and i did fill my fridge with leftovers for the week

Our Pet Monster

TW: Mentions of Pedophilia

When we moved to Pine Drive, I never expected to find a conspiracy among the kids there.

I was an only child and a loner, thanks to my parents always moving. My dad’s job had him hopping from state to state. It was a pretty tough going if you wanted to make friends. But he promised that we’d stay at least six months here, so I had a chance to make at least one friend.

And whadya know, on my block, there were a ton of kids to make friends with.

I didn’t even really have to try. Two days after moving in, the Langley twins Diana and David were pounding on my door, asking who owned that bike parked in the front yard and if they wanted to play. I was shy but the twins were ecstatic to meet me.

Apparently their group had an odd number before I moved in and they needed equal teams to play their games with.

There was Alicia, who was six, she was the baby but she was very sweet. The oldest was Fletcher who was thirteen but his social skills were a bit behind so he didn’t mind hanging out with a bunch of nine and ten year olds. I think there was about ten of us all in all.

But I learned soon enough that there was a secret each of them shared.

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Bloody and Bruised

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

Requested?: Yes, it was!

Prompt: “Oh sorry I got so excited I didn’t think to read the tags.. I’m a ditz sometimes. Number 7 or 11 with Lafayette x reader then. Sorry! (11. I found you bloody and bruised in a strange alleyway, so far from home.)” (P.S. you’re not a ditz my friend)

Words: 1.6k+

A/N: so I was given a sentence for a drabble and this happened, haha. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about it but @secretschuylersister convinced me to post this so enjoy! 

Originally posted by hcwkeyes

You stepped out the back of the club for some fresh air. Being a bartender was hell when it was a Friday night and everyone in the city wanted to come to the “hottest club in the tri-state area”. You install a few blacklights and suddenly everyone is amazed that their white shirt glows in the dark. You rolled your eyes, pushing the loud, drunk customers to the back of your mind as you stretched. You froze when you heard a groan to your left. However, when you turned your head, nobody was there. You shrugged it off, leaning on the brick wall behind you when another groan came from the same direction.

“Help…me…” a voice croaked out.

You walked down the alley, pausing when you found a man laying in the middle of a pile of full trash bags.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You asked before you could think about it.

Of course he isn’t okay, in the dim lighting of the alley you could see blood, a lot of it, staining the white shirt the man wore. His body language screamed fatigue and his voice was shaky and weak.

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Drove past your house on the way home from work last night, a message from his dad says when he checks his phone one morning. The lights were on.

Niall already has his bags packed. His guitar is leant up against the wall by the front door of the rented flat, and a car is set to pick him up for the airport in a matter of hours. He presses the phone to the mattress, and then his head to his pillow. Screen and nose in threaded conversation upon sheets that aren’t his. His breath is warm of transparent longing on all that white, an It’s easier than it should be to change his destination in a matter of minutes.

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The Sober Drunk

I have a friend who looks absolutely sober when she’s drunk, she carries a perfectly sane conversation, stands straight, looks for all purposes like a sober person. And then she turns around and throws up on the sidewalk.

This a bit of pointless fun set in New Rome Chronicles.


There are types of drunk, Percy knows. College has taught him which ones his friends are. Jason is a sad drunk, whenever he overindulges he’s the one with his head in his hands mumbling about ruined childhood and his poor, poor friends. Piper is the over affectionate drunk, everyone is her best friend, everyone is the best person in the world. Frank the praetor makes it a point to not lose his wits in case an emergency arises and he’s often the appointed driver, or the one who collects the drunk friends and gets them out of the party when they’ve had enough, and the one time he got slightly buzzed all it did was make him sleepy. Percy had been told he was a giggly drunk, laughing at absolutely anything for fifteen minutes straight and then passing out.

Annabeth was different. She, like Frank, did not like the idea of losing her grip on herself so she very rarely got more than a drink or two in.

But the one time she’d gone out with her New Rome friends and came back drunk… Well. Percy actually had trouble recognizing the fact that she was drunk at all.

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clearly-shady-bouquet  asked:

Can you do them reacting to their S/O being good at baking but horrible at cooking?

ofc!! sorry it took so long exams have been kickin my ass


• u two are baking brownies for the boys since theyve been stressed lately and u wanted to do something nice for them
• shownu watches in awe as u expertly pour in and mix the brown batter in the bowl
• u always had some kinda magic touch when it came to baking, u knew how much sugar and flour to add in and when to add the vanilla extract
• it just made shownu smile bc wow how cute is that ur working ur butt off for some sweet treats for him and his members
• “hey (y/n) i’ll take over the stirring can u make eggs or something? i havent eaten all day”
• u freeze and give him a smile
• “sure”
• u hand him the bowl and walk over to the fridge to grab some eggs. easy enough right?
• u crack the eggs into the pan, not failing to leave some egg shell in the yolk thats starting to sizzle in the pan
• u turn to shownu whos diligently mixing the batter, workin up a sweat
• tbh he looks real good
• hes totally shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants and to top it off, a cute little pink apron that looks like its gonna bust open at the seams
• u lean against the stove, basking in the appearance of this actual adonis in an adorably domestic setting
• unfortunately u totally forget that stoves are hot and pull ur hand away as it stings with heat
• shownu puts the bowl down and rushes over to u, holding ur hands and blowing frantically at them
• “babe are u okay?” he asks worriedly, his eyes watching ur reaction closely to see if ur in any great pain
• u reassure him “im fine” until u hear the beeping of the fire alarm
• “oh my GOD”
• u turn around to see the pan totally covered in SMOKE and shownu switches the stove off
• ur kinda upset that u cant even make eggs for ur boyfriend but shownu just chuckles and kisses ur forehead
• “next time i’ll cook okay?”


• “baby are u hungry?” wonho comes into ur shared room where ur sitting in bed on ur phone. he wraps his arms around ur waist and nuzzles his nose into ur neck
• u smile at the sensation. “mm kinda? what do u wanna eat?”
• he gives u a knowing smile and u sigh and get up from the mattress
• “ramen?”
• he smiles and takes a hold of ur hand, stroking ur index finger with his thumb
• u know me so well"
• the two of u chase each other to the kitchen and u grab the very familiar plastic bowl labelled shin ramen
• u rip off the lid and unlock the hot water dispenser, filling the bowl to an unsteady level where the water is teetering around the edges. u put the bowl in the microwave and punch in 50 seconds
• all seems well until u hear some popping noises from inside the microwave
• “um. babe”
• “yea?” u ask, too scared to turn around and see what happened inside the microwave
• “did u take out the sauce packet before adding water and putting it in there?”
• “oh my g-”
• wonho moves u out of the way and opens the microwave, his face contorting at the smell of burning plastic and the sight of ramen sauce power all over the inner surface. some soup flowed over the top too
• u laugh nervously, put ur hand over wonhos, and close the microwave. u head over to the fridge and take out a plate
• “how about we eat the macarons i made yesterday?” u give a sheepish smile
• a smile creeps onto his face and a goofy laugh escapes his lips. ur hysterically laughing and he’s bent over his knees, so thoroughly amused by ur antics
• “man i dont know how u do it. but yea i’ll take a macaron” he opens his mouth. u pop one into his mouth and he chews then hums with delight
• “these are so good??? what happened just now? are u the same (y/n) i know and love?”
• u two laugh again and he puts u in a playful headlock and plants kisses on the top of ur head


• u got a text earlier that ur boyfriends gonna come home late so u wanna surprise him with a nice meal
• u can bake a mean cake but ur not too confident about ur cooking abilities
• but u’ve baked minhyuk so many cookies and cakes and cupcakes ur worried for that boys blood sugar
• so after watching 3 youtube tutorials u try to make kimchi stew, one of his favorites
• u roll up ur sleeves and get to work. u throw some broth and vegetables into the pot
• u cut some kimchi then some fishcake some spring onions u get the pork out of the fridge
• u think its going well
• until u get a text from minhyuk that he’s on the way home
• according to ur calculations he was supposed to be coming home late
• shit
• u do some quick math if u boil the stew at maximum heat for 2 minutes u’ll finish in time before minhyuk gets home so u crank that stove up and
• KACHOW the pot overflows
• soup is everywhere, the kimchi is on the floor, ur kitchen looks like a natural disaster
• “honey! where are u???”
• he comes into the kitchen sweaty from practice and ur just on the floor crying next to ur empty pot, food is scattered around the floor
• “oh baby what happened?” he cooes at u and crouches down next to u, wiping ur tears with his thumb
• u barely manage to get a sentence out
• “i-i tried to cook u” u hiccup, “something but e-everything just fell apart”
• he kisses u on the forehead and stands up to grab his phone
• “well i like pizza. how about we order some pizza and we watch kitchen nightmares yea?” u flinch at kitchen nightmares. “okay how about we watch house hunters” u nod frantically and smile
• totally ignore the mess on the floor
• u clean it up eventually dont worry


• u made a deal with minhyuk that at the next house party u were gonna cook something to bring and kihyun was gonna bake a cake to bring along with the food u made and in return he was gonna make a video of himself flicking a booger and post it on instagram
• the problem? minhyuk knows u cant cook for shit and kihyun cant bake for shit
• kihyun originally protested saying “he doesn’t want his house to end in flames” but after minhyuk kept egging him on saying he was a wuss, he threw on his apron and started reading martha stewart books
• so u and him are in ur kitchen, face in hands and sitting at the counter
• “why did i agree to this”
• “why did i let u agree to this”
• u sigh and slide off the stool. “i mean i can make like, fried rice right?” kihyun groans. “knowing u it might result in a call to 911” u shoot him a glare. “hey bobby flay at least i know how to bake a cake”
• he scratches his head and gets off the stool. “how about we make this a competition between ourselves. whoever makes the better dish wins”
• “ur on yoo kihyun”
• its like iron chef u two start scrambling around ur kitchen, opening cabinets and packages
• u lift the lid of the rice cooker and groan in frustration as u see a clean, empty container
• kihyun indulges himself in a shrill giggle until it abruptly stops when he’s opened the last cabinet and found no cake mix
• “u’ve got to be kidding me”
• u hover over the grey pot, finally shutting off the faucet when the rice grains look like they’re drowning in tap water
• kihyun’s throwing sugar, flour, and eggs into a bowl, trusting his “chef’s intuition” that he doesn’t need measuring cups for a mere cake
• u throw the soggy rice into the pan and just start adding stuff u think will taste good together in there. zucchini, bits of kale, ketchup, leftover chicken that probably has been sitting in ur fridge for at least 2 weeks
• it smells pretty goddamn awful but when u look over at kihyun u think u have a good shot at winning
• he’s gotten green food coloring all over his hands and t-shirt and the batter’s completely runny
• “how u doin ogre there”
• “im never doing this ever again”


• u two are laying on opposite sides of the couch, sitting up to show each other dog pictures and whatnot
• u see a video on instagram showing u how to make this yummy looking beef over rice thing
• u lean over hyungwons knee, excitedly showing him the video and how u should make it for him
• he gives u this knowing look
• “(y/n) do u remember the last time u cooked something?”
• “no why”
• “i was taking a nap and u tried to make this weird chicken thing u saw on youtube”
• “uh huh”
• “and when i walked into the kitchen”
• “yea?”
• “i have never seen so much fire-”
• u playfully slap him on the thigh, pouting. “i forgot to turn the stove down while it was boiling!!!” u huff, turning away while crossing ur arms
• hyungwon laughs and sits up to ruffle ur hair
• “but u made it up by baking cupcakes to give to the very nice firemen who saved our apartment”
• u giggle and bring ur knees up to ur chin, reminiscing in the time u almost burned down ur entire apartment complex
• hyungwon sits crosslegged facing u, staring at ur face
• “what?”
• “im just wondering how the hell u managed to do that”
• “no cupcakes for u then”
• he whines and the two of u share a laugh and settle back into the sofa to continue laughing at twitter memes


• he never fails to send u a text asking if u’ve eaten yet and if ur free, to go out and get lunch together
• its the sweetest thing and u decide u wanna do something nice for him
• so u roll up ur sleeves and make a lunchbox for him. its kinda childish but it seems easy to make and for ur……limited cooking skills, its ideal
• ur in the kitchen, scraping an egg off the pan as it burns to a crisp
• “aw man that was the last egg,” u whine, looking at all the failed prototypes on a plate next to the stove
• u begrudgingly roll up the burnt egg in the lunchbox and set up some lettuce on the side, trying to make it presentable at least
• now time for the Meat
• the last time u cooked meat was when u and jooheon were out eating kbbq and whenever the tongs were in ur hand u’d somehow toss the meat in a way that cooked it. lets say well overdone
• jooheon had to call a worker to get the fire down even tho it was at its lowest heat. nobody on the restaurant knows how u did it
• so yea ur not the best at cooking meat but hey second times the charm
• so u slide the beef into the pan, satisfied with the sizzling sound that came after
• now the hard part. knowing when to flip it so it doesnt slowly burn into charcoal. so u just keep flipping it mindlessly, too scared to let it burn
• the beef is just NOT turning the brown that it usually does when jooheon cooks it and u settle for when the beef is a weird brown, pink, red—u dont even know what color it is but its 12:30pm and jooheons lunch break is about to start
• u shrug as u pack the lunchbox. u made cookies before this mess so
• u drive up to the building complex and climb up the stairs to his studio. u punch in the passcode and pop the door open
• jooheon hears the door click and turns around in his chair, giving u that sweet dimpled smile
• u show him the lunchbox and bag of cookies u’ve been hiding behind ur back and he opens his arms to bring u into a hug
• “how did i get so lucky?” he kisses the top of ur head and sits u down on his lap
• he turns the chair around and u place the lunchbox and the cookie bag on his desk in front of his monitor and open it
• he has to stop himself from laughing, the corners of his lips trembling to rise into a smile. u flick him on the arm, a smile growing on ur own face. “shut up i tried my best!!!!!”
• jooheon kisses ur temple, a small chuckle leaving his lips still dumbfounded by the mess of food in the lunchbox
• “i made cookies?” u suggest
• “yea we can share those” jooheon closes the lunchbox


• u guys ate out at this one restaurant that had really good pork stir fry
• so naturally u two went to the internet and searched up recipes to cook at home, inspired by the dish
• after finding a seemingly easy recipe online, u and changkyun head to the kitchen and grab whatevers in ur fridge
• oh by the way its 1 in the morning so theres no supermarkets still open
• it sounded like a good idea at the time
• anyways u two are jus rummaging through ur kitchen, substituting whatever needs to be substituted
• “hey kyun we’re outta sugar”
• “we have lucky charms”
• “that works”
• u and him lay out the shabby ingredients on the counter
• pork? eh leftover hot wings should do
• bok choy? iceberg lettuce thats been sitting in ur fridge for 3 months
• but at least u have soy sauce
• u start choppin up the lettuce, slicin and dicin and ignoring whatever wilted leaves u see bc hey food is food
• changkyun: hey how do i start the stove
• “…….ur kidding right”
• u put down ur knife and walk to the stove, hesitant to turn any knobs
• “um its this one right?”
• u switch on the stove on the inner right corner which seemed fine to u…….until the roll of napkins next to it caught fire
• the fire alarm starts beeping and u freak out and start blowing on it until changkyun shoves his hand into ur face. “DONT BLOW ON IT ITLL GET BIGGER”
• luckily ur dating the son of a scientist so he grabs a pot lid from the cabinet underneath and throws it on top of the fire, stopping the flow of oxygen and u hear the sizzle of ur bounty napkins
• u and changkyun breathe out a relieved sigh and u lean on him
• u suggest making cookies tomorrow and changkyun insists on putting lucky charms in them
• u roll ur eyes, “yea yea whatever lets clean up and go to bed”

Black Hearts

Thanks to the amazing @bkwrm523 for beta-ing this. This is by far my favorite Spideypool x Reader fic I have written. Hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by sandra-san

You stand in front of you apartment door, fumbling for the key in your bag. You hear your boyfriends’ muffled voices coming from the other side of the door; smiling you unlock the door and barge right in. The first person you see is Peter, who is leaning against the counter, spatula in hand. Setting the bag down on the floor, you move into the kitchen. And that’s when you see Wade, sprawled out on the couch, watching television.

“Fellas, what’s going on?” You grin, moving toward Peter, who pulls you into a hug and not letting go until he places a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m making tacos tonight, per Wade’s request,” Peter informs you; you look up at the brown haired man, placing a hand on his cheek.

“You’re too good to us, Peter Parker.”

He smiles, turning his attention back to the ground beef cooking on the stove. You move around the counter towards the couch, where Wade pulls you down onto his lap.

“How was work, sweet buns?” He smirks as his hand rides up your shirt.

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My Cat!

Author: Zoe

(A/N: I love cats and Oscar Isaac.)

Modern Poe Dameron x Reader AU

Plot Summary: A stray cat starts meowing loudly in front of your apartment door. Thus leading to you letting the cat indoors to stay for a few nights while you try to find the owner. On the other hand, Poe’s been putting flyers up all over the town, looking for BB, hoping someone came across his cat.

Originally posted by trelkez

“Meow! Mrah mrah!” You heard small scritches outside your apartment door, debating on whether or not you should get up from your comfy spot laid across the couch eating popcorn out of a bowl like a lizard.

After a few more seconds of meowing and scratching, you sit up and stretch, deciding to be a good samaritan and let the cat in before night fell so it wouldn’t freeze to death.

“Come on in, little buddy. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” You creaked the door open, not wanting to scare the feline away from the door. However, the cat just trotted on inside, immediately curling up by your electric fireplace.

“Well that was easy.” You chuckled to yourself and closed the door before the cold wind flies into the apartment.

“BB! BB, where are you?” Poe shivered as he called out into the night, worried sick.

He taped on another ‘Missing Cat’ poster onto a telephone pole and blew into his gloves, trying to warm himself up.

He shouted once again into the night, “BB!” He pulled up his jacket hood, continuing his walk down the street.

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One Big Chance Encounter

Title: One Big Chance Encounter
Fandom: Endless Summer
For round 8 of #ChoicesCreates, hosted by @hollyashton​ and @firefly-hwufanficwriter​.  This week’s prompt is: Friendship!
Word Count: 867

Summary: On one of their quieter nights, the La Huerta gang decides to take a look back at how mundane their lives were just only a few weeks ago.  


Pop music blared from the speakers, the heavy beat invigorating the muscles of every student tearing up the dance floor, letting loose one last time before the end of the term.  

An incredibly loud shout stood out among the masses.  “I LOOOVE COLLEGE!” Craig yelled, to no one in particular, before chugging his entire pitcher of beer.  

A distant “CHEERS TO THAT!” is heard amidst all the noise, coming from a frat boy in flannel, repping his Sigma Chi gear at the club.  Several other cheers followed Craig’s toast, each and every one of them feeling a wave of euphoria as the end is near.    

Not so far away, Michelle ran her hand through her hair as she twirled across the dance floor, her movements mesmerizing everyone she glided past. She couldn’t help but soak it all in, right before she landed safely in her boyfriend’s arms.  Sean’s chest pressed against her back, his arms wrapped around her waist…their bodies swayed together in sync with the music.  

By the bar, a certain redhead leaned against the edge, sipping a cocktail a random young man offered her.  Quinn giggled at everything he’s saying, but not because everything that came out of his mouth was even remotely funny.  Instead, she laughed because her mind had drifted away for quite a while now, and as unfocused and intoxicated as she is, she could think of no other response. She had her attention fixated on a lady she saw from the corner of her eye, dancing in a lacy red bodysuit and high-waist black shorts.  

Taylor was the epitome of perfect tonight.  Her outfit hugged her curves in all the right places, and as humble a person she usually is, she knew she looked good.  With her confidence soaring especially high tonight, she closed her eyes and escaped into a trance, absorbing the music that flowed into her ears and swayed her body for her.  Despite having several men and women approaching her to ask for a dance, she turned them all down tonight, explaining that she’s here with her best friend, and only wanted to be with best friend.

Diego rolled his eyes every time he saw Taylor reject another person, their eyes always so full of lust as they entered his best friend’s aura.  He leaned into Taylor, shouting against the music blasting from all corners, “Go get laid, for Christ’s sake!  I’ll be fine by myself.”

“No!” Taylor shouted back into his ear, “I’d rather hang out with you.  Besides,” She winked, “I have all week in La Huerta to do whatever I want.”  She took his hand and raised it above her, spinning and twirling until she lost some sense of the reality she’s in.  

Blocks away, there sat three lone wolves.  

On a Friday night, furious tapping can be heard in one student’s dimly lit room. Zahra sat on her bed, mattress dented from the countless hours she’s spent in that spot, coding to her heart’s desire.  Three years ago, there used to be a presence beside her, whom she misses geeking out with, but she would bet all of her possessions that right now he’s out there somewhere, losing his mind over some shitty beer and more shitty pop music.  

Aleister hovered over his own desktop, furiously tapping away at the letters on his keyboard.  He was overcome with emotion, when he found out his father, his very own father, not only did not invite him to his island destination, but instead selected ten random students from his very own college.  It was sick.  His father is sick.  His island is sick.  Aleister felt sick, sick to his stomach.

Silence filled the school gym.  The only exception was the panting, which echoed along the walls each time Estela’s fists collided against the punching bag hung in front of her.  As the countdown until she sets foot on La Huerta sand comes closer by the second, there is no time to waste.  Nobody knows her plans – not even her own uncle – but what she plans to do will wreck havoc among everything remotely connected to her.

A little further away from everybody else, somewhere on the other side of town, Grace once again wrapped up another plate of dinner to be stored in the fridge. There were leftovers stacked on top of leftovers on top of leftovers…she heaved a heavy sigh and wished for the impossible: Is it too much to ask for one’s own mother to acknowledge their child for once in their life?


“Wow,” Jake snorts upon hearing the kids recalling where they all were, exactly two weeks before they trapped themselves on the island.  “Funny how that worked out, huh?  It’s almost like you’re all destined to be one big, dysfunctional family. Like ‘Friends’, except more fucked up and raging with hormones flying everywhere.”

The college students blink away from their memories, their gaze diverting from the bonfire in front of them to their fellow classmates sitting around the crackling flames. The pilot had a point:  All their ambitions, histories, and secrets tied them together, some admittedly crossing paths more often than others.  Was this really one gigantic chance encounter, bringing them all together once and for all, or are they destined for a mission, a future, grander than anything their scholarly minds can imagine?  

Begin Again: Chapter 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 End
Word count: 2,373
Warnings: a couple of swear words, mention and brief description of a panic attack
(Tags at the end)

Bucky had been standing at the head of the bench press spotting Steve for the past twenty minutes, only half concentrating on his friend. Steve could handle dropping the weight on himself, probably. His mind was still reeling from the conversation he had had with you last night on the balcony. He had woken up at two in the morning and had ran into you in the kitchen when he got up to make himself some green tea to calm himself down.

He figured Sam had been exaggerating, but dammit the tea actually helped. 

Bucky knew that as much as you liked to talk, you also treasured your peace and so he hadn’t expected for your eyes to widen momentarily as you took in his panic-stricken form. You had been in the compound for … almost a month? And yet it was so easy to open up to you.

‘What are you thinking so hard about?’ Steve panted. 

Bucky blinked, losing his staring contest with the wall opposite. ‘Nothing,’ 

‘If you wanted to ask her out, she’d say yes.’

Bucky snapped out of his daze, looking down at his friend, but stayed calm. Steve was a dork but he was also observant, especially when it came to his teammates. Bucky wasn’t surprised that Steve picked up on his crush. 

‘I don’t think so,’ Bucky replied, abandoning Steve on the bench and hooking up a punching bag at the opposite end of the room. ‘She’s just being friendly.’

Steve smirked. ‘She doesn’t take the time to coax everyone back to sleep, Buck.’

Bucky blushed furiously. ‘How’d you know about that? And she doesn’t do it all the time, just happened like twice.’ 

‘Still, that’s more than enough.’

Bucky tried to suppress his broad smile. ‘You know she told me to screw Hydra,’ he chuckled.

‘What?’ Steve laughed breathlessly, resting the bar in place and sitting up.

‘No seriously, it was awesome,’ Bucky said. ‘I mean, I appreciate everyone’s patience but I think I needed to hear that.’

‘You’re only proving my point,’ Steve said knowingly. 

Bucky made a face and shook his head. ‘We’re friends, Steve, but I don’t think she’d want someone with so much baggage. Relationships are different.’

‘You’re just talking hypothetically,’ Steve argued. 

‘Steve, she -’ Bucky scowled. ‘She’s like the sun, y’know? She’s so good at everything I’m terrible at and she’s so smart and she’s gonna graduate from college and have this fancy high-tech job and fucking live this life that I can’t be a part of because I’m still trying to learn what the fuck this century even is!’

Steve surveyed his friend as he voiced all his thoughts that had been accumulating for the past few weeks; maybe longer, maybe since he had come out of cryo in Wakanda. It wasn’t news to Bucky that his experience under Hydra was an unfortunate, horrific chain of events that were never a result of his own doing, and although Bucky was still healing from his past he didn’t quite need to be comforted as much on the issue. It was that Bucky felt like he was falling behind; it was combination of his PTSD and his frustration with his PTSD, and the incredibly rational fear of his captors and the organisation they were part of. Bucky was just scared. 

‘I really like her but I like being her friend and I don’t … I don’t want to push my luck.’

After three weeks of living in the compound, the butterflies in your stomach were getting increasingly harder to ignore. Around you, Bucky completely eased into this charming, dorky, guy whose smile could reverse climate change and outshine the sun. 

The worst part was that there was a completely rational part of you that was content with being Bucky’s friend - not only that, but that part of you knew that it was the best thing for him. The man was only just starting to adjust to life here after seventy years spent as a weapon, two spent alone trying to salvage bits and pieces of himself to construct a new level of normalcy, and then ending up in the middle of a crisis resulting in being sent back into cryo. Bucky didn’t need a love life, he needed a friend (besides mum-friend Steve) and you were more than happy to fill in the blanks. 

And then there was the irrational, irritating part of you that wanted nothing more than for Bucky to grab you and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You wanted everything you had with him now - the times when you taught him basic mechanics, binge-watching Parks and Recreation after everyone had gone to sleep, midnight pizzas, and drag races (him in one of Stark’s flashy cars, you on your first born child-slash-motorcycle) … You just wanted to kiss him while you did all of that. 

And of course there was the one most poignant worst moment of your life where you and Bucky were driving together just to get some time away from the bustle of the compound; the sun was setting, highlighting the sky with brilliant fiery oranges and golden hues and the light kissed his skin and made his eyes glow like stars or water when the moonlight hit it just right. There was a comfortable silence in the car, save for the music coming from your phone which you had plugged into the speaker system. You were passing through the older, more crooked part of Brooklyn when Bucky knitted his eyebrows and said -

‘I think I used to live here.’

You turned in the passenger’s seat to face him. ‘Really? How can you tell?’

Bucky turned the car back around, circling around the block. ‘There’s gotta be a street sign somewhere,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Yeah, look!’

Bucky ended up parking the car on the pavement. You both got out and he lead you down between two decrepit apartment buildings; the fire escapes were rusting, black paint chipped, and the brickwork was starting to crumble. Still, with the way the setting sun was hitting the buildings and casting long shadows from the window panes across the walls, it was picturesque. 

Bucky made a point of walking next to you, so close that your arms brushed together. He had his hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket.

‘It used to be kinda sketchy,’ he admitted by means of explanation. ‘But Steve and I lived close to each other and there was this lady who lived with her niece next door and they were always real nice to us. Steve and I used to babysit her niece in the summer while she was at work …’

You smiled at him as he spoke endlessly about his days here. It was the first time he had told you memories of his past before Bucharest, before Hydra, before that period of time where his lifeline knotted and frayed and unraveled. You knew that Steve must have been aiding Bucky in regaining his memories and that there was a time where Bucky held no emotion for the things that he remembered while he tried to place himself back in some sort of timeline, but right here you sensed that Bucky knew he had reasons to be happy. It was all you could ever really ask for, all you realised you wanted for him.

Bucky broke off his sentence, looking at you and realising you had been staring at him. ‘And, yeah, that’s - that’s how we …’

You smirked at his blush and looked away. 

‘What?’ Bucky ducked his head down, smiling nervously, that animated glint still prevalent in his eyes.

You shook your head lightly unable to stifle your smile. ‘Your Brooklyn accent was getting really strong there.’

Living in the compound also meant picking up on the habits of your housemates, meaning you soon found that your window of solidarity rested between one and five o’clock in the morning. No one slept before eleven; people would start to wake at five; no one slept after nine a.m. (except Wanda who, like you, appreciated the art of sleeping until the sun was high in the sky sometimes. You really liked Wanda); Between eleven at night and one in the morning, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky would be playing video games and binge-eating. You loved the team but you also loved being alone sometimes. 

Which was why you were surprised to see Steve in the kitchen at two in the morning. If not asleep, he should have been in the gym.

‘Shouldn’t you be beating the living sand out of a punching bag, Cap?’ you asked as you dug around in the fridge looking for last night’s leftovers. You’d be damned if Sam got to the vegetable lo mein before you did.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he replied. 

‘How’d you know I’d be awake?’

‘FRIDAY monitors our activity,’ said Steve smiling somewhat tauntingly; his arms were folded over his chest. ‘I figured a genius such as yourself would know that over a hundred year old man.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘What do you want, Steve?’

‘What’s going on between you and Bucky?’

You choked on the mouthful of noodles, eyes streaming as you took several sips of water to calm yourself down. 

‘What?’ you coughed.

Steve seemed completely unphased by your shock. He didn’t say anything. 

‘Me … Bucky and I - no, there’s nothing,’ you said trying to sound calm.

Steve stayed quiet.

‘I’m serious,’ you emphasised. 

Steve blinked. 

You scoffed. ‘I think Barnes is a little too old for me, Cap, no thanks. We’re just friends, I’m catching him up on something called the twenty-first century, mother, so - I don’t think so.’

There was another beat of silence where your heartbeat pounded in your ears and blood crept up your neck, a blush colouring your cheeks.

Steve quirked an eyebrow and smiled. ‘He’s the same way.’

You paused. ‘What?’

‘He likes you.’

You shook your head and smiled self-deprecatingly. ‘I know that relationships work a little differently now but you’re reading too much into this, Cap. Bucky and I are friends.’

‘I haven’t seen him like this - ever,’ Steve added. ‘Even when we were in high school, Bucky was never this carefree.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Steve,’ you said firmly. ‘I don’t even like him, I have the emotional range of a grape.’

‘That’s not true.’ The bastard didn’t even acknowledge your grape comment. 

‘Steve, I’m not some saving grace that’s gonna get Bucky out of whatever pit he’s in.’

‘That’s the point though, that’s why he likes you,’ Steve implored. ‘Bucky’s been through hell and all he wants is to move on from that. Stark and Natasha thought it best to throw him into missions to get his mind focused but you’re grounding him. I don’t wanna sound dramatic -’

‘You are dramatic, Captain I-Don’t-Need-A-Parachute,’ you grumbled.

‘But you’re basically giving Bucky a reason to be happy here.’

‘Anyone who makes that guy a new arm would,’ you muttered. ‘And that doesn’t mean that he feels anything for me.’

‘You don’t see the way he looks at you,’ Steve argued, ‘and he’s too shy to say anything.’

You stared at him, speechless, with your arms folded, your snack abandoned on the kitchen counter. How does he look at me? The question was on the tip of your tongue but …

‘Bucky’s nice and all, Steve, but I don’t think he’s interested,’ you mumbled. ‘Now,’ you cleared your throat, ‘if you aren’t going to damage Tony’s gym equipment, then I will.’ 

On your way out, you passed through the dead silent corridor, pausing when you noticed that Bucky’s door was ajar. Approaching cautiously, with a stealth Natasha would be proud of, you peered through the gap.

Bucky was sitting on the edge of his bed hunched forward with his head in his hands breathing raggedly; Natasha was sitting next to him, close but not touching. You could hear her murmuring words you couldn’t understand - she was speaking in Russian. You remembered Natasha once saying that she wanted to give Bucky some positive affiliation with fragments of his past, including the language of Bucky’s days as the Winter Soldier.

Bucky was rubbing his hand harshly over his heart.His eyes were screwed shut.

Natasha must have sensed you were there because she looked up and beckoned you closer; as if pulled by an invisible string, you complied and sat by Bucky’s left side.

‘Barnes, you okay?’ you breathed, brow creasing when he nodded without looking up.

‘Breathe through your nose,’ you said in the same tone. ‘Nice and slow.’ You did the motions with him. ‘In … and out …’

Bucky repeated your instructions and you could tell by the gradual ease in his shoulders that his breathing was starting to regulate.

‘What happened?’ you murmured to Natasha.

She bit her lip. ‘Panic attack,’ she replied almost silently.

You looked briefly around you, eyes falling on a glass of water, full to the brim.

‘Is this …?’

‘Yeah,’ Nat replied. ‘I’ll leave you guys alone.’

You knelt down in front of him, one hand cupping the back of his neck and rubbing it gently with your thumb, and the other squeezing his knee. Keeping one hand on his neck, you brought the other to his chin, prompting him to look at you. His eyes were circled with darkening shadows and were streaming with fatigue. You smiled softly at him, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck soothingly.

‘I-it was -’

‘You’re fine,’ you hushed. ‘Breathe now, tell me later, yeah? We’ve got all the time in the world,’ you smirked gently.

It was like clockwork the way you were with him.

‘C’mon,’ you prompted, handing him the glass. ‘Small sips.’

You could feel another set of eyes boring into you and you shifted your eyes past Bucky’s figure and saw Steve watching you with a raised brow and a knowing smirk - past the despondency he felt for his friend - and then retreating to his room.

You ignored him, pushing his words to the back of your mind. You didn’t need his assumptions that Bucky felt anything non-platonic towards you; right now you just wanted Bucky to get his breathing back to normal and get some sleep.

Tags: @lauraonly @mytastereckless @hedakylo @wefracturedmotivation @eternal-queen @dontfuckwithkezolas @mrs-brxghtside @blackdemonseriexx

needed me - kim yugyeom

Request:  Can you do a angst with yugyeom based on the song needed me by rihana???

Hey babe! Yes I caaaan! (there won’t be smut like a lot of angst fics just because i don’t write smut any longer, so I hope that’s okay with you!)

Member: Yugyeom of GOT7

Genre: Angst/Drama

Summary: You and Yugyeom can’t understand each other anymore.



“Tell me why.”

“Please, jagiya, I’m begging you.”

“I can wait…”

“I need to know why. Please.” 

“It’s killing me, jagiya. Please, for God’s sake, please.”


His words echoed in your mind with each hit. You were numb to them by now. You took each one, not bothering to fight back, allowing the man’s knuckles to crash against your jaw. Red stained your lips, stained his irritated fist, ripping skin open. You stumbled backwards into the net of the ring and lolled your head forwards. The man took a step back, caught off guard, before you rushed forwards with your own fist. It collided with the side of his his cheek, another on his throat, then his eye, then his jaw. Your mind went blank with each hit, red covering your sight.

Someone had to pry you off him. You didn’t fight back. Instead, you allowed yourself to be yanked to your feet by the biceps. Your face throbbed as you stared down at your opponent- some middle-aged Korean man with his cheek swollen and blood dripping from the side of his unconscious lips. A pang of guilt stabbed you in the side.

“Stay away for awhile,” your trainer said softly. You glanced up at the woman- her name was Soyun, and she was a world-renowned boxer with three titles under her belt. Muscles bulged in her arms as she dabbed at your face with a wet, sanitized napkin. “I know you’re hurting but-”

“I’m not,” you snapped back, then winced. It hurt to speak, but the pain was nice.

“I know he hurt you-”

“He didn’t.”

“Y/N,” Soyun sighed. When she removed the napkin it was stained red. She tossed it aside and reached for another disinfectant wipe. “You can’t keep running here whenever you’re hurt. It’s not healthy, okay? I know it’s good money, but-”

“I didn’t fight for the money,” you glared- well, half of you did. One of your eyes was swollen so that it was narrowed beforehand, but the other mirrored it spitefully. “Well, actually- I could use it. I don’t exactly have a place to stay.”

Soyun wiped the blood from your split lip, to which you hissed under your breath, “You could stay at mine.”

You looked up at her quickly. “You know the rules.”

She smiled softly and stepped back, tossing out the stained wipes. Her careful fingers placed bandages along your cuts and added neosporin to your swelling eye. “Fuck the rules,” she brushed your stray hair back from your face and gave you a hopefully spiteful look. You gathered your things in a dufflebag, which wasn’t much- some shirts you’d taken from your and Yugyeo- your ex’s dorm, pants, and other essentials.

“Are you sure?” You looked at Soyun hesitantly.

“Or, you know, you could go home,” Soyun said as she slung your money bag over her shoulder. You rolled your good eye and adjusted your hoodie so that it was over your head- you didn’t exactly want anyone to see you looking like that. “He misses you, Y/N, he wants to explain-”

“Fuck him and his explanation,” you spat angrily. “I don’t care about him. I don’t need him, I don’t- I don’t, okay? I just don’t.”

“You do care about him,” Soyun shook her head with a slight laugh. You glared at her.

“What, do you talk to him or something?” You scoffed in disbelief.

Soyun looked at you sharply, “No. But I’ve been monitoring him for you.” 

You spun around to look at her, eyes wide. “You’ve been what?” 

“I’m just making sure he-” 

“Soyun, that’s completely against what I wanted,” you ran one of your bruised hands down your face and groaned under your breath. “What if someone found you? What if someone from here followed you and saw him?” 

“You’re on the cover of every magazine with him since the two of you came out,” Soyun snorted. The two of you passed through the back door and marched up a set of steps, which had you wincing with each one you took. She made to put an arm under to help you, but you shrugged it off, insisting on doing it yourself. 

“Yeah,” you laughed bitterly. “Now it’s him and whatever the fuck her name is.” 

“Maybe if you just heard his side-” 

“It was my fault,” you snapped, not bothering to look at her. You knew how she could tell what you felt by looking at you- like he could. “I got too close, Soyun. That was my own fault. Not his. Why would he date me, anyway? I fight people for a living. She’s an idol- she’s pale and perfect and has straight dark hair and a perfect body. I’m… me.” 

“You’re you is amazing,” Soyun added hopefully. “When I monitor him I see-” 

“Don’t tell me,” you squeezed your good eye shut. “I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“He misses you,” Soyun finished with a sigh. You rolled your eye and adjusted your bag on your sore shoulder. “I’m serious,” 

“I don’t care,” you returned sourly. “Can we just get to yours? I’m starving.” 

“You should be,” Soyun laughed. She held the door open for you, which you offered her a tense smile, and crawled in. “You annihilated that guy.” 


Everything reminded him of her. 

Her stuff was still there. She hadn’t come back for it. Her clothes were gone, but she’d forgotten the teddy bear he gave her for their three month anniversary, and the flowers he got her for their two year last week were wilting on the shelf. Everything smelt like her- vanilla and something like pumpkin spice (he overheard her saying she loved that particular scent). Her pillow was still wrinkled from where she last laid her head. Her high heels were by the door, her dress from the night where they’d gone out dancing on the floor where she’d messily dropped it in a haste of kisses and laughs. 

She was everything. 

So it only made sense that everything reminded him of her. 

And it hurt. It hurt because she didn’t trust him. It hurt because she left so easily, like- like he never mattered to her, or anything. It hurt because he knew that she had a tendency to be outspoken, and it hurt because he knew that she would be ridiculed for what he’d done- for what that trainee had done. 

The girl, who’s name Yugyeom never got, had tricked him, and JYP. She was a trainee who only came in last month during trials, someone who had lured Yugyeom outside by saying something that his Y/N needed him. Of course, he rushed out, following her, and when he did she led him to one of JYP’s relaxation gardens. She’d pulled him against her for a kiss and Yugyeom had made to push her back, but she’d plotted cameras- cameras with angles that made it look like it was his fault. 

When he came home, after all the magazines had been published and the news shared over every social media platform, she was already gone. No note. No warning. Just her stuff left everywhere, except for some shirts and pants. Every night, he felt like he was being watched- by her teddy bear, by her things, by the pictures of them on the wall and the one by his bed. His wallpaper was her laughing at the camera due to his puns, and every time he opened his phone he was reminded that she was gone. 

She didn’t trust easily. Actually, she didn’t trust at all. Which was another reason why this hurt him so badly- he was the first person she’d ever lived with, ever said “I love you” to romantically, ever put her whole self into. And then she was gone. Just like that. 

There was no better time for hunger to strike.


“No food?” Soyun peered over your shoulder into the fridge, her dark eyes searching the half-filled containers of leftovers from Jun’s down the street. 

Her home was suffocating. She had pictures of her family everywhere, everything was neat though it was lived in. It reminded you of your home- of the home you didn’t have anymore. You swallowed and bent your knees, slipping under her shoulder and standing. “I’ll go buy some takeout,” you announced suddenly, grabbing a wad full of cash and stuffing it into your pocket. 

“Are you sure?” Soyun looked at you in surprise. “You’re not exactly in the best state, Y/N.” 

You smiled, “Come on, Soyun. You and I both know it could be worse.” 

Soyun laughed lightly. “You’re right,” she tilted her head and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “If you need anything, call, okay?” 

Quickly, you padded on some concealer, wincing although it lessened the red irritation and discoloration on your skin. With a smile at her, you disappeared out the front door. 

The cool night air was enough to make you sigh in relief. You inhaled a breath of it and exhaled, amazed at how suddenly fresh it had become. The moon was somehow warm on your skin, glowing against your bruised face. You limped along the road, willing yourself slowly to walk normally. It hurt- just as much as it had beforehand, but you knew now that you were walking like you hadn’t just been in a ring with a prestigious boxer. 

Jun’s was a small little diner just down the street from Soyun’s, and you inwardly cursed yourself because it was also a couple blocks away from you- his dorm. The inside was nice enough- there was a pool table in the corner, where a couple of drunks had gathered and were laughing loudly as they played the game. On the other side, there were a handful of booths and another handful of occupied tables. The owner, Jun, stood at the back of the cash register, smiling jovially at everyone who entered. 

“Y/N-ah,” Jun greeted you. His smile faltered when he saw your face, a tiny frown settling in on his lips. “Rent late again?” 

You managed a tiny laugh, “Not exactly. Can I have two of the usuals, please?” 

Jun tilted his head, smiling softly at you. “Anything for you,” he bowed slightly, which made you shift your feet uncomfortably as you reached for your money. “Oh, no- it’s on the house!” 

“Why?” You gave him a curious look. “I have money.” 

“The gentleman in the corner paid for everyone tonight,” Jun clapped his hands together, grinning. You looked over your shoulder to see a young-looking man in a booth with a skinnier man, both of them laughing and clinking their drinks together. 

You froze. 

Jackson and BamBam liked Jun’s too, but you didn’t think they’d be here that night. Luckily for you, neither of them had noticed your entry, but they looked up the minute you did at them. Quickly you averted your gaze and cleared your throat. 

“Can I have those to-go?” You placed the money on the table for Jun to take, to which he frowned, but took anyway. You knew it was a mistake to walk around with your hood down. You quickly raised it over your head again, shadowing the bruises and split-lip, taking a seat in the corner. 

Of course though, the second you did, you were immediately preyed upon. 

“Hey, pretty lady,” a slurred voice greeted you with a smile. You stood up quickly and looked at him, to which he backed up a bit in surprise at your face. 

“Talk to me again and I’ll fucking kill you,” you spat, before spinning around and sitting in your seat again. Across the room, you didn’t notice Jackson and BamBam furiously texting someone on their phone, and then the door to bar pulled open. You looked up, face hidden by your hoodie. 

The person who entered made bile rise up in your throat. 

He was tall, taller than you were, with broad shoulders and a fit frame. His long legs were shadowed in black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt tucked into those, and an embroidered jacket hung loosely from his arms. His hair was a mess and there were bags under his eyes. He looked skinnier than you last remembered him being. But then again, you were sure you looked different, too. 

Kim Yugyeom walked over to where Jackson and BamBam sat, a bit glum as he slid into the booth with his friends. You watched in shock as the two foreigners quickly told something to Yugyeom before motioning to you in the corner. 

You gulped. Before he could have a chance to speak to you, you jumped to your feet. “Never mind, Jun!” You yelled back at the owner before rushing for the door. 

“Y/N?” Came a weak, confused voice. 

You froze at the sound of it. You closed your eyes (the other one having healed a while ago) and swallowed, knowing you’d have to face him soon, anyway. It’d only been a week but the tabloids hadn’t ended their tirade of his mystery girl, which only hurt you even more. Your stomach ached since you hadn’t ate since the day before, and you felt as if you might pass out at any second. 

Slowly, you turned around to look at him, head down. Yugyeom’s fingers reached out to lift your chin up but you swatted them away quickly. “Don’t touch me,” you whispered furiously, glaring up at him. 

Yugyeom’s blood ran cold. He stared down at you, eyes wide and full of shock. You were sure you didn’t look like a dimepiece, anyhow. One of your eyes was caked in makeup to hide the bruising, but in these lights it was easy to tell what had happened. Your lip was split and still slightly bloodied, your right jaw bruised and slightly swollen. If he could see the rest of you- the rest of you that was covered in bruises and cuts. 

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Yugyeom breathed, one hand reaching up to cover his mouth in surprise. His eyes began to water, his bottom lip trembling and his fingers shaking. “Why?” He whimpered. He reached out to pull you into his chest but you shoved him back. 

“I said don’t touch me,” you repeated angrily. 

Another voice joined the two of you, “He harassing you, pretty lady?” 

You looked over at the drunken, way-older man staring down at you predatorily. You made to tell him to fuck off, but Yugyeom’s glassy eyes hardened before yours could. “Fuck off, you drunk,” Yugyeom spat. Your eyes grew wide. Yugyeom wasn’t like that- he wasn’t confrontational, unless of course, it involved you or his members. 

The man raised an eyebrow, “You better watch your fuckin-” 

You didn’t have a chance to speak for yourself before Yugyeom’s fist retracted, his knuckles slamming against the side of the man’s jaw. He stumbled backwards into the wall and hit the floor, eyes rolled back into his head. On the other hand, Yugyeom looked furious, glaring at the rest of his friends, as if daring them to do something. 

“You hit girls, too?” Another drunk jumped in, his eyes darting to you. Yugyeom looked at you quickly. His entire gaze softened. 

“Who did that to you?” Yugyeom whispered. His hand reached out to caress your face and you were too shocked to object. He glanced backwards at the drunks before looking at you. “Let’s talk somewhere else.” 

“Or, never,” you backed up from him and hurried out the door. You weren’t far before he yelled at you. 

“You can’t keep running, Y/N!” He shouted, making your steps falter. “You ran from your parents, you ran from your home, and now you’re running from me! I thought we were different, Y/N!” 

You stopped in place, making Yugyeom freeze. You slowed, spinning around to face him. “You don’t get to say that,” you growled, your eyes becoming glassy. You attempted to blink back the tears, but it was almost impossible. “You cheated on me, Yugyeom. Not the other way around.” 

“You didn’t let me explain!” Yugyeom shouted back, stepping towards you. You flinched, stepping backwards. 

“Explain what?” Your voice cracked, a lone tear sliding its way down your bruised cheek. “That you found someone better than me? Someone prettier, someone thinner, someone with talent? You don’t have to explain that, Kim Yugyeom, because I understand. You could never love someone like me.” 

Yugyeom rushed towards you before you could back away. “Why do you always say shit like that?” He demanded brokenly, his eyes hurt and wide in pain. “She tricked me, jagiya. She told me you needed me- that you sent her to come get me, and then she kissed me in the gardens because there were cameras, jagiya.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you shook your head, sniffling and wiping at your tears furiously. 

“Would you listen to me?” Yugyeom took your hands into his. Another tear left his eye at the sight of your fingers- things that were so delicate, no matter the callouses on them. Things he used to hold, things you used to run through his hair- they were bruised and bloodied, scabbed over and swollen. A choked sob escaped his throat. “I love you so, so much. That girl- you have to believe me, okay?” 

“Why?” You looked up at him. The sheer amount of pain in your eyes made his stomach flip with guilt. “Why should I?” 

“You’ve spent your whole life running from people,” Yugyeom whispered, brushing his fingers over your ear. “I know your favorite color is white, and that you hate when I tell you it’s a shade, not a color. I know your favorite food is anything that has meat in it. I know you like to sleep on your left side, and that you like it when I run my fingers over your back until you fall asleep. You eat your food one by one, and you don’t like it to touch either. Your favorite movie is Zombieland and your favorite song is anything I sing you.” 

Your eyes watered over, spilling freely down your cheeks and gathering tiny little dots on the cement at your feet. 

“I know you better than your parents. I know you think you’re worth nothing, so it’s easy to believe that I cheated on you, but jagiya- I-I would never. You mean the world to me. You’re my everything,” he whispered the last part, his voice cracking at the end. “I know it’s hard for you to believe me. I know you’ve spent your life running from people and from things, but I don’t want you to run from me. You love me, don’t you?” 

You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. You remembered the first time he said those words to you, and you remembered how you’d ran out on him, only for him to find you later and tell you that it was okay if you couldn’t say it back yet. You remembered the first time the two of you made love and how he made sure you were okay every second of it, how he held you afterwards and whispered how much he loved everything about you in your ear. 

“I love you so much,” you finally whispered. 

Yugyeom’s eyes lit up and he pulled you into his chest, holding you there softly. You sobbed into his shirt, bunched up in your bloodied fingers. “It’s okay,” he said in your ear, rocking you back in forth. “It’s okay, princess. I’m here. I’m not going to leave you. Ever.” 

“How can you promise that?” You looked up at him, sniffling. 

“Because my love for you,” Yugyeom kissed your forehead softly, then your bruised eye, then your split lip, “is eternal. No one else is right for me, but you.” 

You swallowed. “How can you be sure?” 

Yugyeom kissed your lips again, holding your bruised jaw hesitantly. “Because when I kiss you, Y/N,” he kissed you again, smiling, “there’s no other feeling in the world like it.” 

You were going to ask how he knew- how he can be sure that he’d never leave you, but he beat you to it. 

“Marry me,” he suddenly said, eyes wide in realization. “Marry me, so I can prove that I’ll never leave you.” 

Your eyes grew wider than the moon that was shining on the two of you, your swollen lips parting in disbelief. “Yug-” 

“Stop running,” Yugyeom cupped your face, looking down at you lovingly. “Stop running. Marry me, and we’ll run together- anywhere, okay?” 

You waited until your bruises faded from your skin, until you could walk normally. Yugyeom was there every step of the way, caressing your back and holding your hair and telling you that he loved you no matter what. He took care of you more than anyone in the world ever had. He made you soup when you were sick, and held your hand across the world. He cried when you walked down the aisle, a hand cupped over his mouth and tears streaming down his face. He cried when you told him you were pregnant, and he cried when you gave birth. He held your hand every step of the way, no matter if your fingers were bruised anymore. 

And you didn’t have to run anymore. 

If you did, he’d run with you. 


Word Count: 1550

A/N: Let me know how you like it. This is just something that I thought up. I’m planning on this becoming a series but it depends if you guys like it. Also let me know if you want to be tagged. 

The first thing that Bucky noticed about you was how to effected the people around you. When you walked into a room you unknowingly demanded respect from everyone in the room. He didn’t know who you were, he thought that you were high on the paygrade. When he found out that you were avenger he was curious about you. You clearly were good, given the way people treated you. The next thing he noticed about you was how quiet you are. You only speak when spoken to first and you were always serious, never joking around or smiling. In fact Bucky was sure he had never seen you smile. This didn’t stop Bucky from being intrigued by you. You were beautiful without even trying. He noticed a scar on your left eyebrow and on the back of your right hand. Bucky noticed everything he could about you, though he saw you a few times a week. You only went on missions by yourself and trained by yourself. He noticed you didn’t like big groups. He noticed that you would leave when all the avengers were together. He often found you by yourself in a chair reading or just staring outside on one of the balconies.  

One day, Bucky watched you leave the living room. He turned to Steve and asked “So what is her deal? Does she not like us or something?”

Steve looks down at his hands and sighed, with a guilty look on his face. “No. She just has been through alot and prefers to keep her distance. She used to not be like this. She was actually one of the funniest people I know.”

“What happened?” Curiosity go the best of Bucky.

“Well she came from a relatively normal home. Had two parents, one was a teacher and the other one was a professor at some college, and a brother and a sister. Y/N was however was not normal. She has abilities, clearly that’s why she is a avenger. She is an elemental which means she has the power over the elements. She is very powerful and extremely good at her job. Fury took notice of her and offered her a position at SHIELD before the avengers came together. She climbed through the ranks effortlessly and when I came out the ice and started working for SHIELD after New York, we went on many missions together and became quite close. Our last mission together was very personal for Y/N. This was after Hydra came out hiding and she was on their radar. They kidnaped her whole family and we went after them, but when we got there it was a trap. There was only supposed to be 50 soldiers at the base, but there was hundreds. In the middle of fighting I was knocked unconscious. I woke up in the infirmary here to find out she fought them all and carried me back to the quinjet, that was 15 miles away from the base. Now I said before that Y/N is incredibly powerful, however, there are limits to her abilities and when those became useless she used her hand to hand skills, which rival those of Natasha. She took on every soldier there, only to find the bodies of her family. When I woke they told me that she was shot twice, in the shoulder and in the thigh. They found her collapsed in a pool of her own blood. She may have saved my life, but she lost everything that day.”

When Steve finally finished the story there were tears in his eyes. You and him were very close and that day you family didn’t just die. You did too. You were once so full of life and joy. You sang everywhere you went and you had the most beautiful voice. He felt like he let you down. He missed you even though you were right there.

You walked out of the living room without a word, back to your room. You need to go workout and knew that they were getting ready to eat dinner, so you put on your clothes and made your way down to the training room. You wrapped your hands and started with the first punching bag of the night. Soon enough all the rage and grief starts to flood out of you. The bag starts to char because with the release of your emotions makes you lose your grip on your abilities, which causes you to throw very heated punches. Your next punch lit the bag on fire. You really need to talk to Tony about fireproofing these things. This is like the 7th bag this week and it’s only Wednesday. You think as you put out the fire and put the second bag up. Starting again, an hour goes by before you light the next one ablaze. Giving up on the punching bag you move up on to weights. You are the only one in the training center, which is just the way you like it. You start with cleans and move on to squats. You are strong and fast. Not at the level of Steve and Bucky but you held your own. You have the body of an olympic swimmer, tall and lean. You usually spend most of your time in the pool because it’s the only way to clear your head. Something about the water just calms you.

You finish your work out and realized how exhausted you were. You made your way to the kitchen, picking over the only box leftovers from dinner. Everyone usually ate together but you like to eat by yourself. Being around everyone reminded you of you family and it hurt to much to think about them still, even though it has been years. You heard someone walk into the kitchen and turn to see who it is. It’s bucky. You liked Bucky. He was quiet like you. Didn’t really talk to anyone besides Steve, and had the most beautiful blue eyes. He had a comfortable presence about him that you appreciated, and he didn’t look at you like you had 2 heads like everyone else around here does since that day. You looked back down at your food and continued to eat. He opened the fridge in search of the leftovers that were currently in front of you because he also missed dinner.

“Are those tonight’s leftovers?” he asked looking at the plate.

“Ya.” You replied. “Do you want to share?”

“Sure.” he said turning and grabbing a fork. You guys began eating in a comfortable silence till Bucky decided to break it. “What were you reading earlier today? I saw you up at the balcony and I’m curious.”

You stop mid-chew to look at him. You scoff and feel the corners of your mouth twitch up. You swallowed what was in your mouth and replied, “Umm, it was Looking for Alaska by John Green.”

“Do you like it?” he ask.

“Ya, it’s pretty good.” you say.

“What is it about?” he questions.

“Um, it’s about this kid who decides to go to boarding school and meets some really cool people that pull a bunch of pranks.” you say. This is probably the longest conversation that you have had besides missions briefings that you have had in years. There is just something about Bucky that made you want to open up to him.

“Cool. I’m not a big reader but every now and then something grabs my attention.” he says.

“Hmmm.” you reply. You continue to eat your food.

After a few more minutes of quiet eating Bucky asks “So what are you doing tonight?”

This time you turn and look at him, “Why do you care? You have never talked to me before? What’s so different now?” You stare at him evenly, no emotion on you face.

He looked shocked at your questioning “I don’t know, doll. Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well don’t.” you spit back throwing your fork into the sink, walking out of the kitchen leaving Bucky to himself.

You make your way down the hall trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from that nickname he used. Questions bubbling all in your mind. Why was he talking to you? Doesn’t he know who you are? How is he so comfortable around you? No one talked to you. They were all to scared. The only time they talked to you is when it was fro missions, and that was usually mumbled suggestions and down cast eyes.

You get why they are all scared. They all heard the stories. Hell if you were them you probably be the same way. At first it hurt your feelings, but now you are used to it.

You get in the shower, rubbing out your muscles and shaving your legs. Trying to get the thoughts of Bucky out of your head. You didn’t kid yourself. Someone like Bucky doesn’t need someone like you fucking up his life. You shut off the water and put on some sweats and an old t-shirt and crawl into bed. You pick out a playlist to help you sleep. You were feeling some classical music tonight. As the sound of the cello softly fills the room, unconsciousness slowly starts to consume.  

Yes, Officer

Title: Yes, Officer
Genre: Romance/Comfort
Characters: Toph, Sokka
Summary: Bro night with the Blind Bandit and Captain Boomerang takes an unexpected turn. “You didn’t forget about tonight’s Pro-Bending match, did you?“

Another long day on the job had Toph cursing and groaning on her way in the front door of her house. She dropped her bag in the middle of the hall and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. It wasn’t until she waddled toward the living room that Toph picked up on the steady heartbeat coming from the sofa on the far end of the room. A few seconds of vibrations told her who it was.

“What the hell are you doing here, Meathead?” she demanded, one hand landing on her swollen belly while the other found her hip. She directed her best glare in his general direction. Toph wasn’t always perfectly on target, but she had gotten pretty good at estimating where people’s faces were situated in reference to their heartbeats. She was pretty confident that her irritation was being transmitted correctly.

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Daddy’s Little Angel

“I’m not adorable—I’m manly as hell.”

Featuring: Baekhyun, You

Warnings: light swearing, usage of “Daddy” (nonsexual)

Written by: Admin V

Ah, that’s my good girl!”

You chewed happily on the piece of meat that Baekhyun had fed you, smiling. It was dinner time—one of your most favorite times to spend with the love of your life. The day was over. It was time to rest.

Propping your elbows onto the dining table, you swallowed, then frowned. Baekhyun sat across from you, his white t-shirt hanging off of his frame.

“Is something bothering you, baby?” he asked. He set his chopsticks down, looked up at you. Cocked his head to the side, those brown eyes so deep and caring, the way that they always were.

You licked your lips, tasting the leftover spice from the beef. “Daddy, do you not like the food I made for you? Is it bad?”

“What, no! Of course not, baby,” he immediately soothed, shocked that you would ever ask him that. Reaching across the table, he smoothed a flyaway from your hair. “Daddy would never do such a thing.”

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Love hurts

Dakota’s POV

Everyday, almost as if it were a routine, I’d wake up to Jamie squeezing and kissing me from beneath the covers. He’d always squeal ‘good-mornings’ and ‘wake ups’ repeatedly since he usually have the most energy at sunrise. He’d always peck kisses behind my left ear, knowing that I was ticklish and giving my entire body goosebumps. I would break out in giggles every time and he would love it. A somewhat warming feeling would come out of it, feeling as if I were the most beautiful woman in the world waking up with him until something echoed a lack of life. Every morning recently, Jamie would for sure still wake up with me. In fact, right by my side, muscular arms wrapped around my petite frame, muffled snores pulsating against my neck. They wouldn’t really be considered much of a snore though, more of a heavy breathing. But something didn’t seem the same. We both could gossip for hours like best friends throughout the whole morning unless I had to be somewhere of course, but even then, he’d beg for me to stay in bed. There was almost silence now, which I tried my best to ignore. But sure, we would catch up about each other’s day, but he’d never be focused and his mind would be set somewhere else, almost like he wasn’t there. Rolling my body to one side, I groaned as I peaked through the blinds, nothing but clouds blanketing the sky. No beams of sunlight, which was rare. Recently, the weather had been roasting me. I pushed the white covers from my body, trembling at the cold air surfacing my delicate skin before I climb out of bed. Jamie wasn’t laid between the sheets, begging ‘5 more minutes babe.’ I wasn’t expecting it though. He had been out late with his mates. Grabbing a robe, wrapping it around my body, away from the cold, I made my way downstairs. “Hey, good morning.” I greeted, a refreshed smile on my face as I approached Jamie. I rose my eyebrows, finding him slouched over the kitchen table whilst eating leftover pizza I had foiled up from last night. Turning his head, a cold look appeared on Jamie’s face, I could see his tired and red eyes almost begging for attention. I shook my head down and ignored, it was probably nothing but a late guys night. I walked to the fridge, grabbing a clear glass and pouring fresh orange juice into it, no longer in Jamie’s gaze. ‘’Hi.’’ He muttered lowly beneath his breath, pale blue eyes meeting mine as he turned his head again, finding myself standing behind him, one hand softly kneading his shoulder. He’d be surprised at how much it helps with stress. ‘’Dakota, stop.’’ He spoke bluntly. “Is everything okay? How come you weren’t home until so late?” I questioned, glancing at Jamie and admiring his features as I did. I mean, he was just so beautiful and fetching and I’d fall in love with him even more every day. “Yeah. It was good and I just got caught up in the pub, it was nothing.” He sighed with a shrug as his back rested against the chair, my hands still sat on his broad shoulders. “Well are you up for grabbing some dinner later?” I asked, intertwining my fingers with his brown hair, twisting it around my fingers, something I’d do out of boredom. ‘’I booked a place, but we can reschedule.’’ 

“No it’s fine, we can go tonight.” He showed a smile before biting into another slice of Margarita pizza. By 8 O’clock, neither of us were waiting on each other and had arrived at the restaurant. I felt Jamie’s large hand press gently against my back, through the satin dress as we both entered, dim lights reflecting my face, a tanned orange colour. Regardless, the place looked good and extravagant. There was a massive fire place close to the front entrance with huge sofas and a grand piano, which Jamie would normally beg to play like a child. Watching as he pulled out my seat, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before sitting down. “Thanks,” I bit my bottom lip, him tucking my chair in after, yet to show his puppy smile again. His eyes focused more on the ground as he took the seat across from me, clearing his throat. Once seated, there were no words spoken for moments, but we would both meet each other’s gaze every now and then. ‘’So, how’s everything going?’’ I asked, cracking the seconds of discomforting silence. I rested one hand on the wooden surface of the table whilst the other poured two glasses of water, Jamie would probably order a different drink later. He always did. I knew him too well. “Yeah it’s fine,” He responded, nodding, not an expressive tone in his voice making me sigh again. I thought this whole dinner, meal-date would change things, or at least bring us closer together than we’ve been lately. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I glanced across to Jamie, his eyes were yet to look at me but still looked heavy. I felt bad, maybe he was just tired, but that never stopped him before from being affectionate and loving. We both ate in silence, occasionally turning heads as another couple would burst out with laughter, both looking back at each other and quietly ignoring. Everyone’s conversations but ours filled the room. I sighed, “James.’’ Adjusting my seat, I humped to the edge, leaning over the wooden table. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” I cleared the silence, but he was still in another world. He chewed his lips together, making them look stick thin as he looked at the freshly cut flowers, center table. “Jamie.” I repeated, scratching two of my nails together, chipping at the red colour. ‘’What?” He hummed, snapping out of his daydream as his eyes grew slightly bigger, shaping a wide oval. “So, what’s going on?” I began, repeating myself another time, before sipping on some water to moisten my throat. I hated to admit but pieces of me had the sick feeling to my stomach that his love for him had changed over the last month. Nothing was the same. Or maybe we were just drifting apart. Either way, I couldn’t fight it anymore or tell myself it was okay, or that it’ll blow over by next week because clearly it won’t. Because clearly, I was too in love. “Come on, you’re pushing me to a side,” I muttered, swinging my head low, strands of straightened hair dropping to my face. “Dakota,” Jamie let out a sigh as he brushed his large hand across the back of his neck. I gathered he did that when he was nervous, it was just something I’d catch on to. Gulping on the glass of water, he placed his silver fork down, resting it on the china plate. “If you’re not going to say much then I will,” I huffed, my two almost sweating hands gripping around the edge of my seat, nervous. “I just feel like slowly, I don’t know, we’re growing apart.” I stated, Jamie immediately raising his eyebrows and looking up from his hands, wrinkles forming on his forehead. Jamie had no indication of anything until I said those words. I waited for a response, my eyes wandering back around the room, noticing the smallest details like the tiny painted art work pinned to the walls. “I don’t understand.” He spoke in an undertone. I looked down and exhaled, “Honestly, me neither. But this, all of a sudden, doesn’t seem right.” Placing my hand on top of Jamie’s, resting them both on the table, I fought to look at him in the eye again. “You can’t do that Jamie. You can’t just push me to a side like that, to suddenly pay attention to me once I tell you it’s not working.” I continued, saying the words I’d never thought I’d say. “But I love you, I  wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t love you.” He began to stutter on his words, running hand after hand through his hair. Another thing he’d do out of nerves. “We can work this out.” 

“Then look at me in the eye.” I started, my heart pulsating through my chest as I looked right at Jamie now; something I’d regret later when tears are running down my face. And tell me that you’re in love with me, that you’re truly in love with me and that you want to spend the rest of your life with me.” Expecting an immediate response, I rested my chin in the palm of my hand, watching as Jamie chewed his bottom lip, tears threatening to spill from his waterline. He scanned my eyes, struggling to look right into them as he usually would. His lips quivered, but no words came out, just as if he couldn’t say anything. “I’m sorry.” He cried with a shaky breath, looking beneath his lashes, saying something which I refused to believe at first thought. “Okay, I’m gonna go.” I held a weak guard against my tears. We were both already getting weird looks as it was, let alone if the both of us began to cry. Grabbing my black coat from behind the seat, I stood up and walked away, heels clicking against the wooden surfaced floor.


Not my gif♥

word count: 1045

Marvel school au

Your shoes beat against the concrete, as you struggled to carry your bag and suitcase to the main building. When you saw the words, Lee’s Academy for the Exceptionally Advance, you knew you had finally made it to the front office. You had managed to navigate yourself from your parking lot to the doors without colliding into one of the many students on the bustling campus, but your next challenge was to make it through the doors with dropping your belongings.

“Do you need help with those?” someone asked.

Your eyes searched for who had offered to help; they fell onto a girl, whose blue skin stood out proudly, even among her crimson hair.

“Yes, please.” You quickly looked at your bags after replying and tried so hard not to stare. She effortlessly grabbed two of your bags whilst pulling the door open. You lead her to the front office, and after she placed them on the floor near the chairs, she left before you could thank her.

The fact that you had missed orientation caused you to be three steps behind everyone else, so you resorted to asking for aid.

“Where do I go for my dorm?”

“Here’s the list,” you were given a clipboard filled with names and numbers, “it goes by last name.”

After more navigating, this time with a service cart provided by the office, you were in front of dorm. You gingerly opened the door, wondering who was going to be on the other side, but that caution was wasted when you found out that your dorm was empty. The living room was pre-furnished, but nothing too special. You saw the kitchen had a simple fridge and an oven.

Before you good head to your room, you remembered that you had a phone call to make. You frantically rummaged through your bags trying to find your phone. In the middle of through your bag of under garments, you were startled when your door flew open. At the door was a dark skinned girl, whose most eye-catching quality was the storm of white hair that stood upward in a mohawk. You saw her staring at something in your hand with confusion, and you followed her perplexed gaze and saw your bra in one hand. You quickly shoved it in your bag and cleared your throat.

“Um…I’m Ororo.”

“Y/n, sorry about that.” I accepted her handshake.

“It’s cool.” she smiled. After the introductions, there was an unsettling silence, but it was clear that Ororo was the one with the confidence.

“What class did they put you in?” she asked.

“Fury, Homeland Dissertation and Discourse. You?”

“Lehnsherr, Mutant Comprehension.”

“Wait, are you a mutant?” she nodded. “Wow, that’s really cool.”

The conversation went like that for a while. You bounced from one topic into another while you were unpacking. After you unpacked enough for the week, you pushed your leftover bags in the corner (you planned to unpack your research books later).

“I guess we better get ready for the welcoming party.” Ororo said while looking at the time on her phone.

“Oh, I almost forgot about that.”

“Is it too much to ask you if we can stick together at the party? I only know a handful of people at this school.”

“Sure! No problem, it’s not like I know anyone here.” You bitterly chuckled.

You found your phone (it was in your back pocket the whole time), and after an emotional phone call and a brisk shower, you were out of your room and following Ororo out of the dorm and to the gym. The welcoming party, a concept thought by the school to force even the most antisocial of teens to try and mingle.

The gym floor was covered in balloons. The opposite side of the building had a long table cover in a thin colorful cloth, and coated with snacks and drinks. A good amount of students were already on the dance floor dancing and mingling, but there was still more coming.

“Shoot,” Ororo said was looked through her phone. “He said he’s outside.” She looked back up and sighed. “I guess we gotta go back outside.”

“Actually, Ororo. I need to use the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here though.”

“Okay, cool.”

Ororo turned around and disappeared into the current of students trying to come in. You scanned for any sign of a bathroom, soon you found in a hallway with two facing doors. You walked through the door and quickly entered a stall. You first checked to see if Mother Nature hadn’t decided to ruin your fun by sending you the red sea, but after the sigh of relief you had no more distractions. You did a few touch ups with your compact in fear of looking unpresentable to Ororo’s friend. You didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot already.

“You can do this.” You said to yourself. Once you were back in the gym, you witnessed the number of students tripled to what you had left it to be. Going right back to where you agreed to meet Ororo was all you could do. You stood there waiting. You stood there alone, hoping that Ororo would appear before you with someone alongside her. When you saw that more than 15 minutes had passed, you gave up and starting walking toward the punch bowl.

You grabbed a few snacks and popped them in your mouth. You grabbed a cup of the only thing you could physically hold down, and while turning you almost bumped into someone walking passed you. You were about to thank the heavens when you stopped inches away from the stranger’s jacket but took back the thanks when a good amount of droplets fell because of your sudden stop. Black converses were decorated with unpleasant spots.

“Oh my-I’m so sorry!”

You looked up and saw a tall hooded boy, whose face you couldn’t make out, but his long bangs were peaking out of his hood. You could have sworn you saw a glint of metal as he shoved his hands back in his hoodie pouch. He completely ignored you and kept walking.

“Don’t mind him.” Your eyes met with a girl with striking red hair. You couldn’t but admire her looks, because she was stunning. “He’s not much of a talker.”


This is a new series I’m doing, hope you like it. This has been on my mind for a while. Anyway…did you spot who is in it so far?


Stress (Request)

could you write a blurb where harry’s super stressed maybe on the verge of sick and he comes home all flustered and you calm him down give him a massage, run a bath or whatever just cute fluffy things like that


You knew that Harry was overworking himself. You could tell by the fact that he came home every day from the studio more tired than the day before. The time he would spend with you in the evenings was becoming less and less quality and more of an obligation until you would finally get frustrated and send him to bed. He was also getting a lot shorter with you over things that really weren’t that big of a deal. Complaining that you hadn’t bought groceries that day, or why he had no clean shirts left in his dresser.  He would snap at you for asking simple questions and heaven forbid if you ever asked him how much he got done that day.

You knew this album was important to him, but it wasn’t worth losing your Harry over. And it was time for things to change. Your final straw came when Harry didn’t get home until nearly midnight, and all you heard was him shuffling around in the kitchen and grunting every so often. You made your way downstairs and watched him from the doorway as he rummaged through cupboards.

“What are you looking for?”

“Food.” He replied, curtly. “And something for this headache; don’t we have any Aspirin?”

“It’s probably in the bathroom. Want me to get it?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

He walked past you briskly, not even stopping to give you a kiss or a proper hello, and started searching the bathroom for the Aspirin. You got him a glass of water and took it to him.

“Here.” You said, passing him the glass as he poured two pills into his hand.

He took it from you and downed the pills while taking a sip of water.

“Do you want me to heat up some dinner for you?” You asked. “There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

“I can get it for you, I don’t mind.”

“I said, it’s fine!” He snapped. “Go back to bed.”

His tone stung. Harry didn’t snap at anyone like that very often, let alone you. It was late enough and you were tired enough that his words caused tears to start forming in your eyes, but you blinked them back and walked away from the bathroom. When you crawled back into bed, you rolled on your side away from the door so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in.  You were asleep before he came to bed.

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Ploughman’s Pie, from Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett!

The very second I read about this pie, I had a mighty hankering to make it. A meat pie with cheese and pickled onions? A complete and balanced meal, in my opinion! Even Vetinari took a slice, which is quite a testament for a man who juggles intrigues, assassins, and possibly more food tasters than we’d ever hear about.

Here’s Glenda Sugarbean, the inventress of the pie, and her secret behind the crispy onion layer:

‘Yes. I’ve helped lots of people and I invented the Ploughman’s Pie.’

'Did the people you helped want to be helped?’

'What? Yes, they came and asked.’

'Good. And the Ploughman’s Pie?’

Glenda told her.

'Ah, you must be the cook at Unseen University,’ said the woman. 'Which means that you have access to rather more than the average cook and, therefore, I would deduce that to keep the pickled onions crisp in the pie you put them in a cold room at very nearly freezing point for some time immediately before baking, possibly wrapping them in cheese for the sake of temporary insulation, and, if you have assembled your pie correctly and paid attention to temperatures, I think that would do the trick.’ She paused. 'Hello?’

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Words: 2526

He wasn’t answering. You’d known he wouldn’t, he was working - but you figured it couldn’t hurt to try. You didn’t bother leaving a message. You’d pressed to dial before you’d even begun to think about what you might actually tell him about all of this, so you just followed up the empty call with a quick text:

Nevermind. Speak later. xx

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