and he replies with what he would tell anyone else who asked.. and then realizes something is different about the way she asked

You Have No Idea

Originally posted by gryffinclaw-in-wilde-times

Peter Parker x Shy Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter and the Reader go to school together, however once Peter shows up at Stark tower, the Reader is curious as to why he is there.

Word Count: 1,930

Warnings: language, fluff, adorableness, talk of powers, annoying Tony, shy reader (bc I’m trash). (Err, that’s it?)

A/N: To the anon that requested this, I hope you like it! I sort of changed it up a little bit, so I hope you don’t mind. The length of this, I apologize, holy shit. I could not find a way to end this. *Also, the Reader’s powers are based on the character Catiana (in case you are wondering!) Please let me know what you guys think of it, I’d love some feedback. Enjoy reading!


Walking into school, you held tightly to your backpack and moved swiftly through the crowd, avoiding an “accidental” bump in with anyone that came unexpectedly.

Since you had a few minutes before your first class, you went to your locker and replaced the books in your backpack with the ones you needed today for classes.

Rolling your eyes and groaning as you picked up your heavy Algebra book, you stuffed it roughly into your backpack.

It’s not that you hated math, it’s just you weren’t that great at it, which definitely bothered you since you were in a class full of legit geniuses.

Not only did that class give you anxiety with being called on or not understanding anything, but it was also because there was one nerd who always caught your attention. The one that should probably be in college level math rather than Algebra in some high school. The one who looked so soft and cuddly. The one with the never ending collection of sweaters.

The one named, Peter Parker.

Keep reading

Jughead Jones x Reader: Relationship Status

Request:

Can I request a Jughead x reader where they are dating and just haven’t told anyone but they always hold hands/other cute couple stuff. And Veronica (or anyone else in the group) asks if they’re dating with one of them (Jug or the reader) replying with something like “We are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

A/N: This one was bit cute to write so I hope you guys enjoy it.  Going through a bit of writers block at the moment so I hope you guys like it and it’s not too crappy and that the requestor is happy about it.

Words: 1407

Summary: You and Jug have been friends all your lives and you start dating but don’t tell your friends because of recent events in Riverdale. Veronica wants you guys to date so bad not knowing you guys are.

Spoilers: Veronica is bisexual in this imagine.

Warnings: N/A

You and Jughead had been inseparable since as long as you could remember. The days you guys weren’t together were slim to none.

As you grew older you realized you had feelings for the beanie obsessed writer. You guys were too close for him not feel the same.

It was a troubled day when you chose you were going to talk to him about how you felt about him. The nerves occupied your body as you made your way to the park to see him.

This is the day you repeated to yourself all the way.

It was like the world knew you were destined for each other because that memorable day Jughead had set up a picnic. Which made you question what was going on because other than you, his laptop was his other most loyal companion. He never let it out of his sight and he told you to meet him up because he wanted you to see what he was writing.

Turned out Jughead felt the same way and you guys started dating ever since, but you guys never got to tell any of your friends with all the mayhem that resided in Riverdale.

A lost soul, the murder of Jason Blossom on July 11th as the coroner stated after his body was found in the now vacant Sweetwater River.

You both had talked about telling them after the funeral but that just seemed selfish, but you guys were always linked to each other so maybe it didn’t make a difference. The only change now is that you guys kiss although Jug is not big on PDA, so you only ever held hands and hugged, the usual.

__

Jughead found a new topic to write about, Jason. You and Betty helped out find justice for the red-haired boy who left the world too quickly.

Jughead was sitting with you in his usual booth at Pops as he wrote and you talked about the murder case and anything that came to mind. You both always seemed to be in your own bubble. When you were together it was as if you were in your own parallel universe.

In the other side of the diner was Betty and Veronica chatting away while enjoying a strawberry and chocolate milkshakes with fries.

“So those two, what’s their deal?” Veronica added to their conversation.

“Honestly we don’t know, they look completely in love with other” Betty chimed in as Kevin came in and sat with them.

“What’s up? What’s the topic?” he spoke

“(Y/N) and Jug” Betty answered

“Ah the Lovers” Kevin chimed in as he ordered his food

“So you think there is something there too” Veronica cheered

“Oh please you’d have to be oblivious to not see the sparks and lighting bolts around them” Kevin continued.

“They have been inseparable since as long as we can remember, she’s the only one that has ever worn his beanie” Betty noted as Veronicas jaw dropped.

“What?! But he doesn’t even take that thing off, I swear he showers with it” the raven haired girl chuckled as Archie was coming into the diner.

“Arch” Betty motioned to the ginger to sit with them.

“Hey, what’s up I was going to talk to Jug” he declared.

“And ruin their moment” the blond spoke motioning to you and Jughead sitting on the same side of the booth giggling away and Arch just smiled.

“I swear I don’t know why they just don’t date they’re-, uh- what’s the word?” Arch added sitting next to Veronica.

“In love” Veronica giggled.

“Smitten” Betty cooed as she rested her head on her hand.

“Yes that one Bets, smitten” Arch blurted and they laughed but that still didn’t compare to the laughs that were radiating from the other side of the diner coming from you and Jughead.

“Honestly what are we going to do about them?” Veronica questioned.

“What do you mean?” Kevin asked.

“We have to get them together” Veronica confessed.

“Oh no” Betty admitted

“Why not?” Veronica added

“You are so new Ron” Kevin announced

“Jug and (Y/N) don’t like people meddling in their lives” Arch concluded.

“Well then we don’t push them together, but we can show them that there is other opportunities” Veronica stayed on topic as the others gave her puzzled looks.

“Well you guys said not to push them, so I’ll give them a little nudge” she continued.

“What nudge?” Betty asked with a smile.

“We get someone to ask them on a date, someone for Jughead and someone for (Y/N)” Veronica argued.

“Doubt it will work” Arch spoke as he took a bite of his burger.

“Yeah what if they say no to those people” Betty gave a small smile.

“Plus who were you going to get to ask them out? No one would dare separate those two” Kevin assured.

“Me and Arch” Veronica stated confidently and Archie choked on his soda.

“Hell no! Jug would kill me, she’s off limits” Archie said as he recovered then gave an expression that showed he had said too much.

“What do you mean off limits Andrews?” Veronica broke the silence.

“No nothing, I uh- I just meant she’s Jug’s best friend” he tried to rescue himself.

“No no, tell us what you know” Kevin declared as him and the girls gave him a devilish smirk.

“Will you look at the time, I have got to go” Archie decided about to stand up and veronica grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down.

“Spill it Andrews” She commanded.

“Jug uh- he’s gonna hate me” Archie said as he scratched his neck “he- uh- he’s got a thing for (Y/N) since like forever, he talks about her constantly and one time I told him if he didn’t do something I would ask her out just playing around and he literally made me swear to leave it alone and she was his if it ever happens. You cannot tell a soul about this if Jug finds out he’ll never talk to me again and (Y/N) well I don’t know how she’ll react” he confessed as they all had smiles plastered on their faces.

“Oh we have got to do something now, he likes her and she is obviously head over heels for him” Veronica cheered.

“But what? If it goes wrong they’re gonna hate us” Betty took a sip of her milkshake.

“Count me out, me and Jug are finally talking again” Archie declared.

“Sorry gay” Kevin spoke as Veronica turned to him and they chuckled once again.

“You could ask out Jug and I ask her out” Veronica smirked.

“Oh honey no, Jug’s cute but not my type. You could totally ask out (Y/N) though you bisexual queen” Kevin smiled and Veronica giggled.

So the group made their way to the other side of the diner to see what would unravel.

“Hey guys” you spoke as you saw them sit down with you and Jug.

“What’s with the grins?” you asked them confused as to what they wanted.

“Um (Y/N)” Veronica spoke as she took your hand and you gave her a puzzled look and Jughead gave the same look.

“What are you doing?” you asked Veronica as Jughead placed his arm around you.

“(Y/N) um- Will you- um- uh, Oh my god! I can’t!” Veronica pleaded and everyone except you and Jughead started laughing and you turned to Jughead and them so oblivious to what was going on.

“Can’t what?” you decided you wanted some answers as you laid your head on Jughead’s shoulder.

“Ron was gonna fake ask you out” Kevin retorted as Veronica stared at him with wide eyes.

“What?!” you questioned as she gave you a small smile.

“I just wanted to see your reaction, everyone says you and Jughead are two peas in a pod and I see it too, but ugh- I- I just want you guys to date. You guys would be my otp” Veronica rambled.

“I could’ve sworn we were going out though” Jughead stated as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and you smiled as the whole table gasped, shocked expressions plastered on their faces.

“Go Juggie” Archie encouraged as he motioned to Jughead for a high five.

“Oh my, Yes” Kevin cheered.

“Congrats (Y/N), you guys are so amazing together” Betty smiled.

“Happy now Ron” you implied to a still shocked raven haired girl.

“Best day in Riverdale so far” Veronica exulted.

@sgarrett49

Silver Storm (3/?)

Summary: While on trip out of state, you were taken by Hydra. You were barely 21 at the time. Hydra took you and turned you into another asset, matching the Winter Soldier’s abilities. They injected you with a serum similar to his, wiped you,  and instructed the soldier himself to train you. He was hard on you, but when it was just the two of you he let his walls down. You were each other’s comfort, until the events of D.C when he was sent to kill Captain America. After that day, you never saw him again. You were told he abandoned you, that he was on the other side now. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, but what happens when he comes bursting through the doors of your facility?

Memories are in Italics, bold is readers thoughts *

It’s kind of a slow chapter guys, but itll step up for the next ones!

Pairing: none so far, but Bucky x reader (eventually) , reader x avengers

Warnings: swearing, torture, violence, sadness

 - I wasn’t aware there was already a superhero with this name, so my character is in no way connected to  Marvels Silver Storm! *


                                                    Chapter 3

    Steve pulls the man out of the jet with him, harshly whispering to him as they leave.  Bucky stands, hand still grasping yours, and leads you out of the jet and into whatever building they took you to. As you pass a window, you peek out, seeing the most beautiful scene. You stop, pulling Bucky to a halt as you keeping gazing out the window at the gorgeous skyline.

“Where are we?” you ask softly. He takes his hand away from your and places it on your hip while standing behind you.

“New York, doll.”

“It’s so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever had a chance to see it like this.” Your tone is somewhat sad, memories of the times Hydra made you come here for missions play in your mind.

Originally posted by dincolodeumbre

“Well now you can. How about we go sight seeing sometime? I can show you all that you’ve-”

“I don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon.” Bucky’s cut off by the voice of the man from earlier. You both turn around, facing the still upset looking man.

“Stark, what are you-”

“Your friend here is a wanted assassin, Barnes. You really think you can go skipping around the city together? For all you know she’s a ticking time bomb.” The tone of his voice hits a nerve, reminding you of the way your handler spoke; it’s as if you weren’t even there. Your body tenses up like it does when you’re waiting on orders. Bucky notices, fisting his hands at his side.

“Tony, she’s a human being, not an animal. She was with Hydra for what? 10 years or less? She probably did half the kills I did in my time, and I’m here. So save your lecture. She’ll be cleared,” He shoots back. Tony rolls his eyes and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, I’ll give you that. But until she gets a psych evaluation, she stays in containment. We don’t know anything about her-”

“Did anyone look into the flash drive your friend retrieved from my superior? My files might be on there, he never let that thing out of sight,” you cut in. Tony sends you a glare, putting you right back into the tense mode.

“We’re looking into it right now. Why don’t you show her to her confinement area.”

Bucky grabs your hand, pulling you with him. As you step into the elevator, he shifts closer to you, cupping your face like before. You gasp, shocked at the movement. His face is getting closer to yours, and he slowly rests his forehead against yours.

 "I’m so sorry. I’ll figure all this out. We’ll find out who you are, and hopefully undo the damage they did to you,“ he whispers. You can feel his breath fan across your face. A feeling spreads across you, making you feel warm, almost safe. Another memory slips through the cracks, and you step back and place your hands on your head as it hits.


You were laying curled into Winter’s body on the concrete floor of your cell. It has been at least two days since any agents have entered. They only slide your food trays under the door. The room felt like it was below 0’ F; your body was shaking from the cold. Winter pulled you on top of him, wrapping his arms around you tighter as your body rested against his.

"Is this better?” he quietly questioned. You nuzzled your face into his neck, lips slightly grazing it. You heard him suck in a sharp breath, and goosebumps appeared on his neck.

“Yes, much better, Soldier,” you said as you placed light kisses along his neck.

“Behave yourself, doll.” You could tell his warning was empty. You began nipping at his neck, pulling breathy gasps from him. His hold on you tightened even more, pushing you to him and making you feel his growing bulge.

“You know, there is something else we can do for warmth, Привлекательн (handsome)…” you purred into his ear. He flipped you both, placing himself between your legs. He rubbed his center against yours, making you whimper at the contact. He leaned down, barely brushing his lips against yours.

“If we get caught-”

“It would be worth it,” you pushed. The way he looked at you sent a different kind of chill through you. He looked at you as if you hold his world in your hands, as if maybe you’re them most beautiful and important thing to him. You finally broke the silence, pushing yourself forward and melting your lips to his. The shock it sent through your body was the most magnificent feeling . You wound your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Originally posted by couplenotes


You heard footsteps approaching down the hall, causing you to pull away and force him off you. He sent you a troubled look as the door jerked open.

“Серебро, ты готовишься к миссии (Silver, you are being prepped for a mission).”

You stood immediately, knowing that you had a good chance of being wiped (since Hydra just loved having any excuse to do it). You nodded and followed the agent. You looked back over your shoulder and saw a single tear roll down Winter’s face.


You’re on your knees in the elevator, still holding your head. Your breathing is uneven, and you can feel Bucky rubbing circles into your back as he whispers things to you.

"It’s okay, just relax,” he says. “Are all memories like that? That painful?” You nod, and he slowly helps you up and returns a hand to you waist. You didn’t notice the elevator doors open, but he guides you out. What was that memory? Did we ever-

 You blurt out your thoughts before you can stop yourself. “Bucky, were we - did anything ever happen with us while we were in that cell?” you ask. He doesn’t answer right away, just keeps moving you two through the floor you were on.

“Is that the memory you just had?” he asks, avoiding the question.

“Not exactly, you ..I…. Do you remember kissing m-” you’re interrupted by a door loudly sliding open in front of you. This must be the containment that Tony guy was talking about. You decide not to finish your question, instead just walking into the plain white room. There is a small bed against the wall, right across from a giant window looking into the hall. It’s like a fucking animal cage. They can just come in and watch me?

You turn to Bucky, rage evident in your expression. “You’re sticking me in a glorified animal cage?” you roar. His eyes widen. "It’s not a - It’s just a precaution. You heard what Tony said. You have to be evaluated before we can situated with something normal,“ he states, his voice was stern, snapping you out of your rage. It was the voice you recognize as the one he used in front of his superiors while at Hydra. Your blood ran cold, instantly flipping your switch into comply mode. You straighten your posture, and your face is expressionless. Bucky realizes what happened, regretting the way he just spoke.

Originally posted by agentcarterabc

 "Silver, I didn’t mean-” he doesn’t continue. He can already tell you won’t respond. He runs his hand down his face, kicking himself mentally. You hear a beeping start, and watch as he goes for his pocket. He pulls out a small phone, putting it to his ear.

“What?” he asks defeatedly. You aren’t sure what is said from the other side, but all he replies with is an “okay”. He slides it back into his pocket. “I have to go, they managed to get into the flash drive. I’ll come back after we see what’s on it, okay?” he leans forward, going to place his lips on your forehead. You stand still, still no emotion showing on your face.

“Relax a little, I’ll be back soon.” You don’t answer, just stand there. He hesitantly leaves, the door closing behind him. When he is out of sight, you glance around the room, your eyes landing on the giant window to the hall.

What the hell am I supposed to do? What if whatever is on the drive is bad? What if they send me back to Hydra, or keep me in this room ? I shouldn’t be here.


    You end up sitting on the bed, waiting for someone to come to you. After what feels like days, you finally see Bucky and Steve through the window. The door slides open and they both step in with hard to read looks across their faces. You’re on your feet in seconds. You don’t speak, you just wait for orders or whatever they are here for.

  “You aren’t a soldier anymore, ma'am. This isn’t Hydra.” Steve says with a hint of sincerity. You don’t move from your spot, afraid this is a trap. They shoot each other a look before Bucky speaks up.

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

“Doll, we think we have something you might want to see. Will you come with us?” he asks. You tilt your head to the side, confused on why you’re being given an option. You slowly nod ‘yes’ at them, and Bucky sticks his hand out for yours.You lay your hand in his gently, like before, and follow the men out of your room.

    After being on the elevator shortly, you’re being escorted into a large room with what you assume to be the rest of the Avengers sitting around a table. A holographic screen is in front of them, but all eyes are on you. You recognize most of the team from pictures you were shown at your previous base. Bucky pulls out a seat for you and you take it as he sits next to you.

“Alright Tony, keep going.”

    Five different screens are showing now. Two  of them are videos playing, showing you being injected with blue liquid and your body reacting. Another two videos are of you being trained, looking brutally abused, one including Bucky in it. And the last one was a photo of you, along with all your information; name, weight, height, etc.

Your breathing picks up and your hands begin to shake at the thought of what’s about to happen. You look to the screen where your information is shown.

Who the hell is Y/n?

Originally posted by commander-candles

@bluebrrn   @dogsareradandstuff  @a-book-pressed-rose  @smadrat  

 @bangtanjm  @bethabear12  @reinakatarina  @infinite-exist-ence   @mcsmashdesigns  @skeletoresinthebasement  @thenerdylesbian  @echelonwonderland  @mayayeah  @mutherfuckinstarboy  @liamjpayne-o  @camila1818  @superflowergirlxxlove  @bodyasleep-mindawake  @omggrace31  @ssa-nightowl  @bexboo616  @prostheticsoldier  @vivianbabz 

@tequilavet  @abbybills22  @atlcowgirl  @weirdlyobsessedreader  @life-what-life-i-dont-have-one  @ohitsjustcorina  @vaisabu  @undiscl0sed-desir3s   @wildchild2707   @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation

Sorry if I forgot anyone! my tumblr has been acting up recently :/! 

Shades of Blue

Jughead x Reader

Jughead is the reader’s best friend, and she’s liked him since grade school but has never told him. Based on the requested song: Shades of Blue by Ashton Edminster

Warnings: None

Word count: 2,102

A/N: So this was going to be sad, but then I got into a v happy mood and I couldn’t end it sad so here’s some fluffy lovey something idk


Cause all my shades of blue

Go away when I’m with you

Put a golden frame around my heart

Cause you make me feel like a piece of art

Secrets. They can tear people apart, or bring people together.

You have a secret.

A secret that would rock the walls of Riverdale High.

A secret that would change everything.
You love Jughead Jones.

Okay, so maybe it’s not that big of a secret, but still, you’ve been friends with Jughead since pre-school, and you’ve never once told him that. You’ve never once let it slip. You know that he only thinks of you as a friend, maybe even a sister. Your mom practically helped raise Jellybean, going over to babysit for the Jone’s whenever there were issues beyond your comprehension at the time. You ended up tagging along, becoming closer and closer with Jughead. You remember the time when you would make him sit as you tried to sketch him out, eventually trying to draw his likeness from memory.

You often think back fondly at a memories of times you tried to make Jughead sit so you could paint him, but it just ended up in him trying to get the most paint on you.

You smile, realizing that you’ve been there for him through everything, and you’ve come to rely on each other.

You have a relationship with him unlike anyone else, one that’s more playful, almost sibling-like in nature. He’s only like that with you, only willing to be that way around someone he’s known all his life.

During the summer from Freshman to Sophomore year, your mom stops babysitting Jellybean, and you still don’t know why. You continue to ask about it, mainly because you just want any excuse to spend more time with Jughead, but she doesn’t tell.

That’s her secret.

One day after school, you’re sitting in front of an easel in the art room with a paint-covered smock, working an abstract of a human girl, a bleeding heart coming out of the center. There’s something missing, though, and you can’t quite figure out what it is.

“Hey dork.” you hear a voice say, and you turn around to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway. Jughead.

“Hey idiot.” you respond to him, making him smirk.

“Let’s go to Pop’s. I want some fries.” he says, walking over to where you’re sitting and casting a shadow on your work of art.

You sigh and look up at him, motioning for him to move. He doesn’t move.

“Jug, move.” you say, standing up and shoving him with your shoulder playfully, trying not to get paint on him.

“No,” he shoves you back as per usual. Nudging shoulders has quickly become one of the things that only you guys understand. You go back to the stool you were sitting on, “What are you painting?”

You sit on the stool once more and stare at the piece, “Honestly I’m not sure. Any tips?”
He stares at it for a moment, putting out his thumb and finger in an ‘L’ shape, acting like he’s observing it in a deep manner, like a true art critic. He squints his eyes and then opens them like he has an idea.

“Paint a frame around the heart,” he says, not elaborating on what he means, “and do it quick, I want food.”  

You grab the gold paint, deciding to take his advice. You paint a square around the heart, adding depth to the top and the bottom to make it look more frame-like.

Surprisingly, it works. The frame makes the heart look like it’s out of her chest completely, like the woman in the painting is saving it for someone to take. You like the symbolism.

You take a step back and initial in the corner, marking the piece complete.

“That.. that worked?” Jughead’s voice makes you jump. You turn to him with the still-wet paint brush and silently threaten to mark his beanie if he scares her again.

He puts up his hands in surrender and you smile at him, “What? I just didn’t think it would, or that you’d actually take my advice for once.” he smirks.

“Shut up, you don’t give terrible advice…” you say nudging him on the shoulder again, “all the time.” you add.

You turn back to the painting, and then you put the brush in some water to soak and take off the smock.

“Pop’s?” he asks, and you nod, rolling your eyes. You walk out of the art room and turn off the lights to the girl with a frame around her heart.

I’d love to be the one to make you laugh

A few weeks go by, and Jughead has made the decision to investigate the Jason Blossom murder, and has even decided to write a novel about it. Because of this, he becomes distant.

He even starts hanging out with Betty Cooper.

You have nothing against Betty Cooper, by any means, you’re only slightly jealous because deep down you know that he’s starting to like her.

You want Jughead to be happy, and in the end if that’s not with you, you’re going to have to deal with it.

You swallow your pride, and every time he brings her up you listen intently, nodding and offering advice. He mainly asks about what they should do to proceed with the case, and since that has nothing to do with his relationship with her, you’re fine with answering them.

He still finds time for you, so it’s not like he’s completely distancing himself, but you do notice a slight shift in the way he acts. He’s nervous around you now, like he has something to hide, a secret, but you only catch glimpses of it.

Soon, a rumor starts going around school that he’s asked out Betty, and you sink into yourself for a few days, not talking to anyone, to deal with the news. You want to text him about it, but you don’t feel like it’s your place. You resign yourself into being the best friend, the sister figure in his life. Somewhere deep down you’ve always known that’s what you would always be to him. Now there is no way around it.

The week after hearing the news, you walk towards Pop’s on a Friday night. This is, without a doubt, one of your favorite days of the week, not only because of the start of the weekend, but because you always meet up with Jughead for fries and a milkshake and talk about anything that you’ve missed that week.

No matter what, he’s always there waiting for you with fries and a milkshake.

Today starts as no different, until you see someone sitting in your spot across from Jughead in your regular booth.

The all too familiar blonde ponytail waves from side to side as she shakes her head and laughs at something he said.

She replies, saying something I can’t hear, because the world is blurring around me, causing tunnel vision.

He laughs in response. And not just a small chuckle like he does with you, but a full laugh with a smile nearly from ear to ear. He looks back at her and his eyes seem to look into hers, and you realize he’s never looked at you like that before.

Then he looks up and locks eyes with you, and you know that he can read exactly what you’re thinking because all of his features change. You’ve caught him in a lie, you’ve caught him with his secret, and he knows it.

You walk out the door, and it slams behind you unintentionally. You put a hand over your mouth to keep sobs from escaping.

The rumors, they’re true. You thought you had dealt with it, but seeing it in person is a whole different story.

You start walking home, afraid that you’ll never be able to make him laugh the way she just did.

I’d love to hear each thought upon your mind

I’d love to hang on close to every word that I could find

You ignore him for the weekend, and even part of the week, not able to talk to him just yet. You need time to process and to heal, and then to move on and try to find someone else. Maybe Archie Andrews?

You shake the thought from your head as soon as it enters, he’s just not your type. Nice guy, not your type.

You’re walking home from school, when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. You know who it is without even needing to look.

You ignore him for a few minutes before he says, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

You.

“Oh, the uh, school talent show.” you stammer, trying to cover.

“Really?” he questions, lifting his eyebrows. He knows you too well to know when you’re lying about something like this.

“Yeah, thinking about entering it. Speed painting, maybe.” you offer, shrugging your shoulders.

“You should.” he says.

You look at him, surprised, “Really?”

“Your paintings are beautiful, you’d bring the crowd to their feet.” he compliments.

“No…” You shake it off, and you begin to notice his nerves coming back. Something’s up and you’re worried this is how he’s going to break the news that him and Betty are official.

“Yes, you would. Your art would light up any room, and not to mention the presence you would have on stage would just be stunning and…” he’s complimenting you too much.

“No, Juggie, stop.” you interrupt him, stopping and turning to face him.

“What?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

“I don’t… I…” you struggle to admit what you’ve been hiding from him since grade school, you can’t form the words to tell him.

“(Y/N), what is it?” He puts a hand on your arm, and his touch makes you seize up, your skin growing cold.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you say abruptly, turning away from him so you can’t see his face anymore.

“Do what?” He asks, still close. He doesn’t touch you, but you know that he’s there. He’s there to hold you if you need.

“I can’t listen to you talk about me like that. I can’t. My head will get all messed up and get the wrong ideas. You have Betty, she’s your girlfriend.-” you turn back around to face him, and you can see him trying to say something, but if you don’t tell him about your secret now, you know you never will, so you hold up a hand to him to let you continue speaking, “-and trust me I know, I know I’m your best friend and that we tell each other everything. And you have no idea how much I would love to just hear you go on and on… but it’s wrong, Juggie.”

He gives you a questioning look, silent. You’re trying to hold it together, but a few tears slip from your eyes.
“I’m trying to say that the one secret I haven’t told you, the one thing that I’ve kept from you all these years… is that I am in love with you. I am utterly and completely in love with you, Jughead Jones.” You admit, not able to look him in the eyes. There’s tears dripping down your cheeks, and you don’t want him to see you cry.

“God, (Y/N.” He says, gently lifting your chin to make you look at him.

“What?” you ask, voice cracking, barely a whisper.

“Betty and I… we’re just friends. I was asking her advice about this other girl, I can’t get her off my mind. I’ve been getting nervous around her, and I sound like, well, an idiot.” he admits, and now it’s your turn to be confused.

“Who? Who do you have on your mind?” you question, very aware of his body getting ever so closer to yours.

“You, ya dork.” he gives you a smirk.

“What?” you ask, nothing really computing yet.

His hands hesitate to touch you, worried about what you will say next. He drops his hand from your chin.

Suddenly, it all clicks, all of the glances, all of the nerves, all of the playful shoves and banter. It was flirting, you’ve been flirting.

You grab his neck gently, bringing his lips to meet yours, your bodies finally crashing together. His hands don’t hesitate anymore, going directly to your waist and pulling you closer, if it’s possible.

“You may be an idiot, but you’re my idiot.” you whisper once your lips part, foreheads together.

“I love you, dork.”


Tag list: @always-chocolate @theselfishllama @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @idle-lanes @xbobaaa @juneb @vanessa-sanch-blog @murderyoursoul @sardonic-jug @brokeenline @baz-catalano @juggheaddjonesworld @gabiwella @jugheadpotter @killjoyloki @i-swam-through-twelve-oceans @jvghead-jones-iii @keely-ansell @sorchabarakat7 @nightwriterescapingreality @darkxwithoutxlight  (If you wanna be on my tag list, just ask!)

Mine

Summary: Debbie’s friend tries to get with Mickey, so Ian shows Mickey who he belongs to.

Word Count: 1815

Notes: I have a few more requests in my messages so I’ll start working on them today :)


Ian and Lip were rummaging through a pile of movies that they had stuffed under the television. They couldn’t decide whether the wanted to watch a horror movie, something comical, or anything else for that matter. “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” Lip suggested. “The remake.”

Before Ian had a chance to reply, Mickey came walking out of the kitchen and into the living room area. “We just fucking watched that, dumbass,” he scowled at the older Gallagher boy.

Lip lazily through the movie on the floor. “What the fuck ever. You pick then.” He got up from where he was sitting and took a seat on the couch.

Ian shook his head and randomly grabbed three movies from beneath him. He looked at both of them and felt satisfied. “Okay, The Exorcism, Rocky, or Happy Gilmore. Fucking pick one,” he instructed.

At the same time, Lip and Mickey said, “Rocky.”

This was the first time either of the boys have ever

agreed with each other on something so they each gave each other a sideways glance. “Guess there’s a first time for everything, huh, Mickey?” Lip mocked, but Mickey just rolled his eyes.

“Okay, shut the fuck up,” Ian said. “Let’s round everyone up.” He got to his feet and quickly ran to the kitchen to grab two beers for him and his boyfriend. Lip rolled his eyes because as usual, Ian was only thinking about Mickey.

Once Lip saw that his brother was settled on the couch next to Mickey, he called out for everyone to come watch. “Movie’s starting! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” With that everyone came running into the living room. To keep the tradition, Fiona put a big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and people were scavenging at it before the movie even began.

Lip and Mandy shared the recliner, while Carl and Little Hank laid out on the floor. On the sofa next to them, Kevin, Veronica, Fiona, and Liam squished together. Then lastly on the other couch was Ian and Mickey on one end, while Debbie and Holly were on the other. There was a lot of people in this small space, but they always made it comfortable.

As the movie began, everyone began to cuddle together— Holly was a stuck up bitch though so she sat there with a scowl and her arms crossed. All that girl cared about was alcohol, drugs, and dick, and she was only thirteen.

In the beginning of the movie, there was a large amount of times where someone had to tell Carl to shut up. He and Little Hank kept trying to ask Mickey about different ways of shooting, stabbing, or stealing. Luckily, Mickey knew not to answer those questions. “Don’t ask me that shit!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Lip yelled at the boys.

Finally everything was silenced. Before anyone knew it, half of the group was asleep. The only people who were awake was Mandy, Mickey, Ian, Holly, and Kev. “Why does Fi always insist on having these movie nights if everyone’s gonna fucking sleep?” Ian whispered to his boyfriend.

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me, man,” Mickey lightly laughed. “I might as well try and get some sleep to,” he stuck his arm out for Ian to cuddle into him. “Come here.” He pulled Ian into his side.

At first Ian didn’t go along with the idea of sleeping. Instead, he leaned his head close and nibbled on Mickey’s ear and it was then followed by running his hand down Mickey’s torso and towards his crotch. Just as Ian started to palm his boyfriend through his jeans, Mickey let out a nearly silent moan, but the moment was disturbed by Holly.

When Holly let out a sigh, the boys regained awareness that there was a room full of people around them. As red rushed to Mickey’s cheeks, Ian giggled. Despite the fact that they were horny, they were okay with just cuddling for the time being. The redhead rested his head on Mickey’s shoulder while their hand intertwined. Mickey’s ankle was hooked around Ian’s. They could never sleep unless they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Breaking the sleepy and blissful moment, Ian’s phone rang. “Fuck,” he said and untangled himself from the shorter boy.

“Take that shit outside, man,” Kev pointed towards the door. “I fucking love this movie. Let me watch in peace.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Alright.” He kissed Mickey’s cheek. “Be right back.”

After Ian exited the house, Mickey curled himself back up on the couch. He was trying to muffle sound and sight out from around him, but suddenly a hand was lingering around the belt of his jeans. Though they were in front of people, Mickey knew he had a blanket over him, so he smirked because he thought it was Ian— who else would it be? “You’re back already?” He asked with his eyes still shut.

Just as the hand started to go into his pants, Mickey realized this was not Ian’s hand. Ian was walking into the house just as this happened. Before either boy had the chance to do anything, Mandy did. “What the fuck?” She shouted, causing Holly to stumble back. Everyone quickly awoken to see what was going on.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Ian said and protectively stood in front of Mickey. There were flames fuming in his eyes.

Mickey peaked around Ian to look at the blonde haired girl. “This bitch knows she’s not my type, right?” Ian shot him a glare that said shut the fuck up, right now, so he obliged.

“What the hell, Holly? You tried to get with my brother’s boyfriend!” Debbie yelled in shock and disgust. She could not figure out why she would do that.

Holly rolled her eyes. “You get with girls too,” she said as if it was that simple. “Figured I could be the next.” She tried to seductively bit her bottom lip.

Ian and Mickey tensed up as Holly spoke about him getting with girls. Every girl he’s ever got with had either been to try and cover up the gay or a fucking rape. It was still a bit of a sore situation, and it made both boys nervous.

Ian stepped forward, if this was a guy that he was dealing with he’d have hit the person by now, but this is a girl— a kid. Noticing how much Ian would’ve loved to take action, Mandy lunged forward and punched the girl in the face.

“Oh, fuck!” V yelled out because she was not expecting that to happen. Fiona clamped a hand over her mouth. Little Hank and Carl were left with their jaws wide open. Mickey smirked though, he was proud of his sister for her tough nature.

Lip clapped. “Get her, Mands!” He didn’t like this little Holly girl. She had a tendency of trying to get with guys that are way above her age— him being one of them. After two punches though, Kev pulled Mandy off.

Holly shrieked and fell backwards. A bit of blood trickled down her face and she displayed the most displeased and petrified expression. “Ugh! What the hell?” She complained.

“Fuck off,” Mickey waved Debbie’s so called friend towards the door. Covering her bruises, Holly let out another shriek and ran out of the house.

Ian’s arms were still crossed. He was clearly still annoyed by what happened, unlike everyone else who seemed to be over entertained. Debbie didn’t even seem to care that her friend got punched by Mandy, she had a hand cupped over her mouth as an attempt to keep from laughing.

Veronica shook her head. “Y’know, I never liked that girl. She’s a skank,” she laughed and the others in the room followed along.

Mickey was intently watching Ian, and then Lip spoke. “I mean I get why she thought you’d be into it though. You have been with your fair share of girls— Angie Zagho, Svet,” he joked. He didn’t know the story behind the whole Svetlana thing, but if he did, he would immediately regret saying that.

Suddenly it felt like Mickey’s heart was in his throat. He is gay, full out gay, he’s just had a few bad experiences. Snapping him out of his worried thoughts was watching Ian’s rage grow. The redhead grabbed Mickey’s hand, got up, and pushed hardly past Lip. The boys then towards the staircase.

“Oh, shit,” Fiona said in wonder as she and the clan watched the boys stomp up the steps.

As soon as the couple got into the bedroom, Ian pushed Mickey down onto the bed. Possession and lust were running through Ian’s veins as he straddled the dark haired boy. He started placing sloppy kissed around Mickey’s jaw and neck.

Mickey loved a jealous Ian— mainly because the night usual ended in really hot sex, and he secretly thought it was really cute seeing his boyfriend get all possessive.

As Ian pulled at the bottom of his boyfriend’s shirt, Mickey quickly pulled it off, followed by pulling Ian’s off. While they were undoing their belt buckles and pulled them down, they were heavily tangling their tongues together. Ian held the back of Mickey’s head in place and kissed him hard.

After Mickey let out another little moan, Ian separated their lips. “Turn around,” he ordered. He didn’t plan on prepping Mickey, he wanted to get right to it because watching Mickey squirm was his favorite thing to do.

Ian started licking up Mickey’s back. Once he got to his hairline, he leaned his head down. “You’re mine,” he said lustfully. The tone of his voice was almost enough to make Mickey cum.

“Show me who the fuck I belong to,” Mickey tilted his head back into Ian.

Without much warning, Ian thrusted himself into Mickey. As he was going back and forth, he had a tight grip around Mickey’s waist. The redhead was kissing all around Mickey’s back after every thrust.

Mickey’s eyes were practically rolling to the back of his head. “Fuck,” he whimpered. No one else would ever be able to make him feel this way. “I-Ian,” he moaned.

“Feels so good, Mick,” Ian into Mickey’s skin. Suddenly Ian reached his arm around his boyfriend’s body and wrapped his hand around Mickey’s dick. With every thrust was a stroke and suddenly both boys were cumming at the same time.

Ian sprawled himself on top of his breathless boyfriend for a moment. Once he rolled off, he placed a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Mickey turned his head to look into Ian’s eyes. “You know you don’t gotta worry about other people tryna get with me, especially girls,” he joked.

Ian nodded. “I know. I just like showin’ you that you’re mine,” he whispered and stroked his hand through Mickey’s hair.

“I’ll always be yours.”

Sinbad no Bouken 139 RAW + a Summary!

Here are the raws for Sinbad no Bouken 139 and a summary! Falan tells Sinbad about the true nature of destiny according to her. But how will he react? :O 

Just a reminder, to anyone who follows me and enjoys these raws/summaries, parts of or even all of these summaries could be completely wrong, so be advised as you read them as I am by no means a professional translator!

*** Disclaimer : Sinbad no Bouken is not my work. Please be sure to vote for Sinbad no Bouken every day on the MangaOne app if you have it!

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anonymous asked:

Jamie had many talents and interests. What would he be nerdy about in the modern world? How would Claire find out and what does she think?

We Live For Love

Four o’clock found them at a social club in Little Italy. One of the owners also happened to be Claire’s landlord – Jamie had been skeptical when she’d approached the door, but as soon as they entered she’d been welcomed like one of the family.

So now they sat in the back of the main room, watching a group of middle-aged men play cards and smoke cigarettes and speak occasionally to one of the constant stream of younger men who passed through the door, wanting to have a word or lay a fat envelope on the table.

“Good day today,” Jamie said after a while, idly swirling the dregs of his Jack Daniels in the small glass.

Claire sat beside him, so that together they faced the room. She didn’t speak, but he knew she had heard him.

“I knew it would be hard,” she replied after a while. “But after today, I realize just how much I don’t know.”

“That’s OK. You’re new at this. You’re not expected to know everything right away.”

“But if I want to be successful, Jamie – I *have* to know it right away.” She finished her vodka soda and turned to face him, eyes bright with a heady mix of anxiety and alcohol. “I don’t want to be a novelty act – I want to be respected. I want to be admired. I want people to look past the fact that I wear a skirt and see me for who I am.”

Her eyes watered – he couldn’t tell if it was from feeling or from the drinks. Desperately he wanted to reassure her – but she wasn’t a woman to be reassured. She needed to hear the truth, and as often as possible.

“It’ll be damn hard, Claire.” He held her gaze, trying to give her strength. “There aren’t many women like you – Debbie Harry, sure, and Chrissie Hynde. Maybe Patti Smith. But nobody’s doing what you want to. You won’t fit into anyone’s box.”

“I don’t want to,” she whispered. “I never have.”

Had she been any other woman – or girl – he would have laid his hand on top of hers.

But Claire Beauchamp was different. She deserved more. She deserved better.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered. “Do you trust me to help you in whatever way I can?”

“You haven’t steered me wrong yet,” she half-smiled. “And you helped me find my voice. I’ve been looking for it ever since I decided to do this – I knew it was in me, somewhere. But I couldn’t ever really find it.”

Sensing an opening, he waved to get the bartender’s attention, gesturing for another round.

“How long have you been working at this?”

She picked up two peanuts from the dish between them, waiting for their glasses to be cleared away and fresh drinks set on the sticky vinyl tablecloth.

“About a year now. Ever since I decided to divorce my husband.”

Well then. She had opened the door – but he didn’t want to step through it.

Respecting her.

“I’m sorry.” He took a sip of bourbon. “That it didn’t work out with him, I mean.”

“I’m not.” She squeezed the lime wedge into her vodka soda and stirred it with the paper straw. “I married him when I was nineteen. We argued for most of the seven years before I decided it was over. I sang in the church choir, and then in some small clubs. He didn’t like it. I had bigger dreams than he wanted me to have.”

So she was twenty seven. And here he was at twenty three – giving *her* advice.

How to respond when someone tells you something so private? Better to play it safe.

“Why rock music?”

She looked down at the glass held between her hands. “Why not? I’ve already walked away from everything. What do I have to lose?”

The card table exploded in laughter.

Jamie nudged her knee under the table, and waited for her to look up at him.

“What do you want, Claire? What would make you happy?”

She thought a long, long time before answering.

“To prove to myself that I can do it. That I have what it takes. And I’ll never let anyone else tell me what to do, ever again.”

He lifted his glass to softly clink against hers.

“Then I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen, Claire.”

And then she smiled – and his heart stuttered.

“And what about you, Jamie Fraser?” she asked, tipping back her glass. “What would make you happy?”

“To be recognized as a songwriter, not just a guitar player. I can manage things – not just work as a hired hand.”

“I don’t see you as a hired hand,” she said softly. Almost to herself.

“I’m very glad of it, Claire,” he replied, just as softly. Then stood. “Come on. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. May I walk you home?”

Somewhere in the quiet, dark hours of the night, when Jamie stared up at the paint peeling from his ceiling and listened to Ian’s snores across the room and the bum rifling through the bottles on the street below – the melody sprang, fully formed, into his mind.

He tore off his sheets like a madman, dashed to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and hastily scribbled in the small spiral notebook he kept under his pillow.

Yes – a good, solid chord progression. Rhythm guitars supporting a strong solo guitar, deeper notes allowing a beautiful soprano voice to just float to the top of the composition.

Intro – then verse – and soaring chorus – then another verse, another chorus. Then a bridge, and the chorus. Then a fade out.

He sat back on the closed lid of the toilet, finger tracing the chords on the page. Yes – this would be perfect.

The lyrics would come later. But for now, he had a song. A song for her.

Murtagh FitzGibbons arrived at the Bowery rehearsal space around eleven the next morning, not quite sure what to expect from his musical experiment.

After a ten-minute set comprised of three covers – Blondie, Mellencamp, and AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” – it was clear that Claire Beauchamp had found her voice as a bona fide rock and roll singer.

It was time to call up Joe Abernathy at Chrysalis Records.

The Sun and The Stars {2}

Previous parts: Part 1

Word Count: 3158

Warnings: some light nsfw content

Originally posted by rohgers

You have to leave. That man knew you and if anyone knew you, then it was time to leave, but you were thrown off by what he’d called you. My star. What a strange thing to call someone.

You couldn’t recall a single thing about this man but the way he looked at you, with a certain tenderness in his clear blue eyes…it unnerved you. He knew you and something deep inside you told you that he cared for you, which was unthinkable. No one cared for you.

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On reverse retellings-gender swap

Here on tumblr we’re comfortably throwing around (and taking in) ideas that stretch the mind, and attempt to cross the boundaries of society confines and stereotypes. Which is cool, but sometimes it can get a bit… detached from the actual real world that we’re trying to change (but still, lardely, haven’t, cause change is hard, if not impossible.)

So, basically, tumblr-land can be miles away from the whole rest of the land. It’s important to remember that this is a place of ideas, but not of the realization of these idas. That happens in the outside world, the real world, known also as

Originally posted by 8octopie

Yeah.

Immediately you’re going: “Oh no, don’t ruin it. Don’t expose it to THEM. THEY don’t get it.”

But they must. Just whining to each other on here, although fun, won’t change anything. Going out and doing stuff will.

So, let’s do an experiment, shall we?

We shall.

Originally posted by blunt-science

(Trust me, I’m a physicist.)

Let’s take this (amazing, if I say so myself) idea: A reverse retelling of Jane Eyre.

Originally posted by shosakurai

(yum)

Points:

She is the one with the sercret, mad spouse hidden somewhere, thirsting for her flesh.

She is the one who wanted to grasp that little glimpse of happiness with another man, even though she knew if was forbidden.

She is the one who has to be set on fire (both metaphorically and literally) before she can be free of her demons.

She is the one who needs to be rescued from the horrors of her own life, and they both have equal flaws and good things to bring to the relationship. (In the book, Rochester needs to be freed of his wife, but other than that he’s supposed to bring more to the marriage, not morally, but materially.) In this reverse story, they are equals morally. Although she’s still kind of poorer, so that stays the same, as do a lot of other things, (because Charlotte is a genius and that story is already waaaay ahead of its time, and people would probably hate SO much on it because of feminism and stuff, but they can’t cause it’s a classic and you go, girl.)

Originally posted by ladybethcassel

What if he, in reverse, has had a sad, emotionally abusive childhood, and has lived a dry, melancholy life? While drownig in riches (nice contrast there). 

What if he is the unspoilt one, has never given his heart to any woman, nor has be promised marriage to one, although he’s had women salivate after him for years?

What if he is the one who has to come back to her in the end, and find her ruined, and promise to her that she is more worthy of him now than she ever was?

What if he has to rescue her morally and emotionally as much as she? (That’s the only thing that doesn’t happen in the book, Jane is the moral anchor throughout, and he’s trying not to drown in the sea of his sins. But what if she is a sinner too?)

What if, in short, the roles are reversed? What if the woman is the one with the guilty secret? Is she then worthy of love? Do we even dare to consider it? What if the man is left bewildered and wondering if she likes him AT ALL, and asking her to trust him with her secrets, and left at the altar (or near it)? What if he is the second man in her life (the non-virgin antitrope -is that even a word? Now it is) but she the first woman in his?

What if the man, for once, is not the one in need of emotional rescuing, but does the rescuing himself, even though he isn’t qualified to do it? But he becomes someone who can lead them noth to a stronger moral standard. He isn’t the rescuer, but he BECOMES the rescuer. Because there’s nobody that will save him, if he won’t do it himself. That’s what I’m talking about. What if he is their only hope of ever working things through?
What if she is good and kind and faithful, but maimed? Ruined? Is it good/romatic/relatable that he should want her at all? And is she in a place to even be attracted to him, after what has been done to her?

What if they are both ruined, the girl as well as the guy?

Originally posted by stupidteletubbie

Well, I’ll tell you what happens then.

People don’t GET IT. Most people. Some do. And yay. But most don’t get it. (Or if they get it, they don’t like it.) Ewwwww why isn’t she pure? Ewww she’s married, I don’t read books about girls like THAT. Ewwwww that’s not a heroine, that’s a *** Ewww why would he want her? Ewww Eww Ewwwww

Yeah.

In case you don’t realize what I’m talking about yet, it’s not ok for a woman to have a dark secret, to need rescuing, to not hold herself to a higher moral standard. All the things that make us go “my poor baby” for Rochester, would make us go “ewwwww” for Jane.


Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

That’s gender swap in the real world, my friends. How do I know that? Because of this. I did it, you see. I did the experiment. And I am thankful every day for people who GOT the story from the first second, like @tea-books-lover @velutluna @pagesfullofstars @celebangel @bassguitarwitch and soooo many others who beta-read, reviewed, or just plain encouraged me with this outlandish idea.

Because, let me tell you.

I’ve gotten hate. (The ewwwws we were talking about, see above. So many EWWWS)

Originally posted by sheepy-shenanigans

ewe? close enough. 

I’ve even seen people read the synopsis and go, why would I read a book about a heroine like that? I don’t read books about ruined heroines.

People message me (most of them don’t dare post reviews) telling me they loved the writing but WTH? I reply, it’s reverse. They say ewww the heroine isn’t pure. I say she’s like Rochester, he isn’t pure. They say well, yeah, but he’s a guy. It’s ok for the man. That’s not a Jane Eyre retelling (A LOT of them don’t even get that. They don’t even recognize the Jane Eyre plotline or the characters once I swapped the genders. I mean it when I say it’s a different world out there, you guys. People have no idea. No. Idea.) I say -I usually say nothing, or just bye, but if it’s a nice person who wants answers, I reply- it’s the same story, governess goes to work for rich dude, mad spouse, fire, impossible love, morals, wedding stopped, the works. But it’s reverse.

There’s even lines in the book that are a direct nod to the masterpiece.

“You are my bright angel.”

“You can be mended, if once you were ruined.”

“Take off your mask, little ghost.”

“You tranfix me quite.” (Ok, that’s a lie, I didn’t put that last one in, just love it.)

Aaaaan feels.

Anyway, I am really happy with how this story turned out (and a lot of other people are happy too, it seems -yay- special thanks to the person who left this

 in lieu of a review, you’re my favorite thing in the world, person). And if I can do a TINY BIT to bring about some change in this world, then:

1. Books are the way to do it (or one of the best ways, subtle but powerful), I really believe this, and history backs it up.

2. I am proud and happy and blessed.

3. I don’t mind the occasional thick head trying to push itself into my inbox. Maybe it’s the sign of someone trying to wake up. Or refusing to wake up. But you know what? Something made them almost wake up. And if that something was me… then that’s all I can ask for.

Anyway, I jsut wanted to share a bit of my experience on “the other side”, which something actually went out and did in real life. It changed me in so many ways, and I really hope it might have changed someone else too. Even the littlest bit.

I always reblog reverse story ideas, and now you know why they’re so close to my heart, but I wanted to share my story of actually going out and DOING THE THING. You should always do the thing, even if you’re scared. Also, if you’re scared, I’m here. Talk to me. I know about scared.

Which brings us to:

Write.

Originally posted by lamefreek

Read read read

Then write write write.

Then repeat.

Learn the rules, and break them. Like Charlotte did. Like a boss.

Let’s keep writing new things, let’s break the rules, let’s be respectful and educated, and then let’s think outside the box. Let’s RUIN the box (see what I did there? Pun, anyone? No? Ok.) 

Who’s with me?

Better Off

Bucky x reader modern au

Summary: Everyone thinks you’re fine.  The truth was you’ve never been worse.  And seeing Bucky with some new blond doesn’t help.

Words: 1,420

Warnings: Angst, like one curse word?

@sorryidontspeakgrounder-world   


“Y/N!  How have you been?” Wanda asked you as she wrapped you in a hug.  It took you a few minutes to respond to her hug.  You haven’t seen her in a month.  

Not since you were with Bucky.

“Hey Wanda.” you hug her back.  She pulls away, placing her hands on your shoulders to look you up and down.

“You look great!  Did you lose some weight?” she gives her a big genuine smile.  You return, only yours is fake.  You had gotten better at doing it.

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Catfish || Conor Maynard

send requests here!

summary: where y/n is convinced the guy she loves is a catfish

word count: 1.4k

request: Hi! I love your writing! Can you please do an imagine where Conor meets the reader on a chat room and they fall in love even when there’s distance between them and Conor is afraid to tell her who he is and when he does she doesn’t know who Conor Maynard is and it’s all funny and fluffy (idk if it made any sense lol)

//

She knew from the start that it wasn’t practical, but her head and her heart never typically agreed on important matters.

For months, Y/N found herself becoming completely infatuated with him.  He was the person she needed him to be, to be the comfort and escape from reality she so desperately wanted.  She found herself thinking of him all hours of the day, even making excuses with her friends to sneak in short a phone call, just to hear his voice.  However, there was one small problem: the pair had never met in person.  Actually— neither had a clue what the other looked like.

Late night boredom, which arose from avoiding a massive amount of uni assignments, somehow led Y/N to an online chatroom, something she hadn’t done since she was in her early teens.

It was all for fun, she didn’t expect anything to come out of it.

She spent over an hour chatting away with strangers, discussing shows and movies, and other aimless topics the others brought up.  It wasn’t until she mentioned her music taste that the two struck up a real conversation.   They bonded over old school artists, and it seemed that all of their most loved songs of all time were identical.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she had asked for his number rather than any form of social media.  Maybe she liked the anonymity of it all. There were no limitations when she couldn’t put a face to the person on the other end of the phone.  He felt the same. They had never talked to someone quite like each other. No judgements, no expectations, just a connection that was indefinable.  

Their conversations lasted all day.  From the moment they woke up to seconds before they went to sleep, they were talking to each other. She told him secrets she hadn’t ever explained to anyone else.  He told her she was the only person he felt like just wanted to talk to him for who he was, without any personal gain.  She never quite understood what he meant, but accepted it nonetheless.

It’s not to say that they weren’t curious.  Despite living a few hours away, they had made plans to hang out a handful of times. But every time they were set to meet, Conor suddenly had an emergency pop up hours before.  

Time after time, she had forgiven him, because she could feel that she was in love with him.  He reassured her that he felt the same, and that he wanted to meet her more than anything, but there were some things he couldn’t say no to.  It was always the same sort of excuse.

“Y/N, I really am sorry, something just came up with work.”

“At the job you never want to go tell me about,” she snapped.  They had been talking for almost a year, but he still avoided the topic, only giving minutiae details.  He said he worked for a music label in London, but couldn’t tell her everything in case he accidentally spilled something important.  “You know, I’ve always been honest with you, it’s not fair that you can’t be like that with me,” she added.

“It’s just more complicated than I can explain, I have to go. I’ll call you later okay?”

“I guess so,” she sighed before ending the call.

After he bailed for the fourth time, she was starting to think her friends were right.

She had waited five months before she ever mentioned Conor’s name to her friends.  She was apprehensive to what they might say.  And she was right.

“Y/N, how can you say you’re in love with someone and not have any clue who they really are? You don’t even know his last name. For all you know if could be a forty year old man and that’s why he won’t meet you, he’s probably a catfish.  This isn’t a real relationship.”

It didn’t make sense to the outside world. But it made sense to Conor and Y/N.  It was theirs, not anybody else’s.  They decided it wasn’t the right timing to make it official, since they weren’t just a short drive away.  But they talked about how maybe one day they could be.  She only had a few more classes until she finished her degree, then they could be together. But with the way Conor continuously backed out, Y/N didn’t think that dream was ever going to become a reality.

Every time her mind drifted to those thoughts, she was reminded of all the conversations they had, and what they meant to the both of them. All the times he told her that it had been years since he felt this way about someone.  He was telling her everything she wanted to hear, and maybe that was her problem.  Maybe it was too good to be true.

When he called her later that night, she was determined to get real answers from him.  No more fabricated truth, no more little white lies, he was going to own up to his dishonesty.  Either that, or she would have to try and move on.

“What would it mean to you if one day we just stopped talking?” Y/N said into the phone, walking around her apartment before settling onto the couch.

“What do you mean?”

“Like if one day I just stopped answering your calls or texts, if I completely cut you off.”

“I’d be absolutely devastated, probably cry a little,” he joked, unpacking a bag from his latest excursion.

“Well, I’ve been debating if that’s what I should do.”

He paused at the foot of his bed, taken back by what Y/N had just told him.

“And why would you do that? You know how much I love you, I thought you felt the same.”

“Well I know I love you.  But I don’t think you’re telling the truth when you say it to me.”

“What do you mean? I wouldn’t just say it if I didn’t mean it.  You know how hard it is for me to open up to someone, Y/N.”

“Because when you love someone you don’t keep things from them.  And make up excuses when you had plans with them.  Four times.”

Conor realized he was going to have to come clean about everything, unless he wanted to risk losing the only person who kept him sane in the past year.  “If I tell you everything, will you promise not to think of me any differently?” He pleaded.

“I don’t know why I would treat you differently, unless you’re a fugitive on the run from the government or something,” she responded.  

He smiled to himself before readjusting the phone to his ear. “First thing’s first, I don’t work for the label.”  

She waited patiently for him to continue, hoping everything would make sense in the coming minutes.

“I don’t work for them, but I’m signed to the label.”

“So you sing?”

“Yes.”

“You never told me that,” she said.

“I didn’t want it to be a giveaway.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She asked, confused.

“Because I’m Conor…you know, Maynard,” he replied, sighing.  “If you heard me sing, you’d probably recognize my voice.”

There was a brief silence before she responded. He was terrified that he was about to lose the girl who made him believe in love again, all because he couldn’t be truthful from the start.

“Conor?”

“Yes.”

“Not to be dramatic or anything, but I really have no clue who Conor Maynard even is,” she laughed.

“Seriously? You really don’t know?”  He replied, half-offended, half-relieved. “You’ve never heard of the album Contrast? Really big like five years ago? It even went number one,” he joked.

“I’ve told you, I’ve never really listened to the radio, I only like old stuff,” she confessed, giggling to herself.  “I’ll google you, give me a minute.”

“Oh god..”

Scrolling on her laptop, she searched through dozens of articles and images.  “Apparently you’re famous.”

“I mean, I guess, yeah.  That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, everyone just wants something from me.  I can’t believe you don’t know who I am, I’m kind of hurt actually,” he said sarcastically.

“None of that matters to me, I love you for you.  Not because of an album call Contour.”

“I think you mean Contrast,” he chuckled.  It was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulder, he could finally be his full self.

“Isn’t that what I said?” She smirked to herself, still amused at the whole thing. “Now that the secret’s out, I expect a proper date.  And no more excuses, Mr. Maynard.”

“I promise, love.  At least you’ll know who to look for.  Do I get to see what you look like now?”

“Nope, I guess you’ll just have to actually show up this time,” she smiled.

Fire

Summary: There’s a fire at the Gallagher house, Mickey finds out that Ian’s the only person still in the house, and saves him.

Word Count: 1211


Mickey had heard there was a big fire at one of the houses on North Wallace so he quickly grabbed his coat and ran out of the house to see which house it was. A worried pain grew inside of his chest as he ran. It would be terrible if it was Ian’s house.

When he approach the street of the fire, he saw loads of people surrounding the Gallagher house. They seemed overly frantic. As he got closer, he searched the crowd and saw that Ian wasn’t anywhere in sight.

He speedily made his way to the group and asked, “Where’s Ian?” Mickey is voice was impatient and nervous.

“He’s the only one still inside,” Debbie cried. He could tell that no one even wonder why he was there because they were so upset. They were way too distract to be worried about anything else.

“Where? Where inside is he?” He took off his jacket, preparing to run inside. Selflessness was never Mickey’s strong suit, but when it came to Ian, it was a different story– and right now, Ian Gallagher needed to be saved.

Debbie couldn’t speak through her tears so he turned to Fiona. “Fiona, where the fuck is he?”

“His bedroom,” she said shakily. “He- he was taking a nap, we didn’t have time to get him,” she said as tears ran down her face. Suddenly he bolted into the house, not hearing any screams of protest– which he wasn’t sure if that was because he was too focused to notice them or if that was because no one really screamed.

The second he got in the house he was surrounded by smoke. The fire was mainly in the kitchen so he couldn’t help but think how lucky it is that there’s two staircases in this house. He ran up the steps and into Ian’s room.

There was more smoke in the bedroom than anywhere else upstairs because his room was directly above the kitchen. Give it a few minutes and the room would’ve definitely been lit into flames. Ian was coughing terribly. When Mickey got to him, he threw him over his shoulder and covered the redhead boy’s mouth from inhaling any more smoke– he figured he’d been less affected by the smoke than Ian, so it’d be better to help him.

When Mickey got them down the stairs, he immediately could tell that the fire had spread. The flames started to reach the living room couch, and more smoke had filled the area. Holding his breath, he ran out the front door.

He carefully placed Ian on the grass and knelt down next to him. Ian was now unconscious due to the lack of oxygen. “C’mon, baby, you gotta stay here with me,” he pleaded and cradled the boy in his arms. “Please, Ian. You need to be okay,” he whimpered. “I need you to be okay.”

Fortunately the ambulance and EMT’s arrived just on time. Ian was the first person they came to. They quickly hooked him up to an oxygen tank and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. “Is anyone riding with us?”

The eldest Gallagher sibling stepped forward. “Me,” Fiona said. “And him,” she pointed at Mickey and waved for him to come along. He raised his eyebrows, but obliged because he was too tired to ask questions and too worried about Ian to care that she now knows about his relationship with her brother.

Before the ambulance drove off, Fiona instructed Kev to drive the other kids to the hospital. She knew they’d all want to see Ian.

The ride to the hospital was hectic. Fiona answered questions about Ian’s medical records and Mickey sat in silence while holding Ian’s hand. When they arrived to where they needed to be, the EMT’s instructed Fiona and Mickey to stay in the waiting room until further notice.

The two of them sat silently for a few moments until Fiona was staring at Mickey– who was uncontrollably shaking. “Why’d you do that?” She asked.

“Do what?” Mickey replied even though she knew exactly what she was asking.

“Get him out of there. Why?”

He put his head down. “Can’t you fucking tell?”

She nods. It’s clear that the whole situation has put the eldest Gallagher sibling in a state of wonderment. “Thank you,” she said genuinely. “You risked your life for him, Mickey.”

“I’d do it again,” he said under his breath. There was no energy in him to tense up when talking about the relationship, he just didn’t care at the moment.

Fiona let out a soft smile and nodded her head. Though the idea of Mickey Milkovich being with her brother was terrifying and odd, she couldn’t help but be thankful that Ian had him. “Even though my family is probably gonna know now, we won’t tell anyone about you two–”

She gets cut off when the doctor approaches them to tell them that they can go see him. When they walk into the room they find Ian watching TV. “Hey,” he says, not realizing Mickey is behind his sister. When he does see him his jaw drops open. “Mickey?”

Instead of responding, Mickey walks to his side and kisses him on the lips. “Hi,” he says when they separate. Ian looks confused and amazed, which is what Mickey expected from that. “How do you feel?”

“Um–” Ian tries to snap back into awareness. “Sort of like I’m on fire. Could be worse though.” Fiona and Mickey nod with a frown.

“He saved you, Ian. Mickey fucking Milkovich ran into a burning house to get you out,” she said. Mickey looked down bashfully. “You better hold onto him.”

“What?” Ian stared at Mickey in astonishment. “Why would you do that? You could’ve gotten hurt.” He frowns, but inside his heart is fluttering at the idea of Mickey being his savior. “Because I fucking love you, dumbass,” Mickey sucks in a breath as he realizes what he said. “I couldn’t let you in there to die.” Fiona grins as she hears these words coming from a Milkovich.

Ian’s jaw is dropped open once again. When he fully understands what Mickey is saying, he smiles. “I love you too, Mickey.” He waves for him to come over again so he can kiss him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t ever fucking get that close to dying again, alright?”

“I promise–”

Ian gets cut off when Kev, V, and his siblings come rushing into the hospital room. They immediately ask Ian if he okay, and he nods. When Carl notices Mickey standing in the corner of the room, he cocks an eyebrow. “What’s he doing here?”

“Are you stupid, Carl?” Debbie pushes her brother. “Did you not see him go into the house to save Ian? Clearly they are in love.” Everyone’s jaws drop open because they can’t believe Debbie would say something like that or even be that observant.

Lip scratches his head as he realized that it may be true. “Well that can’t be true,” he says as way to press into Mickey.”

“Yes it is, asshole,” Mickey glares that the oldest Gallagher boy. Everyone still maintains their shocked expression but they seem to accept it. Maybe accidentally coming out was a good thing.

Brummie - Finn Shelby

Request: from anonymous: Can you please do a Finn imagine where your a shelbys brother childhood friend ( your Finns age ) and your also in a gang which are friends with the Peaky blinders and work together sometimes. Finn has a crush on you so his brothers and polly tease him also help him to find out if you like him back . Thank you if you do it , love your writing ❤️😃💜

Brummie - Finn Shelby

Finn was down early in the morning, before his brothers were even around. He was dressed and ready to leave, eating the breakfast Polly had cooked as quickly as possible. The door to the betting shop opened, Tommy walked in with Arthur and John. He eyed Finn at the kitchen table but didn’t say anything to him.  

“What’s with him?” Tommy asked when he’d gone into the back room with Polly.  

“He’s eager to get to Bordesley. Think he likes the Fowles’ girl.” Polly whispered so she didn’t catch his attention. 

“We’re going up for business. I’m not taking him along if he’s going to be distracted.” Tommy looked back into the kitchen where Arthur and John were sat at the table with Finn.  

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Drunken Confessions

A/N: A request, finally!!!! I’m so excited to write this, also don’t forget to send in request! Thank you to @linmanuclmiranda for helping me edit this! She’s a lifesaver! PS: Did anyone get my How I Met Your Mother reference?

Prompt: Can I request something??? How about a Drunk!Lin confessing his love for the reader but the reader is all flustered and thinks it’s just the alcohol talking but it’s not. Idk you can elaborate more on that but I love your writing so much!! And If u have any fic recs with Drunk!Lin could u link them? Bc I really need more Drunk!Lin in my life. Thanks~

Pairing: Lin x reader

Warnings: alcohol, cursing (per usual)

Masterlist | Request!



As the costume manager for the musical “Hamilton” at the Richard Rodgers Theater, you were living the dream. You had been blessed with a love for musical theater, but cursed with an inability to sing. Costume manager was the next best thing; however, costumes weren’t  your only job. You made sure Leslie took off his wedding ring, all the mics worked, and you also made sure Anthony put his hair down to play Philip in act two which he often forgot. They had many different names for you such as: “angel in the wings,” “lifesaver,” and “the backbone of Hamilton.”

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Where Soul Meets Body- 6

Summary: Soulmate AU. Some people went their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmates. You were one of the lucky ones, to have found and fallen in love with the owner of the initials tattooed on your hip. When your soulmate’s best friend struggles to deal with a tragedy in his own life, you discover that you might not have been as lucky as you thought.

Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not MMF)

Warnings: (Series, not specifically this chapter: bad language, unprotected sex or sexual situations, drinking/alcoholism, drug use, violence, cheating, references to death, mutilation and trauma, maybe more.)

Words: 2539

Author’s Note: I went back through each part where people were asking to be tagged and have added all that I saw to the list. If I missed you or you would like to be tagged, shoot me an ask/reply/etc.
Tags at End

Master   Part 5

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

Bucky was in trouble. He knew it, and every time he crawled out of bed, where he’d most certainly not gotten a wink of sleep, and saw you, he only became more certain. You were always there, sitting at the dining room table in your pajamas or cooking pancakes that made the house smell like blueberries for days. Freshly brewed coffee always waited for the both of you, and you never got a cup before Bucky joined you in the kitchen.

It was no different today, as Bucky’s feet hit the cold tiles and he found you standing in front of the stove. He paused to look at you for a moment, admiring the way your shorts barely fit the curve of your ass, that tiny strip of flesh visible at the small of your back. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, reaching over you for coffee mugs as you flipped another pancake.

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We Can’t Pt. II ~Sirius

Its a little short, but it got to the point. I’ll probably do a part three if you guys want, maybe things will finally work out between you and Sirius…

Also, @evolutionofkatep asked me to tag her in this, so here you go, darling. 


You ran away from Sirius, leaving the mask with him. Trying to keep your head down, you wove trough the dances to find Dorcas. You found her dancing with a blond boy with a blue mask.

“I have to go.” You tapped her on the shoulder, “It’s your choice whether you go or stay.”

She turned to face your naked face and nodded.

“I’ll go.” She told you sympathetically.

She curtsied tp the boy politely and you two walked quickly out of the room.

As we reached the front lawn, we took off our heels and ran to your muggle car you had stashed in the bushes. You slid into the driver’s seat and sighed deeply, thinking about what to say.

“What happened?” Dorcas asked.

“Sirius Black happened.” I laughed in disbelief.

“Oh.” She trailed off.

Sirius Black was the heartbreaker of your year at Hogwarts. (An exaggerated reputation in your opinion). He was the son of the respectable Orion and Walburga and was known for his rebellious nature. He caught you in his trap.

You couldn’t tell if it was his devilishly handsome smile or the way he spoke. But the boy made you melt. And the kiss. The kiss. At first you were mad at him for trying to pull that on you, but eventually you resigned to it. And when you left, the ghost of his lips could still be felt cross your skin.

“I want to see him again.” You blurted.

“Don’t! That’s a dumb idea He’s the son of the meanest purebloods in the century-“

“He kissed me!” You interrupted.

“Well then I’m definitely sure he’s playing you and even if he wasn’t do you really want to get into trouble with his parents. I’m sure they wouldn’t approve of you two seeing each other.” She sighed.

“I don’t think he was playing.” You said, a tad unsure of yourself.

“Fine, go for it then,” Dorcas scoffed, “I’ll be here when you get burned.”

“Let’s just go,” You said turning the ignition key to start the car, “how was your night with your boy?”


That was three weeks ago. You were still on summer holiday and nothing had been heard from Sirius Black.

You had Dorcas over a lot and you two laughed about the time you crashed a party, but you never talked about Sirius and what happened. You two swam in the lakes in the countryside and ran through fields full of wildflowers and climbed trees in the woods near your house, but you never thought of Sirius Black.

One night, after Dorcas and some other friends left your house you were cleaning up your room from guests and getting ready to turn in for the night. But there was an incessant tapping on your window. You thought it might be your owl trying to get in, but you were sure your owl was downstairs. Nevertheless, you opened your window and found nothing.

From the second floor of your house, the ground looked so dark and far away, you couldn’t see anything.

“Hey.” A voice called.

“Who’s there?” You asked, unsure of who might be trying to get your attention at the late hour it was.

A light appeared and illuminated the face of the boy you had forgotten, Sirius Black.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, trying not to wake anyone inside the house.

“Just wanted to see you again.” He shrugged.

You looked back at your room then out the window again. Sirius was smirking up at you and you couldn’t help but scoff and smile at your feet.

“You going to let me up?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” You teased, “what are you planning on doing once you get you here?”

“We could talk or we could do anything else you want.” He replied.

You thought for a few moments, then grabbed your wand. Casting a spell to make him float up to the ledge of your window, you let him in. You figured it was a bad idea, but you were self-aware, he wasn’t going to get anywhere you didn’t want him to go. You both sat on your bed, facing each other \

“So.”

“So.” You repeated, much like the first night you met.

“How’s your holiday been?” He asked.

“it’s been good,” You replied, “very fun.”

“Yeah, you broke into an exclusive party.” He smirked.

“That I did.” You laughed at the memory of you and Dorcas picking the lock on the back door with a bobby pin.

“Were you with someone else?” He asked.

“Yeah, my best friend, Dorcas. I’m sure you’ve seen her around school.”

“Blonde hair, bright eyes?” He asked.

“That’s the one.”

“You know she almost slapped me once.” He laughed.

“Sounds like her. What did you do?” You asked him, laughing at your friend.

“I uh- turned some girl’s hair pink.” He smiled at the memory.

“That was it?” You scoffed.

“Well, I guess I was rude about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I guess you shouldn’t be rude then.” You smiled.

He laughed a little.

“I guess so.”

 

“What’s it like, being the son of Walburga and Orion Black?” You asked, not able to contain the question anymore. You had the question for years, but never actually talked to Sirius enough (actually at all) to ask.

“I don’t know.” He said, either trying to think or avoid the question. You stayed silent hoping he would finish his thought.

“I guess it’s good,” he started, “I have everything I could want.”

“You don’t seem to happy about it.”

“I’m not,” you gave him a quizzical look, “it’s my parents.”

“What about ‘em?” You prompted him to talk more.

“They uh- they think different than I do,” he paused, “And they don’t like that.”

The conversation came to a natural, kind of awkward stop. You could tell you hit a sensitive spot. You were just staring at each other. Looking deep into his eyes you didn’t even realize he was leaning forward until his lips brushed against yours.

After looking back up at you, expecting you to pull away, something you didn’t do, he pressed his lips firmly to yours. It was just like before, like fire but soft, a few moments later I became eager, he changed the position of the kiss, making It more passionate.

He kissed down your jaw and neck, biting at the skin there, causing you to shudder. Soon enough you found your shirt hanging off your back and his fingers playing at the waistband of your pants.

“Sirius.” You moaned, trying to clear your fogged mind of him.

“What?” He breathed from his place at your collarbone.

“We can’t do this.” You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the need for him.

“Says who.” He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, making you comfortable enough to open your eyes again.

“Says the fact that you don’t really care about me.”

“Why do you say that.” He looked, almost, hurt.

“Because that’s what you do.” You explained as if he didn’t know, “you sleep with a girl and never speak to her again.”

“I-“

“I don’t want to be one of those girls.”

“I’m not going to leave this time.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” You asked.

“You don’t, but you can let me prove it.” He answered.

You thought for a moment.

“And if you do stay, what does that make us?” You scoffed, “is this going to be a regular thing?”

“What do you want?” Was his response.

“I don’t know right now.” You sighed.

“Let me know when you do.” He got up and went to the open window, and jumped out onto the ground, leaving you alone.

You lay back on your bed, tracing the skin where his hands were, wishing he was still with you. You were intrigued by the boy. Surely he had to feel something too, but there were too many questions. And though you wanted to, you knew deep down that until you found security in him, you wouldn’t sleep with him and become one of his trophies.

You were too interested in him to have your heart broken by him quickly. And even if you were together, you knew both your parents wouldn’t approve. But then you also thought that their opinion wouldn’t matter much, what could they do anyway?

Summer holiday was almost over and soon you would be back at school, forgetting about him, but you weren’t really sure you wanted to forget. The looks he gave you, the smoldering kisses, the awkward conversation in which he seemed genuine. Did you really want to forget that? No, you didn’t, but you were sure he was going to forget you.

If You Could See Me

After 1.06 what if Betty and Jughead decided to keep their relationship a secret, or rather attempted to. 

A fic about Betty and Jughead working out the facts of their new relationship and cute, fluffy moments… also how the group finds out about bughead.

Slight AU does not follow the events of 1.07 (the group already knows)

This is an edited/reuploaded version of a fic that was not to the standard I wanted.

————————————– Chapter 1 —————————————–

Jughead led Betty into her house and up to her bedroom. She shivered with fear; if she were with anyone but Jughead, the shivers would have just been thought of as a result of being cold. He knew better. “It’s going to be okay Betty,” Jughead stated closing her bedroom door. “As crazy as your parents may be, they’re resilient. They’ll find Polly.” Jughead put his hands on her shoulders, a comforting gesture he felt was appropriate in this moment. As he looked into her worried eyes the only thing he wanted to do was pull her close and maker her feel safe and warm, but he worried.

They hadn’t discussed the kiss that had happened just hours earlier. Given, they haven’t had the time, Jughead didn’t know if Betty wanted him to hug her and he didn’t want to push his luck with the girl he cared so deeply for.

He had never felt like this with anyone from his past. A boy from a troubled home, a family torn apart. The only person he had ever connected with on any level before Betty was his best friend. He didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize what he had with Betty. She was his only constant, his only light. All Jughead hopes is that he did not destroy everything they had earlier that day.

Next thing he knew, Betty’s arms circled his waist, her head pressed against his chest. Without a second thought, Jughead moves his arms to hold Betty as close to himself as he could without suffocating the poor girl. He never thought the golden girl would want to come anyone near him. The slim chance that they were friends to begin with was more than Jughead could comprehend. He’s pretty sure that they would have never crossed paths, never given each other a second glance if they weren’t thrown together by tragedy.

A tragedy that allowed them to find each other, figuring out that her family wasn’t much different to his own. Her parents were just as manipulative and borderline insane as his own. The difference between the two is that Betty didn’t wear her pain on the outside, rather she kept it in. Jughead knew her better than anyone, the girl everyone saw as picture perfect in pastel was truly broken on the inside.

Jughead wore his pain on the outside, everyone knew his good days from his bad, when they cared enough to actually see him. She did, she saw him from the beginning. That’s what made them quite the pair. Jughead knew when to leave Betty to have her moments and he knew when to push. It seemed that everyone else in their lives just knew how to push.

“What did I do to deserve you in my life?” Betty mumbled against Jughead’s chest. Much to Jughead’s dismay, she pulled away, at least only slightly, to look into his eyes. He was enjoying having her close, even in the platonic sense that he believed she wanted.

The reality is that in that moment Betty wasn’t thinking about her parents, or Polly, or Jason’s murder. The only thing on her mind in this moment was that kiss. Amongst everything in their lives, the boy who was a master of words stumbled over them with nerves. It played back in her mind over and over. Remembering how desperate his face seemed just seconds before Jughead leaned into her, cupping her face with both hands. Not only did she not expect for the kiss to happen, but she didn’t expect to feel the way she did. Jughead was her rock, she had known that from the beginning, only solidifying as time moved forward. The kiss had opened up so much else.

For a long time, Betty had been unsure about her feeling for Jughead, it was all so confusing, but the kiss… the kiss. It had opened a floodgate of emotions. Emotions that now, thanks to Jughead, Betty believed she was ready to act on. “Juggie…” Betty sighed, turning away to go sit on her neatly made bed, unsure of what to say, unsure of where to start. If Jughead didn’t feel the same way, how would she feel? What if with everything going on with her family and Jason her head was a mess. She didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to risk another chance at happiness.

“Betty, what is it, what’s wrong?” Jughead grabbed Betty’s desk chair, moving it so he could sit in front of her. He wanted to be close enough to comfort her in a heartbeat while not knowing if she would be comfortable with him sitting so close to her, especially on her bed.

“We need to talk about what happened earlier,” Betty stated, shifting awkwardly to sit cross-legged at the edge of her bed. She looks down at her hands, suddenly nervous with the one person she’s comfortable to be herself with.

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Her (Yoongi x Reader)

- pt 1 -

summary: you love him, but he loves your best friend

genre: angst

length: 1,833 words

a/n: i got sad again so here’s another angst.

PART TWO

You and your best friend were close to BTS because your best friend was childhood friends with Namjoon. They grew up together in the same town and only just a year ago did they reconcile with each other. You could tell that she was still in love with him as much as she was when they were just children.

She had a lot of similarities with Namjoon. She loved music, especially hip hop. Her personality was bright and bubbly, and she also had that ‘leader vibe’ about her. She was also a great dancer.

Unlike you. You were quiet and more reserved. You usually kept things to yourself, and you weren’t too big on hip hop (like knowing every song and album of Ty Dolla Sign like she did). She pulled people in; she was charismatic and funny. Everybody loved her.

When you and her first met BTS, you noticed the way she pulled all of the boys in. She made them laugh, and she made them very interested in her. You weren’t jealous. You already knew that she’d be more interesting than you, and you were used to that. She was your best friend, too, so getting jealous was not good.

Yoongi, who you noticed was pretty quiet, didn’t take much notice in her. In fact, he was the most distant one out of the seven boys. With that, you grew curious over the boy and wondered why he was as quiet as you.

You had no guts to approach though, since you were shy around boys, especially attractive ones.

As you and your best friend hung out with BTS more, you slowly grew more comfortable with them. Yoongi remained distant as ever, as you’ve noticed, and you’ve come to find that being reserved was a common thing for the both of you. So you started to develop feelings for him.

You noticed how cold he acted to the other members. But you also noticed all of the things that he did for his members. When Taehyung fell asleep on the floor, Yoongi put a pillow underneath his head and a blanket on top of him. When there was only one last piece of chicken left, he would always give it to Jin because he knew how much Jin loved food. He would always buy Jungkook some lamb skewers whenever he had the chance, and he would give Jimin and Hoseok some advice whenever they needed help.

And most importantly to you, whenever you said something, he would always pay attention to you and show that he was listening.

You had approached him soon, and the two of you actually had a nice conversation. You could feel yourself slowly falling deeper and deeper into him. You were getting attached, and you felt that he actually liked you back.

Until one day, he got into a bad mood. None of the members knew how to deal with him when he was angry because they usually never saw him angry. When you tried to talk to him, he pushed you away and told you to leave him alone. It hurt, nonetheless, but what hurt more was what happened after.

Your best friend went to talk to him in their studio. You were just outside of the door, waiting for any news. You heard him yelling and you heard her calm voice. You knew that she was better at talking than you were, so you had no doubt that she would be able to help him with his problems.

The door was made with semitransparent glass, so you could barely make out figures through the door.

All of the sudden, the shouting stopped, and you noticed a larger body leaning against a smaller body. Yoongi was resting his head on her shoulder, his shoulders shaking from anger or pain. You felt your heart stop for a moment. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. They just stood there for a moment as your best friend comforted your crush.

They had a long conversation with each after they parted. You couldn’t make out a single word they were saying, but soon, you heard laughing. She had actually cheered him up.

Something that you weren’t able to do.

They went out to a cafe the next day. You were walking down the street and you saw them sitting across from each other through the window. Yoongi was laughing and smiling at what your best friend said as she excitedly told her story. That day, you felt something within you that you had never felt before.

__

Another day, you and Yoongi were playing video games with each other.

“Hey,” he suddenly asked as he pressed his buttons on his controller, “I have something to ask you, but you can’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

“What is it?” You said, eyes on the TV screen.

“What kind of gift do you think (bf/n) would like?”

You stopped pressing the buttons of your controller, the character on your screen froze in place.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he repeated again, “She just helped with my problem the other day and made me realize some important stuff, so I just wanted to thank her.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, thinking that it was okay with his explanation and started playing the video game again, “I think the other day, she said she needed some headphones with a good bass. I don’t know what that means, but it had something to do with her hip hop.”

“She likes hip hop?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, she’s always been into it once Namjoon-oppa had started getting into it, which was pretty young she told me.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “What about you? Do you like hip hop?”

“I listen to it sometimes, but I don’t know much about it,” you said, not thinking too much about your words.

“Hm, okay.”

You two drifted into a silence as the both of you played the video game. Then he asked a question that made your heart drop.

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

You turned to look at him as he stared at the tv screen with a stoic expression on his face. Yet you knew, you could see it and feel it that he was anxious about hearing your answer.

You wanted to lie and say yes, but that would have gotten you into a lot of trouble. You wanted to say that she liked Namjoon, but you made a promise to her that you would never tell a soul about her secret.

“No, she doesn’t,” you said quietly as your chest started to ache in an unfamiliar pain.

He didn’t reply to that, but you could see his small smile from the corner of your eye.

__

Another day, you saw Yoongi, Namjoon, Taehyung, and (bf/n) hanging out. You decided to join them when your best friend called you over. You sat down on the couch next to Taehyung. Yoongi was sat on the floor in front of you, listening intently to Namjoon speaking beside him. You watched as your best friend laughed at Namjoon, how she leaned against him and the way he looked at her endearingly.

You also watched the way Yoongi glanced at her shoulders that touched Namjoon’s, his stoic expression and clenched fist and jaw making your mood drop lower and lower.

Taehyung was just laughing along, having a good time, but also looking between you and Yoongi and wondering in the back of his head why the two of you weren’t laughing.

Despite that feeling that you had, you felt happier that your best friend and Namjoon were getting closer. She deserved to be with someone who made her happy, and you knew that Namjoon was a good pick for her.

__

Namjoon came to you quickly and asked about the things she liked. You happily obliged and helped him with his confession that he was planning on making.

Once he confessed to her, she immediately said yes to being his girlfriend, and you congratulated the new couple.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was quiet. He held a present in his hands. You knew that they were new headphones that you talked about the other day. You didn’t want to think about the possibility that Yoongi was also going to confess to your best friend that day.

__

You then found yourself falling deeper in love with him. You loved his laziness, his occassional corny jokes, his satirical humor, his relaxed personality. You loved the days you spent with him, where you two often sat in a comfortable silence, taking a nap on the floor because both of you had been really exhausted from that day. You loved the days you would sit in the studio and watch him work while you did your own work on your laptop. When you fell asleep on the uncomfortable couch because he was still working until 1am, he would place a blanket over you and then bring you some hot tea. He would gently wake you up later and then carry you back to the dorm until you got embarrassed and told him to put you down. Then, the two of you would rest comfortably in bed, in separate rooms of course.

But you hated the days when all he would do was stare at your best friend. When you two hung out with each other, and she would walk in, his eyes would immediately be on her, constantly glancing at her. He never noticed you staring at him in pain. It hurt when someone that you loved was in love with someone else, especially if that someone else was your own best friend.

Eventually, your best friend found out about your feelings for Yoongi. You told her that you didn’t have a chance because he liked her. She didn’t believe you at all and told you that she hadn’t looked at anyone but Namjoon.

As much as you begged her not to, she went to Yoongi to ask him who he liked. She wanted to prove to you that he liked you, and not her. You listened to them through the door.

“Yoongi, can I ask you something?” Your best friend asked and you felt your heart race in nervousness.

“What is it?” He sounded very interested, it was a completely different tone than what he used when he talked to you. You already knew how this was going to end.

“Who do you like?” She asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“Who do you like?” She repeated. “Someone told me you liked me, but I just want to make sure if it’s true or not. Please tell the truth.”

There was a long pause and your heart beat louder and louder in anticipation. You knew what the answer was going to be. You knew, but when he said it, you still felt tears run down your cheeks and your chest felt like it was being torn apart.

“I like you.”

Let Him Have Cake - A Nessian Fanfic

AO3 (<link)


Earlier…

Cassian laughed, “Good job, sweetheart.” She smiled at the praise, ignoring the stupid nickname. She’d gotten used to it by now, annoying as it was. He spread his arms in an invitation for a hug and, surprising even herself, she hugged him. Then she looked up at him, all sweaty from their training, his hair pulled up. He looked so good… So she went on her tiptoes and kissed him.

He seemed surprised. So surprised, in fact, that Nesta was afraid she had made a mistake and started to back away. But when she moved, his arms wrapped around her and brought her closer to him. It was a thing of a moment and he took control of the kiss.

Tentative, gentle, soft. She moaned as his tongue swept the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. Nesta opened as slowly as she dared, relishing the feel of his tongue as it reached hers. She couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t kissed before. This was better than the kisses she had experienced before. From the way his hands roamed carefully over her, pulling her close to him, to the way his lips coaxed hers, the feel of his hair as she twined her fingers through it…

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, holding on to one another, mouths together, but she felt herself start to shake. It wasn’t fear, she realized, it was anticipation. Where would his hands go next? How would it feel to let him touch her? More? More. More.

Cassian drew back, taking a deep breath and resting his forehead on hers. She tried to pull him back but he just chuckled, giving her a peck on the lips before pulling back again. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

He took a sharp intake of breath, “Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, “Yes,” she looked around, “maybe we should go somewhere else…?”

“We can go to my room if you want,” he said, looking a little surprised. She nodded.

She smiled shyly, taking his hand and pulling him toward his room. Everything that followed was almost a blur, kissing, touching, removing clothes, more kissing, more touching. Gentle, so gentle. As they moved to the bed she looked up at Cassian and knew that she wanted it, this, with him, right now. So when he asked if she was sure she didn’t hesitate, she said yes as firmly as she could, bringing him closer.

They kissed again, slow, gentle, obviously leading to something bigger, something new. He looked her in the eye as he ran his hands down her body. He groaned when he reached between her legs, feeling how wet she was for him. She bit her lip when he started rubbing circles around her clit. “Yes.” she hissed, “More.”

He settled between her legs as she nodded again. She shivered when he started kissing her neck, breathing in her scent, murmuring loving things in her ear.

His eyes were on hers when he moved to enter her. She gasped at the feeling of him in her, so strange yet right she realized, undeniably right. She moaned when he moved, at the feeling of it. He was everywhere, around her, on top of her, inside her and her body was burned with the pleasure of it.

“Is this okay?” he said quietly, moving again. Her hands framed his face, pulling him down so their lips met, her answer obvious in the gestures. He was panting when he ended the kiss and rested his forehead on hers.

“Yes,” she said quietly, looking him in the eyes as he continued moving inside her, finding a rhythm.

The way he moved, his breathy voice in her ear telling her how beautiful she was, that he felt so much for her, that he had never felt this way about anyone before.

And all she could think to say was “Cassian, Cassian, Cassian.”


Now…

Nesta felt pretty bad. She had fallen asleep with Cassian after they’d been together, but she had woken up and panicked. So she’d fled, summoned her wings and fled. She’d just left.

And now she was sitting in the corner of the spare room at Feyre and Rhys’s townhouse. She had needed to talk to Feyre, she was the only one that would have understood her. And she had. She had nodded, “Nez, I get that you panicked. Really, I do. But why did you leave?”

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