where's the bathroom

okay, one more thing.

The intent of anti-trans “bathroom bills” is not to make trans women use men’s rooms, or to make trans men use women’s rooms.  No one really wants that.  No one is even trying to pretend that things would be okay if we used the “correct” bathrooms but still dressed and acted like ourselves.

The intent of these bills is to drive trans people out of the public space entirely.

let’s be clear about that.

Roommates AU

In which Draco sits on the couch and Harry walks past him and Draco’s head snaps up, because he *knows* that scent. And Draco gets so P I S S E D because, “Potter! Do you have any idea how expensive that shampoo is! It’s custom-made! And here you are, wasting it on that untamable mop of yours!” Also, there’s this other minor detail. Of course, Draco couldn’t care less about it, but… now Potter doesn’t smell like Potter anymore and… wait, did he just say that out loud? Well shit!

After that, Draco gets flustered on a daily basis.

“Potter, why are you standing so close to me? We’re doing the dishes, there’s no need for your arm to touch mine.”

“Potter, if you want to read the paper, wait your turn, don’t read it over my shoulder.”

“Potter, stay on your side of the couch!”

Of course, Harry doesn’t. And eventually, Draco stops complaining. Well, he doesn’t exactly stop complaining…

“Potter, my skin is all chafed because of your stubble.”

“Potter, do it harder for Merlin’s sake!”

“Potter, what is it with you and cuddling?”

“Potter, where are you going? Take me with you?”

And they lived happily ever after.

Modern Greek Mythology

 Hestia comforts the children of broken homes, she appears to them as a school councilor that always has cookies. They cry in her arms, and she lets them stay with her for as long as she can. She stopped calling home, stopped making strongly worded comments to the parents. All there is left are broken homes and suffering children.

 Hera sits next to her sister, holds her hand and thinks about the broken marriages that lead to broken homes. She listens to the couples yelling at each other while she walks on the streets. She holds the crying women, she listens to the hopeless men. All of the power that a goddess of marriage possesses cannot help the people who were betrayed by their closest ones.

 After a long day, Demeter sits on the ground in her garden, holds a cup of tea in hands that have dirt all over them. She wishes that more people would remember what is under all of the concrete. She feels the dying of her world, and curses those who do not care for it.

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little under-appreciated peridot moments that i love
  • “IS THIS YOUR BIZARRE ICON??!??!?!?!!?!?!” (holds up image of a crying waffle)
  • “the fusion experiments are developing properly….a few have even emerged early-EYOOHA
  • That little noise she makes in that moment in Catch and Release where she’s in the bathroom yelling at the Crystal Gems and she’s lying down on top of the towel bar holding a plunger and she almost slips
  • (Steven: I know you use my tooth brush!) “n….no……..well, Yes-”
  • (voice cracking immensely) I h A V EN>T  Cr A C K ED!!!!1
  • when she keeps holding the drill the wrong way in Back To The Barn
  • the one scene that she has in Steven’s Birthday
  • the face she makes in It Could’ve Been Great when Steven says “Just look at that view”
  • That scene in Message Received when Steven locks her in the car and we see her from inside the car and she looks like this
  • That moment in Log Date 7 15 2 where Garnet catches her wearing the alien boxers and she rips them off in the most dramatic way possible
  • IN GEM DRILL WHEN SHE’S SO CONCERNED ABOUT STEVEN AND HIS WELL BEING THAT SHE STOPS DRILLING THE CLUSTER ALL TOGETHER AND HOLDS HIM AND THAT RELIEVED SMILE SHE DOES WHEN HE WAKES UP FROM TALKING TO THE CLUSTER SHARDS SHE CARES ABOUT HIM SO MUCH I’M GONNA CRY SCOOB
  • W H E N S H E H U G S S T E V E N I N G E M D R I L L
  • That moment in Same Old World where she makes exaggerated sound effects while telling their story about drilling the Cluster
  • Her little hand gestures in Barn Mates
  • The cute little cartoony smile she makes in Barn Mates when Lapis asks her if she’s okay
  • IN HIT THE DIAMOND WHEN SHE’S HIDING UNDER THE BOX AND STEVEN TAKES IT OFF HER AND SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS
  • When she puts the tablet on her arm in Too Short To Ride and it looks like she’s dabbing
  • When she keeps saying “ow” very flatly while Steven and Amethyst are trying to stretch her in Too Short To Ride
  • That lil moment in Beta when she’s talkin all casually about the Beta Kindergarten and she just twirls a tuna can in the air using her metal powers while she talks
  • IN EARTHLINGS WHEN SHE’S TALKIN ABOUT HOW MUCH SHE LOVES EARTH AND IT SET HER FREE
  • In Gem Harvest when she’s trying to get the Pumpkin Dog to say “clod”
  • In Adventures In Light Distortion where’s talkin about how she can change the settings on the Ruby ship and it’s indirectly confirmed that she changed the settings of the entire ship from The Return so it would be green like her
  • The loud yelling she does when she’s levitating the cars in The New Crystal Gems
  • The fact that she can levitate cars in the first place
  • The way she says “Look at it! It’s great!” in The New Crystal Gems while presenting the new car wash sign to Greg
  • The entirety of her role in The New Crystal Gems
  • Her wet hair in Room For Ruby. I legit screamed when I first saw that
  • In Room For Ruby when she rolls around in the dirt with Steven and Navy???? so pure
  • When she tries to console Lapis in Room For Ruby
  • just…her????? i lov peridot so much

nazi: where is the bathroom 

me: right over there *pointing to gates of hell* 

nazi: thank you 

liberal, lurking in shadows: wow. so you just lied to him. that’s not the bathroom. 

10

♪ It’s not difficult to define Miss Douche ♪

hollywoodreporter.com
'Survivor' Contestant Opens Up About Being Outed as Transgender (Guest Column)
"I’m not wild about you knowing that I’m trans," two-time show player Zeke Smith writes for THR about this week's episode.

“I’m not wild about you knowing that I’m trans. An odd sentiment, I realize, for someone who signed up for two seasons of the CBS reality giant, Survivor. See, when I got on a plane to Fiji last March, I expected to get voted out third. I’d return home, laugh at my misadventure, and go about my life, casually trans in the same way that Zac Efron is casually Jewish.

I knew that Varner’s actions, though targeted at me, had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him. His terrible utterances were not an effect of my actions, but a reflection of his own personal maladies.

But in calling me deceptive, Varner invoked one of the most odious stereotypes of transgender people, a stereotype that is often used as an excuse for violence and even murder. In proclaiming “Zeke is not the guy you think he is” and that “there is deception on levels y’all don’t understand,” Varner is saying that I’m not really a man and that simply living as my authentic self is a nefarious trick. In reality, by being Zeke the dude, I am being my most honest self — as is every other transgender person going about their daily lives.

I don’t believe Varner hates trans people, just as I don’t believe conservative politicians who attack trans people actually care where we use the bathroom. For both, trans people make easy targets for those looking to invoke prejudice in order to win votes. Thankfully, my tribemates rebuffed his hateful tactics. After 18 days starving and competing with me, they knew exactly the man I am, and after that Tribal Council, we all knew exactly the man Varner is.”

Read Zeke’s full essay here <– Not optional, READ IT! 

This extended essay is insightful and heartfelt, touching and profound. READ IT READ IT READ IT. Thank you.


(Zimbits, slight AU, 2.8K, under a cut because it got long.)

They asked him every year. Sometimes, even more than once a year if he wanted to be on Samwell’s promotional material.

Jack said no every time because he really didn’t have any interest in having his face plastered on billboards and on every brochure and course calendar they handed out to students, both prospective and current. He’d had enough secondhand publicity from his parents’ careers and he wasn’t going to go seeking it out while he was at Samwell.

The only allowance he made was when he was photographed with the rest of the hockey team because he understood that hockey was a big selling point when it came to convincing people to attend their school. One of the team photos was enlarged and put up in the sports complex, right between the women’s volleyball team and Samwell’s dance team. It had already gotten vandalized this year by some drunk LAX bros and had to be replaced (which the university was not happy about and last Jack heard, the bros responsible were on suspension from the team).

The university couldn’t get Jack, but they got Ransom and Holster to agree to photos other than the team one. There were some of them pretending to study in the library, or looking happy and not-stressed as they socialized. These ended up on the cover of last year’s Campus Life magazine and both Holster and Ransom both joked that they were wasting their time at school when they should be modelling instead. It still didn’t stop the recruitment team from continually asking Jack who refused to change his mind.

Little did he know it was about to be changed for him.

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Mister Hockey and the boy crying in the kitchen


Here’s the first part of a fic- AU where Bitty and Jack meet for the first time at the EpicKegster. 

Note that the second part of this is not written yet, and I’m crushed under my to-do list, so don’t expect it soon and please don’t ask when the next part will come, I don’t know. But I wanted to share this with y’all, so I hope you enjoy. 

I apologise for errors, typos or weird sentence structure, all my editing power is and will be concentrated on my own novel, so ha. 

pairings and warnings: pretty much what you get from the canon





Jack went down the stairs with a huff of annoyance. The first floor of the Haus was packed from wall to wall. Loud thumping music, laughter and yells that were barely tolerable from his room now seemed almost tangible, crushing him from all sides. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache.

He pushed his way through and managed to reach the kitchen unscathed. Only three guys were sitting at the table, loudly debating Plato’s cavern versus the Matrix, and another was leaning on the counter near the stove, muttering to himself.

Jack opened a cupboard, swore under his breath when he saw that it was empty of their usual mugs, glasses and bottles. He took a new red solo cup from the enormous pack available to all, and filled it with tap water, trying to ignore the guys at the table.

‘…aren’t you the most precious thing, baby…’

Jack turned around. The guy next to the oven was muttering endearments with a southern drawl- but there was no one next to him. He wasn’t even holding his phone.

Jack had a doubt. Was the guy talking to him?

‘Yes, you are lovely, a bit old, but I would love you, and take care of you, and create glorious things with you, oh sweetheart, if only…’

The guy was not talking to Jack. He was talking to the oven.

He was also, apparently, completely drunk.

‘… better things than pizza rolls, you can be sure of that, you sexy thing…’

Jack was a moment away from heading back to his room when he heard a sob.

‘… but it’s not to be, pretty thing, you and I will have to go our own separate ways and- sniffle- get with our own lonely lives and - oh lord, I’m being ridiculous-’

‘Huh-’ started Jack. ‘Are you okay?’

The guy turned around. He looked older than Jack expected. At least, he seemed to be over eighteen. Jack only had an impression of eyes and blond before he got the drunkest and fakest smile he ever saw in his life.

‘HI!’ said the boy. ‘Gosh, you’re big.’

‘… are you okay?’ repeated Jack.

‘Why, yes, of course! I’m peachy!’

‘You’re crying.’

The guy seemed surprised by this fact. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and made a dismissive gesture with his other hand.

‘Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I’m being silly.’

‘…You were crying,’ insisted Jack. ‘And talking to the oven.’

‘Well, no one else seemed to give her love, so I figured-’

He stopped himself and looked at Jack.

‘You’re the Captain of the hockey team,’ he realised. ‘This is your house. This is your oven.’

‘…Yes? In a manner of speaking?’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The OVEN,’ insisted the guy.

‘She- it doesn’t have a name?’

‘Blasphemy. If I had the chance to own such a lovely baby, I would name her something adorable! Like Daisy, or Betsy, and I would bake everyday, I would make pies and cookies and biscuits and-’

He burst into tears.

Jack threw a look around. The guys at the table were staring at them.

‘Dude, what’d’you do to him?’

‘Nothing!’

‘D’you break up with him or something?’

‘No! We just met! He was talking about the oven- and then- and then-’

He made a helpless motion towards the crying boy.

‘Maybe you should do something about it?’ suggested one of them.

‘Like what?’

‘Dunno. Something. To make him stop crying.’

Jack hesitated. He thought about retreating to the safety of his room, where the music didn’t hurt his ears and blonde strangers didn’t burst into tears at the sight of a kitchen appliance.

Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and patted the guy’s shoulder.

‘…there, there,’ he muttered, feeling like the most ridiculous man on Earth.

He got several thumbs ups from the table residents. Which didn’t help his predicament at all. The boy was still crying.

‘Hey, hey, shh, don’t cry, everything is going to be okay…’

‘You don’t know that!’ wailed the blonde boy.

‘Okay, you’re right. Maybe, huh, what could make it right?’

‘I want to BAAAAAAAAAKE!’

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Archie Andrews Imagine

“I Hate Parties”

Summary: Betty and Veronica were always dragging you out to parties, the only thing that makes this one any better is the arrival of the one and only Archie Andrews.

Word count: 3030

a/n: It’s way longer than I thought it was gonna be but what the heck. Sorry if it sucks but I suck so it’s appropriate.

Parties had never really been your thing. Like you liked going out sometimes, and every once in a while you would be in the mood to dance, but after a while it just felt boring. Every time you got ready on Friday nights with Betty and Veronica you would be excited; ‘This time will be different,’ you’d think to yourself. But time after time it would end up the same way with the same house of people dancing to the same music and playing the same game of beer pong. Tonight was no exception.

“Can we leave yet?” you yelled over the booming bass to B and V, trailing behind them.

Veronica turned her head to answer you, “Okay, we literally, and I mean literally, just walked in. You haven’t even had time to get bored yet!” She pushed through the crowd and led the trio to the bar in the corner of the room. “So,” she turned to you and Betty with 3 shot glasses, “shots anyone?”

You rolled your eyes and looked to Betty for a go/no-go. “I’m convinced that you have some sort of radar or sonar or something when it comes to finding alcohol” Betty joked back.

“It’s residual from my days in New York,” she said handing each of you a shot glass. “Gentlemen, to our wives and girlfriends,” she started the usual toast looking at the two of you expectantly. You turned you Betty and completed it simultaneously laughing, “May they never meet” and downed the shot, feeling the vodka burn all the way down your throat. You weren’t a huge fan of alcohol, yet another reason parties weren’t your favorite place, but being drunk was fun sometimes. Since it was the getting drunk that was the annoying part, you generally stuck to vodka. You preferred its nail polish remover taste that could get the job done faster to the slow-working, carbonated urine formally known as beer.

Just then, the music changed to “Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE, a song that was notoriously Betty’s jam. Her eyes widened and she jumped up in down in excitement. “We have to dance!” she squealed pulling your and Veronica’s wrists toward the dance floor.

“I think I’m gonna sit this one out guys,” you explained trying to get out of this inevitable public display of embarrassment.

“What, you don’t dance Chad Danforth?” Veronica teased in a very Veronica-esque way. Betty chimed in, “Because we all know how that ends, Chad dances with Ryan like the whole time”.

“It’s not that I’m too good to dance, it’s just I’m not drunk yet enough to dance”

That must have been an acceptable answer because Betty simply pointed at you and began to back away with Veronica in tow with a “Hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swang,” to which you yelled back over the growing crowd with your hands cupped around your mouth, “I’ve got to just do my thang!”

B and V faded behind an ocean of people and you were alone. Just you and the vodka. Speaking of the vodka…

You turned to the bar and poured yourself another shot and stuck your tongue out at the offensive taste. You poured some coke into a red solo cup and started to walk away then thought better. You turned around and poured some more vodka in with the coke. What? It was gonna be a long night.

You made your way through the room, deliberately avoiding the table with the jungle juice and found a dimly lit corner to lean in.

I wonder where Archie is right now? It’s not like he normally hangs out with us at parties anyway. Since they always happen after football games he usually hangs out with the rest of the team, but you were curious. You would never admit it to anyone, not even Betty or Veronica and especially not to Archie, but you’d had feelings for him for quite some time. There were times when you wanted to tell him about it, he was one of your friends after all, but you truly felt that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“You like hanging out in dark corners, loner?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You could identify that voice anywhere: the one and only Archie Andrews.

“You like staring into dark corners, creeper?” you shot back.

Archie chuckled and approached with open arms for a friendly hug. “Hey y/n,”

“Hey Tom Brady, great game.” You pulled out from the hug but stayed standing close to him to be able to hear each other over the loud music.

He smiled, “It wasn’t exactly the Super Bowl, but thank you. So, what are you drinking?” He plucked the plastic cup out of your hand. “This isn’t the jungle juice, is it?” he questioned with a slightly alarmed but mostly joking tone. Reggie’s jungle juice was pretty famous, or more accurately infamous.

“God no,” you shook your head, “It’s just coke.”

“Good. Stay away from the jungle juice.” He took a sip and did a bit of a spit take into a nearby plant overdramatically. He looked at you with a faux-shocked expression. “Just coke, huh y/n?”

“Just coke as in mostly coke. As in there’s slightly more coke than vodka.”

“Alcohol’s illegal for people our age you know,” he warned just before he drank half of the cup’s contents.

You narrowed your eyes and leaned toward him as if trying to get a better look, “Why, you a cop?”

He glanced around, checking that the imaginary coast was clear before he leaned in. “You ever seen 21 Jump Street?”

“Ah,” you nodded.

“Yeah.” He said with a laugh, straightening his back and returned the cup to your hand. You thought his hand had lingered for a second touching yours; you were probably just imagining it. You had to be imagining it, but the moment was over before you could really be sure.

“Uh,” you tried to regain your composure. “Betty and Veronica were in the other room dancing the last time I saw them,” You offered figuring this had to be his destination. You were friends/friendly with him but they were all really close. The only reason you even knew Archie in the first place is because you had become good friends with the girls.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Okay.” He blinked at you and didn’t move. You tried to suppress the smile that was threatening to show itself. Maybe he was here for you. The electronic music blared on and you scanned the room, looking for nothing in particular in an attempt to make yourself busy, or at least make yourself look busy. The house was filled to the brim with a mix of people, some you knew, some you didn’t. People were singing and dancing and yelling and drinking and smoking and—okay, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Archie was still looking at you! You could feel his eyes on you from the side.

You glanced at him and couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. He was just smiling down at you like a fool. “Is… is there something I can do for you Mr. Andrews?”

He smirked, keeping a laugh to himself, “No, it’s just,” he shook his head looking down at his feet. “Nah, never mind.”

“Oh, come on! What? Do I have something on my face? Is my hair messed up?” You ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix any possible issues.

“No, you look great. I was uh,” he looked back up at you. “It was just that you looked really cute.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked off to the rest of the party, the flashing lights washing his face with a blue and red light, hitting his cheekbones in just the right way to leave a shadow in the hollows of his cheeks. It wasn’t until that moment that you really noticed how close he was standing to you. He was at max 6 inches from you; he could lean forward the tiniest bit and kiss you (if he were so inclined). It all felt too good to be true. He had to be drunk or something.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Just the sip of your ‘mostly coke’. Why?”

For some reason this answer bothered you more than if he had been drunk. The fact that he called you ‘cute’ while being almost completely sober was, as far as you could tell, reason for alarm. “Let’s go find some drinks.” Frankly, you needed another one.

You grabbed him by the wrist so you wouldn’t lose him in the crowd and began to push through the mess of sweaty bodies toward the familiar bar. You would have made it too, if it weren’t for the jungle juice. You were walking past the table with the punch bowl of the “juice” on it, the bar was in sight, when some random drunk guy with a cup full of, you guessed it, Reggie’s famous jungle juice rammed into you, spilling the entire contents of the cup all over your shirt. Your mouth hung open and the people around you all gasped.

Archie pushed between you and the guy, “Hey man, why don’t you watch where you’re going?” There was some real anger in his voice, and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty hot.

“Well why don’t you mind your own business?” the guy said getting right in Archie’s face. He opened his mouth to respond but before he could get anything out you put your hand on his shoulder from behind him.

“Archie?”

He looked down at you, clenching his jaw. “C’mon Arch, it’s not worth it.”

He looked back up at the guy for a moment then back down at you. The crowd that had gathered around you all waiting in anticipation for Archie’s response.

He nodded his head, “I know where the bathroom is,” the crowd of people returned to their former activities with sounds of general dismay that there hadn’t been a fight. “Let’s go see what the damage is.” He grabbed your hand in his and led you in the opposite direction as the bar, down a hallway, and into a bathroom.

It was pretty dark in the house so you couldn’t really see how badly it had spilled on your shirt yet. Archie closed the door behind you while you felt around on the wall for a light switch. You flipped on the switch and he immediately gasped sharply.

“Is it that bad?” you asked. You couldn’t being yourself to look in the mirror yet.

“No… I mean it’s…” He tried to think of some consolation to give, unsuccessfully. “Yeah, it is that bad.”

You hesitantly turned to face the mirror, squinting enough to delay the inevitable. Your eyes sprung open and you found that yes, it truly was that bad.

“Oh my god.”

“I told you.”

“This shirt ruined! How am I supposed to wear this for the rest of the night?”

“Well, you did say you wanted to find another drink. I guess it found you first,” You looked at him in the mirror and rolled your eyes. “And I did warn you to stay away from the jungle juice” he laughed getting a closer look at the stain.

You turned to him and sighed, “I have to go home. There’s no way I can walk around like this.” You still didn’t like parties, and this was no exception, but you were actually getting to hang out with Archie alone. This was just your luck.

“Take my shirt,” He blurted out, rather loudly.

“Take your shirt? Like the one you’re wearing right now? Arch as much as I’m sure that every girl at this party would love to see you walking around shirtless, neither of us are at that point of drunkenness yet.”

“It’s fine. Even if you’re got my jersey, I’ve still got my letterman,” he countered, already peeling off his jacket and throwing it on the floor. “It’s not like I’ll be completely shirtless.” You thought about this for a moment before hesitantly nodding your head in agreement. You really didn’t want this night to end just yet. Plus, shirtless Archie.

You took off your stained t-shirt and threw it in the trash, no stain remover was powerful enough to work on that jungle juice. You stood awkwardly in just your plain black bra. You definitely had cuter, but you hadn’t planned on anyone, especially not Archie, seeing you shirtless tonight. Archie pulled off his jersey leaving both of you half naked. And let me tell you he was built with a capital B. Just as he was handing you the jersey, the bathroom door flings open. It seems neither of you had remembered to lock it in the chaos of the dark.

Kevin Keller stumbled into the room, clearly at least a little bit intoxicated. It took him a second but when he finally realized what he had walked into, at least what it looked like he had walked into, his eyes widened dramatically taking in the scene. It was understandable. You were sure this looked a lot worse than it really was.

“Oops!” he exclaimed.

“Kevin, it’s really not what it looks like,” you tried to explain to him with your hands out in front of you as if trying to calm a wild animal.

“Don’t even worry about it you guys. Your secret’s safe with me,” he tried to wink at you but the alcohol in his system just turned it into a sloppy blink. This sentiment did nothing to ease your concern. Kevin was not the person people told secrets to. Kevin was the person people told when they wanted the whole town to know something.

Archie tried to stop him too, “No, Kevin man, it’s not like that. Her shirt just-“

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourselves to me. I always knew Archie - Y/n would happen. Don’t you worry about a thing. My lips are sealed.” He stumbled out of the bathroom and Archie quickly shut the door behind him, locking it this time.

You both stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing exactly what to say.

After about 30 seconds you asked already knowing the answer, “He’s definitely going to go tell Betty and Veronica about this, right?”

“I’m sure they already know.”

You nodded your head and took the jersey from his hand. He slung on the jacket and waited for you. You pulled his jersey over your head. It was big on you but not too big. It smelled like Archie. It felt right. He opened the door and you followed him out of the room, only for him to stop abruptly. You ran into him and then peered over his shoulder at what had stopped him. Who else but Cheryl Blossom joined by Josie at her side.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” she said in her Cheryl way, her eyes scanning up and down. “The quarterback and the rando hooking up at a party together. How cliché. Doesn’t this feel like a bad 80’s rom-com?”

Josie joined in, “Who’s Molly Ringwald in this situation?”

“I’m like Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald and Y/n’s like Sixteen Candles Molly Ringwald. That makes Archie Jake Ryan!”

Neither of you had the patience to try and explain the situation to her. Archie grabbed your hand pulling you in the other direction down the hallway. “It’s been a pleasure as usual Cheryl,” he yelled behind him.

Over the blaring music, you could just make out her say “Or maybe she’s more Pretty in Pink Molly Ringwald…”

He pulled you through a different part if the house to a patio where a few random couples were making out. They were taking up all the seating and he scratched his head not knowing where to go.

“Why don’t we just sit in the grass?” you suggested. You walked over to a far part of the lawn that was dark but still lit by the moon. The music was muffled and distant, present enough that would could have private conversation, but still muted. He sat down crisscross applesauce style and you followed suit, chuckling to yourself. You both sat with your forearms resting on your knees, leaving only a couple of inches between each other.

“We’re finally alone.” He stated quietly, sounding satisfied. The moon lit up half of his face and his fiery locks glinted as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, that’s why I come to parties. To be alone. Just me and two-hundred of my closest friends.” You breathed sarcastically.

He grinned at your reply. He looked at you for a moment. Just really looked at you. He was really seeing you.

He looked away timidly, “You look good in my jersey you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Yeah?” He nodded his head. You considered how to reply. “Well I guess I’m just gonna have to try out for the football team then.”

“Or,” He leaned in even closer, “alternatively,” his lips just centimeters from yours, “you could just…” He pressed his lips to yours, lightly but passionately, like it was something he’d been wanting to do for a long time. His lips were soft and it felt right, he felt right. It only lasted a couple of seconds but it felt like forever, in a good way. He pulled back and all you could both do was grin at each other.

All of a sudden, a mess of loud yelling coming from the house caught both of your attention. “Woo!!!” “Oh yeah!!!” “Get it!!!” “Hashtag Archie-Y/n!!!” Veronica and Betty were hanging out of a window calling out to the two of you. You looked up at the sky in embarrassment and Archie just shook his head at them, laughing. They pumped their fists and chanted “OTP, OTP, OTP…”

Archie stood up and put his hand out to pull you up, “Do you wanna go to Pop’s? Or anywhere that isn’t right here?” “Gladly,” you agreed, “I hate parties.”

1) I am trying to understand. 이해하려고 노력 중입니다.

2) I am ready to go out. 전 나갈 준비가 됐어요.

3) I am just about to go to bed. 막 잠자리에 들려는 중이었어요.

4) I am calling to make a reservation. 예약하려고 전화한 건데요.

5) Are you going to study for your test? 너 시험공부할 거니?

6) Are you done with the report? 리포트 다 썼어요?

7) Can I have your phone number? 전화번호 좀 알려주시겠어요?

8) Can I get you a drink? 마실 것 갖다드릴까요?

9) Can I help you with your coat? 코트 받아드릴까요?

10) Can you tell me where the bathroom is? 화장실이 어디 있는지 알려주실래요?

11) Can you bring me a blanket? 담요 좀 갖다주실래요?

12) Can you give me a chance? 제게 한번만 더 기회를 주세요.

13) Can you show me the specials? 특별한 것들을 제게 보여주실 수 있나요?

14) I can´t believe you did that. 네가 그렇게 했다는 것을 믿을 수가 없어.

15) I can´t think of a solution. 해결방안이 안 떠오르네.

16) I can´t wait for my birthday. 내 생일이 빨리 왔으면.

17) I can´t stand it when you lie to me. 네가 거짓말을 할 때면 난 돌아버리겠어~

18) Is it okay if I spend the night? 밤새우고 와도 괜찮아요?

19) Is it possible that you´re wrong? 네가 틀렸다는 게 가능해?

20) Is that okay with you? 너 괜찮아?

21) Would it be possible if I tried harder? 내가 좀더 노력하면 가능할까요?

22) Is it done well? 잘 끝났어?

23) Why don´t you look for a job? 직장을 찾아보는 게 어때요?

24) Why are you here? 여기는 왜 왔어?

25) Why are you always putting me down? 넌 왜 항상 나를 무시하니?

26) That is how I do it. 그게 제가 그것을 하는 방법이에요.

27) That is what I heard. 그게 바로 내가 들은 거야.

28) That is why I´m so tired. 바로 그래서 내가 피곤 한거야.

29) Would you please be quiet? 조용히 좀 해줄래요?

30) Would you like to watch television? TV를 보실래요?

31) Would you like me to drive? 제가 운전할까요?

32) How would you like your steak done? 스테이크는 어떻게 요리해드릴까요?

33) What would you like to drink? 뭐 마실래요?

34) I think I like this place. 난 이곳이 맘에 들어.

35) Do you need to go shopping? 너 쇼핑가야 돼?

36) You´ll need to listen carefully. 너 잘 들어야 돼.

37) All I need is some rest. 내게 필요한 건 휴식뿐이야.

38) I think you should get some fresh air. 바깥 공기를 좀 쐬는 게 좋을 것 같은데.

39) I think we need to get some professional help. 우린 전문가의 도움을 받아야 할 것 같아요.

40) I think I might have the answer. 나한테 답이 있을 거야.

41) What do you think of our new teacher? 새로 오신 우리 선생님 어때?

42) How do you think I feel?
내가 어떻게 느낄 것 같아?

43) I want you to listen to me
내 말 잘 들어봐.

44) Do you want me to talk to him?
내가 그 사람하고 얘기해볼까?

45) What do you want to do today?
오늘 뭐하고 싶어?

46) Where can I park my car?
제 차를 어디에 주차할 수 있나요?

47) Could you please tell me where the bathroom is?
화장실이 어딘지 알려주실래요?

48) When do you expect to leave work? 퇴근은 언제 할 것 같아?

49) When was the last time you saw a movie?
영화를 마지막으로 본 게 언제죠?

50) Which one do you want?
넌 어떤 걸 원해?

(AD)
이번 주 나의 주식운세는 좋을까? 나쁠까?
확인하러 가기


When Bucky comes home, the apartment is empty, which, admittedly, isn’t exactly what he had been expecting.

For as long as Bucky’s known him, Steve has never once failed to greet him when he’d get home on his birthday. Not back in Brooklyn, and certainly not since Bucky came back to live with the guy here in the Twentieth century.

Steve takes birthdays very seriously. Even when he shouldn’t – something Bucky has experienced first hand, more than once. Like that time Steve had insisted on baking him a birthday cake, despite the fact that Steve’s the kind of guy who can’t even boil water successfully. The mere memory makes Bucky’s throat constrict, and he quickly pushes the thought away before it can grow all too vivid.

He sets his bag down by the door and toes off his shoes. It’s a weird rule, but he knows that Steve will throw a minor fit if Bucky walks in with his boots on – especially seeing as it has been pouring rain all day long.

Bucky’s jacket is still dripping a little as he hangs it up. He pulls his metal fingers through his hair, knowing that it’s wet, even though the sensation registered by his nerve endings doesn’t translate exactly the same way as it would have with his other hand. It’s still an odd feeling. Tony’s been working hard on this new sensory module for his arm, and so far, Bucky is now able to actually feel a whole range of different things compared to what he had been before. Heat, cold, and pressure had always been there, but the little things… Those are what throw him off, still.

Like being able to feel the rain, for example. Which had been the reason why he’d decided to walk home in the first place, rather than take a cab – with the left sleeve of his jacket pulled up all the way to the elbow, just because he could.

The rain is his favorite sensation so far, and he’s already relishing in the thought of the similar, falling water in the shower he’s going to take in a matter of minutes, when he spots the Post-It note that’s been stuck to the center of the hallway mirror.

It’s in Steve’s handwriting – soft and curvy – and Bucky tugs it from the mirror with a curious frown. The note says a single word.

“Kitchen”

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Jealousy - Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request - “Can you do a Jeff imagine where he gets jealous and then turns into a hot make out sesh?”

(This kinda has a bad-boy Jeff feel to it i guess)

It had been a week since you’d spoken to Jeff. A week since you’d had one of the worst arguments yet. A week since you’d felt good. Jeff was your everything, and being in a bad place with him made you feel bad to your very core.
But tonight, was your friend Jess’ party, and you had to go, for her. You would just have to avoid Jeff as much as possible.

You were here, but you were anxious to go in. So you stood behind a tree in the front yard until you’d downed the cider you’d brought with you for some liquid courage. You’d worn your lucky red lipstick.

“Right.” You muttered to yourself, before starting towards the door.

The party was as you expected it, you did enjoy a good party every now and again, but the worry tonight was seeing Jeff. You’d had a huge fight because Your close friend Zach had said something unclear, that gave Jeff the impression that you had been cheating on him with Zach. Of course, you hadn’t. Zach hadn’t meant any harm, but the way rumours spread was insane. Everyone left right and centre believed it was true, and were convincing Jeff off it, too.

You saw Hannah and Clay by the drinks and decided to go join them.

“Hey guys!” You grinned.

“Oh hey Y/N…” Clay stuttered, “Here have a drink.” He said, handing you a red cup. “H- Hannah why don’t you show Y/N the bathroom.” He was tripping over his words.

“Uh, Clay, I know where the bathroom is.” You laughed, a perplexed look on your face. Hannah laughed and started to move toward you.

Then, Jeff came out from behind the two with three drinks, and you realised what Clay had been trying to do.

“Right.” You nodded. “Imma go outside.” You awkwardly pointed toward the door and dashed outside. You knew Jeff had seen you, but you just weren’t prepared to face him yet. It hurt that he hadn’t believed you.

You sat down on a vacant chair in a relatively empty part of the garden with your drink, annoyed at yourself.

“Hey, Y/N. You all alone?” Montgomery De La Cruz appeared out of no where and sat in the seat next to you.

“Uh, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Nice. You having fun?” He asked.

“Not really.”

He put his hand on your knee. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Y/N, maybe I can help make the night better for you.”

Before you could even muster up a response, a booming voice emerged from the shadows.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing man?” Jeff was not one who got angry often, but this was him at his angriest. He was probably a few drinks in, and had pent up anger from the previous week. “That’s my fucking girlfriend! Get your goddamn hands off her or I swear to god-” he was pulling Montgomery by his collar away from you and his jaw was clenched.

“Jeff stop! It’s fine.” You cut in, standing up so fast that your drink fell over.

“No it’s not fine! This pretentious douche bag thinks he can just hit on my girlfriend and I won’t notice?” He shoved him.

“Jeff!” You shouted again. “He meant no harm. It’s not exactly like you’ve been acting like my boyfriend for the past week, so I don’t know why you are now.” The salt in your voice stung. Jeff looked taken aback, but his fist remained clenched.

“Man I’m outta here, not worth it.” Monty’s voice cut through as neither of you had really been paying attention to him, and he slithered back into the house.

“You clearly don’t get it.” He snapped.

“I’m not having this fucking argument again.” You moved in toward him, throwing your hands above your head.

“Don’t bother then!” He scoffed, stepping inwards.

“I won’t!” You spat.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

“Fucking fine.” He was so close now that you could feel his hot breath on your face.

He smiled menacingly and his jaw was tight. His eyes were boring into yours. Then in one swift movement he crashed his lips to yours and grabbed your waist roughly. You kissed him back fiercely and tugged at his hair. His tongue slipped into yours and you breathed heavily through your nose. His hands were hot on you and the kiss was deep and knee-buckling. He moved his mouth down to your neck, and pressed kisses all over, before coming back to your lips and increasing the hormone driven atmosphere that parties often had. You were shivering ever so slightly from the cold, which Jeff must have sensed.

“Bedroom. Now.” Jeff whispered roughly against you, pressing on your hips. You nodded and reluctantly broke away from him, to go back in the house and find somewhere unoccupied. You re entered the house and turned back to look at Jeff. He had your red lipstick smudged all around his mouth.

“Nice look, Atkins.” Clay Jensen remarked as he passed. Jeff shook his head, clearly uncaring, and followed you up the stairs.

Once you found an empty room you resumed eating each others faces. Jeff lifted you up under your butt and you wrapped your legs around him.

“I’m so sorry…” you breathed between kisses.

“Oh believe me, I’ve never been more sorry in my life…” Jeff chuckled against you. “I knew I should’ve believed you… but everyone was telling me not to… I’m sorry…”

“Shut… up…” you struggled. He brought you down onto the bed with him and lay you down, pulling a leg over him.

“Damn… didn’t… realise… week… long time…” he eventually managed to get out.

Idiot. You thought to yourself.

Simmer // Archie Andrews

Summary: Archie and you have a fight when Veronica can’t seem to understand that Archie isn’t single but that doesn’t stop her from kissing him. During ‘Secrets and Sins’ some things you didn’t know are revealed causing a rift but with the sex be enough to convince you how much Archie cares?

Characters: Reader x Archie Andrews, Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge, Kevin Keller, Cheryl Blossom, Chuck Clayton, Dilton Doiley, FP Jones, Jason Blossom (mentioned) and Ms. Grundy (mentioned).

Words: 3126

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters involved. Some parts of the dialogue from the episode has been changed to fit the fic.

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, party, fighting, and smut.

Author: Caitsy

A/N: This was two requests I put into one!

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Originally posted by riverdalesource

The minute Archie told you about Betty throwing Jughead a birthday party you knew it would go bad. When you were young Mrs. Jones would babysit you for extra cash, your parents doubled the average pay to her. That meant you grew up close with Jughead as if you were siblings or really close cousins and you knew how much he hated his birthday.

You were shocked when Archie allowed the get together build into a fill fledged high school part with two kegs in attendance. Your boyfriend was acting odd but refused to tell you why and you didn’t appreciated Veronica making eyes at your oblivious boyfriend.

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The Rebound

It was supposed to be shorter (; ̄д ̄)

(Also posted on AO3)


Draco ran his finger along the rim of his empty glass absently. The edges of his vision swam as he looked up at the bartender who raised a single perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.

“Another?” she asked.

Draco closed his eyes briefly, squeezing them until they ached, “Bring me… whatever’s next on the menu.”

“Yeah, alright,” she smirked, taking his empty glass, “What did you think about the French 75 then?”

“Nice, lovely,” Draco said absently, not entirely sure he could remember precisely what the last drink had tasted like.

“One Dark n’ Stormy, comin’ up,” she said brightly.

Draco sighed he fished a few more muggle notes from his pocket and shoved it on the other side of the bar. She had been very friendly all night not that he was surprised. There weren’t many people in the bar on a tuesday evening, much less a sad drunk wizard who was likely overpaying a great deal because he honestly couldn’t be arsed to check the numbers on his flimsy paper money.

He ignored her attempts at conversation when she returned and took the tall glass of what tasted like rum and ginger beer. Draco was prepared to stumble through something approximating a conversation when someone sat beside him, ordering a rum and coke and sending her off.

Draco blinked, his brow furrowing, the voice beside him had sounded familiar. Draco turned slowly so his head wouldn’t fall off and found the other bloke watching him curiously. The other bloke that looked remarkably, disturbingly, identical to Harry Potter.

Potter tried on a hesitant smile, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

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