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Korean Language Learning Youtube Channels

These are language-learning-oriented or good channels to practice listening

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List posted in my masterpost of all Korean-related resources

The Princess & The Snake || S.P.

PART ONE

a/n: This was not requested, but I have been thinking a lot about Sweet Pea and how he needs a LOT more recognition. So, I wrote this. I absolutely adore him and I really hope you guys like this possible fic!?!?! I am really excited about this so, here is “The Princess & The Snake.”

P.O.V: first person

summary: Y/N grew up alongside Archie, Jughead, Betty, Cheryl, and Josie. Her mother was a hotshot realtor on the Northside of Riverdale and she was one of the girls lucky enough to call themselves a River Vixen. When a bunch of Serpents show up across the street to start trouble with Archie, she meets the one person who could flip her whole world upside down.

warnings: Cussing, violence

word count: 2,497 :)

(gif not mine)

KEY: Y/M/N= your middle name; y/h/c= your hair color; Y/L/N= your last name.

Part Two  Part Three

MASTERLIST

❝A bad boy can be very good for a girl❞  

- Melissa de la Cruz

Originally posted by my-sweet-pea


Keep reading

Only If You Say So - Part One

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Jerome Valeska x Reader

Note: So, I realized that this fic is taking too bloody long and I decided to split it in two. This first part doesn’t have any smut like I know you’re all hanging out for, but it’s gonna set the mood so-to-speak. 

Warnings: Slightly graphic?


You were just sitting around eating takeout when your home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone ever called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls that you only ever received more than once or twice a month. With a roll of your eyes, you paused the film you were watching and went to grab it, figuring you were due for some hour long lecture.

“Hello?” You answered.

“(Y/N)?”

Perking up at the voice on the other line, your brows shot up in excitement - a reaction that would never accompany a call from your parents.

“Jimmy!” You greeted, “What can I do for - “

“Turn on the TV.”

Your smile fell into an expression of concern. Something was wrong. You’d known Jim Gordon long enough to recognize the tone of worry in his voice without even being in the same room as him.

“What channel?” You asked, rushing back into the living room and picking up the remote.

“Any.” Is all he said.

The film switched off and suddenly the familiar face of the news lady filled your television screen. “As has been reported, Channel Nine’s van was stolen this evening,” she said, “We are now getting video from the thief which we will play in hope it leads to his apprehension.”

Suddenly the screen fuzzed out and static came from the speakers before a raspy voice called out;

“Testing, testing…”

Your eyes narrowed as the camera began to focus. “Jim, what’s going on?”

“Am I live?”

In a state of shock and dread, your body completely froze in front of your television screen, your hand clutched tightly around the remote as you stared into the familiar eyes of the ginger lunatic that you had known to be dead. Your breath caught in your throat and you readjusted your grip on your phone.

“Am I on air?”

“It’s Jerome.”

Can you hear me?”

At Jim’s confirmation, your legs buckled and you stumbled backwards into the couch behind you. The room seemed to spin and you drop the remote as you collapsed. Your breathing becomes more rapid, more shallow as you try to make sense of the situation. “How?”

“Dwight, he succeeded in bringing him back -”

“ - He can’t be back, Jim. I was there. He died. He just can’t - ”

“ - Ah, screw it. Let’s do it.”

You stared blankly at your TV, your body quivering in fright. Had it not been for his red hair and the way he danced around like the showman he was, you might not have been able to recognize him. His voice was scratchy and deeper than you remembered, and his face - oh Lord, his face.

Everyone had heard about the recent uprising of facepainted nutjobs running a muck in the streets of Gotham, and you knew that they seemed to be following in the footsteps of Jerome Valeska. You also knew that a man by the name of Dwight was among them; a crazed experimentalist whom had been involved in the resurrection of Fish Mooney, Theo Galavan and many more of Gotham’s recently deceased criminals. Even you hadn’t missed the broadcasted hijacking of Channel Nine earlier that day. You had been horrified to find that Dwight had cut off Jerome’s face and had worn it as a mask, but it seemed that Jerome was not ready to part with it just yet.

His face had been neatly stapled back on; the skin stretched as to fit over his mouth and eyes without flapping about. It looked like something out of a horror movie, and you weren’t entirely certain you weren’t living one.

“Some of you may know I died.” Jerome gave a disappointed little smile. “Ah oh. And take it from me; death is dull. But coming back, that is something. Leave it to dying to give you a whole new perspective on life and I’d like to share that with you.”

“Are you still there, (Y/N)?”

You watched as Jerome turned away from the camera and approached a man that had been tied up to several explosives and barrels of flammable liquids behind him. From what you could see it was Dwight. “Yeah,” You replied, “Yeah, I’m still here.”

Jerome wiped out a lighter from behind Dwight’s ear and twirled around to the camera, giving a little bow. “Tonight, Gotham, in the darkness there are no rules. So, tonight do what you want - kill who you want - ”

He suddenly started to choke, cutting himself off from his speech to clear his throat.

“ - and when morning comes,” he then set the flame to the fuse, “you too shall be…reborn.”

Then the cackle that had been haunting you since the day you had first met him echoed from the television speakers.

“Where is he, Jim?” You hissed into the phone. “Where?!”

“Power plant across the river from HQ,” said Jim, “We’re getting a helicopter now. Where are you?”

“At home,” you told him, your voice cracking. “Directly across the river from HQ. Jim, you aren’t going to make it. Jerome’s - ”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Jim growled. “You’ve got to get out of there. He’ll be coming for - ”

Suddenly, like an earthquake, the ground beneath your feet shook and all power went out.

“Jim?” You tried. “Jim!”

Looking down at your phone, you saw that all bars had gone, including wifi. The TV died with a faint click and all lights within the house had turned off. Dropping your phone beside the remote, you bolted up and off the couch, quickly making your way to the front door. You knew there was no point in leaving; the power plant was only a few streets away, meaning Jerome could arrive in a matter of minutes, not long enough for you to escape down the street. Locking the door, you shoved the hallway cabinet in front, hoping to give yourself a little bit more time to find a decent hiding spot.

As you ran through the house, you finally realized the huge design flaw. There were absolutely no good places to hide. The closet and under the bed might have been why too cliche for this situation, but they were your only options. Looking between them, your mind whirled. Maybe there was still time…

You were wrong.

The first knock on your door was light and playful. The next was loud and demanding. Without a second thought you bolted to your closet, pulling the door open and shoving yourself inside to the very back, behind the coats, robes and dresses. Your heart raced in fear as you pressed your back against the wall, the dust tickling your nose as you disturbed your winter clothes that hadn’t been worn in what felt like ages. The throb of your own pulse and your uneven breath were the only sounds you could hear; the low buzz of electricity having been switched off by the explosion of the Power Plant.

You could hear the rattle of the door handle. Your heart jumped in your throat and your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Then it stopped.

Then you heard the breaking of one of your windows.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Part Two

Pictures of Love (Peter Parker)

Originally posted by tomhollandhollaatme

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: None

Summary: Peter and Y/N have been friends since they were children and as kids, used to childishly flirt with one another all the time until one day, Peter stopped and so did Y/n. Y/N doesn’t realize it until one day looking through old home movies with Aunt May.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is just a fluffy little fic I thought up. I hope you like it!

Masterlist Request Any Of These


“Aw, May! I can’t believe you found these!” You cried as you held the old VHS tapes in your hands, each one labeled with a different point in Peter’s life, some titles including your own name. “We have to watch some of these.”

“I was thinking since you’re staying over, you, Peter and I could watch the ones you’re in. You know, reminisce​ in the old days.”

“May, I would love that." You replied, running your finger along the edge on the tapes, bringing back memories of Peter’s aunt and uncle running around with the camera following you two. "Peter! Hurry up, you slow poke!”

“Okay, okay! I’m coming! Jeez, Y/n, you can’t rush perfection.” Peter stated, waltzing into the room with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

He set the bowl down in front of you and May, who quickly took pieces of the snack as if they’d waited an eternity to eat.

“So much for perfection,” You said. “it’s a little too salty.”

May laughed. “Agreed. Now, Y/n, would you like to do the honors and pick out a video?”

“Gladly!” You chirped, leaning forward and finding a tape that caught your eye when you looked through them earlier.

You picked out the tape marked “Peter and Y/n at the park, age 4” and rose from your seat to put the tape into the player before sitting back down, leaning into Peter, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“Mr. Ben!” Your little voice rang from the tv speakers as your childish grin appeared on the screen. “Watch me do a sumsault!”

Ben’s laughter erupted from the speaker as he focused the camera to show your whole body. “It’s called a somersault, honey. But, I’m watching you, okay?”

“Okay!” You cried before you got down in the grass and did a somersault. “Mr. Ben, where’s Peter?”

The camera changed focus from you to the surrounding areas, in search of little Peter. It finally found him sitting in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers as he picked a bright purple one.

Peter rose from his spot on the ground, the flower in his little grip as he carefully walked around the other flowers and towards you.

The camera then followed Peter on his walk from the patch he sat in to you while you sat in the grass, watching him approach you.

Peter threw his arm before him, pushing the flower into your face.

“Pretty!” you said cheerfully as Peter waddled uncomfortably.

“It’s for you!” Little Peter cried, pushing the flower into your face further.

You plucked the flower from his hand and gave him a confused look as he giggled.

“I’ll get you more!” He shouted before running off as you looked into the camera before the picture cut out.

“Aw!” May squealed. “You two were so cute!”

“I’m pretty sure Y/n was cuter.” Peter stated, smiling over at you.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you released yourself from his hold and changed the tape. Your heart swelled as your mind replayed Peter’s compliment and his gift giving in the video.

You had always has a crush on Peter, even back then when you didn’t really know what a crush was, or how one would show that they had one.

And Peter, well, Peter had a crush on you too. He always had. Even when you hesitated to accept his flowers or the compliments he’d throw your way. Even as children, he was head over heels for his best friend.

“I was such a dork. I know I was literally four, but man, I was a little weirdo.”

You had to admit, Peter with his little flowers was the cutest thing you’d seen in a long time. You thought it was sweet that he had tried to impress your little self with plants.

It was undeniable, from the very start, it seemed as though you and Peter were made for one another.

But, it seemed like all a cruel joke to you since Peter always seemed to be thinking about your friend, Liz. Always a boy with his head in the clouds as he talked to Ned about the girl he thought was beautiful.

“Peter!” You little voice called out for your best friend.

“What, bug?! I’m standing right next to you!”

You and Peter were about six years old, in costumes of your favorite super heroes. You, being Captain America and Peter being Iron Man.

You laughed as you watched the two of you on the tv screen before you glanced over at Peter, who’s arm was up around your shoulders again as he chuckled at the sight of you two.

“Peter, why do you call Y/n bug?” May’ s voice came through the speakers, dripping of kindness as sweet as honey while Ben focused the camera on Peter.

“Be-because Y/n l-likes lady bugs and she likes pretty flowers and s-she is my best friend! A-and she’s pretty like lady bugs and you, Aunt May!” Peter stammered as he spit out the thought out explanation, like it was a secret he didn’t want to tell.

It was then that you made a small squeaking sound and threw your arm’s around Peter’s neck, catching the little boy off guard.

“Thank you, Peter!” You cried out shaking the boy as you hugged him and placed a kiss on his cheek with a quiet smack.

Peter let out an audible gasp before pushing you away from him.

“Bug! That’s gross! You have cooties!” Peter cried out, wiping off the wet spot on his face as May scolded him for being rude.

That’s when the screen went out before it showed you and Peter tucked in Peter’s bed, holding one another as you slept soundly with light snores echoing the room. The screen went black once again.

You looked over at Aunt May, who had fallen asleep on the edge of the couch as you gazed up at Peter, your arm draped over his waist and his arm around yours. You didn’t hesitate as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Peter tensed as he froze for a moment. His cheeks heated up as he bit back a smile before looking at you.

“I would yell that you have cooties, but I’ll refrain from doing so.” He whispered into your ear.

The close proximity of Peter’s warm breath on your cold neck and his words set your skin on fire as you playfully pushed him in an attempt to ease the tension you felt.

“Just go put another tape in.” You muttered.

“As you wish.” Peter replied before he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and got up from next to you.

Peter, in all the time you’d been friends, had never kissed you on the cheek. Nor, had he ever crossed the line between platonic action and romantic difference.

It was an odd and new sensation you felt giddy about.

Yes, you had been kissed on the cheek by other boys, but it hadn’t felt the same as Peter’s kiss had. It was different, new and it made you feel as though you were on cloud nine.

Peter plopped down on the seat next to you as you changed position and laid your legs on him as you leaned back on the arm of the chair. Peter ran his fingers along the lining of your pajama pants as the screen came to life.

“Here, bug!” Little Peter cried, holding a ring pop out to your six year old self.

“A ring pop?! Thank you, Peter!”

You took the ring pop from him and placed it on your ring finger, admiring the blue candy jewel that sat on yellow plastic.

“We’re married now!” Peter hollered before looking at the camera. “That was an epic wedding, right, Uncle Ben?”

“The most epic, Peter.” Ben chuckled. “But Y/n is supposed to know when you’re going to be married. You have to ask if she wants to be.”

Peter then turned to you and smiled before speaking up. “Bug, do you wanna be married to me?”

You titled your head in confusion as you tugged at your “Save Ferris” t shirt.

“What does that mean, Peter?”

“What does what mean? Married?”

“Yeah!”

Peter looked at the camera, or the man behind the camera in an unsure manner before he let his eyes gaze back at you.

“Well, i-it it means th-that we share out candy and then w-we hold hands when it’s c-cold!”

“Then, I wanna be married!” You announced before you threw your arms around him and hugged him tight.

The camera went out before it unleashed a picture of you and Peter in your playhouse.

“What are you guys doing?” It was May behind the camera now as she bent down and watched you two play.

“We’re playing house!” You announced, your ring pop no longer had a jewel on it, but a bit of a slobbering mess.

“Uh huh!” Peter agreed. “Bug is the mommy and I’m the daddy.”

“And these are our babies.” You held up two of your dolls. “Nikin and Luke!”

“It’s Anakin, bug.” Peter corrected. “I named them, Aunt May.”

“Yeah, Ms. May, Peter named them after the guys in Star Wars.”

“It was better than the names bug wanted.” Peter added.

“What did you want to name them, sweetie?” May asked you.

“Ferris and Ducky! Like those people in the movies my mom and I watch.” You explained. “But, I let Peter name the babies cause I like him. But it’s a secret Ms. May, so shh.”

You pressed a finger to your lips as you shushed May.

“I can hear you, bug.” Peter said, not looking up from the play kitchen.

“No you can’t!” You snapped. “Cause I didn’t say anything!”

Then the screen went out and the tape was over.

You took a glance at the clock and then at Peter before you rose from your seat.

“We should probably go to bed. It’s late.” You stated as you turned on your heel and started to walk to Peter’s room.

“I’ll meet you in the room. I’ve got to get Aunt May to bed.”

You signed as you closed the door behind you and leaned up against it. Your mind was going crazy with all the memories of you and Peter and all the feelings you’ve felt for him being recorded in home videos.

It wasn’t until now that you realized Peter has feelings for you when you were kids, but there was no way he liked you now. Every time Peter’s eyes started to wander the lunch room, they weren’t looking for you, they were looking at your friend, Liz.

You took a seat on the bed as Peter walked in, his camera in hand.

“What’s with the camera?” You asked.

“I thought we could add some new memories to the home movies.”

“So you want to video tape me going to bed?” You asked, the camera capturing the confused look on your face.

“No, there was something else I wanted to tape.” Peter said. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“What? Are you messing with me?”

“Um, no? Bug, I love you. I always have. I just want you to know that and I want you to be my girlfriend because you’ve always been there for me from the start.”

“Oh, Peter. Of course I’ll go out with you.” You stated as Peter turned the camera tho face him.

You got up and stood before him as he positioned the camera to face the two of you. You looked into the lens. “You probably don’t want to see this.” You said before covering the lens with your hand and kissing Peter with as much passion as he had when he picked that people flower so long ago.

Hello friends I did not die! I was in meetings all day and I want to share with you what happened. I, an adult VP of a company, was sitting in a conference room with a major client and 5 other adults. My boss played a video on our Vimeo account for the client. It ended. But then…

I had forgotten that in 2015, I uploaded a bunch of my 1D Ottawa videos to the company account and put them on private links so no one could find them.

Well. The video that came on in the conference room on a 60 inch TV with built in speakers in the ceiling was Niall speaking and me, screaming over and over “Niall Niall Niall!!” And everyone stopped and stared. And I tried to slither under the table and die. But they wouldn’t let me. And made fun of me ruthlessly. And then we moved on. But I will never live it down.

And that’s how being an adult One Direction fan sometimes doesn’t pay off.

Tiny dancer Prologue

Sore toes. Aching shoulders. Too tight migraines.

Betty Cooper wouldn’t give any of it up, not for the world, they only meant she was doing it right. She was being the best ballerina that she could be, and she was, The best that is.

Juliard was one of the most prestigious dance schools in the world, it was nearly impossible to gain acceptance, especially when you come from a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. But that didn’t stop Betty Cooper, she was talented and strong and exceptionally determined, years and years of training and a ridiculous amount of natural talent landed her almost a full scholarship to the school of her dreams. She was in her second year now and she was at the top of her class, being rewarded solo after solo for effortless skill and hard work.

She was a shoe in for a spot on the Rockettes when she graduated thanks to her ridiculously long legs and she was already being scouted by broadway producers. Things were going flawlessly for the beautiful blonde and she could never be more grateful, but…. she was tired. She wanted to have fun, find love like her best friend and roommate, Veronica Lodge, had. She wanted to eat a hamburger instead of carrot sticks and grilled chicken. She wanted to live.

Stretching her legs and tying her incredibly worn in pointe shoes, Betty rolled her shoulders, there was no time for fun and her life was Ballet, she loved ballet she shouldn’t be thinking of frivolous things like boys and…burgers. Next week was another showcase and she was being featured in six numbers, practice was important, and anyway tonight she promised Cheryl and Veronica that she would go out to the newest night club opening right down the road. Might as well get in as much rehearsal as she could.
*****

Jughead groaned, slamming his head into the the too flat pillow on his bed. Archie’s girlfriend was over and she always made his best friend watch some ridiculous reality television show that was currently blaring through the television speakers in their tiny dorm room. The dark haired boy had pictures to edit and he couldn’t focus on anything when some botoxed housewife was throwing tables in the other room. Trudging out of the safety of his own bedroom, Jughead entered the living room and moved to stand in front of the television blocking the couples view.

“Good evening Jughead, what a wonderful day today is.” The raven haired princess Named Veronica Lodge, stared happily from her space next to Archie, both the teens buried into the couch.

“Turn it down or turn it off. I’ve got work to do, now that I mention it, you’ve got work to do to Archie, midterms..?”

Jugheads redheaded roommate rolled his eyes
“I’ll play a couple songs, write a few notes, I’ll be good as gold”

Veronica giggled from his side and placed an obnoxious kiss to his cheeks. The shrill sound of a pop song broke all three teens out of their intense stare battle, Jughead watched Veronica pull her phone out of her pocket and stick her tongue out at Jugheads disgusted face at her choice of ringtone.

“Hey Betts….. oh yeah totally… you’re still rehearsing… what do you mean another hour? You’ve been rehearsing since six this morning…. yes I know you have solos….. come on, take a break…..fine but you’re missing out, you know how much fun you had last night with me and Cher…..fine…. okay I love you….muah.”

Veronica hung up the phone and pouted
“Betty just cancelled on going out tonight, I guess they asked her to fill in tomorrow night because one of the soloists in the upperclassmen showcase got sick, she invited me and Archie to come.” Suddenly something flickered in Veronica’s eyes as she stared wickedly at Jughead
“I think I just figured out how to make you pay up on that bet.”

A few weeks ago Jughead had bet Veronica anything she wanted if she could stay away from Archie a full week, never one to lose anything, Veronica had won and was now cashing in

“What.. oh no..” Jugheads eyes went wide

“Oh yes. You are coming to the recital tommorow. You promised.”

And she was right, Jughead never broke a promise, glaring at a cracked up Archie and smug Veronica, he slammed the door to his room and threw himself back on his bed.

What the hell was he gonna do at some stupid dance recital?

Me: Hey can we watch a movie tonight

Dad: HELL YEAH!! AND WE’LL WATCH IT IN 4K ON OUR BRAND NEW TV ;)))))))))))

Me: Lol yeah I wish

Me:

Me: Wait

anonymous asked:

We can't ask people to leave the store when we're closing. That's fine. If you've come in exactly on close to grab a cable and are in and out within about 1 minute, fine. If you come in five minutes before close, hang around while we turn off all the TVs, laptops, speakers etc. and then when we ask if you're alright ten minutes after we're closed, say, "I'm just looking thanks" you can die. Go and "just look" somewhere that's still open, where the staff are still getting paid to be there.

That’s when I turn off all the lights in the store and shine a flashlight on him “to help him shop” until he gets so uncomfortable he leaves.

-Rodney

Under the cut, you’ll find #100 gifs of the 27 year old American Miss Alaska USA 2017 Alyssa London, who is of Tlingit, Czech, and Norwegian ethnicity, as requested by Anonymous. These gifs are all 250x140 sized, textless, and roleplayable. All of these gifs had to be made by me (Natalie) so please abide by the gif pack rules you can find on my own rph here. Please like/reblog if you found this helpful.

TW: If you consider bikinis to be NSFW, there are four (4) gifs at the end where she is in one.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

8/10

8: “You’re seriously like a man-child”

10: “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids”

The house is a mess when you walk through the front door, action figures scattered across the floor and the TV still playing despite no one watching it. You head over to the living room first, turning off the Star Wars cartoon that had been blaring through the television speaker. “Shawn? I’m home,” you call but get no response. Walking slowly, you make your way up the stairs where the mess is no better. “Hello?” you still get no answer from your husband or your four year old, Mason.

When you reach your son’s room however, you see it. Two bumps, one significantly smaller than the other, hiding underneath the iron man blanket on the bed. “Wow I wonder where my family went,” you say loudly which gets a quiet shriek of excitement from your child and a ‘shh’ from Shawn. “I guess I’ll just leave then,” you tease, walking in place to mimic the sound of retreating footsteps. “Surprise!” both of them yell as they throw back the cover, huge smiles on their faces. “You guys were there the whole time? I had no idea,” you say excitedly to Mason, picking him up while Shawn puts the blanket back nicely. He walks over to you after and gives you a quick kiss.

“How was work?” he asks while you’re setting down your toddler who runs off to do something else. “It was okay, how was home?” you already have an idea of how it was, eyeing the mess of toys scattered across the floor. “It was really fun actually. We built some cool lego stuff, watched a couple movies, oh and we played with those little soldier guys he loves,” his eyes light up as he explains this to you and you want to laugh but it’s also pretty cute. “You’re seriously like a man-child, I swear you sound more excited than him,” you tease, bending down to pick up some of the stray legos before someone steps on one. He doesn’t say anything so you look up to find him pouting at your teasing words and you actually do laugh this time. 

“Don’t worry babe it’s cute,” you stand, placing your palm on his cheek. “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids,” you say, patting his cheek lightly and winking before continuing your quest to clean up the house. “The ladies huh?” you hear his smug voice behind you while he helps you pick up the various toys. “Oh yeah definitely, you’ll sweep all the other moms off their feet,” you play along, looking over your shoulder to find him smiling at you. “Think there’s only one I want to sweep off her feet,” he says with a mischievous look in his eye as he walks towards you. 

You know what he’s planning and try to run but he’s too fast, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and lifting you up. You squeal as he spins you a couple times, careful not to step on any of the action figures. You’re both laughing, only stopping when you hear your son call you. “Mommy, I’m hungry,” his tiny voice comes from downstairs and Shawn sets you down. You turn to face him, standing on your toes to rub your nose against his. “Duty calls,” you say quietly before giving him a quick kiss and making your way to the kitchen to get dinner ready.

(Scroll down for English)

“Mình nhớ khi đó da ảnh siêu trắng, môi thì cong cong hồng hồng, người thì thơm nữa, con trai thời đó chỉ cần có vậy là thành hotboy rồi. Lần đó đám bọn mình làm 1 quầy bán hoa trước trường dịp 20-11 hay 20-10 gì đó, chỉ nhớ là trời lành lạnh, mưa lất phất. Ảnh qua phụ lặt vặt, dọn dẹp và treo bong bóng. Bạn có biết cái khoảng hở từ giữa rốn xuống cạp quần mỗi khi ai đó với tay lên cao, không quá lộ liễu nhưng đủ cho thấy thiên đường là gì không? Đúng rồi đó.

Đang ngắm thì á một tiếng, ngón tay ảnh bị gai đâm chảy máu, mình chạy lại xem có sao không thì ảnh rút mạnh tay ra, đi tới đứa bạn của mình rồi cả 2 xuýt xoa. Mình lấy xe đạp đi về luôn.

Ngày xưa làm gì có dàn âm thanh stereo hay tai nghe bluetooth này nọ, nghe nhạc vcd hay cd gì thì cũng nghe bằng loa TV thôi. Mà mỗi lần nghe như vậy thì TV phải bấm qua chế độ video màn hình xanh lè rất nhứt mắt. Mình nhớ là mình mặc bộ đồ đồng phục ướt mưa, nằm xuống sàn nghe nhạc, cái TV thì xanh tràn căn phòng, xanh luôn lên mình.

Tới lúc đó mình mới khóc.”

Translated by @Huyen Anh

“I remembered his rather pale complexion, his pink curvy lips and his pleasant fragance - he had all that it took to be a "hotboy” back then. We were setting up a flower stall at school for November 20th, October 20th or something of the sort (Vietnamese Teachers’ Day and Women’s Day respectively - translator’s note). I only remembered the cool freshness in the breeze and a gentle drizzle of rain. He was helping us out with the little chores like cleaning up and hanging some balloons. Do you know that gap between the belly button and the waist line which appears whenever someone tries to reach up, not too revealing but enough to show you a fallen piece of heaven? Yep that was it.

I was enjoying the view when “Ow!”, his finger was punctured. I ran up to him to check if he was fine only to have him forcefully free himself from my grasp and instead went to my friend where they both nursed the wound. I just grabbed my bike and went home.

Back in the days, there was no such thing as stereo, headphones nor bluetooth. The only way to listen to music was via TV speakers. With no video feed, the CRT shows a blue screen that would sting my eyes. I remembered lying down with my soaking wet uniform, listening to music, the blue of the screen engulfed the room and I with it.

And it was only then that I cried.”

Lucky Thirteen

“Dean! Sam! Come ooooooon!”

“What is she going on about now?” grumbles Dean, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks at the clock, then groans. “Dammit Charlie, it’s not even noon! On a Sunday!” He pulls the sheet back over his head.

Footsteps pounding on the stairs and then a fist banging on the door let him know that his little sister isn’t giving up easily. “Come on, Dean!”  Her footsteps fade a bit as she stomps down the hallway to Sam’s room, then bangs on his door and yells again, “You too, Sam! Get downstairs! Federer won! It’s almost time!”

Dean is wondering what language his little sister is speaking when his door opens and her freckled face peeks through the opening. Before she can speak he growls, “Twelve year olds should be banished from existence, Charlie.”

She giggles. “You can’t get me down, big brother. It’s almost time! Come on!” Before he can ask what on earth she’s talking about she bounces from the room and down the stairs.

He’s about to settle back into his bed when his phone chirps. A text from Cas.

Did Charlie wake you up yet?

He quickly responds.

How did you know?

*chirp*

Wimbledon finished earlier than expected. The announcement of the thirteenth Doctor is imminent.

Dean can’t help but laugh. That’s what I get for having a nerd kid sister. He grins. And a nerd boyfriend. He sends:

Come over? You can help keep Charlie calm while she waits. Or I can keep both of you calm. ;)

*chirp*

Give me ten minutes.–


Thirteen minutes later the doorbell rings. Dean pushes himself away from the table and his just finished bowl of cereal. Sam look at him quizzically. “Cas,” Dean says. “He’s as crazy as Charlie. They can nerd out together.”

Sam nods dismissively. “I’ve never been able to figure out why the two of you are such good friends.” Sam says. “You’re such a jock. He’s such a…well, a nerd, like you said. He’s really much more like Charlie than like you.”

Dean is thankful he’s on his way out of the room so Sam can’t see his blush. He still hasn’t told Sam that he and Cas have been more than friends for about six months now. Sam is usually too observant for comfort, but he’s been wrapped up in his own stuff–AP classes, playing the lead in Macbeth, and now a summer class at the local junior college–and Dean doesn’t know if he’s grateful or tired of keeping secrets.

His confusion about Sam disappears when he sees the blue eyed boy smiling at him on his front porch. “Dean,” Cas says. Dean smiles and chances a kiss. Cas pulls away after only a moment, and Dean is puzzled, then laughs as realization hits. “You’re anxious to find out about the new Doctor, aren’t you.” It’s not a question.

Cas smiles. “Busted. But you can kiss me later, I promise.”

Dean grins. “I’ll hold you to that…”


In the family room Sam sits at the coffee table surrounded by textbooks. “Sam. Live a little. It’s Sunday,” says Dean.

Sam grunts. “Research. Ten page paper. Due Friday.”

“Ouch,” says Cas. “Didn’t you think of taking a break over the summer?”

“I’m trying to graduate early,” Sam says absently, completely focused on his book.

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” grumbles Dean. “Little brother graduating the same time as me…”

“Um, helloooooo,” interjects Charlie, hands on her hips. “I think we’re missing the big picture here. Biggest announcement of the year? New Doctor? Lucky thirteen?”

Dean reaches out to ruffle her already wild red hair, but she ducks away from his hand. “What are we all doing here anyway? Are we going to gather around your laptop and watch you click on ‘refresh’? It’s not like we can tune in to BBC One.”

Charlie makes a very unladylike noise. “Please. Piece of cake. Or,” she grins, looking at Dean, “maybe a piece of pie.” She attaches a few cables from her laptop to the tv, tap-tap-taps at the keyboard for about ten seconds, then shouts, “Yahtzee!” Sure enough, English accents are suddenly coming through the tv speakers, and Roger Federer’s smiling face fills the screen.

Dean looks at Charlie, eyes wide. “You are the scariest twelve year old I’ve ever seen.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she quips.

Cas, Dean, and Charlie settle onto the couch, but Charlie only sits for a few seconds before she jumps up and starts to pace. She nibbles on a thumbnail, tugs at her hair, and bounces on the balls of her feet, all while striding back and forth across the room. She looks at Cas, sitting calmly, and screeches, “How can you just sit there?!”

Cas grins and his eyes glint with mischief. “I was just like you when they announced Capaldi four years ago. When fourteen comes along someone will be asking you how you can be so calm.”

“I doubt that,” she grumbles. “And why does Capaldi have to go anyway? I love his gruff Scottish accent and his ‘attack eyebrows’!”

“He doesn’t do hugs, he says. Except when he does,” adds Sam.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t speak geek?” Dean asks.

Doctor Who is all about change,” Cas says, pointedly ignoring Dean and answering Charlie instead. “The companions change, the Doctor regenerates, even the TARDIS gets redecorated. But the Doctor’s heart and hope endure. He is always a madman in a box, and he always saves the day.”

Charlie freezes, mouth agape, then flings herself at Cas, wiping away tears. “Thank you, Castiel,” she blubbers into his shoulder. Dean meets Cas’s eyes over the top of Charlie’s head. “Thank you,” he mouths. Cas smiles.

Sam clears his throat. “I hate to break up this little, uh, whatever this is, but I think something is happening,” he says.

Charlie immediately focuses all her attention on the scene unfolding on the tv, lush and green. A hooded figure walking through the woods. A hand. A key. The sound of the TARDIS. The hood is pushed back…

Charlie screams.

“A girl! A girl! The Doctor is A GIRL!!!!” She leaps and dances through the room, high-fives Cas then pumps her fist in the air then climbs onto the coffee table–unmindful of Sam’s schoolwork–just to turn and dive at Dean, tackling him in a tangle of arms and legs and red hair. He yelps and she giggles and jumps up to run and dance some more. “The Doctor is a GIRL!” she shouts again. She runs back to Dean, kisses him on the cheek, and says, “Finally!

“So you’re happy, then?” asks Dean with a straight face.

Charlie fake punches him in the shoulder. “Duh. Twelve dudes. Well, thirteen, really, with the War Doctor. Over fifty years. It’s about time!”

“I think this is going to be great,” says Cas with a smile.

“Ugh, I can’t believe we have to wait until Christmas to actually see her in action! That’s over six months!” moans Charlie.

Dean stands up. “That’s our cue, Cas. Let’s get out of here before she ropes us into making a countdown calendar.”

As they climb the stairs they hear Charlie yell, “You know you can’t get out of watching it with me, big brother!”

Dean laughs. He knows. Charlie always gets what she wants.


“It’s nice to be alone,” Cas says softly, twining his fingers with Dean’s.

Dean kisses him softly. “Yeah,” he says.

They sit on the floor against Dean’s bed, stretching their legs into the long rectangle of sunlight splashed across the floor.

“Are you ever going to tell Sam about us?”

Dean groans. He wants to talk about this now?

“It’s not–I’m not ashamed or anything, you know that. I mean, Charlie knows. Mom and Dad know. Sam’s just…he gives me a hard time about everything. And now he’s taking all these extra classes, so we’re both going to be seniors in the fall…” Dean trails off, not really sure where he was going with the thought anyway. He just knows that he wants Sammy to be okay with this.

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. “I know. I mean, I understand. It’ll work itself out eventually. I just don’t like sneaking around when I’m here, you know?”

Dean nods.

“Oh, Michael says hi, by the way. He called last night. He asked if you’re starting on the team this fall; he’s going to be in town for a few weeks and wants to come see you play.”

Dean grins. He plays forward on their school’s soccer team. “Hell yeah I’m starting. I’ve been practically killing myself all summer to get ready for the season.

Cas runs a hand up Dean’s arm. “Mmm. I can see that,” he practically purrs.

Dean groans and pulls Cas onto his lap. He falls into those blue eyes as their lips crush together, both of them hungry for the other.

Cas’s fingers are twisted in Dean’s hair when the door opens and they hear, “Can you two do something with Charlie? She’s bouncing around like a pinball, and I re–” Sam comes to sudden stop, mouth hanging open, when he sees the two boys attached at the lips.

“Oh,” says Sam, after an awkward pause. “Well. That explains a lot. You two make a lot more sense as boyfriends. This been going on long?”

Dean is too relieved by Sam’s easy acceptance to answer. Cas says, “A little over six months. We’re sorry we kept it from you. You had so much going on, with school and the play and all, we didn’t want to cause you any distress.”

Sam snorts. “You really think this,” he gestures at them, “is distressing? You should see Charlie right now. I’m concerned for my safety for the next six months. And for my school work. Seriously. Do you think maybe you two could take her out for ice cream or something? Or, I don’t know, take her to the park and make her run outside? I’m never going to get my paper written at this rate.”

“She’s not a puppy, Sammy,” says Dean, laughing.

“Don’t call me Sammy,” says Sam automatically.

“I’m always going to call you Sammy,” says Dean.

“I know,” sighs Sam.

Dean pulls Sam into a tight hug. “Thanks, Sammy…”

When they’re done, Cas puts his arm around Dean. “We’ll be down in a minute, Sam. Tell Charlie we’ll take her to the mall to see if we can find her a sonic screwdriver.”

Sam grins as he turns to walk down the stairs. “Are you trying to become her favorite brother?” he calls over his shoulder, laughing.

When Sam is gone Cas turns to Dean. “Feel better?”

Dean nods. “I guess we should thank Charlie. And maybe the Doctor too.” He smiles, then adds, “I guess thirteen really is lucky after all.”

Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s lips. He can’t argue with that.



This is kind of a gift for @starsinursa, who posted this a few days ago. It sort of got mixed up with a high school au I had in my head, I hope you don’t mind!

anonymous asked:

Could you do 29 (‘When was the last time you slept?!?’) for Malvie? Perhaps Evie is being stressed about the number of orders she has to complete, revising for a exams, or both simultaneously? Or perhaps it could be worked into a chapter from I'm just a teenage dirtbag?' Perhaps Mal hasn't been sleeping because she's too caught up in helping Evie sleep, worrying that she isn't enough to protect her, dealing with her own Isle trauma kind of thing? Either way, I adore your works! Thank you!

This one ties into my fic ‘we’re so close yet so far apart’ :)

TW: Panic attacks and discussion of questionable consent.

*

They diagnosis Evie with PTSD, and her parents quickly put her in therapy. At first, it works. She is able to sleep a little better, and the anxiety medication they put her on is a blessing but then the nightmares start up. Evie lays in bed and stares up at the ceiling, she counts the plastic stars that Ben put up their first year; she makes wishes on them, she wishes that this ache inside of her would go away. But it doesn’t, it just gets worse and she pretends that it isn’t real. She pretends that she’s had a good night’s sleep in a week, and she pretends like the moment her eyes close she doesn’t think of is the Isle.


The worst though are the nights when she remembers the feeling of being under Uma’s strong influence. She remembers trying so hard to fight it, trying to hang onto her memories of Mal; she even remembers how it hadn’t worked at first and how angry Uma had gotten. The worst part is remembering how rough Uma had been with her when she kissed her, how she pulled away and looked at Mal who looked so betrayed and disgusted. That’s what haunts her to the most, the way her body and love was used as a way to inflict revenge on Mal.


Audrey tries as hard as she can to comfort her, and sometimes she wordlessly crawls into Evie’s bed at night and falls asleep beside her. Evie appreciates it, but all she wants is Mal. When she is with her girlfriend, Evie feels safer; she knows that Mal will never let another thing happen to her, she knows she’ll always be cared for with Mal beside her. On the same hand, Evie doesn’t want to torture her girlfriend with anymore guilt. She knows how hard Mal is still struggling with it all, and she refuses to add to that.


“Evie?”


Evie startles as she blinks up at Ben, “Hm?”


“You okay?” Ben asks in a low voice.


“I’m fine.” Evie nods as she forces a strained smile onto her face. “My meds have just been making me a little tired since they upped the dosage.”


Ben studies her for a moment before his face softens ever so slightly, “You’re lying.”


“I don’t want to talk about this.” Evie snaps as she looks down at the book in her lap, a book she doesn’t even remember grabbing. “Just leave it alone, Ben. Please.”


“I will. For now.” Ben sighs as he makes his way to the doors of the study and pauses to glance back at Evie. “Mal is worried about you. Everyone is.”


Evie ignores him. Or maybe she doesn’t hear him at all, Ben really can’t tell. But he can see from his sister’s expression that she’s a million miles away. With a frown of defeat he leaves, but instead of returning to his office he simply closes the door and sinks down against the wood. On the other side of the door, Evie bites her lip until it bleeds and closes her eyes to fight the images playing in her head; yet she can’t escape them, she never will.


-


“Tie her up.”


“You don’t have to do this.”


“Oh, but I do.”


Evie thrashes helplessly in her bed as the nightmare plagues her. She can feel the fingers curling around her bicep and squeezing until she is sure there will be a hand shaped bruise left in his wake. The smell of salt and dead fish is potent as she is tossed against a pole and her head snaps hard against the wood. And then hands are all over her; they pull at her, tighten a rope around her, and brush over her cheek while she stares into faceless monsters. As soon as she hears a cackle she knows what is coming, a scream rips from her throat as they pull the ropes around her wrist tight enough to dig into her skin.


“Evie! Evie, darling, wake up!”


Evie whimpers as she shudders in a breath and feels familiar arms wrap around her, “Mommy?”


“It’s me, sweetheart. I’m here.” Belle soothes as she rests a hand against Evie’s head and guides her to rest on her shoulder. “A bed maid heard you screaming from down the hall, she ran to get me as soon as she realized you weren’t stopping.”


“I-It was just a dream?” Evie shudders out.


“It was just a dream, baby. You’re safe.” Belle assures as she holds Evie to her. “Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”


Evie sniffles and laughs, “Really?”


“I used to sing this song to you and Ben when you’d have nightmares, I’m not stopping now.” Belle teases with a small smile. “Just a little change, small to say that least. Both a little scared, neither of them prepared. Beauty and the beast.”


“I don’t want to close my eyes…” Evie admits.


Belle frowns, “Why?”


“I don’t want to see them.” Evie replies as she winds her arms around Belle’s waist. “Mommy, will you please stay with me?”


“Of course, Evie.” Belle assures her as she scoots back on the bed and carefully pulls Evie into her. “I won’t leave you, okay?”


“Pinky promise?”


Belle smiles as she looks down at the teen in her arms, and for a moment she is reminded of Evie with chubby cheeks and unruly curls. She looks down at the terrified girl in her arms and all she sees is that little girl she met in the clinic. Her eyes burn with tears, but she is quick to blink them away as she tightens her grasp on Evie and ducks her head to press a kiss to silky blue hair.


“Pinky promise.”


-


Evie stops going to therapy, she doesn’t see a point anymore. All her doctor does is hum and scribble things down on a pad of paper, and he doesn’t understand. He tells her that she has to let time heal her wounds, but how is time supposed to heal wounds that never stop bleeding? So, she takes to ditching her sessions and plastering on fake smiles as she tries to move on with her life. It works for a while, but she knows people are catching on; she’s always irritated, she snaps at everyone but Mal and Ben, and she pretty much takes herself out of spending time with her friends.


“This will be good for you.”


Evie glares towards Audrey, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Okay.” Audrey shrugs.


“I have homework. I don’t need to be attending a movie night.” Evie grumbles as Audrey taps a little beat against Jane’s dorm door. “I’m going to go back to our dorm and…”


“There you are.”


Evie gasps and turns with fear filled eyes until she sees that it’s only Mal, “Hi.”


“Hi.” Mal replies in a slow tone.


“It’s about time you guys got here,” Jay greets as he opens the door and ushers them in. “You’ve missed all the fun. Dude ate all of the gummies, Carlos has made himself into a blanket burrito, Lonnie and Hayden won’t stop making out, and Chad is arguing with Jane over what movie to watch.”


Mal takes Evie’s hand as they walk into the dorm room, “I thought we agreed on a horror.”


“Chad wants a romantic comedy.” Jay sighs with a roll of his eyes.


Eventually, everything is sorted out and the group spreads themselves all over Jane’s large dorm room while a suspenseful soundtrack plays. Evie is tucked into the corner of the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her kneecap as she tries to pretend she’s the least bit interested. She hasn’t ever really been fond of scary movies, especially right now. She can already feel the telltale signs of a panic attack building as she looks around the darkened room and tries to block out the screaming pouring from the TV speakers.


She tries to stay, she does, but after yet another scream she can’t help but press her hands over her ears. Mal is the first to notice her discomfort and as soon as Evie sees a hand reaching for her she is quick to jump up from the couch. All of her friends are suddenly replaced with smirking pirates and she presses a hand to her stomach as it twists painfully. Just as she turns to run, she gasps as she crashes into a broad chest and feels fingers curl slowly around her wrists.


“Don’t touch me!”


The entire room goes quiet as Evie sinks away from Jay, and her hand immediately goes to her wrist as she rubs the scars. Everything around her blurs together and her knees feel weak, and she barely feels it when they make contact with the hardwood floor of the dorm room. Evie can’t breathe, she feels like she’s back on the Isle. Every breath she takes, she can taste the stale salt in the air and she can smell the hint of fish that always seemed to linger on the pirates that harassed her. A sob breaks free as she curls her hands to her chest and tries to pull herself back to reality.


“E?”


Mal is there. Evie can hear her voice, and it calms her for only a moment. But as quick as it comes, it goes. Mal is on the boat, Mal is in danger. Her hands reach out and she grabs onto stiff leather before she pulls herself closer until she replace the smell of salt with the familiar scent of strawberries. The second arms curl around her, Evie settles. She can feel her breath slowing as she tucks herself under Mal’s chin and matches her own breaths with the way Mal’s chest moves beneath her.


“You’re okay. You’re okay.”


As Mal continues to repeat the words, Evie allows them to lull her to sleep.


-


The first thing she feels when she wakes up is the soft brush of lips against her forehead. Normally, she would bask in it but it’s a touch that she hasn’t consented to so she instead pulls away with a hiss. She hesitantly opens her eyes and frowns as she sees Mal lying beside, and she glances around to see the splashes of blue and pink and she knows she’s back in her dorm room. With a whimper, Evie reaches for Mal and tugs her close until arms are curled so tightly around her that it aches.


“How did I get here?” Evie rasps.


Mal runs her fingers along the dips of her spine as she sighs, “Jay carried you back. You’ve been asleep since last night, and it’s already two in the afternoon. Fairy Godmother excused us from classes, Ben told her that we somehow are both sick at the same time.”


“Oh.”


“Evie,” Mal begins as she pulls back so she can lock their gazes, and Evie flinches at the concern. “When is the last time that you slept?”


“I just did…”


“You know what I mean, princess.” Mal sighs.


Evie swallows hard as she begins to play with the soft material of Mal’s t-shirt, “Truth? I don’t really know. I sleep in little splurts, I try to sleep a lot during the day.”


“What’s going on with you, E?” Mal demands as she furrows her brow and pauses her fingers. “You’re not sleeping, you’re distant, and I have never seen you react to Jay in a negative way.”


“I’ve…my anxiety is really bad.” Evie admits as she ducks her head. “I thought it was getting better, but then the nightmares started getting more intense. I just can’t get over what happened, Mal. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I’m so sorry.”


“Why are you apologizing?” Mal scoffs.


“I…I kissed her.” Evie whispers.


“Evie, don’t ever apologize for what happened that night. You were…you didn’t want any of that and I know that.” Mal assures her as she runs a thumb over the dimple of her chin. “I’m the one who should be sorry, it happened because of me.”


“I’m falling apart, Mal.” Evie whimpers.


“And that’s why you have me. That’s why you have your parents and Ben.” Mal points out. “We’re here so you don’t have to fall apart, we’re here to hold you together.”


“I just don’t know how to get over it.” Evie murmurs after a moment. “I realize that I was under the influence of Uma’s spell, but…I remember what happened. I remember all the things I said to you. I remember how she touched me, how she kissed me, how she held me.”


Mal shifts herself so she can cup Evie’s face as her girlfriend’s chest begins to heave, “Shh. You’re okay. You’re here, you’re with me. You will never have to deal with Uma again, okay?”


“I want her out of my head.” Evie chokes out as she looks up at Mal with a desperate gaze. “Pl-Please get her out of my head.”


“Are you suggesting I…?” Mal frowns.


“Anything, Mal. Just…get her out of my head.” Evie begs as she clenches her jaw. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can barely think straight.”


Mal brushes a thumb over Evie’s lips, “I’m not going to spell you.”


“Please, Mal!”


“No.” Mal snaps as her eyes flash, and Evie ducks back in surprise. “I won’t do that to you, it isn’t right. I know you want to forget, but casting a spell on you isn’t the way to do it.”


Evie sniffles, “Then how?”


“I don’t know, princess,” Mal confesses with a saddened frown. “But we’ll figure this out. You and me and the space between, remember?”


“You and me.” Evie nods.


“You need to sleep.” Mal notes as she looks her over.


“I’m fine.” Evie protests.


“You’re scared, but I’m here. If you even begin to make a single face in your sleep then I’ll wake you up. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Mal grins as she pushes Evie back down and slides behind her. “I am right beside you, okay?”


Evie pulls Mal’s arm around her waist and sniffles softly, “Will you sing to me?”


“Sure, princess. But don’t tell anyone because I’m rotten to the core and I don’t want anyone forgetting that.” Mal huffs, and and she smiles as Evie gives a small giggle.


“Okay.”


“A million thoughts in my head, should’ve let my heart keep listening. Cause up till now, I’ve walked the line. Nothing lost, but something missing. I can’t decide what’s wrong, what’s right. Which way should I go?”


Evie falls asleep to Mal’s soft voice, and for the first time in awhile she thinks that maybe she can do this. Maybe she can get better. Maybe there’s a way to fight her inner demons. So long as she has her girlfriend and the people she loves, she thinks there’s a way to move past this.