take it... and twist it

Twisted Hearts on mobile

Okay for anyone who wants to read Twisted Hearts from the beginning here is what you have to do, open an internet browser on your phone or whatever device your gonna use and type in this link  http://pixeltrashcan.tumblr.com/tagged/twisted-hearts/chrono 

It should take you to the very start. 

i love brooklyn nine nine’s subversion of the typical “we’re not so different…you and i” reoccurring antagonist/protagonist trope that it has with doug judy/jake peralta. like instead of the “we both take the law into our own hands and have a twisted sense of morality” comparison that happens in more Serious shows it’s kinda like “these two dudes have really similar senses of humor and get along really well…just one of them’s a criminal and one’s a cop” it’s just an incredibly light-hearted new take on a tired trope and i love it

on the new Iron Fist series

So after binge watching a ton of Marvel’s new Iron Fist series, I went onto tumblr, wondering what the fandom was up to now, what with all these new gifs and stuff to make. ‘Maybe I would find some fan art or something’ I thought innocently to myself,

BUT BOY WAS I WRONG

instead, I was greeted with SO MUCH DISCOURSE on how Iron Fist ‘needs a chinese-american actor’ or ‘has terrible dialogue and is slow’.

the best part is when I found out that some of y’all are trying to get this show boycotted like ‘????’

Now as a Chinese-speaking Asian female, living in Asia, with an Asian background and a good know-how of Chinese history, as well as a decent knowledge of comic books, (although I confess I got into the animated series first) I’m here to end the discussion before y’all get your full rage on and start fighting fans of the show like it’s Lord of the Flies up in here

So keep reading if you want to be educated or if you just want to fight me before you know what you’re even talking about

“THE SHOW INSULTS CHINESE CULTURE”

Uhhhh…no? I’ve seen a few episodes and I mean so far there isn’t really anything that screams ‘insult’ or even offensive in the slightest. Besides maybe the fact that they take the beliefs and twist them a little bit but honestly even that ain’t that bad as to what I’ve seen elsewhere.

I’ve read the boycott post and let me say that yea, they dressed him with an eye for Asian elements, but maybe that’s because it’s supposed to be resembling Asian clothing? I mean how is that offensive? Is it the part that it looks Asian? Or that you simply feel that white people that direct these shows should not be using Asian stuff for entertainment? Because I hate to break it to you but it’s still not offensive. Even the dragon tattoo is totally fine because it’s supposed to resemble Asian elements yea but also have y’all read the comics? Because he punched through a dragon and basically took it’s heart. So I mean a dragon tattoo kinda matches the theme.

I mean in the first episode they speak almost flawless Chinese for Pete’s sake! Hell, I was surprised that they even had it in them to have a non-Google translated line. Sure the accent was a little overdoing it cuz not even I have that thick a Chinese accent but I’ll excuse it since he was apparently learning and speaking 15 years. (I speak it maybe a few times a day for like the last 14 years or so only)

So no, the show doesn’t really insult Chinese culture, sure they might be ignorant, but you must understand that after generations of stereotypes and misconceptions that that can’t just go away with one show

“Danny Rand should be played by an Asian guy/be a Chinese-American”

I can’t even begin to tell you my frustration about this.

Y’all do know this show is based on the comics right?

You know, the one with the white guy.

I know Marvel is infamous for not including enough representation in their shows but seriously? This is like the Harry Potter thing all over again with Hermione being black, it’s not that we don’t want representation or anything, but it’s the fact that this hero that us comic fans have come to already love has been replaced. Or at least it feels like it. Like when a movie is made from a book and people go crazy because character XYZ suddenly has different traits or isn’t quite what was described as compared to the book.

Frankly, it sucks.

So even though yes, Marvel should have more Asians in their shows, don’t expect them to completely give the main character a makeover, even if the makeover was supposed to provide representation. And honestly? I don’t want them to change him because I really freaking love Iron Fist, just as he is.

“This show just villainizes Asians”

So you tell me that my race is being made villains because Marvel decided that most of their Asians on their shows are evil ninjas (aka the Hand) and at most there are like 3 sorta good Asians. Oh and I’m sorry, you want more Asian men that are good guys? You want a balance of Asian heroes?

Well I guess that would be kind of hard to fit into the story since, oh, I don’t know, everything happens in the USA?

If you want more Asian characters well then look no further because you do have them. Daisy Johnson from Agents of Shield? What about her extremely brave mom? Or maybe Colleen in Iron Fist? Everyone seems to be blatantly ignoring her badassery and only seeing the part where she’s a sorta love interest.

Facts are, there are Asian characters, you’re really just looking hard enough. I agree wholeheartedly when you say that more Asian men need to be in the Marvel universe that aren’t part of the bad guy team but you gotta say that they are still awesome.

Does anyone even remember the Japanese ninja yakuza guy from Daredevil? Dude got set on fire and STILL came back to kick ass. That’s a plus in my book because even though he’s considered bad, he’s been proven to be cunning, smart, and overall awesome.

“The show has terrible stunts/acting/dialogue/fight scenes”

From here on out it’s mostly just me trying to explain why the directors and writers of the show made decisions in the show to make it what it is, so let’s dive right into it.

  • STUNTS

Actually the stunts weren’t half-bad. If you’ve seen other shows or movies that are heavily reliant on stunts and action, and compare it to this show, they really aren’t that much different. Sure it might seem a little unbelievable sometimes like they’re breaking physics or something, but he already has a glowing fist. I think we’ve crossed the line of believable long ago.

  • ACTING

I have nothing to say about this except that go and take some acting or drama classes before coming and criticizing these awesome men and women who did indeed try their best

  • DIALOGUE

Now I get the dialogue might be a little weird at times and what not, but you must understand that this show was partially written with the Defenders series in mind. So almost everything that was said in the show is meant to lead to something more. Thus, you must take it as a bigger picture. Sorta like how everyone said that Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them wasn’t as good as they thought it would be, that movie was also meant to lead on to a bigger story so you might want to excuse the weird speech and cryptic lines at times.

  • FIGHT SCENES & ACTION

Okay seriously people, please read the comics. Danny Rand is supposed to be an accidental hero, one that doesn’t want to fight unless he really has zero choice in the matter. So yea, the fight scenes won’t be that interesting, but only because the character in question is more interested in ending the fight than anything.

~

So there you have it, my whole slightly angry info-dump on Iron Fist and Marvel’s representation problem in general. If you want to correct me or scold me even then by all means message me or shoot me an ask. But just keep in mind that Marvel can’t make all your problems go away in one show, and please for the love of all that is good read the comics before coming to rant okay?

RADICAL 🤘 MAGICAL ✨ LIBERAL 🆓ART 🎨 GENDER IS A CONSTRUCT 🚫👫🚫TEAR IT APART🖕WEARABLE 👕ART 🎨AND TERRIBLE ART 👎🎨 THIS MOTHERFUCKING WORLD 🌎 IS UNBEARABLE 😩 ART 🎨THIS ART 🎨 THIS IS FOR US 👨‍🎨👩‍🎨 DON’T NEED A MUSEUM 🏢🖼 THIS CLUB 🎉IS ENOUGH FOR REVOLUTION ✊️WITH THE BEST INTENTIONS 🤝BEAUTY 👩WITH A TWIST ➰👱OR SOME INTERVENTIONS 💖 YES MA’AM I’LL TAKE THAT DOLLAR 💵 DOESN’T EVEN MATTER I’M A FULBRIGHT SCHOLAR 👩‍🎓 I’D RATHER BE MODEST, BUT I NEED TO SHOW IT 😎 THERE’S A LOT OF PRETTY GIRLS 💁💁 BUT A QUEEN 👸👑BETTER KNOW SHIT 📚📝 FEMMES 👯,REBELS👨‍🎤👩‍🎤 MEDDLE WITH GENDER 🚻 REALNESS 💯BORES ME 😴 I’M A BETTER PRETENDER 🎭 BROOKLYN 🗽WITCHES REVOLUTIONARY, COME UP WITH A READ 👓THAT’S 👏BETTER👏 THAN👏 HAIRY👏

Logan is a Western, and it Changes Everything

Logan makes every other superhero film in the past fifteen years look like a cheap parlor trick. For two hours and twenty one minutes, it locks you in and makes you watch a movie that doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. It’s uncomfortable and messy and it doesn’t satisfy. Wolverine’s claws are uneven and his kills are ugly. People die with no last words, no proper sendoff and no closure. Logan provokes visceral reactions time and again, not because it’s violent, but because it’s painful, and everything else now looks plastic by comparison.

From the top, let me say I hope this doesn’t come across as some edgy rant arguing for more gore and profanity in superhero films. That’s not my point. I should also confess that I have no experience with the X-Men comics, or with comics at all for that matter. I’m not arguing that The Avengers would have been better with a few more fucks given. All I’m saying is that Logan changes things, and the rest of the genre needs to take notice and adapt.

I expect words like “raw” and “gritty” will be thrown around a lot in discussing Logan. I’m hesitant to use that vernacular because it’s the same language people use to describe The Dark Knight, and the two really aren’t that comparable. They both step outside the box of contemporary comic book movies, but where The Dark Knight is a thriller, Logan is a western, and therein lies the difference that makes Hugh Jackman’s final outing so important.

In the modern Hollywood superhero archetype, the greater message to the audience is apparent to the characters. Superman is a symbol of justice and goodness, and he understands that just as well as we do. In The Dark Knight, Batman represents the basic human struggle between morality and chaos that thematically pervades throughout the whole film. Both forces are at work in Bruce Wayne, and The Joker and Two Face bring that inner conflict into the spotlight. And Batman gets this. He understands he’s a symbol in some broader thematic picture.

In a western, Batman doesn’t get it. We get it, and therefore we have certain expectations about how Batman is supposed to act and how the plot is supposed to go. Batman doesn’t see the deeper significance of his circumstances, so his actions don’t match our expectations. He doesn’t stop to consider what he’s supposed to do in a narrative sense.

The Dark Knight is clean. Maybe that’s controversial, but it shouldn’t be. Yes, Rachel dies. Yes, Harvey Dent succumbs to The Joker’s twisted social experiment, and yes, Batman takes the fall when he shouldn’t have to. But that all makes sense. It fulfills the thematic ends we anticipated when we bought our tickets. We understand what Batman and Joker represent, and we’d be shocked if the movie ended happy. In the end, we get what we paid for. It’s clean. It satisfies.

Logan does not satisfy. It isn’t clean because no part of it understands the rules it’s supposed to follow. Professor X insists on being crass, pathetic and generally wrong about everything, despite our presumption that he’s meant to be kind, strong and wise. Characters die in the middle of fights, dazed and confused with no forewarning, no tidy arc or epiphany and no greater thematic significance. And when they’re buried, Logan offers no words to explain why. It doesn’t resolve the major plot points revealed in the film’s third act. It refuses to give us the explanations we demand. Hell, the whole crux of the plot is that Wolverine’s powers have stopped functioning properly. He doesn’t work the way he’s supposed to.

I also expect Logan will see a lot of comparisons to last year’s Deadpool. After all, the two films mark the first two consecutive steps in Fox’s ongoing experiment in R-rated superhero movies. The difference is that Deadpool puts a filter on the established tropes of the genre, while Logan takes a filter off.

At no point while watching Ryan Reynolds bloodily slice up extras and spout crude one-liners did I see Deadpool as some new norm. It doesn’t feel natural, it feels off. In a good way mind you, but off nonetheless.  Logan, on the other hand, makes everything else feel off. Suddenly, every prior film Fox, DC and Disney have ever put out in the genre looks fake. Where’s the ugliness? Where’s the pain? I’m not asking Chris Hemsworth to start decapitating people in Thor: Ragnarok, but looking back now I can’t help notice all the lines, all the actions, all the moments that felt stiff and unnatural. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has always been primed and focus-tested, there’s no revelation there. The Hollywood blood was visibly coursing right beneath the skin, and everyone accepted it. But now Logan has cut an adamantium gash and the Hollywood is spilling out, impossible to ignore anymore.

Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine holds a pedigree as old as the contemporary superhero film. Tobey Maguire’s masked debut in Spiderman made such a huge splash upon release in 2002 that lots of people forget it was preceded two years by the original X-Men. Long before Robert Downey Jr. became an idol for American children, Hugh Jackman and Wolverine laid the early groundwork that would become modern comic book blockbusters as we know them. The X-Men franchise built the foundation for the genre’s multibillion-dollar card tower, and in one breath James Mangold blew the whole thing down and showed us all what a façade it was.

Up until now, superhero flicks have been Hollywood’s Top 40 pop hits. Sure Batman might switch into a minor key and Deadpool slapped a parental advisory label on the cover, but they still played on the same stations. Logan composes in a whole different time signature. It’s new and different and feels unnatural, and it can’t be ignored.

‘Get Out’ Sprung From An Effort To Master Fear, Says Director Jordan Peele

The new film, Get Out, defies easy classification. Though it has funny moments, it’s primarily a horror film, with racial anxiety at its center. Writer-director Jordan Peele tells Fresh Air’s Terry Gross that he thinks of Get Out as a “social thriller.”

The movie tells the story of a young black man named Chris whose white girlfriend, Rose, takes him to meet her parents for the first time — without first telling them he’s black. Rose’s parents go out of their way to show Chris how open minded they are, but there’s something suspicious in the liberal facade they present. The film takes several twists and turns (which we won’t spoil here) as Chris figures out what is going on.

Peele wanted the audience, regardless of race, to see the subtle racism through Chris’ eyes. “It was very important to me to just get the entire audience in touch in some way with the fears inherent [in] being black in this country,” Peele says. “Part of being black in this country, and I presume being any minority, is constantly being told that … we’re seeing racism where there just isn’t racism.”

Previously known for his comedic work on the Comedy Central sketch series Key & Peele, Peele says that his current turn as the director of a horror/thriller film comes from a “deeper place in my soul” than his comic work. “This [movie] is just simply my truest passion,” he says. “It comes from this fact that in order to deal with my own fears, I wanted to be able to sort of master them. It’s really just want I want to be doing.”

Photo: Rich Fury

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 2

A/N: This is a filler chapter. Meaning, this is much shorter than part 1. Do not feel dishearted, there will be a longer, more detailed part 3. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio.



“Are you ever going to speak to me?”

Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.

It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.

After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.

At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.

For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.

But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.

It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.

Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.

The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.

She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.

She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration. 

“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”

There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.

And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.

And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.

She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.

“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”

It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”

Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.

Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.

The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.

When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.

He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.

He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.

He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route. 

At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.

Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.

Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore. 

He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.

Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“

“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.

He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.

“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“

“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.

“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.

His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.

“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”

Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.

Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.

To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.

“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”

She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her. 

She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took. 

Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.

Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.

“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”

Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.

“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.

She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again. 

His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.

He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.

He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.

“Love, I—“

“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“

She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t  handle it anymore.

“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”

“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”

Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob. 

He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.

“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”

anonymous asked:

protectively Sportacus is best sport (Sportacus happens to hear someone make jokes about Robbie's tic's, can be a child or adult that's new to town.

Huge thanks to @rottensocksandfluff for helping me work this one out. Thanks, love! And thank you, anon, for this surprisingly fun prompt.

Also shout out to @spobforpresident for their photo set on Sportacus looking like he’s ready to kill a man. Inspiring.

“Oh hey, we’re in Lazytown, right? So that Rotten guy’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

“Rotten? He’s the town’s villain right? I think I’ve heard of him.”

“You’ve probably heard him too. That guy talks to himself all the time. He’s such a freak.” 

Sportacus, who had been doing push ups behind a wall in the park, froze. He wasn’t usually one for eavesdropping or spying, but the conversation the three strangers were having as they walked by struck a nerve. He crouched low behind the wall and popped his head up, watching them. 

“Right? I remember seeing him in Mayhemtown once. He even walks like a freak,” One stranger, a man in a grey shirt, gave an exaggerated frown and hunched his shoulders up to his ears, almost waddling with his knees bent. The other two laughed at the inaccurate display. Sportacus’ eyes narrowed.

The second stranger, a woman with a large white hat, giggled, “I think I have seen him then! He comes into my shop sometimes. He always makes these weird faces when he’s looking around.” She scrunched up her own features and crossed her eyes. This was met with more laughter. Sportacus tried very hard not to grind his teeth.

“That’s so him!” cried the third stranger, even though it wasn’t, “I’ve heard he’s pretty stupid for a villain too. Lets little kids beat him. Lives underground like a mole.” He shook his head, “People like that ought to be put away.”

That was the last straw.

Sportacus leapt over the wall he had been hiding behind and ran at the strangers. He flipped over the three of them and landed in front of them, hands on his hips and fake smile plastered on his face, “Hello there!”

They all jumped at his sudden appearance. The man in the grey shirt pointed, “Hey, you’re that blue sport guy! Sporta-somethin’.”

“I’m Sportacus,” Sportacus said, jabbing a finger at his chest, “I’m Lazytown’s hero.”

The woman with the while hat snorted, “We were just talking about your freakish villain,” she giggled unkindly, “Looks like this town doesn’t need you too much. That guy makes his own problems.”

“About that…” Sportacus waked up closer to them, standing a foot away, “I don’t think you three know Robbie at all.”

The third stranger laughed, “What’s to know? He’s a weirdo, end of story.”

Sportacus hummed, reaching up to scratch his cheek with his left hand, “Well for one thing, my husband,” he flexed the fingers of his left hand deliberately, “Is a very smart man. He makes all his own inventions and his own clothes. He’s kind and caring and never makes fun of people for things they can’t help.”

All three strangers were staring at him at this point, no longer smiling, moving their gazes between him and the ring on his finger.

Sportacus forced out a laugh, “Actually, speaking of tics, I have one too,” he said, stepping even closer to them and dropping all mirth from his face, “Whenever I hear people talk badly about my loved ones, I can’t help but want to break their noses. Weird, isn’t it?” He lowered his voice, “In fact, the only thing that stops me is if they leave Lazytown very, very fast.”

That was all it took to make the strangers bolt. Sportacus smirked to himself and walked away, absently rubbing his thumb over his ring.

wardenmcpherson  asked:

Rich said he had acted under the assumption that Gabriel had a vessel or avatar or whatever stolen from or fashioned after Loki. And that he sealed Loki away in order to convincingly masquerade as him amongst the gods. Whatcha think of that? I had always thought of them being "same deity/different culture." Kind of like how Romans renamed the Greek pantheon.

this is actually something that i put in God’n’Gabe III! it’s my favorite portion. since it’s been out a while, i’ll show it now:

THIS is my favorite portion of the entire book. probably some of my absolute favorite comic work that i’ve ever done, too. i thought rich’s idea was brilliant, but i did take and twist it some. i made loki a prisoner in his own vessel, more or less. i like the idea that gabriel tricked the trickster when he was at his most vulnerable.

(if this looks familiar, it was original done in a video format, which i reworked to work in the book’s format!)

'Oh no.'

‘Oh no.’

Tucker hadn’t meant for this to happen. Honestly his tight ass would have paid any amount of money in the world to PREVENT this from happening.

But it had happened. He had looked over at his life long best friend sleeping against his shoulder and had been struck by the very INTIMATE urge to kiss him on his adorable little freckled nose.

This wasn’t a good thing, because said best friend’s GIRLFRIEND was sleeping against his OTHER shoulder, and every time her hair fell across her face he had to nearly bite his own fingers to stop himself from brushing her fringe aside out of her long lashed eyes.

The three of them had sat down for a movie at Sam’s place, it was one of those few calm nights where the ghosts were chilling in the Zone and NOT causing any trouble for once. Danny was absolutely delighted to spend the night with his friends doing something that DIDN’T involve ghosts.

The two lovebirds had sat beside one another on the lounge, holding hands and being, quite frankly, UNBEARABLY adorable. Tucker warned them that he’d sit on them if they didn’t stop being so mushy and things predictably escalated until they were all but a tangle of goofy limbs hanging precariously off the two seater lounge.

By the time Tucker awoke it was late morning and he was seated firmly between Sam and Danny, both having cuddled right up to him in the night, his left arm was warm under Sam’s weight, but his entire right side was borderline numb beneath Danny’s clinging arms. Boy was a leach, he had always been clingy when they shared beds as kids but back then he didn’t have a big ol’ chunk of freezing cold ectoplasm sitting pretty in his chest.

But cold be damned Tucker was squished up with BOTH his crushes practically sleeping on top of him, no force on Earth or in the Zone could possibly make him move right now. He was staying right here where he could stew in his delight and guilt for the rest of eternity.

Until Danny stirred and an arm pressed against his bladder. Heck. He needed to pee, like, really REALLY needed to pee.

Tucker stayed nestled up in the cuddle pile for as long as he could stand it before heaving a sigh so heavy even Thor couldn’t lift it. Somehow he managed to wrangle himself out without waking either of his friends and he waddled to the bathroom to relieve himself.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he stood in the cold tiled room. Why. No seriously, WHY. How in the fresh hell did he manage to fall head over heels not only for ONE of his best friends, but BOTH of them, and to top it off they were both DATING each other. He literally could not have picked a worse scenario.

He could wake up one morning with 'Bad Luck Tuck’ tattooed to his forehead and he still couldn’t possibly feel more unlucky than he did in this instant.

It took all of his willpower not to always end his and Sam’s constant meat vs vegan fights by smooching her on those enticingly smooth cheekbones, and Danny was even WORSE. Every time that asshole so much as SMILED Tucker’s heart would start thumping like it was trying to put him into cardiac arrest, it was just all those freckles and that little chip in his tooth and-

Oh God stooooop. He needed to stop, he needed to stop right the heck now before he became the first human being to pass out from overexposure to adorkableness. Honestly? Fuck his friends for being so cute. This was all their fault, they could at least have considered his feelings before growing up to be so adorably kissable.

He’d tried so hard to deny it to himself, he tried SO hard to fall back out of love with them but after waking up that morning nestled between those two precious asshats he realised that he had lost this battle, and he had lost it HARD.

But, at the very least, living with a superhero as your best friend taught you some pretty useful life skills. One of those skills being how to Lie Like a Motherfucker to Everyone You Care About. So without further ado Tucker washed his hands, took a moment to stare his lovestruck gaze away in the mirror, and went back out to throw a shoe at his best friend’s head for making his arm numb through the night.

He loved his friends, he loved them with everything he had and that was why he could never tell them how he felt.

————

'Oh no.’

Sam was honestly pissed, no scratch that, she was more than pissed. She was FURIOUS. Her rage burned with the intensity of her mother’s artificially whitened teeth, and she couldn’t even take it out on anyone, because the focus of her ire was her own stupid stupid brain.

She had always been equally close to both of her friends, in fact she had only very rarely hung out with one or the other alone, and every time she did it felt just… so uncomfortable. It took a long time to really sort out what that feeling was, but even when she did it made no sense.

It was GUILT, she felt GUILTY. Why did she feel guilty? Danny and Tucker sometimes hung out together without her, and that was fine, she was fine with it, they’d been friends since before she came along, but why couldn’t she do the same?

Every time one of them was over her house without the other it almost felt like she was cheating on someone, and that only got MORE disturbing after she and Danny started dating. Because suddenly? It very well COULD have been cheating.

But it wasn’t. And she kept telling herself it wasn’t. She had never kissed Tucker while she and Danny were dating. They had never even held hands.

But God damn, the realisation that had just struck her was enough to make her want to slap herself for ever becoming such a cliché piece of romance movie tripe.

She had just been sitting there, sipping on her smoothie when Tucker did that Thing. She hated that Thing. That Thing where he’d say something that he knew full well was the vocal equivalent of a tumblr shitpost but he ALSO knew she’d found it fucking hilarious and while she tried her damnedest not to let a smile loose he’d send her a big shit eating grin that made her stomach roll and her tongue feel dry. Yeah, THAT Thing.

She was crushing on Tucker, she was crushing on Tucker so hard. She was head over heels for her best friend, her BOYFRIEND’S best friend. Literally EVERYTHING about this situation was the reason she hated 90% of the movies she ever saw. Love triangles were the worst plague fiction had ever suffered and suddenly she realised it had spread it’s nasty little friendship killing tendrils into her life.

She was determined, however, not to fall into the awful trap that so many would think was inevitable, and she did so by keeping her mouth firmly shut about it. She had the willpower to go face to face against ghosts twice her size, and had been through more than one bout of emotional and mental manipulation by others of the ghostly kind. She was not about to lose this battle with herself and destroy not only her relationship, but also the much more valuable friendship she held with both boys.

Sam got up and gathered everyone’s Nasty Burger food scraps to throw into the bin, taking the brief moment to let her face twist in grief over what she’d have to do. With the rubbish gone and her resolve hardened, she slathered her face in smiles and ease, walking back to the table and acting with the skill and grace of someone who had been lying to protect her best-friend-turned-boyfriend for years. Her true feelings shoved somewhere deep between a pit of self-loathing and the core of her love for the boys she cared more about than anyone on this earth, including herself.

———-

'Oh no.’

Danny was in trouble. Danny was in so so so so SO much trouble.

Honestly? At first he hadn’t even realised he was doing it, Tucker had been his friend for such a long time, it had only seemed natural to invite him out everywhere when he and Sam made plans. But Danny was starting to realise the tension it was causing.

Neither of them said anything but sometimes Danny could pick up on… something. Of course he knew what it was, since he’d started officially dating Sam, Tucker had become somewhat of a third wheel.

Danny had never considered his friend to be out of place or unwanted, but he wasn’t sure Sam felt the same way. Maybe she wanted it just to be the two of them, maybe she just wanted some alone time with her boyfriend. She wouldn’t say anything, Danny figured she didn’t want to seem clingy or harsh but, why else would things suddenly start feeling so… weird?

He tried to make the effort to go on at least a couple dates with Sam without inviting Tucker, but honestly he just couldn’t help but think something was missing, and it really didn’t seem to be helping with Sam’s tension. She tried to hide it, she really did, and it wasn’t as though she was bad at it, Danny just knew her too well. Her and Tucker, he was hiding something too.

And Danny was starting to think he knew what it was. They had NOTICED.

He thought he was doing such a good job keeping his feelings from being too obvious, he was used to acting differently around certain people by now (having an alter ego did that to a guy), but obviously his friends knew him too well.

It might have been the touching, yep, yep it definitely could have been the touching. Danny was an extremely touchy person and his gentle caresses and nuzzles weren’t particularly picky about which friend received them. He definitely remembered a time when he straight up snuggled his face right into Tucker’s neck during what was probably an EXTREMELY un-platonic hug.

Other events on the 'Danny is a two timing doofus’ calendar included:

'Holding hands with both Sam AND Tucker while walking down the street.’

'Very delicately running his fingers over Tucker’s leg one time when he’d thrown them on Danny’s lap and honestly there was absolutely nothing heterosexual about that moment.’

'Every time Tucker laughed so hard he snorted Danny thought his heart would straight up melt into a puddle of goo, and then SAM would start doing that super adorable giggle that she was really self conscious of and her trying not to laugh made her pull this fACE and Tucker would lose his mind and start snorting all over again and-’

Danny had to stop himself right there before his heart completely dissolved because for the love of the Ancients his friends were both way too hecking precious for their own good and he loved them, he loved them sooo much. He loved them both.

And they probably knew it.

And boy that meant he was in deep trouble.

Would Sam break up with him? Would this ruin their friendship? Nobody was SAYING anything but Danny knew that stewing over something like this was just going to lead to an explosion of awkward raging teen angst worthy of a place on an MCR album.

If they weren’t gonna bring it up then Danny would just have to… get it out of the way.

Oh boy, he did not want to do this, nuh uh, no sir, he did not want to be standing in his bedroom shifting uncomfortably before his two beautiful, patient, wonderful friends. He would have loved to be sitting BETWEEN them however he deemed such a position to be quite, how the professionals would say, INA-FUCKING-PROPRIATE considering the subject at hand.

No, standing in front of them was slightly better, only slightly because Danny felt like an absolute nervous piece of half human trash. Maybe he could just jump out the window and throw himself into a dumpster, that would speed things along. He would probably end up there by the end of this conversation anyway.

He decided to just do it, stop beating around the blood blossom bush and just get it DONE. Unfortunately Danny hadn’t practiced what he was going to say beforehand, so when he finally resolved to just blurt it all out he literally did… just that.

“I’VE GOTTA HUGE CRUSH ON TUCKER AND I DUNNO WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT.”

By the time his brain caught up to his words his dumpster diving plan was sounding significantly more appealing. There was probably some kind of banana skin pun he could have used there but he was far too stressed to figure it out.

Tucker didn’t respond, he appeared to be trying to bury his face into his hat. A kind of wheezing noise was coming out of him, Danny couldn’t tell if it was a good sound or a bad sound. Sam let out a long breath that whistled between her lip piercings.

“Holy shit me too.”

The Tucker sound continued, raising to a nearly imperceptible level. Danny was just beginning to think it might have been a Bad sound when Tucker pulled his face back into the world, his glasses were all fogged up but he stopped making the noise.

Sam and Danny both waited for him to say actual words but Tucker.exe seemed to have stopped working. Once he’d gained his breath he was back to wheezing into his hat. Sam hesitantly put a hand on his back.

“Are you actually okay or are you like, dying?”

Muffled words were said into the hat, none of which could be repeated around children. Danny was juuuust about to start attempting to will himself into spontaneous combustion when he recognised a very distinct sound emanating from the hat.

Snorting, Tucker was snorting like a god damn pig. Danny’s shaky legs gave out below him and he sat on the floor, shoving his face into the carpet as he laughed along with his best friend. He didn’t know what was happening right now, but he was Having Emotions and the floor just seemed like the right place for that.

Also he needed to look somewhere that wasn’t Sam. She was trying not to laugh and she was pulling That Face and Danny just couldn’t handle it right now and really the floor was great why didn’t he spend more time here.

Tucker felt as though he was finally ready to leave the comforting world of Hat Land and face the unbeLIEVABLE realisation that all of his dreams had just come true in a ten second span of time, he felt like he had just been blessed by the gods, his skin was clear, his crops were flourishing and world peace had been established. Today was a good day to start ugly sobbing in front of the two most important people in his life.

“I love both you guys too!!” Tucker half laughed, half cried, and then just straight up cried, “I’ve wa-wanted to smooch you both sooo bad for like, MONTHS!”

The moment his snorting turned to sobbing he was immediately accosted by a pair of equally snotty emotional wrecks. Danny, still on the floor, had plopped his head on Tucker’s lap and just started balling his eyes out, like he was really going for gold in 'Most Tears Shed on One Lap’. Sam, on the other hand, had commandeered Tucker’s upper half for a simple bone breaking, teary hug.

The next few hours were just chock full of used tissues, an inappropriate amount of snacks and some deep, heartfelt discussions about what the fuck their relationship was gonna be.

Honestly they were just happy to be so open and at ease with one another again, the sun poured into Danny’s bedroom window as the three of them dozed in the warm pool of light. Laying across one another, their imagined boundaries finally broken, they could finally talk shit about each other for making them feel so mushy.

——

“Oh NO.”

Paulina said out loud at the scene before her. Those three dorks were sitting together at their usual lunch table, all bunched up ridiculously close together and if she wasn’t mistaken she had just seen Danny turn around and KISS TUCKER ON THE MOUTH while Sam, his GIRLFRIEND, just watched?!

“Oh yes.” Star deadpanned, not seeming too fazed by the weirdness happening before her.

“I didn’t think those three could get any more confusing, but I have no idea what’s happening over there right now.” Paulina sat back in her chair, arms crossed.

“Really?” Star raised an eyebrow. “You seriously didn’t see this coming? Those three,” she pointed with a delicately painted pink nail, “have been perfect polygamy material for like, three years.”

“Perfect what material?” Paulina’s face was all scrunched up in confusion, her little nose wrinkled up and her lips pursed in just the cutest little pout-

Star’s stomach fluttered alarmingly.

'Oh no.’

  • psychic: *reads my mind*
  • me: radical, magical, liberal art, gender is a construct, tear it apart, wearable art and terrible art, it's the motherfucking world is unbearable art, this part, this is for us, don't need a museum this club is enough, for a revolution with the best intentions, beauty with a twist, just an intervention, yes ma'am, I'll take that dollar, doesn't even matter I'm a Fullbright scholar, I'd rather be modest, but I need to show it, there's a lot of pretty girls, but a queen better know shit, femmes, rebels, meddle with gender, realness bores me i'm a better pretender, Brooklyn witches, revolutionary, come up with a read that's better than harry
  • psychic: what the fuck
10

When sharing a photoshopped image (especially an image that was manipulated without the model’s knowledge or consent), think about the message you’re sending: Their body wasn’t good enough, so it had to be “fixed.” Their body didn’t satisfy your need for beauty or sexual pleasure, so rather than find something else to look at or taking the time to question your own tastes, you instead adjusted them.

A person’s body is not an object that can be molded and changed according to your wants. No one is obligated to cater to you, just as you are not obligated to cater to others - Using photoshop to alter another person’s body is just another way of saying that they exist for no other purpose than to appeal to you. That’s a twisted mentality to take on.

All images on the left were found in tumblr’s #fitspo tag while all images on the right are the originals. Before reblogging or sharing fitspo, please consciously ask yourself: Is my motivation and inspiration being derived from how much I respect this person, or by how much I’m attracted to them? Are you more interested in the body or the person? And most importantly: Did this person consent to having their photo spread online in this manner? If you don’t know and if you aren’t willing to look up this information, then it would be best not to reblog.

I want to talk about a situation involving a Taiwanese fanartist who draws fan art of Undertale. Her art is absolutely gorgeous, but unfortunately, someone attempted to kill her by offering her a cookie with NEEDLES inside of it.

It is believed this was an attempt to KILL her, not hurt her feelings, but actual MURDER. Of course, the Undertale fan who offered said cookie didn’t seem to understand the whole fucking point of the game. 

LIFE MATTERS AND IT ISN’T OUR PLACE TO TAKE WHAT ISN’T OURS.

That aside, there are actually people DEFENDING this sick and twisted thinking.

…except she doesn’t draw pedophiliac art. She doesn’t even draw Frisk and Sans NSFW! But of course, our brave little social justice knights here have come to stop the evil of ships they don’t like!! 

*groans*

In all seriousness, this is why I absolutely hate Tumblr and the Undertale fandom. It’s bullshit like this that is made as an excuse to murder an artist. The same shit happened to a fan artist in the Steven Universe fandom, but dare I say it’s got worse on Undertale’s end. It’s disgusting to see people like this actually exist. I don’t really agree with any ships that aren’t otherwise canon (ie Xayah x Rakan, Alphys x Undyne, etc) but do I go out of my busy life to harass a person who likes something I care very little for? NO!

And before any little triggered micro-aggressed polykin “minor” pops up here who demands that I apologize for their made-up sob story of Uncle Peewee touching their weewee and that the artist “deserved it”, I want to make it clear for 10 years of my life, I was sexually abused constantly by my uncle and my stepfather. I had no power because I was seen as a little girl (although I’m a nb now) and my mother wasn’t sure who to believe. Finally when my uncle got tried for rape, the system said they had no sufficient evidence, even though he had many of my little girl panties hidden under his bed that was dismissed as evidence. Her drawing this art has no emotional response out of me. I see nothing inherently wrong with an individual drawing art of FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. If a person drawing hurts you bad you feel the need to kill, you should seek counseling or find the closest nuthouse on the block before you become a threat to decent people.


Need more info? Check this post, reddit, and twitter

The Fourth Musketeer (Part 2)

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

Part one here

Requests: I just read The Fourth Musketeer and I’m in love! Will you release the next part soon? I can’t wait ❤❤❤

Can u please do a part 2 of “the four musketeer” please?

I know requests are closed and so please don’t even rush with this request like honestly take however long you want to, but I actually need a 2nd part of ‘the fourth musketeer’ your writing is so amazing!

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: Veronica has become invested in (Y/N)’s story, and so she seeks out those who knew her.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,437

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow@thatspidernamedmeagan @isabellarose5150

A/N: I have been having so much fun writing this series, hope you guys enjoy this part!


“(Y/N)” was the only word that came out of Veronica’s mouth as she sat down at the lunch table. Jughead, Betty, and Kevin’s heads all snapped up.

“How do you know about (Y/N)?” Kevin questioned.  Veronica shrugged.

“Archie was kind of having a meltdown at Jughead’s party,” she answered.  Betty and Jughead shared a concerned look.

“God, what happened?” Betty asked.

“He was screaming her name when I came up,” Veronica explained.  "He babbled on about how much he loved her and that he should’ve told her and that he kissed her.“

“Wait, he kissed her?” Kevin interrupted, his eyes doubling in size.  He glanced over at Jughead and Betty who appeared to be just as shocked as he was.

“You didn’t know?” Veronica’s eyes widened.

“No,” Jughead muttered, shaking his head.  "He never told us.“

“We always knew they had a thing for each other,” Kevin elaborated.  "But we never knew that something actually happened between them.“

"When did she move?”

“Two years ago,” Jughead answered.  "The summer before eighth grade.“

"There was this dance,” Betty reminisced, “in the fall of our eighth grade year.”

“Archie was gonna ask (Y/N),” Jughead frowned.  "He was preparing himself ever since he first heard about the dance.“

"And he never got the chance,” Kevin sighed.

“Do you know why she moved?” Veronica inquired.  The rest of her table shrugged.

“Probably her dad,” Betty replied.  "He was a really intense lawyer, and he got relocated to some big city firm.“

”(Y/N) was gonna try and stay with the Andrews,“ said Jughead.  "They were more than willing to take her in, too. But-”

“But, of course, her parents wanted her to go with them,” Veronica finished.  Jughead grimly nodded.  "So two whole years, and Archie still isn’t over this girl?“

"Well the thing is,” Betty grimaced, “he never coped well with her leaving.  After (Y/N) left he was… strange.  He practically denied her existence.”

“Seriously?”

"Yeah,” Kevin chimed in.  "He never talked about her or anything.  It was pretty frightening, actually.  It seemed like he had completely forgotten about her.“

"And if you’re wondering why Archie can’t get over her,” Jughead answered Veronica’s unasked question, “it’s because he was always in love with her.”

“Yeah, he told me that,” she mumbled.

“I don’t think you understand though,” he said.  "They were both so in love.  They were always there for each other, caring for each other.  When Archie’s parents were fighting, (Y/N) was there; whenever (Y/N)’s dog died, Archie was there.  You couldn’t find one without the other.  Betty and I were also good friends with them, but those two?  They were inseparable.“


Maybe it was Veronica’s fascination with dramatic love stories; maybe it was her desire for an explanation as to why Archie didn’t return her feelings for him.  Either way, she found herself searching for more information about (Y/N).  That was how she ended up at the Andrews household.  Archie wasn’t home.

”(Y/N)?“ Fred Andrews repeated, holding a beer as he sat across from Veronica.  "I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“I, on the contrary, have been hearing her name quite a lot lately,” Veronica shrugged, sipping on a glass of water.  "So what happened between her and Archie?“

"Oh, I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mr. Andrews sighed.  "It’s Archie’s tale to tell.“

"He already told me about her,” Veronica quickly explained.  "But only the happy parts.  Only the parts he wants to remember.“  Mr. Andrews exhaled and took another swig of beer.  He stared at Veronica for a moment in silence.

"Why do you want to know?” he finally asked.

“I like hearing stories,” she shrugged. “This sounds like a good book.”  Fred Andrews laughed.

“If this was a book,” he responded, “my son would’ve had a happy ending with that girl.”

“Maybe he will,” Veronica offered.  "I don’t think the story’s over yet.“  Fred’s laughter shrunk into a smile.  He cleared his throat.

"If there’s one thing you should know about (Y/N),” he started, “it’s that she is the purest soul you will ever meet.  She was kind and gentle, and she was exactly what Archie needed.”  Veronica quietly nodded, intrigued.  "I knew both her father and mother quite well.  So, of course, when our children were born around the same time, we knew we wanted them to be best friends.  A couple years later, we realized we wanted them to get married.“  Fred Andrews and Veronica both laughed.  "Sometimes in the movies you see the boy and girl resisting each other because when you’re little, it’s gross to talk to someone who’s the opposite gender.  That was never the case with Archie and (Y/N).  They were both sweet on each other.”

“That’s so cute,” Veronica cooed.

“It was,” Mr. Andrews sighed.  "I remember this one day; I think Archie was eleven at the time.  He and (Y/N) were at the park all day, as they usually were.  That night, he came running home and swung the door open.  His mouth was going at a mile per minute.  When I finally got him to slow down, he told me that he was in love with (Y/N).  He had the biggest grin on his face.“

"The day he kissed her?” Veronica clarified.  Mr. Andrews chuckled.

“Yeah.  God, it made me so happy.  I knew that he sometimes overheard his mom and I fighting, and I was worried that it would somehow affect his relationships.  That kind of stuff damages a kid, you know?  But he had stars in his eyes as he talked about (Y/N), and I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy since then.”

“I heard you offered to take her in,” Veronica changed the subject, “when she was going to move.”  Fred Andrews stiffly nodded.

“Archie’s mom and I fought a lot.  But (Y/N)’s parents?  That poor kid.  She slept over here so many times because the screaming was keeping her awake.  And the saddest part was she never cried or appeared to be sad.  She would just come in here, clutching Archie’s hand, looking up at me with big sad eyes and politely asked me to stay.  Of course, I never refused.”  Veronica frowned.  "When I heard she was moving, I was concerned about how crushed Archie was, sure, but I couldn’t bear to let (Y/N) go off on her own with her parents.  At least when she was in Riverdale, I knew she had a safe place here.  Now, I don’t know if she has one.“  He took a long swig of beer before continuing. ”(Y/N) was like a daughter to me.  Archie isn’t the only one who loved her.“

"Sounds like a special girl,” Veronica commented.  Fred nodded.

“She was.”


“Have you ever considered writing a book about this?”  Veronica sat across from Jughead in Pop’s.  He lightly glared at her, lowering his laptop lid.

“Write about what?” he snapped.  She had interrupted his writing when he was in the zone.

“(Y/N),” she answered.  Jughead shot a glance at Betty.

“You know before Jason Blossom was shot, (Y/N) and Archie were the most interesting things in Riverdale.”

“Wasn’t there a two-year gap between (Y/N) leaving and Jason getting shot?” Veronica inquired.

“Isn’t it interesting that someone so in love could just pretend that the person they loved never existed?” Betty countered on Jughead’s behalf.

“Touché,” Veronica muttered.

“Anyways, to answer your question, of course I’ve considered it,” Jughead said.  "In fact, I already wrote a whole novel.“

"Seriously?” Betty and Veronica exclaimed simultaneously.  Jughead nodded nonchalantly.

“Of course.  But I do think something is missing,” he responded.  Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I kept it non-fiction,” he elaborated.  "I didn’t add anything that didn’t happen.  Although, I guess now I’ll have to put in the kiss.  Anyways, I don’t have a plot twist.“

”(Y/N) moving isn’t plot twist enough for you?“ Betty asked a question this time.

"That’s the climax,” he explained.  "Everything that happened after that was the falling action.  I have no plot twist and no resolution.“  All three sitting at the table furrowed their eyebrows.  A faint jingle alerted the diner that there was a new customer.  Betty casually glanced up and then did a double take at what she saw.  She gripped Jughead’s arm.

"Is that plot twist enough for you?” she whispered, gesturing towards the entrance.  Jughead and Veronica’s gaze both snapped towards the front, their focus attaching to the figure who just walked in.

“No way,” Jughead breathed.

“Is that…” Veronica trailed off, unable to form a sentence.  Jughead and Betty both nodded, confirming her suspicions.

“(Y/N).”

Part three here     Part four here     Part five here

RFA coming home to an MC who woke up panicking/ crying from a nightmare and didn’t know that they left while she was asleep??

Time to pour all of my inner angst into this


Yoosung:

  • It felt so surreal
  • It felt so…terrifying
  • You saw everything so vividly
  • There he was, the damn hacker from several months ago, holding Yoosung within his grasp and in the other hand, a knife
  • “Maybe I’ll take both this time…” he manically laughed at you with that same twisted grin on his face
  • And with that, you were forced to witness the knife raise to blind your lover, one eye at a time
  • You were forced to hear the deafening pleads for you to save him, and yet you never moved
  • Right before the knife touched the second eye to be blinded, your body jolted up to wake you from your nightmare
  • In the panic, your mind hasn’t yet registered that in this reality, Yoosung was fine
  • “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” fell shakily from your lips over and over
  • Realizing that Yoosung was gone, you cried out for him
  • But nobody came
  • It was only a few minutes later that you hear a door closing and frantic footsteps going towards the sobbing noises
  • Yoosung immediately laid you back down and held you tight in his arms
  • “You’re okay,” you sobbed into his neck, “You’re okay.”
  • “Everything’s alright, I’m here, MC, I’m here,” he soothed
  • Needless to say, neither of you were leaving the bed anytime soon

Jaehee:

  • The events played out just like when you were crushing on Jaehee and it felt so, so real, it was like reliving the memories
  • You have been Jaehee’s bestfriend and closest friend this whole time, and it was the night where you finally decided to confess how you felt to her
  • The confession was said word for word just like you did before
  • But your face fell when you saw her discomforted look
  • “I’m sorry, MC, it’s just…I don’t like you in that way, I thought you wanted to be my friend,” her eyes fell to her feet as she awkwardly shuffled, “I think it’s best if we stopped seeing eachother outside of RFA business.” and with that, she walked away
  • Did…she think that you were her friend just because you wanted to get with her?
  • You would have been fine with just being her friend, but she thought that that wasn’t all you wanted from her
  • And now she’s gone
  • Your eyes snapped open, but you didn’t have the energy to sit up, so you pulled the blanket over your head and cried
  • Time passed and the bedroom door opened to the sound of a concerned voice, “MC, are you on here?”
  • Your crying was a clear indication and she sat down on the bed with you
  • Mama Baehee scooped you into her arms and rocked you slowly, hushing you, and soothing your fears away

Zen:

  • Your worst fear was coming true
  • Zen had finally risen to stardom, but that wasn’t the bad thing per se
  • His ego rose as he forgot about you more and more, and eventually he sat you down for a talk
  • “You’ve changed, MC…I don’t think you can give me what I want anymore.”
  • You froze, tears bubbling up in your eyes as he continued, “I just…don’t think I love you anymore.”
  • Upon saying that as if it were nothing, you felt a very sharp jolt of pain sting your heart and it hurt so, so badly
  • Immediately you bolted awake and fell off of the couch, onto the floor, and proceeded to cry 
  • The deafening voice in your mind tried telling you otherwise
    ‘Zen wouldn’t do this, Zen wouldn’t do this, Zen wouldn’t do this’
  • Of course he did, that’s why he’s gone, right?
  • When the front door closed shut to the sound of Zen calling out, “Babe~ I’m home~”, he immediately noticed the strained whimpers and your curled up form on the floor
  • He wasted no time dropping his things to hurriedly hold you, “Did someone hurt you?”, his tone of voice was on the verge of sounding angry
  • “N-no,” you managed to whisper, “Just a bad dream…a really bad dream. I dreamt that you didn’t love me anymore…”
  • Once the tears began bubbling up again, he cradled you into his lap and pressed kisses everywhere from your neck to your forehead
  • “I’ll never stop loving you, princess,” he softly said before finally pressing a gentle kiss upon your lips
  • And before you knew it, a quiet song was lulling you back into a more peaceful slumber

Jumin:

  • “We’re sorry to inform you that the plane that Mr. Han was on has crashed. Our condolences for your loss.”
  • You said nothing, obviously still in shock
  • This…this wasn’t real, this can’t be happening
  • Jumin always paid for the safest and most luxurious flights, how could the engine have malfunctioned? There was…no way he was dead. He said he would come home. He wouldn’t lie to you. Jumin always came back.
  • Jumin always came back
  • Your hand, pale from clenching onto your phone so hard, was thrown harshly against the wall across the room along with a loud scream from you, the device now donning cracks all over the screen
  • Loud scream crying echoed through the empty house and your knees gave out under you
  • Even with Elizabeth cuddling up in your lap, the penthouse still felt far too empty without him
  • Suddenly you were jolted upward, heavily panting and tears still running down your face
  • The first thing you noticed was the lack of a body next to you on the bed, and your loud sobbing resumed 
  • A loud thud came from another room, and a disheveled looking Jumin barged into the room, “What happened?!” judging where the thud came from, he must’ve been in his office
  • You quietly uttered ‘nightmare’ and that was all he needed to hear before slipping into bed next to you
  • His arms wrapped tightly around you and the sound of his beating heart were all you needed to feel to know that he was still there with you

707:

  • Nightmares came often to you
  • They were really about anything that could traumatize you
  • Today’s nightmare looped you back when Saeyoung was pushing you away, but instead of eventually softening up, it got worse
  • He constantly ignored you, snapping at you more often and more harshly compared to what happened in reality
  • Your stubbornness would not relent, having you stand there and take whatever words he threw at you
  • It wasn’t until phrases like, “I never cared about you!”, “You’re a waste of time.”, “I’ll never love someone like you.” started spewing out of his mouth
  • “Why am I even bothering with you?”
  • You sobbed as Saeyoung gave up, packing his things early and leaving out the door without so much as a single word
  • It was like a timeskip had happened when you woke up in bed and realized that Saeyoung wasn’t there
  • He left you
  • You began to cry once again, body shaking furiously and air becoming very difficult to breathe
  • It seemed like an eternity had passed when the bedroom door was nearly dehinged by a frantic looking Saeyoung
  • His eyes landed on your panicked form and immediately enveloped himself around you, as if he was a shell of protection
  • You were barely able to form words, but he knew that another bad nightmare had plagued you
  • “Shhhh…I’m never going to leave you, I love you, you hear me? I love you so, so much.”

headcanon that a modern!R is a stage set designer 

Okay, hear me out. I always see headcanons for him being an artist, or photographer, and careers along those lines, but what if he was a set designer? And strictly for stage plays and musicals. 

  • He’ll paint the backdrops himself, and enlists “starving artist” college kids to help him make the sets and, to a certain extent, design some props, instead of bringing in sixty year old know it alls.
  • He’s really good at graphic design so he works closely with lighting directors to make incredible digital art and shade the sets to the mood of the scene. 
  • He loves to create sets for revivals because he can take what has already been done and put a modern twist on it. Stays true to what the original designer wanted, while putting his own personality in. 
  • The best sets are the simplest sets. He’s minimalistic regarding the amount of pieces in the show, but puts in an incredible amount of detail and work into every single one. 
  • He’s probably gotten fired once or twice for sneaking in a bottle of wine on set. Probably also quit because companies wouldn’t let him pay the college kids who’s help he wants to enlist. 
  • Ah maybe he meets Jehan while working on a revival of Romeo and Juliet on the west end. Jehan’s playing Benvolio and suggests R “uses red carnation’s on Juliet’s balcony because they’re flowers of love.”
  • Bahorel works as a crew member for the company. The two convince him to join their group of merry men at a local cafe. 
  • Maybe Enj is one of the actors and just so happens to have angelic vocals but that could just be slander 
Worth It

Summary: reader twisted her ankle and Bucky helps her take care of the injury. One thing leads to another and… well just check the warnings.

A/N: Okay…. So something weird happened last night. I was just doing what I normally do which is look through my drafts and see if I can come up with something for my imagines and stuff which didn’t happen, sadly. Then I just opened a new draft for some reason and just began writing while my mind drifted off to some… things. Basically what I’m trying to tell you here is that I wrote smut.
Yes, I wrote smut and posting it will be my first time posting smut on this blog. I’m feeling kind of anxious about posting this because I don’t know if it’s any good. Either it’s so bad it’s hilarious, cringy or it’s actually something people can enjoy in a non humorous way. I mean I got a little erotically charged (college talk for horny (i love you if you get that reference)) while writing it but I don’t know if other people will. If you want to read it, go ahead and if you feel uncomfortable, don’t.
Feedback is appreciated, especially now since this is my first smut that I’ve posted. You don’t have to go into detail just tell me if it was well written or not, that’s if you want to, of course. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do.
FOR THE PEOPLE I TAGGED!! I have no idea if you guys wanted to be tagged in smut posts too but hey, you don’t have to read it! I don’t expect every person to read every single imagine I post. Just skip this one if you feel like it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 5,622

Warning(s): SMUT, oral sex (both male and female receiving), cursing, unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it! Sex is cleaner with a packaged wiener. Don’t be a fool, cover your tool. Wrap your bate before you mate and all that stuff)


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