my life is what this soup is

You roll into a small town early in the evening, go to the local diner and order a steak off the menu. You’re brought soup. You are confused. You look around you and you notice everyone else is being given soup, yet are still ordering a variety of things from the menu. You think it’s a joke but upon a second look of the menu it is merely all soup. The chefs special is Soup soup with soup. You bring it up to a waitress. She seems startled by your accusation. She asks another person at another table what they ordered. They say soup and then have a startled look on their face. Everyone within earshot begins to panic and ask eachother what is going on. The room descends into chaos. You try to leave through the front door. But there is only soup.

The Crows Against the Common Cold

I have a cold so I’m inspired.

Matthias: sleeps it right off. Takes him max two days to get rid of it. Coughs maybe once. This pisses Nina offffff. Rises and shines like the secret tulip he is. “Cold? What cold? I live in the ice.”

Nina: loathes being sick. Even just the sniffles. Doesn’t want to be seen except not really. Could she eliminate it with her heart rending? Probably. But she won’t because everyone lavishes attention on her and she LOVES IT. Mattias babies her and so does Inej. Milks it as long as she can #DramaQueen

Jesper: Also #DramaQueen. But actually grumpier than Nina can be because he has to rest to get better and what is rest??? Loves Wylan taking care of him though. Very verbal about being cut down in the prime of life by the cold while wylan just shakes his head and spoon feeds him soup.

Wylan: (brought to you by my friend betterthanwaffles). Tries to hide being sick. Doesn’t want people to know because Jan Van DICK would get mad at him and call him weak. Not sure how Jesper found out, but suddenly Wy’s tucked in bed with blankets and tissues up to the gills. *cough cough Kaz told Jesper*

Kuwei: wants Jesper’s attention but he’s getting over it. Knows chemistry so well he can usually shake the cold quickly with different concoctions. Very quiet while sick. Sucks on cough drops obsessively.

Inej: tries to go about her business. Doesn’t exactly hide it, but doesn’t want a fuss. Nina wants to fuss so bad, so Inej avoids her as much as she can. Then Kaz hears her cough while trying to sneak in his office and he sends her straight to bed and sics Nina on her. Says it’s because he can’t afford a Wraith who gives herself away sneezing everywhere. Actually he is in love and brings her medicines and tissues on the sly. She knows.

Kaz: immune. The germs just burst into microscopic flame.

anonymous asked:

Soup your art has such life to it, can i get advice on drawing, my art looks to dead. Your have nice lines in your drawings very soft, what do you use?

im not sure what you mean by life? :’o sorry

generally what i always say to people is to try and use the line of action to get your poses more lifelike, and for the lines try practicing with quick single strokes instead of several rough sketchy lines

also personally i use a lot of curves^ but im not sure if thats what u meant

The Elsewhere Child

He was supposed to take my memories when he brought me here, the seelie knight, who had been commanded to escort me home with a simple “take it away, it’s too old now and it bores me” from the noble who had kept me for the past while. I traded him my singing voice for them though, and now where once sweet music poured from my lips only hoarse and untuned notes fall out without any of the tempo or melody they had before. Now I think I made a bad trade. It might have been better, if I didn’t remember, or remembered something else entirely.

I stare at the boy next to me in the circle, I was asked to join this circle as a way to make me feel part of something, part of a circle. They call the circle a support group for abducted children. Children who were abducted and got away, that is, I don’t think there’s a support group for those currently abducted. Their abductors wouldn’t allow them to attend, I suppose. The boy is speaking about the man who touched him, speaking of the horrible way he loved that man, because he was a child, and he had to love someone. Are his memories true? Or is he like me? Did a faerie take him away, and replace the memories from Under the Hill with these tragedies? Why? Did he commit some crime? I cannot say.

I am fascinated by the girl who sits next to the girl directly across from me in the circle. She tells us to call her Angie. She wears ratty clothes, not the sort of poor chic that seems to be an underlying trend, with jackets made of patches and ribbed cloth sold at malls, but real grunge. The tears in her sleeves reveal razor scars, her hair is short, she wants to look tough, she wants people to cross the street to get away from her when they see her coming. She is not tough. She is nervous, always nervous, always afraid, though she hides it well. None of these things are too interesting to me, those things I can see anywhere, but I thought context would be important so that the fact that she’s a pathological liar would not be the only thing you knew about her.

She is a pathological liar.

Her lies fascinate me.

After group chat, I take her aside and we talk, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, and I watch her fabricate thousands of untruths, from tiny white ones to huge fantastical ones as bright and colorful as her life has never been. Some days, I believe everything she says and some days I question each word, trying to figure out her secret.

It’s a strange thing, I was taken before I really knew my name, and each faerie that’s kept me (I was a pet for them) called me something different. Do I even have a true name? I’ve been Jane Doe since I showed up, stumbling barefoot and confused into a police station moments after midnight (at least the knight knew to leave me near a place of authority), so I’ve been introducing myself as Roe, like the deer. They ran my DNA through the missing children’s database (I didn’t understand what that was at first, was shocked at how closely humans had approximated magic with computers), but there was no match. I told them I didn’t know how long ago I’d been abducted, and suggested that it might have been before the database was made. They laughed and said I was eighteen, and DNA technology had been around much longer than me. I tried to explain that time was different where I had been kept, but they simply patted me on my head and told me they were sure that it seemed that way to me at the time.

They stared at me worriedly when one of them brought me a McDonald’s Happy Meal, and I asked what she wanted for it. She told me nothing. No one here ever asks for anything besides courtesy in return for their food, but old habits are hard to break. Even now, in my foster home, I cannot help insisting that my hosts confirm that this food is a gift freely given. They asked me to help them cook and I broke down in tears because there was a cast iron skillet on the stove (“Please don’t make me, iron burns, iron burns, and it gets under your skin and makes you go grey and lifeless like a flower severed from its roots, plea-please, please don’t make me”). It took them an hour to convince me that they weren’t trying to force me to poison myself, and the food burned (“I said I would help you, you asked me to cook and I agreed, but, but please don’t make me, it burns, it’ll burn me!” “It’s alright darling, you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.” “But I said I would! It was an oath!” “We’re sorry, we wouldn’t have asked if we’d known it would upset you, you can help some other way if you like.” “You… absolve me of my oath?” “Yes, of course we do darling!”).

I am more comfortable with iron now, I am not one of the Fair Folk, after all, it will not harm me. Correction, a blade of iron would harm me, but not because it was made of iron. It does, however, mess with my glamor.

It is a difficult thing, growing up bathed in magic and yet to have none of your own. A pixie once spoke of how she envied my hair, and I said, on impulse, “do you want it?” So a trade was made. She gave me the ability to change my appearance, and she walked away with my hair. I expected my hair to grow back after a time though… it did not. With my glamor I can have the appearance of having whatever hair I please, and sometimes I change it daily, but when I sleep or when iron is near my bare head is revealed. It is assumed by my hosts and everyone around me that I have many wigs, I have told them I do not, but they don’t believe in magic, so they insist on believing this instead.

I hide when I hear thunder, duck into a bathroom and put everything on backward and inside out if I’m in public, or simply sit quiet if I’m home. The first time I did this, it shook me to my core when someone told me “You know, your shirt is on backward.” I started to panic, until I realized that I could see myself too. It was a revelation, discovering that there was something humans could see that the Good Neighbors couldn’t.

It still boggles my mind how much people throw away, tears and menstrual blood caught on napkins, or gifts from that one aunt that they held onto for so long for the sentimental value but can’t keep now because they have to move into a smaller apartment, or the shirt they can’t wear anymore because it smells like their ex. They could trade these items to faeries for so many things, and yet they simply throw them away. What a waste.

My hosts insisted I should have a proper education, and after three years of homeschooling (to get me caught up) I applied to attend the local state college. There I found more people who fascinate me the way Angie does. There’s Lisa, who fights for animal rights, and Kyle, the leader of the Gay Straight Alliance group, and Riley, who’s going into the Peace Corps next year because they want to help the world. I ask them all the time why they do what they do, what they expect to get back, and they tell me that ideally they’ll make the world a better place, and that will pay them back eventually, but that they don’t do it for what they’ll get back, they do it because it’s right. I don’t understand. There’s Cheyenne, who always gets into intense political debates with other people over dinner in the cafeteria, and she believes so intensely about things that don’t even affect her, and she fights for them, and she tells me she does this because it’s right, and I don’t understand. I’ve never met anyone who cared about anything other than themselves Under the Hill. Faeries can’t lie, they can’t go back on their word, they honor their deals and make sure you honor them too, they repay debts and ensure they’re repaid in turn, they amuse themselves playing or squabbling over power, but they do not do things for free. They don’t care about things for free. They don’t defend the innocent, protect the weak, or forgive the ignorant. The culture shock coming here is bewildering.

If I could I’d honor my debts, leave a pile of gold at the doorstep of everyone who’s done me a kindness, but I have not the magic to do so. The drainage ponds hold no sirens, the falling snow has no frolicking pixies between its flakes, there is no magic for me to use here… or is there?

Perhaps I can’t call upon the magic Under the Hill, perhaps I can’t summon gold or make deals with darklings, but I can find magic here, I’ve seen others do it. I’ve seen a moon so beautiful it sends shivers down your spine captured by a little lense-box and put onto thick shiny paper. I’ve seen songs and stories written with such emotion that it moves those who hear them to tears, to laughter, to dancing, to life. I’ve seen kitchen witches cure colds with hot chicken soup, and I’ve seen holy men ward off tricksters they can’t even see with the power of their belief.

Perhaps I can find a way to create my own magic, and do what other people seem to strive to do to repay their debts. Perhaps I can make the world a better place, and learn the magic of humanity. And as for the places where magic does live? Where the boundary between worlds is thin and the drainage ponds and snowflakes carry faerie magic within? …I think I’ll be staying far away, for my part. I might still have a lot to learn, but I think I like it better here.

Im so in love with you // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Shawn accidentally tells Y/N he loves her

Requested: yeeees

Authors note:


“SHAWN move it, the movie’s starting,” I yell, the sound echoing around our small, shared apartment.

“I’m coming women, calm it down,” Shawn calls back from the kitchen, emerging seconds later with two cans of coke in his grasp.

“Ooh yes please,” I reach for the drink and Shawn cheekily moves his hand out of my range. I glare at him as he chuckles, flopping himself down on the couch next to me. Immediately I crawl across onto his lap, sprawling my body across his and making myself at home.

“Comfy there?” Shawn asks, popping the lid to each can, handing me mine. 

“Defiantly,” I reply, resting my head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his arm sneaking around my back to lay on my hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I chose It’s a boy girl thing, hope you don’t mind,” I mumble, intently starring at the screen.

“It’s fine, as long as you like it,” Shawn murmurs back, taking a sip of his drink.


15 minutes later we’re both chuckling at the romantic comedy. 

“That reminds me,” I say right after a funny moment, turning my gaze on Shawn. “Someone said a really funny joke in class today and I have to tell you,”

“Shoot,” Shawn says, gaze falling on me, the movie forgotten in the background as we both get absorbed in each other and the topic.

“Right so, whats the difference- th-the… difference,” I start laughing, unable to control the giggles spilling out of my mouth.

“Y/n,” Shawn whines, pulling me closer to him as I wheeze with laughter. 

“Sorry,” I gasp, finally managing to calm down. “What’s the difference between roast beef and pea soup?” 

We stare at each other, the movie filling the silence. I raise my eyebrows at him, waiting for the answer and he rolls his eyes.

“What is the difference Y/n?” He asks, a grin escaping onto his face.

“You can roast beef but you can’t pea soup,” I grin, waiting for him to start laughing. Instead, we just end up starring at each other again, me looking hopeful at him and Shawn starring blankly back.

“That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard in my life,” 

“You’re the worst thing I’ve heard of in my life,” 

Shawn laughs, squeezing my side gently making me squirm in his grip.

“Take that back right now,”  Shawn demands, squeezing my hip again.

“Make me,” I argue, laughing at his touch.

“You asked for it,” With that he flings me underneath him, quickly covering my body with his as he straddles me and begins tickling my sides.

“NO, Shawn!” I laugh, or more like cackle at his merciless attack.

“Say Shawn is the best thing to happen to me in my life,” he says, trying to look stern but the grin on his face does the opposite.

“My mum told me to never lie,” I tease back as his tickling ceases for a second.

“You little,” His hands resume and I gasp, trying to get air into my lungs as I laugh.

“Okay, I’m joking, I’m joking,” 

“Say it!” He laughs, watching me wriggle, trying to get out of his embrace.

“Shawn is the best thing to ever happen to me,” I cry, laughing hard.

“Damn I right I am,” he laughs, stopping his attack.

“Damn right you are,” I giggle, reaching up to kiss his cheek swiftly.

“God I’m so in love you,”

I freeze, eyes snapping to meet his alarmed ones. Redness quickly begins to creep onto his cheeks and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

“I, um,” Shawn avoids my eyes.

“Did you just say I love you?” I ask, just in case I heard wrong.

“I… yeah,” He mumbles, pulling himself off me and sitting up. “I didn’t mean to, it just kind of slipped out,” He tries to justify.

“Was not expecting that,” I try to joke but Shawn still isn’t meeting my eyes. My gaze softens, noticing how much those three words have effected him.

“Hey,” I say softly, running my hand across his back in soft comforting movements.

“I’m sorry if I ruined everything,” He says, meeting my eyes briefly.

“It’s fi-”

“Honestly, before I could even think I was just saying it,”

“Shawn its-”

“I know we’ve only been dating for a couple weeks but we were friends for quite a while beforehand so its understandable for me to feel this way about you-”

“Shawn I love you too,” I almost scream, frustrated that he wasn’t listening.

“You do?” his whole face lights up at my words.

“Of course I do, you’re the best thing to happen to me remember?” I smirk, creeping closer to his body.

“Mmhm, that’s true,” and he’s back to himself, the nervous Shawn gone in a blink of an eye. “I love you,” Shawn smiles, my heartbeat going a million miles a minute, then presses his lips upon mine.

Les Amis & Co. as ways I procrastinated studying in the last days
  • Enjolras:  There was a protest right outside my flat and they kept yelling slogans, distracting me.
  • Combeferre: I spent half an hour discussing the reasons of the protest with my flatmates and why it was counter-productive, 
  • Courfeyrac: I danced with my roommate to cheesy 90s songs 
  • Joly: I watched a video about how to survive a bear attack because you never know what might happen in the middle of a city. 
  • Bossuet: I made myself a cup of tea but while I was going back to the desk I hit my pinky toe and spilled the tea all over the book. 
  • Feuilly: I cleaned the flat because it looked like a dump.
  • Bahorel: My flatmates were discussing law and I just listened to them even though I was falling asleep. 
  • Jehan: I argued with my flatmates who want to convince me to wear fancy clothes tonight even if I don’t feel like it.
  • Grantaire: I wasted my time thinking “Studying this is pointless, I still won’t be able to make anything good in my life.” 
  • Eponine: I had left my book in the living room but in the corridor there was a person I didn’t feel like talking to, so I waited for them to go away. 
  • Musichetta: My flatmate was sick, so I made her a soup and a hot tea. 
  • Montparnasse: Someone stole my flatmate’s Nutella and we tried to identify the guilty parties.
  • Cosette: I argued with my flatmates because “No, girls, I don’t feel at ease going to a male strip club. Oh, the guest star is a famous porn star? Great. I still don’t want to come, thank you?”. 
  • Marius: I just spent some time headbutting the desk.
  • BONUS: Victor Hugo: I wasted my time writing this post. 

Do you ever feel like breaking down?
Do you ever feel out of place like somehow you just don’t belong and no one understands you?
Do you ever wanna run away?
Do you lock yourself in your room with the radio on turned up so loud that no one hears you’re screaming?
No, you don’t know what it’s like When nothing feels all right
You don’t know what it’s like To be like me

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you’re down
To feel like you’ve been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one’s there to save you
No, you don’t know what it’s like
Welcome to my life

Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more
Before your life is over?
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you’re bleeding

No, you don’t know what it’s like
When nothing feels all right
You don’t know what it’s like
To be like me

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you’re down
To feel like you’ve been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one’s there to save you
No you don’t know what it’s like
Welcome to my life

No one ever lied straight to your face
And no one ever stabbed you in the back
You might think I’m happy but I’m not gonna be okay
Everybody always gave you what you wanted
You never had to work it was always there
You don’t know what it’s like, what it’s like

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you’re down
To feel like you’ve been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one’s there to save you
No, you don’t know what it’s like (What it’s like)

To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you’re down
To feel like you’ve been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one’s there to save you
No, you don’t know what it’s like.

—  Welcome to my life, Simple Plan
They Wanna Make Me Their Queen

( Prompt: princess diaries style “I grew up not knowing I was royal and suddenly my royal grandparent showed up out of nowhere and told me I was so now I guess I’m the heir to the throne and you’re my crush from my pre-royal days but I still have a crush on you” AU ) 

PART 4

A/N: Two words: Lip-sync battle. SLAY TOM, SLAY. I WAS WEIRDLY TURNED ON BY HIS PERFORMANCE?? LIKE. I WOULD DO HIM IN THE SUIT, AND I WOULD DO HIM IN DRAG, AND I AM CRYING. That being said, if anyone wants to fangirl with me over Tom, please hit me up. I need more friends to fangirl with!! ( I also need a date with him ASAP. ) In other news, this was very heavily influenced by that scene in Catching Fire. Matt Murdock, the dumpster ninja, will be showing up in a few more chapters, and I cannot wait. :)))

Taglist (temporary): @theactualscarletwitch | @moonlight53 | @intohook | @alaskayoung-x | @kubby14679 | @clean-and-claire | @fandoms-broke-my-life | @johnmurphys-sass |@queenofthelavalamps | @sharenaloveyoux | @mcheung0314 | @lionfart | @skorii

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 |@tanglefire |@midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human | @tacklemyackles | @fangeekkk | @beamagtuto | @captainaudreystark


You leave the room – and the after party – without delay. Your walk is more of a stagger as the amount of champagne you’ve consumed just minutes before becomes apparent. Too much. And yet, not nearly enough. You move as calmly as possible towards the archway leading to the hall … To escape.

Or as much of an escape as you can manage with a limitless number of guards keeping watch over your every move.

You press a hand against the wall to steady yourself. Once you find an exit to the balcony, you grasp hold of a railing and try to calm yourself. A sob rises in your throat. You clamp your lips together to force it back.

No one told you the life of a princess would be this hard.

No one told you that you would have to give up your friends.

No one told you that a crown could weigh so heavily upon your head.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Light and good-humoured – not to mention vaguely familiar – a voice greets you from the shadows, you jarringly realise that you aren’t alone.

Normally, you would be thrilled – or shocked at the very least – to have New York’s very own Spiderman hanging from the fire escape only several feet away. It’s becoming a trend at school – all the girls are bragging about how Spiderman had saved them from robbers/harassment/bullying, and they’d proceeded to make out with Spiderman in some dark corner to ‘thank’ him.

And now he’s here. Real and alive. You could add on to the flood of wild stories, but you hardly need the added popularity. As it is, you could claim that you’d discovered Atlantis and people would believe you.

You manage a faint smile that comes across as more of a grimace on a pale and strained face that not even M.A.C and Elizabeth Arden can hide.

Willing your voice not to crack, you speak slowly, attempting to compose yourself, “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“What is your thing, then?”

He’s talking to you like he’s known you all your life. It’s warm and familiar and comforting somehow, to be talked to like a normal human being. No, “Yes, Your Highness”, or “As you wish, My Lady”. No airs, no treading on eggshells. Just … Normal conversation. You could cry. You want to cry.

“I enjoy horseback riding and embroidery.” Your voice sounds dead, even to your ears – it sounds like something you’ve memorised from a textbook. “I volunteer at soup kitchens in my free time, and I donate generously to churches and shelters.”

“I mean the real things.” His gaze is heavy on your face, so piercing that you think he can see all the way down into your soul. “Not the princess things.”

“I like watching movies,” You say, softly, carefully, after making sure that your grandmother isn’t going to jump out of nowhere to chide you for not giving the appropriate response. “I always watched them with my best friend.” There’s a sour taste in your mouth, almost like curdled milk, when you remember that you haven’t been to Peter’s in weeks, and that you haven’t been speaking to him for about as long. Swallowing, you continue, “I like books. Reading. Listening to music. You know. Teenager stuff.”

“Teenager stuff,” He repeats. “So why are you saying that other stuff?”

You let out a half laugh that sounds more like a hysterical hiccup. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

It’s what people want to hear. It’s what they expect from a princess. But your all your lies are piling up, one after another, and you’re afraid that soon they’ll collapse over you and will bury you under, and you won’t be able to climb out of the hole that you’ve dug yourself into.

“There’s always a choice.”

Not for me, you think, both angrily and wistfully. If you had any choice, you would abandon all your duties and run off to Antarctica to chill with the Penguins. You’d turn in your crown immediately. You’d become normal again. A regular girl, in a regular school, with a regular life.

You’d never thought you’d miss normalcy.

“You need a break.” Spiderman says, shaking his head in mock – or is it real? – disappointment. But then, his voice changes, takes on an edge of boyish excitement. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Go?” You wag your head hysterically. “Oh no no no, I can’t just … Go.”

“It’s not like I’m taking you to Aspen. Just around the city.”

Spiderman’s looking at you hopefully, almost child-like in his excitement. He holds out a hand, and you stare at it, wanting to take it, but still, unable to. What’s the harm? A voice whispers. Tomorrow you’ll have to go back to your life. All the press, the attention, the loneliness …

“Okay.”

Your cheeks warm. This is like something from a fairy tale – you the princess, and Spiderman the unconventional knight. You take his hand. It’s surprisingly warm and firm, and your own hand feels like it was made to hold his.

You try to think past these unwanted thoughts.

“Hold on tight. Okay?”

Before you can respond, you feel hands on your waist, and Spiderman’s lifting you up carefully, gently into his arms. He’s skinny, but a lot stronger than he looks. You accidentally slide back against his chest, breathing in the scent that clings to his skin – something warm, like cinnamon, vanilla, and the night air. Your heart inches its way into your throat. You’ll admit that you’re unusually nervous, but you chalk it up to being near to Spiderman. One breath is all you get the chance for though; he runs up to the edge of the roof and leaps right off it.

A loud scream escapes your lips. Your stomach plunges into a freefall, and your arms, once hanging limply at your side, now fly to wrap around Spiderman’s neck. You’re not sure if you’re strangling him with how tight you’re grabbing onto him, but right now, the only thought on your mind is holding on so that you don’t become a spot on the pavement.

You make a mental note to add ‘heights’ to the list of things you aren’t good at.

He has to shout to be heard over the cars honking, and the wind rushing by. “C’mon, open your eyes!”

“You’re crazy!” You squeak, praying that you won’t throw up all over his shiny new suit. “This was a bad idea!”

“I’m not going to drop you. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”

It’s hard to doubt the sincerity that rings true in his voice, but still, you glare suspiciously at the direction of his voice before opening your eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat. Wow. It looks absolutely stunning. New York at night, from the sky … It looks otherworldly, surreal. To your surprise, a laugh bubbles forth from you. Your hair streams back from your face, and a smile makes its way across your face. You’ve grown used to the strange, but not all together unpleasant feeling, of being weightless and free and infinite, of flying through the air.

You could get used to this.

“I – I, uh, saw the press conference.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Your mood had been rapidly improving, but now, the weight of all your mistakes comes crashing back down, hard, onto your shoulders. You’ve been teetering on the edge of tears all day, and this is all it takes for you to break down completely.

You cry Peter’s name.

And then you just cry.

His name, Ned’s name, Michelle’s name, in one desperate stream of sounds that you can’t separate from one another. You want someone to make things right; you want someone to make you not feel as if you’re constantly being pulled different ways by your heart and your head. Most of all, you want someone to tell you that everything will be alright; to promise that your friends won’t be hating you with every fibre of their beings.

Shit shit shit,” Spiderman’s saying from somewhere far away, panic and fear vibrating through those three words. “I said something wrong.”

Vaguely, you’re aware that the crisp night winds have stopped rifling through your hair, aware that you’re no longer flying through the air, have the vague sensation of being set down gently onto gravel. The cold and the damp press against your legs.

“My friends hate me,” You sob, scrubbing at your streaming eyes with the back of your hand. “My crush hates me. I said some things that I didn’t mean just now.”

Through the tears that blur your vision, Spiderman freezes, goes impossibly still, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Then why did you?” He asks softly.

“Because – Because I wanted to keep them safe,” You confess. Your throat aches as a horrible black ball of fear lodges itself under the roof of your mouth. “This – The Princess job isn’t safe, there are horrible people who want me dead, and if they manage to get to my friends, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“I get it.” Spiderman says, just as quietly, his voice suddenly sounding heavy and weary. “Believe me, I do.”

“No, you don’t!” You cry. It explodes out of you before you can stop it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so angry, but you could shake him or cry. “You have no idea – No one does – I thought this would be fun, but it’s not! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, and I’m in over my head, and I just want my friends back, but I can’t have them, and I just … I don’t know what to do anymore.”

The tears come in a flash flood. Exhaustion and self-pity roll over you. You’re sobbing even harder now, hunched over, and trembling in pain and sorrow and grief, with barely a pause to breathe as your frame is racked with the release of so many built-up emotions.

You think Spiderman’s left, but suddenly he’s holding you, warm and reassuring and real. You find yourself with your head buried in his shoulder, sobbing. He lets you cry it out, keeping you pressed tightly to him, and he’s making little noises into your hair, sounding positively pained that you’re miserable and he can’t do anything to help.

“I’ll take you home, okay?” He asks, once you’ve stopped crying.

All you can do is nod, still keeping your face buried into his neck.

He carries you into your room, through the window. He helps you to wash your makeup off, waits as you change out of your dress, helps you into bed, smoothing the covers over your still-trembling frame. Spiderman says goodnight, but you catch his hand and hold him there. You don’t want him to go, especially not when you feel so awful.

“Stay with me,” You whisper plaintively, like a small child. “Stay. Please.”

Fingers ghost through your hair, and you think you feel the brush of lips against your forehead. You think you hear Spiderman whisper a word back, but you’re too far gone to make it out.

anonymous asked:

Can you write a fic where Betty is sick and Jughead takes care of her or vise-versa?

Yes I LOVE this prompt!


Jughead Gets The Flu


“Hey, have you seen Jughead yet today?” Betty asked. She was standing at Archie’s locker, scuffing her shoe gently against the floor, worried.

“Yeah, sorry Betty, he asked me to tell you. He’s still sick. F.P. and my dad are working at a site a few hours away and they’re staying there for the week. Jughead’s sleeping at the trailer park so he doesn’t get me sick.”

“He’s still sick?!” Betty asked, worry crossing her face. “What’s that, like, four days now?”

Archie nodded, placing some notebooks back in his locker.

“Alright, thanks, Arch.” Betty gave him an unconvincing smile, strolling back toward her own locker.

She spun the dial quickly, grabbing her backpack and placed a couple notebooks inside. She had gym next, then study period. She could afford to miss those.

She shut her locker, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, gripping the strap.

She rushed out of school, jogging down the sidewalk, thankful that nobody called out to her to question her.

She walked to Pop’s, ordering a chicken noodle soup and a peppermint tea to go.

Pop filled her order quickly, only one other patron there at such an awkward time in the day.

Next, she stopped at the pharmacy, grabbing tissues, throat lozenges, cough medicine, cold pills (day time and night time, just in case), Echinacea, hand sanitizer and a large bottle of water.

She stuffed the pharmacy bag into her backpack and walked the distance to Jughead’s trailer.

She knocked gently and waited, then knocked again after a few moments had gone by. She heard shuffling inside the trailer, then the door swung open.

“Oh, Bets. It’s you.” A slow smile spread across Jughead’s face. He looked sick, that was for sure. 

His hat was missing, his hair unruly, sticking up in all directions. A few pieces stuck to his forehead.

His eyes were rimmed with hard purple bags, his nose bright pink at the tip. He had a blanket swung across his shoulders. He was smiling goofily at her.

“Come into my humble abode.” He sniffled.

“Thanks, Juggie,” She smiled despite herself.

Jughead sat on the couch, making room for Betty at one end. He extended his legs, stretching but leaving them on the ground. He rested his head against the arm rest.

“I brought you soup.” Betty smiled, placing the soup and the tea on the coffee table in front of them.

“You did!” He exclaimed, trying to sit up. He lost his balance, swaying towards the ground. 

He caught himself as Betty reached out her hand.

“Jughead, oh my God, are you okay?” She placed one hand on his shoulder, the other hand brushed his bangs back and rested on his forehead, checking his temperature. “Jug, you’re burning up.”

Jughead took a deep breath. “I don’t feel good, Bets.”

“Are you going to throw up?” 

Jughead shook his head. “No, it’s not that… just, too hot.”

“Okay, okay.” Betty grabbed the blanket Jughead had around him, tossing it to the floor.  

She knelt on the floor next to him, taking his legs and swinging them onto the couch. “Here, babe, take this off.” Had she just called him babe? Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

Jughead did as she said, gripping the bottom of his tshirt and pulling it off as best he could while laying down. 

Betty touched Jughead’s chest, feeling how hot and clammy it was beneath her hand. “Okay, Jug, they say you need to break fevers with more heat, don’t they? Shit, I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

He didn’t answer, just kept breathing.

Betty grabbed her backpack from the floor and took out her pharmacy bag. She took out all the items, placing the on the coffee table, the grabbed the bottle of water. It was still cold.

“Here, take this.” Betty said, placing the water in his hand. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She got up, walking to the kitchen. She was looking for paper towel, but she couldn’t see any.

She walked around the trailer, looking for the bathroom. She found it and spotted a facecloth hanging by the sink.

She ran the faucet, making the water as cold as possible, then soaked the facecloth.

She rushed back to where Jughead was lying down, and placed the facecloth against his forehead. While she was gone he must’ve had a couple sips of water, because it was half gone.

He audibly sighed when she placed the cloth against his head. She ran a knuckle softly against his cheek.

“Is that helping, Juggie?” She murmured.

“Yeah. A lot. Thank you.” He whispered. 

Betty placed her hand at the edge of the couch. Jughead must’ve felt the weight there. He quickly slipped his hand in hers, squeezing.

Betty couldn’t help but smile.

“Jug, I also got you some medicine.”

His eyes popped open.

“Thank God,” He murmured, sitting up once more.

His eyes skimmed the coffee table, grabbing for the Buckleys cough medicine. He cracked the lid and put the bottle to his mouth.

Before Betty could stop him, more than half the bottle was gone. He had chugged it.

“Jughead, what are you doing?” 

“I want to feel better.” He shrugged.

“You’re going to be high off that stuff.”

Jughead lied back, resting his head against the arm rest once more. “Guess I shouldn’t tell you that I popped two cold pills before you got here.” He laughed.

“Oh my God, Jug. That’s not good.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Jughead whispered.

Betty sat there, not knowing what to say. She was still kneeling next to the couch, her hand back in Jughead’s.

Jughead was lying on the couch shirtless, the cloth on his head. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. She thought he had fallen asleep, so she pulled the cloth off of Jughead’s forehead and replaced it with her hand, checking his temperature.

“Betty?” Jughead murmured quietly.

“Mm?” She answered, placing the cold pills directly in front of him.

“Thank you.” He said earnestly.

“For what, Jug?” 

“For doing this. Nobody has ever taken care of me when I was sick before.”

Betty had to bite her lip from the tears pricking her eyes. Just the thought of Jughead - how many times do you get sick in your life? - having to battle colds and flu’s by himself was making her emotional. Something so many people don’t think twice about, having someone to take care of them. She had just done what felt natural to her. She wanted to take care of him.

She squeezed his hand. “It’s my pleasure, Juggie. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Betty?”

“Yeah, Juggie?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Sure, Juggie. I won’t leave.”

She saw a smile spread across his face as he turned  onto his side. She released his hand and picked up the soup and tea, placing them in the kitchen.

She put the bottled water, cold pills, lozenges and cough medicine on the coffee table and moved the beer bottles and empty cigarette packs into the kitchen.

After a few minutes, she walked around the trailer, looking for Jughead’s room. There was only one bedroom, she assumed F.P.’s, the bathroom, a small kitchen area and the living room. It dawned on her that F.P. must’ve gotten the trailer after Jellybean and their mom moved away.

She walked back the the couch Jughead was on and saw he was shivering. Jesus, what kind of bug was this? 

She covered his body with the blanket and smoothed back his hair.

He opened his eyes at the touch.

“I don’t deserve you.” He didn’t say it in a sad way, nor a happy way. He was overheated and sick and exhausted. He was just being honest.

“You’d do the same for me, Juggie.” She smiled at him.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, closing his eyes.

“I’m the lucky one, Jug.” She brushed his hair back again, his forehead feeling closer to normal.

“Don’t leave.” Jughead said, gripping her hand.

“I won’t, Juggie.”

“Lay down with me.”

“You might overheat again.” She warned.

“It’ll be worth it.” He said, closing his eyes. 

Betty laughed as she laid down beside him.

This was not the first time I tried to lose weight. It wasn’t the fifth or even the tenth time. I’d tried every diet from South Beach to North Pole. Shakes, soups, supplements and starving plans and even when I’d lose some weight, I’d run out of steam a few weeks in and all the pounds would come back and bring friends.

My biggest problems was my goal. I would set a goal weight and know what I shouldn’t or couldn’t eat on a diet but I didn’t really have a clear picture of what my life looked like at that goal weight. What would I eat? What would maintenance look like? How would I move/stay fit? How did I want to live? How would I make this last forever?

For me, I decided to actuality write out rules for myself, focusing MORE on the DOs than the DON'Ts.

Weight Loss plans focus 90% on the DON'Ts. Instead of feeling deprived, I focused on feeling empowered. I could eat all these incredible foods. I sought after desirable things instead of being so focused on avoiding things that were bad for me.

Here’s a challenge: stop talking and thinking about restrictions and focus on what you DO instead on what you DON’T and instead of trying to STOP being something, you’ll see that you’re focused on BECOMING and CREATING.

it was just a matter of time- riarkle headcanon

-Riley and farkle move away for college because they got into colleges hella close to eachother (because of course they did)

 -Maya and lucas move in together too cuz lucas is going to vet school 30 min away from where maya goes to art school

-So they rent an apartment

-So what do you do when you buy an apartment together? you furnish an apartment together

-Farkles parents basically ruffle his hair and toss a credit card at him when he tells them so riley decides that just this once she can take advantage of the situation

-Riley is very into interior design

-Farkle is very into riley

-So he just kinda agrees with her on everything and she designs a BANGING apartment

-At one point she goes into a pottery barn and goes “ill take that” to the salesclerk

-“What, the chair?”

-“No. the room.”

-It ends up looking fantastic because of course it does

-So college starts, riley is an overachiever of course and takes way too many classes and is constantly sleep deprived

-Which means Riley falls asleep on Farkle a lot and one time when she falls asleep on the couch surrounded by textbooks Farkle picks her up and puts her in bed

-She calls him superman for a week after she realizes what he did

-Farkle and riley facetime Lucaya at one point and lucaya’s like “lol they’re so in love”

-Oh! yeah

- so farkle is always getting into situations that require riley to save him

-“Riley please help I lied to the cool frat guys and told them i was dating someone will you pretend to be my girlfriend for a night thank you I love you”

-He gets into these situations on purpose tho obviously

-One time Riley breaks her left arm slipping on ice and Farkle takes care of her a lot (smoothies and carrying stuff for her because she is a c r y b a b y )

-And another time Farkle has an emotional breakdown over not being the best and Riley comforts him and they fall asleep in each-others arms

-Fast forward a few months and Ok Lucas and Maya  are getting MARRIED What the FUCK theyre so young??? Whatever lets support it wait it’s a destination wedding what the FUCK just be my date (There’s one bed in the hotel room motherfuckers you know what that means…. Hardcore cuddles get ur mind out of the gutter smh) (They slow dance at the reception and then they’re super buzzed and KISS and stare at each other for a long time and then the song ends and they never talk about the kiss)

-Oh and one time Riley gets stalked by this really creepy guy and Farkle to the rescue (he puts on like 6 jackets and follows the guy down the street at night and pushes him up against a wall and says in a really deep voice ‘stay away from riley.” and the guy goes running and never bothers riley again)

-So after freshman year Cory asks if they’re going to be living together forever and Riley just shrugs and says “i don’t see why not”

-Fast forward and they go to a halloween party sophomore year and Theres an apple bobbing station and Farkles like “remember when I saved your life twice” And riley kisses his cheek and goes ‘my hero’ and their friends see this

-and said friends make them make out in truth or dare

-Riley wants to talk about it the next day but farkle just says ‘just forget it Riley, Its nothing” because he thinks that Riley was gonna reject him and rileys like ‘oh wow ok’ and the next few weeks are super awkward.

-But riley wasnt gonna reject him

-She was gonna ask him to go out with her

-But FINE FARKLE HAVE IT YOUR WAY

-So like shes sulking around the house all the time feeling all dejected

-And so is farkle

-But riley is PISSED at farkle

-But also highkey pining for him

-And farkle is highkey pining for her

-So much angst jfc

-Then he’s gonna leave for a month over thanksgiving break to visit his family and Riley is just standing in the doorway and he sees her looking just so empty and he just says ‘fuck it” and kisses her

-Shes all happy for like 8 seconds and then she just. Punches him. In the face.

-And hes like “RILEY WHAT THE HELL”

-And shes like “SORRY BUT YOU DONT GET TO REJECT ME AND THEN JUST KISS ME”

-And hes like “WHAT THE FUCK??? YOU REJECTED ME”

-“WHAT?”

-“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT”

-The general consensus is “??????????????????????????????????”

-And so farkle calls his dad and just says “SOMETHING CAME UP”, walks to the kitchen clutching his nose to get an ice pack and just turns around and yells “ARE YOU COMING OR NOT”

-She follows him because she is Very Confused™ and feels bad about punching him

-So hes just sitting at the table with a pack of frozen peas pressed to his face and if riley werent so upset shed laugh becuase he looks like a mop of hair and two eyes on top of a bag of frozen vegetables

-“Well? Are you going to sit down?”

-She does

-There is 2 minutes and 17 seconds of silence

-They both counted

-She breaks it with “sorry for punching you”

-He just puts down the peas and goes “please explain”

-She probably owes him that she decides

-“Well you see i guess i’d had these subconscious feelings for you and then we made out and suddenly they were very conscious and i wanted to talk to you about it and maybe see if it was going to go somewhere but then you rejected me”

-It is at this point that farkle slams his head into the table

-“OH MY GOD RILEY”

-“WHAT”

-If farkle wasnt already bleeding from his nose he wouldve punched himself

-THE  GIRL HE HAD BEEN IN LOVE WITH SINCE HE WAS 7 YEARS OLD WAS RETURNING HIS FEELINGS AND HE REJECTED THEM WITHOUT KNOWING

-WHAT THE FUCK FARKLE

-“RILEY I AM SO SORRY I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO TALK BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO TELL ME NOTHING COULD EVER HAPPEN AND I DIDNT WANT TO HEAR THAT SO I JUST”

-“WAIT FARKLE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING”

-“OF COURSE I WANT IT TO GO SOMEWHERE RILEY”

-“YOU DO?”

-“YES”

-It is at this point that farkle vaults over the table, LIFTS riley out of her chair, and kisses her like there’s no tommorrow

-They stand there kissing for a solid 7 minutes (in heaven lmao puns)

-But then riley realizes that farkle is still very much injured

-“Um babe maybe we should get you to a hospital”

-“Yes i am decently sure my nose is broken you throw a great right hook”

-It is not, in fact, broken, just badly bruised

-The doctor asks “what happened?” and they both say “bar fight” at the same time

-So they send farkle home with some tape and an icepack and he recovers quickly

-Which is great because riley feels SO BAD

-Apologizing 24/7

-she makes him soup and brings him ice cream and makes him a goddamn “sorry i punched you babe i love you” poster

-And she really wants to make out with him

-Stupid miscommunicating nerds

-Love them

-Riarkle for life

-Thank u

-The end

3

Okay so this might sound like a weird one so feel free to disregard XD! But i was wondering if you could maybe to a one shot/imagine with Raphael Santiago (bae) from Shadowhunters but a one shot/imagine where like he finds out your own your period? IDK IDK IM SORRY TO WASTE YOUR TIME! 

****

You had been dating Raphael for a few weeks, and by now the two of you were happily content in each others company, spending nearly every available moment the two of you had free together. Sometimes it would be late night strolls through the park, cooking, talking, reading and even sometimes just sitting in silence, your head on his lap as he stroked your hair calmly.

So it wasn’t uncommon for you to be making your way over to Hotel Demort on a particularly dreary day. Entering the building through the back you headed to the top, to Raphael but he wasn’t there. You walked around for a bit, checking the few rooms you knew he’d be in  before finally flopping down on the couch, coming to the realization thathe was probably handling vampire buisness or out with Magnus.

After waiting for around half an hour you had made yourself comfortable, tv on for white noise, chips and homeade quac the two of you made together yesterday in hand and a book on your lap you were mindlessly teasing through when your stomach began to knot in pain. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you set eveything aside, your stomach had been bothering you this entire day and you couldn’t guess why but with everyting off your lap you decided it best to head to the bathrom just in case and low and behold all you could see was red.

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Even Remarkable Women Get the Flu

Happy Happy Birthday @coal000!! I wrote you this fic for your birthday. It’s set in Season 2 when Felicity was still working as Oliver’s executive assistant. I so hope you enjoy! it can also be read on AO3.

Thanks so much to @almondblossomme for proofing for me!


Oliver stepped off the elevator with a smile. He looked at his executive assistant, not secretary’s desk and he had beat her to work for once. He carefully placed Felicity Smoak’s coffee on her desk but not too close to the computer, he knew better than that, and headed into his office.  

He quickly read over the email with his schedule Felicity had sent yesterday before leaving. He noticed the red file, she mentioned in the email, on his desk. She really did take care of everything. He laughed as he read her post-it note comments on the document. He looked up but she still wasn’t at her desk.

Felicity had been his executive assistant for a few months now and other than the time she traveled to Central City to visit Barry, she had never missed any time or even been late. He was starting to get concerned. He thought about calling her but he didn’t want to panic too soon.

Oliver decided to go to his first meeting and then do something if he hadn’t heard from her. He tried to remember if she had told him she was going to be late. But he could think of nothing and he was sure, she would have included that in her end of day email.

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Diabolik Lovees fandom vs real

Fandom Reiji: salty mom, pigeon ,cries to sleep due to his siblings, sO LIGHT EM UP UP UP on FIREEEEE.🔥🔥🔥

real reiji: neRD .

Fandom Shuu: perverted shoe. LaZY LifE 🎻🎻🎻🎼🎼🎶🎶🎼

Real shuu: morns over childhood friend, scared of betrayel ,mozart fanboy.🎻 💤💤💤💤

Fandom ayato: idiot , boastful dork ,loves basketball and female …uh that.

Real ayato: actually thinks, superiority complex, arrogant but caring. Loves female ….uh that.

Fandom laito: pervert.

Real laito: pervert.

Fandom kanato: bipolar kid, love of life teddy, hate on everyone, raw salt, house of wax. DoLLs.

Real ka- who am i kidding he is that way.

Fandom subaru: tsunbunny, nice, cinnamon roll, a car and a bunny, anger managment problem anD WALL- CHAN. 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🌻🌻🌸🌸

Real subaru: heavy meTAL BROKE MY *FLIPS WALLS*
HEART.  ⚡⚡⚡

Fandom ruki: 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit. Christian grey.

Real ruki: nERD. Mom friend. Old man soul. Soup. I will make you proud father.📖👔🎓.

Fandom kou: two faced mean neko loving idol boy. Tinkerbell.

Real kou: regina george. 💄💄

Fandom yuma: Farmer. Dork.🍅🍅🍅

Real yuma: cannibal.

Fandom azusa: sweet sunshine child. Masochist knife loving child. Cinnamon roll. Teddy killer thug life🔪🔪🔪🔫🔫🔫💣💣💣

Real azusa: you have heard of sunshine child now get ready for

MOONLIGHT ADULT.✂✂✂

Fandom Kino: drugs 24/7. Game loving trash. Kill dem vamps yea. Dat boi. 👽👽👽

Real Kino: ?????👤👤????⁉⁉⁉

Fandom shin: Notice me carla -senpai !!! whO LET THE DOGS OUT WOOF WOOF.

Real shin: i will defeat my brother *looks up at the sky and wipes a tear*

Fandom carla:$enpai didnt notice🔚🚫⚠⚠ ❎❎🚫❌❌💢💢. No really shin sTOp.

Real carla:

inside *i hope shin ate his breakfast* * ooHh is that a 19th century painting*👀👀👌👌👍.

Outside *puts shin in prison* that is what you get for breaking my antique.

Fandom yui: what.

Real yui: wat.


Just for fun 👌👌

Sisterly Love, LMM/Reader

Prompt: I told my family I was in a relationship/fake boyfriend + Lin-Manuel Miranda

Words: 1391 (WOW, so long!)

Author’s Note: The longest fic I’ve written so far! I honestly love writing for Lin so much, it’s so easy because he’s literally the love of my life???

Warnings: Like one curse word? Responsible drinking (don’t drink and drive, kids).

Askbox | Masterlist | Prompt list


You had been independent your whole life - an occasional date here or there, maybe a relationship once in a blue moon. This led to a lot of nagging from your family, especially your older sister. She was lucky enough to find her girlfriend - now fiance - freshman year of high school.

This led her to believe it was her duty to set you up with your soulmate. You allowed her a few blind dates, but moved to New York when a job opportunity arose.

You were very grateful for the work and for the escape. That didn’t stop her from sending texts or calling you about a ‘special someone’.

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What went down in Kung Food
  • INTRO SEQUENCE
  • Marinette: hey Alya so I need to talk to my Chinese uncle but I don't speak Chinese
  • Marinette: what should I do
  • Alya: does he speak any English
  • Marinette: what good would that do?
  • Marinette: I don't speak any English
  • Alya: then what are you speaking rn
  • Marinette: French, remember?
  • Alya: oh right I forgot
  • Marinette: yeah this is confusing
  • Alya: so does he speak any French
  • Marinette: idk I don't think imma bother to check
  • Alya: you're trying to get me to send Adrien as an interpreter
  • Marinette: pls Alya
  • Alya: fine he's on his way
  • Wang: this isn't at all awkward
  • Adrien: hey guys!
  • Wang: hey Adrien!
  • Adrien: so you actually speak English then
  • Wang: no this is French
  • Adrien: right
  • Wang: anyway imma be on this cooking competition
  • Adrien: kk cool do you want me to interpret for you
  • Wang: nah I'm sure nothing will go wrong
  • Chloé: *happens*
  • Wang: in retrospect...
  • Hawkmoth: fly my akuma
  • Kung Food: it's time for Chloé to get WRECKED
  • Chloé: wow real original there
  • Kung Food: I'll show you original!!!
  • Kung Food: prepare for a sticky situation as my protégés coat the building in IMPENETRABLE CARAMEL
  • Kung Food: get ready to cry when you witness my FLYING ONION CAMERAS
  • Kung Food: you'll be the one getting cut into slices as you face off against my TEN-FOOT PIZZA SWORD
  • Ladybug: should we jump in and stop him
  • Chat Noir: no not yet he's on a roll here
  • Kung Food: your salty attitude will be the perfect seasoning for my SWIMMING POOL OF BOILING SOUP
  • Kung Food: I always said that the fennel was mightier than the sword
  • Kung Food: pasta la vista, baby
  • Chat Noir: okay, looks like he's out of ideas
  • Ladybug: yeah he defs stole that last one from somewhere
  • Chat Noir: well it's time to take him down
  • Kung Food: *retreats to the roof*
  • Chloé: oh good
  • Kung Food: *suspends Chloé over a swimming pool of boiling soup*
  • Chloé: oh no
  • Jagged Stone: so anyways y'all gotta fight me first
  • Ladybug: what's that weapon you've got?
  • Jagged Stone: you'll be like fish in a barrel as I come at you with my SEAFOOD STAFF
  • Chat Noir:
  • Ladybug: *locks Jagged Stone in the closet like a badass*
  • André: and now you gotta fight me!
  • Ladybug: and what's your deal
  • André: something something sausage fest
  • Ladybug: yeah nope
  • Ladybug: *drops a chandelier on him*
  • Marlena and Alec: and now there's TWO OF US
  • Marlena: prepare to face an onslaught of flavor from my THOUSAND FLYING CAKES
  • Ladybug: okay but
  • Ladybug: let's get real here
  • Ladybug: "thousand flying cakes" is the coolest attack name EVER
  • Ladybug: like, respect
  • Alec: and I can't think of a pun, but here are some BLINDING STINKY CHEESE BOMBS
  • Chat Noir: my inner Plagg is v conflicted
  • Chat Noir: also I just realized my inner Plagg is v literal rn
  • Chat Noir: whoa that's really weird to think about
  • Alec: *wrecks him*
  • Ladybug: *wrecks both Alec and Marlena*
  • Ladybug: and now for the boss fight
  • Chat Noir: don't you mean the chef fight
  • Ladybug: don't try and say one-liners, you're bad at it
  • Chat Noir: I call them pun-liners
  • Kung Food: HEY GUYS
  • Kung Food: *drops Chloé toward soup*
  • Ladybug: whoa Chloé's about to die
  • Ladybug: like wow the stakes have never been higher
  • Ladybug: I can't imagine what life would be like with her gone
  • Kung Food: do you want me to pull her back out so you've got enough time to rescue her
  • Ladybug: nah I got this
  • Ladybug: *rescues Chloé like a badass*
  • Chloé: *is herself*
  • Ladybug: *drops Chloé off roof*
  • Chat Noir: did you just
  • Ladybug: she'll be fine
  • Chat Noir: how do you know
  • Ladybug: the screenwriters need somebody to get people akumatized
  • Chat Noir: oh right
  • Kung Food: *attacks*
  • Ladybug and Chat Noir: *fight back*
  • Ladybug: hey Kung Food hang on a minute
  • Chloé: hey guys so I climbed back up
  • Ladybug: *chucks Chloé off the roof again*
  • Kung Food: that was a worthy diversion
  • Ladybug: lucky charm!
  • Payment terminal: *happens*
  • Ladybug: "payment terminal"? really?
  • Chat Noir: do you have a better name for those things
  • Chat Noir: that's even what it's called on the wiki
  • Ladybug: idk but I've got a good one-liner for it
  • Ladybug: hey Kung Food, we've finished our meal and it's time to pay the bill!
  • Chat Noir: needs work
  • Ladybug: *wrecks Kung Food*
  • Ladybug: you were saying
  • Chat Noir: FINISH HIM
  • Ladybug: bye bye little butterfly
  • Wang: anyway here's the soup I made
  • Alec & co: ok you've won the competition
  • Alec & co: like there are defs no more contestants
  • Wang: btw I renamed the soup
  • Wang: it's now called Marinette Soup
  • Alec & co: might I ask why
  • Wang: bc Marinette fell in the swimming pool of soup
  • Wang: she's responsible for the flavor
  • Marinette: um no I'm right here
  • Wang: oh wow this is awkward
  • Wang: so who was that who fell in the soup
  • Marinette: idk
  • ROLL CREDITS

okay but consider

  • ‘friend of a friend needs a place to stay before they get evicted’ au
  • 'room mate falls in the shower and breaks an arm’ au
  • 'room mate has a nightmare and doesn’t want to sit alone at night’ au 
  • 'new room mate cooks alone for the first time and almost burns down the house’ au
  • 'room mate gets sick and needs tissues and cough sweets and soup’ au
  • 'overhearing room mate singing in the shower to find out they sound angelic’ au
  • room mate aus /)uwu(\

ONE FINE DAY EPISODE 7 HAS SAVED MY LIFE

MAY WE ALL STAND IN A CIRCLE AND PRAISE GOD FOR GRACING US WITH KIM HIMCHAN, THE MAN WHO BOUGHT LOBSTER FOR DAEHYUN BECAUSE HE KNEW HOW MUCH HE WANTED TO EAT IT

THE ONE WHO MAKES SOUP JUST CAUSE THE KIDS WANTED TO EAT IT

AND THE WHO LOOKS LIKE THIS AS HE JUST WATCHES HIS MEMBERS EAT THE FOOD HE MADE

what no these aren’t tears in my ey es

Auston Matthews-Hate

HEY!💕 I don’t know if this was requested but can you do an Auston Matthews or William Nylander one where the player is in an interracial relationship & he helps his girlfriend get through the hate from fans

Originally posted by mitchsauston


A/N:  Here you go sunshine.  Thank you so much for your patience, I know this one was submitted a while ago. 😘

Tumblr. You could not decide if you loved it or hated it.  Matt Martin’s girlfriend Sydney had recommended a blog on tumblr that had some really good design ideas, when she heard that you and Auston were talking about getting a house.  It was a great blog that gave you lots of ideas, however you decided to search for hockey ideas and that was how things went from great to horrible.  Somehow in your search for hockey ideas you stumbled on this hockey blog dedicated to hockey wives and girlfriends.  

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