sway and away

anonymous asked:

How do you feel abt deh -a former deh fan but was scared away bc of the hate towards it but still jams out to the music occasionally

honestly?? i’m in the same situation lmao. i have mixed feelings about it for the same reasons you do. like i love listening to the cast album and i’ll reblog the occasional deh post bc i still have a tie with it (i mean, i saw it in person, it’s amazing) but i think the combination of both the fandom being a bit overwhelming for me (as most large fandoms are) and the general hate for it, especially in the fandoms i’m in right now, drove me away just like you. and i guess the longer and more that i’m detached from it, the more i see the flaws in its blander music blend and some of the narrative. so i don’t know. i have no backbone when it comes to opinions but have ultimately been swayed a tad away from deh bc i’m in fandoms like great comet and falsettos lmao  sorry this was pretty ranty bc i think about this a lot for wahtever reason

tldr i don’t hate deh but i’ll still enjoy it, but probably just in private w/o fandom interaction? i’m not in love with it like others are, but that’s ok! deh is an important show to a lot of people and i’ll respect that without actively shitting on it, y’know?

also, if you still like deh but are just scared to like it, distance yourself from people who will judge you and surround yourself with people who love it as much as you do! don’t let other people/fandoms try to control what you like. just. like what you like and ignore what you don’t.

that being said i do still feel very. very. very. v e r y. bitter about the tony’s. very. aaaaaaa

Honestly, it vexes me when I consistently see people saying that they don’t want to see redemption arcs.

And to clarify because I don’t want to beat around the bush, I do mean Kylo Ren in particular—though this could be generalized for other characters, too, I guess?

Kylo falls under the role of an antagonist. He has done horrible things: he is the Jedi Killer, he ordered the slaughter of those people at the start of the film, tortured Poe for information, fetched information from Rey’s mind and killed his own father. These are actions that firmly establish him as Not Good. He wouldn’t be an antagonist if he didn’t do bad things, would he?

But context is very important, and the finer emotional nuances in scenes such as Han’s death need to be evaluated less simplistically. In multiple source materials, it is canonically established that Kylo Ren is not pure evil. He struggles with the actions he believes he must take. Adam Driver has described Kylo Ren as someone who (while not verbatim, the intent of words is the same) “feels what he’s doing is right, and feels justified in his actions because of that.” If you want the full bit of what he said, just for clarity, here:

Well, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t think of him that way in playing him, that he is doing anything villainous. It’s more if he thinks what he is doing is right, and being justified by it. And then trying to tell the story of why – making it a person as much as possible.

“Wait!” You might say. “He thinks the fucked up shit he’s doing is right? How is that at all supposed to make me want this guy to have a redemption arc?”

This is where we get into the finer details and lore, my friend. While the matter of Ben Solo’s grooming by Snoke is an entire other issue the fandom is up in arms about, the fact that he was targeted in the womb is undeniable. There are multiple written scenes in the Aftermath novel that lead to this conclusion:

The dark, now lit with stars. One by one, like eyes opening. Comforting at first, then sinister as she worries. Who is out there, who is watching us? Hands reach for her, hands of shadow, lifting her up, reaching for her throat, her wrists, her stomach -

Inside, the child kicks. She feels her baby turning inside, right-side, up and down, struggling to find his bearings, trying so hard to find his way free of her. It’s not time, she thinks. Just a little longer.


He is less a human shaped thing and more a pulsing, living band of light. Light that sometimes dims, that sometimes is thrust with a vein of darkness. She tells herself that it’s normal - Luke said to her, Leia, we all have that. He explained that the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.

The baby turns inside her again, troubled by something she cannot feel and cannot yet understand.

As well as this moment from the novelization of TFA:

Leia bit her lower lip, refusing to concede. “No. It was Snoke.

Han drew back slightly. “Snoke?”

She nodded. “He knew our child would be strong with the Force. That he was born with equal potential for good or evil.” “You knew this from the beginning? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed. “Many reasons. I was hoping that I was wrong, that it wasn’t true. I hoped I could sway him, turn him away from the dark side, without having to involve you.” A small smile appeared.  

“You had—you have—wonderful qualities, Han, but patience and understanding were never among them. I was afraid that your reactions would only drive him farther to the dark side. I thought I could shield him from Snoke’s influence and you from what was happening.” Her voice dropped. “It’s clear now that I was wrong. Whether your involvement would have made a difference, we’ll never know.”

He had trouble believing what he was hearing. “So Snoke was watching our son.”

Always,” she told him. “From the shadows, in the beginning, even before I realized what was happening, he was manipulating everything, pulling our son toward the dark side.

And then, of course, are these additions from JJ:

It’s more than just having a ‘bad seed’ as a kid. Snoke had targeted this kid and knew that this kid was going to be incredibly powerful in The Force and wanted him as an ally.

So this mother and father had a target as a son, someone who’s watching their boy, and these parents aren’t there enough to guide him.

Kylo Ren is a villain, but he’s also a victim and this plays—no matter what people might want to think—a very integral role in his character progression. Snoke has been an influence on Ben Solo’s life for almost as long as he’s existed. There has likely never been a Ben Solo that existed without that outside influence. According to the timeline we’ve been able to establish about Kylo, he defected when he was in his 20s—meaning there is a part of him that always resisted the seduction of the dark side, but eventually gave in. 

But why did he give in? What was the extent of this manipulation on Snoke’s behalf that could cause a golden child from some of our favorite heroes to go so wrong? 

The thing is, we can’t be sure. We only know that Ben was kept from the truth about his lineage and when that knowledge came forward, he felt betrayed. Worse, it is likely that the combination of Snoke’s influence and the respective actions/inactions of his parents (no matter how well meaning) all served to push him off that edge. 

My two cents? Kylo Ren has the illusion that what he’s doing is right because what he used to believe in—his parents, the Jedi, the light—were proven to be ‘wrong’ when he found out the truth. This all-knowing force that had guided him all his life had been right instead. 

“The supreme leader is wise.”

I believe that in the end, the rhetoric of the dark side and Snoke became the only thing left to Ben Solo that made sense anymore. So he did what Snoke told him was right, because he’d been right about everything else. He follows his dark path almost religiously because it’s all that’s left to him now.  

When Han talks to Kylo Ren on  that bridge, he isn’t talking to the Jedi Killer—he is talking to his son. He is talking to his boy who has not heard his own name in god knows how long (because Ben Solo is dead) and he is getting through to him. When Han Solo asks Kylo Ren to come back home, Kylo Ren does not laugh in his face. He doesn’t proclaim his father a fool. He doesn’t praise the dark side.

He says, with tears in his eyes, “It’s too late.”

In my opinion, it’s practically an admittance that this is not what he wanted. He does not want to be on that bridge, preparing to do what he’s going to do. I think he wants to go back home, but—going back to what I said earlier about the dark being all he has left—he believes that there’s nothing left, though Han is offering him family again. Because if his father is right, then what has he done? What has he done all this time? If Han is right, he has made so many unforgivable mistakes, and who could live with that? If what he’s done is not right, then what does that make him? 

Anyone would have a hard time swallowing that. It has to be right, because if it’s wrong, the alternative is unthinkable. 

JJ has another memorable quotation that I can (and will) reference back to in order to support this:

People have asked me if I think that Kylo Ren was just playing with him the whole time, if he meant to kill him from the beginning. And the truth is, I think Kylo Ren, in this moment, is actually being convinced to walk away from this. Snoke is, as Han says, using him, and I think that somewhere Ben knows this. But I think that he can’t accept it. Deep down, he has gone too far.

Despite anything Kylo Ren has said, Ben Solo is still very much alive. The action of killing Han Solo was an act from Snoke meant to quiet that voice completely. It’s not weakness in his apprentice that Snoke fears: it’s his apprentice thinking for himself and having Ben Solo’s power used against him. He played the long game. Every investment he made into the birth of Kylo Ren was to ensure he had this quivering mass of rage and anguish fighting on his behalf. He does not want Kylo Ren to be at peace with the pull inside of him the way Kylo Ren thinks killing his father will achieve.

He wants Kylo Ren to suffer. He wants to Kylo Ren to sabotage himself until there truly is no way back.

At the end of the day, it’s important for people to realize this: redemption arcs are not about what a character deserves. It never will be about deserving. Han Solo deserves justice? Yes. Poe and Rey deserve justice? Yes. Finn deserves justice? Yes. Does Kylo Ren deserve to be punished for what he’s done? Of course. Redemption arcs aren’t about justice either, however. It isn’t about cleansing an antagonist of their sins or punishing them. 

It’s the antagonist realizing the horror of what they’ve done and deciding they need to do something to make things right. Whether that be a sacrifice or a lifetime’s worth of service in the name of a greater good, it doesn’t matter. It’s about repenting. 

This is about Kylo Ren realizing the light wasn’t a lie, that he doesn’t have to tear himself apart anymore. That he’s drawn to it for a reason. This is about reparations to a galaxy, an abuse victim realizing he is being abused. Gaining his independence for the first time in his life. Giving his father’s soul peace, and his mother one more piece of her shattered family back after everything she has lost.

That is a redemption arc. 

Quick Jughead Imagine

[Just a quick one and again not really formatted in to any particular fic, this is just whilst I take a short break from my heavy work load]

-Jughead hated the way you bit your lip, hated the way your hips would sway as you bounced away from him in the corridor, hated the way you would gently hold onto his arm when you’d all make your way into Pop’s, and most of all hated how it made him feel.

-You had always been a flirt, that was your ‘thing’. You were the flirt, the tease, it wasn’t a bad label by any means.

-It didn’t matter whether they were guy or girl, Reggie or Cheryl, Archie or Betty, you were guaranteed to flirt with them.

-It drove Jughead crazy.

-He knew it was irrational to think that the way you acted with him was in any way different to how you treated anybody else, but he could have sworn your eyes lingered on him just that little bit more.

-He was right of course, you used your label to hide your true feelings about the dark and brooding boy.


-You had all gone to Ronnie’s one night, she was holding a great big rager whilst her mom was out of town, you weren’t afraid to let yourself get a little loose.

-One JD and Coke and had turned into two, and then three and then before you knew it you were the life and soul of Veronica Lodge’s house party.

-Nobody could deny you when you waltzed over and demanded they get up and dance with a charming smile.

-Not too soon later a mass of sweaty teenagers were jumping on the balls on their feet, their solo cups spilling out the contents of their drinks onto the hardwood floor, laughing, singing and dancing.

-Except for him.

-He stood by the edge of the doorway, his cup filled with unspiked Coca-Cola, he looked amused and watched as you sang dramatically along to the catchy pop music.

-Well nah-uh, he wasn’t getting away with it.

-Your eyes zoned in on him, you drew your finger out and beckoned him over, he only laughed and shook his head, your curled your finger with more demand, nobody said no to you tonight.

-He stood still and smiled, you pushed your way through the chaotic crowd.

-’C’mon Jones, you can’t leave me hanging.’

-’I don’t dance.’

-’It’s easy, come on I’ll show you.’ You grabbed at his hips and swayed them from side to side. He laughed harder.

-’I didn’t say I couldn’t dance, I just said that I don’t.’

-’Not even for me.’ You drew your mouth up to his ear in a whisper, barely audible over the thumping bass. You swayed his hips again from side to side and began to bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

-You pulled away from him with a devilish grin and began to dance erratically, you beckoned your arms out for him to join you.

-’C’mon Jones!’

Originally posted by dylanobrienbaby

3

To Build A Home


Pairing: Jensen x Reader 

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Smut, little plot

A/N: I’ve been thinking about this since the moment the video posted on Facebook. Then @impala-dreamer started harassing me. In all fairness, I tortured her first, but semantics. Thankfully, @justjensenanddean created these lovely gifs and NOW I’m gonna be smutin’ all up in this joint. 

Keep reading

Dance Like We’re Making Love (NSFW 18+)


A/N:
I’m 100% blaming @minhosmeanhoe and @sarcasticallystilinski for this. Together, although unknowingly, the polluted my mind with dirty Dylan thoughts that forced me to write this in like an hour and a half. It’s sickeningly short, but it’s to the point. Also, I want to thank both of these lovely ladies for always being there to fill my mind with fantastic ideas. This did come about because of the new pics of Dylan that have recently surfaced. You can see them here. The song that goes along with this fic is “Dance Like We’re Making Love” by Ciara. Posting twice in one day is a rarity for me but I had to. i’ve also used this gif wayyyy too many times.

Warnings: SMUTTT; UNPROTECTED SEX; 

Word Count: 1554

Originally posted by hothothotgg

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You know what I have to give some props to Jessica. Even though she has said some horrible and is literally trash. She has been very respectful to Dom and haven’t talked shit about, she didn’t snitch to P**l about the things Dom has said, and even try to sway P**l away from doing black face and use a green mask instead. Like who knew Cynthia would be the least evil in all of this

It doesn’t pain me like it used to
It just gets on my nerves
I don’t want to fucking think about you anymore
I try to sway my mind away
But no matter what I just always come right back to you
—  Back to You // Safe Bet

anonymous asked:

What do you like most about Stiles and Lydia's characters?

oh god Here We Go

Stiles:

  • I mean. the sarcasm. i too, use sarcasm and humor as a defense, in literally every situation.
  • the fact that he canonically has anxiety and panic attacks and social anxiety like that’s so?? important to me?? and he’s so in touch with it and it’s such a big part of his character but it also doesn’t rule his life and that’s just so important to me x2
  • his fierce loyalty. for a slytherin, the dude really does have some hufflepuff characteristics. he would die before he betrayed any of his friends, and is always on guard against any threat toward them
  • i also really love the fact that he is inherently suspicious of everyone. it’s a flaw, but it’s important to me because i can #relate and i think it says a lot about him as a character. not only is he loyal to his friends, he’s protective of them, because he can’t believe he has them and doesn’t want anything or anyone to break them apart. he wanted them to all stick together for college. that’s so precious? stiles stilinski loves his friends with everything in him 2kalways
  • going off of that, i love how deeply he loves?? like whether it be his dad, or scott, or LYDIA, he just loves with everything he has and so selflessly it’s heartbreaking like what the fuck save some for yourself you ball of mush.
  • i mean, he’s Too Smart. he’s the one who Always Figures It Out. he’s clever and observant and PERSISTENT when it comes to solving mysteries and figuring shit out and he’s gonna do so well in the FBI my son
  • his moral grey area is also very fun. me too stiles, me too. 

Lydia: (i have spent a significantly longer amount of time diving into who Lydia is than Stiles, so this could be even more extra than his list.)

  • her fear of vulnerability. it is extremely hard for her to let anyone see all of her at once, and she’s reluctant to show genuine emotions. this has changed quite a bit, through the seasons, but you still get that sense sometimes that she’s uncomfortable in intense emotional situations, and that hits my core man.
  • she’s insanely brave. we see this really early on, like in 2x11 (EEP) when she wanted to help jackson and had literally no method of defending herself but she was about to march into battle anyways. and now that she’s come into her powers, that bravery is still there, but it’s more confident now, like she’s not sacrificing herself anymore, but actually fighting.
  • my girl is a literal genius. deadass going to win a field’s medal. the actual reason i haven’t dropped out of school yet. and i love love LOVE the slow progression of her owning her intelligence and letting people know about it, from pretending she didn’t know a cougar was a mountain lion, to molotov cocktail, to “i read”, to slipping in little Lydia-isms here and there, to Kira in season 5 literally baffled at the fact that she used to pretend to not be smart. I’m so proud of my baby. that’s my girl.mp3
  • lydia martin exists unapologetically, and that’s kind of always been the case, now more so. she is here, and she is HER, and if you don’t like it, that’s fine, you can watch her perfect strawberry blonde hair sway as she walks away from you not giving a fuck.  
  • her development into someone who stands up for herself, removes herself from toxic situations, and fights for what’s right. this is where the pack really comes into play in her evolution, and it’s truly one of my favorite things. before allison and scott and stiles and the rest of the pack, she had never experienced or seen real love and friendship and what it can do, and once she had them supporting her and started fighting The Good Fight, she gained so much strength for herself and realization of what she deserves. (which is the world btw)
  • lydia martin rocks kickass outfits, on point makeup, beautiful hair, and HEELS most of the time, all while being an actual genius/badass in every sense of the word. she enjoys looking nice and spending time on her appearance, but it never takes away from the fact that she’s the smartest person around and could ruin you in a single “AAAEEE!” ?? lol this is really important to me because i love looking nice every day but i’ve legit had people question my intellgence because of it, and lydia just helps me to say fuck you to those people. 
There’s a Fine, Fine Line

Jughead x Reader

The Reader and Jughead have a complicated relationship. Based on the requested song: 7 Things by Miley Cyrus

Warning: some swearing

Word count: 2,562

A/N: I know the request wanted it focused on one line and I tried I really did but the other parts were too cute once I started writing I’m sorry I hope you like it still. Also PS  It would have helped if Miley would have numbered the seven things because like I swear i was counting like 9 things at one point in my childhood. Also speaking of childhood the flashback actually happened to me let’s all relive my worst middle school memory yay.


You make me laugh, you make me cry

I don’t know which side to buy

There’s a thin line between love and hate. Jughead Jones rides that line with you, and it frustrates you to no end.

You had been ‘friends’ with him since you can remember, now only hanging out when Archie and Betty are there. You didn’t hate him at first, in fact, when you were a kid you had a crush on him for what seemed like the longest time.

At the 8th grade dance, you even asked him to dance. You remember what happened vividly, almost like a movie.

A short blue dress, black flats, and a braid down your back. Your makeup is done to perfection, and you feel on top of the world. Betty meets up with you at your place before the dance, her dress is a short milky white with a black necklace and earrings. Her blonde hair  tied up in a bun, a few strands hanging down in a perfect messy kind of way.

“Wow.” you say.

“Do you think Archie will like it?” she asks, going to your mirror and fiddling with the hem of her dress.

“If he doesn’t I will punch him.” You say with a small giggle.

“Thanks.” She smiles in return.

A car horn beeps from outside and you both jump up. It was Archie and his dad. They were going to drive you there.

You both race down the stairs and out the door, tickets in hand.

Archie sits up front, and so you both open the door and get in the back.

“There are my girls.” He says with a smile. All of you, plus Jughead, have been an inseparable crew since the beginning of time, and it all seems to work. You like Jug, Betty likes Archie, Archie and Jug are best friends, and you and Betty are best friends. It all just works.

You arrive at the dance and meet up with Jug, going to the dance floor to sway and jump the night away at your last dance of middle school. Half way through the night a slow song begins to play.

Archie smiles as you see him searching for Betty, and Jughead goes to the side of the dance floor. It didn’t look like he was going to ask someone.

Betty seems to have disappeared, probably to the bathroom, and before you know it Archie has come up beside you and has asked you to dance.

You say yes, of course. Archie was your friend, and you know nothing could ever come out of it. He is just a friend, this is a friend dance. People do that right?

His hands are on your hips and your hands around his neck. You can’t seem to look him in the eyes. You didn’t want to see him looking at you, as this should be Betty’s dance.

Soon, one slow song ends, and yet another begins. You thank Archie, as you see Betty coming back from the bathroom, and almost immediately he makes his way to her. He is just being nice, wanting to dance with both of us on our last 8th grade dance.

You search out Jughead on the side of the dance floor, finding him walking out of the room. His body seems tense, like he wants to leave.

You approach him, trying to chase after him.

“Juggie!” you say, touching his shoulder.

He stops and turns around.

“I don’t like you, (Y/N).” he says plainly.

A pain shoots through your body. The boy you had liked since the 2nd grade was standing before you, one of your very good friends, saying that they didn’t like you.

He turns around again and storms off, before you can ask what exactly he means. Did he mean that he doesn’t like like you? Or does he mean that he just doesn’t like you in general? Does he not like you as a person?

Your head spins as you go out to the hallway, sitting against the wall in your dress and braid, putting your head into your knees as you take deep breaths, already trying to deny what just happened.

That was only two years ago. After thinking about it over and over again, you came to the conclusion that he meant that he didn’t like you in general. It was a painful discovery, but it was one you learned to deal with, and one you’re still dealing with to this day.

You seem to only tolerate each other now, never speaking outside of when you hang out with all four of you. Like today.

You aren’t entirely sure what the plans are, but you just know that he will be there. You take the whole day to mentally prepare yourself before texting Betty.

‘what’s the plan?’ you send.

‘Pop’s, then a movie at Archie’s place.’ she replies.

You respond with a smiley face emoji, and as the last bell rings you pull your hoodie up over your head and walk to the diner.

They’re at the normal booth when you get there, Jughead on his laptop, a space open across from him. You scoot in across Archie, taking your spot and ordering a milkshake.

“How was your day?” Archie asks.

“The usual.” you say, shrugging your shoulders, “I went to Geometry class, my calculator died, and continued to spiral into the torturous hell of triangles.”

Your friends chuckle, but Jughead only raises his eyebrows.

“Are you sure that’s not just high school in general?” Jughead smirks, causing even more laughs from Betty and Archie. Oddly enough, you can’t help but crack a smile yourself.

Your friends they’re jerks

And when you act like them, just know it hurts

Jughead doesn’t have many friends he hangs out with besides you and Betty and Archie, but the ones he did have weren’t the kind of people you would think.

He basically lives at the Drive-In, and you can’t help but notice that some of the Southside Serpents are starting to hang out around there.

Okay, so technically you can’t exactly call them Jug’s ‘friends.’ They more are just forced to hang out around each other because of a common interest, but he’s still starting to pick up on some things that weren’t exactly desirable.

He’s late all the time, cancelling plans all of a sudden, not telling even Archie where he is or how he’s been. He’s dropped off the face of the planet, you actually haven’t seen him in a few months, and neither has Archie, and you can tell it’s taken a toll on him. Even you were starting to worry about him.

On your walk home from school you decide to take a different route. You had to cut through a few yards and walk down a trail through the woods at the back of your house, but the day was beautiful and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the leaves change.

You see a figure sitting on a bench with a big backpack on the path, and only when you get closer do you notice the familiar beanie. It’s over his eyes, like he’s sleeping.

“Jughead?”

“(Y/N)?” he jumps, nearly falling over. He lands in the leaves on the ground, his beanie falling off on the path. He straightens himself up, quickly grabbing his signature hat and putting it back on his black locks.

“Where have you been?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips.

“Around.” He says, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

Really?” you raise your eyebrows, challenging him to tell you more.

“Yeah.” he responds, not taking the bait.

“Well Archie is worried half to death, so is Betty. You should probably talk to them.” You say, deflecting the conversation away from how you might be affected. You cross your arms and shuffle your feet on the path, causing some gravel to kick up and roll towards his feet.

“I have been. It’s only been like a week since I saw you guys anyway.” he shrugs.

You look up. Did he not realize how long he’s been gone? “It’s been two months, Jughead.” you tell him.

“Oh…really?” he raises his eyebrows this time, genuinely confused as to how that amount of time has passed.

“Yes. Please explain.” You state simply, looking at him.

“Why would I tell you?” he smirks, scoffing at the implication of telling me.

“Okay, whatever.” you brush it off. You are used to this by now, “Just please tell Archie about whatever this is.” you say, giving him a look up and down.

“What does that mean?” he challenges.

“You don’t think I don’t notice? You hanging out with all the serpents at the drive-in?” now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows at him.

He looks shocked, and doesn’t say a word.
“They’re making you a different person.” you tell him, walking away.

“Wait,” he says before you get too far.

“What?” you say, spinning on your heels and turning to face him again.

“I’m not hanging out with them.” he tells you, his eyes to the ground.

“Really? That’s what it looks like. And it hurts Archie, and Betty and it hurts-” you stop yourself from saying it hurts you. You’re too busy trying to pry it out of him you don’t notice that he’s looking at you now.

“Hurts what?” he probes.

“It hurts the relationship you have with them.” you cover for yourself.

It’s silent for a minute, you now meeting his gaze.

“Come with me.” he sighs, picking up his backpack and walking in the direction opposite of where you were going initially.

You didn’t argue, though.

Maybe today will be different, maybe today he’s decided not to hate you.

And the 7th thing I hate the most that you do

You make me love you

He leads you to the Drive-in, going to the back room.

He opens the door, leading you into a room with a mattress on the floor, a mirror on the wall, and some clothes and posters tossed carelessly around the space.

You instantly realize, that’s why he’s been spending so much time here. He lives here. This is his home, and nobody noticed it. Not even Archie knew.

“Jughead, why didn’t you come to any of us?” you finally ask, looking around the room, walking to the center.

“I can take care of myself.” he says simply.

“The thing is, you don’t have to. You have Archie, and Betty, and..me.” you say, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Really? Cause last time I checked you seem to hate me.” he takes his hands out of his sweatshirt, taking a few steps toward you.

“I’ve never hated you, Juggie.” you say, not breaking eye contact.

“Don’t,” he takes a breath,  “call me that.” His voice is rough and deep, pointing at me with every word. His eyes are flaring, yet stone cold. He is angry at something or someone, you can’t tell.

“I don’t know what I ever did to make you hate me, but I know I sure as hell wasn’t the one who started this.” you say, throwing your hands up in defeat, waiting for a response.

All he does is scoff.

“Fine, have fun being alone, but don’t say I never tried.” you say, pushing past him and making your way towards the door to leave.

“Tried? You’ve barely given me the time of day.” You turn around at this, walking back over to him.
“The only reason I haven’t is because you said you didn’t like me.” You tell him.

“Why would I say something like that?” he gets defensive.

“Don’t act like you don’t remember.” you scoff now, folding your arms once more and rolling your eyes.

He just stares at you.

“You don’t like me, I get it. I’ve moved on with my life. I’ve accepted it. You’ve never liked me.” you say, wanting the conversation to be over.

“I don’t think you do get it.” he says, looking down at his feet.

“Then tell me what I’m missing.”

“The way he looks at you. The way he smiles when you walk in the room. His attention, devoted to you.” he looks at you again, trying to meet your eyes.

“What? What are you talking about?” you ask, confused as ever.

“Archie! It’s clear he likes you. He has since 8th grade. I wasn’t stupid, (Y/N), I saw you dancing with him.” he nearly screams.

“Wait.. what?”

“He only had eyes for you.” He says, hurt now behind his eyes.

“Oh my god.” You put your hand to your head, bringing it down over your eyes. You can’t help but crack a smile and let out a little laugh at how fucked up the situation is. It’s been so muddled and there’s been so much miscommunication.

“What?” he says, his face a mix of confusion and sadness and still some anger.

“Jug, I like you.” You say without thinking.

“What?” he asks.

“He asked me to dance because Betty was in the bathroom. I thought he wanted to dance with her.” you ramble, not realize what he’s asking.

“No, no. What did you just say?”

You pause a moment, just hitting you that you just admitted that you liked him, that you still like him. He obviously heard it, there was no turning back now.

“I- I like you, Jug. I always have.” you let out with a sigh, unable to look at him.

You’re afraid of what he’s going to say, bracing yourself for another rejection. Instead, you feel his hand going to the back of your neck as he pulls you close, placing a kiss on your lips. It was sweet, and simple, a thousand words said in just one touch.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers against your lips as you break apart, keeping your foreheads together.

“For what?”

“For saying I didn’t like you. When I saw you guys I got so mad, and when you came up to me afterwards it was the only thing I could think of. I was… well, I was in middle school.” he lets out a small laugh, unable to find another explanation.

“It’s okay, we both were.” you come back, letting out a small laugh as well.

He takes a small step back from you, brushing the hair out of your face with his fingers, but you can still feel the heavy weight in the air, a mix of your heavy breathing and the anticipation of what could happen next.

“I hate this.” Jughead breaks the silence, and you’re unable to read his expression.

You pause. The memory flashing in your mind. This was going to be a repeat of middle school, you could feel it.

“Hate what?” you ask this time.

“I hate that you make my stomach tie in knots, I hate what your smile does to my heart. I hate that I’ve liked you for such a long time, and I’ve been too blind to see that you liked me back.”

“There’s a fine, fine line between love and hate, Jughead,” you say, “you just have to decide which side to be on.”

“Then I don’t just like you, (Y/N),” he says. You can feel yourself stop breathing.

“I love you.”


Tag list: @always-chocolate @theselfishllama @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @idle-lanes @xbobaaa @juneb (If you wanna be on my tag list just ask!)

Serving Bitterness

Group: BTS

Pairing: JIN X READER

Excerpt: “This is our first date!” And last you thought’

Genre: fluff, waitress au

Length: 1.8k

A/N: this kind of reader has me written all over them

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

As you picked up the bill, you heaved a sigh at the measly tip the customer had left after he had racked up quite the bill and flipping over the receipt you found the man had left his number. Walking over to the counter you handed it to your friend as you both laughed at the idiocy you were forced to face on a daily basis.

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Thranduil  drinks to numb his body, for it is constantly in agony.

The aches of Mirkwood creep into his soul, as his fea is connected to the woods, his magic like a shield enveloping the darkening forest. As it ails and sickens, so does Thranduil. And the pain is unbearable.

The spiders and their poison are like a searing hot venom to his body, their webs and nest consuming his trees are like pins and needles shattering his bones. All they touch crumbles and decays. So why should Thranduil’s body not do the same (when the dwarves arrive in the woods, when he captures Thorin, the King Under the Mountain thinks his scars are acquired just from his battles with the dragons. But in reality, Thranduil is falling apart).

Somedays he cannot leave bed, others he stumbles on his throne.

On his worse days, his nose bleeds, his body aches, his head pounds, and he wakes up with advisors and guards ushering him to the healing wing.

Because his pain is both mental and physical, he finds the numbing effect of alcohol to be quite beneficial.

It helped after the death of his wife, before the aches began. Helped him sway away the image of her dead body from his head, helped expel her ghostly figure—brown skin and dark hair, bright eyes and gentle lips—from beside him.

The warm drink brightened his mood just enough so that he could get through a council meeting. It was small at first—a glass of wine a day for one meeting, and perhaps two for another.

And then the aches, they came. Disorienting and agonizing, excruciating, they came. And as the woods died, so did he.

So he began to drink excessively (not quite an alcoholic, not yet at least).

He makes the wine strong, and soon Mirkwood is notorious for its potent alcohol. All thanks to their ailing king.

Yet it fixes very little. Only hazes his mind, muddles it enough to get him through kingly duties.

Other elves regard him as a drunk. Galadriel calls it irresponsible and is glad for his absence in the White Council (and he scoffs at her, for she has never seen what he has, and never felt what he has, not hiding behind realms and rings. He supposes, that’s why Elrond says nothing of the matter).  

His people regard him as a dying elf, a proud king clinging on to his crown for the good of his Kingdom.

As expected, he becomes addicted.

A cup or bottle in his palm; a platter beside his throne, a waterskin on his horse. But he is a king none the less, and the greatest left in Middle Earth.

No one judges his behavior—no one who knows him that is. Not when he blushes from the effects of his alcohol, nor when he passes out on the floor, laughing, after a successful council meeting, with Legolas dragging him out.

Their king drinks because he is hurting. Their king drinks because he is dying.

Heathens- [smutandahalf]

A Scruffy Hoes Production

Author: smutandahalf

Rating: NSFW 18+

Words: 3599

Warning: This is darker than what I usually write. It doesn’t have any triggers but I just wanted you guys to know it’s different from my usual stuff.

A/N: Happy Halloween! Trick or Treat? That’s for you to decide..

Originally posted by genjjishimada

     There is something very wrong with Stiles Stilinski, something strange and dark. I glance over at him, sitting at his desk with his head pressed into his hands and his eyes clenched closed. I turn slightly looking around curious if anyone else has seemed to pick up on it. Something is wrong and not a single other person seems to notice, a cold trickle slides down my spine and I quirk my head at him curiously. How strange that he seems so invisible to them. Brushed to the side by his best friend who seems to jump in terror of his own shadow, invisible to the girl who has been clinging to his arms for weeks who has always seemed to be balancing precariously on the line between wild child and wild animal, and overlooked by his father who seems to be too focused on figuring out what is going on in this god forsaken town. Yes, something is very wrong with Stiles Stilinski, and yet no one seems to notice but me.

          The bell rings, and he’s out of his desk and through the door faster than I can blink. I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I gather my things, moving slowly as I deliberate on what I should do next. With a certain level of blind curiosity I decide that from this day on if no one else is going to notice him then I’ll be sure that I do. The unseen can always see the invisible.

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Darling (Mark x FemTwinReader) fluff

Originally posted by marielgum

((  gif not mine - sums up this entire story ))

(A/n): lmao people were hype for this

Request:  Hello! I just read a lot of your YouTube stuff and I actually really like the twiniplier imagine, if you’re taking requests still do you think you could do another one, maybe one where they fight about who the older twin is?

Warnings: fucking fluff

_____

“No way.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“It’s not kidding, it’s lying.” (Y/n) said “You’re a filthy liar.”

Fiercely, she snatched away the tape measure from Mark’s palms. With a relentless course of action, she pulled out the tape.

“Against the wall.”

(Y/n)’s twin offered an amused breath, standing up right against the pale surface of the wall. The girl briefly checked his feet before lining up the ruler with his form- her face icely dry.

“Five foot ten inches…” she mumbled.

“Ya’ see, sis’? Would I lie to you?” the male lulled, dropping his posture very lightly.

(Y/n) viewed him funnily, pushing back in the measuring tape “I think you would.” she said.

“Oh hush.”

From the couch, Ethan giggled slightly.

“So we know who’s taller- but who’s older?” he asked with a quaint title of his head.

In a parallel unison, both (Y/n) and Mark said:

“I am.”

Taken by humour, Ethan laughed fully. He offered the pair quick darts of his eyes.

All at once, the siblings looked at each other, rival resentment coursing through thin air. Mark squinted his eyes at (Y/n). In return, she eyed him suspiciously.

“I was born June twenty eighth, at nine thirty two in the morning.”

They both said.

“No, you were born at nine forty.”

“No, you were-”

Ethan coughed momentarily before he said:

“It seems we have a communication break here.”

“Yeah, because he isn’t hearing me when I try and tell him the truth- that he was born at nine forty.” (Y/n) defended, crossing both arms and swaying gently away from Mark.

“Sorry, I think I would remember being alive before Satan graced this planet with her presence.” Mark snickered, and so did Ethan.

“tyLER.”

(Y/n)’s cry of anguish didn’t go unheard, for Tyler responded soundly with a lawful grunt.

“Would you please explain to Mark that I’m older than him?” she whined.

For a couple moments, only soft taps of keyboard keys charmed the air. Then, from the room over, Tyler’s voice became audible.

“I could, but he’s older.” Tyler commented.

Quickly ushered into the air were Mark’s cheers of triumph. He slung one strong arm around his sister’s shoulders, reeling her into him.

“Aw, little sis’ don’t be sad~” the brunette purred, ruffling her hair annoyingly.

“Yeah, (Y/n), don’t cry.” laughed Ethan.

(Y/n) squirmed in Mark’s arms, trying her best to break away. She shrieked fakely and threw around empty threats.

“Ah, no! No little sis’!” Mark laughed, hugging his twin’s wiggling body harder. Her dismay increased.

“No, no, hush darling! Your big brother’s got you!”

Mark and Ethan both crackled wildly, the two siblings spinning in endless loops.

“Mark, let go!” (Y/n) pushed, almost laughing herself.

“Let your big brother love you~!”

_____

(A/n): Wowza I sure did get distracted

Entertain Me

Music blared through the hallways of Riverdale High as I stood outside with the two guys. I pressed my cigarette to my crimson-tinted lips and took one last drag before dropping it on the steps and crushing it with my shoe. 

“Ready?” Kevin asked, his arm slung casually round Joaquin’s waist. 

“Let’s just get this over with” I muttered and pushed the door open. Kitsch banners hung from the ceiling and paper hearts scattered the hallway. I rolled my eyes at the sight and followed the music to the cafeteria. 

A sea of students greeted my eyes. Some were dancing, some were chatting at tables, some were watching the three girls on stage. Joaquin and Kevin walked in right behind me and Kevin let out a low whistle. 

“Impressive, right?” A pretty blonde girl approached us and hugged Kevin. I turned to look at Joaquin with pleading eyes. 

“You promised.” he muttered in my ear. 

It’s true, I had promised. After four games of pool the night before Joaquin and I had decided whoever broke the tie would have to do the other’s bidding. Had I won, I would have made him do something stupid like make him drive his motorbike blindfolded. But luck was not on my side and my payment was to accompany him to a Riverdale dance. 

“Fuck’s sake, man” I had shouted at him. “Anything but that”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun! You might find yourself a nice rich kid.” Joaquin had said with a dashing smile. 

At least I’d been able to come on my own terms. Maybe Joaquin was happy to wear his ridiculous suit and try and blend in with all the posh idiots, but I wasn’t going to stoop that low. 

“Y/N, this is Betty” Kevin said with a broad smile. “Y/N is a friend of Joaquin’s.” 

I shook Betty’s hand briefly. 

“It’s so nice you decided to come along.” She sounded genuine so I decided to give her a chance. 

“Thanks. I like your dress” I said, indicating her long peachy outfit. 

“Thank you!” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like your… jacket.” 

“You’ll like the back even more” I said with a wink and turned to show her the Serpent emblem on the back. 

“I told her not to wear that” Joaquin mumbled and Betty looked a bit uncomfortable. I smirked to myself. Rich kids were so easy to unsettle. 

“Shall we find a table?” Kevin tried to break the silence.

“Jug, Ronnie and I have a table back there.” Betty scurried off towards a gorgeous dark-haired girl and a kid I recognised. I followed. 

Introductions were made and I nodded at Jughead “Aren’t you FP’s son?” 

Brow furrowed he nodded in reply. 

“He talks a lot about you, doesn’t he?” I said jabbing Joaquin in the chest with my elbow. 

But Joaquin was too busy making out with Kevin to notice me. Rolling my eyes I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. I took a swig and offered it to Jughead who refused. 

Veronica accepted and took a sip. Jughead and Betty slipped off toward the dancefloor and the two guys were still in a battle of the tongues. 

“Not that I’m against a bit of PDA…” Veronica said to me in a staged whisper. 

“Yeah, I could do without it” I said taking another swig of my vodka. 

“You didn’t bring a date?” Veronica asked. 

“Nope. And believe me, I’m not here willingly.”

A grin spread across her face. “Well, you never know.. You may yet find someone to entertain you.” She looked round. “In fact, this is my plan for the night. Tell me your type.”

I bit back a comment about how rich kids were not my type because this girl seemed like she might be fun. I shrugged. “I don’t really have one.”

“Well are you more of a Kim or Kanye kind of girl?” 

“Oh she’s a bit of both, aren’t you?” Kevin said, finally untangling himself from my friend. 

“How can you tell?” I asked surprised. 

“Please! It’s written all over you. I can smell the bisexuality.” 

Everyone laughed and I found myself relaxing a bit around these kids. Passing my flask to Joaquin I pointed to a tall guy with dark hair. “Tell me about him.”

“Oooh, Reggie!” Veronica said excitedly. “He’s your run-of-the-mill jock really. Head of the football team, hot but -”

“Dull?” I finished. “Yeah maybe not. How about him?”

The game went on for a while, me pointing out more and more unlikely people and Kevin and Veronica giving me all the scoop about them. Eventually Kevin and Joaquin headed for the dancefloor and I was left with Veronica. 

“I’ve nearly run out of vodka” I muttered tilting the bottle this way and that to estimate the remaining liquid. 

Veronica, who was quite tipsy by now, ignored me and called over people’s heads: “There’s my Archiekins!”

A red-haired kid joined us, snaking an arm round Veronica’s shoulders. 

“Y/N this is Archiekins. Archiekins this is my new friend, Y/N.” 

Archie grinned at me and Veronica continued, leaning across our table towards me. “Archie and I are sort of seeing each other but we haven’t told anyone.” Archie looked at her alarmed. “But you won’t tell, will you?” 

“I won’t.” I reassured her. 

“Good, because we haven’t told Betty or Kev-” but I drowned Veronica’s speech out as my gaze fell upon the one. The girl I now knew I’d been waiting for all night.

“Ronnie, who’s that?” I interrupted and inclined my head in the direction of the gorgeous girl. 

Veronica and Archie turned to see who I was looking at. “Oh no, Y/N, you don’t want to mess with her. That’s Cheryl Blossom.” 

Cheryl Blossom. 

I rose out of my seat my eyes fixed upon the fiery hair, sure if I lost her in the crowd that she’d slip away and I’d never find her again. “Y/N, I really don’t think it’s a good idea…” Veronica called after me but I was already walking into the crowd of students. 

I walked right up to her. Of course, she didn’t fail to notice me. Her eyes bore into mine, lip curled in a derisive smirk. 

“What do you want, freak?” she asked me imperiously. I could instantly tell her type - entitled, bossy, mean girl. 

“Do you have a light?” I asked calmly. She looked rather taken aback. 

“No.” Maybe she was thrown by the way I was looking at her. I knew her type and I knew how to make them squirm. 

“Well, is that it? Or are you going to just stand here and gawk?” She asked regaining some of her confidence. 

“Nope, I’m going.” I turned away, ensuring that my hair swished just enough and that my hips swayed as I walked away. 

Once outside I leaned against the wall and lit my cigarette, exhaling in a cloud of grey smoke. The night was mild, starry and full of promise. 

I wasn’t halfway through my cigarette when I heard the sound of heels walking my way. A waft of honey swept over me. Was that her shampoo? 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. 

I tapped my cigarette against my mouth in answer and watched her gaze travel from my face to stop at my lips. 

“I can see that, you chimney. I mean, what are you doing here?”

“I was invited” I shrugged. 

“This dance is for Riverdale students, not Southside squatters.”

“I see.” I threw my cigarette down and took a step towards her. “I’ll be on my way then.” 

“Good.” 

I was standing very near her by now. “Unless you’d prefer me to stay, Cheryl Blossom.” 

“How do you know my name, you stalker?” she asked in an accusitory tone but her eyes didn’t leave mine. 

“I’m Y/N.” I said quietly. 

“Well, Y/N, why don’t you head off home, then?” 

“Now that I know how much my presence annoys you, I think I might stay” I said and turned on my heel back into the hallway. 

“Oh. No. You. Don’t!” Cheryl shouted behind me. “I organised this dance from start to finish. And you were never meant to be part of it.” 

“Too bad, gorgeous. I’m here now and, against my better judgement, I’m having fun.” 

She had caught up with me and stood there fuming. Inadvertently, my eyes strayed to her lips. But I had to contain myself, I couldn’t kiss her, not until it was the right time.

In a cloud of red hair and honey-sweet smell Cheryl pounced and her lips were hungry against mine. A knot I didn’t know existed tightened round my stomach and I felt near suffocation. It was the most amazing feeling. 

She pulled away, backing up to lean on one of the lockers. “Everything happens on my terms, Southside. Now leave my dance.” 

“Actually, I think it happens on my terms” I muttered and pulled her back against my lips. Her body melted against mine and the music and laughter sounded very far away now. Everything was just Cheryl’s lips on mine and my hands in her hair. 

“After-party at yours, Cher?” a jock called as he passed. 

Cheryl unglued her lips from mine just long enough to shout back at him “Find somewhere else, loser.” Then quietly, “I’m busy tonight”

It looks like it was worth going to the stupid dance after all.

A/N: This is my first fic on here. This just randomly came to me a few days ago. Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you have any ideas for stuff for me to write. xoxo

jeep pt. 1 • monty de la cruz

warnings: hints at sex i guess?? idk

a/n: this is the first i’m writing an imagine, but this idea has been stuck in my head for days so here goes nothing lol. monty is a snack btw.

It had been nearly 4 days since you last saw your boyfriend. He left for a baseball tournament, and you couldn’t be more excited that he was finally coming home, mostly because you needed his touch desperately. You sent him teasing texts and pictures, awaiting his arrival so that you could give him a congratulations, but he blew you off to celebrate the win with his friends.

You look around the cafeteria and spot Monty from across the room. He shoots you one of his infamous smirks, to which you roll your eyes and walk in the opposite direction.

“Hey girls!!” you say to Hannah, Jessica, and Sheri while you sit down, laughing. They greet you back and you guys eat while sharing stories and obnoxious laughs over your weekend activities.

“Don’t look now, but there’s an impatient Monty heading towards you at 3 o'clock.” Jess says while giggling.

“What do you want Montgomery?” you ask him.
“You.” he replies simply and smiles. You roll your eyes at him and he wraps his arm around you while sitting down. He places his hand on your thigh and starts to inch higher. He grazes you slightly, right where you’ve craving him the most, and you let out a slight gasp. There’s no way in hell you we’re gonna let him off that easily. You stand up and walk away from the table, making sure to lightly palm Monty’s crotch while you leave. “I’ll catch you girls later okay? Bye.” you say and smirk as you head towards your next class. You can feel Monty’s eyes on you while you walk away, swaying your hips enough to make him want to chase you. “I don’t know what you did De La Cruz,” Hannah begins, “but fix it.” she answers while shaking her head and laughing.

The last bell of the day rings and you rush home to avoid seeing your boyfriend. You had intended to make him suffer until he gave what you wanted from him, so when he didn’t see you standing in your usual meet up spot he decided to call you.

“What’s your problem?” Monty says as soon as you answer the phone.
“Well hello to you too, sunshine.” you shot back.
“I’m serious Y/N, what’s the deal?” he asks you.
“You’re my problem, you asshole.” you say into the phone as you flop backwards onto your bed.
“Look, you’ve been nothing but cold to me ever since I got back from the tournament. I don’t even know what I did to upset you. You only act like this when you’re hungry, or when you want me to dic-” he stops mid sentence. You smirk while he finally realizes what you’ve been so frustrated about.

“I’ll be there in 5. Be ready.” Monty growled into the phone. You begin to shiver with anticipation, knowing that Monty is now angry, while hot and bothered. 

The all too familiar horn of Monty’s jeep honks from outside your window and you run down the stairs. “I’m going out with Monty, Mom, love you, and see ya in a bit!” you yelled out. 

“Alright, have fun, but not too much. I don’t need a mini Monty running around here.” your mother winked and laughed. You couldn’t help but to crack up at her statement. “You’re crazy, mom, BYE!!!” you said skipping out the door. Little does she know that “fun” with Monty was exactly what was in store for you.

a/n: hey guys, i decided to make this into 2 parts bc i felt like it was gonna get too long. as you can see, the second part is where the JUICY BITS will start happening so stay tuned and stay gold my fellow sinners ;))

in ten years i’ll tell you i love you (but not now) [Yoongi]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Angst ; Fluff 
Word Count: 4237
Description: if there are any words that could travel through space and time to reach the person they have to reach, ‘i love you’ would be those words.
Author’s Note: so basically…the fucking soulmate reincarnation au yoongi brithday fic NOBODY ASKED FOR!!!! praise i wrote this in one day in the span of like 4 hrs i ignored my work i am going to REGRET
(i)

It is forbidden. It is forbidden, and dangerous, and high-risk, and the utmost cliché. That you, the lowly servant girl, from a long line of ancestors of the same position, would fall in love with the son of the household you are serving.

The House of Min is a house your family has served for centuries, and most likely will serve for centuries more, and somehow you are the first (or perhaps you were not the first, but you had most certainly never heard of anyone else similar to you) to fall completely and utterly in love with the person you were supposed to be serving.

And yet — it is the utmost cliché is it not? That he, the heir to a fortune, one amongst the richest in the country, would fall in love with the servant girl who lives in the basement with the rest of the help, far, far away from the glittering chandeliers and marble staircases that lead to his room. Far enough so that, should he be like his parents, he would have forgotten the help existed even in the moments they were not serving them. Far enough so that, if it were not for you, he could have forgotten anyone but his family lived in the same house as he.

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Bedtime

I love Manorian too much to not write it. I tried a new writing technique for this one, so it may not be up to par. Either way though I hope you all enjoy it! 

Title: Bedtime

Characters: Manon and Dorian

Summary: Manon and Dorian prepare to go to bed, however like most things, there is always a sass-filled standoff before such a thing can occur. 


“I won’t lie; your clothes look fantastic on me.”

Dorian watched from behind with an amused expression as Manon examined herself in the mirror. One of his navy blue button-up shirts hung loosely around her svelte frame, dipping below her waist just slightly. Of course, with Manon being Manon, the first three buttons at the top were undone to be more than a little revealing. A pair of his matching blue pajama pants barely clung around her waist, the pant legs pooling at her feet. Even with the pant strings drawn completely they were still only a few hip sways away from sliding right on off. Not that Dorian minded, of course.

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It would be easier to get the nuclear codes than to get Chelsea’s wedding date. 😊