smack upside the head

Update

Finally turned my iPad on after a good year of not using it. Went through my old notes and found this:

“ Last year, he broke his arm. Penelope had roped him into going surfing at five in the morning and convinced him he could handle the high tide. Instead, he was throw at warp speed from his fish and hit the sand bar with brute force. His Uncle Calum once dropped a four litre jug of sweet tea on his bare little toes when he was four and visiting his Dad during a few stops on the Warped Tour. Their energetic mutt, Rocco, had ran over him when he was a baby and sent him rolling across the back lawn like a boccie ball. His best friend had smacked him upside the head a few times with his bass case when carrying it from the garage to his car and he had lost count of how many times he had accidentally electrocuted himself while setting up vox boards to record with. All of that, Connor could survive. He would even handle his older sister purposefully socking him in the balls when he called her a ‘granola freak’ or when Miles Hemmings accidentally hit him in the special area while having a kick around behind a venue. Connor would take any of those situations over the feeling he currently had jumbled up inside of him, scratching like sharp nails against his sides and pulling at his lining, opening up wounds wherever they could. If this was heartbreak, he didn’t know how anyone survived it and considering he was actively trying to be a musician, Connor couldn’t imagine turning this unimaginable ache into stunning poetry. ”

Just a random paragraph. I’m not sure what I was trying to turn it into. It made me smile and miss writing about the little families on here. It would be really nice to get into it again, but so far no success. I have a couple days off later in the week. Let’s see what comes of it.

The Problem With Cringe Culture

From what I’ve seen, the phenomenon dubbed Cringe Culture is a paragon of insecurity, internalized misogyny, and self-loathing.

Let me elaborate a little here:  here on Tumblr (and in life in general, honestly), a lot of folks are very pre-occupied with what is or isn’t Cringey.  It’s a dynamic somewhat reminiscent of an eighth grade schoolyard, but that’s really not the issue here.  

What Tumblr folks dub Cringey are typically things that are enjoyed by young teens (in particular, young girls) exploring fandom and fan creativity for the first time.

Yes, these teens are frequently obnoxious, overzealous, and loud, but it’s an exciting time for kids:  we as adults may have comfortably settled into our interests, but for them it’s an avenue of unsupervised self-expression they may not have experienced before.  Moreover, they have little to no experience in moderating themselves, which is one of the reasons why I believe the act of mocking them to be a somewhat callous one.  

Are they occasionally annoying?  Subjectively, yes.  I frequently find young teens and tweens annoying, particularly when they’re being loud and obnoxious during my allotted writing time.  But I don’t shame them for it, on here or in real life, because I’m an adult and they are literally children .  

And most importantly, so are the people mocking them.

I’ll elaborate once again:  I’m nineteen.  Most of my friends, both on here and on my other blog, are fellow chill late teens and twenty-somethings.  And I’ve never seen any adult who’s secure in their own self-image do anything other than Do Their Own Thing and allow everyone else do the same.

In other words, I’ve been involved in fandom for a few years now, and almost everyone I’ve seen actively participating in cringe culture has turned out to be no older than seventeen or so themselves, and probably (consciously or otherwise) attempting to distance themselves from their “embarrassing” younger alter egos and feel more confident in their purported maturity. 

Because they probably did some Cringey things when they were fourteen, too:  maybe they drew manga OCs on DeviantArt with needlessly elaborate hair, ran a passionate SuperWhoLock blog, read Homestuck, wrote angsty poetry about turning into wolves, et cetera.  

Of course, the whole point here is that there is literally nothing wrong with any of these things:  they’re harmless examples of children exploring revenues of creativity for the first time, that we’ve been conditioned to find embarrassing.  

Now, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t have this phase myself:  I once got into an impassioned argument on Facebook with a bunch of One Direction fans when I was sixteen or so, in which I dismissed their obsession as being Stupid and Juvenile and proclaimed my favored Heavy Metal as being far superior.  

Now, I’m still not into One Direction in the slightest, but if I could go back in time I would probably smack my sixteen-year-old self upside the head and tell her to leave people alone and let them do their own thing.

Of course, a large part of my reasoning was also driven at the time by my unfortunate Not Like Other Girls phase, in which I wanted to distance myself from the silliness of my fellow teen girls as much as possible.  I may or may not have still been in my “I hate pink” phase, which I still shudder to think about to this day.

Which brings me to another one of Cringe Culture’s more problematic aspects:  it’s inherently a little misogynist, in that almost everyone who partakes in it is attempting to distance themselves from the interests of teenage girls.

Shows like Doctor Who, Steven Universe, Voltron, Supernatural, Yuri on Ice, and many others all have passionate and predominantly young female fanbases, and as such, people seem unwittingly inclined to see them as inherently vapid, annoying, or Cringey in a way that equally vocal male-dominated fandoms simply aren’t.  

Even being a Trekkie (Star Trek fan) was considered embarrassing when the fandom was predominantly female populated, although the means by which fanfiction and discourse was exchanged was via fan-run zines rather than Tumblr blogs.  Now that men are in on it, it’s considered one of the best fandoms there is.

More male populated fandoms such as Game of Thrones, the Walking Dead, the DC and Marvel cinematic universes, and Star Wars are just as impassioned, and have had just as many ideological issues in the past.  Yet are these things ever denigrated as being Cringy or annoying?  Not that I can recall.

Another one of my greatest issues with Cringe Culture is that it discourages passion:  I have never encountered a fandom, Cringey or otherwise, that hasn’t produced genuinely stunning works of art and fiction.  Moreover, I’ve never encountered a fandom that doesn’t have fans who have cited it as what saved them from depression or even suicide.  

So if someone’s passionate about something, even if it’s something of no value to you, it costs absolutely zero dollars to mind your own goddamn business and not taint their joy with your own insecurity, cynicism, and internalized self-loathing.  

Similarly, I can speak from experience when I say my interests and fandoms got me through the very worst period of my adolescence, and I’d be a significantly less happy person if I didn’t have still have them to fall back on.  Not everyone’s sole source of enjoyment and comfort in life comes from nihilistic memes.

So if you want to take a step towards fostering a more creative generation, take a step away from Cringe Culture.  Respect other people’s interests, and openly and unabashedly enjoy your own.  Question why you think certain interests are Cringey, and try to distance yourself from the mentality that you’re a better or cooler person for being less similar to young women.

And finally, try and forgive your fourteen-year-old self for whatever cringiness they may have been culpable of, and tell them that you love them anyway.

Albus is an old man now, and finally ready to move on. He dies peacefully in his sleep, unafraid because his father’s always told him that there’s no reason to fear death.

When he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is a face. He’s seen it in pictures before, young and smiling amidst his three best friends, laughing at Albus’s grandparents’ wedding, newspaper clippings showing him as an escaped prisoner. He recognizes this man to be his dad’s godfather, the brave man that Harry’s said grew up in a horrible house and would’ve given his life to keep his best friends safe without a second thought, who lived twelve years with dementors, escaped and was forced to live quietly in his old, dark house, who died so unexpectedly at the hand of his own cousin. He knows that this man is brave and valiant and bold.

In the moment it take him to recognize this, the handsome face cracks into a smug smile. Sirius Black opens his mouth, and Albus is ready, sure he’s going to say something simple and beautiful and wise; and then Sirius says, “Albus Snivellus Potter.

I've officially seen it all

Context: So I started a new campaign with some friends, and one of the players made a character named Scruffy, who’s literally just a janitor, with Talent sets for stealth, using his mop as a weapon, and sassing opponents. The party gets sent to an allied country to help take care of a Hive threat, and during their free time before heading out, they find an arena called the Prison of Elders. Scruffy decides to enter, and faces off against a career gladiator.

Scruffy (OOC): Alright, I’m going to spend a Fate Chip and activate MM-HMM at the Ultimate level. I call four. *rolls 1d6 and gets a 4* He takes -2 to all stats he has points in.

Me (GM): *exasperated sigh* alright, you successfully MM-HMM him. This twelve-foot Eliksni beast seems to shrink by half a foot. What else are you doing?

Scruffy (OOC): I’m charging at him, and rolling Fitness to get as close as possible.

Me: You make it about 50 feet, and that’s your turn. The gladiator also charges forwards and is now right in front of you. He’s trying to shove his shotgun in your belly. Roll Initiative.

Scruffy (OOC): I notice… I got a crit to dodge.

Me: Not only do you successfully dodge, you plant your mop in the metal floor and pole-dance to avoid the shotgun blast. He is very confused. Your turn.

Scruffy (OOC): I’m smacking him with my mop. *rolls* HOLY SHIT THAT’S A TRUE CRIT!

He then shows me his dice, he indeed gets a true crit.

Me: Fucking okay, let me paint this word picture in everyone’s heads. These two come out on either side of the arena. They bow, and then Scruffy MM-HMMs at his opponent and charges forward. The gladiator also charges forward and tries to shove his shotgun in Scruffy’s belly, but Scruffy plops down his mop in the metal floor and pole-dances on it, making the shotgun blast miss. Scruffy then gets off his mop, brings it around in a hammer-swing and smacks this poor gladiator upside the head so hard that his helmet shatters and he hits the ground dead. This gladiator had a 5 armor and 35 HP, and you literally did exactly enough damage to one-tap him in less than 10 seconds. I need to fucking retire I’m so done right now.

Scruffy: I know better than to bring a knife to a gunfight. That’s why I bring my mop.

Anything For You

Me? A sucker for the wedding trope.
Hope you guys like this one though <3

Title: Anything For You
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: Peter is your date to a wedding and all your relatives love him. Just one issue: you’re not actually dating.
Word Count: 1,640
Warnings: None
Tagged: @tmrhollandkay @kindnesswins @melconnor2007 @mcheung0314

Your name: submit What is this?

           "Y/N,“ Peter coughs as you tighten his tie. "Chill.”

           "Sorry,“ you say quickly, loosening the knot just a bit.

           He gives you a good-natured smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt a bit. Staring in the mirror, Peter fixes up a few other aspects of his appearance as you watch.

           "Thanks for being my date to this thing,” you tell him. You’ve already expressed your appreciation to him multiple times, but you still felt the obligation to say it.

           Peter’s adjusting a few strands of his hair as you speak. He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and gives you a reassuring smile.

           "It’s no problem,“ he insists, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Anything for my best friend. Besides, I couldn’t let you suffer through the ceremony alone.”

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Beggin' For Thread (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! ❤

A/N: To the lovely anon that requested this brilliant idea!! I loved writing this because boxers in general are super comfy and look hell sexy, too. Especially on Bucky Barnes! :D Hope you guys like it!! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Beggin’ For Thread: Reader steals some of Bucky’s boxers during laundry day. But when he goes to her for comfort from a thunderstorm he gets a surprise.

 Warnings: Sex (M/F). Hurt/Comfort. Angst. 

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Jealousy pt.1

Originally posted by nnochu

•Bad language
•Reader x Jungkook
•Filthy, filthy smut
•Took me ages writing this
•Daddy kink
•I’m going to hell for this
•Dirty talk
•Rough, against the wall sex

Don’t take the comments seriously, its just a joke, I don’t wish to purposely insult bts

Summary: Taehyung is jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, Kook reminds you who you really belong too

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Dirty Dancing

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Hoseok (J-Hope)

Rating: 18+ (smut)

Word Count: 5,242

Summary:  It’s the summer and all you want to be doing is hanging out with your friends. Your parents have other ideas and when you end up at a resort in the middle of the mountains, the only bright thing in sight is the dance instructor, Hoseok. If only said dance instructor didn’t seem to completely hate you.

Originally posted by jimins-bunss

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agenderraskel  asked:

What do you think of JARVIS? Can he get inside your arm? Has he ever done so? Are you ever concerned about him taking over the world?

i like jarvis. hes everything nickel science fiction novels promised back when i was a kid.

 jarvis–and anyone else for that matter–cant get inside my arm because my arm has no ability to transmit or receive data, except for an internal data port under the armor plates which has to be accessed with a unique cable. so if you can get at it and you have the necessary equipment you can mess with my arm, but it’s impossible to hack while im out doing stuff. 

not that tony or i told anyone that for the first few months. i managed to knock steves glass out of his hands four times, throw things at clint six times, and smack sam upside the head twice before they realized that my arm was not being remotely controlled by ‘the evil Dr Dextrous.’ 

im not concerned about jarvis taking over the world because probably hed be a lot better at keeping things running smoothly that current management. jarvis has managed to keep tony stark mostly alive without actually having hands for like. several decades now. which probably qualifies him for sainthood, or at least a really nice retirement package. i figure after all that chaos managing a few billion non-geniuses without access to flying tanks is basically a cakewalk. 

but since jarvis has more sense than–well. basically any avenger–he knows that taking over the world would be way more stress than its worth.
jarvis is smart like that.

Kiss My Ass - Stiles Stilinski/Mitch Rapp AU [Smut]

Author: @writing-obrien

Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Reader, Mitch Rapp/Reader, Scott McCall, Malia Tate, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar and some guy called Remington.

Word Count: 22, 488 and I’m not even sorry about it.

Notes: Well, here it is! The highly anticipated ‘Kiss My Ass’ fic to honour reaching 2000 followers alongside the competition, so I really hope you guys enjoy this because I worked on it for MONTHS. I need to thank some girls, because this would not have been done without them. Thank you to my wonderful babes @dumbass-stilinski and @rememberstilinski and @sincerelystiles and the @thelittlestkitsune and @stilinski–jpeg because without them this would not be complete, I owe them big time. Especially Steff, who proofread this entire fucking thing. Shout-out to her for not flying to England and stabbing my enough times to match the word count. So warnings, hmmm.. we have cheating, bleeding, injury, kidnapping, hostages, and major character death. on the side I know you’re all here for we’ve got oral (both receiving), many different positions, over-stimulation, squirting, first-times, masturbation, public sex, and teasing.


Originally posted by teenwxlves


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Stick With Me, Kid *Negan Series*

Originally posted by grungedaddykinks

Summary: Negan finds a little girl, no more than ten, amongst a car wreckage, after finding out she’s alone in the world. He takes her as his own, raising her through the apocalypse. If there’s one thing that his greatest pride but also his biggest weakness, it’s his daughter, Y/N!
Ratings/ warnings: Teen, mentions of blood and violence. I feel like, Negan as a dad is a warning.
Writers Notes: This doesn’t really have a set plot, it will follow alongside season 6 & 7, I’m unsure if I’ll make it so Carl and reader have a thing. But… I got big feels seeing Negan and Judith.

Notes: I had this idea last year, I wrote a few parts and then forgot about it. Now here I am, uploading it because I miss writing Negan! - Rosalee

Chapter Two


Chapter One: Everybody Dies {Reader 10yrs old}


You weren’t really sure what was happening. One moment you were in your home playing with your dolls, the next your mother is picking you up and buckling you in the car seat. This had happened before, her frantic behaviour, it scared you but you were used to how anxiousness she is now. She never let you outside anymore, even living in the new community of people, she never let you out of her sight.

You peeked out of the car window and caught glimpses of the people you knew running. You also saw people that you didn’t know, dirty and grimy, attacking your friends. You frowned and your curious young eyes trained on the events before you.

“Mum, what’s happening?” Your small voice calling out to the women who was speeding out of the gates, “mum? We have to go back and help!” You plead as she continues to ignore you.

You turn your head and look out of the back window, watching as the gates faded into the background and became no more as your turned a corner. Trees and forest edge being the only scenery.

“Mum what about dad?” You asked in a rush, “we can’t leave him? What about dad? Mum.”

Your eyes welling up as she turned her head looking at you, stone cold stare but fear in her blue eyes as she looked at you. “Y/N, be quiet okay? Dad… he… was bitten okay? You know I told you what happened to people who are bitten? Right?” She glanced back at the road before you as you nodded lightly. “We can’t go back! We’re never going back, it just you and-”

“-MUM!” You yelled and pointed to the road where a man staggered out of the forest edge.

You could only watch as your mum swerved the car to avoid hitting the man. The car skidding along the road and tipping over, barrel rolling and smacking into a tree, upside down. The impact caused you to hit your head and black out for a few minutes; unaware of the potential danger around you.

You blinked your eyes open, a light thumping happening in your head as your vision is blurry. The blood rushing to your head, fast, as you’re stuck upside down.

You hear a deep, gritted growling, sounding like a frustrated animal. You blink rapidly and see, what you assume, is the man from the road trying to crawl through the windshield. Up front he looked rotten, disgusting and a grey sort of colour. Bloodshot eyes, skin flaking from his hands that outstretched trying to grab you.

Your heart thumps in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you begin to scream. Looking to the driver’s seat and your mum isn’t there, car door open but no sign of her; panic settles in as this… man gets closer.

Over your screams for your dad or mum, you don’t hear a van pull up or the steady feet of men get out. No, all you see is the crazy man get pulled away, black boots stand over him and one slams on his back. A single gunshot is fired making you flinch, whimpering into the silence as it goes straight through his head; stopping the man growls.

The same boots along with a few others walk around the car, you whimper as a pair stop beside your window. “Boss, I think there’s someone alive in the car?” A deep, gruff voice rings out.

“Well, pull them out and let me take a look at them! It’s not rocket-science, Simon.” A smooth, clear voice comes from behind the car.

You stare wide-eyed as a man’s face appears; black moustache and grey, wiry hair, deep confused brown eyes stare at you for a moment. He opens the door, the metal scraping against the floor and he leans in, you whimper and recoil away.

“I’m gonna undo the buckle, be ready for the drop,” he tells you before pressing the buckles button and that sends you falling to the roof.

It doesn’t hurt just a little sudden, you look finally able to see him the right way up and he just gestures for you to crawl out to him. With no other choice you shuffle out of the car, standing up and looking up at the tall man; he’s wearing a khaki coloured shirt, sleeves rolled up and some jeans. He places a hand on your shoulder, moving you around the car to the back where a handful of man are stood. Waiting.

“Just a little girl,” the man holding your shoulder calls out. “Look like whoever she was with is long gone.”

You nervously look at the men. All holding some type of weapon, looking mean and tough. You heard dad and mum talking about a group, mean, biker looking group that took from settlements like where you ran from.

“What’s your name little darlin’?” A voice called out, your (E/C) eyes drift nervously to the voice.

A man with slick, dark hair and a black, leather jacket called to you. He looks mean, in the sense he’s swinging a baseball bat that has barbed wire coiled around it. But he has a kind smile, encouraging almost.

“Go on, tell him your name,” the man holding your shoulder taps lightly and you look down at your feet. Scared and afraid, terrified would be accurate.

“She’s scared, give her a minute,” the same man with the bat calls back. “Skinny Joey, check the car over and Simon bring her over here.”

You feel the slight nudge to move forward, you look up as you walk towards the man, glancing at the few others who are looking over the car. You stop a little short of him, he hands his bat to Simon, you think that’s his name, and then kneel down in front of you. He smells of smoke, leather and a distinct dirt smell, it’s not bad but different.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing I ever did see, I haven’t seen a child this cute since, shit, before this whole mess.” He’s grinning, “I apologise for my foul mouth, now sweetie what’s your name?”

You take a few seconds and he nods in encouragement, “My mum told me not to talk to strangers.”

He laughs loudly, “That’s a good rule, but your mum isn’t here.” You look down, “And I’m only trying to help, I’m Negan, these are my men. Now you know who we are,” he grins as you look at the others all watching.

“I’m… Y/N,” you say hesitantly.

“Wanna tell me what happened? Why you’re out here all alone?” He looks at the wreckage.

You follow his eyes before looking back at him. “My mum packed me into the car, where we lived was under… attack, I think. By those… things,” you nodded to the man who was trying to get through the windshield, “she was driving fast and swerved not to hit him,” he nods solemnly.

“And she left you?” He asked and you shrugged, “woke up from that tumble and she was gone?” It wasn’t a question but you nodded. He seemed to be in deep thought as you looked at him, he looks up at Simon who gives a small sigh, nodding in agreement to whatever silent conversation they were having. “So, you’ll be coming back with us, we’ve got a good set up someone will-”

You cut him off, “I should stay here, what if… my mum left to get help?”

“Listen, kid,” Negan starts off, “that maybe true or she left you or she left to get help and died, the bad out way the good in this world. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone,” he tilts his head.

You shake your head, “No! You don’t know for sure, she wouldn’t just leave me,” you turn and sit beside the wreckage of the car.

Negan shrugs, taking the bat from Simon and telling his men to get into the trucks and vans. He gives you one last look before driving the way you had driven, you watch as the vans turn in the opposite corner and drive off.

FEW HOURS LATER


Your dad told you stories how it gets worse at night. How to never stay outside at night, you wrapped your arms around your body and shivered from the cold. The sun was setting, getting to that time where the somewhat safeness of the day time faded. Your mum would have been back by now, if she left to get help, she wasn’t.

You felt neglected, why would she just leave you? What would possess her to just leave you. Alone with no one.

You stand up walking across the road, peeking into the forest, maybe she was stuck somewhere. Maybe she needed help! You step into the forest and begin walking, it was hard to see because of the darkness painting the sky slowly.

After a few minutes of walking you see her. Sat up against a tree, already looking just as rotten and disgusting as the man from earlier, plus people attacking where you lived. Her shirt was soaked in blood, you flinched away from the nightmare in front of you, she didn’t even look like your mum but it was her. You step back, twig snapping and your eyes darted to her.

She lazily lifted her head, making groaning sounds in the back of her throat; trying to stand up. Her noises attracted others, you could hear more faint groans, without thinking you turn and begin to run back. You squealed when one almost grabbed a hold of you, ducking and running back to the car, why? You didn’t know.

You clear the forest edge and breath heavily, yet, you smack into something. Or someone. You scream and thrash around to get out of their hold, only stopping when looking up, Negan?

“Just wanted to give you one last offer to come back with us,” he looked beyond you to the forest where you had obviously come from. “What were you doing in there?”

“Looking for my mum,” you muttered. “I found her!”

He nodded, “Well, I guess you don’t need us then, where is she?” Before he can stand up, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, he tenses and looks at Simon who shrugs.

“No! Don’t leave me,” you cried; the realisation of being alone and having no one falling onto you. “Their all gone now.” You cried.

“Stick with me, kid.” Negan sighs, rubbing your back reassuringly. “I’ve got you,” he stands up and hands His baseball bat to Simon before walking to the truck.

(Let me know what you think. I’m still editing, hence why things are a little off and such. I’ll get to my laptop soon (published and formatted from phone) hopefully, the tagging works on my phone, otherwise I’m sorry! My first Negan series, with reader as a child, I’m nervous!-Ro)


Everything Tagging list: @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies  @fxcknbarnes @broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut@fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz  @charlotteblanden @wholockiand@momscapris @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer

@mychocolatemints @avengingthesupernatural @usannika@itzelreader @tillytheinvisibleshadow @tomhollahd @imagining-marvel-soldier @oh-my-gravity @what-the-ducky-bucky @heyitssilverwolf @katiegrace122 @newtmas-newtella @sillylittlemary  @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog@songsforsentences @leahneslen21@whateveriwantworld @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @cassiebarnes  @that-one-jewish-elf @tardispandagirl  

@theawkwardone-0002 @djpaige13paige @thewinchestersbabe @majestic-squad  @fangirlextraordinaire713 @stevesmylove82 @mrporkstache@t0kistar @marvelousmimi  @shadyweeny @thequeenofgood @calursocute @casey-anne-j @ohmoveoveralohomora @grass-is-not-green @hiphoppery@imnotinsanehunny @myonlyloveisblade@shamvictoria11 @castiels-fave @zootycoon1o1 @fangirl1029 @itsilvermorny @angel34jolly-blog   @hellomissmabel @castellandiangelo @dividedwecantfall @heyitsthatlouisdork @buckys-shield @heaven-bound-angel @thyotakukimkim @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @callalilyiskewl @karipaleta @hollycornish @mrhowardstark @mcuimxgine@ria132love @panickedpandaposts (I deleted the tags that wouldn’t work)

Max and I started a new training regimine where every time he tries to come up for air I smack him upside the head until hes completely resubmerged.

anonymous asked:

if your still doing requests, could you do a fic where Jughead is a serpent and goes to Southside high and Betty is head cheerleader at riverdale and is dating Chuck? thanks and I love your writing!

Jughead held the rag to his nose, cursing under his breath as his friends all tended to their injuries. They had been jumped, absolutely wrecked by some Riverdale goonies in Blue and Yellow Letterman Jackets. Jughead recognized them instantly when they ran onto the Southside Basketball courts, Chuck Clayton leading the way as he and his idiotic, brain dead jock teammates face off against The younger generation of he Southside Serpents, a notorious gang in the darker parts of Riverdale.

Neither side had won the fight, both groups of boys going home with some serious injuries, however they had stolen his Leather Jacket and he was fairly pissed about that.

“I’ll kill them” a burly boy named Dean stated, spitting tobacco on the ground as he cracked his knuckles, nursing a seriously bruised cheek.

“We have to retaliate, maybe hit up that Diner they’re always going too.“A dirty teenager shouted from the back.

Beside him his closest friend and fellow Serpent ,Keith, rolled his eyes, elbowing Jughead with an exasperated shrug.

Jughead shook his head, wincing as he removed the rag

“We’ll get them back, but for now…we make them wait.. they’ll be waiting for us. Make them shake a bit” he said simply, as the other boys nodded in agreement. The Serpents always listened to Jughead, he was the voice of reason
And with his father being the gang leader he had somewhat of a pull.

There was a soft knock on the door, all of the boys went quiet as it slowly opened, revealing the one thing no one was expecting.

In walked an incredibly beautiful, blonde teenaged girl, her long hair pulled tightly in a ponytail and her shiny green eyes looking nervously around the bar, she had on a floral blue skirt and a clean white sweater, considering the fact that it was definitely over eighty degrees the choice of top confused Jughead, she stepped forward a nervous smile gracing her perfect heart shaped lips. She had a familiar leather jacket clenched in her hands and she seemed taken aback by everyone staring at her

“Umm hello. I’m so sorry to interrupt but I have something to return.”

Even her voice was soft like cotton. She held out the leather jacket to the group

“I found this in my boyfriends car, I know it doesn’t belong to him so I thought I would bring it back on my own.” She looked around, waiting for someone to claim it, her fingers twitching.

Snapping out of his daze Jughead walked towards the gorgeous blonde.

“That’s mine, your boyfriends an asshole” he said simply, standing before her and gently taking the jacket, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he inhaled the fresh vanilla and peach that wafted off of her.

“You have no idea” she smiled sadly, something in her eyes made Jughead want to reach for her, grab her and wrap her up. “I’m so sorry about this, he just.. he gets that way sometimes, Chuck should never have taken your things and he definitely should never have attacked you all.” She looked around, her sad green eyes growing more desperate by the second, he wanted to make her feel better, something he wasn’t used to feeling. Jughead jones didn’t care about anyone but himself and his gang.

“It’s not your fault he’s a dick” he said monotone .

He saw a glint of something in her eyes as she giggled and he felt a tiny bit of pride for being the one to put it there. She coughed a bit and nearly every Serpent ran towards her, shoving beers in her face.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, smiling at the gesture
“That’s very sweet, but I’m okay.” She coughed again and this time Keith pushed his beer a bit too fast, spilling most of it on her sleeves, Jughead shoved his friend away from the blonde and then rest of the Serpents shouted at him, smacking him upside the head

“That’s okay!” She laughed, an honest to god happy laugh “it’s just some beer” she rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and Jughead had to bite back the hiss at what he saw. Her arms were covered in purple and blue bruises, fingerprint shaped marks littered her wrists and by the collective growl he knew the other boys had seen it too. He was going to kill Chuck Clayton.

The Serpents didn’t make the best decisions but one thing they didn’t tolerate was abuse to any woman, especially this gorgeous angel.

Her eyes went wide and she began pulling her sleeves down
“Well, once again I want to apologize for my classmates behavior. I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but when you make Chuck Clayton mad.. well there’s really nothing you can do.” She shrugged helplessly as she headed towards the door, waving slightly to the people she passed.

When she was almost at the door Jughead looked up to see each and every Serpent looking at him with threatening eyes.

“Go after her you dumbass” dean whispered loudly.

Rolling his eyes Jughead headed for the door just in time to catch her before she stepped into her black minivan.

“Hey!” He called, causing her to spin around.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned.

“Everything’s fine, you just didn’t tell me your name.” He smirked, pulling his leather jacket on and sticking a cigarette into his mouth.

Betty stared at him, that same glint he had seen a few moments ago back in her eyes. She plucked the cigarette from his mouth, popping it into her pocket and beaming

“My names Betty Cooper, I’ll see you around…?” she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“Jughead. Jughead Jones” he answered, still in awe of the angel in front of him.

“Okay. I’ll see you around… Jughead Jones.” With that, she got in her car and drove towards her personal hell. Riverdale, the town with pep.

Meanwhile Jughead was staring at her retreating car, his face stuck in a stupid grin.

Keith and Dean came up behind him, calling for the other Serpents.

“So.. what’s her name?” Dean asked as the low mumble of the Serpents came from behind him.

“It’s Betty.. Betty Cooper. Maybe you were right, maybe we should pay the diner a friendly visit sooner than I thought.” He said, his eyes hardening at the thought of Betty’s “boyfriend”

You want a war Chuck Clayton? You got one. And this time?

He was gonna save fair Juliet.

Happenstance

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: “We don’t meet people by accident. They’re meant to cross our path for a reason” but sometimes it’s a little awkward. 

Word Count:2,565 (wtf?!)

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Implied Sex, The Fluffiest Fluff that ever Fluffed

A/N: Written for Bee’s writing challenge. I’m so sorry… it took me forever to write this. I hope it’s okay. 

Originally posted by cheekychappychris

The bar was empty except for another patron and the bartender who was cleaning mugs with a rag. It was late and you should have been in bed, sleeping soundlessly, but you were too nervous to sleep. So you got dressed in the first clothes that came to hand, grabbed your keys and decided to take a stroll around the neighbourhood.

Of course, that didn’t do a thing to calm your nerves so you settled for the next best thing: a bar not too far from your apartment. You only had a ten dollar bill and some change in your pocket, but it was enough to order their cheapest drink -a vodka cranberry.

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What the hell is it with all these trolls in the Bughead dungeon?

Originally posted by thatbitchytrampoline

We are supposed to be a freaking Bughead family of positivity and support. 

I refuse to believe the ass!clowns who keep writing hateful anonymous Asks to various Bughead writers are part of this family. That’s not what families do. 

Get a life, people! Get the hell out if that’s the kind of fangirls you want to be. I implore the people who get these messages to delete them and focus on the awesome friends you’ve met here.