notable words


Hypothetical Handplates scenario in which Sans realizes he can teach himself Common.

(Ugh, tumblr is making them blurry for some reason so I guess full-view if you want the not-blurry version??)

Convoluted explanation incoming. Handplates is an Undertale fancomic by @zarla-s and if you like Papyrus and Sans, go read it, is good stuff. So I guess this is an AU fancomic of an AU fancomic? I dunno, the idea wouldn’t leave my brain until I did something with it. So. Zarla did a Christmas doodle where Gaster gave the boys a box of ginger cookies that had the word COOKIES on the side in big letters, and because my job gives me way too much time to think about random stuff, I realized something.

In Handplates, Gaster taught the bros to read and write Wingdings but deliberately did not teach them monster Common (ie: English) so they can’t read his nametag or anything. Thing is, Wingdings is a 1:1 substitution cipher for English. Every Wingdings symbol exactly equals an English letter; it’s not a different language, just a different set of pictures. As somebody who has taught herself a fair number of substitution ciphers, there are a few things you look for when you’re trying to translate a code and you don’t have a key in front of you. Most notably, single-letter words (in English they will usually be A or I) or double letters next to each other. Like the OO in “COOKIES”.

Sans is smart. Gaster has fed them junk food before and odds are good Sans knows how to spell “COOKIES”. The word is on the box in huge letters and Gaster just said it out loud, so it is fresh in Sans’ mind. That double-O is a huge tip-off. He would put it together that the word on the front of the box matches what’s inside. Once you figure out a few of the letters, it becomes steadily easier to decode the rest.

I feel like Gaster exposes the boys to enough Common (the nametag, food wrappers, computer monitors, the books Sans sits on) that Sans could pick it up with a proper starting point. Papyrus probably not, because he had a hard enough time with Wingdings, but Sans is eager for any opportunity to undermine Gaster and I’m sure he’d jump at the chance. In this comic he elects not to tell Papyrus, though. He doesn’t know Gaster has cameras in the cell (or even what a camera is) but he’s figured out that Gaster can spy on them somehow, and the last time Gaster caught them learning something he didn’t like, Papyrus got the ever-loving hell beat out of him. So Sans keeps quiet about it for now. And thus starts the long-standing tradition of keeping important secrets from his brother.

On the technical side, it took me a freakin’ week to sketch and outline this whole thing. Coloring and shading only took me like a day. In the meantime Zarla actually kinda addressed the cookie comic, but this was almost done by then so oh well. I’m finding my poses and proportions turn out a LOT better when I’m doodling skeletons, like what, drawing basic anatomy will make you better at anatomy, you don’t say?? A lot of this was a self-challenge to see if I could imitate Zarla’s art style, and I referenced previous Handplates comics a lot for the backgrounds and Sans’ face. Full disclosure: Gaster’s pose up there is basically copied from Zarla’s original comic because I was rushing through to get on to the actual meat of the story. He’s just here for setup. I had fun trying to figure out how to do his Lost Soul head though. Also, I hate Papyrus’ face from the front. Also also, it was tricky trying to convey “mentally translating an unknown alphabet into a known one” when pretty much everyone who sees this comic is already familiar with the “unknown” one and not the “known” one, but I think I pulled it off. 

TL;DR- I imitated somebody else’s style to do an AU of an AU; I am not Zarla; Zarla is the creator of Handplates and also Gaster’s pose in the first panel; I like ciphers too much and also I gave the cookies icing because that is the only kind of ginger cookie I know.

What Is The Shape Of Your Monster? – Get Out and Thought-out Horror

Get out.

No, I’m dead serious. If you haven’t already seen Jordan Peele’s Get Out yet, I need you to do me a massive favor. I need you to bookmark this page, close this page, and absolutely do not read this page— or any other essay or article on Get Out— until you’ve finished watching it.

I’m not just saying this because this essay will contain major spoilers for a movie that is best enjoyed going in knowing as little as possible— I mean, yes, it will— but most of all I just want as many people to see this movie as possible. It is by far the most socially relevant American movie to come out this year, at time of writing, if not one of the most socially relevant pieces of American art of the past decade.

It’s also just a very good movie.


Keep reading

If you like Carmilla you might try...

So, as someone who wants to write webseries for a living, I’ve watched my fair share of shows. These are some of my favorites, in alphabetical order. Since webseries actors have a tendency to pop up in other productions, I’ll list notable people as well.

All for One - Produced by KindaTV

A literary series based off of the three musketeers, A4O follows the story of Dorothy Castlemoore as she attempts to rush the sorority Mu Sigma Theta, and the problems (and hilarity) that ensues. (PLUS, though it is non-canon the fandom has a theory that Inseperables members cookiemonster, canonicallyace and worstdanceever are Laura, Beth and Lizzie, respectively.) I give this show a 5/5 queer rating for gender swapped characters, canonically queer ladies and a bisexual character who says the word bi! 

Notable Actors - Alejandra Simmons, Angie Lopez

Couple-ish - Written by Kaitlyn Alexander and Sharon Belle

Couple-ish follows Dee and Rachel, as they attempt to trick the Canadian government into thinking they’re dating so Rachel can stay in the country. I give this show a 5/5 queer rating for sheer awesomeness.

Notable Actors - Kaitlyn Alexander, Sharon Belle

Haunted or Hoax

Follow best friends, Casey and Jac, as they attempt to determine whether Grantham House is haunted, or if it’s all a Hoax. I give this show a 5/5 queer rating for an all female love triangle.

Notable Actors - Natasha Negovanlis, Sydney Kondruss

High’rd Help - Written by the fandom’s own Olivia D'Agostino of Fool’s Gold renown

Ava is an awkward high schooler who gets some extra-ordinary help from Charlie, who is possibly the world’s WORST guardian angel. I give this show a 4/5 queer rating for canon bisexuality, and so many lady kisses.

Last Life - Produced by Puma Squad

In a world with good and evil witches, Sloane and Taylor are two soulmates with questionable pasts that must find each other in each life they live. I give this show a 3/5 queer rating for lady kisses.

Lizzie Bennet Diaries - Produced by Pemberley Digital

Emmy award wining and one of the first major literary series, LBD is a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice where Lizzie is a grad student vlogging as part of her thesis. There are several companion series throughout so make sure to try and watch them all. I give this show a 0/5 queer rating, for straightness, but it’s still good.

Notable Actors - Ashley Clements, Mary-Kate Wiles, Maxwell Glick

March Family Letters - Produced by Pemberley Digital

A literary series based off of Little Women, MFL is about the March sisters as they send video letters to their mother. I give this show a 4/5 queer rating for a canonically ace character (Beth), and lady kisses.

Notable Actors - Alejandra Simmons, Natasha Negovanlis

Matchless - Written by Olivia D’Agostino

Alex would be a typical college student, if her dad wasn’t the devil. Follow her as she gains new powers, and tries to save the world. I give this show a 3/5 queer rating for lady kisses and bi characters. 

MsLabelled - Produced by KindaTV

All Ella wants to do is be a fashion blogger, but being an assistant for a fashion magazine will do for now. I give this show a 2/5 queer rating for a few queer characters. 

Notable Actors - Sydney Kondruss

Muzzled: The Musical - Produced by Will Save Productions

In a world where singing grants you power, the Blackhearts are a faction of people who must wear a magical tattoo called a muzzle to keep them from singing. Malfalia, the daughter of the leader of the Blackhearts, just wants to sing. This star studded cast is really remarkable. I give this show a 0/5 queer rating, but again, it’s still very good.

Notable Actors - Ashley Clements, Mary-Kate Wiles, Maxwell Glick, Lauren Lopez (of Starkid), Joey Richter (of Starkid), Jeff Lewis (of The Guild), Ashly Burch (Voice actress most known for Chloe Price), Juliet Landau (Buffy’s Drusilla) and the series was created in part by Matthew Mercer (Voice actor most known for Chrom in Fire Emblem or McCree in Overwatch, DM for Critical Role) 


Zelda and Esther are two high schoolers trying to find themselves in a boring suburban town. I give this show a 1/5 queer rating for eventual queerness.

Notable Actors - Mary-Kate Wiles

Till Lease Do Us Part - Produced by The Gay Women Channel

Each season follows a different lady-loving-lady couple as they are somehow stuck in a lease. I give this show a 4/5 queer rating for all-around queerness.

Notable Actors - Season 2, Angie Lopez, Winnie Clark (of Almost Adults)

This list is by no means the end-all-be-all of web-series, and the rating system is literally just my own opinion. but, like I said, these are some of my favorites. Stop by my inbox if you have suggestions for me to add or if any of the links are broken. Happy watching!

Riverdale’s Pagliacci-Riverdale Imagine

Requested: No

Warnings: some depressing thoughts and it’s pretty long

A/N: I really like Riverdale and had this idea in my head while watching it. Hope you enjoy it! Slight Y/N X Archie

Originally posted by bethsmaggie

Originally posted by lodges-veronica

There’s an old story about a man who goes to the doctor because he’s depressed and feels all alone in the cruel world. The doctor tells him to go see the great clown Pagliacci since he’s in town tonight and is sure to lift his mood. The man looks up at the doctor and bursts into tears and says that he is Pagliacci. It’s an old trope about how the funniest people are really the most depressed people. It helps explain things like how the great Robin Williams, who brought joy to so many people, would kill himself. However, when we really think about it, it makes sense: funny people make jokes about the crappy things going on around us to not only distract us but themselves from the horrors of the world. Sure, they’re known as a bright light, but it’s also hard for funny people to express how sad and in pain they really are because they’re supposed to see the humor in everything. Little did my friends and I know that we had our own Pagliacci: Y/N Y/L/N. She used to say that she came out of the womb pulling a funny face and then her mom dropped her so her face would straighten out. It was definitely one of her darker jokes, but it always made people laugh. She always had this look in her y/e/c eyes that said “If you thought that was funny, wait until you see or hear this…”. However, a little after the death of Jason Blossom, the brightness in her eyes was fading away and it was almost too late before my friends and I noticed it. It started off as a normal night at Pop’s for me, writing and brooding until Y/N walked in.

    The bell on the front door of Pop’s dinged as someone else walked into the dinner that fateful night. It was only eight o’clock but Jughead was already three pages into the latest part of his novel and he was in a zone if he did say so himself.

    “Pop’s, the usual please but make my milkshake a double, it’s been one of those days,” Y/N said as she sauntered over to Jughead’s booth.

    The owner chuckled behind the counter. “Right away, Miss Y/L/N.”
    “A double chocolate milkshake with extra whip cream? You must plan to die a heroic death by diabetes,” Jughead said without looking up from him laptop screen.

    “My body needs sugar. Without it, it goes all haywire,” Y/N said as she sat in the seat across from Jughead. “Who are you writing about this time? Is it the mysterious Veronica? The golden Archie? Or is it your beloved blonde, Betty?”
     “None of the above,” Jughead said, but not without a notable bristle at the word “beloved”. 

     “Then who could you possibly be writing about?” Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes widened and she placed a hand over her heart. “Is it about me? Are you writing about how impossibly charming and witty I am?”

      Jughead couldn’t fight the smile off his face as he tried to remain serious. “I see you’ve humbled with age and no, I’m not writing about you.”

      Y/N scoffed and stole some fries off his plate. “Whatever, I do expect a full chapter of me in that finished novel though. We both know how much amazing material I’ve given you over the years.”

     “Yes, but we’re not all talented at writing jokes about our dearest friends,” Jughead said.

     Y/N’s eyes widened as she remembered something. “That reminds me, I came up with some new jokes.”

    “Have you been invited to perform somewhere?”

    “No, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She began digging her notebook of jokes out of her backpack without waiting for Jughead’s response.

     “Y/N, I’m kind of busy.”
     Y/N narrowed her y/e/c eyes at him and Jughead couldn’t help but smirk. They had a tradition of meeting at Pop’s and they would run their ideas by each other. Jughead would critique Y/N’s jokes and Y/N would critique Jughead’s stories. Sometimes, Jughead would get annoyed with all the physical humor Y/N would do in her acts because he thought she was being lazy while Y/N didn’t always appreciated Jughead’s use of prose nor his metaphors. However, their writing relationship worked and helped strengthen their long friendship.

     “Alright, I’m all ears.” Jughead closed his laptop and leaned forward, giving Y/N all his attention.

     “Okay, I came up with this one during history,” Y/N said.

     “You were writing jokes during history class? No wonder you have a C minus.”

     “It’s not my fault Mr. Sherman isn’t giving me good material. Anyway, it’s all about feminism and how I’m the worst feminist ever,” Y/N said.


    “Alright, so, you know how all these girls are upset about getting catcalled. I can’t go five minutes without hearing some girl complain about how a guy whistled at her or fed her a stupid pick up line. Yes, this is probably one of the most common ways that women are degraded by men but you must notice that it only happens to the hot girls. Think about it, when was the last time you saw an ugly girl walking down a street and some guy whistled at her and she rolled her eyes or told him to shut up. Because it doesn’t happen!”

   Jughead started chuckling. “That’s horrible.”

   “I’m not done. When you have a face like this,” Y/N gestured to her own face, “you take what you can get. I am probably the only reason catcalling still exists because when I guy says ‘Yo baby, you got some fries to go with that shake?’, I say, ‘Honey, I don’t just have fries, I also come with a burger and your choice of toy’.”

    Jughead burst out laughing and he held his stomach because it hurt so much. He had tears in his eyes and when he wiped them away, Y/N was smirking. “Do you really say that stuff to guys?”

    “Yes, yes I do. It’s amazing that I’m still single, right?”

    Jughead sighed. “You know, you’re not hideous, Y/N.”

    “Gee, thanks, Jughead. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

    “I didn’t mean it like that,” Jughead said.

   “Didn’t mean what like what?” Veronica asked.

   She and Betty had just walked in and were standing at their booth.

   “Jughead just said that I was not hideous and it’s probably the most confusing compliment I’ve ever received,” Y/N said.

   “Well, he’s right, you’ve got great legs,” Veronica said.

    “See, Veronica appreciates me!”

   Y/N moved over and Veronica sat next to her. Jughead rolled his eyes.

  “You’re so sensitive.”

   “Your face is so sensitive!”

   “Oh, could you stop being a child for a second?”

   But Jughead had to fight back a laugh since Veronica and Betty were already in stitches. As the two girls laughed, they had genuine joy in their eyes but when Jughead looked at Y/N, there was something missing. They didn’t sparkle like they used to when she told a joke. Sure, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat but when the emotion didn’t reach her eyes, something was up.

   “So, Y/N, do you have any new material?” Betty asked.

   “Yes, but it will definitely trigger all the feminists. It’s going to be great.” Y/N grinned again.

    They quickly fell into a conversation concerning Jason Blossom and Polly which Y/N was barely paying attention to. Whenever Jughead looked her way, she was staring out the window, looking at the pitch black night. Something was definitely wrong but he couldn’t say anything, not right there. 

    Suddenly, her phone dinged and Y/N jumped before answering her phone. Her eyebrows furrowed immediately and then she stiffened.

    “What is it, Y/N?” Veronica asked.

   “I have to go, the maternal parental unit is beckoning me home. I must bid you all adieu.” 

    Veronica let her out of the booth and Y/N turned to Pop’s and told him to make her special to go. 

   “What’s going on?” Betty asked.

   “She’s just worried that something’s going to happen to me if I don’t come home before ten o’clock. Parents, right?”

   “And you will take my suggestions on your catcalling joke?” Betty asked.

   “I’ll see what I can do with fitting the playbook in there but I’d rather not have to worry about the football team coming after me,” Y/N said.

   Betty shot her a look. “Y/N…”

   “Come on, did I not hold the camera while you scared the crap out of Chuck? I am a feminist, Betty, I just like having the door opened for me, I prefer not to pay for the bill at the end of a dinner date, and I really, really like having heavy things carried for me.”

    Betty smiled. “True, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
   “Okay, and Jughead, please mention my amazing charm and wit in your novel.”
    “We’ll see.”

    Y/N playfully rolled her eyes before strolling away and grabbing her dinner from Pop’s. Archie nearly ran straight into her as she tried to leave and he was entering.

     “Oh, sorry, Y/N! You okay?” Archie asked.

     “Yeah, you just nearly knocked the breath out of me. Someone’s been lifting.” Y/N playfully grabbed his arm and squeezed.

    “You’re leaving already?”

    “When my mom calls, I must answer. You do not want to see that woman angry. She puts Godzilla to shame.”

     Archie chuckled a bit. “That’s too bad. I was hoping we could talk.” 

    “About your deep, passionate love for me that you thought was unrequited for all these years?” Y/N spoke in a mock passionate voice. “Of course, my dear ginger, we will speak about it but at some other time. I really must be off.”

    Archie laughed nervously as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, you know me so well. I’ll talk to you later?”


   If only she had stayed at the diner a few minutes longer, if only Riverdale High’s talented class clown had decided to stay with her red-headed knight and the rest of us. Then maybe, just maybe, she would have avoided witnessing a tragedy. Nothing changes a person’s life like a parent dying, especially if that parent’s death was because of the other parent.

   Police cars surrounded the humble Y/L/N house and the neighbors were all out in the driveway and on the road, trying to get a peek at what had happened. The sheriff and the rest of the policemen did their best at trying to keep them away, but it wasn’t every day that a man killed his wife in cold blood and their daughter witnessed it. Kevin, Veronica, and Archie were three of the first people there while Jughead and Betty came a few minutes later. No one saw Mr. Y/L/N get led into a police car by the sheriff nor did anyone get a glimpse of Mrs. Y/L/N’s body in a body bag, but everyone kept trying to get a peek.

    “Is Y/N okay?” Jughead asked.

    “I think so, she hasn’t come outside at all, though,” Archie said.

     “I can’t believe this happened to Y/N of all people. She must feel awful,” Veronica said.

    “Part of me thinks this is some sort of horrid, cruel joke or prank, but it can’t be,” Betty said. “I just want to talk to her.”

    “Well, they’re not letting anyone in,” Archie said.

    Veronica turned to Kevin and his eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t know, V.”

    “Come on, Kev, you have strings, pull them.”

    Kevin gave up quickly but managed to convince his dad that at least one of his friends should be allowed to go see her.

    “Who’s the closest to her?” the sheriff asked.

    “Well, Jughead, Betty, and I have known her since we were three,” Archie said.

    “You should go see her, Archie,” Jughead said. “I’m not good in these kinds of moments.”

    “Are you sure? You’re her best friend.”

    “Yeah, I’m sure.”

    The sheriff let Archie through and instructed him to be extremely careful about walking into the crime scene. The CSI team was spread throughout the Y/L/N home, looking for any sort of incriminating evidence against Mr. Y/L/N. It was like a ghost house now because Y/N’s house used to be so light hearted and filled with light. Mrs. Y/L/N would offer Y/N’s visiting friends cookies or other baked goods and would ignore Y/N’s comments about how cannabis would make her baking taste better. Mr. Y/L/N would seem like a threatening shadow since he was about 6′3″ and made of pure muscle—-doing four tours in Iraq could do that to a man. However, he seemed to be a big softie when Y/N was around.

    Archie didn’t even know what to say when he would see Y/N. She was never a super sensitive person but she rarely showed any emotion besides being goofy or taking things not too seriously. He wasn’t surprised when he found her leaning against the kitchen wall with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked up when she saw him and smiled.

   “My knight in a shining letterman jacket.”

    Archie couldn’t find the words to speak. They seemed to be caught in his throat and it wasn’t the first time Y/N had such an affect on him. She had done it the first time he saw her in preschool. She had been running away from Jughead because he was upset that she’d tried to steal his hat. She was laughing the whole time and teasing Jughead to come get her. When she ran smack into Archie and knocked him down onto the grass, all he could do was stare into the prettiest y/e/c eyes he had ever seen before in his life. So, yes, Y/N was right about him being in love with her. He just never had the guts to admit it. There was no way he would admit it right then and there. So, he did the next best thing: he held her in his arms.

    Y/N didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his neck. She didn’t cry or shake or do anything that most people would do in that situation. She was just quiet.

     “Are you okay?” he finally whispered.

     “Peachy,” Y/N muttered into his skin. She pulled away a little. “My house has turned into a Law & Order crime scene. I’m just waiting for Olivia Benson to walk through that door and ask me questions.”
    He knew it was an attempt to make light of the situation, so he just smiled. “Still joking around.”

    “I have to.” Y/N looked at him. “Hey, so, is everyone else here? I’m dying to get out of this house.”
   “Are you sure? Don’t they have to question you?”
   “Yeah, but they can’t be too mad at me wanting to get some air,” Y/N said.

   Archie nodded and they walked outside together. Y/N paused for a split second when she saw how many people were standing outside of her house. Then, she strode confidently over to her friends with Archie at her side.

   “Y/N!” Betty, Veronica, and Kevin immediately hugged her while Jughead simply watched on.

    “Don’t squeeze the life out of me, ladies and Kev. I’m fine.” She pulled away from them.

     “What…what happened in there, Y/N?” Betty asked.

      Y/N glanced around before leaning closer to her friends. “There isn’t much to say: my mom told my dad that she was leaving him for the man she’s been sleeping with for the past three months and my dad responded by shooting her in the face.”

   “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Veronica said.

   “Did you see it happen?” Kevin asked.

   “I heard it. My dad was sitting at the table, drinking a beer while my mom bled out onto the kitchen floor. He called 911 and now we’re here.”

    None of her friends knew how to deal with it, not really. Jason Blossom still had just died but this one hit far too close to home for all of them.

    “I hate to break this up but Y/N needs to come to the station for some questions,” the sheriff said.

    “But she didn’t do anything,” Archie said.

     “Of course not. We just want to clarify the story.”
     “I’ll be fine, Ginger.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
     As Y/N walked along with the sheriff with her head held high to begin strengthening the case against her father, we couldn’t help but be amazed. Most people would have been crying or screaming at that point. But Y/N was still joking around. It was as though none of this had really happened. Then again, Y/N Y/L/N was certainly not like most people, but she still felt grief and sadness, she just wouldn’t show it to anyone for a long time. For the next few weeks to come, Y/N acted completely normal. She continued cracking jokes in class and in the hallways. She would go to the Vixens practice and make fun of Cheryl’s instructions or see the Bulldogs practice and cheer for Archie. When her mother’s funeral came around, her eulogy was full of humor and hope. She didn’t dare mention how her mother died nor that she was having an affair. We all became concerned that Y/N wasn’t displaying grief or any kind of emotion besides happiness at the funeral nor at the wake. In fact, when our dear Pagliacci finally expressed her feelings, it was on a normal night.

     “Just you, Jughead?” Pop asked as he slid him a milkshake.

     Jughead nodded. “It seems as though I’ve been stood up, this never happens.”

     “Maybe she’ll show up, still,” Pop said. 

     “It’s almost nine thirty. She never comes later than eight.”
      “Still can’t believe what happened to her. First Jason Blossom and now Y/N Y/L/N. A real shame.’

     Jughead nodded, closed his laptop, and called Y/N.


     “Where are you? I’m still waiting for you at Pop’s,” Jughead said.

     “Ha! I probably fooled you, didn’t I? I’m probably busy writing a new joke or I’ve gone underground because I’ve been a spy this whole time. Leave a message at the beep!”

     Jughead groaned and hung up. Y/N never let her calls roll to voicemail. Something was definitely wrong.

     “Hey, Juggie, where’s Y/N? She’s usually with you by now, isn’t she?” Betty asked as she slid next to him in the seat.

     “Yeah, but she isn’t answering her phone.”

      “What?” Veronica asked as she and Archie sat on the other side of the booth. “She always answers the phone, even during class.” 

     “Especially during class,” Archie said. “We have to go see her.” 

     “It might not be a good idea for all of us to rush her at her house,” Jughead said. 

     “But we still all have to go. Y/N’s our friend too, Jughead,” Veronica said.

     “Fine, but we have to do it gently.”

    As they all headed out, Veronica grabbed Betty. “You don’t think she hurt herself, do you?”
    “I would say Y/N would never do that but I don’t know. She was always super close with her parents and one of them just killed the other in front of her. There’s no telling what she might do,” Betty said.

    They got to Y/N’s house in record time. Archie rang the doorbell and knocked on the door without any answer. The group quickly got more anxious and Jughead grabbed the spare key under the potted plan on the porch and opened the door.

    “Y/N, are you home?” Jughead called.

   “I’ll try her room,” Betty said.

    “I’ll try her parents’ room,” Veronica said.

    “I guess we’ll all split up until we find her?” Archie asked.

    They nodded and went their separate ways. Betty ended up being right because when she knocked on Y/N’s door, she heard something shifting around.

     “Y/N?” she tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s me, Betty, I just want to know if you’re okay.”
    “I’m fine.” Y/N’s voice sounded muffled through the door. “I’m just sitting against the door, I got tired of sitting on my bed.”

    Betty slid down to sit on the other side of the door and texted the others that she had found Y/N. “Why didn’t you meet Jughead tonight?”

    “Oh, that’s what I forgot about. To be honest, Betty Blonde, I don’t have any new material right now. I’d hate to just be critiquing JJ’s work the entire time.”

    “He wouldn’t have minded if you would’ve just called. He was really worried about you. We all were.”
    “I’m fine, though. I just wanted to take a nap and then I think I overslept. All I wanted to do was sleep today, honestly.”

    Y/N definitely sounded sleepy and quite sad. The need for sleep was a symptom of depression and it would make sense for Y/N to be depressed in that moment. Betty definitely had to handle this carefully.

    “Do you remember the time that Polly and I got into a big fight and I went to my room crying?”
    “You have to be more specific.”

    Betty smiled slightly. “We were eight and I called you because I thought that she would never speak to me again. Then, you came over with your CD player and the soundtrack to the Aristocats and demanded that I dance with you to “Everybody Wants to Be a Cat”. So we dance and sang around my room for hours just listening to that song on repeat. Then, you told me that if Polly didn’t want to be my sister anymore, I would always be your sister. And that’s when I knew that you were my very best friend. You made me forget about my problems and I can only hope that one day I can make you forget about yours.”

    “Yeah, I remember your mom yelling at us for being too loud and then banning me from coming over for a week,” Y/N said. “Did anyone else come with you?”

    “Yeah, Archie, Jughead, and Veronica.”
    “Tell them to please not eat all of my food. I can barely cook, let alone shop for food.”

     Betty laughed a little. “Okay, I will.”


     Betty went downstairs and was nearly knocked down by Archie since he was the first one to reach her.

     “How is she? Is she okay?”

     “I think she’s suffering some form of depression. All she wants to do is sleep and she wasn’t motivated to do her favorite thing in the world: write jokes.”

     “That’s so sad. Do you think we could talk to her?” Veronica asked.

     “Yeah, one at a time, maybe,” Betty said.

     And that was how it went, one at a time, the four of us tried to talk to Y/N and get her to let us in, not just into her room but into her mind and emotions. It proved to be a difficult feat. 

    “And I must say, the best thing you ever did was ask Cheryl if all her hair was hers in front of all the River Vixens.” Veronica chuckled. “Her face had to have matched her hair. And it was really nice of you to not judge me because of what my father did. No one really does that in this town.”

    “You’re not your father, Veronica,” Y/N whispered. “You must dress a lot better than him.” 

    Veronica laughed a little. “Do you ever stop joking around?”

     A few minutes later, Veronica walked downstairs and she shrugged. “She seems to be acting fairly normal with me, just a little more subdued.”

    Jughead played with his hands. “She’s definitely down but she’s still acting like she’s not. Maybe I should go to talk to her next.” Jughead turned to Archie. “If that’s okay with you.” 

    Archie nodded. “Of course. She’s more likely to open up to you anyway.” 

    “Maybe,” Jughead said. “She wasn’t very open for these past few weeks, though.”

    “Trust me, she’ll say something to you.” Archie didn’t seem bitter about this at all, rather just sad that Y/N hadn’t really confided in him.

     Jughead opened his mouth to speak but kept it close as he went upstairs to talk to Y/N. He didn’t bother knocking on the door as he sat with his back against it. “So, is your phone dead or something? I called you.”

    “I was asleep.”

    “I heard. Are you having fun in there?”

    “No, not really.”

    “You know what would make it a lot more fun?”

    “Dave Chapelle?”
    “No, if you let me in. Come on, Y/N. Two’s better than one.”

     “But there’s five of us in this house.”

     “Yeah, but let’s be honest: you are more likely to let me in than the rest of them.”

    “And why is that?”

    “Because we are the most alike. Because we share so much time together. You don’t have to be so happy all the time, you know. It’s okay to be sad, or melodramatic, as long as it isn’t constant.” 

    There was a long pause and for a moment, Jughead thought he lost her.

    “I don’t like feeling sad, Jughead. It feels like a huge weight is on my chest and shoulders. Joking around makes me and everyone else feel better. How could I be sad?”
    “You’re allowed to be upset, Y/N. Especially after what you’ve just been through. It isn’t healthy to keep all this stuff bottled inside or keep joking about it. And it definitely isn’t healthy to try to push the people who care about you away.”

     There a long, tension-filled pause before Y/N spoke again.

     “My dad did four consecutive tours in Iraq. He became a decorated officer in the US Navy and did a lot of covert stuff. I was proud of him, though, because my dad was a big, brave soldier. Mom didn’t feel the same way, though,” Y/N said. “She felt lonely because he was never around for four years. So, she started staying out later and coming home later. I knew about the men, all of them. I’ve never seen them, but I would hear her talking to them when she thought I was doing homework or sleeping. I hated her for doing that to my dad, the hero, and hoped it would stop when he got back. Well, it didn’t because for all three months he’s been back, she’s been screwing some other guy. I wanted to tell him but I couldn’t. He seemed too happy to be home but he wasn’t as happy as before he left. He would get real moody sometimes and real unpredictable with his actions.”

     Y/N sighed. “They started fighting a lot and the more they fought, the more jokes I wrote to try and forget about it. Jokes are an escape because if I joke about it, it’s not real. That night, my mom told my dad that she was leaving him for the guy that she’s been sleeping with for the past three months. His PTSD was triggered and he shot her, right in my kitchen.”

    Jughead swallowed and he could only imagine what Y/N must have been feeling. Suddenly, the door opened and Y/N stood there, looking like a dejected doll. Jughead scrambled to his feet.

    “Then, he sat there, drinking a beer as though he had just shot and killed a dear rather than my mom. He went on a mini rampage throughout the house, breaking things and screaming but he never touched me. All I could do was stare at my mom’s dead body as she kept bleeding until there wasn’t any blood left,” Y/N whispered. “And the worst part is he didn’t say anything to me.”

     And that was the first time I ever saw Y/N Y/L/N cry. She is going to hate that I wrote this, but to be completely honest, it’s necessary to explain the kind of person she is. She has to be one of the most stubborn but funniest people I ever met. To see her so vulnerable and miserable in that moment was nearly too shocking. She cried for about twenty minutes, not wailing or wheezing or making any other sort of sound affect. Her shoulders shook as tears ran down her face and I hugged her, feeling tears of my own well up. Misery certainly does love company.

    When Y/N pulled away, she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. “Sorry about that meltdown.”

    “It’s fine, I’ve seen you at your worst before.”

    “This isn’t my worst?” Y/N teased gently.

     “No, I do recall a time where you forgot to bring swimming clothes with you to the pool but still jumped in.”

    “Yeah, I spent the whole day soaking wet,”  Y/N said. “But I was seven.”

    “The most stubborn seven year old I’ve ever met.”

    Y/N shrugged. “I’m sorry if I worried you about me.”

    “I wasn’t that worried, but the others thought you might be suicidal.”

    Y/N scoffed. “I could never hurt myself. All the possible ways are horrifying. Plus, I’m a bit of a wimp.”

    Jughead smiled. “Same old Y/N.”

   “Same old Jughead.”

   Y/N followed Jughead downstairs and slowly approached Archie. Betty and Veronica sat up in their seats at the dining table while Archie just kept staring at Y/N, looking anxious.

    “Hi, guys, sorry if I made you think that something bad happened. I was just a little down is all but I appreciate your concern,” Y/N said. “It’s good to know that I’ve got people looking out for me, even if it is this motley crew.”

    They all laughed except Archie who walked slowly towards her as though moving any faster would scare her away. “Please, try not to scare us like that again. I hate to think that something else could have happened to you or—”

    Y/N cut him off by cupping his face in her hands and pressing her mouth to his. Betty looked stunned, Veronica seemed smug,and Jughead fought the urge to roll his eyes.

     “Perfect timing,” Jughead muttered as he walked to stand by Betty.

    Archie kissed Y/N back almost immediately but pulled away. “I, uh, what was that for?”

    “I knew you wouldn’t do it and I felt a little sentimental, Ginger,” Y/N said with a smirk.

     And that is the story of Riverdale’s Pagliacci. While she couldn’t cheer herself up, her friends definitely helped her. 

Heartstrings (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

A/N: So this one is based off a request that I unfortunately can’t find (sorry omg). That being said, it ended up changing a lot from what the request actually was. I’m not sure if I’m completely satisfied with it, but hey, here it is!

Summary: You’re asked to be a part of the Hamilton orchestra, and then some. Of course, that means spending a bit of quality time with one Lin-Manuel Miranda

Word Count: 2,918


You made your way downtown, your violin in hand. You hummed to yourself to calm your nerves. It wouldn’t do well to look as anxious as you felt on your first day of work.

You were to be in the orchestra for a show called Hamilton. You were still in shock as to how you got asked to be a part of a show whose intentions were to go off-Broadway just freshly out of university. Sure, you had been playing several instruments since the age of 5, and had attended Juilliard, but you thought there would be a lot more of the clichéd “starving artist” period before you would make anything remotely big. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You just had to work harder not to fuck this up.

A friend of yours had been recently in touch with a man named Alex Lacamoire, who was working on Hamilton. Upon being asked if there were any openings for the orchestra, Alex had said that there was still a lot of work to be done before an orchestra could even be incorporated, but if they had anyone in mind he would definitely give them a shot. Not even a week later you had had a one-on-one audition with the great man of music himself.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Would you mind explaining to me what a "fish queen", "comedy queen", and "pageant queen" are? And maybe use examples of past/present queens so I can get an idea of what is what... because I get so confused when they use those terms cause I have no clue what they're talking about lol

They are all almost like stereotypes that say if a queen does one thing she therefore must be a certain way all the time. But I don’t think you should put anyone in a box or label them.

However the terms generally mean:

“Fishy Queen” - is a queen that looks very stereotypically feminine and dresses very feminine and looks very much like a woman. Many would consider Gia Gunn, Courtney Act, Katya Zamo, April Carrion, Naomi Smalls, Valentina, Willam Belli, Jujubee, Bible Girl etc as fishy queens. The term ‘fishy’ I believe derives from the smell of vajayjay (gross lol)

“Pageant Queen” - is basically as it says, a queen who competes in pageants. They often have very big hair, big jewellery and often wear extremely rhinestoned (if that’s even a word!) costumes. Notable Pageant Queens are Alyssa Edwards, Roxxxy Andrews, Kennedy Davenport, Stacey ‘Henny’ Lane Matthews etc

“Comedy Queens” - are again literally what you would think, queens who do comedy. Examples include Bianca Del Río, Alaska Thunderfuck, Bob The Drag Queen, Jinkx Monsoon, Detox iCunt, Ginger Minge, Willam Belli, Trixie Mattel, Thorgy Thor etc.


These terms/ labels are not exclusive i.e. You can be more than one. For example, by these definitions Willam would considered a 'comedy queen’ and a 'fishy queen’. Gia Gunn is both a 'fishy queen’ and a 'pageant queen’. Katya is also both a 'fishy queen’ and a 'comedy queen’.

However as I said before I don’t think you should label people so exclusively necessarily. Also there are many other different queen categories such as a 'look queen’ which is a queen who is only good at presenting a look and has few talents elsewhere. Again this isn’t always strictly true as some may label Roxxxy as a 'look queen’ but she is also an AMAZING lyricist and rapper 😉
Also many queens sing as part of their gig eg Adore, Courtney, Willam, Trixie. And again Trixie sings more serious songs and does stand up comedy therefore she is not categorised into one specific box. Similarly Alaska sings comedy songs. So just because you do one thing doesn’t restrict you from doing another!

Hope it makes more sense now!! 👍🏼💖😇

Feel free to add other examples of each type of queen!😁

(Ps this is just my perspective I’m not saying it’s set in stone or right or wrong, don’t come for me 😉)


Bound in Blight and Bliss Chapter 4 - Anguish and Ardor

“Tell me again.” The Elvenking’s commanding voice rang low and lilting through the empty throne room, his normally stoic tone tinged with just a hint of uncharacteristic anticipation and a more than healthy dose of regal decree, enough that the servant cowering before him didn’t dare object her Liege’s order.

Still, Iôlhel couldn’t quite suppress her heavy inward sigh, careful as she was not to let the truth of her emotions show on her face, though genuinely she was heartily weary of this incessant repetition. Not that she’d let on anything of the ilk; she was much too respectful and afraid of her King to disobey. She shifted nervously where she stood at those dangerously mutinous thoughts, however fleeting they’d been, and tightened the hands she had clasped behind her back, her fingers toying nervously with the tie of the apron affixed about her waist, before she glanced bashfully at the foot of her King’s throne and then back to her scuffed boots once more. Something about the Elvenking had always made her skittish, had her nerves pulling taught, caused her voice to fail her at the most inopportune of times.

“She is quite unique among your guests, My Lord,” Iôlhel said after a lengthy heartbeat, her words notably softer than the Kings, though just as sure somehow; perhaps it was the subject, you, that helped to steel the bend of her spine and straighten the quaver of her voice, “She rarely ever asks for anything, and if she does request a service she makes it clear that I can refuse or object. She treats me with great kindness and fairness.” Iôlhel had almost said like equals, but she heartily suspected that was a prospect just of this King’s reach, a concept that he wouldn’t quite understand or abide, so astutely she held her tongue.

“What does she say of her status? Of her tasks here in the Kingdom?” The monarch asked, the stark interest sparking brightly behind his glittering eyes belaying the forced casualness of his stance, splayed as it was on the magnanimous seat of his throne. Iôlhel had been around enough nobles to know when they were trying to keep up appearances, to don the stony, diplomatic faces of their forebears, and now she could sense that very same concentrated aloofness in her Liege. Funnily enough, before your appearance in this court as one of her charges she had never really noticed that trait in the King. Now it was all she could see.

Iôlhel had to smile at the Kings latest inquiry, thinking fondly of how just last night you’d complained passionately about the captain, Tauriel she thought her name was, and her fierce training regimen as you’d peeled off the worn boots from your screaming feet, growling something to the effect of damn it all to the fires of Mordor, but for now Iôlhel thought she’d keep that particular amusing instance to herself.

“She is grateful for the rare opportunity that you have given her to prove herself in your court,” Iôlhel supplied, mentally patting herself on the back for such a diplomatic response; perhaps she was picking up a thing or two here in the courts of Mirkwood, “She is enthusiastic and eager to perform her tasks. However…” Iôlhel said before trailing off, wondering fervently if she should divulge a simple, but revealing, fact about her new Mistress.

“What?” The King commanded, leaning forward in his lofty seat as his resonant voice thrummed through the echoing chamber, looming over her as his celadon eyes flashed brightly, “Speak, child.”

Iôlhel gulped heavily before she replied, reasoning that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter now anyway. Your words from the previous night flitted through her mind then, making fondness for you grow deep in her breast, I think we are both prisoners, Iôlhel. It just so happens that my cage is more gilded than yours….

How right her Mistress was.

“She longs for a taste of freedom, My Lord. She speaks fondly of the forests just outside the Kingdom’s walls. I think she yearns to see them.” Iôlhel paused then, glancing down at her boots, scuffed and worn by time and trade, weighted by the invisible fetters of her post, “It is a longing that I can understand.”

The King didn’t speak for long moments in which Iôlhel’s heart hammered fervently in her throat, pulse cloying her huffed breaths and sparking deep rooted panic to bubble in her chest. Had she misspoken? Had she angered her King? She’d heard the rumors of his wrath; though he was slow to it, once provoked he could easily strike down enemy or offender, friend or foe, without so much as batting a starlit eyelash. Iôlhel shivered from something very far from cold then, hoping fervently that she’d leave this audience in one piece.

When the King finally spoke it was with unexpectedly compassionate words that lacked their usual sardonic bite, “I suppose you would, bŷrath.” Iôlhel didn’t dare to look up, even as a blush spread hotly on her cheekbones, her heart fluttering down to its rightful place in her breast at the King’s unexpected softness. “And what-” The King paused his statement abruptly, making Iôlhel glance up hastily to ensure that all was well with him. She supposed the King looked almost nervous then, as if he was holding his breath, “What does she say of me?”

It was only due to her many years of dutiful service as a maid and loyal servant that Iôlhel managed to blink back her momentous surprise. To her budding amusement and incredulity she realized that the King was indeed holding his breath, fervently awaiting her answer. Recognizing an opportunity to grant her Mistress additional favor in this court, something that you alone deserved, she canted her head respectfully and replied.

“She speaks well of you, Your Majesty. She has inquired to me about your nature and disposition, and has seemed pleased with what she has discovered thus far.” The King sat forward on his carven throne as Iôlhel spoke, fully unmasked interest glittering clear and unveiled in his eyes. Iôlhel had to bite back a smile at the fervor with which he hung to her every word; it would seem that the King cared for her Mistress much more than his stoic, stony temperament let on, of that she was sure.

“And what did you tell her?” The King asked, voice sharp and edged with a dangerous warning of what would befall her if her answer was not to his liking. Squaring her shoulders, feeling steadied by the thought of you as her ally, she answered.

“I spoke truthfully,” Iôlhel said, raising her gaze to meet her Kings and barely suppressing the shiver that skittered down her spine in response to the intensity banked in his eyes, “I told her that you are fair and just, that your Kingdom is prosperous and your lands vast. I told her that you are a great King.” Iôlhel diplomatically chose to leave out the part about mentioning the King’s wife to you, seeing as she quite liked her head where it sat on her shoulders and didn’t intend to see it parted from her body any time soon due to a few careless words. Judging by the obvious approval glittering in the King’s eyes, she’d made the right call.

One of his pale, lithe hands rose from the arm of his chair to cup his chin, his long fingers stroking almost imperceptibly at the sharp cut of his cheekbones before he canted his head in a gesture brimming with regal intent.

“I thank you for your insight, bŷrath,” The King said, assurance firmly rooted in his tone once more, as if her words had steeled a yawning  tremor in him that he had been  steadfastly suppressing, a deep sense of unease that she’d managed to quell with her half-truths. “You are dismissed; go see to your duties.”

With a curt but sincere bow, Iôlhel all but ran from the overbearing, cloying presence of her King, deeply grateful when she could gulp in lungful’s of the sweet, fresh air that filtered through the cavernous hallway just outside the King’s throne room. Swiping a hand about her brow, Iôlhel couldn’t help but smile as she thought of the aid she’d provided her Mistress this day. You had proven to be an unexpected, but immensely welcome, companion to break up the dull monotony of Iôlhel’s  life, the very least she could do was put in a good word for you with their unruly, tempestuous King.

The very King whose eyes seemed to glint with curiosity and interest when you were the subject of conversation, sympathy and even a hint of mirth dancing in his cold gaze for the first time in many, many years. Iôlhel had seen very few miracles in her day, but that she was glad to count among them.

anonymous asked:

how do u take/organize your notes?

Generally, I take notes using OneNote - and it’s like the best thing ever.

I’ve tried Notability and Word before, but nothing is as organised as OneNote (esp for class notes), so you may want to try that too. (plus i use OneNote for bullet journal and other things too - it’s basically my life)

Class notes: what I do basically is that i would usually have the pdf version of the lecture slides on the left hand side and add my own lecture notes on the right hand side (in red color). (btw I use “-” to connect the words i want to jot down / the words that i heard, i don’t necessarily do complete sentences since this is faster and it helps me to capture so much more information)

Readings: Yes, I take notes for readings, and i personally think that this saves me time from looking at the whole thing before exams. I either do outline of the articles from scratch, or just add some summaries and notes next to the pdf printouts of the readings. The same thing goes for textbooks if I want to do an outline of them. (I use blue for my own summaries and notes)

Study Guides: this is the part where i combine everything into one word document. Since i personally love to study printed notes before exams, I would basically go through all my notes mentioned above, and compile (through copy and paste mostly since you have already done everything) them into one word document - sorted by topics. So, the only thing I need to study during the revision period for exams is basically one Word document (or a booklet).

Hey, y’all want a musical similar to Les Miserables in that:

  • It deals with timely issues and makes them relevant to a broader population–in this case: misogyny, refugees, politics, and religious intolerance;
  • It’s more of an opera because everything is sung;
  • Is also based on a novel written by Victor Hugo;
  • Will make you cry; and
  • Is decently close to the source material,

BUT is different in that:

  • The two main characters are a woman-of-color, and a disabled man;
  • Is all in French (though, there exists a mostly-accurate version with English subtitles);
  • Is more of a pop-rock-opera feel with avant-garde, minimalist sets, costuming, and choreography (and mostly dancing instead of walking around so it’s kind of a ballet too??);
  • Features some of the best singers to come out of France and Canada and also one from Haiti and he kicks butt; and
  • Can more or less be watched totally on youtube in chunks?

Then boy oh boy, do I have a gift for you!

Notre Dame De Paris (<<<click that right there)

This isn’t the Disney version, so be prepared for pain, and to get really mad at the injustices of… lots of stuff: Society, for how it treats refugees and POC and disabled people; cowards hiding behind religion to justify hate and their own sick desires; the scum of the earth, otherwise known as Phoebus the Dudebro; and boy I could just go on…

But also, be prepared to hear some of the best musical talent to ever grace your earholes. Also also, beautiful poetry. Like I said, this subtitled translation is okay–it’s got some glaring inconsistencies, and also some poor choices in wording (most notably, translating “astre” as “star” in reference to the moon, when in the same section they also translate “etoile” as “star”; “astre” would be better translated here as “heavenly body”.). BUT it’s still beautiful, and makes Hugo’s–dare I say it–somewhat dense storyline and writing really accessible and understandable.

Other notable features include:

  • Ace (maybe Aro?) Grignoire, Wingman Extraordinaire
  • 80s rock god x priest= Frollo’s fringe-wing robes, and it’s glorious
  • Grignoire’s stripey pants that I need desperately
  • Blatant busting of racists and xenophobes; see also, overt political statements
  • Grignoire’s storyteller-mode trenchcoat (also using him as both a narrator and character was such a clever way to tie things together, I’m envious of this writing)
  • You thought Quasimodo was the main character? SURPRISE, it’s Esmeralda, as it should be.
  • Grignoire the Sassmaster
  • Did I mention Grignoire? Everything about him. He my fav. Stripey bab. Post-grunge poet-bae. Sweet precious child-o-mine.

TL;DR go watch Notre Dame de Paris (found here: ) and you’ll thank yourself later. Y’know, once the tears have subsided and you can feel your heart again.

anonymous asked:

The Doctor leans into the kiss, reveling in the feeling of the Host's lips against his. His hand slips from the Host, moving up to cup his face. He pulls away briefly and says "I love you, my Sunshine."

The Host blushes notably from those words, breath getting caught in his throat for a moment. He knew he couldn’t handle those words being told, with actual meaning behind them. Because he knew he wasn’t ready to say them back.
He laid one of his own hands onto the Doctor’s cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles. “Meine Liebe.”, he said softly, turning his head ever so softly, it wouldn’t have been noticeable if he weren’t hold.

ichxgo  asked:

"I already said you were a quick learner, no need to rub it in. Besides, you weren't thinking about kissing me when you were in my inner world, so it makes it that much more..." Searches for the right word. "Notable." Looks back over, a brow raising at that attitude in your voice. "Oh, right. I forgot about that." Shrugs. "It was kind of an exaggeration. But I'm not in any danger, so." Doesn't tell you not to worry, because you wouldn't admit to it anyway. Settles closer into your side.

Snorts, “You weren’t thinkin’ about kissin’ me either, so that goes both ways.” Although, at one point you did ask for his name and that seems to be the step in your friend making process that comes right after fighting your sworn enemy, so maybe there was something there. It was bad timing though. Absently loops an arm around you to idly trail nails across the small of your back when you lean closer. Blinks. “How d’you forget about- Oh… That’s the part that was exaggerated.” Nods a little, finding sudden interest in just about anything that’s not you. “Ok, that whole conversation makes more sense now. I thought you musta suddenly had amazing self control ta be that hungry and not be actin’ on it.”

Maghrebi Arabic - Darija

Maghrebi Arabic or Darija is a cover term for the varieties of Arabic spoken in the Maghreb, including Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia, and Malta. In Algeria, Maghrebi Arabic as a colloquial language was taught as a separate subject under French colonization - some textbooks exist. Speakers of Maghrebi call their language Derija or Darija (“dialect”). It’s primarily used as a spoken language; written communication is done in Modern Standard Arabic (or French), as well as news broadcasting. Maghrebi Arabic is used for almost all spoken communication, as well as in TV dramas and on advertising boards in Morocco and Tunisia, whilst Modern Standard Arabic (الفصحى (al-)fuṣ-ḥā) is used for written communication. Maghrebi has a vocabulary mostly from Arabic, with significant Berber substrates, some loan-words from Berber and French and to some degree Spanish and even Italian, the languages of the historical European occupiers. The varieties of Darija have a significant degree of mutual intelligibility, specially between geographically adjacent ones (e.g. Algerian and Moroccan, or Tunisian and Libyan). Conversely, Darija is very hard to understand for Arabic speakers from the Mashriq or Mesopotamia, the easiest being Libyan Arabic and the hardest Moroccan Arabic and Maltese Language.

Maghrebi Arabic continues to evolve by integrating new French or English words, notably in technical fields, or by replacing old French and Spanish ones with Modern Standard Arabic within some circles; more educated and upper-class people who code-switch between Maghrebi Arabic and Modern Standard Arabic have more French and Spanish loanwords, especially the latter came from the time of al-Andalus. In Eastern Arab countries the similar term (العامية (al-)`āmmiyya) is more commonly used for the colloquial varieties of Arabic there. Maghrebi dialects all use n- as the first person singular prefix on verbs, distinguishing them from Middle Eastern dialects and Modern Standard Arabic. They frequently borrow words from French (in Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia), Spanish (in Morocco) and Italian (in Libya and to a lesser extent Tunisia) and conjugate them according to the rules of Arabic with some exceptions (like passive tense, for example). Since it is rarely written, there is no standard and it is free to change quickly and to pick up new vocabulary from neighboring languages. This is somewhat similar to what happened to Middle English after the Norman conquest. Linguistically, Siculo-Arabic—and therefore its descendant Maltese—are considered Maghrebi Arabic, but are no longer mutually intelligible with the other varieties. When discussing modern languages, the word is often given a geographic definition and limited to North Africa.
Varieties. Varieties of Arabic:

Koinés: Algerian Arabic, Moroccan Arabic, Tunisian Arabic, Libyan Arabic

Fully pre-Hilalian: Jebli Arabic, Jijel Arabic, Siculo-Arabic (extinct), Maltese language (descended from Sicilian Arabic, but influenced lexically by Sicilian, Italian, French, and more recently, English)

Bedouin: Hassaniya Arabic, Saharan Arabic