really want to help you then,” Veronica laughed as Jughead explained his daily English plan also now known as ‘his excuse for not turning up to group days at Pop’s for the next month or so’.

“Guys she’s just interested, it’s actually quite nice to be offered some professional support considering it’s been weighing me down,” Jughead sighed, picking at his fries. The Sad Breakfast Club were all gathered by the bleachers eating their lunch and just sticking to their casual weekday routine. 

“You’re making it sound as if she’s your therapist,” Kevin pointed out and the others nodded with smirks, much to Jughead’s annoyance.

“Wait, doesn’t she have a kid?” Betty perked up, finally chiming into the conversation after just simply observing. There was a brief moment of silence as everyone contemplated her question.

“I think so…” Veronica didn’t sound so sure.

“If she does, she probably goes to another high school. I’ve never seen or heard of anyone like that around Riverdale high,” Jughead simply shook it off. Boy, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.


He’d been knocking for almost five minutes now. Perhaps it was the determination to just finish the chapter that kept him standing at the (Y/L/N) doorstep that Wednesday afternoon but it was slowly seeping away, seeing as nobody was willing to answer. Or maybe it was fate, because if he left a little earlier, there was a chance he may have never met her.

“Hello?” That honey voice Jughead recognised came from behind him but it sounded even sweeter, soft and innocent almost. Perhaps even angelic if you wanted to go that far. He turned around, his expression irritated but his features quickly softened when he took in your appearance.

You were stood there in all your beauty, gym bag slung over shoulder and River Vixen uniform proudly on display. Your hair was tied in a tight high ponytail that could rival Betty Cooper’s, adorned with blue and gold ribbons. 

“Um, hi. I’m sorry, do I have the wrong house?” Jughead stuttered, his face changing from pale to tomato red very quickly.

“Oh no, this is the right house. You must be the boy my mother told me about,” Her confused expression instantly shifted into a warm smile, her eyes bright and welcoming. That smile could melt an iceberg. “She said you’d be stopping by, for help with your poem or novel or whatever it was. She’s out right now getting the groceries but luckily I have my spare key so you can come on in and binge some snacks with me,” She giggled heartily, skipping past him and unlocking the door. She beckoned Jughead to follow her as she dropped her gym bag off by the stairwell and ran into the kitchen, emerging with bags of popcorn.

Jughead grinned, following her into the living room where they both sat down on the same couch and started to talk.

She had only recently moved to town to stay with her Mum. Her parents were divorced and her Dad wanted time alone with his new family so they could settle in together, to your dismay. Thanks to her prestigious background, Cheryl had been quick to accept her as a River Vixen but other than her five minutes of fame at the audition, she’d purposefully sunken into the background of Riverdale High, keeping a low profile and fulfilling her role as a wallflower.

Jughead noticed how expressive she was. She would move her hands when she talked, waving them all over the place and gesturing. She could tell the whole story with her bright eyes, which leaked with emotion and passion. The words she used and her way of phrasing things filled Jughead’s head with ideas. The inspiration he’d been looking for was right in front of him and it hit him quick how fast he was falling head first for the charming Vixen.


“And then I told her that it wasn’t fair that ethnic minorities are portrayed that way in this show but she decide- Jughead? Are you alive? Helloooo Earth to Juggie?” You waved your hand in front of his face since the boy seemed to be lost in a trance. The two of you had been talking for almost an hour now and you’d been concealing your blush whenever he stared at you. It was undeniable he was kind of cute and different to most other boys you’d met. To him though you were probably the perfect girl next door. Untouchable and innocent. Not with your history, no. Nobody is ever perfect in Riverdale.

“Sorry I was just thinking about how pretty you look,” Jughead smirked, the confidence coming from nowhere. Jughead even looked surprised himself at his comment. You felt flustered and you looked down so he couldn’t see your rosy cheeks. So… he wants to play huh?

You scooted closer to him on the couch, slowly draping your legs over his lap and leaning back onto a pillow lazily. He was looking at you, eyes wide. You batted your eyelashes innocently, smiling up at him in a way that could only be described as… seductive?

You had no idea where this mood came from and neither did he. Some harmless flirting didn’t hurt nobody though. 

Within the next five minutes you were snuggled into his side talking about your day whilst he was stroking your legs and wrapping his fingers around the curls in your hair. There was just some kind of comfort and butterflies you felt when so close to him and it was clear he felt the same.

“Am I really pretty?” You suddenly mumbled, rubbing over your stomach subconsciously. You’d always been insecure about your weight and it had been your weakness when it came to dealing with high school bitches.

Jughead leaned back and gave you a look. “I’m being honest when I say you’re honestly so pretty, and it’s not all about your looks. You have a great personality from what I can tell. I mean, I can’t really judge you yet but based on the cover of your book you’re funny and charismatic and I would love to take you out on a date,” The last part was barely audible but you’d heard every single word. You sat up quick, mouth wide open. You began to fidget with your hands like you always did when the words just wouldn’t come out. You could just whisper.

“I would love that,” You stared at his soft lips and he blushed, staring right back at yours. You scooted closer once more, leaning in.

“I’M HOME HONEY!” The front door slammed shut and the sound of bags being dumped on the floor was heard from the hallway. The two of you jumped apart quickly as your Mum walked in to find the two of you, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with red faces. “Hey guys, I bought pizza! If you want to stay for dinner Jughead just let me know, (Y/N) can you help me unpack these groceries please,” She smiled at the both of you before walking off to the kitchen.

You reluctantly sat up but before you left the room, you turned around to meet Jughead Jones’ eyes. You smiled bashfully.

“It’s a date.”


i’m so sorry that i’m slow and ew, i hope this was okay + didn’t proofread because i’m dead. Will read tomorrow :)

EVERYTHING

@mrsjugheadjonesthethird @jvghead-jones-iii @thisisnotseriousbusiness @am-i-alive-yet @nafa1604 @khaleeisclifford @mrs-jughead-jones @vegaslodge @tasteofswallowedwords

JUGHEAD
@siaralovesgaming

RIVERDALE
@theselfishllama  

2

Once upon a time a 17 year old English girl fell in love with a talented but relatively unknown country singer by the name of Taylor Swift. PLOT TWIST: 11 years later she is one of the most successful artists in history and I just spent my Friday night hanging out with her at her house. Wanna know how this happened? I’m going to tell you my story. Get yourself comfy (maybe some cocoa or a nice sweater) and listen up. 

I don’t claim to be the biggest Taylor Swift fan in the world, but like every Swiftie I would always like to think I am. I have loved Taylor for longer than I can remember and one of my biggest dreams in life has always been to meet her. 

On 3rd October 2017 I woke up around 5am as I do every morning, and I turned off my alarm and turned my internet on. I had a few notifications, Facebook messenger, twitter, tumblr….but then there was a DM? I never get twitter DM’s, I’m not remotely interesting enough for anyone to want to speak to me, so who was this messaging me?

Half asleep and with my eyes still adjusting to the light I opened the DM screen and saw the words ‘Taylor Nation’. My whole body froze…that’s not what is says is it? I rubbed my eyes and looked again…it was. I clicked on the message and read it quickly. I didn’t really take it in, something about a Confidential Event. I dropped my phone onto my chest and looked at the ceiling trying to take in what I had just read. Was I having another Taylor dream ? Somehow I knew I wasn’t - the last Taylor dream I had we were eating banana splits in an old railway carriage turned into a diner…i don’t even like bananas. Somehow this seemed more plausible. 

I closed twitter and decided to ignore it for a second and look at my other notifications. There was a facebook message from my Swiftie friend Bethy telling me to have a good day and reminding me to keep my DMs on….wait, she had one to? I replied back saying 'I have, you too?’ and for a solid hour we were messaging eachother in code without either of us admitting what we had received in text…but we both knew. 

I sent my details over to Taylor Nation and tried to get ready for work…putting my jeans on back to front, loading the laundry into the machine without adding the washing liquid, walking around my house doing things which usually came naturally but for some reason took extra effort and concentration…something I was lacking. 

It was another 10 hours before my DM was replied to saying they would contact me soon. Soon? How soon is soon? Bethy and I continued talking to eachother imagining what it could be. Would we be in a live stream? A music video? Are we being invited to a show? An interview? In the back of our minds we wanted it to be a secret session but it wouldn’t be would it? People like us with a handful of followers whose idea of a great Friday night is to play Yahtzee while listening to Taylor Swift on repeat wouldn’t get invited, would we? 

Luckily soon was only 3 hours and I got a call from a New York number. I was at my parents house so I ran up the stairs to take the call. Some other Swiftie friends in a group chat were messaging me about stuff and I was trying to pick up but notifications were sending my phone into meltdown. Eventually I managed to pick up…then hang up on Taylor Nation. Yes, I hung up on Taylor Swift’s management group!!! (Sorry Ali). 

I tried to call back but it went to voice mail, so I sent them a DM and went for a wee. Ali called me again while I was on the toilet so I was nervously trying to finish peeing and then ran out to the top of the stairs to take the call. The signal in my parents house was awful and I kept shouting 'huh’ and 'hello?’ down the phone but Ali was so lovely. She told me I had been picked to be invited to a special event because I was a super fan and I could bring a +1. I knew Bethy was already going and I made a pact with Megan if ever we had an opportunity to meet Taylor we would take eachother. I hastily gave her Megan’s details and then passed Alex’s on to Bethy for her call before screaming at Alex to keep 13th October clear (for the record he is so difficult). On top of this I was also on holiday that day and so going to this event also meant cutting my holiday short…but this was Taylor Swift! 

I found out on Sunday 8th October that we had to meet at a hotel and would be shuttled to the location via bus. Unfortunately my bladder condition flared up on 10th October and I nervously contacted Taylor Nation for details of restroom facilities, scared I wouldn’t be able to go. I cried as I waited for an email back but Taylor Nation were so lovely….you could tell they worked for Taylor. I went to the local Dr on holiday and got antibiotics and instructions for bedrest for the 2 days before the event.  My bladder was still bad by early morning day of the event but luckily started clearing up as I travelled from Devon to London. 

The day of the event we all met up at Waterloo Station in London before travelling to the hotel where we needed to meet Taylor Nation. I was so nervous that everything was going wrong and had been in so much pain and in denial I was going to be well enough to go that I couldn’t believe it was happening. 

On the way from the tube to the hotel we saw a funeral directors with 4 gravestones in the window - were they for us when Taylor killed us with her music? A bus went past…the number 13? So typically Taylor! 

We arrived at the hotel and checked in. Taylor Nation were in the lobby (we didn’t know it was them). The receptionist asked if we were going to the knitting convention? I was confused…was this a cover story? All I kept thinking was 'I knit sweaters yo’….'no, we are going to meet some friends' we told them. 

We went upstairs to our room to get ready and when came down we didn’t know where to go. There seemed to be some type of line forming around the building and the sheer quantity of red lipstick and floaty dresses told me we were in the right place. 

We checked in with Taylor Nation and as I gave Elise my ID she said she liked my passport cover. It’s a picture of Taylor with 'grab your passport and my hand’ written on it. She confirmed with me that she was the one I had been emailing and I thanked her for her help. I then signed a NDA and got my really cool wristband which has 'United Kingdom’ in reputation font on it. And then we headed downstairs to wait for the bus. 

I was on bus number ¾ with Megan- Alex and Bethy had already gone on bus 2. I sat right behind the driver and he had his Satnav programmed with 3 different routes. He took the first route to somewhere random, loaded the second route and followed it, then loaded the third. It was clear he was trying to throw us off. As we entered part of the neighbourhood I felt very out of place. The cars had personalised plates, the houses were getting bigger, the hustle and bustle of London life seemed to getting further in the distance. 

Suddenly the bus stopped in front of a beautiful house…this was it…this was Taylor’s house? We were escorted off the bus and down to the side door which lead to a basement. The carpets were bouncy and the soundproof walls were so soft. We waited patiently for a few minutes and then suddenly the door opened and I caught a glimpse of a canvas of the New York skyline….this IS Taylor’s house. 

We were taken up the stairs to a central entrance hall with a staircase leading up to the top of the house and a corridor towards a large group of people with music playing - her Spotify playlist. The party was in the kitchen. Megan and I walked in to the kitchen, everything was so perfect. Ice buckets full of cans of soda and water, the best chicken bites I have ever tasted, cheese, vegetables and dip, reputation m&ms and cookies with REP on. There was so much I couldn’t even see it all.

We spotted our friend Bethy over in the corner by the French doors and headed over to speak to her. As we got there so did Scott Swift….the total legend and biggest fangirl ever. I told him I had briefly seen him in Nashville for 1989 and be told me the Mick Jagger story…the same one Taylor tells in interviews. Word for word and he beamed with pride as he told us stories about Taylor. There I was on a Friday night in Taylor Swift’s house talking to her dad about 2 megastars as if we were all old friends. And he was really interested in us, not just polite conversation but so enthralled that we loved his daughter as much as he did. True to Scott Swift fashion he gave us some guitar picks as me made his way onto the next group. 

I asked Alex where the toilet was and he took me out to the corridor…which hid a restroom behind huge grey panels. It was the nicest smelling toilet I have ever been in…and I have been in a lot! As I sat there peeing in Taylor’s toilet and looking at the Jo Malone candle burning by the sink I wondered…how did I get here?

Shortly after I left the toilet we were ushered across the entrance hall to a huge rectangular room. Opposite the door were large windows covered over by drapes and a single armchair - Taylor’s seat. The floor was adorned with cushion after cushion and Megan and I ran to the closest cushion to Taylor. Megan sat right in front of her and I squeezed in behind. This was a SECRET SESSION!!!!

A few minutes later I looked behind as the door opened and in walked a real angel to a round of screams and claps- red lips, natural 'I’ve just washed it’ curly hair, snake boots and a huge smile. She sat down in front of us on the seat and said 'Hi I’m Taylor’. Just like at tour, only this time not to 70,000…to just 100. 

And then the mystery was revealed. Taylor Nation hadn’t just randomly picked us off of various social media sites - we had been hand selected by Taylor herself who had stalked us for over a year and sent TN our profiles to invite us. It hit me…Taylor picked me?!?! The woman I have been 'stalking’ for 11 years had been stalking me too? Out of all the fans in Europe I was one she wanted to meet. I don’t think that will ever fully sink in. 

Taylor played us her album, telling us little stories about each song - the inspiration, the recording processes, the reactions from friends and family. It was so much to take in but watching Taylor mouth along to the words, act out different expressions and sitting-dance to all of the songs was hilarious - I wasn’t in the presence of a celebrity, I was sitting with my best friend appreciating the biggest achievement she will ever have - true happiness. Taylor Swift is truly happy, about life, about her music, about her fans and it is nothing short of magical. 

As each song played I really wondered how Taylor could top it, but she did…over and over again. Time went so quickly and it felt like the world’s biggest and best slumber party, except we didn’t get to sleep over. 

At one point it was so hot that Scott Swift had to open all the doors to let the air in. As Taylor played his favourite song from the album she called for him to come and listen and he made a joke that he was actually handing out guitar picks to the neighbours. 

After Taylor finished playing the album I looked around. Everyone was so Wonderstruck by what they had heard and I looked at Taylor and she looked so content. I don’t know whether she was worried by what our reactions would be but all we had for this album was love…and I hope Taylor knows that. 

After the listening session we were handed copies of the reputation magazines while we were waiting for photos. Megan and I were some of the first to go in. I was so focused on getting to the event that I hadn’t even thought about what to say. Taylor ran over to Megan and hugged her and started talking about her bright pink hair. She loved it and it had been distracting her all evening. Then Taylor hugged me and I hugged her back like I had never hugged anyone before. She was so tall like a giraffe but with the grace of a swan…and I was me. I whispered 'thank you for inviting me’ and she smiled. I didn’t want to let go.

As so many people were waiting they sort of rushed us with a picture. Taylor grabbed hold of us with her arms around our shoulders and smiled so sincerely at the camera. I wanted to talk to Taylor as I didn’t get a chance but we were ushered off. As Megan walked out front if me I went to turn and talk to Taylor when Megan suddenly shouted 'we went to Nashville’. Taylor screamed back excitedly 'I know’ with the biggest smile on her face. So…I didn’t get to talk to Taylor but she knew we went to Nashville. She really did stalk me.

When we left the room we were greeted by Mama Swift. I told her about my mum being terminally ill with Cancer and how she had gotten test results that day but she wanted me to be with Taylor instead. She gave me an extra hug and told me to hug my mum for her. I told my mum later and she started crying. Someone she has never met wished her well…it isn’t just Taylor, it is her whole family. 

We were taken back to the basement to collect Merch bags with a T-shirt, hat, sticker, pop socket and exclusive secret sessions keyring. It was so lovely of Taylor to give us something more to remember the day. 

I got the bus back to the hotel and sat talking to Ali the whole way about the album and Nashville….I may have also invited her to CMA fest next year.

By the time I got back to the hotel and collected my belongings (which had been taken from us earlier) I was shattered but I couldn’t sleep. I posted on twitter and suddenly my phone couldn’t stop vibrating…thousands of retweets and likes. I sat there trying to figure out what happened but I’m still not even sure I believe it myself.

It took me 2 whole days to cry…not because I didn’t care but because this wasn’t the norm. I had stood outside countless radio stations and events before and not met Taylor…I had cried. I had come away from concerts and not been picked for Loft or Club Red etc and cried…but this was different. Not only had I met Taylor, she had picked me. I couldn’t cry…I just felt a sense of fulfillment, of achievement, of love. By the time I did cry if wasn’t because of what happened; it was because I missed her. 

But this is not the end of my story with Taylor…I feel like this is the start of a new chapter. I came away with a whole mind of memories and countless new friends - affectionately known as FANtom Squad.

Friday 13 October was the best night of my life; I will never be able to thank Taylor enough and I’ll probably never have a chance to say what I wanted to say. But after years of hiding it & toning down this side of my life to please people I can honestly I am not ashamed of who I am because who I am is exactly how @taylorswift likes me. 

anonymous asked:

ok lets take a minute to imagine the little quirks Tom would have during sex. Like the way he nuzzles his face into your neck while letting out heavy breaths or how his arms tense around your waist when he picks you up and the things he would say to you like "fuck darling, yes" omfg afgakahakoaj!!1!!

i love this!! a hundred percent indeed,, we need to appreciate these kinds of details 

my god just imagine the atmosphere around the closed walls all passionate and heated. it’s been around an hour or so and for the whole while both of you were just alternately climbing on top of each other with sweat dripping all over your bodies. tom’s hands all over your bare sides and hips while yours were raking onto his back, digging your nails further every thrust he had done.

after all the foreplay both of you had, you thanked to god that it finally had reached to sex –since you’ve been craving for his cock the whole afternoon already. your walls kept tightening around him while you angled your head back out of the pleasure as tom’s fingers reached over to your clit giving slightly harsh rubs intending to reach to your high.

at some point tom, too, would also be nearing to his high. he’d begin to sloppily and roughly pound into you before he’d lean down towards you, pressing his forehead against yours. instinctively your teeth would sunk onto your lower lip as your eyes would lock directly with tom’s hazel-brown ones.

then tom would break off the stare as he’d move his head and nuzzle over to your neck. “darling, i love you,” he’d mumble out as you’d hum as a reaction to the sensation of vibrations brushing past your tender skin. “i love you too, tom.” within a few more thrusts tom would be a moaning mess, though still keeping his head buried to the area between your neck. “fuck darling, yes,”

Illusion of Choice (M)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Summary: You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

Word Count: 7.3k+

Genre: Heir!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: Smut and mentions (but not depictions) of death

A/N: Honestly one of the thoughts going through my head while writing this was “What’s the best way to make the readers suffer?” I’m not even sure if I’m kidding.

You always wondered why your parents let you have boy best friends. After all, being from such an affluent family, as well as being the oldest child, you will be expected to marry someone for the good of the company. Letting you be around boys would just risk you falling for someone that you can’t have.

These are the thoughts running through your mind as your parents call you up to their study on the eve of your 18th birthday, and you know that the day has come. They would finally tell you who you were betrothed to. You stand in front of your father’s big wooden desk, listening to their spiel about your duties as the heir to their company, only listening for one thing: a name. However, what leaves your father’s lips is not what you expected. The words “Jeon Jungmin.”

Jeon Jungmin, whom you had grown up with, along with his brother Jungkook. You had always been closer to Jungkook, having been closer to him in age, but Jungmin would always show you his drawings and sneak you an extra cookie at the dinner table.

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Little things that I thought/noticed/love about the UD crew after watching far too many playthroughs:

  • Even while being hunted by a killer and possibly chased by ghosts, stuck on a mountain with no cell or wi-fi reception, Chris will still take time to check his phone.
  • While freaking out about losing her phone, Jess claims it’s “like my fourth phone this year.” Considering the game takes place on February 2, I really hope she means “school year,” because losing or destroying four phones in one month and two days must be some kind of record.
  • It’s canon that Jessica Riley watches animal-related videos online. I bet she likes cute cat gifs.
  • I will never be over Michael Munroe, a video game character, uttering the words “This isn’t the internet. This is real life.”
  • There are a lot of things in the game that stretch believability. The existence of wendigos. The idea that trained law enforcement professionals could search Blackwood Pines for 30+ days and not find the mine shafts that a bunch of kids stumbled on in one evening. The notion that the same police department searched the sanatorium (as stated in the opening credits), without finding all the wendigos chained up in the cages, or without finding the actual decades-old dead bodies lying around. But to me, by far the most incredible, unrealistic, belief-stretching thing that happens is Mike lighting a fire in the cabin fireplace…with nothing but ONE SINGLE MATCH.
  • I mean, I’ve tried to light fires before (in a fire pit; I’m not a pyromaniac). Unless those logs were soaked in gasoline, that is not how it works.
  • In the prologue, Josh and Beth are wearing matching bracelets. Friendship bracelets? Washington family solidarity? I dunno, but it’s cute.
  • Speaking of bracelets, Ashley’s claim that Sam never takes off her bracelet is true–Sam is still wearing it during her bath. Wonder what the personal significance of said bracelet is? Has someone written a fic about this yet?
  • The “remembrance board” that Josh made for the twins includes several locks of their hair. Where he got them, I don’t know. Did he just have clumps of his sisters’ hair lying around in his room?
  • The remembrance board also includes winners’ ribbons from horseback riding competitions. We know Hannah was a competitive tennis player. Did she also ride horses competitively? Or was that Beth’s sport? Is there a sad horse stabled somewhere on the Washingtons’ property in California, waiting for Beth to come home and ride it again?
  • There’s a cute potential exchange between Chris and Ashley, while they’re searching for Sam, that I just saw for the first time recently because everyone always picks the “courageous” option instead of the “reluctant” one. But if “reluctant” is picked and Ashley talks about how scared she is, Chris says, “I’m scared, too. But I got your back, okay? As long as you got mine?” And Ashley smiles a little and says “I do.” I know it’s not the popular pairing but I don’t care, I ship it 4 life.
  • Josh emailed details, or at least an outline, of his revenge plan to his therapist. This would seem to support Sam’s potential line of dialogue claiming that the whole thing was a subconscious cry for help. 
  • Emily has a more freaked-out reaction to finding a bunch of old skeletons than she does to finding the decapitated, decomposed but still recognizable head of her own friend.
  • Emily’s boots are cute. I would buy them…except knowing Emily’s taste in fashion, they probably cost about a thousand dollars minimum. 
  • What the heck do Emily’s parents do for a living, anyway?
  • Everything out of Dr. Hill’s mouth becomes reeeeally interesting once you realize not only that Josh is the person he’s talking to, but that Dr. Hill himself is Josh. Or rather, Dr. Hill is a figment of Josh’s deteriorating grasp on reality. Everything “Dr. Hill” says, Josh is consciously or subconsciously saying to himself. And “Dr. Hill” says some pretty harsh stuff to Josh (some deserved, some not so much): chastising him for putting his friends through “horror” and “torture,” taunting him with his worst fears, and calling him things like “psychopath,” “sick fuck,” and “self-indulgent, spoiled little brat.” Let it not be said that Josh is not aware of his own shortcomings.
[GOT7 Reacts] to you wearing this dress

requests open

He is about to take you out to a fancy restaurant when you answer the door you are wearing this… 

Mark: When you open the door his mouth would be open wide and just stare at you slightly biting his lip, not believing that this goddess in front of him was his girlfriend. “You are the most beautiful person on this planet” he would say as you grab his arm.Then he would tuck your hair behind your ears and hold your face between his hand and plant a heavy, hot kiss. 

JB: As soon as the door opens Jaebum’s mouth spreads into a dark smile and looks at you with lusty eyes. He pulls you forward firm but gently, and kisses you holding you by the waist. “The only way you could look better is if you weren’t wearing anything at all.” He purrs into your ear almost looking to pull you into your apartment rather than out of it.

Jackson: He wouldn’t even be able to contain his excitement when you step out he picks you up into a hug and twirls you around. He would be yelling “This is my girlfriend, everyone please look at her!” A few people in the hallway would smile and acknowledge your beauty “Ya you! don’t look at her too long, MY girlfriend” 

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B99 + Mafia AU: in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softie to the feds.

Jake is kingpin of the infamous McClanes, the mafia rumored to have ties with everyone from your average petty theft to the Pontiac Bandit. For Amy, being assigned to gain his trust, uncover the secrets of his criminal network, and ultimately throw him and his cronies in jail is a dream

It’s two months into the assignment and one month into their fake relationship when he finally starts to let her in. She’s ready to hear him name his next main accomplice, but she’s not at all prepared for his speech on his Robin Hood way of thinking. It’s messed up, it’s convoluted, but holy crud does it make her realize the world isn’t all black or white. 

It’s ten months into the assignment and nine months into their fake relationship when he holds her close, wipes the blood from her temple, and says “I love you” for the first time. Her response comes out almost instantly, and it scares her how easy it is to say it back, to feel it back. 

It’s twelve months into the assignment and eleven months into their fake relationship when the higher-ups decide it’s time to send someone else in. 

“You alright, babe? Who’s the butthead I have to send a hitman out for?”
“My boss.”
“Gonna need some more details here, babe. You know my assassins aren’t the brightest… Alright, paper and pen ready, who’s your boss?”
“The FBI.”

Props to @cassianperalta for linking me to this mafia au prompt and helping me come up with the story for this!  

But also: this is an AU that I NEED. If any fic writers out there feel compelled to pick up this plot bunny, please feel free to do so! It seriously would make my entire day/month/year/life.

Yuri On Ice -  as understood solely through other people’s tumblr posts

[I have never watched Yuri On Ice, so this is just what I’ve figured out:]

Yuri is a competitive figure skater, who is, I assume, on ice.  He would like to win a medal.  Also he fell in love with another figure skater for being good at skating.

Hot Blond - who I will mentally refer to as Winner McWinnerson, the Moon Moon of skating, because that is the only name I have managed to pick up for him - sees Yuri inexplicably pole dancing in a garden at night and falls in love with him, a la Cinderella, but with more pole dancing.

They… meet?  Further details are mysterious, but I am guessing they also skate together and I am informed they definitely kiss twice, probably, for a 30th of a second as captured by this series of still frames, appended all over tumblr.

The only other character of note is the confusingly named Yuri2 - a second, smaller, angrier Yuri.  He is coached by Hot Blond and is probably only metaphorically his son.  He is also probably not related to Yuri, but it’s hard to tell, and I am open to the possibility they they both just have dicks for parents.

Throughout the series the aforementioned skaters all compete a lot, except for Moon Moon, who is busy coaching and already owns all of the medals.  

(More notably, a bunch of real life ice skaters became fans of the show, and tweeted the heck out of it, which was adorable and also meant several macho sports websites were blanketed with gay anime screencaps, the best  of all possible outcomes.)

The series is won by Yuri2.  I don’t actually know that, but I am pretty sure Yuri doesn’t win, so I am filling in the blanks with the only other character I can remember.

In the final episode, Winner McWinnerson proposes to Yuri, but also says he will only marry him after he wins a gold medal, because Winner McWinenrson dates winners, okay?  They agree to compete against each other for Yuri’s hand in marriage, and I can only assume this means the second season will conclude triumphantly, with Yuri on an Olympic altar, marrying himself.

……..how’d I do?

// RIGHT THERE

Pairing: Wonwoo - You

Summary: Wonwoo is an art student that hates drama class until his homework gets a little bit exciting.

Originally posted by wonwoowho

As much as Wonwoo loved art he just couldn’t stand his drama class, most of it was because of his annoying teacher, her voice was always filled with pretentiousness, her comments were always filled with judgement, she could never say ‘good job’ or ‘I like what you did there’ instead she said stuff like ‘that was nice but you got this wrong’ there was always a but and he hated it; she was also always late since she was a teacher at another school. Everyone else was really into this class because she was a director and a very good one, or that’s what everyone said, he had never seen her work, he rarely went to the theatre, just a few times as a kid with his parents but never on his own.

“Today I’m excited” His teacher said, he almost rolled his eyes at her comment ‘Now what?’ He thought “My favorite actress is doing a different monologue for three weeks and I want you all to go” He stopped listening after that knowing that she would email them the details later, she always did, he wasn’t excited at all but at least that meant no real homework for three weeks.

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