if you ask me when i'll get over this the answer is never

quotes from the music department

*Repeatedly sings part of the music in scat*

“Ben swore to Jesus that if he didn’t help me at the concert he’d do thirty push-ups in front of the entire band, and I’m just as excited for this as you guys are.”

“If it were easy, football players would be doing this”

“We were 4.75 points off of the next band, and I’ll make certain this number will haunt you until next season.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a rough week.”

“I’ll just get a golf cart to follow the band in the parade. Maybe one day I’ll play a halftime show in a golf cart, all by myself.”

“No, Danny, you’re not starting a group chat for jazz.”

“Someone made me a 22&½-inch stick to measure steps. Don’t make me use it.”

“Trumpets, raise your right hand, and move it over to the person next to you. You’ll be fingering the notes on their trumpet.” *leans over to woodwinds* “this is gonna be really funny”

“We don’t have Thursday night rehearsal this week, so live the lives you have outside of band. So basically, catch up on homework.”

“Here it is– wait no, that’s 32 pages, that’s not right.”

“Before we step off on Saturday, you need to focus and say the following prayer”

“All the freshmen are on break, none of them are here!” *section leader raises hand* “Adeline’s here” “She’s the only one ADELINE WHY DONT YOU TAKE BREAKS IN THE STANDS”

“I hope this is loud enough, because this is as loud as its gonna get” *glares at the saxophone that forgot the speaker* “He forgot the speaker, my own flesh and blood.”

“As usual, the bassist knows the articulation and rhythms to the saxophone parts better than the saxophones do.”

*beatboxes to metronome*

“I want you to go home, do homework, practice, do more homework, have a milkshake, and practice some more.”

“If you want to annoy the heck out of a musician, play a cadence but leave out the last chord and wait like 20 minutes”

“this passage is called ‘Glendy Burk.’ I went to high school with her, actually.”

“you aren’t feeling well? Drugs?”

“while I was in the middle of complimenting you, you made a mistake”

“that saxophone line was jazzy as hell”

“you just have to play angrier”

“what’s the point if they’re all accented?”

“you squeaked in tune”

“can you take that d?”

“you can play my final pitch”

“imagine brass knuckles, but on a tambourine”

“I had to blow on my tongue”

“Bethany, you’re my number one!”

“the entire band is pianissimo, so play really loud. mezzo piano.”

“go through the head”

“BAD tambourine!!!”

“112 is the American tempo”

“the audience started clapping during the caesura. I didn’t know whether to continue on or leave the stage.”

“Matthew, while you were gone, Ed and I determined that you’re a freeloader”

“you came in early” “I don’t remember”

“did you just compare terrible bass parts to a terrorist attack?”

“Christ, Elizabeth, you’re such a violinist”

“All of our violas are at another rehearsal today, so we’ll begin today’s rehearsal with a prayer as that is the only thing that can save us.”

“We don’t have a spare bass bow to use while Ed’s is being rehaired, so you two are just gonna have to share. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Ah, yes, but what baroque style are we talkin’ here”

“It was at that point she handed the first chair violin a viola part. He proceeded to hand it back to her.”

“I went home and cradled that music. I never get original bass parts.”

“She turned the page in her score and forgot to continue conducting. Honestly, I would’ve been less surprised had she thrown her baton into the cello section”

“There are two basses in pit this year, so we’re an actual section, so he can’t just shove us in the corner this year HIGH FIVE”

“Does she really know how to buy a bow? She should make it a field trip so you get the right one.” *swings hands in air super wide* “it has to AGREE and BLEND with the instrument DO YOU SEE”

“When the orchestra director doesn’t know what to do she just asks the second chair. If he’s gone, she waits until a day he attends rehearsal to ask him.”

“Don’t be afraid to play out. Except during rests. Then you should be very afraid.”

“is it ok if I start to cry a little right now?”

“I had anaemia as a kid, and my schoolteacher’s name sounded like ‘anaemia’, so naturally, I hated her”

“she took the pen out of my hand and said, ‘no, Richard, use pencil.’ I was so mad”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are fewer bassists today and higher rates of suicide, gang violence, school shootings…”

“channel your inner Whitney Houston”

“play quietly, like you’re about to wake a baby. except you’re the baby, because you didn’t practice”

“I have another metronome app now. I collect them.”

“if someone calls my bass a cello one more time I’m gonna lose it”

“at the gig, a drunk guy came up to me, pointed to my harp, and called it a sideways piano”

“I want the space between these notes to be so big you can fit a little drawing of a house, a sun, a tree, and little dog in there.”

“90º angle notes”

“I want the sixteenth notes so sharp they could kill a man”

“turn the soundbox on”

“do you have a fancy phone? the answer is yes, yes you do.”

“I listened to the narration a few times before realising it was in German”

“I’ve got, like, four copies of that piece. the conductor keeps forgetting that I already have it and makes me a new copy.”

“soon I’ll have AIDS. Hearing aids, I mean. I’m old, is what I’m saying”

“more birdlike, turn on roundabout faster”

“kissing from the left is different from kissing from the right. not that I would know. asking for a friend.”

Those Four Words

Summary: “You absolute fucking prick.”

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: Teen+

Warnings: Swearing (guess it’s a little late for that though whoops I’ll just put that in the tags), food mention

A/N: Inspired by a debate between @botanistlester@insanityplaysfics, and some anons on Phanfiction Catalogue about whether Dan or Phil would propose. I, um, might have been one of those anons btw (*cough* #TeamEliza *cough*). I hope this serves as an acceptable compromise.

read on ao3


“Hey.”

Dan doesn’t bother to look away from the episode of Steven Universe they’re watching, acknowledging his boyfriend only with a noncommittal sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt. Phil’s using his ‘idea’ voice, and as it’s barely past ten in the morning and Dan was up pacing the lounge until nearly five, he has neither the energy nor the mental capacity to pay attention to anything more complicated than cartoons right now. He pops another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and hopes whatever Phil has to say is brief.

(He gets his wish).

“Marry me?” Phil says in the exact same tone he used last week when he suggested that they go miniature golfing in the middle of a typical London downpour.

Keep reading

Truth or truth?

1. Are you good at apologizing?
2. Do you prefer your looks or personality?
3. Are you confident?
4. What are you most confident about yourself?
5. Name a few songs that reminds you of someone, and who it remind you of.
6. What is your favourite colour combination?
7. Define your “aesthetic”.
8. What is sex to you?
9. Do you have any kinks? What are they?
10. What are some of your biggest pet peeves?
11. What’s something that automatically turns you off of other people?
12. What song always makes you sad/emotional?
13. How many people have you dated? How many of them do you still have feelings for?
14. How are you with moving on?
15. What’s a philosophy you agree with, but fail to live by?
16. What’s something you don’t like about yourself?
17. What’s something positive happening in your life right now?
18. Are you truly able to admit your faults in relationships to yourself?
19. Is it important to you to be a good person?
20. Are you a good person?
21. How could you become a better person?
22. Would/have you ever pierced your genitalia?
23. Have you ever been in love? If so, with how many people?
24. Do you believe in love at first sight?
25. Which social science interests you more; psychology (how the mind effects a person), sociology (how society affects a people) or anthropology (learning about culture)? Why?
26. Have you ever orgasmed?
27. Have you ever made someone else orgasm?
28. During sexual interaction, what is the most important thing to you?
29. Are you comfortable being sexual with lots of people?
30. How do you usually get people to be interested in terms of romantic relationships? And sexual relationships? And platonic relationships?
31. What’s your favourite song to sing a long to?
32. What’s some “embarrassing” music you listen to?
33. What are you most snobby/pretentious about?
34. How do you express sad emotions? And happy emotions?
35. Do you use Skype? Facetime?
36. How do you feel about phone calls?
37. How do you feel about texting?
38. What are your thoughts on LDRs?
39. Have you ever cried over a piece of visual art? What was it of? Why do you think it made you cry?
40. When and why was the last time you cried?
41. What’s something you love that you never do anymore? Why don’t you do it?
42. Are you afraid to die?
43. If there were no limits; who and what would you be?
44. Are you more likely to be sub or dom during sex?
45. Describe your fashion sense.
46. Do you have stage fright?
47. Did/do you ever put your hand up in class?
48. Are you more of an open or closed person?
49. What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you? And the best?
50. Are you a theist? (Not necessarily in the way of “guy in the sky”, maybe just believing in any higher power)
51. What are your top three places you’d like to travel and why?
52. What’s something you thought would be really scary/bad, but was actually fine when it happened/you did it?
53. When you sleep at friends houses, how often do you sleep in their bed?
54. Can you sleep facing someone?
55. Do you ever get in slumps? If so; how often, and how long do they usually last for?
56. Do you like being alone?
57. Are you social?
58. How do you feel about parties?
59. Have you ever hosted a party? How did it go?
60. What question(s) do you love to ask people?
61. What question(s) do you love being asked?
62. Are you confrontational? Does it make you uncomfortable when others are?

Send me in two numbers, 1-62, and I’ll answer one!!

anonymous asked:

Hi! You seem to enjoy cute asks, how about RFA/V/Saeran sharing bed with MC for the firstest time? First is always special; will they be super nervous and self-conscious? Spend a sleepless night afraid their love might stop breathing? (happened to me once!) Or just immediately relax and cuddle all night? Hog the blanket? Or would there be instant passion? But definitely MC won't take "i'll sleep on the couch" for an answer!

A/N: This is so cute i do enjoy cute thANK YOU (mainly because I can’t do angst i kinda just…. *slowly slides the angst inboxes to 626*) ~Admin 404

cRYING I LOVE THINKING ABOUT SLEEPING WITH V THANK U NONNIE ~ Admin 626

*YOOSUNG:
-EXCITED AS ALL HELL HE’S NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE YES MC COME HERE
-He’d be pretty self-conscious about moving or snoring or something
-WHAT IF HE DROOLS ON MC OMG N O
-He’s so scared and tries to stay awake
-But that doesn’t work out, he falls asleep pretty quickly
-BLANKET HOG
-He likes to roll himself up into a blanket burrito and subconsciously forgets that you’re in bed with him
-It’s like fighting to the death to get into that blanket burrito just so you don’t freeze
-He’s used to cuddling a smaller stuffed animal, so he isn’t used to the fact that you’re a normal sized person
-You end up being the big spoon but that’s okay because he’s such a cutie omg

*JUMIN:
-Cool Calm Collected™
-Until it acTUALLY CAME TO IT *Internal screaming*
-He holds you close and absolutely loves the feel of you there
-You’re like a little heater and just WOW laying with you is way different than laying with Elizabeth
-But he just cannot sleep? No matter how hard he tries?
-He’s tried counting sheep, focusing on his breathing, focusing on YOUR breathing, but nothing worked out
-Gave up and accepted that he wasn’t going to sleep that night, he’ll have to drink a lot more coffee in the morning than usual
-It’s just what he’s used to, so it’s really hard to get comfortable enough to sleep
-He couldn’t help but admire how cute you looked when you were asleep, he couldn’t look away (though sometimes he forced himself too because wow jumin that’s a lil creepy stop that)
-Never once let you go though. If it seemed like you were waking up in the middle of the night, he’d hold you closer and internally freak out. He wanted you to have a perfect night’s sleep! Waking up would ruin that! HIS DARLING MC NEEDS TO SLEEP EVEN IF HE CAN’T

*SAEYOUNG:
-Immediately falls asleep
-He has no problems sharing a bed
-He snores a little bit but it’s sooooo cute omg
-Rolls over and cuddles you as close as you can get to his chest
-Nuzzles his face against the top of your head and he’s just aDORABLE
- honestly he’s just glad he didn’t have any nightmares this time
-But he’s SUCH A BED HOG
-You wake up because??? Your ass hit the floor
-AND HE DIDN’T WAKE UP. HOW DID THE LOUD ASS THUNK NOT WAKE HIM UP????
-You throw yourself across him just so you can lay down and attempt to sleep and he just doesn’t move. He gets a good night’s sleep but you’re left strung across him, uncovered, annoyed

*SAERAN:
-He really didn’t want to because he’s very uncomfortable
-But he’ll give it a shot, just for you
-Absolutely no sleep at all (poor bby ;A;)
-What if you stopped breathing? What if something happened in your sleep? WhaT IF
- pls calm down saeran and just sleep
-He does like holding you though, won’t admit it, but he does
-When you put his head to your chest, hoLY SHIT
-He’s calmed down by the sound of your heartbeat cutie cutie
-Always makes sure you’re covered, comfortable, not too hot, not too cold
-Likes to drag his fingertips up and down your spine but if you make any sort of movement he practically throws himself away from you because he’s embarrassed

*ZEN
- hE’S SO HAPPY
- but also really nervous???
- what if the beast comes out wHAT WILL HE DO
- he obviously wouldn’t do anything but still
- but all the nervousness goes away once he sees how sleepy you are
- oMFG YOU’RE ADORABLE IN UR PAJAMAS
- totally not staring at ur legs
- and you find out Zen is a HUGE snuggler
- you should have known this???
- like he’s so affectionate when he’s awake, it just makes sense for him to treat u like a teddy???
- you’re dying cause he’s like a furnace and u jUST WANNA SLEEP but you can’t wake him up he’s so adorable
- since this your first time ever, of course he’s gonna be extra dramatic
- when he wakes up, he’s gonna stare at u cause ur gorgeous even with all the drool
- he showers you in kisses omg
- he just spends the morning spoiling you cause you’re his princess <3
 
*JAEHEE
- the first time you guys share the bed it’s totally an accident???
- usually after you two do the diddly do, you end up going home because you don’t have enough stuff at jaehee’s to stay over
- but over time all of your stuff magically started to collect at her place
- hell, the closet is is 75% yours
- so one night after the frick frack, you’re just chilling in bed with her, she’s drawing imaginary designs on you
- and you’re both so exhausted from work that you just fall asleep
- when you wake up in the morning, you find her snuggled up to her pillow and you burst out giggling
- you quiet yourself down though because you don’t wanna wake her up yet <3
- since she finally has a day off, you wanna let her sleep in and yOU’RE GONNA TREAT HER LIKE A PRINCESS TODAY
- you finally get up and make breakfast for two <3
 
*V
- you and V take naps together all the time
- it’s like a hobby for u two
- so you thought sharing the bed the first time together wouldn’t be a big deal
- except you find yourself freaking out???
- he’s gonna see you when you wake up in the morning and you’ll look so ugly omg
- so you do everything you can to make sure you wont look to bad in the morning
- you use expensive perfume, you wear silk pajamas, you moisturize the heck out of your skin
- and when V walks in, you feel so ridiculous omg
- he’s just wearing normal pajamas, his hair is messy
- he knows he’s gonna look like a hot mess when he wakes up, he aint about to try
- when he sees you, his eyes widen cause damn u lookin fine, but he laughs because he knows exactly how ridiculous your thoughts must have been for u to do this
- so he just hugs you and you both go to bed and snuggle the heck out of each other <3
- you totally don’t set an alarm to wake up before him
- he also didn’t do the same exact thing

rachelhanke  asked:

Hey Charlie! First off, I adore your art. It gives me all the feels. Secondly, since you're primarily a self taught artist I'm wondering if you have any resources you strongly recommend for someone hoping to someday have a similar job to yours in concept art? If you've already answered this question just let me know and I'll comb through your blog to find it!

ESSAY IMPENDING.

I think, along with resources, I’d always recommend having a good idea of what ‘area’ you want to work in too. My job is kind of a strange one (in that it’s an house job but we’re not producing the games or films or actual products.) We are a step in the production line. I get to be part of sweet projects, but also I get to be part of many… I’m not locked into whatever a studio might be making for 2 or 3 years etc. My fingers are in a lotta pies.

The reason I say that is because a lot of people coming into concept will likely need more skills than I have. I am 95% a 2D artist. I work with 3D but very rarely, and not enough to know the inns and outs. I like 2D… and I consider illustration to be the sweetest spot of all the work I do, so I’m quite happy with that balance (and I’m an old fucking curmudgeon and I don’t wanna learn no 3D.)

If you went for a traditional role in a games studio, it will probably be more expected for you to be fluent in 3D. Not always of course! But it’s likely another good skillset to have. Purely 2D (just art focused) roles are not something that I see as often as mutiltasking roles. Which makes a lot of sense. 2D art is often mostly needed at the beginning of a project, and briefly at the end. In my seven years at Atomhawk I’ve seen a lot of people in other studios laid off, and a lot of studios go under. So, multitasking roles mean people will always have something to do.

APOLOGIES. I’M SOUNDING A LITTLE DOOM AND GLOOM. Great jobs exists! People will always make cool stuff!

I’m very much a jack of all trades and my job demands a lot of different things: characters / turn arounds / outfit designs / expression sheets / illustration / marketing art / pitch art / but it’s all primarly focused around characters. So. If characters are what you want - look into that! I would say that when it comes to apply for / getting work etc, we always love to see range. If someone isn’t showing me all the process behind their work it’s likely the first thing I’m going to ask for when it comes to an interview. I think if you have shiny work (on a freelance basis) a client would have enough confidence in the end result. But for a production role like mine, I wanna see that stuff.

Rough sketches through to shiny polished work. The whole lot. I want it all. I want to see people’s thinking! I’m rambling.

First of all: be able to draw well. Know your characters. Know your figures. Know your anatomy enough to make it convincing and be able to twist it when you need to. We get a lot of people who apply, who, quite simply (don’t hate me) are not good enough yet. We have people who work in tons of different styles and methods but at the heart of it, they can draw well.

DESIGN. Mother of god. Design. Drawing well is the first step, but you also have to have that creative flair to be able to come up with ideas and be able to sell them convincingly. Drawing the thing is only half the battle. No one wants a beautifully rendered character wearing the most impractical / boring outfit you’ve ever seen (just an example). Thinking logically about design is something I’ve seen underestimated many times over the years. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it’s more important than someones drawing abilities. When it comes down to it, drawing is just the tool to represent the design.

Resources wise: the internet is your oyster! Cast a wide net. Create the kind of work you want to do but also push yourself. I think the results are usually better when artists find an area they’re good in and the push the boundaries of that. Better than trying to be a jack of every single trade possible. Don’t have an awesome portfolio full of character work and then think ‘oh, wait, this is just characters, maybe I should stick a fucking car in there too?’ YOU KNOW? Do what you do - and do it well.

Briefly just a few of the things that helped me most: any massive black videos you can find. Mostly for process. Jason Chan’s videos easily had the most impact for me, both in learning how to improve my process and painting the kind of characters I wanted to. Micheal Hampton and Mike Mattesi (force) for anatomy and energy in poses. Your peers! Your favourite artists in the industry at the moment! The places and people you will learn the most from are always so very individual.

Shit that was long. Good luck!

PS. It’s also my humble opinion that you should never take all of your advice from just one person - just take the pieces that click for you :)

You once said that a step towards recovery means I’ll need to break myself into pieces, darling I’ve been trying to put my heart back together. I like to step on myself sometimes, I don’t take compliments well because I don’t think too highly of myself. When you step on the same lego piece everyday even your ego starts to melt a little. You once said that if I find someone to hold my thoughts before I hold their heart– then maybe she’s the one. Or maybe there’s no one out there, who knows, right? We can circle around this a little longer than always, but I’ll always run back to the why. Why do I want to conquer my memories? Each city that I’ve built for them inside of my head is still bright and I’ve not let a single light bulb blow out, I’m so out of it– while thoughtlessly I’ve been reaching out of my head, my heart likes to beat me to it. It says that love can only be achieved if I chase after it. You once said that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Do you still believe in those words? Because if I’m not cruel to myself, I could be cruel to someone else. If I read enough books, do you think I’d finally own a chapter in my own life? If I open up some more, will I close off opportunities for myself to the prospect of loving myself? And what about them? Vanity is my master and I’m a slave. It’s okay to be a little vain sometimes, right? I’ve got it in my veins, maybe I’m the only honest one. You once said that if I trip over the same rock and stub my toe a million times within a week, you’d still say it’s okay. Like falling requires gravity to bend to my whispers. Like drowning demands my lies to swim back to shore. Like dying seeps through my eyes, how can I love if all I’ve got is missing pieces? You once said that a river flows like time and if I’m out of seconds– you’ll just record your voice saying I love you until I finally get it. I remember everything that love has to offer, but never the person. I remember the feeling of infection that is affection. And if I walk alone and get hit by a car, maybe it’s just another story that I won’t write. Some words live in between the lines, I’ve been seeing dualities. Life and death is just a kiss and hug. Black and white, storms and clouds are just pears and apples. Poetry and prose likes to sound sweet, but it’s the bitter bits of me that’s suicidal. Love and hate was born from strangers, so you never knew the difference between the moon and the sun– the lightness of tomorrow likes to coat the darkness of past days. Cigarettes and lung cancer, a dance of smoke that disguises itself as stress free, do you think I’ll die healthy? Drugs and my body, which one will make me feel better if I’ve been sweating for a week? You once said that we’re spinning around in a circle just waiting for someone to stop by– grab my attention and you can have my voice, steal from my hands and you can have my poems, which hurts more to have loved or to not have loved at all? An empty silence that’s so full of itself– I can’t hear myself think inside of my own head. I’ve got file cabinets tagged under read later, but I’m a sucker for love– so I feed into it. You once said if the sky breaks into a brighter day, you’ll be there. That is wishful thinking, my favorite kind. Words can’t give meaning to our story, but we still write. You once said that it has to mean something. Every statement paused long enough for several lifetimes to become real again. It feels like such a long time, but we’re still in love with them in there somewhere. It’s buried. It’s in a coffin, but it’s there and we know it. We can hear it. We can hear it. Fuck, we can hear it. That little beating that isn’t ours, it’s always theirs. And that’s my fear, you once said that maybe that’s my fate– I’m supposed to cling onto that strand of innocence, of who I used to be, to remember what it feels like to feel, it has to mean something. Giving meaning to nothing, my favorite pastime. Giving something to someone, the only way that I’ve been living. You once said that until I learn to keep more for myself, I’ll always end up in square one– alone, but as long as I’ve got you, it’s not true, right? Some thoughts like to sleep alone, that’s not one of them. Hold onto that piece of us, the poetic storm that is joy. Keep your kindness to a burn, a stretched out sunrise screaming your name is my simmer. I know about nothing and that’s my one redeeming quality. I know that I don’t know shit, and that’s why I write like this. I know that I don’t love like I used to, and that’s why I love like this. I know that I’m not the same person from last year, and that’s why my guilt likes to trip up. I know that I’m no longer in love with her, but I can’t seem to explain the empty feeling unless I spell her name backwards under a star somewhere that I can’t touch. I know that I’m still messed up, but I’m just taking advantage of my youth. You once said some people will get over you in a week, but it’ll take you a lifetime to get over someone. If forever is a drug then I’ve overdosed. If always is a lie then I’ll take the beautiful. If never is more and a secret is sore– then I’m sorry about the words that didn’t stop, I am trying. I am always trying. You once said that if we kiss the ocean long enough, the mountains will answer. I’ve buried my love letters on the highest mountain and emptied my heart into my art. If I live long enough to spread my wings, do you think I’d still be condemned? Life is too short to live in the past, but I can’t stop asking about my what ifs. Love is too long to just be over, but I’ll just keep painting over it with a new layer of red. If you’re still reading, then I’m still writing. This yin and yang battle of ours has no meaning. Tortured souls live in the canvas and I’ve seen enough chains– I shall be unbound someday. You once said I love you– darling, that’s the only fucking truth that I believe in. You once said that soulmates aren’t always lovers– I guess it’s just you. You once said that flowers don’t just bloom, they wilt– so I guess I’m just withered. You once said that if you had your way, I’d own the universe. You don’t get it. When you became my best friend, I got it.
—  You once said
he likes to read

(this wants with all its heart to be a multichapter fic but i need instant gratification sooo)


He likes to read.

He likes to read and Kent likes him, and he really doesn’t know what to do about this fact.

Kent ran into him – well, ran past him, really – on a morning jog, in a usually deserted area of the community park where trees have been planted and are carefully watered to give the appearance of a verdant, lush grove in the middle of sunny, dusty Nevada. He was standing against a tree and reading, and when Kent jogged back to ask what he was doing, the man laughed and pointed to his book. Walden.

Kent’s never read it. The man shrugs. “It’s about a man who gave up his whole life to go live in the woods,” he says. “I used to go to Walden Pond and re-read it once a summer. But now I’m here and, well… this is as close to the woods as I can get.”

His name is James. He’s a high school English teacher. He shakes Kent’s sweaty hand and asks his name, what he does for a living.

Kent blinks at him hard. “You…” he starts. He was about to say, you don’t know?

“Me? You do me?” James cracks a smile. “Is that a pick-up line?”

His smile is sunny, and Kent breaks a little bit inside. He finds himself quickly enough to say, “Would it work?”

Keep reading

Jealous Girl.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Readers.

Warnings: SMUT. Jealousy, annoyed reader, PWP, unprotected sex (Kids, remmeber to wrap your presents). Public sex, me being a shameless hoe for Murder Daddy.

Word Count: 1262.

Rating: 18+

Masterlist

So… I wanted to write jealous reader. @sexylibrarian1 was ordering me to finish this so I could go and start writing that other thing (she knows what I’m talking about). Here you go, now you have something to complain about.

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The first time a boy told me, “you fight like a girl”, I was six years old. My answer was to kick him in the knee so hard he cried for the whole day.


The first time someone told me, “you are too fat to be pretty”, I was eleven years old and I didn’t eat dinner for a week. My mother didn’t know what was wrong. I soon learned that it didn’t matter if I didn’t eat, any girl–and yes, even the skinny girl whose ribs you can trace over the fabric of her shirt–thinks she is too fat to be pretty.


The first time someone told me, “you can’t be smarter than boys because it intimidates them”, I was sixteen. And it was the first time my heart broke.


They tell me girls should be polite, should sit with their legs closed, shouldn’t laugh too loud. Girls should be agreeable. Girls should act gracefully. Girls should walk straight with their heads high, but not too high, because you don’t want to be mistaken as too prideful. They say boys like girls who have brains but intelligence in a woman apparently doesn’t matter anymore if her chest size is big enough.


They tell me I’m too loud for a girl. Too headstrong, too stubborn. They say I have too many opinions. I dive too fast into arguments. They tell me I’m too rough and unrefined. Too big. Too brave. When a gentleman asks to carry my bag, I ask to carry his in return. They say I’m too smart, that I scare the boys away. They call me selfish when I think of myself first before I take into consideration a boy’s ego. They say I’m too much for a girl.


And for the life of me, I have never understood this. Why is the phrase “fight like a girl” an insult, when the cruelest and toughest fighters I know are all girls? Why must I close my legs when I sit and take care not to take up extra space while they sprawl their legs freely and act as if they own the place? As a teenager, why was I told to watch what I eat and be careful not to get fat while boys were considered “growing children” and were fed whatever they wanted? Why must I be any less than what a boy is, in order to be considered the perfect girl?


‘Girl’ does not always mean ‘soft’. It does not always mean dainty hands and curled eyelashes and pastel pink dresses. It does not always mean 'mellow’. 'Girl’ does not always mean an hourglass waistline. ‘Girl’ does not always mean 'fragile’. 'Girl’ does not equate to weakness. 'Girl’ is not an insult.  


If I have to be dumber than a man before he could consider loving me, then he is not the type of man I want to love anyway. I have no time to waste catering to a boy’s wounded pride. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have the figure of a model–my weight does not determine my worth as a person. I don’t need a man’s validation to consider myself beautiful. And yes, you know what? I am fat. I am fat and brilliant and stubborn and smart and headstrong and I fight without mercy and I sit with my legs apart and I walk fast with my chin up and my high heels clicking against the tiles with all the pride of a queen.


I am a hurricane of emotion, a jumbled mess of strengths and flaws, forever in the balancing act of 'too much’ and 'not enough’, I am a reckless dreamer with a titanium spine and a heart of glass.  


And I am a girl.


There is no reason I cannot be all of this at once.

—  define “girl”
Lights On

Anonymous asked: can you do an first meet encounter? it can end however you’d like!

A/N: I kinda combined this with the one where someone requested more smut?? Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, smut, oral (male receiving)

Originally posted by justcuchu

The cool summer nights were one of your favorite things about life at the moment. You made it a habit to come to this park and sit on the swing, sketching a picture out in the dim lighting of the moon. 

It calmed you, being able to watch people as dusk fell over the park and they began packing their things to go home. Soon enough, you were alone in the park and added shading to a drawing of the worn down park bench across from you that you had started a couple days ago. 

The chains that held the swing up creaked while your legs pushed your body back and forth, swaying softly with the wind. 

You heard rushed footsteps, causing you to slam your sketchbook closed and turn your attention to the sidewalk in front of you. 

Your heart was in your throat, suddenly aware of the creepy situation ahead of you. 

The footsteps walked in front of you, tripping over the raised concrete on the sidewalk. You held back a giggle, immediately stepping off the swing set and rushing to the person. 

“Are you okay?” You said, putting your hand on the stranger’s arm while they groaned in pain. 

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Someone once asked me, “how do you get over someone the universe didn’t let you be with?”
And it took me awhile to be able to put the right words together to answer.
People have a tendency to want things they can’t have - that includes people too, so it’s no surprise when you end up falling for someone who you’re not supposed to be with and by not supposed to be with I mean you try everything you can to your best ability to make it work but it won’t because let’s face it, you can’t force fate and if it isn’t meant to be - it won’t be. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like hell, I know. Having to accept the fact you can’t be with someone you’re completely in love with is one of the hardest things you’ll ever experience, however I’ll tell you one thing - you probably won’t listen because I mean, I didn’t listen when someone told it to me, but please for the love of god try your hardest to reframe from changing yourself in order to attempt to fit their idea of perfect. You are not the problem. Repeat that to yourself a million times if you have to. Reframe from dying your hair a different colour, don’t change your favourite make up routine because you think he’d like something different, don’t buy the dress you think he’d like more. Do not change yourself just because you don’t feel enough, it’ll only make you feel worse. There is someone out there who you will be more than enough for, wait for them. Do not change yourself to fit someone else because once the universe takes them away to keep you on your destined path - he won’t be there anymore, all you’ll have is you. And that’s a pretty lonely experience if you don’t even know who the hell you are.
—  Excerpt of a book I’ll never write
Show Me Your Heart And I'll Show You Mine - Part 1

Parring: Bucky X Reader

Word: 596

Warnings: none

Summary: Soulmate!Au where the bruises, tattoos and drawings on our skin shows up on your soulmates

A/N: I’M BAAAACK!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Originally posted by thesazzerdazzer

The first time you saw it, you were sitting in class. It was a math class in first grade, and it was your classmate that pointed it out to you. But as soon as he had said it, you couldn’t stop looking at the flower that blossomed on your arm. Quickly you grabbed a pen, and wrote down: HI on your wrist. With one the drawing stopped. A long line went from the end of the petal across your arm, as if your soulmate had been surprised.

You smiled and waited, but nothing came. The line had started to disappear, and the skin around it became red, as if your soulmate rubbed it off. It didn’t work.

HI they finally wrote back, and you quickly began to scribble on your arm.

 

You sat with your friends at a coffee shop when the date appeared.

22/8

You frowned, and asked your friends if they had a pen. They laughed at you, asked if it was lover boy, and then gave you one.

What’s happening there?

Sabrina leaned towards you to look at your arm while you waited for his response. You looked up at her, and smiled innocently at you.

“What? Mine won’t write to me” She said, before Emma on the other side of you pointed to your arm.

English paper due:(

But at least I got you to talk to now

You laughed when you saw the message, which caused four girls to lean over to see your arm. Emma looked questioning at you, but you didn’t even try to explain it. They didn’t really know Bucky like you did. But hey, he wasn’t their soulmate.

 

You sighed. Your eyes drifted away from the paper and book in front of you, and up to the clock. You scratched your head, before you started drawing on your arm. You tried to draw an elephant, but it ended up looking like a misshaped giraffe.

What is that?

You smiled at the question that had appeared on your hand, before you wrote an answer.

It’s an elephant! Can’t you see that?

You didn’t get an answer, instead lines started to appear around your giraffe, almost changing it into an elephant. You grinned, before writing two words more on your arm.

Fair enough

 

“Why does my soulmate never write to me? “Will asked as he looked at the lines that appeared on your arm.

“You do write together! He’s just busy with exams! “Sabrina said while studying the pattern on your arm, that you were currently colouring.

“And It sucks” Will said with a sigh.

“Why don’t you just write something to him?” you asked without taking your eyes off your arm. “Good luck or something? “

“That’s easy for you to say” Will sighed, but you didn’t answer. A few words had appeared on your arm.

I’ve thought of something

"See? “Will said.

“Oh, stop complaining! “Sabrina said and smacked his arm, before turning her attention to you again. “Answer him!”

What?

You could feel your palms get sweaty. You were rarely talked about serious stuff, and this didn’t exactly sound like a joke.

I’m going to ask you something

The six words appeared, and you bit your lip, but the writing didn’t stop.

Promise you won’t get mad?

“Jeez, it sounds like he’s gonna propose to you!” Sabrina said.

“I hope he does! Then you can both come and visit me in fifty years when I live alone with three dogs! “Will said dramatically, but you were already busy answering your soulmate.

Of course, what is it?

Block my driveway? I'll go ahead and take your vehicles.

(warning: long story)

Friday night here in the country can get a little crazy sometimes so I don’t mind when my neighbors cause a ruckus or loud party as long as its not too crazy. Tonight I’m on call for Virginia State Police towing rotation which means I’ve got 25 minuets to get to where ever the wreck/DUI/impound/etc is.

As luck would have it, my neighbors are having a party and guess what’s blocking my driveway? That’s right, about 25-30 cars. I live down a dirt road at the end of a cul-de-sac, and its pretty narrow. One in one out type of deal, and with this rain we’ve been having, parking in the grass/clay/mud is really not the best idea. Even with a 4x4 it can still get tricky.

I noticed a few cars coming in early this evening and walked over to my neighbors and made it pretty clear I was on call and as long as they didn’t block the road or my driveway all would be good. No problems here. Well I get a call from my boss asking if I can go warm-up the Rotator and the light duty flatbed (tow trucks). Its about 12:30AM so I get my boots on and other gear because if I’m up I might as well stay at the shop and clean a few things to stay busy and make the night move along.

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anonymous asked:

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” spideypool!!

Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.

So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined. 

Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.

He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.

Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot. 

Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.

Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard. 

Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.

Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.

But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–

Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.

Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.

After two rings, he got an answer.

“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.

“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.

The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.

Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”

“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”

“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”

There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.

“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.

“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”

“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.

Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him. 

Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address. 

I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.

Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.

“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.

Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”

Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”

Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.

Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”

“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”

That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”

Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.

But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”

Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”

Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.

After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.

“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.

“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”

Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”

“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”

Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”

“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.

“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”

Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”

Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”

“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”

“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”

Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.

Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”

“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”

Wade.”

Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.

Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years. 

chat-en-rose  asked:

Greenie, give me your rant about why nintendo never goes for the explicit zelink ending (explicit as them holding hands or kissing, not something nsfw)

Alrighty then. HERE I GO! THIS is going to be LONG. LOL

I believe it’s because Nintendo (and by Nintendo I mean Miyamoto and Aonuma, after all they kinda have the last say in the LoZ games LOL) are fully convinced that it’s us, the players, that join the dots, which is why they don’t feel the need to go all the way.

Not to mention, that they’re old conservative japanese men and like to keep romance… more like in the background/shadows (???) and focus more on the gameplay and stuff. I mean, after all, the games are not romance oriented specifically.

BUT! they have included moments between this two. 

Examples:

We know something happened at the end of Link’s Adventure behind that curtain

And Zelda (at the end of oracle of ages) gave Link a kiss. A kiss that both of them quite enjoyed. 

*with hearts and all hahaha so cute!* 

With recent games, for example skyward sword, Aonuma expressed his doubts in regards of this scene:

At first he wasn’t so sure, but after some talks, he decided that it was ok to include it. I remember him saying something along the lines “are we really taking this lovey-dovey route for this game”?  and at the end, he was truly happy that they included this scene in the game (and I’m sure zelink fans around the world also felt the same way). 

We all know how this game ends. Zelda asking Link what he wants to do and he  just smiles at her. I think it’s obvious which was his answer hehe… After all, he fought with his life, in order to be with her again. My take is that Nintendo felt they’ve done enough for us to understand, that they went from best friends to lovers.

Also, in other games such a Spirit Tracks and Phantom Hourglass, their interactions are quite adorable. Personally, I LOVE Spirit Tracks. You can be with Zelda for almost 99% of the game…. and you really get to know her. You can also control her (and she’s a badass with that Phantom armor!) 

But, what I love the most is how innocent and pure their bond is. Once Zelda regains her body, she hugs Link and his reaction is so adorable ;A; 

He blushes hehe (he also blushed when he first met her btw). 

And once they defeated the baddies., they hold hands while watching Anjean go to heaven. In fact, the camera makes a close up of their hands:

A part of me, feels that Nintendo’s intention is to keep it fresh. Like, the implications that there’s something going on between them are there. They exist. Link and Zelda are not a crack pairing. Nintendo has provided enough canon material in the games for us, like I mentioned earlier, to join the dots

For example, in  Skyward Sword and if you explore Link’s room and check his desk you’ll notice that he sculpts wooden statures. He has one unfinished bird on his desk with a hammer and chisel and a couple statues on his furniture. And also, if you go to Zelda’s room you’ll notice that SHE’S the only character he has given his work to, because she has a statue of a loftwing in her room. There are no other characters in the game that have this statues. I even visited everyone is Skyloft to be sure. 

That’s Nintendo’s subtle way of telling us that there’s something special going on between them.

Do I want to see them kiss? HEL YEAH I DO!!!,  but I would lie if I said that I do not appreciate details  such as this one, that strengthen their relationship. 

t’s just like Zelda’s diary in breath of the wild. To be honest, at first I felt dissapointed that Link was so serious all the time. But after reading her diary and watching all the memories in order… I felt that I finally was able to understand his character a bit more, thanks to what she said about him. 

He isn’t a guy whose gonna blush over something. He’s pretty good at hidding his emotions because, people always had high expectations of him… So, the only way he found to keep people happy, was by keeping all his fears to himself. In fact, it’s pretty interesting  what the stupid guy whose wandering outside Gerudo town tells you (after you get the sand and snow boots from him).  He says that Link is a cold and calcuating person and he adds, that he’s also actually quite strong. I couldn’t agree more with that guy.

I mean, being LIKE THAT is pretty much what saved both him and Zelda from Calamity Ganon first attack. He didn’t let the sorrow of the death of his friend (Daruk, Mipha, Urbosa and Revali) get the best of him…. Or to watch Hyrule’s Kingdom get destroyed in a blink of an eye.

His main focus was to protect what’s important for him to the point of giving his life… And he did.  He died protecting her. 

And what truly touches my heart is that, he always believed in her. Even when they were running away from all those guardians, his top priority was to keep her safe. He never saw her just as a “weapon” to seal Ganon away (kinda like the King did)… He always saw her as what she was. Even Impa tells us that, Link became Zelda’s comfort during the times she wasn’t capable of using her power. 

So… In conclusion. Even if I’m dying to see a kiss between them… A wedding and for them to give me granchildren (LOL)… I’m happy with what we have of them. They’re not the typical ship and for me, that’s what makes them so special. 

Hopefully we’ll see them kiss again ;A; Nintendo plz understand

Sleepless Nights, touken headcanon/mini-fic

Summary: It’s their first time sleeping together on the same bed and Kaneki can’t take his hands off Touka.

I totally hate this, it looked so much better inside my head, my inspiration sucks—i’m super tired right now& i can’t speak proper english today, but i really wanted to take this idea off my head AAAAND give this to @yorozuya-ken-chan as her birthday gift 😭 ♡ I LOVE YOU ANITA, this is so crappy, i’m so sorry -sobs- i promise i’ll write you something 2369726 better next time, WAIT FOR ME🙏 (the only good thing about this is the ending, huehue, jon&ygritte hints)

i wanted to make this a smut but i really feel like the words aren’t coming to my head today, so this is just… a bit lime? not even a lime 😂  shame on me.. anyway, take this more like a lazy headcanon instead of a well-written fic *sobs* i’ll bring good smut soon.. I promise, ANITA DESERVES BETTER ✨

Preview

“Kaneki.”

“Y-Yes?” he stammers.

“If you want me to sleep with you in your room, just say it.”

He’s shaking.

“Oh, w-well…”

“Do you?”

He swallows.

“I-I mean, if you ever feel col—“

Touka sighs.

“Fine. I’ll sleep with you tonight then.”

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I'll Be A Better Man Today - Reggie Mantle x Reader

Summary: Reader breaks up with Reggie after he refuses to stop harassing Jughead. Every attempt to get her back fails, so he comes up with a plan to knock her off her feet.
Requested: Yes
Warnings: None, apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes.
A/N: I am doing this in two parts, as when I started writing it, it become longer than I had planned it. Hope you enjoy!

**
Jughead didn’t miss the way you determinedly ignored your boyfriend of almost nine months as you passed him in the hallway, at half eight Monday morning.

Greeting your best friend, he also noticed you didn’t make eye contact with him. He watched you fumbling with the combination lock, eyes narrowed. Across the hall, Reggie Mantle, the aforementioned boyfriend, approached slowly. Jughead steeled himself for the usual barrage of insults - but they never came.

‘Hey, (Y/N)?’ He called your name softly, face downcast and eyes sad. You ignored him. Jughead frowned, confusion on his face. Reggie tried again to get your attention.

’(Y/N), can we talk, please?’ His voice weighed with sorrow, even Jughead almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

‘I have to get to class,’ you finally spoke, slamming the locker shut with a loud clang, turning to Jughead and tugging him down the corridor. Leaving behind Reggie, who watched you walk away with a pain in his chest.

'Wanna tell me what that was about?’ Jughead asked, stopping you with a hand on your elbow. You swallowed thickly, emotion welling up in your eyes, your throat tight. 'I broke up with Reggie last night,’ you managed to get the words out with some semblance of strength; Jughead’s eyes widened, surprise like ice-water, shocking him deeply. 'What? Why?’

'He’s a bully, Jug,’ you reminded him, sounding tired. 'And I can’t - I don’t want to be with someone like that,’ you confessed, biting your lip in an effort to hold back the tears that stung in your eyes. Jughead’s face softened; any other circumstances, he would have been glad that his best friend was away from the self-obsessed captain of the football team. However, he could see it in your face, how much you were hurting - and, to be fair to Reggie, even if he could he an ass, he was never anything but a loving, kind boyfriend to you.

’(Y/N)…’ he started, feeling guilty, if you had broken not only Reggie’s heart, but your own, for his sake… you immediately held up a hand to stop him. 'Jughead, no. I didn’t do it because of you, I just …’ a heavy sigh followed before you continued, shaking your head. 'I can’t be the girl who dates the asshole jock, anymore. Just because I lo-’ you cut yourself off with a choked sound, and Jughead’s arm immediately came to wrap around your shoulder, comfortingly. 'Just because I care about him, doesn’t mean I can condone his actions.’

Jughead pulled you in for a proper hug then, squeezing you tightly. The affectionate gesture was all it took for the dam to burst. Suddenly, you were a sobbing wreck, head buried in the taller boys chest. He guided you to a empty classroom, and let you sit through the agonising heartbreak you felt deep inside.

**

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Reggie approached you a few more times, begging for a minute to talk. Each time, you turned your back and walked away. It was just too much to handle, seeing his face, eyes glazed and eyelashes clinging together with unshed tears. If you even looked at him, just once, you knew it would be the end of you. Veronica and Betty banded together, forming a human shield against your ex - Archie getting angry by the final bell and almost starting a fist fight. Jughead managed to calm him down; 'It’ll only make (Y/N) feel worse.’
You wanted to protest; surely nothing could equal how this felt, to be so close to Reggie but so far away. You kept your mouth shut. You kept your eyes glued to the floor.

Even at home, you were granted no relief. He showed up at the front door, clutching a bouquet of daisies, your favourites. Your father answered, you lurking at the top of the stairs, just out of sight. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a moment, the door closed again. Sitting on the top step, your dad looked up to you, smiling sadly. He showed you the flowers, tied with a blue string. You fell apart again. A note was attached to the stem, and you took it to your room, the lingering scent of his familiar cologne lingering on the envelope.

You read, and reread, and reread, the letter penned in black ink, unmistakably Reggie’s handwriting. You read it until you knew it off by heart, until you could still see the uneven letters when you closed your eyes. Your phone buzzed relentlessly, with pleading messages and voicemails, and concerned texts from the gang. Eventually, you turned it off, crawling under the covers of your bed and switching off the lights. Sleep came surprisingly easy, you felt drained, almost hollow, from the strain of ignoring Reggie and putting on a smile for the sake of your friends.

**

Tap, tap, tap.

You moaned; rolling over and finding the cool side of the bed. Smiling in your sleep, you relaxed into the mattress.

Tap, tap, tap.

The knocking dragged you, unwillingly, from your rest. You blinked, a yawn wrestling itself out of your mouth.

Tap, tap, tap.

You shot up, the source of the noise hitting you like a truck. You glanced toward your window, the blinds still open, as you hadn’t had the energy to pull them down earlier. In the dim light of the street lamps, you could just about make out Reggie’s face through the pane of glass. Shuffling across the floor, you lifted it up a few inches, folding your arms against the sudden breeze.

’(Y/N),’ he breathed out, voice rough. It was hard to ignore the shiver the sound of it caused down your spine.

'Reggie, I told you yesterday,’ you whispered, 'I have nothing to say to you.’
'Please, baby, can we just talk?’ He begged, and this time he didn’t hold back his tears, tanned face slick with saltwater.
'There’s nothing to talk about,’ the struggle to keep your emotion in check was one you were starting to lose. Putting your hands against the window again, Reggie pressed his palm to the glass. 'Please, (Y/N), please. I can’t lose you. Just - just give me a second chance!’

Your resolve threatened to crumble, the break in his voice like a sharp edge digging into your gut. With all the strength you could muster, you shook your head. 'You haven’t done anything to prove you deserve one.’

With that, you shut the window, stepping away and pulling the blinds down. You couldn’t see, but Reggie had really fallen apart when you shut yourself away from him. His forehead fell to rest against the cool glass, chest heaving with sobs, his whole body shaking so hard he almost lost his balance on the ledge.

Meanwhile, you had climbed back into your bed, turning over your pillow and burying your face into it. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You couldn’t believe you had shut him down so harshly. While guilt settled in the pit of your belly, you reaffirmed to yourself that it was the right thing to do. Reggie was, at his core, a kind person. However, he wore armour so thick in public it took a lot to shed it all away to get to that kind person. You’d begged him so many times, to stop harassing Jughead, and Reggie had made promises he obviously couldn’t keep. You fell back asleep, eventually, knowing you’d need all your strength to face the following day.

“Are you over him?” She asked, eyes expectant. “It’s been a year after all”

I caught her unrelenting gaze as I pretended to think. Of course the answer was on the tip of my tongue before she’d even finished her question. No. No I’m not over him. Yes I still think about him and yes I still love him. I mean sure, I’ve become more independent now, I’ve learnt to love myself more and I’ve achieved things I never would have had I been tied down in a relationship. There have been days, weeks or even whole months when I’ve been sure I was over him. When I was sure he’d finally become just another person in this world. I’d wake up smiling at the happy, independent and empowered person I’d become. I would smile at the world for taking him out of me and teaching me that I can be whole all by myself. But then there are days when I think of him and I wonder what would happen if he just turned up. If he just walked into the room right now I know, against all the strength I have gained without him, I would crumble. My eyes would pour into those boring brown eyes and my hands would reach out searching for the fingertips that always pulled me home. There’s a love inside of me that knows only him, and it would fill me to the brim and I’d feel full again. More full than I’ve felt in ages. So no, I am not over him. Tell me how can I get over a love that refuses to leave. How can I get over him when despite doing all that I should to forget him, all it takes is the sight of him to bring me so helplessly back to him.

“Yes, yes of course I’m over him” I lied.
“It’s been a year after all”.

Coherent

College AU. It started by unintentionally flashing your underwear for all to see in a cafe, now the university’s biggest player and asshole wouldn’t leave you alone.

Pairing: Asshole!Bucky Barnes x Reader | Steve Rogers x Reader
Based on: Muddled
Author’s Note: The fandom is getting an assholish version of Bucky that gets whipped by love in my series Muddled. This is the prequel/outtake of that one, so head over there and read it! Tagging for this is limited. 

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Don’t Leave Me

Request: Hey! Just found you’re account a few days ago, and I was just wondering if I could request? I honestly love your write so much. ❤️ if you could wright a newt scamander imagine where Newt leaves the reader for Leta (set in hogwarts) and they don’t talk until like some point? Idk. please make it angst but with a happy ending? Thanks!

Word Count: 2,288

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @caseoffics and @red-roses-and-stories

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


You spot Newt’s lanky frame curled up in the grassy spot near the lake, knees against his chest and hands around his knees as he stares out over the water, His shaggy hair blows like the waves in the breeze. You can’t fight your smile as you watch him absentmindedly brush his hair from his eyes. You reach into your pocket, forgetting that your gift is back in your room, hidden between the pages of your transfiguration textbook. You remind yourself that it’s only one more day before you can give it to him. One more day.

He doesn’t hear you approaching, jumping at your voice when you call out to him.

“There you are.” The words are a routine, a joke from nearly a year ago when Newt had approached you with shaking hands.

Newt starts to stand, but stops when you shake your head and toss your books onto the ground, plopping down next to him. “Here I am.” He says, scooting over as you take his hand.

“Studied any amazing creatures lately? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

Newt’s smile is small. “It’s only been a week and a half.”

You raise your eyebrows and lean back. “Sure feels like forever.”

Newt stares at your joined hands. “Maybe.”

The breeze slows, leaving only the warm sunshine to brush your face. “It’s beautiful out. I hope it stays this way for tomorrow.”

“About tomorrow…”

You don’t notice the change in Newt’s tone as you chatter on. “Wow, can you believe it’s been a year? Isn’t a picnic the perfect way to celebrate a year together?”

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