where one of those is an old woman

amysantiagone  asked:

In Rogue One, Cassian Andor states that he's been fighting for the rebels since he was 6 years old. Assuming he meant literal combating, would his personality be similar to that of a child raised for combat? Would there be any differences?

This is sort of a yes and no, as all children involved in violent conflicts from an early age are affected by it. However, the children who take part in rebellions aren’t in the same category of the child soldiers discussed on this blog before, though they absolutely share similarities.

Kids involved in rebellions are rarely used as frontline combatants. They’re far too valuable for that. Instead, they function as informants, carriers, and, occasionally, saboteurs. They’re not the one who picks up the gun to shoot down enemy soldiers in a safe zone. They’re the ones who move the gun past the security perimeter or receive it from the old man or woman who did and plant it. They’re the ones hanging around befriending enemy soldiers in bars or cantinas so they can tip their friends off about where the troops are moving to next. Children, women, the elderly, those generally viewed as non-combatants, the ones that society overlooks or views as “safe” are often the backbone of any resistance movement.

They get the goods, they move the packages, they carry the messages between resistance cells, they sometimes take care of the equipment, and they do most of the footwork that allows a resistance to engage the enemy. When they do fight, it’s generally in the form of sabotage like finding and slipping poison into the enemy troop’s stew, planting bombs, or because survival necessitates it when their cover is blown.

As a child, Cassian Andor would have a background common with other children in rebellions depicted in media like ‘Phan Duc To’ from Good Morning, Vietnam! (1987) and the children involved in The Battle of Algiers (1966).

If you’ve never seen Good Morning, Vietnam! I just spoiled the movie.

The Battle of Algiers is a great movie if you’re looking for an honest overview of how rebellions function on both sides of the conflict or just a treatment on the French colonization of Algeria. Fair warning, it is not an english language film. Kiera Nerys from Star Trek: Deep Space 9 is another decent character to look at when wanting to model a background for a resistance fighter who joined as a child. G’kar from Babylon 5 and the entire Narn/Centauri conflict is also an excellent example of the enduring hatreds and issues brought by colonization.

One of the qualities you see in these children and then again as adults is pure, unadulterated hatred for their oppressors. More so than the other kinds, they hate. Often to the point of becoming a new version of the enemy their resistance was attempting to drive off.

Cassian would’ve spent a lot of time hanging around rebel fighters, doing odd jobs for them until the day came when they were short a man or needed a message run by someone who wouldn’t attract attention.

If this has started to sound like spycraft, well, you’re not far off. Resistances don’t have the luxury of major battle offensives like an army, and even guerilla warfare is actually a step up from what happens on the ground, and there is a common word you’ll find familiar for what they do: terrorism.

The actions of a resistance fighter and the actions of a terrorist are one and the same, the only difference is in who is telling the story. If you want to investigate real resistances without the judgements, study up on World War II, the French Resistance, and the Maquis.

Yes, that Maquis not the one from Star Trek.

On the ground resistances are rough and ready, they’re often split apart into distinct cells comprised of only a few agents, and almost no one knows who is higher up the food chain. This is important because it protects the other operating cells and resistance leadership in case an operative is captured by the enemy.

For the most part, whether you’re writing historical fiction or a foray into science fiction, the philosophy, goals, and strategy of a resistance will remain the same. What changes is how they go about operating within their setting because, like spies, a resistance requires the author have a solid grasp on how the enemy functions, the details in how they hold power, the technology they have access to, and how their army works.

On a literal and literary level, the Resistance is about disruption. Whether they’re sabotaging train tracks, blowing up food transports, or bombing nightclubs, their goal is to disrupt everyday life and make it as unpleasant as possible. They’re ghosts in the system, you’ll never know where or when they’ll strike, and they’re out to destroy enemy moral every way they can. A resistance drives the enemy from their homeland by making the cost of holding it no longer worthwhile. Though, historically, this is often impossible unless the majority of the population joins the cause and/or the tide of public sentiment back home within the enemy’s homeworld or nation turns against the invaders. A resistance occurring against the powerful within their own homeland is much, much more destructive.

What marks a character like Cassian, who grew up in a resistance movement, more than other children engaged in violence is first and foremost betrayal. Betrayal from without, betrayal from within, the people he’s lied to and betrayed, seeing many friends vanish overnight or die, and never quite knowing who he can trust. He probably has very few friends left alive from his early days with the Rebellion, and more than likely experienced the Imperials wiping out his cell(s) on multiple occasions. He worked his way up the ranks until he became an operative working closely within the Rebellion’s inner circle.

Star Wars is functionally much more clear cut than the real resistances that occur throughout the world.

Happy writing!


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The Hated Women of Fandom

Mary Watson wakes in a white room, sitting in a plastic chair. She’s surrounded by girls and women, some of whom are drinking heavily. There’s a banner hanging overhead, which reads Female Characters Anonymous. A redheaded teenage girl pats her on the knee.

“Don’t be frightened. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Where am I?” Mary asks.

The girl raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know?” She spreads her arms out. “This is the place where good female characters come to die.”

Mary frowns. “Oh, because I died in my show?”

Everyone laughs.

“Honey, I wish!” A woman with dark eyeliner calls out. 

“Ignore Lexa. She’s still angry about the bullet thing.” The teenage girl looks Mary up and down. “Then again, you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?”

“About what?”

“Oh, you know. Being killed off for drama. Or in your case, man pain.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” a woman to Mary’s right grumbles. She’s got bright red hair and a shirt that says Supernatural: Was it ever a good show?

“That’s Charlie. She had a good run until the writers didn’t know what to do with her.”

Mary, who’s starting to get an idea about where she is, shakes her head with a little laugh. “No, you must be mistaken. I was a good, strong character. I don’t belong here”

A few chuckles at that. Someone mutters, “I’ve heard that one before.”

The teenage girl gives her a sympathetic smile. “Have you taken a look at the fandom lately? They hate you. Always have.”

Mary frowns. “But–”

“I know it must be hard to understand at first, but let’s face it. You were an imperfect female character. You had flaws and a dark side, which would have been fine, if you hadn’t posed a threat to the Main Ship.”

A cold wind passes through the room. Everyone shudders. 

“The what?”

“Johnlock. The ship of an era.”

“Oh, that,” Mary says with a smile. “That’s perfectly fine! There’s no reason to hate me just because you ship Johnlock.”

“No, it’s not that. Some of the fandom, certainly not all of them, hate you because in their eyes, you’re the thing that’s blocking them from easy access to their ship. Trust me, I have experience with this.”

Mary squints at the girl. “Who are you?”

The girl smiles. “I’m Ginny Weasley.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Yup. I’m a bit of an old-timer around here. Boy, I cannot even begin to tell you the number of Drarry fanfics wherein I either cheat on Harry with Dean, turn into a monstrous bitch, or simply disappear altogether.”

“Don’t forget the ones where you start dating Neville for no reason!” A woman shouts out.

Ginny laughs a bit. “Those are usually alright. I have to go somewhere, right?”

Mary is starting to panic a bit. “I…I don’t think I understand.”

Ginny nods. “Don’t worry. There’s someone whom I think you should meet.” She pulls Mary to her feet and leads her towards a dark corner in the room. “This girl hasn’t been here for as long as me, but she’s certainly suffered worse. She not only got in the way of a Main Ship, but a canon Main Ship. And a straight one, at that. She’s been shat on, villainized, ignored, pretty much everything in the book. A true warrior of her time.”

Mary starts to get nervous as they approach this girl. She’s seated at a bar, head down on the counter, twirling a paint covered finger around a whiskey glass. 

When they’ve reached her, Mary clears her throat. “My name is–”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh. Well, who are you?”

After a moment’s pause, the girl downs the whiskey in one gulp, and slams the glass on the counter. She slowly turns to fix Mary with a battle-hardened stare. “My name, is Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare.”

some of my favorite things I have heard said at work over the years:

“Hey, wanna see something pretty…besides me?”

“What is the boneyard?” … “That’s where we keep all the dead people we kill. Y’all thought they quit.”

“Here’s the thing about hip. If you say you’re ‘hip’, you’re not hip.”

“I’d like to get one of those old globes. I’d like to find one that’s so old, it’s flat.”

“You just broke up big-time bad.”

“I don’t need you. I just want to tell you I sent you an email.”

“What a sick fax.”

“Where’s your chandelier now?”

“Welcome to the Mellow Mushroom.” … “I don’t want to know what kind of mushroom you’re talking about.”

“Nothing says ‘relevant’ like THIS font. It’s like AOL.”

“That woman has the personality of a fish.”

I submit...

… Superman. He’s still Superman. Still Clark Kent. Still boy next door, still the every-man fighting the good fight trying to repair the world… he just has a Jack Harkness kind of attitude about who he’s attracted to and it doesn’t other him even a little bit.

Like, he never MENTIONS it, but he’s been all over the galaxy and has just accepted that the light beings from Aquarius-3 are super sexy, so are the lizard people from that one quasar system, and so is Lois Lane. It’s fine. People do not ask Superman who he is banging because that’s rude. If he actually told them who he bangs they might be SHOOK.

Sounds So Sweet

Originally posted by dean-winchester-crush

The Jensen ficlet I mentioned last night! Here’s the song, in case you don’t know it. 

Saturday Night Special was always a fun time, for fans and the on-stage guests as well. Of course, when Jensen Ackles took the stage, the screams in the crowd got even louder.

Honey, why are you calling me so late?
It’s kinda hard to talk right now
Honey, why are you crying, is everything okay?
I gotta whisper ‘cause I can’t be too loud

The opening chords of the old Hinder song had hinted to only some of the crowd what was coming next. When Jensen opened his mouth and started singing those words, however, the crowd went crazier than ever. He stayed at the microphone for that first verse and chorus, then moved to the front of the stage where girls and women were lined up and reaching out for him as they sang along.

One particular woman drew his attention, and caused Jensen to smile. Crouching down in front of her, he sang the words as though he was singing to her for the next full verse and chorus. With a wink and a caress of her cheek, pink from the heat in the place as well as the excitement of that moment, Jensen stood up and moved back to the microphone. Every so often, his eyes wandered back to that woman, and the grin would once again tug at his lips.

Jensen stuck around for the remainder of the Saturday Night Special, watching from the backstage and making a couple more appearances with the other guests. He was sweaty and tired, but there were other reasons to look forward to returning to his hotel room.

He slid the keycard into the slot, and the light turned green. He walked into the room, noting the beside lamp was already on, to where you were sitting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of you. You were wearing one of his t-shirts and a tight, short pair of sleep shorts.

“Didn’t know you were going to sneak down for the concert,” Jensen said, kneeling on the mattress before crawling over to where you were.

You shrugged. “When you told me you were going to sing that song, I had to be there. Maybe the fandom is the other woman in this case, and I know we’ll go public eventually. But for now, it’s kind of fun, keeping our relationship a secret. Do think they have any idea?”

“Not a clue,” Jensen said, shaking his head before dipping his head lower so that his lips could meet yours.

Glitch in Time

An Antisepticeye story based on the characters of @justwritingscibbles in this fic. (Including a very brief mention of Taylor.)

Originally posted by lum1natrix

Y/N shrieked as she jumped backwards, dodging the slashing knife at eye height, her cup of tea splashing down her shirt.
“Anti! What the hell!” she grumbled, looking at her saturated top. “That’s not funny!”
“Sure it is!” Anti cackled, flipping the knife in his hand, “you’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, the tea’s cold,” Y/N admitted, “but that doesn’t make it funny. I swear, you’ll be the death of me one day.”
“C'mon Sugar. Lighten up. We’re only playing.”
“No! I’m not playing. Just leave me alone for a bit, it’s been a really bad day.” Anti’s knife vanished. His eyes glinted with green light.
“I know I can make it better,” he offered, eyebrows waggling, “and I bet I can get you to… Play.” He darted forward, slipping past Y/N with a cheeky slap on her behind. She swung at him with the heavy textbook on her other hand.
“Hey!” Y/N yelled as Anti slipped away, darting into a lamp by the kitchen. Y/N chased after him, dropping the empty cup and snatching at the blur leaping between appliances.
“Can’t catch me!” Anti mocked, just out of reach.
“I’m going to strangle you!” Y/N growled.
“That’s my girl,” he chuckled, leaving the kitchen appliances and slipping into a hallway lamp, then into the bedroom. There weren’t as many electronics to hide in here, so he hid in the alarm clock by the bed, the digital screen flashing ‘HE:HE’ instead of numbers.
“Told you I could make you play,” Anti laughed, his voice echoing through the room.
“Oh, go to hell!” Y/N screeched, slamming her textbook down hard upon the clock.

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Woman is the kind of song that plays in one of those old 80s movies, where there’s a girl in a stripper pole and the guy is sitting and watching her and I want to FUCKING DIE

anonymous asked:

I'm not trying to pick a fight, just confused. Like, if a trans girl has fully transitioned and only interested in women, can't they call themselves a lesbian? If not, what should they calm themselves? I get lesbians not being into people with dicks of course but like, no dicks involved. It's all confusing

First of all, thanks for being respectful. People have been to quick to insult.

So I think one of the issues here is the common portrayal of femaleness and womanhood as the absence of male characteristics. Surgical removal of male genitals is not the same as having a vulva. Same way that surgically bifurcating your tongue doesn’t make you able to perceive the presence of molecules in the air through your Jacobson’s Organ like a snake.

Mor than that, being a lesbian is not simply about the absence of penis. Males love to try to define and categorize women according to whether they will fuck them or not, but being a lesbian is about being female AND being exclusively attracted to other female people, and genitals are not all that matter. Lesbians connect to other women in great part because we have the shared experience of living through the world as female. We were socialized in a similar manner. We have this non-verbal understanding that comes from years of living in a world that has certain expectations from you since you were born. And as much as it might be painful to admit that, there are some things that trans women will never understand. Trans women, being born and raised male through their formative years, have a second-hand understanding of what it is to be a woman, which leads to some really unnatractive behaviors, like forced over-the-top hyperfemininity and infantile mannerisms, as well as male-socialized behaviors they don’t even like to admit they have, like sexual entitlement, dominating posturing, talking over people, threatening violence and the complete inability of taking criticism.

Female-born people learn womanhood by being beaten over the head with it from the time we were born. From the disappointment of your father because you’re not a boy, to having your ears pierced before you’re even old enough to sit up by yourself, to having lower expectations about your potential. We were forged into womanhood, and it hurts. It break us. But it gives us a sort of resilience too, a kind of unwyelding bravery that only women have. The kind of exhausted defiance that you only get by going out every single day into a world that thinks you should be confined indoors, by coming home late at night every day knowing that if something happens to you everyone is gonna say it’s your fault. It takes a lifetime to acquire this resilient quality. Talk to a really old woman sometime, listen to her. They get to a certain age where they reach a breaking point and stop giving a shit about what anyone else thinks, and it’s amazing. This is why male supremacy has historically been afraid of old women.

Trans women, on the other hand, learn womanhood by emulating what they think women are, and this perception is invariably male-biased. Trans women want to emulate porn stars and pop divas. Never seen one of them say they learned to be a woman by watching their mother. None of them want to be one of those tired working women on the train at 9PM, sleep deprived and with sore feet, who are just leaving work and thinking that they’re gonna have to get home and make dinner and clean the kitchen and bathe the kids and then try to get some sleep to start it all over again tomorrow. No, they wanna be Beyoncé. They wanna be glamorous superstars, without realizing that there’s nothing glamorous about being a woman. And boy, they get SO pissed when you point this out. They just don’t get it, and they don’t even want to.

And this is why trans women cannot be lesbians. Not only they are not female homosexual individuals - the actual definition of what is a lesbian - but they also lack the life experience and outlook that would make them interesting to a lesbian.

I’ll leave you with a question here. Why don’t these trans women who are attracted to women date each other instead of bothering women who are clearly not interested? Why do they consider that they’re good enough for us, but they don’t consider other trans women good enough for them? Why should we settle for “uh at least there’s no dick” when they require a legit vulva in their relationship?

And why are we lesbians always the ones who have to be flexibilizing our boundaries and scuffling around to make everyone happy in detriment of our own needs and wants?

Think about that.

Invisible, Chapter Three

Summary: Cursed as a child, you have lived your entire life invisible and alone. When deaths start happening in your town, the Winchesters come rolling in to investigate. What will happen when Dean is the first one who has been able to see you since you were a kid? Will Sam believe that you’re real? Will Dean believe you when you tell him you haven’t killed anyone? And why, after all of this time, is Dean Winchester the only one who can see you?

Invisible Masterlist - Previous Chapter

A/N: And so the drama begins…

word count: ~1550

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What if MC were a grandma

  • She’d be the type of old woman to have those hard candies in her purse at all times. Y’know the ones where the wrappers look like strawberries? And it seems like they’re reserved for only old people because they’re nowhere to be found in stores? Those.
  • Keeps sewing supplies in a cookie tin even if she doesn’t sew.
  • She makes herself out to be waaaaaaaaay older then she is. She’s always shouting things like “Oh, my hip!” even if her hip is fine.
  • She took one of the kid’s skateboards one day and just skated off with it.
  • “Back in my day,”
  • Takes her husband/ Jaehee to bingo every week. If she misses bingo, her s/o doesn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the week.
    • It’s a competition in the house to see who knows the most answers. She and her s/o (and the grand kids on occasion) spend too much time on google, learning useless shit.
  • For her 60th birthday, everyone goes bowling and she joins an old people bowling league.
  • She learns to knit just for the irony. Everyone gets scarves, sweaters, and blankets every birthday and Christmas.
  • Always loses her umbrella and buys new ones, so she owns like 20+ umbrellas.
  • She always says shit like “these damn kids with their new age hippity hop music,” but she’s actually super up with the times and is considered “cool” by many of the local high schoolers.
  • Whenever a new family moves in near them, she’ll either bring them cookies and welcome them to the neighborhood or wait until they come to her, dress in all black, and imply that she murdered her first three husbands and participates in witchcraft. The neighborhood has very mixed feelings about her. 
Found What I Need

Originally posted by malfoypotterpoems

Characters: Y/n, Draco, Neville

Pairing: Draco x Y/n (GENDER NEUTRAL)

Word count: 1672

Warnings: Angst, death of family member, sadness, little bit of fighting, comforting, fluff.

Summary: Draco notices the sadness in Y/n’s eyes, even when no one else does. 

A/N: This was a request from anon​ - Sooo I might totes wanna request a Draco x Hufflepuff!male reader ;v; The reader being a very outgoing, short, slightly chubby and uplifting person. The reader is also close friends with Neville, I’m a sucker for angst and fluff so combining those things would be perf too. Made it gender neutral and didn’t do the whole chubby short appearance, cos I never really use descriptions when it comes to the reader. Hope u don’t mind!! And hope u like it!

Tagged Peeps: @lucifer-in-leather@cubs2019-blog 


“Neville! Wait up!”

You ran to him, holding your books tight to your chest as he smiled back at you.

“Hey, y/n”, Neville greeted, sounding…strange.

You, of course, noticed it.

Neville was your best friend.

Sure, he might have been clumsy, forgetful and just downright ditzy. But he was your best friend.

He had been since you started at Hogwarts.

So you knew when he wasn’t feeling well, or when something was on his mind.

And right now, he definitely had something that was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your tone practically demanding an answer from him, yet still comforting.

That’s what you were like. Everyone knew you as the cheery one. The optimist. The uplifting one.

Hell, you even tried to help out Slytherin’s when they needed it.

You were outgoing and tried to be there for everyone whenever they needed someone to talk to, even if they weren’t the type most people thought deserved any sympathy.

But Neville was still your best friend and you’d get to the bottom of this.

He sighed, feeling your stare, his shoulders dropping as he played with his robe.

“I…uh…I lost my wand”, he mumbled, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as he avoided your eyes.

You smiled at his cuteness, nudging him with your shoulder as you pushed him forward.

“Come on, moron. Time to hunt for a wand”, you said dramatically, making a small laugh escape Neville.

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Young Justice Batmom: Part 4

Prompt: Batmom in the young Justice universe

words: 918

AN: I love diving into this universe. This first part is a little short, but the next parts will be longer. Thanks to my wonderful Beta’s who are plowing through my stories!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You stare at Bruce, arms crossed over your chest and ask, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Starting a new team based on lies?”

          Bruce just smirks, the cowl hiding his eyes, “Are you sure wearing that bathing suit around me is a good idea? You do remember what happened last time you wore it, don’t you?”

          You do your best to beat down the blush fighting to make its way to your cheeks, “I went to the beach with the kids today,” You shrug, “I just haven’t changed yet,” You clear your throat, “Don’t you have a city to patrol?”

          He just grins, gives you a quick kiss, and makes his way to the Zeta tubes. The mountain is quiet. You busy yourself with making a batch of cookies for when the kids get back before settling on the couch with paperwork.

          While it’s certainly not your favorite thing to do, it does need to be done. You’re immersed in reports and numbers, when chattering reaches your ears. There’s an exclamation of, “I smell cookies,” And then everyone is in the kitchen. Well almost everyone. The team is too caught up in their recent success to notice you slip out and back onto the beach.

          She’s standing there, her boots in the sand, her fingers playing with the string of her bow. She’s the outsider in a group that’s been together for a while now. She’s seen as a replacement, by the team and by herself. You can see through the bravado there.

          You have shorts on over you bathing suit, still not having bothered to change. You kick your flip flops off and stick your feet in the water, finally gaining her attention. You give her a small smile, “There are cookies in there if you want one.”

          “Not a big sweets person,” She mumbles.

          You nod, “Batman wasn’t either. Then he tried my chocolate chip cookies and the rest is history. Not that I’m bragging or anything.”

          Her lips quirk into a smile, “I can’t see batman eating cookies.”

          You smile, “Don’t tell anyone but he’s more cookie monster than bat.”

          Her grin fades a bit, “Don’t worry I can keep a secret.”

          You nod, “I know you can Artemis. But sometimes it helps to talk about those secrets. Especially with someone who already knows,” Her eyes go wide, and you step in front of her, “I get it, I do. My husband is Batman, my son is Robin, and I’ve been trusted with the secret identities of almost every other superhero there is. And now I have to keep my identity a secret. Not going to lie, I threw a fit about that one. Anyways, having someone you can talk to helps. So, if you need a confidant, I’m here,” You place a hand on her shoulder and smile as you look her in the eyes, “It’s part of my description as batmom.”

          She laughs a bit at that, before nodding, “Not right now … but maybe later … if I need it.”

          You give her your card and say, “Anytime Artemis, day or night.”

          She goes in ahead of you and you wait a moment before following her. Something isn’t sitting right with you and you don’t like it. The Zeta tube delivers you in time to watch Roy confront your newest cub and you don’t like it.

          You wait for her to walk away before exiting. He doesn’t run, he just stares you down. Or tries to anyway. You win that battle hands down. After years of marriage to Bruce, it would have been disgraceful if you hadn’t.

          You’re shorter than him, and you can’t help but miss the good old days when this kid was smaller than you, “I see you’ve entered your teenage angst phase,” He just looks away and that makes you the tiniest bit angry, “Don’t you look away from me Roy Harper, I’ve known you since your voice began to change.”

          “So you’re taking her side too, huh?”

          You cross your arms over your chest, “She needs someone, just like you needed someone all those years ago Roy. When you and Ollie were still adjusting to each other. I still have all those old emails you know. The ones where you’d rant about him being a womanizing jackass.”

          “He doesn’t take me seriously!”

          You smile at that and say, “I don’t take you seriously Roy. That’s what happens when you’re an adult. You watch kids grow up, but every time you see them you see this little kid who used to hang on you every word, and who would beg for cookies. A little kid, whose arrow wouldn’t even make it a foot without dropping.”

          His frown intensifies, “That’s how you see me?”

          You smile and nod, “Yeah, I see you as that adorable little boy who’d keep me company while the leaguers were in meetings, who helped me bake, the little boy who was around even before Robin was.” You ruffle his hair and surprisingly enough he doesn’t protest it. You let out a sigh, “You haven’t let me ruffle your hair since you turned thirteen. Thanks.” You turn to walk away but stop. Turning to him one last time you say, “My email is still the same by the way.”

          He vanishes a moment later, as Dick steps out of the phone booth with a smile. You wrap an arm around your son’s shoulders and listen to him tell you about saving Wayne Tech.

Random Drabble #5: Payback

Originally posted by svnteen-idiots

Title: Payback

Random Matchup: Mingyu | Your Brothers Best Friend

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: God I just love Meanie so much I had to make you Wonwoo’s sister sorry, not sorry lol 

Send me two number between 1 and 26 and I will make a drabble from it.

“Y/n!” you heard your older brother yelling as you set down your luggage. Looking up at the door to your brothers small home as he swung it open, him practically running towards you arms open.

“WONWOO!” you smile as you both embrace each other excitedly. “I have missed you so much, brother.”

He chuckles as he rests his chin on your head, “I have missed you too little sis, I can’t wait to have you living with me again. It’s been too long.”

You and Wonwoo have always been close, he always took good care of you since you were young since your father left your mom when you were a baby, she had to work hard to get the bills paid so once he was old enough Wonwoo pretty much raised you while she was away.

Then she got sick, Wonwoo was 18 and you were 14. She passed away not too long afterwards. Your grandmother took you both in until Wonwoo went off to college, and he picked the farthest one away from you.

At first, you were angry, how were you supposed to deal with everything by yourself. He didn’t have the money to come back for holidays so it had been a long three years that you had been apart. Of course, you skyped and snap chatted but you missed him.

As soon as you graduated high school you applied for the college he went to, and luckily you got accepted. So here you were at the house he and a few of his friends had bought to live in. He was hesitant at first because you would be the only girl, but you both knew you couldn’t afford to live in the dorms, nor did either of you really want you living there, so finally he agreed.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, “It really has.” He looked the same, but slightly taller even though you had grown quite a bit since he last saw you in person.

“You look too old, you have grown into a woman, I am worried,” he said has he takes a step back and looks at you. “My friends better keep their hands off you. Ah! Speaking of which you probably want to meet them, follow me!” he said as he helped you with your bags.

Walking into the house, it is fairly clean much to your surprise. You expected it to be like one of those movies where the guy’s clothes were everywhere and the place, in general, was trashed.

You could hear music being played somewhere down the hallways as you followed Wonwoo to your new room.

“I apologise if it isn’t clean, our previous roommate, Seungcheol had a tendency to be messy,” he said as he chuckled, opening the door to a small bedroom that would work perfectly for you. A small desk huddled in the corner and a twin size bed waiting to be slept on.

Setting down your bag on the bed you turn to your brother. “It doesn’t look messy to me, this will work fine.”

Wonwoo nodded and opened his mouth to speak when suddenly someone else spoke up.

“Yah, Wonwoo is your sister here yet I’m starving..,” a tall man mumbled as he looked over at you his eyes grew wide for a moment before he smiled sheepishly, “ah, sorry you must be y/n.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you always hungry, introduce yourself correctly don’t be rude to my sister.”

The man smirked, rolling his eyes as he turned back to you. “I am Mingyu, I am 20, and I am majoring in music.” He stopped and chuckled, “Actually, all of us that are living here are majoring in music, just different parts of it.” He leant against the doorframe as he looked at Wonwoo and then back at you.

“Nice to meet you Mingyu, you already know my name, I am majoring in dance, sorry to ruin the trend.”

He smirked, “You dance? Your brother failed to mention that about the many amounts of things he says about you,” he said as he looked over at Wonwoo who was shaking his head.

“Mingyu, enough. Quit flirting with my sister, remember I will end you,” Wonwoo says as he pretends to get into a boxing stance, which caused Mingyu to laugh.

“You really can’t be intimidating,” Mingyu laughed more when Wonwoo tries to punch him, but Mingyu moves out of the way and your brother misses.

As you watch the two bicker back and forth you remember how much Wonwoo always talked about Mingyu when you skyped. He said that Mingyu was his best friend and was like the brother he never had. Seeing them in person made you realise that they really were close, which made you happy to know that Mingyu had found someone he could be close to like that.

“Don’t you think you should introduce your sister to Woozi and DK too?” Mingyu said as he looked at you, his eyes roaming your body before focusing on your face.

Wonwoo smacked Mingyu in the face causing him to look back at him. “Quit eye fucking my sister!” Wonwoo hissed at Mingyu, soft enough that he thought you couldn’t hear but you did.

They both turned to look at you as Wonwoo smiled widely. “Let me go introduce you to Woozi and DK, our other two friends,” he said as he grabbed your hand and led you out to the hallway, Mingyu following you and closing your door.

You glanced back at him to see him looking at you again, his eyes darting up to meet yours, a smirk spread across his lips as his placed his finger on his lips as if to tell you not to tell Wonwoo he had been staring at you again.

The first half of your first year was already over and Christmas was just a few days away. Most of the campus was empty of students as most have gone home to see their families for the holidays.

You walked into the empty buildings as you made your way to the dance studio to find it empty as usual. You had really been enjoying having it to yourself with no one else to interrupt your practice. As you sat your bag down you shot a quick text to your brother letting him know where you were at just in case he needed to find you.

An hour later you were dancing to a hip hop song that you loved. Hitting the moves in sync with the beat when you noticed someone dressed in black skinny jeans, a white hat and a hoodie with the hood pulled up walk in. You stopped and turned, “Ah! Sorry, did you need the studio?”

The person walked closer and shook their head, “No I just came to watch,” they said.

You tilted your head to the side, “Mingyu?” You said as you realised that voice instantly.

He sighed and nodded. “Keep going I just wanted to watch is all, I have never gotten the chance to watch you dance.”

You nodded and turned around and kept dancing for a while longer before laying on the floor exhausted. “Ugh that last one wore me out,” you said with a smile.

He chuckled as he stood up and walked over and looked down at you. “It doesn’t look that hard.

You rolled your eyes. “Like you would know Mr Music Major.”

You both laughed together when he sat next to you, “I was surprised you told me you were here. I didn’t know you wanted me to know that kind of stuff.”

“What?” then you stopped and thought about it, “agh! That was meant for Wonwoo! I am sorry!” you said as you covered your face in embarrassment.

He laughed, “I figured, I was just teasing you. I texted Wonwoo and let him know I would pick you up and bring you home safely,” he said as he smirked looking down at you before he laid down on his side and faced you.

“Jesus, did you really word it like that?” you said as you turned your face to the side to look at him.

“Not exactly, but close to it,” he said as his eyes roamed your body again before he looked back up at your face. “You’re a really good dancer, actually you are an amazing dancer.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah right. I am not that good, there are people here who are leaps and bounds better than I am.”

He frowned as you went to sit up when suddenly he pushed himself up and on top of you, pinning you in between his legs.

He leant over and looked at you as he let his hands hold him up his eyes looking at your face, before looking down at your lips, as he bit his own bottom lip. “Don’t say that, you are an amazing dancer y/n.”

Your words were silent as you nodded, looking up at him.

He chuckled as he watched a slight blush spread across your cheeks as he leans his face closer to you whispering softly, “I know your brother said I couldn’t like you, but you make it really hard not to with that dancing of yours.”

“I am sorry?” you said it as a question, still curious as to why he was acting like this suddenly.

“You should be,” he said darkly, biting his lower lip again making your head spin.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, the both of you have been stealing glances at each other for months, grazing each other as you passed one another in the hallway. Waiting for the other to make a move.

But you knew it would never happen, mostly because of your brother, god dammit why did he have to be so protective of you.

Looking up at him you wanted to kiss him, so bad, but held back, knowing it wasn’t a good idea.

Both of you stayed like this in silent for a moment longer before he sighs and stands up. “We should probably get you home, but promise me you won’t tell him about this okay,” he said with a wink as he held out his hand to help you up.

“Uh, yeah. I won’t tell him,“ you say out loud. ‘you know what, fuck it’ you thought as you bit your lower lip before starting to speak again "but only if you promise not to tell him about this.”

You take his hand and stand up, adrenaline causing you to crash into his chest, kissing him quickly before stepping away and walking over to your dance bag, smirking back at him.

This time he was silent, his mouth open as he watched you grab your dance bag.

You laughed as you walked back over to him and whispered in his ear, “Payback.”

He smirked as he nodded, “Are you sure you really want to start this game? What if your brother catches us?”

You shrug. “Then he will accept it and deal with it,” you say as you walk out the door.

Mingyu follows you as you both stay silent until you exit the building into the cold air. He smirks over at you and finally speaks, “Fair enough, let the games begin.”


@-happytbh-  Ty

Tattoos: Remastered

If asked, Jinki would tell you he’d been cursed with his tattoo at the age of 16 and his life seemed to have gone downhill from there. Ever since that fateful day, he couldn’t make heads or tales of the marking. Jinki sat in front of his birthday cake—his 16th, the “coming of age,”—and he knew that as soon as the clock struck midnight, the first words spoken to him by his soulmate would appear somewhere on his body, as it had for everyone else.

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Que Pasa Culata de Azucar?

Summary: Jake learns Spanish and does not immediately tell Amy. “Congratulations. It only took you 10 years to learn the language your partner speaks.”

Thank you @cats-sarcasm-and-fandoms for the translations!

Amy is the kind of girl who went to college despite knowing she would be pursuing a career in law enforcement. She loved to learn; so, not only did she graduate summa cum laude but she double majored in Art History and Classics. On top of English, Spanish and a smattering of textbook-perfect french, Amy could read and write in greek, latin and hebrew.

It was sort of embarrassing.

Yesterday, he couldn’t figure how to fix the remote for his television so he ended up watching the Young and the Restless for four hours on his day off.

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Rockabye (2) - Jackson

Originally posted by jackseunie

pairing: jackson x reader
rating: mature
genre: angst, romance, smut
warnings: alcohol mention, ‘exotic’ dancing
total word count: 3079
summary: life isn’t easy being a single parent, especially such a young one. but you do your best to make him happy and make sure his life is better than yours was, even if that means ‘exotic dancing’. he’s your entire world; the only man you’ll ever need. until you meet a certain idol who changes things almost as much as your son did. 

Part One 

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Plant cultivar names designed by a neural network

My dad is a gardener, so I’ve always been sort of interested/amused by some of the weird names of the plants he grows. As a kid, I used to enjoy flipping through his seed catalogs and finding weird names like “Super Yoga Rose”, “Mrs. Wrinkles”, “Knucklehead”, “Drunken Woman Frizzy Headed”, and “Beefmaster F1″. So I wanted to see if my neural network could learn to generate names of plant varieties.

 I’m not quite done training it, but it’s already come up with some interesting ideas for cultivars (Right now, it’s going through a phase where it really seems to like butts and monkeys?)

  • monkey mostpets
  • quacle cocklon
  • bitle masks
  • butty sales
  • dick chasl winkey
  • vedmerman monkey
  • stanky potketcra
  • alien me
  • sunbloot monkeys monkey
  • monkey monkey
  • sunblaca’s rombles
  • care monkey
  • butt’s’s good
  • hunny ponkey
  • burrito 2
  • beaneatia of frean! fockson
  • ponk
  • pink!
  • mania parenase old butt
  • queef of suplemes
  • sir beefty

Honestly, you could probably convince me that any given one of those was a real type of daylily.

anonymous asked:

Now that you've told us you have wild drunken stories, would you tell us one please? Or maybe incorporate it into an imagine with some of the skelebros? That would be pretty cool

One of my favorite drunken nights was when I went out for drinks with my friend, and we met his aunt/his aunt’s friend.  We ended up at some little hole in the wall bar where it was so packed, that we had to pile on a deck outside.  A dude wearing sunglasses at night came over and started trying to talk to me, but I was too distracted asking “Why the hell are you wearing those at night?  Can you see?  There’s no sun.  Are you high, and you’re trying to hide how red your eyes are?”  And then my friend’s aunt comes over, and she throws her arm around the dude because she’s pretttyyy drunk and starts questioning him about the sunglasses, too.  Then she decides she wants to wear them and throws her arm around me.  

“I wish my boyfriend was here,” she says, sighing loudly.  

My friend comes over and claims that her boyfriend is not an attractive man.  

“Yeah, okay, so he’s bald.. he’s short.. he’s fat.. Fine.  But he has a HUGE DICK!”  She holds out her arms to give me an idea of the inhumanly-possible size of said dick.

“A big dong, you say?” I chime, and my friend starts shaking his head, trying to get me to stop from encouraging her.

“BIG DONG KONG!” she shouts as loud as she can, while my friend desperately tries to shush his aunt.  

“BIG DONG SCHLONG!” I yell back, and the two of us high-five.  This is the first conversation I’ve ever had with this 50-year-old woman, but we’re instantly best friends in that moment.  

We leave and go to a honky tonk–like right out of one of those movies about the South, where people are wearing cowboy hats and drinking and dancing that I thought were a myth.  My friend and I are the youngest people there by nearly thirty years.  All the older women LOVE him; he’s dancing with them and grinding on them, and they’re ARGUING over who gets to dance with him next.  It’s crazy.  I end up buying JAEGER BOMBS (yes, you have to shout it as loud as you can when you order it, in the douchiest voice possible) with the aunt, and we start knocking them back.  I dance for entirely too long, and at the time, I think I’m just the best dancer ever, but I’m pretty sure I was just kicking my legs out and flailing around in a circle.  I end up with a cowboy hat at some point during the night.

The aunt and her friend join me on the dance floor, and we order more shots.  In fact, I’m feeling so wonderful that I order shots FOR THE ENTIRE BAR.   I guess I’ve just secretly always wanted to shout “A ROUND OF SHOTS FOR EVERYONE, ON ME!” at the top of my lungs, who knows.  

It’s closing time, and my friend (the designated driver in this situation), takes his aunt and her friend home, but we all go into the apartment.  Her boyfriend is inside, and she throws herself against him, but ends up in the floor because she’s just too drunk.

I decide to shake his hand and introduce myself.


Nailed it.  The aunt writhes on the floor, but points toward me to say, “PREACH IT!”

This little man doesn’t know what to say.  "Big Dong Kong, I heard all about it.  Like a kick-stand, AMIRITE?“  I pat the bewildered man on the shoulder and move past him to head toward the bathroom.  However, I stop short and turn back toward my friend, standing on my tip-toes to whisper in his ear.  

(Which probably means I yelled it.)

“I don’t want to use their toilet because what if his dick is SO MASSIVE that it touched the seat??”

My other favorite story I’ll incorporate into an imagine.

You were already drunk off a pitcher of margaritas and free birthday tequila shots from the Mexican restaurant down the street by the time you reach your hotel’s bar, flanked by your best friend.  You’re wearing a giant, gaudy pin on your shirt that reads “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” because 1) it really is your birthday and 2) it guarantees that you and your friend will drink for free all night.  

When you sit down on a bar stool, two skeleton monsters automatically sit next to you and start chatting.  One of them, with red eyes and a fluffy jacket, has a smirk on his face as his eyelights travel your body.  He’s been nice enough so far, so when he gets ready to leave, he says, “i’m going to a strip club.  would you like to join me, sweetheart?”

“I’ve never been to a strip club!” you blurt, seeming excited over the idea… until your survival instincts kick in.  "WAIT, I KNOW WHAT THIS IS!“

”…what?“ he asks, his smirk beginning to fade.

"THIS IS WHERE I’LL EITHER END UP SOME SORT OF SEX SLAVE OR MURDERED AND CHOPPED UP IN YOUR TRUNK!”  At this point, the bartender is doubled over laughing.  You have no volume control.  

“what–?  no, sweetheart, i just–”  He stumbles over the words, completely caught off-guard.

“NOPE, NO WAY, I’M NOT DYING TONIGHT SIR!”  You keep drinking your drink.  "Thanks for paying for my drink, though.“  Well, at least you still have manners, even if you’re slurring.

Red shrugs, holding his hands up.  "sounds like you’ve been watching too many horror movies, dollface.  welp, if you change your mind, i’m in room two-oh-”

“I do NOT sleep with MURDERERS!”


“Serial killers are a definite NO for me!”  

“ok, ok.  happy birthday,” he mutters, slowly getting off the stool to leave.  As soon as he does, a skeleton wearing an orange hoodie takes his place.

“good to know you have standards.”  He flicks his wrist at the bar tender.  "her next drink is on me.“

You’re eyeing the giant ass jar of cocktail olives instead of paying him any attention.  "I really want an olive in my drink…”

“but.. you’re drinking something fruity, right?”

You nod.  "Sex on the beach.“

"yeaaahh, olives don’t go with that.”

You start frowning, still staring down those olives.  "Who says it has to be like that?  I want olives in it.“

"you can’t drink it with olives.  it would be terrible.”

“Yes, I can!”

“fine, if you can, i’ll buy you another drink.”

You look to the bartender, and she shrugs and pulls out the jar of giant olives. “Just dump them in,” you say, and she absolutely FILLS UP YOUR GLASS with olives.  And dammit, you eat every single one of them.

“i can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

And then you don’t remember anything else.

*The rest of that story includes blacking out after the olives, and then I wake up in the hotel room, in a completely different set of clothes (apparently, I filled the ice bucket up with water and then poured it over my head), with my head on the toilet seat (vomit everywhere), tears on my face, and my phone in my hand.  Apparently, I’d been having a nightmare about the two men shoving me in their trunk, and then I called my S/O and whispered “I’m so scared, please come get me” over and over into the phone.  He said that gave him nightmares, and he had to call my friend to make sure that I was all right. 

It was years before I drank again.  

Steggy Week 2017: Librarian AU

You read books and nursery rhymes at the library for children and I take my child there and your voice is lovely and you’re lovely, can we have a date? AU

The weather that week had been terrible. Steve had been hoping to spend Saturday in the park, maybe having a picnic and teaching Sarah how to play baseball. Instead, he was walking, hand by hand, with his daughter to the library. Little Sarah always skipped the white tiles at the entrance, making a funny skipping dance all the way to the main staircase. The children’s section was located on the first floor, isolated by columns of books and floor to ceiling glass doors.

“Daddy! Hurry up!”, Sarah said as she tried to drag her father into the big colourful rug in the centre of the children area. “Miss Peggy will be here soon and I want to be her helper!”

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