when i move a certain way

I guess what I’m trying to say is,
If I never see you again,
I hope you at least think of me from time to time
When that song comes on in the car,
Or the sun breaks through the windows a certain way
I hope it makes you smile,
And somewhere,
I hope you are grateful too
—  “Untitled” by Meredith Grace @blatantwritings
Rocknaldo Theory/Rant

Did anyone notice that this episode was literally directed at the fandom?
“Who are you to tell anyone how to be a Crystal Gem? You’re just a guy with a blog!" 



The way Ronaldo was criticizing everything, about Connie and Steven not being "crystal gem” enough, is kind of what the fandom does, criticizing every little thing about the characters and the way the plot is developing.


 Steven says “Bloodstone” is being selfish and just wanting things to happen to please himself. 

 I really felt like Steven was talking to us as the fandom too when he said “ This is my life! Do you even care about that?” 

The fandom kind of demands certain things, like the pairings that are "acceptable” The way the fandom freaked over Zuke drawing a “Lapidot” Picture… The way people analyze and over analyze every aspect of the show, getting angry when episodes are “filler” and demanding the plot move forward.

I think what Steven and the crewniverse were trying to say in this episode was summed up well.

 The show is about him, not us. It’s about Rebecca Sugars vision, not about what we think is right or wrong.

This fandom should be about love and acceptance.

That’s what it’s all about, guys. That’s what drew us all to this show in the first place.

Believe in Steven

thexenobiologist  asked:

Your recent post about touch tanks reminded me of something I've always wondered: why do the sharks and rays in them actively seek out contact? They don't just seem to coincidentally bump into hands or only go after food, so what makes them want to get touched?

For years, I’ve thought, if I had a research grant, this would be what I would study. The behavior of sharks and rays in touchpools. 

Where I was proctoring them, we were taught we could never say that the sharks and rays ‘liked’ the interaction. All the species in the tank were eusocial species by nature - cownose rays live in large schools, and the smaller reef sharks are often found in fairly high concentrations in the wild and go as far as to sleep in piles in the mangrove roots. So, the messaging we were taught was that the rays and sharks didn’t find soft contact with human hands inherently negative because they were used to casual social contact from conspecifics (in contrast to like, solitary pelagic sharks who only get touched by food, mates, or things trying to eat them). As far as messaging went, I liked that way of doing it, because it wasn’t anthropomorphic and it allowed us to do some education about the natural behaviors of our animals while we explained. 

Except for that part where, as a behaviorist who ended up spending a lot of time at that touch tank (it was the only one I could work for a period of time when I had an injury I couldn’t get wet) that really obviously wasn’t the whole story. I started noticing the same animals coming to the front repeatedly, and slowing down and rising up under certain hands (generally still, flat, calm, mid-way down the water) while they’d dive deeper under others (generally children’s hands, ones moving a lot, or those that were hovering just out of the water). I watched rays rostrum-bump hands that they’d slowed down under but that hadn’t reached down to pet them, and I watched other rays specifically circle back to a couple of hands multiple times - sometimes to the point of circling back as soon as they were out of reach. There was obviously something going on in terms of preferences and decision making with the fish and the hands they chose to interact with, but no amount of casual observation and anecdotes does a scientifically valid hypothesis make. 

Point is, I don’t think we know. I personally believe that in really well designed tanks like the one I worked, where they had a huge amount of non-touch area and depth and current and natural habitat to spend time in, that there was definitely some preference for interaction with hands that behaved a certain type of way. I can’t tell you why and I’ll probably never have the money/time to take over an entire touch tank and quantify that hypothesis, though. 

I went on two dates recently. 

I had a party, a giant board game night in my studio, and I invited about 10 people, then more and more verbally because it was my first week back from the west coast and I missed these people. 

My friend brought a friend of his. Tall, perfectly square jaw, did I mention tall, dark and handsome. Very tall, and handsome. I told him he looked like a movie star from the 1950s. He texted me the next day, after getting my business card the previous night in hopes of getting his band to play one of my shows. 

We texted a bit. He was inquisitive, curious and open, quick on his feet with my sarcasm. I was hesitant, but I agreed to the date, even altering it to include the small theater down the street from the bar we would meet at. He put his arm around me in the theater and I didn’t feel the panic of a stranger touching me. It was comfortable, no pressure or exception, just two slightly too tall for the tiny theaters seats, trying not to laugh and get comfortable. 

That second meeting, a so called first date, went well enough to warrant a kiss at the end of the night. It didn’t compare to a searing kiss I’d received a year before from what I can only settle to call a lead singer/bad boy. But there was something so sweet and reassuring about this man. Man. Boy. I’m turing 28 this year, and he just turned 22. The years separating us much less than the number of times my stomach twisted about it. 

I’ve never, in my entire dating career dated a 22 year old. Not even when I was 22.

But, I realized the extreme distance in our lifestyles shortly into our 2nd date, and over the course of a few hours dreaded the determination in my gut not to alter this sweet, handsome face. His plans, his passions, so unlike mine. I want to flip a house. I want to build something from crumbling somethings. I wanted to find a career that was fitting to my desire to be outside but to make things beautiful. 

I want to charge, chin up, into challenges because they call to me. I don’t need a lot of money, but happiness and hard work. He wanted to be swept up in love, deep and challenging. I was challenging. I was attractive. I laughed in the face of something that scared me, and continued laughing when I got more scared. And he stared at me, my lips, and my eyes, and my collar bones. The way my hands moved, and that I swigged gin straight from the bottle the night he met me.  

I didn’t want to break or bend him, because he already seemed so willing to bend for me. 

Two dates in and he already confessed that he would do whatever I liked, Whatever I wanted. Dinners, dates, a summer of one sided affection had I chose that… That kind of free reign makes certain people tyrants, not lovers. Not parters.  Yes, you can guide a young lover into a better person, or you can alter their personality to an unnatural degree. They become a pleaser. I’ve been there. I did that, because a handsome man 8 years my senior gave me the kind of affection and attention that gets you drunk off life. That makes you watch movies, listen to music you never liked when you were alone, and spend Sundays doing what they wanted. 

I don’t, nor have I ever, want to sweep someone up in my being. I want to sweep each other away, and stand up, soaking wet laughing and grinning in joy at the next challenge. 

I think about the three specific men I’ve dated in my 27 years that have truly challenged me. To seek more, to move, to fight, to be more. They still do, in their absence from my life. I am more. I am so much. I don’t realize it when I look in the mirror. 

I realize it when I leave a little tiny, speck of myself with someone I could have settled with.  Or maybe changed a little bit. It’s not about change it’s about growth. It’s about the distances you travel together without even realizing it, until you see the mile markers that mark your never ending trip to “home”.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that… dating sucks. Because even when it’s okay. You have to communicate with yourself more than anyone else, before you damage yourself and others.

Break Me [Draco x Reader, One]

A/N: Haha let me start off by saying I honestly don’t believe Draco would be the cheater type, but I love angst and I love Draco so ,,, Also!! Don’t know if anyone would be interested, but I’m probably going to make a separate Hamilton Imagine blog!! I love Hamilton and all the characters and all of the cast members! Anyways, enjoy!! Love you all!!

 

Word Count: 1,636

 

Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Self blame. Cursing.

 

Summary: (Name) gave everything to him, but he wasn’t willing to give back.

 

Requested: No lol im a jerk


Chapter Two / Three / Four / Five


Masterlist


Originally posted by daz-zling-bling

The sight of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads. The mere thought of (Name) and Draco Malfoy turned heads.

(Name), perhaps the most loyal, caring, and kind girl anyone would ever know somehow ended up head over heels for Draco Malfoy. She would follow him around, a sweet smile never faltering. He would look pretty content with himself, arms linked with (Name’s) own. It didn’t take much to realize that (Name) was very attractive in a dreamy, almost fantasy like way. In fact, multiple men and women had asked for her affections. She only replied with a sweet smile and a polite rejection, claiming she already had a boyfriend.

Draco was no idiot. He knew that many people wished to have his girlfriend for themselves.

At first he merely got jealous at this. How dare someone fantasize over his girlfriend?!

As days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months, his jealousy turned into pride. She was another thing he had that many people, including Harry Potter, didn’t have.

The two started off hopelessly in love. Starry eyes and rosy cheeks were exchanged. Longing looks and sweet messages were sent back and forth.

Over time, Draco became more and more distant. However, (Name) stayed the same, remaining completely infatuated with him. Draco, from a first glance, didn’t seem to be as in love with (Name) as she was with him. 


The First Month.

 

Of course, like many couples, (Name) and Draco had a phase where nothing else seemed to matter but the two of them and their love for each other. It was almost as if they couldn’t be apart from one another or they would fall ill.

“Draco! Draco, come here!” (Name) chirped with the same giddy smile playing at her cheeks.

“Yes? (Name), what is it? Are you injured?” His voice was frantic and shaky. (Name) laughed and shook her head. “No, silly!” She spread her arms out wide. “Come here!”

Draco did so with a smile, leaning into her embrace. “What is all this about?”

“Mmm… Nothing, really. I just wanted to cuddle you. I love you, you know?” Draco chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of his beloved breathing softly into his chest. They didn’t seem to notice the dozens of students amongst them stare in disgust, envy, or even admiration.

“And I love you, (Name). Always.”


The Seventh Month.

 

While (Name) was in fact hopelessly, blindly in love, she was no idiot. She noticed when Draco avoided her affections or avoided her in general. She didn’t pay much attention to it, though. She assumed she was being clingy, and her herself was at fault. Sometimes the two would be together, a joyful smile ever present on (Name’s) face. But she noticed they only ever seemed to be affectionate around each other in front of crowds.

The thought that Draco may be using her crept in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t, would he?

No… He couldn’t. He loved her.

At least… That’s what she told herself.

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2

Sherlock fandom productivity on AO3 since series 4

With the flurry around the surprises in the new series, some of us longtime Sherlock fans might have the impression that everything is going up in flames. The tides of tumblr are hard to read, but a clearer view might be offered by looking at what the fandom is doing on AO3, our favourite archive. 

Above is a plot reporting the number of new and returning creators posting Sherlock works per month, since 2011. This and more plots below the cut show that Series 4 really energized the fandom, in particular fanwork creators that have been around for a few years. 

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I love Tumblr feminism but it is so damn West-centric. 

I realise, I realise perfectly, that women get raped and murdered and tortured in the West too. And I am in NO WAY undermining any of that. But feminism is such a complex issue and I’ve come to realise that feminism for one woman is not feminism for the other. 

For one woman, feminism is the right to wear the tightest, shortest clothes and not be degraded or attacked for it. For another woman, it is literally the right to be born. No feminism is more or less “valid”. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying that your rights are any less important. But feminism is so layered, and I find that–at least on tumblr–much of feminism’s other sides aren’t talked about as much. 

I can only speak reliably for women of my own country. 

It is honestly dangerous for me to be out of the house, alone, after a certain time of night. It’s risky for me to get wet in the rain because I’d look “sexy” and therefore I’m “asking for it”. In the burning heat of summer, I have to think twice about wearing anything short or sleeveless or in any way comfortable, because it would be “indecent” of me. It’s dangerous for me to wear a skirt, or a dress, unless I’m moving from a car to an indoor area, I’m cat-called on my way to college when I’m literally just wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, it’s dangerous for me to enter a taxi alone because I’m at the driver’s mercy, it’s dangerous for me to turn a man down because I could literally HAVE ACID THROWN ON MY FACE, and when I talk about issues like rape, powerful men in powerful offices in the country literally try to blame anything else but the rapist, including (and this is what an actual politician said), “spicy chinese food that gives men fire”. In my country it’s illegal for pregnant women to do a sex determination procedure because most people, when finding out that the unborn child is female, abort her. Doctors take bribes and do the test anyway. Aborted female foetuses are often fed to stray dogs or thrown into sewers. Female babies that are born are often murdered. There are places where local village councils don’t allow women to own mobile phones because it would give them too much freedom. Women are pulled out of school–children!–and young college students, to get married, because a woman’s only job is to give birth to a boy, and why not start right after her body is able to carry a baby, right? Martial rape isn’t against the crime, because some lawyers and judges literally can’t wrap their head around the fact that married women can be raped by their husbands.  Lesbians–they’re not even allowed the freedom to have sex. (Section 377). Trans women, are of course, not even considered human beings. 

And as bad as the women in my country have it, I realise that I am, in fact constitutionally, granted SO much more freedom than women of other countries. The law gives me the right to wear what I want, go where I please, drive a car, be alone. The law gives me freedom, even if my society does not. As a cis, straight woman, I am not considered an abomination against nature. And therefore when I read about the lives of women in countries worse of than mine, I am reminded that I am, in fact, endlessly privileged. My nationality grants me equal status with a man, my parents–progressive and feminist as they are–give me freedoms that even some of my friends don’t have (such as the freedom to choose the man I marry), my education and financial status give me the freedom to dream of what I can be in the future. I am lucky.

Feminism for women in my country is when a girl’s father tells me, “I’m going to educate my daughter like a boy, I want her to become a government servant.” I don’t think, how dare he choose a profession for his daughter, she has the right to choose! I think, wow, he’s giving her an education. 

Feminism for a woman in my country is when I tell my Australian cousin that, “it’s actually getting MUCH better. Child marriage has reduced.”

Feminism is when I have to explain to a New Zealander that, my father doesn’t force me to do anything. He doesn’t dictate the clothes I wear or where I go, or who I meet. I listen to him because I love and respect his judgement, and I know that when he looks at the crop top I’m wearing and asks, in badly-hidden surprise, “You’re wearing that?” it’s not because he has a problem with me showing skin, it’s because he’s terrified of me getting raped or killed. And when I talk about boys with my mother, it’s not because she’s forcing me to get married at the age of 18 to a man of her choosing, it’s because I have a crush and I want someone to talk to. That is more than what I can say for over 50% of my friends. 

No “version” of feminism is inherently more valid than the other. But Western feminism tends to discuss issues like equal pay and sexualisation in media, which are literally so far out of the issues women from less liberated societies face. And I believe that those women deserved to be acknowledged as well. 

Feminism should be about all women, of all backgrounds, otherwise we might as well not bother. 

When you revisit a difficult childhood memory or a traumatizing experience, you sometimes end up redirecting your feelings about it…You can’t always say ‘This is what I went through’ and move on. The frustration lies in when other people don’t understand why you’re acting a certain way.
—  Harry Shum Jr. on the tension between Magnus and Alec in the last scene (source)
Taken By Force (Taeyong!)

anon(s) said:Hey guys! I was wondering about a Dom!Taeyong smut where he’s really rough and forces you to blow him? Of course including consent but still, can it be really hot and stuff? :D sincerely, whose life is now complete 😌 thanks for your hard work guys❤

Can i request Taeyong smut when he finds out his gf search history was “Taeyong SMUT fanfic” “Taeyong 18+ fanfic” etc Lolololol Thank-you and have a great day

could you do a rough!taeyong super steamy smut? please make it as hot as you can sorry im just too thirsty for this guy lmao

author: admin hyo

word count:1863

a/n: What have I done~ this took me forever, but it’s here. The only real warning is that there is some consensual non-con. So if you’re not into that don’t read. But please enjoy.

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“I deleted your number from my phone month and months ago so that I wouldn’t text you in the late night. I know you sleep well, and fully throughout the night, and you grew sad and distanced yourself each morning you woke to find my frustration, years too late. I unfriended you on Facebook because you liked all the posts I put up, the happy ones, the good ones, the fun ones. I trained my brain to forget your last name. I taught myself not to think of your eyes. Or the shape of your collar bones. I now can proudly say I don’t think of you late at night when I stare at the light coming in my bedroom windows.”

I’m trying to slow time, and stay still enough so that I don’t wreck anything. That I don’t turn any of the good let in my life into something negative. 

I’m writing everything down lately. Because I don’t trust my memory to catch all the good and bad. It’s like a recently mended net, about to test it’s new strength. 

I hate writing K’s and G’s in my handwriting. I like writing L’s and S’s. I bought a spray bottle at the dollar store and filled it up with water and eucalyptus essential oil. I’ve been burning lavender incense and spraying my pillows with the eucalyptus water. I’ve rearranged my bookcase, and listened to an old FM radio. I searched for a station that didn’t have commercials for about 20 mins. My internet had been down some 24 hours at that point and I just needed a little something in my ears.

I’ve been gone 11 days, and now my cats don’t leave me alone. They come, twirling and dancing between my feet as I walk around surveying this apartment I missed. Each tiny and large thing put in a place that feels right, at least for now.  

In college I would repaint my studio apartment’s walls in the middle of the night because I needed a bit of a change. I would rearrange pillows, shelves and furniture because it felt better thinking about how I’d never been kissed. How I’d never known the touch of a trusted lover. Now I do it because it feels good to seek and find solace and comfort here, away from the world outside. 

I’m not sorry that I’ve allowed certain men take root in my memories. Idaho with his grumbling, growling, and breathtaking smile, his declarations. Brown eyes with the way his mouth moved when he talked and his tattoos, and his love of achingly soft music. The midwest gent for his attentive nature, patience, and his stoicism. My southern best friend who made me laugh like no other, with goofy memorable moments of pride and care, his strength. My contractor ex, nationally ranked rugby boyfriend who lived in the Poconos and who made me feel delicate, womanly, but who trusted me with a hammer and power tools. The tall gangly boy who grew into a handsome man, one night to take my hand late at night in his sports car only to whispered beautiful words of praise besides a lake under the moonlight some miles later. 

But that’s because I sometimes forget the bad associated with each. Or the bad I brought to them. 

I’m sitting on the floor, my legs have fallen asleep and I know I should shed my clothes and crawl into my bed. I should make a list of all I want to accomplish tomorrow, and I should, I should, I should, I should. 

I think I’ll soak in the tub, or change my sheets and get into bed and play a song that starts slow and sad, but builds in my chest like road trip views where you get surprised by a great landscape after the same sad thing miles and miles. Just one more hill. Just one more hike, one more mile, until you’re closer. I’m closer.

Everyday, I am thankful for those who have loved me, and who have allowed me to love them, even if it wasn’t enough for either of us in the long run. Because I’m learning to love myself more, and more. Learning to call myself out on my bullshit. Learning that exciting things happen every day, that I can make exciting things happen, worthwhile things.  

That one day, doesn’t matter how soon, all these memories, all this growth will mean a more successful relationship with another extraordinary person. With my extraordinary person. Who will grow with me. That will take me as I am, a person capable of greatness, even if that greatness is just great according to each of us, and the small things I do to affect others positively. 

I just have to breathe in, make several small movements that turn into larger ones, exhale, then do it all over again. 

I know we mostly like to imagine the opposite, but adam is way more ripped than ronan. as ripped as a teen can be. hear me out:
-ronan is a deranged insomniac drunk who probably only eats frozen pizza and warm pizza when he really wants to treat himself. as a perpetually drunk italian I can assure you that is no way to get a six pack
-adam works manually like 10 hours a day. he’s a sexy mechanicist, the kind that you see sexy car-washing while completely drenched in soap in certain rated channels. he also moves rocks, works in a factory and somewhere else yet to be clarified, probably a sexy car wash fantasy commercial
-when ronan punched robert parrish, all the odds were against him right? because robert is way bigger. you wouldnt expect him to win, it was a desperate, stupid move. but ronan is faster and even more vicious. imagine this giant angry man fighting against a scrawny emo teen, and the scrawny emo teen winning. that’s fucking awesome  
-ronan is a twink

Proud

summary: phil notices how much happier and confident dan has become (ft. shower sex)

genre: fluff!!!!! and also smut ayoooo

warnings: swearing, rimming, blowjobs, shower sex

word count: 1966

read on ao3!

a/n: hey hey hey! long time no write :) i was hit with inspo to write this fic on the way back from orlando (no joke, probs the best weekend i’ve had in a while), and i’m 99% sure this is one of the best fics i’ve written. i feel super confident and happy with it, and i couldn’t have done it without the lovely holly (who also beta’ed this fic check her out). i really really hope you enjoy, and after may 1st i will write as much as i can i promise <3

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Hatred (Part 2)

So many people were requesting a part 2 I decided to start that right away! Hope you all like it!

Part 1: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157668611423/hatred

Part 3: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157992846283/hatred-part-3

Masterlist: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157919516668/masterlist

Summary: After what happened at Betty’s party, you decided you needed to talk to Jughead. At first he doesn’t want to discuss it, but later he invited you to the drive-in to talk about it. Things get a bit heated just before someone finds out.

THE WEEK AFTER THE PARTY

It’d been days since your and Jughead’s make out session and you were still reeling from it. You wanted to see him so badly, but you didn’t think it was a great idea. You saw Jughead in the hall on Tuesday, but he refused to even look your way. You had to do something to get his attention.

On Thursday, you saw him and Betty talking after school. This was your opportunity. You rushed over to them, smiling at Betty. “Hey Betty, do you want to hang out and study for the history test tonight?”

Jughead glanced over at you. He knew he had to keep up the act, but he wanted an excuse to see you again. “Actually, Betty, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Pop’s with me after school?” Jughead said, his voice rigid.

Betty never liked to let anyone down, but this could be a problem. “Um, how about we all just study for the test together at Pop’s?” She smiled brightly, hoping it would encourage you and Jughead. “Can you guys handle that?”

You glanced at Jughead quickly, before looking back to Betty and smiling sweetly. “I think we can get along for a little bit.” Jughead nodded, looking away. This could be great, or it could be a huge mistake.

AFTER SCHOOL

You and Betty have your last period together, so you headed over to Pop’s together. You both sat down in a booth and pulled out your history notes. Jughead showed up a few minutes later, and sat next to Betty across from you.

“Okay, so let’s quiz each other.” Betty suggested. She looked at you first. “[Y/N], who was the fourth president of the United States?”

“It was one of the James’s… Monroe?” You guessed hopefully. Memorization was always hard for you.

“Madison, stupid.” Jughead said flatly, rolling his eyes at you. You looked at him, annoyed. Why was he being a jerk again?

“Be nice, Jughead.” Betty warned him. “Okay, this one is for you. What party did Jefferson belong to?”

He thought for a few seconds. “The Anti-Federalist party?”

“Actually, they were called the Democratic-Republicans.” Betty told him.

If Jughead was going to be a jerk, you would, too. “That was so obvious.” You stated.

“You two need to be nice or I’m going to leave.” Betty threatened. You couldn’t let her leave yet. You hadn’t gotten to talk to Jughead yet.

The questions continued for quite some time. You continued to get questions wrong because you couldn’t really focus on history with all of the questions about Jughead floating around in your head. Eventually, Betty excused herself to go to the bathroom. This was your chance.

“What’s your problem?” You whisper-hissed at Jughead. “Why are you being an asshole again?”

“Nothing’s changed. We’re continuing like we always have.” He crossed his arms across his chest. His eyes gave nothing away.

You looked at him, incredulous. “So that didn’t mean anything for you? You’re the one who started it!” You glanced around to make sure nobody was listening.

He sighed. “Just let it go, [Y/N]. It’s a bad idea to let things escalate.”

“Why? What are you afraid of happening? Betty would be super excited about it! Nobody would care!”

“It’s more complicated than that. Just let it go.”

“Fine, but here’s my number in case you change your mind.” You hissed. You quickly scribbled your number on a napkin before throwing it at him. “I’m leaving. Tell Betty I felt sick and went home.” You quickly gathered your things and walked out.

What was Jughead talking about? How could this be so complicated? He was the one who told you not to worry so much about what others thought, but he was too scared to let anyone know something happened between you two? Whatever. Screw him.

THE NEXT DAY

The next day went by uneventful. Jughead had put you in a bad mood, so everything was getting on your nerves.

“How do you think you did on that test?” Betty asked you after school. “I think that study session really helped. We should do that more often.”

You sighed. “I’m pretty sure I flunked it. I’m not sure why-” you knew exactly why- “but I felt really distracted. Maybe I’m getting-” before you could finish your sentence, your phone beeped, indicating you had gotten a message. “Sorry, Betty. I should probably take this. My mom probably wants me to pick up something from Pop’s for dinner.”

“No problem. I’ll text you later.” She said before leaving.

You checked your phone. It was a message from an unsaved number. “Meet me at the drive in” it read. Was this Jughead? You desperately hoped so.

You rushed home to change. You changed into a shirt that hung a bit low and swiped a bit of your favorite lipstick on. You were going to show him what he was missing.

As you walked through the entrance of the drive in, you heard someone call your name. You turned, seeing Jughead with his head poking out of the door of the projection booth. You walked over and he let you in.

You stood awkwardly near the door while Jughead leaned against the opposite wall.

He eyed you up and down. “Why are you dressed like that?” He laughed.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “This is how I usually dress.” You tried to keep a straight face.

“I don’t think it is. You came prepared to seduce me, didn’t you?” He laughed again.

All the color drained from your face. Why was he being so mean? “No!” You weren’t going to let him laugh at you anymore. “Why did you even tell me to come here?” You asked, annoyed.

He sighed. “I wanted to apologize for being so mean to you at Pop’s the other day.”

“Damn right, you should apologize.”

“It’s just…” he sighed again, looking away from you. “I don’t understand why. You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You rolled your eyes at him. He looks back at you before adding, “But I like you.”

“That’s it? You invited me over here to tell me the reason you kissed me was because you liked me? Even though you actually hate me?” This boy was so confusing.

“No. Yes. I’m not sure.” You could see he was conflicted.

“Why did you even kiss me if you thought you hated me?” You asked.

“You looked so pretty. And you were so closed to me. I just couldn’t really stop myself.” He refused to look you in the eye. You walked closer to him. You placed a hand on each of his cheeks, forcing him to look you in the eyes. Before you could stop yourself, you connects your lips with his.

He quickly unfolded his arms and placed one on each side your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the same hunger on his lips as you felt that night in the closet. You moved your hands so you could dig your fingers into his soft, dark hair.

After a few minutes you pulled away. Your lips ghosted over his jawline up to his ear. “I bet you like the way I’m dressed now.” You whispered. You could feel him smile against your neck. Your lips travelled down to his neck where you lightly placed kiss after kiss. He let out a soft sigh when your lips passed over a certain spot near his ear.

Before you could do anything, Jughead pulled your face back to his. His eyes were dark. He moved his hands to cup your cheeks and crashed his lips onto yours. His kiss was rougher than before. You sighed, enjoying the feeling of his body so close to yours.

All of a sudden there was a sound at the door. It opened and a figure came in calling for Jughead. You quickly broke away from him, turning towards the door. It was Betty. You moved a few feet away from him as fast as possible, but you knew that she had probably seen you.

“Ok wow.” Betty said, shocked. You looked over at Jughead. His eyes were wide with shock. Your lipstick was smeared across his face and parts of his neck. If he looked like that, you could only imagine how messy it was on your own face.

You turned bright red. This couldn’t be happening. “Uh, I need to go.” You said before practically running out of the door, pushing a still shocked Betty.

2

***

“Have you seen Betty?”

Kevin looked up from his cellphone to see the dark haired James dean lookalike staring at him expectantly.

“Are you kidding me? That’s the third time you’ve tracked me down to ask me that question , I’m flattered Jughead, really, but if you put half as much time into looking for Betty as you do asking me where she is, I’m sure you would actually find her.” He smirked cockily from his seat in the student lounge.

Jughead rolled his eyes and quirked an eyebrow as Kevin placed his phone down.
“It’s the third of the month, she’s were she is on every third day of every month.” He explained plainly. Clearly Jughead was missing something.

“And where would that be?” The beanie wearing boy asked patiently. Kevin finally looked up at him and frowned confused
“You mean you don’t know? You guys have been dating for three months, haven’t you ever wondered where she goes every third day of the month?” He asked.

“I never noticed, things have been pretty hectic, now that you mention it… so where is she? Where does she go?”

Kevin scratched his neck suddenly nervous and uncomfortable, it wasn’t a secret that Betty hid from anyone but it was a personal story, one Kevin was nervous to share. Jughead sensed Kevin’s tension and nodded encouragingly
“She’s my girlfriend dude.” He said slowly.

Shaking his head Kevin began the story

“On the third day of every month Betty heads out to the poppy fields over in Pembrooke, she spends pretty much the whole night there. She umm… it was her and her brothers special place. Do you remember Chick Cooper?” He asked

Jughead nodded, Chick Cooper was Betty’s older brother, he left Riverdale one day and never came back, everyone assumed he was in college and didn’t have time to make visits.

Kevin continued
“Chick well… Chick was killed a few years back, he was killed in combat. That’s why Betty took that huge break from school. Well anyway, Chicks ashes are spread in the poppy field and Betty goes every month to talk to him, when they were kids they would get dressed up and spend hours out there. Betty continued the tradition on the third of every month, she left school early today to head down there.” Kevin trailed off as his phone began to ring “oh that’s Joaquin! I have to take this” with that the excited boy ran off leaving Jughead alone with his thoughts.

What kind of a boyfriend was he that he didn’t know that about his girlfriend? Her brother, her best friend, he was dead? She never brought it up, never mentioned it. Was she holding all that pain in this whole time. God Jason blossoms murder, that must have hit home with her, that’s why she was always trying to help Cheryl, giving her the benefit of the doubt, he could still remember the soft way she had reminded Veronica

“Remember, She just lost her brother.”
He should have noticed how sad her eyes were, how she seemed to go to a distant place in her mind. She was always there supporting him, confiding in him, and he didn’t even care to know her family story?
Suddenly an idea rang through his mind, hopping over the couch, he ran through the halls before finding Archie in a towel in the boys locker room

“Hey jug! What’s u…”

“I need to borrow your white button down, you keep an extra in here for emergencies right?” Jughead asked digging through Archie’s gym locker.

“Umm yeah sure, why the desperate need for a button down” Archie asked confused.

“I’ve got a date with Betty and her brother.” He stated simply, smiling and holding up the white shirt in victory.
Archie looked confused
“Jug, Betty’s brother, chick.. he’s..”

Jughead ripped his shirt off and pulled Archie’s over his shoulders

“A little big, but it’ll do. Thanks pal, see you tonight.” He slapped a hand to Archie’s shoulder and headed outside towards Fred Andrews old truck, Archie’s dad let him drive it almost all the time, it was crazy having someone who cared about you, it still made Jughead stop and slow down a little, maybe one day he’d get used to it, but for now he was just grateful.

He arrived at the Pembrooke poppy fields in record time, casting a quick look in the mirror, he decided to leave his hat. He didn’t want Chick thinking he was a weirdo, ghost or not.

It was easy to find Betty, she was sitting crouched in the flowers, her long blonde hair left loose just like Jughead liked, the gorgeous black, flowing dress was a dark contrast to the brightly colored Flowers and Jughead was almost certain he would never see anything as beautiful as this scene for the rest of his life. He made his way to her slowly as he heard her talking into the air

“…but Polly is certain it’s a boy, even though the doctor says it’s twins she doesn’t believe him, I’d love a niece but then again having another guy In the house might be nice, ya know with dad not living at home anymore.”

Jughead took that moment to step in
“Hey, what am I chopped liver?” He asked with a small smile, laughing as Betty jumped up, her eyes going wide when she first saw him.

“Juggie?! What are you doing here?” She moved to touch his arm, a gesture she had adopted to let him know she was happy he was here.

“I told you that it’s important for me to meet your family, I meant your whole family.” He finished softly, cupping her cheek with his palm as her eyes filled with tears

“Juggie.” She choked out.

“Plus I get to see you looking like the blackbird of my dreams” he smiled goofily as Betty gave a watery laugh, tugging him by the hand to sit beside her in the poppys.

“Chick loved flowers and he loved photography, I think you two would’ve really gotten along.” She smiled sadly, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Well Chick, I’m sorry I never got to meet you, I’m sure you were an amazing guy. And patient too, living in a house with all those cooper girls.” He smiled as Betty snorted beside him
“I love your sister, I’m going to take care of her okay. You don’t have to worry about me hurting her, I won’t.” He looked down to see Betty staring up at him, her dark green eyes shining with love
“Also.. I know you would be giving me a really painful pat on the back, so take comfort in the fact that I appreciate the sentiment.” Jughead said up to the sky.

Betty and Jughead sat in that yellow and orange field for hours, talking to each other, talking to her brother and occasionally losing themselves to fits of giggles. This world was filled with sadness and the darkness tended to overwhelm the light these days, but in a poppy field on the third day of the third month, two damaged small town kids found love in each other and that was something to hold onto.

Our Mirror

stood in the bathroom and stared at the drawing on the mirror. My husband, Robbie, drew it there, when he was alive. The crude lines depicted a little house with a family inside: a woman on the left, a child in the middle, and a man on the right. He always thought of me first.

The sink ran endlessly in the kitchen, accompanied by the clanking sounds of dishes and my mother’s voice, like a persistent bell clanging in my skull. Her words were lost in the noise.

It had been six months since I washed that mirror. It used to be that you could only see the drawing when you tilted your head a certain way, or after a hot shower. Now, the mirror is coated with dust and you can always see it. I created little valleys in the dust, tracing the marks Robbie’s finger made over and over again.

“Teresa!” My mother is looking for me. I can feel her approaching the open door behind me.

Robbie began drawing on the mirror when we first moved in to this house. Sometimes, it was just a smiley face or a heart. Sometimes, it was my name.

“Teresa, I’ve never seen so many bottles in my…”

The first time I saw his writing on the mirror, I assumed he’d done it to annoy me. It didn’t. I found it sweet. It made me feel as if he were here with me somehow, when we were apart. I cleaned the mirror once a week or so, and a few days later, I’d notice another message. I grew fond of our tacit ritual.

“Oh. That’s just weird,” mother said, entering the bathroom.

“I’d like to be alone.”

“No. You’ve had enough alone time. Get your coat and shoes. We’ll get lunch.”

We stared each other down and I could see that I wasn’t getting away easily, this time. I shuffled reluctantly from the room to get my things.

As I pulled on a sock, I heard a squeaking noise from the bathroom. I realized what it was with mounting horror.

I shrieked like an underdisciplined child when I saw my mother holding a dusty rag and a bottle of Windex. The mirror was clean.

I could have killed her, but I only shoved her. I cried. She cried. We didn’t get lunch, after all.

I sobbed into a pillow, for a while. I had a drink. I got a headache. I decided to take a shower.

I thought of Robbie as the scalding water poured over me.

We were trying to have a baby, and then he died.

I ran my hand over my flat stomach. I ached. The water began to run cold.

I exited the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. I froze when I saw the fresh writing on the mirror.

“I’m still here,” it read.

Tears welled in my eyes, “Robbie, is that you?”

I recoiled as new lines began to appear in the condensation before my eyes. My heart thudded violently as I read them.

“Never was,” they read.

YUZU DAYS, 6 March 2017.
Reason for evolution “Heading for greater heights”

Olympic champion, current world records holder, 1st person with 4 consecutive GPF victories, Yuzuru Hanyu says, “I am still far from the skate that I am aiming for.”  Not content with the present situation, Hanyu continues to strive towards greater heights. 

I really hate to lose. I absolutely want to win all competitions and I don’t want any kind of regretful feelings. Even during training, on days that I cannot jump well, I feel that I have lost to myself and I will be very frustrated. I cannot help it.  (I’m) already the extreme type of ‘hate-to-lose’. [laughs]

My 'hate-to-lose’ is not just about the win and loss of a competition. When I make a mistake, I have lost to myself who have not grown. When I decide that I want to do this performance, it has to be that performance, I will think that way. Even if I can do it, I am very uncompromising (t/n. or rigid or stubborn) and so until now there has hardly been any time when I felt satisfied.  But failure and frustrated/regretful (kuyashii) feelings are a certain kind of experience. Because there is failure, so there can be reflection;  frustration and regret can also become (coils of) springs. I think that’s why I can keep moving forward.

Figure skating has many components like jumps, spins and steps; it requires not just skating skills but also expressive skills. It is a sport that is extremely multi-faceted. If there is one part that is not going well, there are other parts that can be stretched. For example, if you are not making much progress in jumps, you can polish up steps, spins or expression; there are many areas that you can grow in, if you search for it. As long as you don’t fix your own limits, there is no end to how much you can grow / improve. Further on ahead, with more years of age, even if jumps cannot be done anymore, expressive abilities can be refined, so it can become better in a different sense. When I think of this, there is still a lot more that I can evolve. This is why I think figure skating is so interesting.

Figure skating is a sport that is done by one person on the ice, but the bigger the competition, the bigger the group of people that supports that one competitor. Until I finally reach the ice, there are people who help to get my body ready, the coaches who teach me, and the people in the team. Then there is my mother who supports me in everything from daily life to competitions, and also everyone who sends me cheers at the venue. Heading towards the same direction, all these people are competing together with me. I have the feeling of competing in a team. And because I can feel that I am not alone and everyone is here for me, I can focus, I can work hard and do my best. To all the people who support me, I am truly grateful.

Translated by me.
Source: P&G, myrepi.com

My past translations of YUZU DAYS:  HERE

Teen!Dean Drabble

Characters: Teen!Dean x Reader

Summary:  Dean meets a girl at a motel.

Word Count: 634

Warning:  Smut

Jesus Christ.

I - oh god. Christ.

My fingers are inside of her. She let me push the fabric of her skirt aside and I slid her panties over and slipped my fingers in her. It’s warm and wet and soft - fucking hell - how is this even happening?

She whimpers when I move my finger a bit. Am I doing it right? Was that a noise of approval? I wiggle my finger and she gasps. Yeah, okay, she likes that. A lot, apparently.

I’m so fucking hard right now. My dick is pressed up to her and she’s pressed up against the wall. I wonder if she’s going to want to - oh, shit, I just might come in my pants. I ease back a little, I don’t want to blow my load now. That would be embarrassing.

She groans and I panic a little. Sammy is sleeping in the motel room. There’s no way he can hear her, but still. So I kiss her. It’s a wet and there’s a lot of tongue. It’s not my first kiss, but this is definitely my first time past second base. I did dry hump Katie Peterson back in Iowa, but that’s as far as went. This is uncharted territory.

I’d been checking her out at the pool, with those sexy curves and that beautiful smile. She came over to me, all flirty and out of breath. She’s on a family vacation, off to the Grand Canyon.  

I tell her I’m on vacation too, with my dad and my brother.

She told to meet her here, she’d come as soon as her parents fell asleep. I got Sammy to bed and then sat here waiting. Wondering if I was a fool, wondering if she’d come.

And she did. We kissed shyly at first, bumbling and awkward. But we fell into it, the kisses becoming deeper, more urgent.  I felt warm and tingly all over. Her hand ran up my back, I worked my hand under her shirt, up over her breast.  

Which led to me fingerbanging her behind the motel. I’ve never done this before and it’s incredibly fucking hot. I like all the sexy little noises she makes and the way she shifts her hips and rolls her body when I move my fingers a certain way.

My fingers are slick - fuck, I’m going to come. I feel that achy feeling in my balls, they pull tight, I know I’m about to lose it. I pull back again, I want to make her come before I do.  Truth is, I have no idea how to do that. I know a million ways to kill a monster. I know the way to make Sammy’s grilled cheese just right, but I know nothing about how to make a girl come.

My thumb feels a bit useless so I try stroking her on the outside with it. It brushes over a swollen little nub - oh god.  She just pitched forward and cried out when I touched it.

So I touch it again.

And again.  

Jesusmotherfuckingchrist.

I feel her clamp down around my fingers. I did not fucking know that happens. It’s like she’s pulsing around my fingers, her juices are running down my hand.

That’s it - I can’t even hold myself back now. I shudder against her and spurt all over the inside of my boxers, my vision going sideways. I can see fucking stars man.

We just stay there, panting and gasping, sticky from the warm summer night.  

She kisses me again, this time soft and not at all awkward.

She makes me promise to write, so I promise, but I probably won’t. Dad will be back soon and we’ll be heading out. She can’t exactly write me back, so what’s the point?

But goddamn, I’ll remember her forever.

Keep reading

as I’ve been gently descending into real hockey hell lately, I came across the anecdote that a certain famous rl candian hockey forward used to go to local pick up games, but he was so good that they made him play goalie so that the opposing team would have a chance.

when you combine this with my headcanon (for my bitty-navigates-his-early-20′s fic that i may or may not ever write) that bitty joins a local beer league after he moves to Providence….you get…

Bitty is thrilled when he discovers a local rec league in Providence. He’s missed being out on the ice and it sounds like a great way to make some friends. Even better, there’s no checking allowed. He signs up right away.

Keep reading

BTS reaction: they realize they have fallen for someone they used to hate.

canyounotbro requested:

Can you please please please do a reaction of BTS realising they have fallen for someone they hate (or used to hate/ supposed they hate/ thought they hated??) Idk, but u know what I’m saying.. I hope.. Thank you!!!

A/N - I’m actually very proud of how this one turned out. 


Jin:

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Jin would accept his feelings for you very easily. It’s true that the two of you used to hate each other, but he strongly believes that people can change. So after he realizes that he has fallen for you his attitude towards you would immediately change causing you to ask him what’s wrong with him.

“Hello Y/N. You look amazing today!”

“Seokjin, are you being sarcastic? You hate me…”

“No I’m not. And, no I don’t…hate you.”


Yoongi:

Originally posted by loveblushes

One of the reasons Suga hated you was because you made him feel…feelings. Feelings that he had never felt before and that made him feel stupid and made him want to do stuff that he didn’t know how to explain. 

So one day when the two of you were walking down the hallway with no one else around except you and him, Yoongi would decide to act. He walked over to you and grabbed you by the arm, pressing you against the wall. You thought he was going to hurt you, but when you looked up at him his eyes were filled with…something…and it wasn’t the usual anger. That’s when he leaned in and kissed you. 

“Can you meet me after school? Please! I need to talk to you about something…” He said before walking away.


Jhope:

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

You and Hobi were the two best dancers in your entire town. But also very competitive, which cause for you two to hate each other, constantly trying to prove one of you is better than the other. That was until one night he walked in on you practicing a new dance and was completely mesmerized. He couldn’t stop looking at the way your body moved so gracefully to the music and the way you bit your bottom lip in concentration when you were trying to remember certain parts of the song. That’s when he realized he has fallen for you and quietly sigh to himself.

“I can’t believe I’ve been so blind…”


Namjoon:

Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon

Being the two smartest people in your entire school you and Namjoon argued. A lot. All the time. You argued about the stupidest things, each of you having different opinions about a lot of stuff. And on top of all the teachers always asked the two of you to work together so you can “exchange knowledge”. 

Namjoon would have fallen for you a long time before he realized it. So when he finally confesses by an accident it would be unexpected for bothe of you.

“Do you want me to list all the things I hate about you?” He started yelling, “Okay then. First of all, you’re loud and extremely obnoxious! Second of all, I hate the way you bite your lip in concentration when we are working on something because it’s just so fucking distracting. And I hate the way your eyes lit up when you smile because it makes me smile too. And I…”

He noticed you smiling and stopped before smiling back.


Jimin:

Originally posted by whyparkjimin

You didn’t know why but you and Jimin had always hated each other. Ever since you were kids you would constantly tease each other, be mean to each other and just overall hate each other. That’s just how it has been, for years. 

The only problem was that Jimin has fallen for you.

He tried to deny it at first, lying to himself, telling himself he was just imagining stuff. But as hard as he tried to suppress it he couldn’t help that every time he saw you his heart skipped a beat. 

This would cause him to constantly argue with himself. Sitting alone in his room, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, his eyes filling up with tears at the thought of you.  

“What the hell is wrong with you Jimin?” He whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair.


Taehyung:

Originally posted by mvssmedia

You’ve always found Taehyung to be annoying. And he had always found you boring. You didn’t talk a lot and whenever you did talk it was mostly him being an asshole to you. So it could be safe to say that the two of you most definetly hated eachother. 

It was like that for years. Until one day after school, he saw you sitting by yourself on a park bench, your legs crossed underneath you, with your headphones on, you were scribbling something down in a small journal on your lap. Tae couldn’t stop looking at you, completely hypnotized by your beauty and the way the sunlight was hitting you at the perfect angle. 

He smiled to himself and took out his phone, taking a quick picture of you before leaving. 

When he got home he opened the picture, looked at it and sighed, remembering all the mean things he has said to you over the years.

“Taehyung you, idiot,” he whispered to himself, “What have you done?! You made the girl of your dreams hate you…”


Jungkook:

Originally posted by namujune

Jungkook was a quiet kid, he didn’t really have a lot of friends and enjoyed to be by himself. You were extremely loud and obnoxious always making jokes and always being the center of attention. 

It would be an underestimate to say that Jungkook didn’t like you. He hated you. Your personality was just so different from his and he often found you very annoying.

But that all changed one day when you decided to sit with him at lunch. You knew he didn’t like people (especially you) but it wouldn’t hurt to try talking to him.

He was kind of cold and distant to you at first but the more you talked the more he started opening up. That’s when he realized that he actually really likes you.

“You’re changing Jungkook…” He sighed to himself after you left, smiling.


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