and i achieve the exact opposite

anonymous asked:

Pls share any thoughts you might have on Barry Allen (you always have such wonderful thoughts about every character and amazing grasps on their characters and poor Barry has been falling victim to mischaracterisation at every turn for the past eight years)

he calms me down. superman symbolizes the good people can achieve and be even in their darkest moments but flash makes me feel that people are already good, in a way? he’s like the exact opposite of an anxiety attack where everything looks scary but the silly kind of scary where you know it’s all just in your head. he’s the guy who doesn’t get fazed by something you thought was the end of the world so you catch yourself thinking “hey? hey. this isn’t bad. yeah this isn’t bad”

he brings so much positivity to the table and it’s not the annoying kind, it’s the “i can make the day better” in a very chill, matter-of-fact tone, which could so easily sidetrack his character and make him be a bit faster than life, yet he cares and will go out of his way to slow down just to show it. he’s so genuinely kind and that’s only multiplied by the flash family who are, to date, one of the most lovable families the dcu has had on such a big, extended-members basis

every flash is so laid back in their own way, but the reason i consider barry “my” flash is because i always found a hint of something more in his character. i can see the sacrifices he’s had to make in the way he carries himself but i can also see the crystal clear acknowledgement that he’s one of the very, very few people who hold the power to change the tides so monstrously. so he accepts it. he accepts that responsibility. he more than readily accepted it when he very first got his powers because he knew he was now the only person who could finally find his mother’s real killer and drop his dad’s charges; he accepted it when he tried to keep his mother from dying in the first place just to have the entire timeline completely turn around because of his actions. and instead of being okay with this new reality, instead of turning a blind eye which was so much easier to do than to actively try and do his duty (and possibly die in the process), he did what was right for literally everyone else except for him and lost her all over again so things could be the way they were

he’s so invested. it’s the only appropriate word i can use to describe him. you can see how much he inspired everyone who met him just by the legacy he left after his death, by how the other heroes talked about him in near reverence. the respect they had for all he had attained, how they held him as the gold standard for others to achieve (not just the justice league but the entire world). he’s had one of the most heroic deaths in Crisis on Infinite Earths, one of his last few words literally being “there is always hope” even as he was willingly getting torn apart to save everyone he loved and knew, and the people he’d never met or would likely ever meet. why? because he could. so he did

the reason i began by putting clark and barry side by side is because i consider clark to be one of the most human characters in the entire dcu and yet barry still has something more, however small the difference might be. he’s in every sense of the word a real hero and a genuinely good human being

“You achieved the exact opposite of me liking you.”

“I can totally be cheerful! I mean, look at my smile. Isn’t that good enough?”

“My best, your worst. It works out really well in my opinion.”

“Let me wallow in my bitterness for a bit longer.”

“I know that was supposed to be a serious quote, but you’re not using it right.”

“I refuse to argue with them, so I let them think they’ve won. I get the satisfaction of knowing they haven’t.”

anonymous asked:

I've always considered myself as a mix of Hufflepuff and Slytherin, but I feel like they are the exact opposite

Slytherin and Hufflepuff are two houses that are often seen as polar opposites but have a lot more in common than you might think:

  • both of them really value hard work and pushing yourself to achieve your goals
  • both are very loyal to their close friends or family
  • both have an aggressive side that they’re not afraid to unleash every now and then
Lady in Red

One of my favorite female characters (besides my precious ray of sunshine Lizzy) would have to be Madam Red. This is a woman who broke social barriers, became a doctor, literally transformed herself into a bona fide society diva and yet. All these achievements were mired in her own insecurity and self-loathing. She became a doctor so she could find a cure for Rachel’s various illnesses and while some might say this is as pure and altruistic a reason as they come, I think it’s the exact opposite. Ann was always insecure—even as a child—and envied her sister’s beautiful auburn-gold hair, her beauty, grace, and wit and how she was probably the focus of their parents attention, due to her being constantly sick. Ann’s decision to become a doctor was twofold—one to genuinely help her sister and two, to “fix” Rachel so maybe she herself could get some attention every once in a while.  

Ann also became the glorious, flirtatious Madam Red we know and love because she thought Madam Red might be the sort of woman Vincent Phantomhive would love. This is fatalistic attraction at its finest—unhealthy, improbable, insane, and so beautifully addictive to reflect upon. Madam Red used all her ingenuity and wit to overcome (or pretend to overcome) her shyness, insecurity, and weaknesses all for the love of a man—and not just any man, the man who’s betrothed to marry her own dear sister. How could you not be intrigued by Madam Red? She is, by far, one of the most complex and complete characters in all of Black Butler.

Highly aware but also blind; intelligent but also ignorant; loving but also fiercely selfish—Madam Red’s psyche has been battered and bruised and her encounters with Grell warped her fragile sense of morality even further. (It’s fascinating to think just how broken Madam Red became, to the point she began killing other people—whether that was symbolic of the hatred she felt for herself, who knows.) She is the finest example of a tragic heroine who was not a victim. Madam Red fought—she fought all her life: against the stereotypes and prejudices towards women in the 19th century, against discrimination of her own red hair and bookish, introverted personality (women were meant to be sparkling examples of grace and elegance after all), and against the brutal heartbreak of watching her sister get the man she herself was obsessed with. (I hesitate to use the term “love” because, let’s face it—Vincent only paid Ann a single compliment. I have no doubt Ann romanticized him to medieval levels and was in love with the idea of Vincent. But that, in my opinion, just makes her all the more compelling.)

To this day Madam Red is probably one of my favorite fictional characters mainly because she’s someone every person can relate to. The feelings of insecurity, of not belonging, of always being second best…the main difference is, Madam Red’s determination (and obsession) drove her to overcome all this by transforming herself into another person entirely. She modeled her secondary persona on a femme fatale worthy of Vincent Phantomhive—and that, I think, is one of the finest examples of gothic tragedy in Kuroshitsuji.

Sangwoo’s plans are usually decent. There is the whole connection Jieun to Kim. He even bleaches and reseals his floors because he wants to get rid of any hint of blood that was on it. He is always supremely calm under pressure and his plans are always thought out and ready. 

Though the one thing he actually isn’t that strict about is Bum. Sangwoo isn’t treating Bum like he is a piece of evidence against him. He actually has certain emotions towards him it seems, and he actually sometimes does things for Bum for himself instead of doing things to Bum for himself, if that makes sense. Yes, they both end up making Sangwoo feel good, but in one scenario Sangwoo treats him sort of like another person while in the other he is just an object.

So, did Sangwoo make Bum kill Jieun just so if he tries to leave, he’d get jailed? 

I think Sangwoo was trying to make Yoon Bum want to stay with him but not in that way. Weirdly enough, Sangwoo does get bothered if Yoon Bum rejects him or wants to leave. He takes that as a huge offence as the whole damn reason why Sangwoo let him live in the first place is because Yoon Bum told him he loved him, and so anything he does that says otherwise is Sangwoo feeling stupid that he believed him and didn’t kill him that first day. 

The killing of Jieun, in my own opinion, was something like someone who is married trying to do something for their spouse to liven up their marriage and bring love back into it. This also explains why Sangwoo was so harsh when Yoon Bum’s reply was “I don’t feel anything” while the whole thing was meant to do the exact opposite. 

Sangwoo’s first objective was this, to confirm the bond between them, to liven up Yoon Bum’s feelings, while the jail part was underlying but what he achieved in Bum was the opposite. Bum is first afraid of being jailed, and then afraid of leaving Sangwoo.

I hope this clears up why Sangwoo is so unimpressed with the way Bum is acting. The way he is feeling now is sort of like moving in with someone because they say they love you but the moment you do they stop talking to you and just act all pissy everyday. 

DAY 3450

Jalsa, Mumbai                  Sept 7/8,  2017              Thu/Fri  1:08 AM 






They read my words .. they express themselves about them .. they ponder and wonder the condition of the text .. they add through their own conception the interpretations that they read between the lines .. they follow at times .. at times they disagree .. they command the design they wish for .. they need the react of personal feel .. 

And when they do .. they connect to a world unseen and unknown ..

That is not mine .. nor was it intended to be .. it was just random thought and express .. nothing of magnitude and interest .. nothing to signify or draw attention to .. just ..


But it is there and validated by presence .. 


And that is the interesting aspect of witnessing and seeing the printed word .. on paper, on net on a wall or painting .. anywhere ..

Our minds are set by the content and context of the bold headline .. they are responsible for opinion and belief .. for how many of us get the incline or the time to read every word put in .. none perhaps .. and they that do never get an opportunity to express it .. relegated they live within .. within their own .. aloof and in opinion .. an opinion that may never be seen or heard .. but they thrive in those climes, for the matter has left them .. left their trapped insides into an open field of indestructible form .. made and combatted against .. but there to be acknowledged and retained ..

The one that writes is the only one who shall bring understanding to what the words reflect .. only he or she .. only .. their might is in the fact that what they expressed on the black and white was their own .. and they that have their own interpretations of it shall ever have interpretations of their own .. pros or in cons .. but there, all the same ..

I may express in a form, in own feel .. they that come across it shall read and form a form of their own .. every writer is never there to explain to every reader what he or she meant .. it would be a grave travesty .. the love and the beauty of the writing is that many form their own impressions of it, entirely in contrast to what the writer may have written it for .. and that really is the beauty of debate and logic .. for they are all failures in the reality of it .. 

A headache suffering individual, shall read the focus of a victory, in sharp and opposite contrast to what an over achiever may interpret after they have been given a job promotion .. and the exact vice versa may happen too .. 

The complicated mind decides and decides well .. either way .. !!

It is all up there .. within the folds of fossils over centuries of making .. and covered protected and strewn with the strands that have been given the name of ‘hair’ ..’ Hair, that protein filament that grows from follicles found in the dermis ‘, and becomes the most talked off human feature among many others .. hair .. of all .. HAIR ..


BUT I just yawn in disgust at the putrid conversation that emanates here this very minute .. conscious of the readership interest, is a curse, for many, not for all though .. there are them that do read .. and read complete .. but there are they that pretend they have read and live healthy knowledged lives ..

The end is then the moment of reconciliation .. of a dilution that shall occur in us all .. us all because I am read ..

Yes I do write and it be my humbled grace to be read .. I am not frantic to be of notice .. or of reward .. I am of writing .. and writing is all it shall be .. ever !!




I am now up for comment and present written .. are you ..??

The art of being alone is something few have truly mastered. And yet, the whole process is so serendipitous that I wish everyone could. It is not our desire to be alone that leads us to achieve it, but rather, our desire for the exact opposite. It is in searching for company, for someone or something to fill the void within us, that we come to find the beauty of solitude; that we come to understand that not every breathing moment requires noise; that we discover just how beautiful utter silence can be, too.

Yuri!!! On ice actor AU

(I will never not love this AU)

*Offset Yurio and Yuuri are total bros.
*JJ has a habit of striking his character’s pose at every interview
*Victor messes up his lines the most during serious scenes such as the parking garage one (they had to do 45 takes of this one)
*Everyone loves playing the “Make Otabek break character” game
*Emil and Mickey are the set trolls and have been known to “misplace” a lot of props
*The cast gave JJ a sweatshirt that says “King fuckboi” on it
*Yuuri has been known to sing “hello darkness my old friend” when he forgets his lines during sad scenes and everyone looses it
*Georgie is a drama queen offset and it is a sight to see
*Chris actually knew how to pole dance before the show. He taught Yuuri for the banquet scene, but he ended up with an entire class consisting of Victor, JJ, Emil, and Mickey
*Phichit is notoriously known for pranking everyone, especially Yuuri
*During an interview with Yurio, he was asked what’s it like to play his character and he responded, “It’s tiring because I play this salty character who has no chill, but at the same time it’s funny because he’s also the exact opposite of the grace he tries to achieve on ice”
*Victor and Yuuri started dating after episode 7
*Otabek and JJ pulled a huge prank on the cast and crew by swapping costumes and acting out each other’s characters
*Leo and Phichit have beat boxing battles in hair and makeup
*Guang-Hong has to stop himself from laughing every time someone yells Victory because of Yuuri and Victor’s ship name
*Everyone in cast and crew ships Victor and Yuuri
*Minami is actually the best at memorizing his lines
*When yurio messes up his lines he usually drops to his knees and starts cackling and it takes a good five to ten minutes for him to get his shit together
*JJ, Chris, and Emil almost never fuck up their lines and everyone is just so amazed that they can keep their cool while playing such eccentric characters
*Victor and Chris are best bros offset.
*Yuuri actually got really wasted for the banquet scene so he could be in perfect character. Needless to say he had a horrible hangover the next day and the day after.
*Leo is like the animal whisperer to all the animals. If they seem stressed the crew will ask Leo to help calm them down
*The miniature poodle Vicchan was actually Maccachin’s puppy, but he grew too quickly so they decided to use him as a double for his mom during certain scenes.
*Victor and Yuuri adopted Vicchan and Maccachin after the show wrapped up
*Emil has a huge crush on Mickey and everyone knows it
*Phichit and Chris make bets on when Victor would propose to Yuuri (Phichit won because he bet Victor would wait till after the show ended)
*Yurio and Otabek do lip sync battles to the sp and fs songs that have lyrics and they end up both loosing to Georgie’s fs song because they can’t stop thinking of how hilarious the scene was
*Georgie does his own makeup

Ablaze

Prompt ~ First #1

The darkness was surrounding him, but it wasn’t as soothing and calming as it should have felt. Unnerving spots of light kept filtering through the veil of closed eyelids, mining his concentration and making his posture even more stiffened. The training room was surrounded by a viscous, dull silence, while in his mind there was a continuous, ringing white sound - thousands of ancient, indistinguishable whispers tied together - that was planting seeds of weariness. He was already exhausted.

The pain was getting more and more intense every second, but the only details that could have betrayed it were the gritted teeth, the tightly set jaw and a thin film of sweat on his forehead. It was a growing, hungry heat, running through his veins like liquid fire, expanding in his chest and threatening to melt down every organ. A supernova in the process of reaching the warning point. That was the price to immerse in the Force. But he had to be quiet and resist. If only he was quieter, the pain would stop. That’s how it was supposed to work, he knew it.

“Let go of your feelings, let go of your present emotions. Empty yourselves, and let the Force refill you.” the Master in charge of running the meditation session said.

He was trying hard, but he couldn’t focus on his interior balance at all. He couldn’t find a connection, that kind of craved peace of mind that everyone seemed able to achieve effortlessly in that Temple. He couldn’t stop hearing over and over again what that apprentice had said only half an hour ago. “Well, actually I think slavery is a normal part of life for weak-minded people. They are born for that. I mean, at least emotional slavery.” And his placid, mocking smile. The Master had flatly told the youngling to quit that rude attitude, but no one really provided a serious reprimand, and no one addressed the issue with Anakin at all. But, clearly, he wasn’t even expecting it, nor he let himself be bothered by the lack of support. He should not, indeed. If he was detached enough, he would shrug it off without being affected. It was all in the past. He should focus on the Force, now. Still, that mere sentence had the power to make his muscles contract almost at the point of hurting. Born for that. Anakin squeezed his eyes and frowned. The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he got. He was born to be a good Jedi, not a slave, and he was there to prove it, to show that he wasn’t weak-minded at all… but every second of failed meditation kept suggesting otherwise. It was a soft, eerily cold voice whispering in his ears that he knew the truth about himself, it was evident to everyone, there was no need to lie, it would have been much simpler, much less painful, if only he had accepted his place in the world. The heat was now a crackling blaze, roaring in his throat and in his heart; it was strong enough to breed tears in the corners of his eyes. He pressed his lips in a rigid line, gulping back a wail. His face crumbled down in a grimace, but he locked all the boiling pain inside. And there, in the comfortable ashes of the dragon’s nest, it rotted and imploded, overriding the controls.

~

He was shaking visibly; his legs had suddenly become squashy, his hands were vibrating like a overheated running droid, uncontrollably and frantically, and his breath was short and panting. Wide blue eyes were staring at the pattern of irregular cracks intersecting the broken mosaic floor of the training room. The heartbeat was a drum in his head, a recidivous, ruthlessly regular gunshot that was threatening to drive him crazy. He couldn’t stop looking at what he’d done. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. In the background, he registered the figure of the Master kneeling beside a padawan, knocked unconscious by the sudden Force blast that exploded from Anakin’s body.

“You’re a damn monster!”

The astonished silence was broken by a kid’s yell, with a shocked gaze printed on his face. An outraged chattering started soon after, echoing distantly in his head.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to–” but the sudden voice of the Master stopped him and made him turn in that direction.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” The Master shouted angrily, heading towards him.

Anakin boggled violently, buried the head in his shoulders fraught with tension and an undefined fear, then let out a hectic gasp. He turned around to face the older Jedi, but kept his chin down, unable to meet his eyes.

The Jedi looked startled to the point of worry. His face was suspended between judgement, reprisal and disquiet.

“How did you manage to do this?” he added immediately, but with lower, colder tone, still somehow frantic and urgent.

Anakin was feeling everyone’s gazes leaning on him, crushing him to the ground. His cheeks were bursting with a corrosive mixture of fear, anxiety, and anger. Anger to himself and how worthless he was, anger to the padawan who said that phrase, anger to the Master who didn’t even want to listen to his reasons—he was already sure of this.

Despite this, he managed to find only an obedient, submissive tone to answer.

“I have no idea, Master, I don’t… I don’t know,” he bit his lower lip, with a powerless, scared look on his face.

“Come with me immediately. I won’t let you hurt someone else during my lesson,” the Master hissed, roughly grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the door, under the sight of every other padawan in the room.

“I’m sorry. I don’t– don’t know what happened, it wasn’t on purpose,” Anakin mumbled again, feeling the guilt and the overwhelming shame covering him like a blanket.

“But you did it anyway, you and your ridiculously bubbling emotions,” the Master snapped back, with a sharp tone and a even sharper glance.

His wet, watery eyes darted in every direction, like those of a kicked prey, even if at the moment he was nothing but a dangerous weird creature to the other kids. They were all judging him, too. A crippling nervousness clutched at his lungs, stealing air and igniting the brusque jerk with which he tried to escape the Master’s grip.

“It’s not my fault!” he cried, “I couldn’t… it was too much, I-I… I can’t meditate without feeling like the sun is burning inside of me and I just– lost control, I am sorry!”

The words escaped rapidly from his mouth, like a river’s flow, but as soon as he had spoken them, he was invested by regret and terror.

“No…” he stammered, upset, “No, I mean. I can meditate. It’s just…”

“Oh, can you? I see,” the Master shaked his head. “Congratulations, Skywalker. You’re the first Jedi ever who literally achieved the exact opposite of meditation’s goal,” he spatted, dragging every syllable with a dense, scolding sarcasm, almost spiteful, “Chaos and destruction.”

Those two words snatched Anakin’s turmoil away, but in exchange they left him void, blank, dull. He turned off like a discharged machine, and his eyes dimmed. He didn’t react in any way, and let the Master’s accuse drown him. He didn’t complain even when the Jedi grabbed him again.

“Now move, you’ll explain yourself to Obi-Wan. As far as I’m concerned, I will make sure that you will not set foot again in my meditation class.”

The young Skywalker followed silently and didn’t defy him; he shivered and did his best not to flinch, while his heart died an inch more, inside.

————

Okay, I’m already late and it’s only the first prompt, but ok. This is the first fic for the Star Wars Fictober challenge. It’s half a tribute to @wingletblackbird and @klorophile and @thewillowbends discussion about Anakin’s Jedi training, half a sort of reference to the point where the other padawans were all about “he’s a slave to his emotions”. But anyway. I wanted to give it a try. Hope you like it.

Insecurities

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Slight Angst/Fluff 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: In which you’re absolutely insecure but Jimin doesn’t agree on how you view yourself. IDKKK 

Note: I’m just testing stuff out hehe. This is all just an experiment to see if I could become confident again in what I write lol.

-

It was one of those days that Jimin comes over and the two of you would watch all the latest movies and episodes of dramas that the both of you haven’t watched yet. It was hard for Jimin to come by these days since he’s an aspiring idol and he became a trainee a few months back. But he still managed to hang out with you  from time to time. 

The two of you were watching a romance type of drama that made you want to scream how obvious it was that the female lead would end up with the guy that was always with her from the start. Even if she was pining over some other guy in the current episode.

It was undeniably warm in your room even if it was pouring outside. You were lying comfortably on Jimin’s chest as he had his arms wrapped around you with his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. The laptop was placed in front of the both of you with your pillows near the side of it due to the mini pillow fight you and Jimin had over to see who get’s to choose first. Obviously, he won seeing as the two of you weren’t watching Suspicious Partner as of now.

By the end of the episode, it got you thinking a whole bunch of negative thoughts. Especially since you just watched a typical romance drama. It’s been a little over 8 months since you last had been in a relationship. And that relationship didn’t last that long either. 

“Hey, Jimin?”

 “Hm?”

“I’m not worth anyone’s time, aren’t I?”

He looked over to you with shock written all over his face on what you said. “What? I mean it’s obvious that no one wants me. I barely have a love life.” 

“Don’t say that, (Y/N)-”

“To be honest, I don’t think I would even date myself. Look at me, I’m ugly, not slim enough and I’m definitely not smart. I don’t have charisma nor do I have an appeal to guys. I’m socially awkward, have less than mediocre skills in cooking and I don’t have any talents. I’m just a plain gray not-so-unique (Y/N). Plus I laugh like a windshield wiper and I’m always never the ideal type of the guy I like.”

By the end of what you said, the room was silent and you had unwrapped yourself from his arms and brought your knees to your chest while looking at your bedroom floor with glassy eyes.

“(Y/N), you’re not any of those. You’re outstandingly beautiful, you got a perfect body even if it isn’t the ideal body type and god, if I could tell you how many damn times you’ve beaten me in a debate because of all that knowledge you have I would. If you only knew how other guys look at you and wish they get to call you theirs. You are the kindest person I have met. And who wouldn’t want a beautiful, smart, kind and caring person to be theirs?”

He certainly knew he would.

You scoffed and looked up at him with a few tears rolling down your face as you look at him with disbelief. “Would you date me?” You said those words so sarcastically since you knew he would never look at you in that way.

“Yes.” At least you thought you knew. And he didn’t have a hint of hesitation in his voice. Your eyes grew wide as you slowly took in his answer. And realization hit you, it was just to make you feel better. He wouldn’t actually want to. You would know, you fell in love with him long ago. But he never saw you in that light. So you tried to move on. And it sort of worked. Sort of.

“Thanks Jimin. But I know that you will never see me that way. If this just to make me feel better, it’s not working. “ By now, you were on the verge of breaking down. Since the feelings you thought were gone yet again resurfaced. And it’s not helping in any way.

 He scooted over to where you sat down with your hands to your face trying to stop the tears. He took your hands in his. You slowly looked up to him. And you were beyond confused as to why he was crying too. You were about to ask what was wrong and why he was crying but he spoke first.

“Please, (Y/N), stop doing this to yourself. You were always like this ever since we met back in high school. I thought in time, you would become more confident and realize that you’re already perfect. You say you’re the walking epitome of imperfections. But do you know what I see? I see absolute perfection made into 1 person. And I can’t believe I got lucky enough to even be this close to you.”

“S-Stop, Jimin. Just please. I understand that you’re my best friend and that you probably feel obligated to make me feel better. but it isn’t working-”

“Repeat what you said but instead direct it at me.”

He said those words with utmost seriousness in his eyes that you know he wasn’t joking when he said that.

“J-Jimin. I can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d feel terrible! You aren’t any of those. You’re the exact opposite.”

“Then don’t say that to yourself. That’s how I feel whenever you say those type of things. You don’t know how many times I’d come back to the dorms already missing you and feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach over the previous activities we do. You don’t know how many times I wake up feeling giddy on the thought of just seeing you and seeing you laugh and smile because of me. You don’t know how many times I think of you praising me and feeling proud of all the accomplishments I achieved. And that thought drives me to be more determined to work harder.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he pulled you to his chest. making your head rest against his chest and his head buried in the crook of your neck. He wasn’t finished yet.

“And all these small intimate moments we have like cuddling, I sometimes think that we’re actually in a relationship and this is how it feels to call you mine. And oh god, don’t get me started on how I had to hold myself back from kissing the life out of you after getting a taste of your oh-so-addicting lips after you got dared to kiss me. And hell, if you only knew how much my pride and ego boosted when I knew that was your first kiss. Fuck, and those times where I see you with other guys and I see how they look at you. I try my hardest to try and stop myself from showing them who you belong to even if there isn’t even an us. Yet, hopefully.”

He felt him smile a little before continuing on.

“And it hurts me to see you like this. And I try everyday to remind you you’re worth so much more than what you think you’re worth.”

By the time he finished what he wanted to say, the both of you were sobbing relentlessly into each other. Part of you was really touched on what he said, another part of you was going blank. It’s still trying to process and comprehend what the hell this meant. 

A while later, the both of you calmed down.And there was just a resonating silence in the room. The atmosphere was so awkward you wanted the Earth to swallow you up. Jimin had his arms already unwrapped around you and you could feel his intense gaze on you.

“(Y/N), please say something. I know you’re probably confused right now, but your silence is killing me.” He chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood. But deep down, your silence did nothing but help him think that this was going to end in the worst case scenario he thought of.

“Did you mean all of that?”

“Yes! God (Y/N), you really want me to say it out loud, don’t you? I love you. And how many times do I have to tell you, you’re not any of those and you’re perfect.”

You smiled. You went nearer to him and hugged him. Jimin visibly relaxed under your touch. You went back to your neglected laptop and typed in your password. 

“Wait, what does that make us? Are we like- in a relatio-”

“Shhh. Let’s just figure all that later. For now, it’s time to watch Suspicious Partner.”

And he got quiet after that. But he had possibly the most heartwarming smile on and leaned back on your bed’s headboard. You sat in between his legs and got comfortable on his chest. You pressed the play button and waited for it to load.

“Hey (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that I thought about it, you do sound like a windshield wiper when you laugh.”

“YAH.“

Your tone may sound a bit angry but you can’t help but laugh silently at that. You knew he was only teasing. Hopefully.

“Oh, and Chim?”

“Hm?” You hadn’t called him Chim in a while so he got a bit surprised on hearing you call him that again.

And soon enough, he felt a pair of lips on his cheek. But it was far too soon when you pulled away and cheekily smiled at him. His face was basically a tomato now. The spot where you gave him a small peck still tingled and he swears he could still feel the ghost of your lips on it. 

“I love you too.” 

For the rest of the episode and even in the other shows you two watched, he couldn’t focus entirely on it. His eyes kept glancing back at you if you would do it again but you were far too immersed in whatever was happening to do anything. Once he realized that, he just gave up and basked the feeling of having you close to him and finally being able to call you his, your I love you too ringing in his head over and over again. He liked this feeling. He could get used to feeling this. 

Fairytales: Mikey and Rapunzel

Pairing: Michael Clifford and (Y/N) – although technically Rapunzel

Rating: smut

Word Count: 3.2k +

Okay guys, so it’s been ages since I’ve uploaded anything! Sorry about that.

Hopefully this isn’t too disappointing. Let me know what you think!


I stood over a large pot of stew, one hand stirring the steaming hot liquid and the other holding an aged recipe book. My left leg was awkwardly held a few inches in the air, my long blond hair resting on the crevice between my foot and shin. I tapped my foot against the side of the cupboards, the hair shifting slightly, as I counted the number of counterclockwise stirs the recipe called for.

An amazing smell filled my entire tower, not that there was much to fill, but regardless it smelt heavenly. I hadn’t tasted this dish since I was a little girl, but even so the smell rushed back memories of my childhood. It took me back to a time when I didn’t even know there was a world beyond this prison.

Once I became old enough to take care of myself, my mother had been less present in my life. She’d no longer sleep in the tower or be beside me when I woke, but she visited me for several hours during supper time. During this time was when I really became curious. I was allowed to look out our one window as much as I pleased and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel my toes on the grass or run as far as my heart desired without having to run in circles or accidently hit a wall.

I let out a disgruntled breath and the strands of hair that were slowly starting to dip across my face blew upwards. 

I had been working on the stew since dawn. The recipe instructed it to be simmered for 12 hours and if I wanted to convince my mother that I was responsible enough to leave the tower then it had to be perfect.

“Four teaspoons of powdered cayenne pepper,” I squinted at the faded words, trying make out my grandmother’s sloppy handwriting. I brushed my fingers across the page, unknowingly letting the large metal spoon slip into the bubbling pot, and pulled the book close to my face. “Right.”

I nodded to myself, pleased with how well everything had gone so far. I reached over to continue stirring but my hand grasped nothing but air. I knitted my eyebrows and pulled my gaze from the dusty book to my stew.

“Oh no,” I gasped as my focus turned to my drowning spoon. The recipe book fell from my hand and clamored loudly against the wooden floor as I reached up on my toes to peer inside the pot. A tiny sliver of silver peeked out from the bubbling stew and I held my breath as I slowly slid my hand inside.

My fingers burned as they dipped into the liquid. I hurriedly flipped it from the pot and it clanked noisily beside the recipe book. I clutched my burning hand and hopped awkwardly around the room, not even caring if I stepped on my long hair, until the pain slolwy subsided.

I let out a measured breath, ran a rough hand through my thick hair and let my eyes settle to the mess on the ground. I dropped to my knees and began to wipe up the stew I had slopped around. I grumbled angrily to myself as I moved slowly across the floor, being careful not to leave any traces of spilt food as that would be the exact opposite of what I wanted to achieve. 

My mother expected everything to be spotless.

I held the recipe book by the upper corner, letting it dangle from my finger tips. It was slathered in the red sauce, further blurring the ingredient list. “Shoot, shoot, shoot,” I mumbled as I tried to read the words.

I grabbed the tablespoon from the counter and added 4 heaping scoops of cayenne because I knew my mother prefered her stew to be a bit spicy. I didn’t bother washing the spoon as I began stirring once more. 

Once the sun began to set that’s when I heard my mother’s sing song voice wander up through the open window of my tower. The stew was done, the freshly made bread was nearly finished, and the entire room was scrubbed down from ceiling to floor.

I vaguely heard the oven timer ring and I made a mental note to get it immediatly after I helped my mother into the tower.

“(Y/N), let down your hair, darling,” I hurried over to the window, my mother looked like an ant standing at the bottom as I swung my hair over the ledge.
“Hello, mother,” I beamed cheerfully once she finally climbed through the window. “I hope you’ve had a lovely day.”


“It’s been rather pleasant,” she smiled softly, her hands lightly cupping the sides of my face. She leaned down to plant a kiss on my forehead, her lips still upturned into a gentle smile. “Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

Suddenly she turned, her gaze settling on the kitchen stove. “Is that my mother’s famous beef stew recipe?”

“Yes, I thought it would be a nice birthday dinner,” suck up dinner.

“Oh, but it’s your birthday you didn’t have to do—is something burning?” Her pleasant expression was turned into one of disgust as she scrunched her face in disgust.

The bread. “Oh no, oh no,” my brain was in a frazzle as I sprinted over to the oven, nearly tripping over my hair on the way there. “Please don’t be burnt, please don’t be burnt.”

I flung open the oven door, a small amount of smoke emerging from the inside as my bare hands immeditaly clutched the rack to pull the loaf of bread out. 

“Damn it,” I cursed as a shooting pain spread from the tips of my fingers all of the way to the ends of my toes. I anxiously rubbed my hands together, trying to dull the pain.

I grabbed a few pot holders from the counter and waved the smoke away from my face before pulling the loaf pan from the oven. I shoved the door shut with my leg and set the pan down loudly next to the stew. 

I started picking at the darkened top of my bread, wondering how it could have burned so quickly. “The timer just went off when you arrived. How’d it burn so quickly?” I whined as I continued to brush off the burnt pieces.

“How long did you put it in for?” My mother leaned over my shoulder and scrunched up her nose at the pungent smell of burning yeast. 

“2 hours, just like it said.”

“No, no,” she let out a small giggle before pushing me aside and flipping the pan upside down to remove the bread. She shook it a few times, but the bread refused to free itself from the pan. “The total prep time is 2 hours, it’s only supposed to bake for 45 minutes." 

She slid a knife along the edges, before the bread finally came out in a crumbled mess on the serving platter. "Oh gosh,” I buried my face in my hands and began to shake my head. “I tried to make everything perfect and—”

“Don’t worry,” My mom assured me as she picked up a piece of semi-blackened bread. “I’m sure it’ll taste just fine in the stew.” She dunked the bread into the stew and stirred it a bit, making sure that the piece was saturated with as much liquid as possible.

I peaked at her between my fingers, waiting for the moment of truth. I had worked so hard on the stew all day and if that was a disaster I didn’t know what I would do.

Her eyes opened wide with shock as she popped the stew soaked bread into her mouth. She immediately spit it out, her mouth staying opening and her breathing turned into panting. “Water,” she managed to say just as I hurried over to the sink to fill a glass up with tap.

“Here, here.” She eagerly took the drink from my hands and preceded to chug the entire glass. “What’s wrong? Is the bread really that bad? We don’t have to eat it.”

“Have you tasted the soup?” She asked in between deep breaths. She was slumped over, looking close to hyperventilation and I could feel myself getting panicked.

I shook my head vehemently, my eyes never once leaving my mom. “I was going to wait until we could sit down and eat it together.”

“How much pepper did you put in it?” The color drained from my face as I realized it wasn’t just the bread that was ruined, but the entire meal.

“I—” I tried thinking back, but couldn’t recall how much I had put in. I had been up since nearlly 5 this morning and I was so tired that everything seemed like one big blur. “I can’t remember.”

I turned away from my mother, I felt too shameful to even stand in front of her. At that point, I was convinced that I was never going to get out of the tower, that I was going to have to spend the rest of my life never knowing what the outside world was like.

I hurried to the edge of the room where a set of open steps spiraled up the edge of the stone wall. I just wanted to get into bed and never leave it. My room was situated on a loft type structure that consisted of no privacy. A stone slab jutted out from the wall, but no walls incased my tiny space. The only thing that I had up there was my bed and a dresser. 

“Where are you going?” My mom watched me as I stomped up the stairs, a big pile of my hair held in my hands so that I could move more quickly.
I slumped down onto my bed, letting my hair spread out around me as I covered myself fully with the blankets and placed a pillow over my head. I just wanted to block this tower out, but no matter what I did it still felt like it was closing in around me.

“What’s wrong?” I felt my mother’s hand rub gentle circles into my back as she lefted my head into her lap. “I love that you tried. It means a lot to me, even though it is your birthday after all. I brought your favorite blueberry muffins from that little bakery in town.”

I perked my head up to see my mom lift a basket up from the side of the bed. “I thought maybe you would like one for your birthday.”

My mouth watered just at the thought of the deliciously baked sweet bread. When she pulled one from the basket the raw sugar on the top shined slightly and the overwhelming smell of blueberries washed over me.

I sat up in bed, shoving as much of my hair as I could behind me and grabbed the muffin that was perched in her hand. “Thank you, thank you,” I barely got out before taking a huge bite. 

I sighed in contentment. Everything about it was perfect.

“I’m going to clean up the mess tonight,” she handed me her unfinished muffin and slowly stood up. I was more than surprised that she was willing to clean up my mess. Normally she wouldn’t even say anything, it was just expected of me to clean everything. 

“Mom,” I stopped her before I could even think of talking myself out of what I was about to do. “Since I’m 18 now, I was thinking that maybe we could go visit that little bakery together. I’ve always wanted to—”

“Absolutely not,” her face went from kind to stoic in .2 seconds. “You know you aren’t allowed to leave this tower.”

“But momma, I’m 18 now.” I gathered my hair into my arms and hurried to follow her down the stairs. “We don’t even have to stay long, just long enough for me to eat and then we can come right back home.”

“Stop with this talk right now. I have told you before and I am getting sick of saying it.” She grabbed her coat from the rack and slipped it on over her shoulders. With a rubberband she tied her unruly dark brown curls into a bun and pulled her hat clear over her ears.

“Mom, please don’t leave. I’m sorry I just want—”

“Want, want, want,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re such an ungrateful child, always wanting and never giving. Maybe you should think about me for once.”

“I’m always thinking about you momma. I don’t want to leave for forever, I just want to visit the town, even if it is only one time.” I pleaded with her as she continued to dress. “I will never ask again if you let me out just this once.”

“You are never leaving (Y/N).” She stood at the window and I dragged my feet as I went to stand beside her. “The world out there is not nice, especially to pretty young girls like yourself. It’ll corrupt you and you’ll never be the same.”

“I won’t. I promise that everything will go back to normal.” I felt more defeated than I sounded. I knew that I had already lost the battle.

I don’t know why I was expecting her mind to change just because it was my birthday.

“Let down your hair.” Was all she said, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.

I threw my hair out the window and slumped down against the wall as she descended the tower.

I looked around at my messy house. It was the only place I had ever known, will ever know. It couldn’t be more than 500 square feet. The kitchen was situated on the left and beside that was the table that I usually ate at. Next came the stairs that lead to my loft bedroom. Beside that was a sitting place with several bookcases filled with my approved reading.

After my mom was gone, I cleaned the tower until it shined. There was nothing better to do and there never would be.


~


A loud crash sent me flying up in my bed. My eyes squinted to try and focus in the near pitch black room, but the only light was shining in through the window by the bright moon. I pulled my hair in close around my body, as if it was going to protect me.

A young man was sprawled out in front of the window, his brightly colored purple hair shown visibally in the moon light. My heart was beating through my chest and not only because someone had broken into my tower.

It was a boy.

I had read about them and when I was younger my mom told me a little bit about my dad, but aside from that I didn’t know much.

I could hear him groaning as he slowly peeled himself away from the floor. I hooked my hair around the end of my bed frame and slowly lowered myself over the ledge and onto the ground.

“Fuck,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his head roughly.

I carefully moved along the shadows, being careful to make sure my hair shifted as little as possible. Once I reached the kitchen I pulled my frying pan off the counter and gripped it tightly into my hands. I didn’t know if I had it in me to actually hit the boy, but I tried to convince myself that I could.

He turned his back to me and began walking towards my small sofa. I quickly flipped the switch and suddenly the entire tower was illuminated, but the scene flickered under the kerosene lighting.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I screamed much louder than necessary as I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the frying pan back into a hitting position.

The boy swiveled around to look at me, and the sight before me made me drop the pan to the floor. I didn’t flinch as it banged loudly against the floor but my eyes remained locked onto a pair of dark green eyes.

I had no idea what to expect, but it wasn’t the boy that was standing in front of me.

“Oh,” He looked just as startled as me and I couldn’t help but hope it was in the same way that I was. “I didn’t know that this was someone’s house. I didn’t mean any harm, I’ll just—” he turned to start leaving but suddenly I felt more panicked.

I didn’t want him to leave unless he was going to take me with him. I didn’t know him, but if he could lower me to the ground then I wanted his help. For a split second my mind racked through all of the ways he could murder me, but I was too blinded by the thought of leaving to give it much thought.

“Wait,” I ran towards the tall boy and grabbed hold of his wrist. “Are you okay? You looked like you were in a bit of a rush.”

“I’m fine.”

My eyes pleaded with him to stay. Body langage was the only thing that got me privalages, no matter how small, with my mom. I could talk in circles all day and get no where, but the moment I turned my pleading eyes to her she’d at least agree to buy me baked goods from town.

“Are you—” his eyes widened as his gaze followed my hair down my back and around the room. “Is that all your hair?”

“What?” I frowned as I bunched a bit of my hair in my arms. “Of course it’s all mine.”

“How did you—” he started, but didn’t finish before continuing, “Have you ever—” Again his thought changed direction, “What do—holy fuck.”

“Is something wrong?” I suddenly felt extremely self conscious in a way that I never had before. Up in the tower I never had to worry about what anyone else thought of me and the strange emotion hit hard and all in a rush.

And I didn’t like it.

“It’s just—long. Really, really, long.” His eyes were still tracing the length of my hair and I pulled more of it close to me to try and hide myself. He winced suddenly and pushed his bangs from his face, leaving a large streak of blood smeared across his forehead.

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped, allowing my hair to fall to my feet as my hands flew up to my mouth.

“What?” he frowned and went to touch his hair again, but I stopped him with a loud string of ‘nonononono’.

“Go wash your hands,” I directed him by pointing him towards the sink. “When you’re done go lay down on the sofa.”

He followed half of my instructions, agreeing to wash the blood from his hands but refusing to let me take care of his wound. “I’ll be fine. I can get it fixed when I get home.”

“Well until then I’m not going to let you bleed all over my tower. So, hurry up and do as I say.”

“You’re being a bit bossy for a little girl, don’t you think?” he asked with cocked eyebrows. He shook the excess water from his hands, and I was pleasantly surprised to see him saunter over to the sofa.

I was on my tip toes pulling cleaning astringent and a bandage from the counter when I heard the boy settle onto the couch. I turned around to see him awkwardly hanging off the edge. He was much taller than me and didn’t fit how I anticipated.

“Just go lay down on my bed. You’re a lot taller than I thought.”

He hesitated for a moment, but didn’t argue any further as he followed me up the steps. Once I reached my bed I made sure that I pushed all of my hair off the side of the loft. I didn’t understand why my hair freaked him out.

“I’m (Y/N),” I said as I sat down beside him. I pushed the hair from his face and opened the bottle of peroxide.

“Michael.” He flinched slightly as i pressed the cotton pad soaked with clear liquid onto his wound and wiped the dirt from his face.

“So Michael, are you going to tell me what you were running from?” I continued to work on the cut as his face puckered into a sour expression.

“What makes you think I was on the run?”

“I don’t think you would have scaled my tower if you weren’t running from something.” Which was true. I had only ever seen a few people walk passed my window and none of them ever took notice of me or seemed to take interest in the tower.

He let out a loud sigh, “Not something but someone.”

“Are you in trouble?” I slowly felt panic begin to spread over my entire body. 

“No one is chasing you here, are they? My mother would be furious if she found out that you were here. If there were more people—Who knows what she’d do.”

I numbly began to apply a small amount of ointment onto the cut before spreading a bandage over the top.

“What do you mean, 'who knows what she’ll do’?” He sat up a bit too quickly, his head almost knocking mine. For a moment I was frozen, his breath hot against my face, putting me in a trance that I wasn’t sure I wanted to get out of.

“I just—” I swallowed, trying to regain my thoughts. “She’s very protective of me and I would be in a lot of trouble.”

“I can’t come back and see you?”

My heart stopped, my mind was racing. He wanted to see me again? I couldn’t wrap my head around the thought.

“So, I can properly repay you for taking care of me,” He clarifyed and I immediately felt my face flush a deeper red than it already was.

“Oh, right.” I nodded quickly, pulling my face away from his and sitting back on the bed. My fingers laid awkwardly in my lap as I picked at my fingernails. I was dumb to think that a boy could ever like me, especially one as beautiful as him.

“Are you okay?” He frowned, his eyebrows kntting together.

I felt my face heat up again and I awkwardly turned away from his gaze, hoping he wouldn’t noticed how ashamed of myself I was.

“For a moment I thought you wanted to come back to, you know, visit me or something,” I mumbled as my gaze settled on my lap. I fiddled with my fingers, my hands keeping my eyes preoccupied while my long hair covered my blush. 

“But, it was a silly thought. I don’t even know why—”

The tips of Michael’s fingers tilted my chin up and before I even had a chance to process what was happening, his lips were pressed to mine.

A warm heat spread over my body, but my toes and fingers felt freezing, like the blood had left those places entirely. I wasn’t sure what to do, the only thing I knew about kissing was that it woke up Snow White.

What good would that do me? My life wasn’t a fairytale.

His hand trailed up my side and rested on the back of my neck, my hair nearly stood on end at his touch. I stumbled forward as he pushed me towards him. I didn’t have anywhere to go besides him, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

I was afraid that I was shaking as his teeth grazed against my bottom lip. I shuttered as he bit me, he must have been able to sense my uneasiness as he slowly pulled away. His forehead was against mine and his eyes were only slightly opened.

“Is this okay?”

I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I didn’t want him to stop.I shook my head yes, not trusting myself enough to speak.

My consent visibly sent a spark through him as he gently pushed me down against the bed. He crawled on top of me, his hands on either side of me. His messy hair was hanging low into his face and his breath was coming faster.

My heart was racing faster than my mind as he slowly reached leaned in towards me. I couldn’t focus on anything but his lips, they were darkly pigmented and parted slightly.

The lanterns that lit up the tower flickered dangerously for a moment before going out, leaving us both in the dark. I felt his body go rigid above mine, nervous. 

“That’s just happens when the lamps run out of—” before I could finish, the weight of Michael’s body was suffocating me, not because he was heavy, but because I suddenly couldn’t find my breath. He was all around me, every part of me was touching him.

He kissed me again, but this time more eager than before. His lips moved skilfully against mine as I awkwardly tried to find time to breathe. His hands found my thighs, his fingernails dug into the soft flesh. They raked up my legs, pushing the length of my dress up  until he rested his hands on my hips. I could feel the pressure, heavy as lead against my bone, but the harder he pushed the better it felt.

The moon was shining in the window, illuminating what part of his beautifully pale face wasn’t covered by his hair. In the light I could see his lips tremor as he slowly laid kisses on the corner of my mouth, then down to my chin and finally on my neck.

The sensation I felt when he sucked gently on my neck was magnified by 100 compared to when he kissed my lips. It’s like all the breath had left my lungs and the only thing I could do was lay there with my mouth hung open.

Suddenly I felt his teeth, both my hands gripped his upper arms as a jolt of electricity ran through my body. A tiny moan developed in my throat, something he never would have felt if he wasn’t so close.

I couldn’t describe what I was feeling with words, I had never felt something so strong or commanding. I only knew that I wanted more. I didn’t know how to get closer to him, how I could get us farther than we already were until I arched my back slightly, my chest leaning into Michael’s as I untied the back of my dress.

At first, he didn’t realise what I was doing, but as I began to shimmy the dress off he pulled away from me and sat back on his hands. “What are you doing?”
He finally looked as nervous as I felt.

I slowly crawled over to him, my hands tugged at the hem of his shirt slightly before pulling it off entirely. I couldn’t find the courage to look up into his eyes, so I kept my stare on his newly exposed chest—not that, that was a hard thing to do. I threw his shirt over my shoulder, not caring at all where it landed.

My hands were shaking as I yanked at the button on his pants. His hands hovered over mine, before slowly, almost cautiously, unbuttoning them for me. I let out a ragged breath, trying to control every urge in me that wanted to scream.

“(Y/N), are you sure you want to do this?” he asked once his jeans were off.
In that moment, I was very sure. I couldn’t have been more sure about anything.

“I just want to feel you against me.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling gently as I saw a surprised expression cross his face. 

I pulled him all the way down on top of me, even though we had only spent a few short minutes detached I had missed the heat of his body on mine—It was intoxicating.

Both of his hands were in my hair, tugging slightly before one of them slid down my neck, then over my breast and down my stomach. I shivered under his touch, it felt so new but so familiar at the same time.

I felt his fingers play at the band on my underwear and for a moment I thought he was just going to move on down to my thigh but instead I felt him dip his hand further inside. I had completely frozen beneath him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

I was excited and afraid all at the same time for what was going to come next. His fingers ran up and down my slit easily, my body was craving him more than I realized. His thumb rubbed circles into the top, sending a dark shiver down my spine. I had never felt anything like it in my life, I didn’t even know anything on my body could make me feel that way.

Michael groans into my ear as if finger slides into my body. My body reflexively arches away from him, but he moves along with me. My body soaks his hand, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he works faster.

His touch becomes addictive, I want more. My skin feels like it’s on fire, but I need more of his heat. I use my foot to try and pull his boxers off, he falters for a moment before helping me take them off.

“What’s happening?” Michael whispers, his voice heavy and thick.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. You tell me.” I pull on his hair so his face is close to mine.

“You’ve never—,” he started before burying his face in my neck. The coarse hairs on his chin scratched against my skin and I wiggled beneath him. I felt his dick rub against me as I moved, and Michael’s body twitched in response.

I continued to grind into him, enjoying the response I was getting.

“Please,” I breathed heavily into his ear. I didn’t want to beg, but I was beginning to throb because I was so turned on.

Michael let out a deep groan before placing his hands on either side of my and pushing himself up slightly. I felt my bare stomach get wet as he rubbed his dick down me. I felt him position himself at my entrance. I grabbed fistfuls of the duvet I was laying on, trying to prepare myself

I held my breath as he pushed inside of me. 

Michael’s mouth was immediately on mine, his voice catching in my own throat. His lips trembled as he moved against against me.

Each thrust was deep but slow. My body was tight, but it felt good as he stretched me out. I dragged my nails along his pale back, urging him to go faster.

Michael gripped my hair and shoved himself deeper inside of me. The force caused my mouth to open wide, but no sound came out as he continued fucking me. I don’t know when he moved his hand away from my hair, but I suddenly felt his thumb rubbing clumsy circles into me.

I tilted my hips upwards as a low scream ripped through my body. For a second everything seemed to stop. I couldn’t see Michael, I couldn’t hear anything, all I could do was feel. My heart beat dangerously hard against my chest and a rush of electricity shot through my nerves.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumbled as Michael continued to stimulate my sensitive body.

Without warning he pulled out of me, but I was too tired to pay attention to what he was doing.

Every part of me was humming, like my insides were just injected with adrenaline. My ears were ringing and the tips of my toes were buzzing. I had never felt so alive, yet so worn out.

The sheets rustled as Michael wrapped his arm around me. I instinctively curled into his side and closed my eyes. Sleep felt like only seconds away, my thoughts slowly fading.

“I—” he started, but I placed my hand over his mouth to make him stop.

“Shh,” I yawned. “I’m sleepy.”
~
The sun peeked through the window, waking me from an unusually deep sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut and stretched my arms up high as I sat up. I yawned heavily as I continued to stretch.

Geez, I haven’t slept that well in ages.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pushed the heavy duvet off my legs.

“Stop it,” I heard a voice grumble and my eyes shot open wide.

“Oh my God, Oh my God,” I quickly scurried to my feet and pulled a shirt over my head and a pair of cotton shorts on. “No, no, no.”

I bit the back of my hand and let out a small scream.

“Michael,” I whispered, even though no one was around to hear us. “Michael,” I said again, this time a little louder.

Still he didn’t respond.

I grabbed the pillow that I had been sleeping on and threw it at his head.

“What is it now?” he groaned as my eyes flickered over to the clock. 

“You have to leave!” I didn’t mean to yell, but I was starting to feel frantic. “My mom will be here any second.”

“What?” Michael shot straight up.

“Put your pants on,” I covered my eyes as I threw him his boxers and jeans. “Oh my God,” I mumbled again as I used my hair to reach the main floor, just like I had the night before. “Please, hurry.”

“Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen last night. I didn’t come up here looking for—” He goes silent when he stands in front of me. “It’s just the king’s guards are a bit hard to outrun and I was panicked when I saw your tower. It was the only way I could escape them.”

“The king’s guards? What are you? Some kind of criminal? Did I just have sex with a criminal?” My voice goes shrill as I push him towards the window. “You need to leave. Now.”

“No, no. I’m not a criminal,” he begins to explain, but I ignored him as I threw my hair over the ledge. “The king is my father and I was meant to be married yesterday,  but I never showed up.”

“You have a fiancé?” I groaned. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“No, well yes, but if I don’t want to marry her. Just please, let me help you. I can get you out of here.” He pleaded with me.

I nervously chewed on my lip and let out a shaky breath. He was offering me everything I had ever wanted and as he stared at me with his deep green eyes I felt my uneasiness subside. 

I don’t know why, but I trusted him.

“You would do that for me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I’ll be back for you. I promise.”

And just like that he was gone.

~Lore

A/N 

Wow, yeah. It’s been ages.

Don’t judge me too harshly on this haha I literally haven’t wrote anything like this in MONTHS. So it’ll take me a bit to get back in the swing of things!

I hope you liked it and didn’t think the ending was TOO cheesy. ;)

It's not actually about Jaune's screentime...

Writing that post about Yang made me understand better what bugs me so much about Jaune Arc. It’s not just how much focus there is on him. There’ve been shows where side characters got their own story arc, and some of them are among my favourites.

It really boils down to the character more than anything else. His disproportionate screen time exacerbates the issue, but isn’t my core beef with the character.

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anonymous asked:

just an idea to share here. ever thought of how human genetics happen. one strand of chromosomes and another from opposite parent makes at least starts said kid? why not take half coding and another half from opposite parent and see what you could do from there!

*oh, no, i definitely didn’t consider the most obvious biological parallel to what i am hoping to achieve here in the digital world in creating new sentient life. you genius. wow. why didn’t i think of that? there’s no way i haven’t already sunk thousands of hours into that exact line of research. nope.

* … (he seems stressed)

((Jolie’s Input: lol sorry he’s being a bit of a jerk, even more so than usual. It’s a touchy subject for him. Their ability to procreate to continue their lineage and truly flourish as, essentially, a unique species is very important to Q, and the fact that he hasn’t cracked it yet weighs on him.))

Dear Stranger

Pairing: DeanxReader

Word Count: 1886

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean Winchester is a college student.One night he ends up meeting you and the same night he finds out something else too.

A/N: This will be a multi part story. Since I’m new to all this so feedback is appreciated. Thank you. :)

Dean let out a sigh dropping the pen on the open book in front of him and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He stretched his body in an effort to release the stiffness caused by sitting in the same spot for hours. At the same time a yawn escaped his mouth and eyes became watery. He rubbed them again and blinked a few times. Looking around he realized that the library was most probably completely empty and he might be the only one still here. It was a little after half past eight. He closed all the books and started stacking them back in their shelves. As he was about to keep the last book back in the shelf he suddenly pulled back.

“Oh no. Need this one.” He said to himself.

He returned to the table where he was sitting and collected his things to go. On his way to the exit he gave a smile to the librarian who seemed to be as exhausted as him. As soon as Dean stepped outside the cold night wind hit his face making him shudder for a brief moment. He took in a long breath of fresh air and headed towards his dorm.

Unlike the library the campus wasn’t deserted. There were some night crawlers hanging around, some in groups while some were alone. But they all shared the same look on their face. One which Dean thought could be seen on his face too. Exhaustion. Finals will be starting in a week and everyone was stressed. They were out here to relieve some of that burden. I should too. And on that thought Dean retraced his steps to a quiet corner where no one could be seen. There was a large tree. He placed all his stuff on the ground and circled the tree, looking for a spot to climb it and he found one. Once he was on a branch strong enough to not break under his weight he made himself comfortable. He took out his phone and put on a play list to suit the mood and then just sat quietly, staring at the moon.

A few minutes later he reaches to his pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes but turns out it wasn’t in his pants, he must’ve left it in the bag. He descended the tree and rummaged through his bag and found the pack in the front pocket. As he was about to go back he saw someone sitting a few yards ahead of him. It was a girl. She was here all alone. Dean wasn’t someone to just go and start talking to people so he turned to climb again but then he realised something. It was middle of the night and there is a person sitting here all alone. Well so was he, but he had a feeling that he should talk to her. Maybe she needs that. And so he picked up his bag and walked over to her.

“Hey there!” Dean said once he was near her. Startled by him the girl stared at him with fear and shock evident on her face. The smile on his face faded once he realised what he did. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologised raising his hands as if surrendering. Shifting his bag on his shoulder he extended his hand “I’m Dean.” She looked from his face to his hand and very hesitatingly shook it.

“I’m Y/N.” She replied with a small and awkward smile.

“May I?” he asked looking at the ground beside her and then back at her.
“Yeah. Sure.”
He sat down, cross legged, and placed his bag besides him. He took out a cigarette, placed it between his lips and moved the pack towards her. “You smoke?”

“Yeah, sure.” and she accepted the offer. He kept the pack back in his jacket and took out the lighter. After both their cigarettes were lit they both sat their silently. While she stared into the sky his eyes were fixated on her, noticing all her features. She had short, brown and curly hair. She had small but plump lips. And her eyes, they were big and captivating. The ones that when look at you it seems as if they are trying to read your thoughts. You do realise that this is such cliché and typical movie stuff, don’t you? The voice in his head exclaimed and he chuckled at that.

She turned to look at him, all confused. “Are you laughing at me?” not offended but amused by his gesture.

“Oh no! No! I’m not laughing at you. Just something came to my mind. Definitely not laughing at you. I’m sorry.” He apologised with a shy smile on his face. She shook her head and turned back to the sky, taking another drag of the cigarette she closed her eyes, tilted her head upwards and let out a cloud of smoke.

“Your cigarette’s burning away.”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t taken a single drag of your cigarette. It’s wasting away.”

“Oh! Yeah.” He gave a chuckle, embarrassed, then took a drag and turned to look at the moon. “So, you come here every day?”

“Not every day but often. You? Never seen you roaming these grounds before.” She asked.

“Nah! It’s my first time here. Usually I go out of the campus to clear my mind.”

“Ohh” she said nodding her head. And then they fell into a comfortable silence. Carefully stealing glances at each other in between their drags so that the other one won’t notice. None of them spoke again till their cigarettes were over. She finished hers first and his was about end soon too. She waited for him to throw the butt and then got up. “It’s getting late. I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah me too. There’s a lot to study.” He said picking up his bag. “So… will we meet again?” he asked nervously.

“If we again end up at the same place at the same time then yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Bye Dean” she smiled at him and then turned and started walking away.

“Bye Y/N.” He sighed and made his way back to his dorm. The stress of the finals was somehow forgotten during that short interaction of theirs but it was now coming back. He didn’t realise but his pace quickened and he almost ran back all the way back to his dorm. On his way he checked if the cafe was still open and luckily it was, so he bought a cup of coffee and continued walking back to his room.

Dean was tired as hell when he reached his room, the first thought on his mind was to sleep but he knew better than that. So he placed his coffee on the table and decided to take a shower first. As the hot water streamed down from his head the tension in his body was released and the muscles loosened up a bit. While in the shower Dean couldn’t help but think about Y/N. Her eyes kept flashing in his mind. The way she looked at the sky, it was as if she was missing something or someone. Whatever it was, Dean wanted to meet her again, he didn’t know why but he wanted to talk to her again and just sit with her like they did today. “You shouldn’t get your hopes too high. You don’t know what impression she got of you, maybe she doesn’t want to see you again?” he said to himself. Letting out a loud sigh he turned off the water and got out.

After getting into something comfortable he pulled out the books he got from library and settled himself on the desk chair preparing for a long night ahead. He was about to begin when he realised that there was something in the book he just opened, something like a piece of paper. He went through the book and found an envelope inside. It was very thin, probably empty, he thought and opened it. There was a paper inside, he took it out and opened it, turns out it was a letter. He shouldn’t do this. It’s not for him. But his curiosity got the better of him and he started reading the letter.

Dear stranger,
I don’t know whom I’m writing this letter to but I just wanted to get it out and I had no one to tell all this. So I’m just jotting down whatever comes to my mind. You don’t have to read it. Just leave it where you found it. Or you can go ahead and read it and judge me all you want. I was just having a bad day and I wanted to talk to someone about it, so here it goes.

Have you ever been afraid that you don’t know where your life is going. Like, you see people around you, so happy doing what they’re doing and knowing exactly what it is that they want from life and taking it in the right direction. Everything is planned out. They are out there living their life. Enjoying it. But then you come back to yourself and you realise that your life is the exact opposite of it. You have no clue of what you’re doing with your life and no idea what will happen in next five years. There is no plan. You don’t know when you have to do what. You are just going with the flow with no knowledge about how to get a better life. To achieve what you want.

There are a lot of things that I want to do. I want to travel, it sounds cliché but I want to go to places unknown. Meet new people and make new friends. I don’t want to be bound to a place forever. I want to make my own mistakes and learn from them. People keep telling me what to do and what not to do based upon what they did and how it ended and I’m tired of that. I want to be free. This is what I really want from life. 

But we live in a society where all this doesn’t matters. What matters is what job you get or how much money you make. You are even judged for whom you love. I’m frustrated because I’ve always been told to live my life how I want to but now here I am knowing nothing what I’m doing. 

All this is what I want but right now with how my life’s going I’m not sure if I’ll ever achieve it and that’s what scares me the most. The fear of settling for a life exact opposite of this. For the past few months I’ve been having break downs more than often. My body starts trembling, hands become cold and my legs become too weak to stand. I cannot stop the tears and suddenly I’m numb just lying there with tears rolling down.

So whoever’s reading this, I’m not trying to spill my problems on you and I’m not expecting any pity or trying to gain sympathy. It’s just there’s no one to talk to and this seemed to be the only way to get it out of my chest.
Yours,
Dreamer

anonymous asked:

I honestly cannot wait until the worst von beard ever goes far, far away. She doesn't make D look better, she's literally there to try to make herself look better. And she doesn't even achieve that: she's lazy, immature, and considers using snapchat as a way of her contributing something. Instead of helping D's image, she's making him look like an overgrown frat boy than the professional we all know he is and love.

No argument from me. It continues to blow my mind that people think that having her by his side boosts his image. She does the exact opposite.  She doesn’t even make an effort with her personal appearance 90% of the time. One would think that would be a requirement of the job when one is employed as a beard. Because she could be an attractive girl. But we never see that. 

Her behavior is childish and immature. She has not had a job outside of bearding in years with the exception of the occasional hand out (when is the video being released????????).  And she parties all of the time, which would be fine if she did anything else. She treats his fans terribly and mocks them. And she thinks she is better than everyone else because mommy and daddy are wealthy (the exact opposite of Darren who also has well off parents but chose to work his ass of to be successful in his own right). 

I despise when they try to bring him down to her level.  That does not help him and certainly does not help her.

Meanwhile, Darren’s actual partner is intelligent, talented, witty, beautiful, successful, and classy. But you know, he is male. So I suppose class and success don’t matter.

Beyond frustrating.  

Most dubs in my country are rubbish, cartoon dubs especially, and that goes for the four Bionicle movies too. I went through them to see how many translation screw-ups I can find, just to share my (and probably other Hungarian fans’) long-held frustration with an international audience. You may need a few years to spare cause it’s a lengthy list.

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Anatomy of a PR Suicide, Part 2

Word Cloud for Harry’s 2016 Tusk Force One article: 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3750837/Harry-s-tusk-force-one-Deep-African-bush-track-Prince-s-daring-mission-thwart-elephant-poachers.html

The keywords are elephants, helicopters, flying, mission, daring, endangered, tents, rough, protection,  working, camp, tents, low-key and team. There are lots of African location (Liwonde, Malawi, Nkhotakota, savannah) and action words.

Word cloud for Emily Andrews’ African Engagement Holiday exclusive:

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/4174187/prince-harry-puts-arm-around-meghan-markle-while-travelling-to-destination-popular-for-proposals/

The keywords are royal, holiday, together, hell (not sure why that word appears, honestly, but it’s kind of funny), safari, destination, birthday, couples, Suits, honeymoon, and filming. No action words (instead there are a lot of non-action verbs like planning and filming) and Africa is one big blob. There’s also a lot of “hype” words like heighten, speculation, popular, hugely.

So from daring and low-key prince working with endangered elephants and protecting nature to hyped romantic safari holiday destination prince hell (I think maybe “hell” is the word cloud program’s version of the “he will” contraction, as in “he’ll propose”) in less than a year.

The funny thing is that 100% of EA’s exclusive was dictated by Meg’s pr people (same way the DM’s Africa article was dictated by KP). I think the goal here was to make Ms. Markle look like a conservationist. It achieved the exact opposite effect and turned Harry into a rich celeb dilettante. Thumbs up, Hazza!

More “Markel Effect.”

On Izetta and the impact of a scene

Ever since I first saw Izetta a single scene always stuck out in my mind. A scene that immediately grabs your attention and simultaneously makes you laugh and smile at Izetta and Finé’s antics and then brings you back down to the reality of their situation. However, the more I came back to the scene the more I realized just how well thought out and clever it was. It’s not even 2 minutes long but it manages to carry an overarching theme throughout: Izetta’s view of Finé and their relationship with each other. Everything that the scene does from its’s color composition to its camera movements, to its body language is set up to expand upon that theme.

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Lucina romantic support with the Avatar: Lucina and Robin discuss their thoughts and goals, get to know each other, and show care and concern for each others health and well-being, as well as showing that they can rely on each other for support. In the end they marry each other and promise to stay by each other’s side and achieve victory together.

Chrom romantic support with the Avatar: I don’t dislike you, I thought you disliked me. Okay, cool, alright, well now that we’ve seen each other naked we should get married or something. Wind at my sails.