there was a lot more in that 'thank god. and you'

2

Producer Jeff Bhasker faced a daunting task several months ago. After having worked with Kanye West and winning Grammy Awards for producing Mark Ronson’s “Uptown Funk,” and Fun.’s 2012 album “Some Nights,” he had to decide whether to take on a new project: the debut solo album of One Direction member Harry Styles.

“I’d just had a baby, and I was kind of like, ‘Eh, I don’t know if I’ll jump into this,‘” Bhasker tells Variety. He agreed to have Styles come over to “just talk,” and proceeded to put him through the Bhasker home sniff test. “My dog tends to bite people, and he was kind of scoping Harry out,” Bhasker explains. Styles “did this move — like a little shoot the gun with his finger, and my dog walked over and started licking his finger. That’s when I was, like, ‘This guy has something special.'”

Once music came into the mix, Bhasker was sold. “He started playing references of what he wanted to do, which sounded like a cool rock band. I got it, and could see where if we pulled this off, it would be one of the coolest things ever. But he needed a buddy who plays guitar like he’s Keith Richards.” The insinuation being: Styles is the Mick Jagger in this scenario.

Adds Bhasker: “I’m so proud of the album itself, and also of Harry for being so brave, and committing 100%, and writing the kind of vulnerable lyrics that he wrote, and not pandering to what people thought he would do. People have no idea that this is what Harry Styles is like. Just like I didn’t know. He’s obviously very famous and beloved, but people don’t know the depths of what an amazing personality and artist he is.”

Variety spoke with Bhasker about the recording of “Harry Styles” ahead of the album’s May 12 release: 

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The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles… How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered… Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision…. 

“Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.” 

Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”… They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now. 

The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin–” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.” 

In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai–”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel.

In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

SKAM S04E05 Clip 5 - Imagine all the people living life in peace

ESKILD: “You’re the one called Elias, right?”
EVA: Elias is your brother?
ESKILD: Then I go up to him and then I stroke him, just a little bit on his side at first, then I feel like a shiver going up his spine. *Gag noises* Then he left pretty quickly, but he seemed open for more fun.
CHRIS: Are you crazy?
EVA: Stop! I can send you the money.
CHRIS: Send me the money? What?
EVA: I can send it! How much is it? Hello!
CHRIS: 112.
EVA: It doesn’t!
CHRIS: 112 for a beer.
EVA: I can give you..
CHRIS: 112,50. 112,40..
[Are you coming?]
EVA: 112,40?
CHRIS: Point 40.
[John Lennon - Imagine]
EVEN: Thank you!
CHRIS: Oh my God
SANA: Yeah..
CHRIS: Yeah..
SANA: Oh, I love you so much.

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episode two :: Yuri realizes, suddenly and terribly, he might be a little bit in love.  


Victor doesn’t even try to go to sleep.  He just lays in bed with his laptop, watching the thirty-seven takes of Yuuri trying to get “hi, I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and I’m the Bachelor” out of his mouth.

Don’t they know who I am?” Yuuri slurs on screen.  

Yuuri, you have to put the champagne bottle down, you have to pretend to be sober,” Phichit says off camera, all authority gone from his voice.  He’s trying not to laugh.

Phichit,” Yuuri says, and he takes a big swig from the bottle, bubbles pouring down both sides of his lips. “You can’t tell me what to do.  I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and I’m the motherfucking Bachelor.

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Hey there everyone! WHOO! Finally got a reprieve, as I’m done with my drawings for my final project, now I have to continue typing the written parts.

Done largely in part because I love the lore, practice drawing human characters, and to pass the time whenever I need a breather from from college.

While researching for the lore of Dark Souls for my In-progress AU Comic, I noticed how LARGE the mythology of Dark Souls and the deities that reside, along with the fan speculation of which god corresponds with whom and etc. In spite of all this, from what I can tell, outside of Gwyn’s family, there has never been a, for lack of a better term, “compendium piece” of the gods and goddesses of dark souls, so I made my own :D

Because some gods are not represented in imagery, I decided to design how they might look if they ever showed up amongst mortals. I owe a lot to Tumblr, Reddit and the DS fandom as a whole, the amount of theory and lore discussions are always gold, and of course, the lore-lords like @vaatividya and @silver-mont, their vids are always interesting to watch :)

From the Top Row: The Bearers of the Lord Souls

Gravelord Nito: No need for an explanation here xD

Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight: Drawing him was easy, but here I wanted portray a very stern, no-nonsense god king who really, REALLY is someone you don’t want to piss off, and someone who is almost NEVER happy and/or satisfied.

The Witch of Izalith: I’m honestly surprised there’s not much fanart of how her face might look like, so I pitched in. She basically resembles her daughters, but with a more matriarchal vibe, with a stronger jawline and sharper eyes to reflect that. She’s also very tall, towering over Gwyn and just slightly edging out NK in height.

The Furtive Pygmies, featuring Manus and a Pygmy Lord: With the Ringed City revealing that there were SEVERAL pygmies, I had quite some fun with the speculation and possibilities of how the Pygmies as a whole looked like.

Personally? I simply interpret them as humans but more, with more power over the dark soul, but otherwise having different roles in society like regular folk, the Ringed Knights are Warriors, the Lords are the rulers, etc.

I put Manus amongst them, why? Because no way should ONE man be able to have THAT much abyss power just because he’s a human. Since the dark soul is divided amongst humans, I interpret him having a huge chunk of the Dark Soul (as per these two threads), and thus was simply a mighty sorceror who happened to be really, REALLY old, even by Pygmy standards. Plus I always wondered… How does one torture a dead man? The Mad King was described as undying, so according to my own logic, he wasn’t totally “dead” when he was buried. His grave could signify him wanting a modicum of peace, after all, his entire race was basically put in a glorified prison by Gwyn… Sensing the growing madness within him (probably due to sheer isolation), he probably decided to “die” on his own terms in Oolacile… then future idiots proceeded to listen to TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL SERPENT and dug up his grave.

The random Pygmy Lord is basically representing one of the first Pygmy Lords.


Second Row: The Children of the Gods

The Nameless King, Firstborn of Gwyn, God of War: In a short period of time, has become my favorite character amongst the gods… There’s so much of a story to tell from him, his relationship with his family, the reasons as to WHY he betrayed the dragons, and thanks to lore threads a-plenty, I interpret him as one of the most honorable and dedicated of the gods. He watches over his warriors of sunlight even if they ARE humans (whom Gwyn HATES) AND he protects Dragons. Despite meI head-canoning him bigger than Gwyn and is in general a wall of muscle and armor, he’s STILL shorter than his sisters.

Gwynevere, Goddess of Fertility: Gwynevere here I interpret as one of the nicer gods, so I made her expression to reflect such. Because Gwyndolin’s illusion of her may be simply him projecting what he remembers most of her and thus potentially exaggerating certain aspects, I toned down a lot the “Aphrodite-esque” glamor, in favor of a more personable look, though still decked out.

Filianore: The daughter we know even less of than Gwynevere, but thanks to a certain reddit thread that discussed how dedicated NK was to her via the floral carvings that is present in Archdragon peak… She must have been someone who NK was VERY close with, so I interpret her as the “Always trying to bring life to the family” kind of sister, though closest to her eldest brother.

Gwyndolin: The Dark Sun himself. Not much else to say here, I just wanted to draw him happy for once… Because WHY FROM? He really, really needs it.


The Daughters of Chaos

Quelana, Mother of Pyromancy: Due to her own title, I interpret her as the Studious Daughter, incredibly dedicated to her craft and always finding out ways to further her pyromancy… Until the Chaos Flame incident happened of course… Then she became wracked with survivor’s guilt…

I also interpret her as being the responsible one looking out to make sure her sisters don’t do anything too brash… Though in hindsight, that would make her suvivor’s guilt worse.

Quelaag: The most well known Chaos Daughter, and whom I interpret as The Aggressive Daughter, hence why she’s the only one of the sisters with a melee weapon. As the most in-your-face daughter I head-canon that she is the one who lowers down her hood the most, especially when she feels like challenging someone. Also VERY protective of her family.

Quelaan, The Fair Lady: Last but not least, I interpret Quelaan as always having been the shyest and nicest of the daughters. Her hood is more drooped down compared to Quelana, to highlight her shyness.

Fun fact, while trying to find her real name, turns out the name Quelaan was the name the community gave to her, and just became established fanon, so I just opted to name her just that.


Third Row: Other Members of the Larger Pantheon

All-Father Lloyd: Gwyn’s uncle, founder of the Way of White. Now there IS speculation that he’s not real, but here I interpret as the real deal, and thus looks like a wimpier, older version of Gwyn, yet still has an aura of authority. I used a bit of Paladin Leeroy for his crown, because I interpret that, when he REALLY needs to get his hands dirty, he too wields a mace, setting an example to all paladin-esque worshipers after him.

His clothes are tattered despite being the godly equivalent of a pontiff, to highlight two things:

One, despite him being a “lord”, his tattered look is to signify he is not “above” the rabble/his followers.

Two, I head-canon him becoming slowly more insane and full of hate toward the undead,as more and more of his family and friends either dies off or leaving home… He eventually disappears for unknown reasons and becomes forgotten.

Fina, Goddess of Love: The most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife, or at least his first, I wanted to design her with the Embraced Set in mind, just modified to look more queenly rather than armor. Going by the general fanon, I interpret her as the mother of both NK and Gwynevere, but due to unknown circumstances, just up-and-left. Why? I dunno I haven’t thought that deep :(

Also wanted to try out and giving her a different look, skin-tone and facial wise compared to all the other gods and goddesses out there.

Velka, Goddess of Sin: My favorite goddess, her lore and weaponry associated with her is cool, but even with DS3 and all its DLC, I wish we got to know more of her and how she even became the one to hold the title of “goddess of sin” and how she absolves it. She is also, I noticed in fan-art and fanfic, the other most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife.

Due to the fact that both Gwyndolin and Filianore are associated with illusions and magic, I interpret her as the mother of Filianore and Gwyndolin. She has sharp features and very pale skin, and share’s Filianore’s dark hair.

For her design, I compared aspects of the Statue of Velka from DS3, and both Oswald of Carim and Cromwell the pardoner. I didn’t want her to strictly dress like Oswald and Cromwell, so I incorporated more feathers to her outfit to give her a more “regal” look, as befitting a goddess, and not just pardoner. Funnily enough, with her book of sins and outfit, she also gives the aura of a medieval judge.

Caitha, Goddess of Tears: The third goddess associated with Carim, and one that I intentionally kept her eyes hidden. Mentioned in both 2 and 3, I want to reflect her constant “mourning” nature, and since ‘Gentle Prayer’ is associated with her chime in DS3, I thought her being in a position of prayer would be most appropriate.

Nahr Alma, God of Blood and Murder: Take Titchy Gren, make him more beast-like in proportion, now make him the size of Father Ariandel with the animalistic agility of the Orphan of Kos or Slave Knight Gael, and you have the God of Blood himself. I interpret him as a kind of god that is shunned by the rest, and is mostly treated as an attack dog, and nothing more. REALLY resents the other gods.

Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Title: Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,122

Anon Request: you think you could write one where the reader feels insecure about her stretch marks/size and Jensen is her best friend and tries to help her feel better?

Warnings: Negative Thoughts, Low Self-Esteem, Fluff, Implied Smut

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated, friends! xoxox

x

Your name: submit What is this?


    Pacing back and forth around your trailer almost drove you dizzy. Back and forth. Back and forth; as if that was going to simultaneously solve all of your problems. It wasn’t. Not even close.

    You had just gotten the memo that your intimate scene with Jensen was moved to today, not that you weren’t sweating buckets the second you got the script, but the fact that the scene was moved to today instead of five days from now had you ripping your hair from your head. You were going to be very exposed to him, and no matter how long the two of you had been friends, this was something you weren’t comfortable with on so many levels.

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anonymous asked:

prompt: andreil + emergency room visit

(this is a sequel to THIS ‘I think there’s someone in the house’ fic!)

The paramedics hammer on the door, and Neil looks up, teary-eyed, from where his face is pressed into Andrew’s damp hair. He’s feeling for his breath with the back of his hand, waiting moment to moment for Andrew to die in his arms, silently like he does everything else. Urgency keeps stunning Neil all over again, hysterical defibrillators. The EMT’s are calling out through the wall, muffled but calm.

It feels unthinkably wrong, their absolute evenness and ease outside his door when his life is an exposed neck and Andrew’s death is the whirring blade of a saw.

He realizes that he has to get up to let them in, and it seems as impossible as it would be for Andrew to spring up and answer the door himself. He feverishly wants them to crumple the door to splinters and be inside already. 

It’s a herculean effort to ease Andrew to the ground, like he’s gritting his teeth and cutting off his own leg. He touches Andrew’s clammy face briefly but he can’t bring himself to try and slap him awake. He props Andrew’s bare feet up on the rim of the bath so the blood will flood towards his head, at least.

He feels untethered to his body when he stands, a helium balloon with its usual weight passed out on the bathroom floor. He falls into the wall immediately, adrenaline neck and neck with exhaustion.

He finds his way to the front door without his mind’s help. His head is in the bathroom with Andrew, and he knows that no matter what happens it’ll be there for a long, long time.

The next time he blinks, a man in uniform is holding his biceps and peering down at him seriously.

“—sir? Sir, are you hurt at all?”

“No,” Neil says, lips numb. “Bathroom. He’s in the bathroom. He’s bleeding to death.”

He turns, easily slipping the paramedic’s grip. There’s a procession of them, hefting a gurney and a couple of kits, and they’ve brought all the cold from outside in on their heels. They’re such a foreign object in their warm, messy apartment — uniformed, official, and precise.

It’s deadly, walking in and seeing Andrew spread out in his boxers, blood oozing through his t-shirt from his loose stitches, pale enough to match the porcelain. Neil’s seen enough corpses to recognize what they look like. 

He falls heavily to his knees and puts his head directly to his chest, listening, tears slipping hotly over the bridge of his nose.

“Please,” he slurs. His heartbeat is a tentative thud, a knock from an unexpected guest. “Help him. Now, help him now.”

“We’re going to try our best Sir, but you’ve got to get out of the way,” someone says gently.

He topples backwards onto his hands. It’s a cramped space, and he knows it would be easier if he waited outside, but he also knows he’d rather die than leave them alone with him.

The first guy kneels down and takes Andrew’s pulse, and Neil shakes his head. They’re too slow, time is feeding directly into a wide open drain.

“He needs an IV. He’s two litres down, at least. You’ve got to—“ A petite woman puts a hand on his shoulder and he shrugs her off violently. “No! You have to listen to me.”

“We know what we’re doing,” she says. “Are you an MD?” She eyes him doubtfully, gaze flitting from his scars to where her colleagues are taking vitals and cutting through Andrew’s clothes.

“Yes,” Neil says wildly. “And he needs an IV. Possibly two. Large-bore, normal saline. He’s not getting any oxygen, and he’s been like this for as long as it took you to gather your meager response team.”

She purses her lips, but she’s a professional. He can see her repressing her anger and it infuriates him. He feels like he’s crashing, over and over again, and he’s watching someone daintily pump the breaks.

“He’s right,” one of the EMT’s says distractedly. “We’re gonna need to get some fluids started, he’s in hypovolemic shock, sats below 50.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” one of the men asks.

“No,” Neil says as evenly as he can manage, reaching out to graze Andrew’s cold fingers.

“Did you do these stitches?” the woman asks, pulling at Andrew’s skin to get a better look at them. He suddenly sees how they must look to them, sloppy and angry red. Neil bends her arm away without thinking about it.

“Don’t touch him,” he snaps. He could break her arm and it would make him feel better. He drops her, disoriented by his own violence.

“There’s no need to be antagonistic,” the first man says. “We don’t want to have to remove you.”

“You really don’t,” Neil agrees. “You won’t succeed.”

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ree-fireparrot  asked:

What makes an outfit practical or impractical to fight in? Would an acrobat's outfit with some decent shoes be okay to fight in? Any suggestions on how to make an outfit frilly/girly without sacrificing (too much) practicality? (Trying to come up with practical[ish] Magical Girl outfits - know it's not your genre probably - there are certain expectations for frilliness even for tomboyish characters)

You’re, basically, looking for three things: How well can you move in it, does it give potential foes anything to grab, and does it offer any protection?

If you can’t move freely in your clothes, you can’t fight in them. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about them being tight enough to restrict movement, or if they make it difficult to walk around. Tight skirts, high heels, tailored suits; it doesn’t matter; they’ll all limit your ability to fight.

With footwear, you’re looking primarily at how well you can stand and move in it. Shoes and boots designed to grip the floor are (usually) the best options here. So, things like sneakers or work boots are good options. Rubberized soles will help you keep your footing far better when you’re standing in someone’s blood than a dress shoe or high heels.

Things like long coats, ties, free flowing skirts, scarves, hoodies, or of course capes, won’t usually limit your mobility, but they can give an opponent something to grab. Once that happens, that article of clothing will limit your mobility (some). This is also a factor that’s difficult to completely eliminate. Practiced martial artists can, and do, go for collar or lapel grabs on clothing you might think would pass. That said, there are some special cases here.

If the article of clothing will tear away freely, it’s (kind of) a wash. You’re still talking about losing clothes, which isn’t usually something you want, but it means you’re not getting dragged out of position by an attacker.

If the combatant is ready for it, it’s possible to use something like this as a firing point to retaliate. If you know, roughly, where their hand is, it’s much easier to extrapolate where the rest of them is in relation to you. This still doesn’t make fighting in long flowing garments a good idea.

The final factor, almost by definition, doesn’t really apply with magical girls as a genre, and can get a little weird when you’re talking about any superhuman characters.

Ideally, if you’re planning to get into a fight, you’ll want durable clothing that will take a few hits, and hopefully shield you from harm. Materials like leather and denim hold up much better than lighter fabrics. Insulation in a jacket will take some kinetic force from a strike (not a lot, but still), so it’s better than just jeans and a tee, or even a denim jacket. This also gets into a discussion we’ve had before. Protection is often about making tradeoffs.

An insulated leather jacket will (slightly) reduce your mobility. It will give an opponent something they can grab. But, it will also offer protection from stray hits and while parrying incoming strikes. It won’t protect against gunshots, or against a sword, and if that’s what your character was likely to face, they’d need armor to deal with those threats instead.

Somewhat obviously, exposed skin isn’t offered any protection. Technically, skin itself is protection for your body, and it does function as your first line of defense against infection, but that’s mostly academic in this context.

This is also where, magical girls, and most superhero subgenres, deliberately start straying from reality, without actually being unrealistic (in the literary sense). What matters is if your character has some kind of protection from the threats they’re facing. It doesn’t matter if that’s an ancient alien artifact, a mystical gemstone, or the weaponized power of friendship. That is what protects your character, not her denim vest. You’re also talking about characters where the threats they face are, effectively, impossible to mitigate through mundane means. Again, a leather jacket, no matter how snazzy, won’t do much against a death beam from some snarling murderbeast, or blows from a sword with an enchantment that drains the soul from anyone who touches it. As I’ve said before, you select your armor to deal with the threats you’re likely to face, and when it comes to magical girls, those threats are (almost always) going to be far beyond anything you could physically protect against.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to fight off an arisen god of war in a school girl uniform, but it’s not like a flak vest would offer any more protection against a threat like that.

-Starke

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perspective

this is for @ivory-leigh with special thanks to @onemuseleft for her help with the idea

i super didn’t mean to write this tonight but the idea was SO GOOD and i’ve really been jonesing to write

In the weeks following what they’re calling The Battle of New York, Bruce settles into the Tower with an incredible ease.

The floor Tony designed for him is shockingly well-suited to his tastes and needs considering how Tony likes to claim he’s not a team-player. Bruce suspects each floor is equally well-designed and perhaps that’s why they’re all able to slip into a routine so quickly.

It feels like something missing has slotted into place and Bruce can tell just by looking at the others’ faintly bewildered expressions when they look around at the space they share that they feel the same.

Still, Bruce never looks toward Harlem.

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hellouniversehowareyou  asked:

Hello~I just watched the first ep.of American Gods and I must say that it is everything I hoped for and so much more!This book guided me through so much shit in my life and I am oh so thankful for it.I hope you are happy with the adaptation♥Anyway, it's been a year since I wrote a final thesis on A.G. and maybe someone will find it helpful? It can be found via google on Academia edu page under "Appropriations of mythologial figures in Neil Gaiman’s novel American Gods"Thanks again for everything

I’m so glad – and I thought your thesis contained a lot of excellent pointers. It’s at https://www.academia.edu/29364000/Appropriations_of_mythologial_figures_in_Neil_Gaiman_s_novel_American_Gods

A Little Closer

Author: @sebastianstandoffish

Pairing: Reader (She/Her) x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Sequel to A Personal Connection 

Word Count: 4k+

Category: SMUT DIRTY SMUT

Warnings: Cursing (per usual), pretty explicit smut (18+ you guys c’mon)

A/N: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I was struggling between pulling this one out of a very reluctant brain and writing some other stuff, but I hope you like it all the same!


After 72 years of ice and abstinence, Bucky worried his skills in the bedroom might’ve been a little rusty.

When (Y/N) had challenged him to just about the sexiest competition in the history of everything, he’d been absolutely floored. He’d thought about that girl for months: what he’d do to her, what he’d let her do to him (it was a little obsessive if he was honest with himself.) So, as she’d looked at him with darkened eyes and a wicked smile on her lips, he should’ve felt ecstatic, ready to haul her ashes right then and there. Instead, he’d floundered, blurting out the name of a diner a few blocks from the Tower and insisting they go right then.

Two weeks and the best six dates of his entire, excessively long life later, he was preparing to finally take the next step.

Maybe it was how much he’d grown to like (Y/N) and the fear that he would disappoint her, or how much time had passed since the last time he’d knocked a girl’s socks off, but he was freaking out. He felt like such a baby, whining and not doing backflips up and down the hallway at the opportunity to have sex with such a beautiful, kind girl.

He was probably going to hurl as soon as her saw her.

Keep reading

Guys My Age (1)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2554

Warnings: Lap dancing. ANGST.

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Thanks for the anon who recommended this song. I thank the heavens I found it because it’s so fucking relevant. I can’t seem to write smut without just a tinsy bit of a plot. But here you go.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 2

Originally posted by haidaspicciare

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A scene that 2x07 didn’t give us of Jace and Alec talking about Magnus

“I need you to leave tonight.”

Jace raised his eyebrows as he looked at where Alec was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, his expression firm and determined.

“It’s just for the night. You can come back tomorrow,” Alec continued before Jace even got a chance to say something back. “I know you can’t be at the Institute, but I heard that Luke has contacts all over the city who can help you find a place to stay. You could also stay with Luke, if you wanted to. I know that there’s a hotel by the Jade Wolf. Or maybe ask Izzy-”

“What for?” Jace tilted his head to the side, holding a copy of Pride and Prejudice that he was reading before Alec walked into his room in his hands. “Are you planning a surprise party for me?” He teased lightly. “I know you’re happy that I’ve been rescued from Valentine and all, but Alec, it’s okay, really.”

Alec rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “You are so conceited.”

“Okay, so that’s a ‘no’ on the surprise party,“ Jace pouted and threw a pillow in Alec’s direction, which meekly hit his leg. “This is why you’re the archer, you have the best aim,” He mumbled and returned to the page that he left off on. “So, what’s the reason?”

Alec hesitated, trying to frame his sentence the way he wanted. He looked up at the ceiling as if he could see the words floating above his head and he was rubbing his fingers together. “I want tonight to be special.” He decided, smiling a little, as if he was proud of his phrasing, and pursed his lips, nodding his head a little as he waited for Jace to respond

Jace clutched at his heart dramatically. “You say that tonight is going to be special, but you don’t want your wonderful parabatai to be there? Alec, I am offended.” Alec sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Not for you. For me and Magnus.” He replied sincerely after a moment of silence and Jace looked up from his book with a start.

“For you and-?” Realization washed over Jace like waves crashing against rocks and his face formed into an almost insane grin. He practically threw his book down and it bounced off the bed and onto the floor with a loud and startling thump.

Keep reading

Stop

Originally posted by words-plus-wisdom


Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: “15 - Jeff Atkins”

Prompt:

15. “It was the fifth time I’m calling her phone.”

Word count: 1.960

Posted: 14th of May 2017

A/N: An imagine in a Sunday night. It sucks that tomorrow is Monday again, I am not ready for the struggles that I may face this week. I hate school, because people suck!
Anyways, I hope you like this imagine and I would love to receive some feedbacks from you. Thank you so much for reading.

P.S.: I am not taking part 2 requests as I have lots of imagines to write. Sorry!

- G. x

Link: Prompt list

Warning: some bad words


“I’m going on a beer run soon, babe,” Your boyfriend, Jeff, informed you as he left some sweet and gentle kisses on your neck. “do you want to go with me?”

“Jeff, you aren’t driving!” You stopped him as you knew that he had some drinks during the night. “Ask someone else to buy some beer.”

You were in one of Jessica’s parties and people were having fun, alcohol was the main protagonist of the party and it was Jeff’s task to buy some if they ever ran out of them.

“Babe, I’m fine.” He sat on the empty side of the couch beside you and he grabbed your hand. “I had two beers, two hours ago.”

“Jeff!” You warned him, but he just let out some soft giggles. He knew how protective you were when it came to alcohol and your boyfriend. You hated him when he put his life in risks and you couldn’t help but discuss over it.

“Babe, I am sober and I promise.” He assured you as he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead. “So, are you coming with me?”

“Alright, fine!” You rolled your eyes as Jeff gave you a sweet wide smile. His smile revealed his white and perfect teeth and you honestly loved them so much, his smile was so contagious that it convinced you to smile back at him.

“I love you so much.” Jeff whispered and your world stopped as you felt some butterflies in your stomach. You honestly felt the sincerity in his voice and it still hit you every time, nevertheless you were together for months.

“I love you too, Atkins!” You giggled as you pressed your lips on his cheek, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you more, no lies!” He debated and before you could open your mouth to speak, he pulled you by your chin and he leant in to give you a sweet kiss.

It made you smile and you felt the sparks running through your veins as he deepened the kiss between the two of you. He pulled you closer to him as he played with your hair and you seriously found that adorable and relaxing.

“Atkins, we ran out of beer!” Some alcoholic asshole stated and he interrupted the kiss between the two of you. Jeff groaned in annoyance and you could say that he preferred to stay with you on the couch rather than buying some beer for the crowd.

“Go on, Atkins!” People cheered for Jeff and you saw your boyfriend rolling his eyes as you were both obliged to stop what you were doing.

“Alright, I’m going!” He finally stated and the crowd hollered louder. You both stood up from the couch, him grabbing your hand tightly to lead you the way out.

You went to the parking lot, but Sheri’s white Jeep was blocking your boyfriend’s car, meaning that you needed to ask Sheri to move her car.

“Wait, I am calling Sheri.” You offered and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. You brought your phone out of your pocket and searched for Sheri’s name in your phone book.

You waited for her to answer as the phone rang for several times, until it led you to her voicemail.

“No answer.” You stated and you tried calling her again, your fingers sliding smoothly on the screen of the device. You felt Jeff giving you some kisses on your neck and you felt shivers running down your spine. Your boyfriend was such a flirt, but you loved him just like that.

“Let’s search for her inside then.” Jeff proposed and you just nodded. He grabbed your hand as he led the way back inside Jessica’s house. He brought you with him, because he was afraid that some maniacs might hit on you, mostly when they were all drunk.

You tried calling Sheri as you followed Jeff around the house. You even asked around for her, but people would just slur or laugh because they were dead drunk.

“Did she answer?” Jeff turned his head at you and you just clicked your tongue in response. “Shit.” He swore under his breath.

It was the fifth time I am calling her phone.” You sighed and you tiredly shoved your phone in your pocket as soon as you heard her voicemail once again.

“Sheri!” Your boyfriend shouted for joy as his face brighten. He finally saw Sheri and you silently thanked God for it.

“Yeah?” Sheri looked at your boyfriend with a wide smile, obviously, she was having a great time with her circle of friends.

“You’re blocking me in, I’ve got to go for provisions.” Jeff honestly stated as he still held your hand tightly, protecting you from the alcohol-scented people around you.

“Oh shit!” Sheri swore as the loud music boomed behind her. “Okay, I’ll be right out. I have to get home anyways.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t want to make you leave.” Jeff kindly and sweetly said, being the sweetest angel that he was.

“No, no, no!” Sheri exclaimed as she shook her head, her black curly hair following her head’s movements. “I’m staying at my dad’s, which comes with a curfew. I’ll get my keys and be right out.”

“Thank you, ma'am!” Jeff smiled and Sheri just raised her shoulders.

You’ve always liked Sheri, she was fun to be with and she was always cheerful. She would worry whenever you showed some cold treatments to your boyfriend and you could say that she was the first one who supported your relationship with Jeff.

“Take care!” Sheri shouted to you and Jeff as she started her car’s engine. Hannah was sitting on her passenger’s seat and you gained some weak hand waves from her.

“You too!” You shouted back and gave Hannah some energetic hand waves.

You then watch Sheri pull her car out of the parking and you followed the white Jeep as it made its way to Hannah’s house.

“Let’s go?” Jeff asked you and you just nodded. You followed him in his car and you carefully put your seatbelt on.

“Babe, you aren’t drunk and you are sure that you can do this, right?” You assured yourself with a question and he just laughed at you. “I’m serious, Atkins!”

“Yes, Babe! I am sure that I can do this and I am not drunk, promise.” He answered, starting the engine. “I can even write an essay if you like or do a home run for you.”

“Idiot!” You both laughed as he started to drive towards the store. You admitted that he was still sober and he drove normally and carefully. He wouldn’t want to cause any accidents, mostly when you were with him. He didn’t want to hurt you, not even once.

You both listened to some music and you went to the store to buy some pints of beer for the whole crowd. The party has just started and the night was still young, so you both decided to buy more than the expected.

“That was the last one!” You stated as you handed him the last box of beer from your push cart.

“Great!” He exclaimed as he carefully closed the door. You put the push cart back on its place and Jeff started to drive again once you got back in his car.

Music was blasting in your car and you were both singing and dancing as you followed the beat of the loud song. You honestly enjoyed this party more than the one in Jessica’s house. It was perfect, because you had the only person that you really needed to be with that night.

“All you have to do is stay a minute, just take your time,” You sang as Jeff hummed the beat of it. He was smiling as he was driving, eyes concentrated on the road. “the clock is ticking, so stay.”

“I will always stay, babe!” Jeff assured you, stealing some little glances to admire your face. You giggled at him as the sweetness of your boyfriend kept on flattering you.

“Always?” You asked him with a soft toned voice and he nodded slowly, still with a wide smile on his face.

“Always!” He assured you and he looked at you for a while. He reached for your hand and caressed it gently.

You were having a sweet moment together, but it was interrupted as a bright light blinded your eyes and you noticed that there was a car going through the street with its full speed, obviously exceeding the speed limit.

“Jeff, stop!” You shouted as loud as you could to get your boyfriend’s attention and he harshly pressed the car’s break with his foot, the car screeching its wheels in a high-pitched tone. You almost bumped your head on the car’s airbags, but you luckily didn’t get hurt. You heard some beer bottles break from the back seat, but it was one of the last things that you were worried of.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Jeff worriedly asked to you, his eyes was masked with fear and terror. You could say that he was really worried for you.

“I am, Babe.” You quickly wrapped your arms around him as tears started to stream down your face. You were terrified and your heart kept on throbbing quickly. “Are you?”

“I am.” Jeff hugged you back tightly and he caressed your hair. “I’m sorry, babe. I am really sorry.” He whispered as he dealt with his nervous heart too.

“I-It’s okay, I was just afraid.” Jeff wiped your tears once you broke the hug between the two of you.

You thought of the possible things that might’ve happened to you and Jeff and a tight knot was formed in your stomach. You thanked yourself that you joined Jeff and you somehow managed to stop him in time.

“They must put a stop sign here.” Jeff demanded as he tried to calm himself, his breathing was almost normal and your fear has almost vanished. He was shaking, though. The thought of that he almost hurt you crashed him. What if things went worse? He knew that he couldn’t forgive himself, if ever.

“They really must, this is dangerous!” You agreed as you cleared your vision by wiping your tears better. Your heart was still beating abnormally and you assumed that it was for the happening. “Wait, is that Hannah?”

“Yeah.” Jeff answered as he tried to focus his eyes on the silhouette that stood in front of the gasoline station. “Wasn’t she with Sheri?” Jeff corrugated his forehead as he curiously asked you the obvious.

Jeff slowly drove towards her and stopped just right in front of her. “Hannah?”

You softly called her and she quickly turned her head in your direction. “Didn’t Sheri offer herself to bring you home?”

Hannah just nodded, eyes concentrated to something else. Her body was shaking as she absentmindedly talked to you. “Sheri.”

“What happened, Hannah?” Jeff peeked to the opened window to see Hannah’s red and teary face.

“Stop sign.” Hannah emotionlessly pointed the knocked stop sign at the edge of the road and you quickly shot a shocked glance to Jeff.

“Damn it, Sheri.” You cursed under your breath as you realized that you almost died because of her.

Your body became paralyzed, so as Jeff’s body. Everything just hit your senses and you realized how destiny could be an asshole sometimes. Many things might’ve happened during that moment. Many things.

You still couldn’t believe that you were safe and you kept murmuring some messages of gratefulness as you calmed yourself down, holding Jeff’s hands tightly.

You could’ve died, but you didn’t. Luckily.


anonymous asked:

Okay so you sent this: "But AU where Y/N is a rich daddy's girl and Bucky is the valet, right? She's got a crush the size of Jupiter on him and is always doing things to get him all riled up. One day Bucky has had enough and drags her to garage and sits her on top of the limo "You're the last problem I need, little girl. Stop it" ' for Sinful Sunday once and I was wondering if you'd write something for it?

Ok, first of all this is a very surrealistic thing. Thank you anon for sending me my own idea to write something for it. LOL.

Smut under the cut, y’all know me. Don’t act surprised. Obviously 18+. Dirty talk, name calling, fucking on the hood of a car and pantie destruction. Oh, and unprotected sex. Use protection, there are too many of us already. 

Originally posted by monstacookies


Bucky Barnes was a lot of things, he had been many things in the past too. He had done a  lot of things, good and bad. But there was one thing he wasn’t and he had no plans on being: a rich daddy’s girl plaything. He needed his job and he wasn’t about to loose it over the whims of a girl that didn’t knew what it was like to actually have to work for a living. And as much as he would like to just bend her over and teach her a lesson, he liked having a roof over his head more.

You, on the other hand, had a crush on James. A huge crush on him. He was this tall, dark and handsome kind of guy with the most striking pair of blue eyes you had ever seen and he was not one of the rich dumb boys you were used to deal with. He was a man, and you wanted him so bad.

She’d do things just to rile him up, but her favorite was changing in the back of the car. She would make Bucky drive to a mall, go with her into an expensive boutique, buy some clothes she would wear only once and then change in the back of the car not even bothering to roll up the partition, so he could see her striping, sometimes completely, and then change slowly into her new clothes. It never failed to make him hard.

You had done everything in your power, you had seen the way he looked at you. You had seen the effect you had on him. You had flirted and teased and you had seen him smirk at you when you’d get changed in the back of the car, but he just wouldn’t act on it. What else did you have to do? 

The moment Bucky laid eyes on her he knew it was going to be one of the nights when he’d have to grasp at straws to not do something stupid, like fucking her brains out in the back of the car. She was wearing a dress that looked more like lingerie than actual clothes. And the way she smiled at seeing him reclined against the car, told Bucky she was going to test his patience.

James opened the back door for you, but you ignored it “Tonight I want to go front, with you James” He didn’t said anything, just closed the door and opened the front one “Thank you”

That was the moment Bucky decided he had had enough, Instead of rounding the car and gettin in, he opened he door again and pulled her out of the car “I know what you’re doin’”

“Well, I was trying to get to the resaurant. What are you doing?” You smirked up at him, knowing you were just this close of getting what you wanted. Bucky grabbed your arm and dragged you to the front of the car and hauled you on top of it.

“You’re the last problem I need, little girl. Stop it” He was so close you could feel his body heat and his hands on your waist, the cold of the metal seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“And if I don’t?” Bucky crashed his lips to yours and, when you tried to put your hands around your neck, he grabbed your wrists and placed your hands on the hood of the car.

“Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson” He kisses you again and starts to bunch your dress around your hips, you try to move your hands but he pins them to the hood again, smirking at your surprised gasp “Bet you’ve been thinkin’ about this every night like the little cock slut you are, didn’t you princess?” James starts to unbotton his pants and you watch almost in a trance as he pulls his impressive cock out and you moan.

“Yes, James” You wrap a hand around him and he hisses, grabbing your jaw and kissing you again “I’ve been thinking about this every day and I need you to fuck me now”

He chuckles at your words and he rips the bottom of your panties and drags you to the edge of the car, burying himself inside of you in one swift motion, making you both groan into each other’s mouths, he gives you a couple of seconds to get used to him, then he starts moving fast and hard and you’re having trouble catching your breath.

“Oh, my God… Fuck!” You scream/whisper and Bucky puts a hand over your mouth, biting down on your shoulder and making you whimper, while his hips keep snaping against you.

“Do you want your daddy to hear you and come out to find you being fucked on top of his car? See how I turn you into my little fuck toy?” You shake your head and look at him. He starts kissing your neck and you move your hand between your bodies, touching your clit and bringing yourself closer and closer to your orgasm with every flick.

Your sounds are muffled by his hand but you shudder in Bucky’s arms when you finally come, triggering his own release and listening to his low growls of your name, his thrusts becoming sloppy and disjointed, his come filling you.

You stay like that for a few moments, before Bucky jumps into action and pulls out of you, tucking his lenght back into his pants and getting a pocket square out of his jacket, cleaning you up with careful and tender movements.

“Well, I guess this is how I loose my job” A boyish smile on his lips and a mischievious glint in his eyes.

“No, is not” You pull him in for a quick kiss “If you know how to keep a secret, I know how to do it, too” You let him go and hop down of the car, smirking “I still have a dinner to attend, James”

I Got You On My Mind [Part 6]

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

[Part OnePrevious Part | Part Six | Next Part

Summary: After regaining some of your memories, you and Jungkook finally face the truth.

Word count: 1.9k words

Originally posted by jungxook

When Jieun came home, she found you sitting on the floor. Your eyes were red, but your tears had dried long ago. Jieun regarded your blank expression with concern, immediately dropping to the ground to check on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jieun asked frantically, looking at your body for injuries. “Did you hurt your leg again? Why are you crying?”

You sighed and closed your eyes, feeling more tired than upset. Jieun’s flittering hands stilled, as if she sensed that something was off.

“Y/N?”

“I remember now, Jieun,” you said. “I remember what happen that night, and what happened after. I know that you and Jungkook were a thing, and that he rejected me right away.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Jieun whispered, her own eyes watering. “I didn’t want to upset you or confuse you. It hurt you so much the first time, I didn’t want to see you go through it again.”

“I just don’t understand,” you replied, your voice strained with frustration. “Did you like him? Do you still like him? Is that why you tried to hide your relationship with him from me?”

“What? No! No, of course not,” Jieun exclaimed, her eyes widening with surprise. “I mean, I did have a bit of a crush on him, but our relationship was just physical. It ended as soon as you two figured out that you’re…you know, soulmates.”

“But I’m still confused,” you said, trying to hold off another wave of tears. “Jungkook said he wanted nothing to do me. But now he’s so sweet. He’s like two different people, and I don’t know which one is the real him.”

“Just talk to him,” Jieun smiled, rubbing your back gently. “He’s not as bad as you remember. I’m sure the person Jungkook is with you now is the person he wishes he was when you first met.”

“Still, why was he so cruel in the beginning?” you asked helplessly. “I don’t know if I can forgive that.”

“Only Jungkook can answer that,” Jieun replied softly. “Promise me you’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, realizing that Jieun knew much more than she let on. She helped you to your feet and led you back to the couch. You decided you wouldn’t press her for more information, because in the end, you would need to talk to Jungkook eventually.


Even though you had decided to talk to Jungkook, you hadn’t been able to muster enough courage to confront him. He had no idea that you had regained your memories, so he was contacting you like usual. But when you picked up your phone to reply, the events of your first encounter flashed before your eyes. Every time that happened, you put your phone down and tried to ignore your heavy heart.

So, to put it simply, you had been ignoring Jungkook for the past week.

You had several unread messages in your inbox from Jungkook. Surely Jungkook was so popular, he wasn’t used to be ignored. The texts started coming less frequently, and you wondered if they would eventually stop all together. You figured–albeit guiltily–that if Jungkook really wanted company, he could find another girl.

One Thursday afternoon, you were reading through some notes sent to you by a classmate when you heard Jungkook’s thoughts whispering in the back of your head. You jumped, growing unaccustomed to your soulmate’s presence after such a long period of silence.

“Why isn’t she talking to me?” Jungkook thought, and although it was quiet in your mind, you could hear the worry in your voice. Your heart panged, and you felt bad for assuming the worst of Jungkook. Clearly, he was still thinking of you. “Did I do something wrong again?”

Again.

No, not again. The first mistake was hurtful enough. But of course, Jungkook had no idea that you remembered what he had done. You wanted to scream at him–make him hurt as much as he had hurt you. But you also just wanted to see him again, because you had grown to love the caring side of Jungkook that he had shown you.

“Maybe her condition got worse,” came Jungkook’s next thought, which sounded even more alarmed than the last. “I should stop by. Yeah–I’ll go after class.”

You jumped to your feet, wavering as you tried to catch your balance. Reaching out for your crutches, you hobbled out of your room and into the living room, where Jieun was playing guitar.

“Jieun!” you screeched, making her jump.

“Oh my god!” Jieun squealed, placing a hand over her heart dramatically. “Why are you screaming at me?”

“Jungkook’s coming here after his class is over,” you hurried to explain, your words overlapping in your haste. Still, Jieun understood what you were trying to say.

“Oh, so do you need me to leave?” Jieun asked, setting aside her guitar. “I can disappear for an hour or two.”

“No, no! Definitely do not leave,” you squeaked desperately. “I’m not ready to see him! I need you to cover for me. Tell him that I’m not home and that I forgot my phone here.”

“What? Y/N, are you avoiding him?” Jieun demanded, her face growing dark. “You promised me that you would talk to him! Ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.”

“I know, I know!” you replied. “And I will talk to him, but I’m just not ready yet. I need time to process everything so that I can face him properly. I don’t want to get upset and ruin things forever.”

Jieun’s face softened at your obvious fear, and she sighed. “I understand why you’re scared, but you should trust Jungkook a little bit too,” she argued. “He’s shown you that he’s a good guy, right? I get why you’re so hesitant, believe me. But I’m also seeing this from Jungkook’s perspective, too.”

“You’re my friend, be on my side!” you whined. Jieun rolled her eyes at you.

“Okay, don’t do that. I’m doing what’s best for you,” Jieun said. “Even though you don’t want to talk to him now, in the long run, you’ll be thanking me for making you two work out your problems.”

“I’ll thank you even more if you cover for me this one time,” you said, on the borderline of begging. “I swear I’ll talk to him after, Jieun! I just need a little more time. I’m really not ready to see Jungkook.”

“Fine,” Jieun sighed, falling back onto the couch in frustration. “I’ll cover for you this one time. You can go hide in your room or whatever.”

“Thank you so much, Jieun!” you cried. “I love you so much! You’re the best.”

“I know,” Jieun laughed. “And I’m assuming you ignored all of Jungkook’s attempts to contact you up until now?”

You looked away guiltily.


When Jungkook knocked on the door, you were hiding in your room. Your bedroom door was left slightly ajar, so if you peeked through, you could see the foyer. Jieun approached it, glaring at you as she did. You sent her a thankful smile.

Jieun opened the door, but you couldn’t see Jungkook.

“Oh, Jieun,” Jungkook said. You missed the sound of his sweet voice–you could admit that. “Is Y/N around? I haven’t heard from her since I saw her last week.”

“No, she’s not around,” Jieun replied easily. “Y/N had to spend the week with her grandparents, because they got really worried when they heard about the accident. And she was dumb enough to leave her phone at home.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said, sounding surprised. It sounded like a valid excuse, and you were a little shocked that Jieun was so good at lying. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell me earlier.”

“It’s because she didn’t know that she would be leaving until her grandparents showed up,” Jieun answered. She continued a bit sheepishly, “Actually, I was supposed to tell you that she would be out of town. I guess I forgot.”

“Yeah, guess you did,” Jungkook replied dryly. Jieun just shrugged and sent him a carefree smile. “When will she be back?”

“Sometime next week,” Jieun said. You gulped, realizing that she was giving you a deadline.

“Alright,” Jungkook said slowly. He sounded like he was getting ready to leave. “Thanks, I guess.”

Jieun began to close the door slowly. You exhaled in relief, feeling your body deflate. I can’t believe that worked, you thought. Jieun should have been an actress.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly thundered. Jieun jumped, backing away from the door. Jungkook burst through the foyer. “Why are you lying to me?”

“W-what are you talking about?” Jieun stammered.

“Y/N, where are you?” Jungkook called out, ignoring Jieun completely. “I know you’re here. I can hear you thinking right now.”

Oh shit.

“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Jungkook snorted. He scanned the apartment, finally settling on your bedroom door. He saw your face peeking through, and he smiled slightly and began to approach you.

Accepting your fate, you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door, clutching the doorframe for support.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Jungkook asked once he stood in front of you, the hurt clear in his downtrodden expression. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied tiredly.

“What was it?” Jungkook questioned, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did. I thought you had a good time with me last week.”

“I did,” you smiled. “You’ve been really great since the hospital. You helped me a lot, and you’re fun to be around.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Jungkook asked, cocking his head adorably in confusion.

“It’s what happened before then,” you said simply.

Jungkook paled, his mouth opening slightly. His eyes lowered, and you could see his jaw clenching. He stood there quietly for a few moments, but eventually, he tentatively lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“You remember everything,” Jungkook said quietly. It wasn’t a question. He was biting his lip nervously, and you wondered why he was the nervous one when it was you who had been deceived all along.

“Not everything, but I remember enough,” you responded. You broke your eye contact with Jungkook, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t understand you at all, Jungkook. Why are being so nice now?”

“It’s…it’s a really long story,” Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t justify what I did, but if it means anything to you, I regret everything that happened that night. I didn’t mean a word I said.”

“Then why did you say what you did?”

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Jungkook replied. “I can explain it to you if you’re willing to listen. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. And if you don’t want to see me after this, I won’t bother you ever again.”

“How do I know that what you’re saying is the truth?” you asked, looking at Jungkook for any signs of deceit.

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

You almost laughed–how could you trust him so easily again? But you remembered the boy who  had slept by your bedside in the hospital, and the boy who acted like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The boy who had promised to sing to you.

“Fine, I’ll listen,” you breathed.

- Girl in Luv

Ok…this took to long. I kind of lost inspiration for this series, but it’s back now! You can expect more regular updates. The story’s drawing to a close…so what do think is going to happen? Also heads up: no posts tomorrow night. We’re going to prom!!! Thanks for reading guys! Ya girl’s gonna get turnt!

Hell of A First Time

Pairing: Castiel x Sam x Dean x Virgin!Reader (no destiel, sastiel,or wincest–sorry!)

Word Count: 4.3k words of SIN

Warnings: it’s a threesome with dean as a voyeur. and the reader’s a virgin. lots of orgasms. and there’s oral. tada!

A/N: this is my first time writing a threesome, so be kind, friends!! feedback is so greatly appreciated!

Originally posted by stayclassysupernatural

You, Sam, Dean and Cas sat around the map table sharing a bottle of whiskey, celebrating another successful hunt. It was nights like these—full of laughter, jokes and telling stories—that you treasured most. Being a hunter pretty much ensured a short-lived life, so you always treasured the small moments of joy spent with your best friends.

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Seattle Rains

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A new girl brings rainstorms to Riverdale, and more specifically, more rain in Jughead’s world.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,844

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t been writing requests, but this idea popped in my head and I decided to write it.  Hope you all enjoy!


He only saw her when it was raining.  Maybe it was pure coincidence, or maybe it was a sign.

The first time he met her was a rainy Monday afternoon.  It was the first day of their freshman year in Riverdale High.  Jughead continuously announced to anxiety-ridden Archie and Betty that he was not nervous at all.  He would never admit it, but there was a twinge of fear in his stomach as he walked through the doors of his new school.

The day became a blur in his memories, nothing especially memorable occurring.  Except one thing: her.

(Y/N) had just moved to Riverdale from Seattle, so her rainy first day of school in a small town helped her transition from the large city she was used to.  She sat in her last class of the day, English, when the rain began to pour even harder.  Right as the bell signaling the beginning of class rang, one last boy walked through the door.

Jughead knew that, by being late, he wouldn’t get a seat in the back of the classroom that he craved.  There was only one vacant seat left next to a girl he didn’t recognize.  He sat down next to her, slumping in his chair.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” he whispered as the teacher explained the syllabus.  (Y/N)’s head shifted to look at him out of the corner of her eye, shocked that someone had spoken to her.  She had been ignored all day.

“Yeah,” she confirmed his suspicions.  "How did you know?“

"This is a small town,” Jughead answered.  "Everyone knows everyone.“

"Right,” she muttered, turning her focus back to the teacher.  Jughead, however, continued to stare at the new girl.

“I’m Jughead,” he introduced himself.  "Jughead Jones the third.“

"The third?” (Y/N) quietly laughed.

Jughead shrugged.  "Yeah,“ he responded.  A smile grew on his face.  "It’s funny, though, because most people laugh at my name being Jughead.”

“I think it’s cool,” she complimented.  "I’m (Y/N).“

"Well, (Y/N),” Jughead said, “what’s the-”

“Mr. Jones!” their teacher suddenly interrupted their conversation.  "Ms. (Y/L/N)! Please, no talking while I’m speaking!“

Jughead and (Y/N) muttered ashamed apologies, and with a satisfied nod, the teacher turned back to the board.  Jughead shifted in his chair so that he was slightly facing (Y/N).

"I was gonna ask what’s the best burger you’ve ever eaten,” he explained quietly.  "But that’s a stupid question, because I’m gonna introduce you to a burger that’ll put every other thing you’ve ever eaten to shame.“

"Oh really?”

“Definitely,” he smirked.  "Have you ever been to Pop’s diner?“


The rain reduced to a drizzle as Jughead and (Y/N) walked from school to Pop’s.

"You’re sure you don’t need an umbrella?” Jughead asked for the hundredth time.

(Y/N) laughed, “For the last time, Jughead, I’m fine.  I’m from Seattle; I can handle a bit of rain.”

Jughead’s umbrella offers died down after that, and the two quickly arrived at Pop’s.  They entered the diner, Jughead leading her towards his favorite booth. He sent subtle waves towards all the beaming waitresses who greeted him.

“Someone’s popular,” (Y/N) commented as she and Jughead sat down across from each other.

“I come here quite often,” he shrugged.  

A waitress approached the table and asked for their orders.  Immediately, before (Y/N) could even open her mouth, Jughead ordered two cheeseburgers.  About ten minutes later, the same waitress carried out two baskets.  She set one in front of both Jughead and (Y/N).  Jughead watched as (Y/N) picked up her burger.

“Are you gonna eat yours?” she asked before she took her first bite.

Jughead shook his head. “Not until I see your reaction,” he said, biting back a smirk.  (Y/N) shrugged and nonchalantly took a bite.  As her tongue registered the beautifully charred beef mixed with the freshly melted cheddar, topped with refreshing tomatoes and lettuce, Jughead broke out into a grin.  

“This is so good,” she moaned, taking more bites of her burger.

“I told you,” Jughead laughed.

“We’re gonna come back here every day and get these, right?” (Y/N) asked, between burger bites. Jughead’s grin widened.

“Whenever you want.”


Riverdale was rainy for that entire week.  On Thursday, their English teacher assigned their first project of the year, splitting the class into pairs.  As if answering both of their prayers, the English teacher paired up (Y/N) and Jughead. They decided to start the project that night, agreeing to meet at (Y/N)’s house.

“I’m sorry about all the boxes,” (Y/N) apologized as they entered her bedroom.  “I still haven’t finished unpacking.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jughead waved it off.  “My place is even messier, and I can’t make up excuses about having just moved here.” (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, sitting on her bed.  Jughead chose to remain standing, scanning (Y/N)’s room.  He glanced at her pastel blue walls, the simply-framed windows covered by pale white curtains.  He walked in front of the window.

“I think you brought Seattle weather with you to Riverdale,” Jughead commented, pulling (Y/N)’s wispy curtains aside to look at the rainstorm outside her window.  She rose from her bed and walked over to stand next to him.

“Good,” she muttered.  He turned to face her and raised his eyebrows. “I like the rain.”

“So do I,” he agreed, “but this is excessive.”

“No such thing.”


Even without the project, Jughead and (Y/N) frequently met up.  Whether it be the drive in, (Y/N)’s house, or Pop’s, the two always tried to make time for each other.

A month after they met, Jughead decided to introduce (Y/N) to his other two best friends: Archie and Betty.  

It was drizzling on a Wednesday when they met in Pop’s, both Archie and Betty immediately adoring (Y/N).

“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled, sticking out her hand to shake.  (Y/N) beamed as she happily shook Betty’s hand.  “I’m Betty Cooper.”

“And I’m Archie Andrews,” Archie greeted, choosing to simply wave at (Y/N) rather than shake her hand.

“I’m (Y/N),” she introduced herself, laughing, “but it seems that you already knew that.”

“Jughead talks about you a lot,” Betty giggled, causing (Y/N) to smirk at Jughead.

“Oh really?” she inquired, and Jughead rolled his eyes.

“She’s never gonna let that go,” he complained to Betty and Archie.  “Thanks a lot.”

The four quickly fell into a casual conversation, (Y/N) fitting into the friend group with ease. It felt like she had always been with them in Riverdale.  Archie and Betty noticed the obvious chemistry between her and Jughead, and throughout the dreary evening, Archie and Betty exchanged knowing glances as they observed (Y/N) and Jughead’s interactions.  Neither of them said anything, but instead, they chose to just sit and watch Jughead and (Y/N) slowly but surely fall in love.


After two more months, Betty and Archie grew frustrated with the lack of progression in Jughead and (Y/N)’s relationship.  Riverdale had grown too cold for it to rain anymore, but the snow, in Jughead’s mind, still counted as rain.  It was only frozen.

He hadn’t seen (Y/N) in a while outside of school, both of them too busy.  (Y/N) became buried under her heavy academic burden, and Jughead grew immersed in his writing.  They hadn’t grown apart, they just didn’t grow any closer, much to Betty and Archie’s dismay.


A bitter and cold February passed through Riverdale, and it was during that month that (Y/N) finally met Kevin Keller.  It had been four months since Betty and (Y/N) had met, and the two of them grew very close.  Not as close as (Y/N) and Jughead, but Betty was definitely (Y/N)’s go-to girl.  

“You’re gonna love Kevin,” Betty assured her as they sat in Betty’s pastel pink room.  

“If you insist,” (Y/N) smiled.  A light knock on the door caught their attention, and they whipped their heads around to see Kevin entering Betty’s bedroom.

“I finally have the privilege to meet the famous (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he grinned.

“Kevin Keller,” she laughed. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, sitting down next to her.  “God, I’ve been dying to meet you ever since Betty started talking about how cute you and Jughead were together.”

“Together?” she lightly scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes.  “Jughead and I are just friends.”

“And you like it that way?” Betty questioned with a smile tugging at her lips.

(Y/N) hesitated for a split second.  “Of course,” she answered.

“You hesitated,” Kevin immediately noted.  (Y/N) released an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.  “I never really thought about it that way.”

“Well maybe you should start considering it,” Betty suggested.  “I’ve known Jughead for years, and I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you.”


The rest of winter breezed through, and soon April showers began to roll into Riverdale.  It was the rainiest spring they ever had, but it came to no shock to Jughead.  He stood by his belief that (Y/N) brought the Seattle rain with her.

With spring came more free time for (Y/N) and Jughead, allowing them to begin to meet up more often. Their relationship picked up where they had just left off, except with a small alteration.  Jughead couldn’t quite pick up what had changed between the two of them, but (Y/N) knew exactly what it was.

They sat in her bedroom again.  It was a typical scene, but something was different.  The sun was out for what felt like the first time since they met.  Something had shifted in their relationship, and neither (Y/N) nor Jughead knew how to express it.

“The sun’s out,” Jughead gave his daily weather report.  (Y/N)’s eyes lazily flicked towards her window, watching the beams of light float into her room.

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“I don’t think it’s been sunny since you’ve moved here,” he joked, forcing out a laugh.  (Y/N)’s fingers twiddled with the soft fabric of her bed.  Jughead sighed at her lack of response.  They sat in silence for a couple minutes, Jughead continuing to stare out the window and (Y/N) fidgeting on her bed.  Finally, (Y/N) stood up and crossed her arms over her chest as she ventured next to Jughead.

“It was very rude, you know,” she drawled, earning a confused look from Jughead, “that you made me fall in love with you.  Inconsiderate, really.”

A split second of silence passed as Jughead tried to collect his wits.

“Not what you had in mind?”  He smirked.

(Y/N) shrugged.  "Quite inconvenient, actually.“

"I’m not sorry,” he stated, stepping closer to her. He tenderly placed a hand on her cheek.

“Me neither,” she whispered, her gaze focused on his lips.

Without any more hesitation, Jughead brought (Y/N)’s face towards his and pressed his lips against hers, just a feather-light kiss.  She wrapped her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to deepen the kiss, like a flower craving the thirst-quenching rain.

“You know,” Jughead disconnected their lips, “I lied about liking the rain.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling.  "I just pretended to like it for you.  I actually hate the rain.“

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