and show their coffee or tea cups

The Art of Study Breaks

You know when you’re studying non-stop, working really hard… but eventually, you start feeling less productive? I’ve come to realize that in such cases it’s good, even necessary to take a study break. So here’s how to master them!

How much time?

15-20 minutes: just enough time for you to relax a little, but not so much that you fall completely out of your game.

How frequently?

Honestly, this totally depends on what you’re studying, how hard it is etc, but normally I’ll take a study break every hour and a half.

What do you do during them?

  • Go to the bathroom. Wash your face, remove your makeup, go to the toilet if you need to.
  • Grab some food & water. Sometimes, studying can make you hungry, and water’s always good to have around. I’d tell you to opt for something healthy when it comes to food, but more often than not I’ll choose to eat Oreos, biscuits or some other sweets.
  • Take a nap. This is perhaps the most straightforward one; just lie down for a few minutes. Make sure you’ve set an alarm clock though, or else you will oversleep. Trust me; it’s happened before.
  • Clean up your study space. I have quite a big desk, but sometimes it can feel like the random items of stationery, pieces of paper, textbooks and other random crap is just taking over everything. I swear, it really helps if you clean up the things around you!
  •  Go online. I’m a little reluctant to recommend this because I know how hard it is to stop afterwards, but if you consciously limit yourself and know that you’ll stop after 15-20 minutes, then watching a few YouTube videos, going on tumblr or talking to friends of Facebook can be a great way to relax.
  • Make yourself a tea. Or coffee – but personally I’m more of a tea person during studying. I’ll make myself a nice cup of black tea with lemon and sugar, and afterwards, everything just goes better.
  • Watch an episode of a TV show/anime. These are slightly longer, but are a great way to take your mind off whatever you’re studying. I’d recommend watching something which is short (ie. not a full, hour-long episode of Game of Thrones) – like Friends, HIMYM or Family Guy. These are great because the shows are pretty episodic, you won’t feel inclined to keep watching more and more. As for anime, don’t pick one where you know you won’t be able to stop after one episode. Instead, I’d recommend something like Hetalia (hilarious; also great if you’re studying Geo or History), Gintama (pure gold), Samurai Champloo (the perfect combination of fun and deep).

And so there you have it: the art of taking a study break. Good luck, everyone!

I’ve Been Reading  Instruction For American Servicemen In Britain 1942

So Instruction For American Servicemen In Britain 1942 is a reproduced typescript of what was giving to men going over to Britain to help ease friction with the populace. And I thought I would share my favorite parts of the text.

You will naturally be interested in getting to know your opposite member, the British solider, the “Tommy" you have read and hear about. 

BRITISH RESERVE, NOT UNFRIENDLY. You defeat enemy propaganda not by denying that differences exist but by admitting them openly and then trying to understand them. For British are often more reserved in conduct than we. On a small island where forty-five million, each man learns to guard his privacy carefully- and is equally careful not to invade another man’s privacy.

So if Britons sit in trains or buses without striking up a conversation with you, it doesn’t mean they are being and unfriendly. Probably they are paying more attention to you than you think. But they don’t speak to you because they don’t want to intrusive or rude.

Another difference.The British have phrases and colloquialisms of their own that may sound funny to you. You can make just as many boners in their eyes. 

DON’T BE A SHOWOFF. The Britsh dislike bragging and showing off. American wages and American soldier’s pay are the highest in the world. (This line about American pay and how you should not flaunt it is said so many times in this book that it’s hilarious.) 

THE BRITISH ARE TOUGH. Don’t be misled by the British tendency to be soft-spoken and polite. If they need to be, they can be plenty tough. The English language didn’t spread across the ocean and over the mountains and jungles and swamps of the world because these people were painty-waists.

You won’t being able to tell the British much about ‘taking it.’ They are not particularly interested in taking it anymore. They are far more interested in getting together in solid friendship with us. So that we can all start dishing it out to Hitler

THE BEST WAY to get on in Britain is very much the same as the best way to get on in America.  The same sort of courtesy and decency and friendliness that go over big in America will go over big in Britain. The British have seen a good many of Americans, and they like Americans. They will like your frankness as long as it is friendly. They will expect you to be generous. They are not given to back-slapping, and they are shy about showing their affections. But once they get to like you they make the best friends in the world

KEEP OUT OF ARGUMENTS. You can rub a Britisher the wrong way by telling him “We came over and won the last one.”

Once again, look, listen, and learn before you start telling the British how much better we do things. (This is the best line) 

The British don’t know how to make a good cup of coffee, and you don’t know how to make a good cup of tea it’s and even swap.

It’s always hilarious to me when people write headcanons where Katherine is hypercompetent and Davey is an unorganized mess because like… did we watch the same show? Katherine has a song that’s literally “My life is a mess” and Davey organizes a rally.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, Davey is a disaster in his own way. That boy lives and breathes on a schedule and has a breakdown if anything changes on him. But from a distance, “I need at least 24 hour notice for any change of plans” makes it look like you have your life together.
Anyway, my point is that Kath is the one who drinks 5 cups of black coffee instead of breakfast because she lost track of her deadlines and didn’t sleep the night before and Davey is the one who shows up twenty minutes early with tea in a thermos because the Starbucks she’s meeting him at doesn’t brew it the way he likes it.

Back to the Past (Hamilton x Reader) 1

Words: 1600+

Request: [screams] tIME TRAVEL AU WITH A. HAM (like bam u wake up one day in the 18th century) 👌 @ghcstflower

Warnings: Cursing, small mention of linnamonroll

A/N: making this into a series peeps! i didn’t think that a one-shot would suffice for what i wanted to write, soooooo, here it is!

Part 2

You grew up in Northeast New Jersey, so taking the bus back from NYC and your hometown wasn’t as hard as many might think. You soon heard about this new musical that many were anxious to see, and even your friends were constantly telling you about it. You ignored them, of course, because Broadway felt like an opera to you. Listening to showtunes and watching a show about one of the founding fathers just was not your cup of tea.

“Come on, Y/N! Just one song, please!” You friend begged, holding out their phone to you. You sighed, sipping on your coffee. It was freezing outside, below zero. You wore the biggest coat you owned, with giant earmuffs you found in one of your boxes.

You recently moved back to NJ, tired of the city life in Manhattan. Your family was right; living in the city was for people who were always on the go. Since you were the opposite of that, a writer, bumping into people in the streets every day, passersby’ stepping on your toes, was not the most entertaining thing you’ve done. Living there for four months was enough for you.

“No.” You grumbled, looking out the window of the local coffee shop. Your friend continued to whine about the stupid musical, and you eventually gave in, putting on the earbuds that she gave you. She played the opening song, called Alexander Hamilton. You smirked at the cheesiness, but pressed play.

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean…”

The song trailed on, and you bumped your head to the beat unconsciously, listening to the lyrics. You were surprised on how it sounded more like a mainstream song than a play. You didn’t notice your friend grinning at you, doing a little fist pump.

After the song finished, you gave her back her phone, sipping on your coffee once more. She looked at you, expecting a reaction. You shrugged, playing with your straw.

“It was alright.” Her eyes widened at your response. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying that you actually liked it, so denying it was the best way to go.

“Alright? It’s amazing, Y/N! Lin Manuel worked on this play for years, it’s anything but alright.” She mocked your tone, and you frowned at her.

“I told you, I don’t like Broadway shows. They’re boring and follow the same theme. I’m not interested.” She put her face in her hands, shaking her head slowly. You grinned at her actions, bringing your gaze back to the scene outside. Everyone seemed to be always on the move; headphones in and ignoring the world around them. You pitied them; they will never understand the world outside their screens.

“How am I friends with you?” She mumbled.

The rest of the time you were enjoying your break, she told you all the facts of the musical, even showing you some of the cast members. You couldn’t help but stare longer at the man who created the musical; Lin Manuel Miranda.

He was handsome, really handsome. You made a mental note of searching him up later, when your friend wasn’t bugging you about some tickets that she got. She convinced you to join her to see the musical, since your other friend cancelled on her last minute.

“If I go see this with you, would you stop trying to make me listen to the rest of the soundtrack?” You asked, throwing away the empty container into the recycling bin. She nodded quickly, to the point where you wondered if she gave herself whiplash.

“See you tomorrow!” She skipped away, trying to catch the next bus to bring her back home to Manhattan. You looked the train back to your town in NJ, taking less than twenty minutes to get there. You dragged yourself up the stairs, and into the apartment, closing the door behind you.

Later that night, you researched Lin Manuel Miranda. You were surprised that he wrote other plays, and won various awards for things that he created. It was a shock that he was single, his good looks and achievements made you think he’d be married and have children already. As you stalked this man online, your eyes began to close, blinking slowly. Before you fell asleep, you clicked on a link. Your eyes drooped closed, your face falling on your keyboard.

The sun shined in your face, causing you to blink quickly, glaring through your semi open lids. You groaned, rolling over. You reached for your phone, feeling a plant tangled in your fingers instead. You blinked, pushing yourself off the grass.



You were sleeping outside.

On the grass.

You looked around you, realizing that you were in an open field. It was eerily quiet, not even the birds chirping or the scurrying of squirrels climbing trees. A tent a few hundred feet away caught your attention, so you decided to approach it. You were still dressed in your sweats and tank top, what you thought you wore to bed. Before you reached the tent, a man came out, dressed in what seemed like a colonial uniform from the 1800s. His back was to you, but you noticed that his brown hair was long, pulled back into a hair tie. For some reason, your stomach churned staring at the man.

Did you stumble across some revolutionary reenactment? Is that why the man looked threatening, like he would shoot you at first glance? You searched your mind for some reason as to why you were outside, but the last thing you remembered was sitting next to your laptop.

You went against every instinct that told you not to go to the man, pushing your feet forward. He stopped moving, and you hesitated. He held his musket tight in his hand, quickly turning around to face you. He pointed his gun at your chest, an angry look on his face. You raised your hands quickly, shaking.

His eyes met yours, and he lowered his gun, confused. You gasped at the face in front of you.

It was Lin-Manuel Miranda. The famous guy you were researching last night.

“Miss, what are you doing out here?” He questioned, his hands still tight on the gun. You stumbled on your words, star-struck.

“Uh, I’m, um…” He put his gun in his holder on the side of him. His eyes were stuck on your body, the heat rising in his face. You wondered if he never saw a woman in a tank top before. “Excuse me, my eyes are up here.”

His eyes quickly made it back to your face, clearing his throat. “You did not answer my question, miss.” He replied, standing up straight.

“I’m sorry, but I have no clue why I’m out here. I woke up on this field. Maybe I sleep walk?” You said, lowering your arms. The leaves rustled on nearby trees, causing you to shiver, holding your arms tight against his chest. Lin realized how cold you were, and took off his overcoat, passing it to you. You thanked him, quickly throwing it on your body.

“Do you know where your home is? It must be close by.” You looked around, recognizing nothing in the vicinity. You turned back to Lin, and he had a small smile on his face.


“Well, I live in an apartment complex near 42nd street. I don’t remember seeing any open fields in the middle of the city.” You mumbled. He stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. He chuckled softly. “What?” You questioned.

“Are you okay, miss? I never heard of this forty-second street or an apartment complex? We’re in Virginia.” He stated, crossing his arms. “Were you sent by Laurens to play a joke on me? Wait, are you trying to seduce me?” He moved his hand back to the gun on his side.

This guy must be crazy. He lives in NYC, he grew up in Washington heights. For crying aloud, the Richard Rogers theater is right in the heart of Manhattan. You glanced around him, noticing more tents around. Wait, there was more than just ten.

There were hundreds.

You stared at Lin.

His outfit seemed quite authentic, to the dirt under his nails to the blood-stained pants. You don’t recall seeing the pictures online having red marks on the pants. He looked young, too, maybe in his early twenties. Not the man you recall seeing on the internet that was in his late thirties. He was staring at you as well, still cautious.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Alexander Hamilton.” He said simply, with a small bit of pride in his voice. You still fought off the idea that this may not be the time you were supposed to be in.

“Do you know who Elizabeth Schuyler is?” He shook his head, his foot tapping against the ground.

“What is a television set? A laptop?” He frowned.

“Are you telling me about a new weapon the British created? Who are you, miss?” He took out his gun from the position on his hip. “Who sent you here? And I’m not going to ask again.” You realized what’s going on.

“Tell me the year.” You said, your eyes widening. He didn’t say anything, his mouth in a straight line. “Tell me the year.” You repeated sternly. He smirked at you, rolling his eyes.

“1776.” He said, and you dropped onto the ground. He jumped back, confused.

1776. The year, it’s 1776.

What the hell is going on here?

How to set the tone for a good day

1.31.17 004

Had a three-hour school delay due to snow #blessed So here are a few tips on how to start off a good productive day! Hope you enjoy :) Also I’m not saying if you don’t do one of these your day is going to suck it’s just (hopefully) going to make it a bit better.

1. Wake up on time

Waking up on time gives you a (hopefully) stress-free start you don’t have to rush and that means less anxiety/worrying

2.  Have some coffee or tea

While getting ready make yourself a tea or coffee or anything caffeinated. You’ll get energy to start your day and for me it just makes the morning go by easier

3. Bring some caffeine on the go

When I get to school not having a tea or coffee first period really makes my day a bit worse. (I’m that addicted) Fun Fact; studies are showing people who drink lots of coffee (5 cups a day) are actually healthier [Sourse]

4. While getting ready listen to music or watch your favorite show

Every morning I watch Supernatural while putting on my makeup and it really helps get me up and out of bed giving me something small to look forward to

5. Have everything done the night before

Whether it be homework, work, picking out an outfit, having your bag packed do it the night before you do not want to be scrambling around and turn up late

6. Make your food ahead of time

If possible make your food the night before, this can also go towards breakfast while getting ready. I usually scoop out some cottage cheese in a bowl so I can just take it right out of the fridge and eat 

7. Stretch or do some yoga

If you can take five minutes just to stretch or do a few warm up exercises, get the blood flowing and feel more awake. You can even do it while your coffee is brewing

annoyed-tampon  asked:

1) How do you think the mercs wake up in the morning (or afternoon)? 2) Who snores the loudest?

(Oh nice, this is going to be fun! :D)

  • Scout: Usually one of the last to go to bed because he’s got too much energy left, but he’s one of the last to get up in the morning and then complains loudly about the ungodly early hour of the day. 

  • Soldier: Gets up the earliest and wakes everyone with his trumpet. Then he demands roll-calls which the others refuse to attend. So he plays with his raccoons instead.

  • Pyro: He is just always… there in the morning. Since he wears the mask 24/7 (at least as far as the others know) nobody really knows when Pyro actually sleeps and when he’s awake and just lost in his fantasy world. 

  • Demo: He usually sleeps for a long time and has to deal with horrible hangovers afterwards. He also sometimes wakes up in places he has no recollection of and the others have to look for him. In the morning he actually prefers a cup of tea.

  • Heavy: He’s pretty grumpy in the morning, but unless you’re really annoying he won’t break your spine immediately. His snoring is earthshaking and can be heard through the thickest walls. The others banished him to last room in a long corridor because they couldn’t sleep otherwise.

  • Engie: He likes sleeping in or enjoying a book before getting ready for the day, but he also doesn’t complain when he needs to get up early. He’s usually the one who prepares breakfast and offers coffee to the not-so-morning-people when they finally show up in the kitchen.

  • Medic: An absolute early bird. But also a night owl. It seems like he only sleeps, like, 4 hours a night and is working on his experiments the rest of the time. In the morning he’s eager, full of energy and in fantastic mood. The others hate him for it.

  • Sniper: The incarnation of a grumpy bum. Needs at least four cups of coffee before he starts functioning in the morning. He can sleep whenever and where ever he wants, yet he’s still always dozy - unless he’s on the battlefield.

  • Spy: He wakes up fairly early and then disappears to the bathroom for an hour to take a shower and to get dressed. When he enters the dining room for breakfast he is always booted and spurred and shows no sign of tiredness anymore. He likes tea more than coffee.

Title: Where I’m From (Back to the Future part 2(Reader x Peter Parker) 

Summary: The reader stays up late to try new things and finish Peter’s book reccomendation, Harry Potter.

Word Count: 1673

A/N: I love love love this series so much and hope you do, too. I really want to do a pt 3 I think, if you like? Lol! I hope you enjoy! 




Keep reading

inloveamateursatbest  asked:

i feel like this is hella specific while still being incredibly vague as a prompt but i believe in u: how about rob is upset about something (your choice) and trying his damnedest to hide it as usual, and liv cheers him up without even realising she's doing it? bonus points if aaron does notice but actually thinks that is the most effective way of cheering up rob <33

Liv raised an eyebrow as she looked at Robert hunched over on the couch, staring blankly at the television. It was late enough on Saturday morning, late enough for it to be strange that Robert was still in his pyjamas, the ridiculous Star Wars patterned trousers she’d bought him last Christmas paired with a hoodie of Aaron’s she was prone to stealing herself.

Spreading some more chocolate spread on the pile of toast she’d made herself, Liv picked up her cup of tea, padding across the kitchen to join Robert on the couch, plonking herself down beside him unceremoniously.

“Why are you watching the news?” Liv rolled her eyes, dumping her plate and mug down on the coffee table, half expecting Robert’s usual lecture about getting a coaster.

Robert shrugged, glancing at the television. “Wanted to see if the world had ended yet,” he quipped, gesturing at the news story about Trump.

Liv rolled her eyes, grabbing the control and turning Netflix on, flicking through the shows they’d been watching. She and Robert had been working their way through American Horror Story, Aaron not one bit interested in watching it with them.

“Have you been watching it without me?” Liv asked, suspicious. She could have sworn they’d only been on season three, but Netflix was telling her otherwise.

Robert shook his head. “I think we both fell asleep the other week when we were watching it,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat, the sleeves of Aaron’s hoodie tugged down around his wrists. “Bit gorey for this hour of the morning though, innit?”

Liv rolled her eyes. “What do you want to watch then?”

Robert reached across for the control, flicking through the options on Netflix before he came to an unfamiliar title. “Fawlty Towers,” he grinned, as if Liv should know what that was. “We used to watch this all the time growing up. It aired in like the 1970s, and they only ever made twelve episodes, but it’s the best.”

“The 70s? Jesus, Robert, how old are you?”

Robert rolled his eyes, shoving at her side. “I’m not that old, cheeky. It’s a classic, you’ll love it.”

Liv settled back on the couch, offering Robert a slice of toast before she spoke. “If I don’t, I’m making you watch all of Stranger Things from the beginning again.”

“For the third time?” Robert raised an eyebrow. First time around, the three of them had watched it together, and Liv had then roped Robert into watching it all again, knowing Aaron had little interest.

Liv grinned, confirming his suspicions. “For the third time.”

It was hours later when Aaron finally got home, and they’d managed to work their way through ten of the twelve episodes, half eaten pizza scattered across the coffee table, Liv sitting with an ice cream tub in hand.

Robert was as much of a slob as she was, when he wanted to be, ordering them in a feast from Dominos and trekking to David’s to get in some ice cream and crisps. It was the best kind of day, and Aaron arriving home only made it all the better.

“Hiya,” Aaron greeted, kicking his boots off at the door. “Have you two been lazing in here all day?” he inquired, padding across the room in his socks to drop a kiss to Robert’s chocolate covered lips.

Liv did her usual of pretending like they were disgusting her, but in actuality, she loved days like these, when nothing in the world had gone wrong, and the three of them were just happy.

A happy family.

“I need to piss,” Robert mumbled, Liv wrinkling her nose at his admission.

“Gross, go away.” Liv kicked at Robert with her slippered foot, Aaron snorting as his husband stumbled slightly, his knees cracking as he eased himself up off the couch. “Boys are disgusting.”

“Yeah, they are.” Aaron agreed, sitting down next to her on the couch, stealing a spoonful of the ice cream, reaching for some of the leftover pizza as he ate. “How’s he been today?”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “He’s been brilliant, we’ve been watching some old show he used to watch with his family all day,” she shrugged, wondering why Aaron would even need to ask.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “So he’s been fine, all day?”

“Yeah, why?”

Aaron tugged her close, pressing a kiss to the side of her forehead. “You’re a star, you know that?” he said, a bright smile on his face. He genuinely looked proud of her, as if she’d done something other than slob about in her pyjamas all day long, eating junk food and watching telly.

“Why are you being so weird?” Liv asked, not protesting the cuddle Aaron was giving her. He was her big brother, after all.

“It’s his mum’s anniversary today,” Aaron admitted, glancing toward the bathroom, checking if Robert was on his way back. “He finds it really tough, and I was worried about him being alone today.”

Liv didn’t know much about Robert and his family, just enough to know his parents were both dead, that he’d lost his mum in tragic circumstances - she’d been a good mum, as well, judging by how Robert would talk about her sometimes, briefly mentioning something she’d do, or cook, a soft, sad smile on his face.

“I didn’t know,” Liv said quietly, glancing at the paused screen. She’d been happy to indulge Robert and watch all of Fawlty Towers with him when she realised just how genuinely funny it was, Robert quoting every character as though he’d watched it a million times over himself.

“Did a stand up job either way,” Aaron beamed at her, munching his way through his slice of pizza.

Liv couldn’t help feeling a little bit proud of herself. Robert had been a rock for her for a long time now, sorting her problems and getting her place back at school, making sure she was getting on alright.

She’d never really thought about how she’d ever be able to help him, return the favour.

But she had, and without knowing, too.

Liv grinned, scooping out the last of the ice cream, the chocolatey mixture mostly melted now, chunks of cookie dough floating in the soupy dregs left in the tub. “Well, he’s my brother too, had to look out for him, didn’t I?”


Originally posted by fivesosgif

Requested: nope

Pairing: Hungover!Y/N x Stranger!Ashton

Series: Paid to be Popular - The Purpose of Love - Bittersweet Generation

Description: “I fell asleep on your couch after a party but you didn’t complain and made breakfast for the both of us” AU (yup that’s it, it’s adorable)

You were sure you were going to puke the minute you woke up. Without hesitating you grabbed the nearest thing to you and let it all out. The smell surrounded you first, before nearing out to every corner of the room. Wait, which room? Where were you? What did you just vomit in?

Keep reading

The girl worked somewhere on the same street as his shop and walked by every morning with a coffee in hand. There had been a day, months ago, when he’d just finished cleaning up a spilled bouquet. She’d been walking by and he offered her the flower. It had been empty flirting. She was pretty, he’d been standing there with a flower in hand and she had made eye contact so he’d given it to her.

It had become a tradition. A little thirty second conversation every morning when he offered her some flower he’d chosen for her. He’d pick them out the night before while he was cutting the new stock or first thing in the morning when he was arranging the bouquets that would go out to be sold as-is. Sometimes it was something cheap and simple like a daisy or a bit of baby’s breath but sometimes he’d find a rose or a heavy headed gardenia that would catch his attention and he’d set it aside for her.

Sometimes she would ask questions and he’d get an extra few seconds with her as he talked about zinnas and she spun the bloom in her fingers. Other days she would ask him to tuck it into her hair. She always gave him a smile like he was the best thing she could imagine.

She wore tight jeans that hung low on her hips, shirts that slipped sideways off her shoulders when she moved, boots that looked like they’d be hard to walk in. Her hair was a brilliant white that had to come from expensive dyes. She had tattoos along her shoulders and the little pieces of her back he had seen. Bright colours in geometric patterns. She even had marks on her face that should have looked ridiculous but somehow, she made it elegant. She was gorgeous.

He would drop hints, flirt a little harder some days than others but she wasn’t interested. She smiled and laughed and was so happy to have a flower but he couldn’t get any flash of real interest from her. He could have asked her out but doing that when she wasn’t interested would mean losing this adorable little morning ritual. It didn’t need to be romantic to be good. It made her day and it made him smile and those two things were enough.

“How do you take your coffee?” she asked one morning as he tucked a pink rosebud into her hair.

“My coffee?”

“Or tea? Or orange juice?”

“I like my coffee black, with lots of sugar,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m going to bring you one tomorrow.”

And she did as she promised. She showed up the next morning with a coffee cup and somehow that became part of it. She would linger by his door, drinking her coffee while he finished setting up the displays and wrapping the bouquets.

“Where do you work?” he asked.


“I’m smart enough to figure out that much, thank you,” he said. “I meant which shop.”

“I work at the tattoo parlour on the corner,” she said.

Fora little while, it was enough to have those few minutes in the morning where they would trade a flower for a cup of coffee and she would make conversation about nothing and everything.

“Where are you from?” he asked one day.

“I’ve got an apartment near the park,” she said.

“I meant. You’ve got an accent, did you grow up here?”


“How long have you been here?”

“Three years,” she said. She was spinning the flower he’d given her between her fingers. It was a little uneven so it had gone into a discard pile but she liked anything that wasn’t a solid colour and the sunset pinks and oranges were the type of thing to make her smile. She had been thrilled by it but now she fiddled with the stem enough to make him worry that she would break it.

“Do you like it?”

“Some parts,” she glanced up at him and he let himself imagine for a moment that it meant something but then her gaze moved on, “I miss home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Somewhere that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Are you a refugee?”

“I suppose I am, yes,” she said.

She didn’t expand or explain and the conversation had moved on and she was on her way to work before he could figure out how to phrase it to dig for more information. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to know her favourite colour and whether she was ticklish and what her opinions on politics were and whether or not she liked mushrooms on her pizza. He was falling for her a little harder every time they spoke.

That was what made him more daring. She hadn’t responded to any of his verbal flirting so he started flirting a little more physically. She hadn’t said no but she also hadn’t said yes so he tried to be as reserved as he could be. He touched her hand when he took the cup of coffee and he played with her hair as he tucked the flower into it.

She didn’t say a word about it but this she returned. She tilted her head and leaned in when he touched her hair. She caught him by surprise one morning when she showed up a little bit early and she reached around him to put the coffee on the table in front of him so for a brief moment, she had her arm around his waist. She would cross her arms and mimic him when he stood considering a bouquet that didn’t balance the way he wanted it to. Sometimes she would get a little closer and stand right at his shoulder so they were almost touching.

“Can I ask your advice?” he said one morning.

“Of course,” she said.

“I want to ask out this girl but she only seems interested about half the time and I don’t know if asking her out will just ruin a perfectly good friendship,” he said.

She looked at him and he held her gaze until he was very very sure that she understood what he was asking.

“She’s probably just a little socially inept,” she said.

“That could be it.”

“You should ask,” she said, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“You think so?” he asked.


He finished tucking the flower into her hair. Ok, he stopped playing with her hair. The flower was in place long before he stepped back.

“Do you want to go to dinner with me?”


He laughed and she caught his face in one hand and turned his chin up so she could kiss him.

the actual premise that I didn’t write: Instead of getting sealed into the Castle of Lions, Allura gets launched out in an escape pod of some kind that crash lands on earth. She’s stuck trying to get by and trying to figure out how to get home. Unfortunately, humans haven’t invented deep space travel and Earth is so isolated that even the deep space trade caravans don’t stop there. So she’s trapped and stranded but at least the guy who gives her flowers in the morning helps keep her sane. 

Brother, Annoying Brother - Request

Requested by anon:  A Sherlock x reader where Sherlock is inlove with the reader, but wouldn’t admit it. Mycroft knows about it and makes Sherlock jealous by flirting with the reader. So he would confess. They’re working on a case with mycroft

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 1,312

Warnings: Un-edited.

A/N: I loved writing this.


Originally posted by imaginesherlock

Working along with Mycroft was never ever part of the plan. He wasn’t a ninja, a field soldier, or a detective; Mycroft was the kind of man to order whatever he needed via mobile and get in on a silver platter, and that was one of the things that frustrated Sherlock the most.

“You’re ruining the case!” Sherlock fumed. He loved searching for clues, and doing his own research and Mycroft had gotten all of the information with just one phone call.

“No, I solved half of it quickly. It’s called being efficient.” Mycroft replied bitterly.

“Boys…” (Y/N) called their attention as she appeared at the door with a letter in hand.

“What is it, (Y/N)?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft was surprised by the soft tone he had used; completely different to the one used against him two seconds before.

“A man gave me this for you, Sher.” She explained, handing the letter to him. Sherlock instantly recognized it as a clue from the criminal they were after.

“Did he hurt you? Did he say anything at all? How does he look like?” Sherlock inquired as a preoccupied look invaded his gaze; Mycroft took the letter off his brother’s hands, but was too focused on Sherlock’s behaviour.

“I’m fine; I don’t think that’s your criminal.” She said, softly. Mycroft noticed how their eyes were strictly staring into the other’s eyes like there was nothing else around. “More like a messenger.”

“You’re right.” Sherlock nodded, clearing his throat and returning to his usual superiority posture. He took the letter off Mycroft’s hands and analysed it carefully.

(Y/N) excused herself a few minutes after, claiming that she had plans with Mrs. Hudson and Mary. Mycroft used it for his advantage, making sure to give his little brother the most obvious and annoying knowing look the world has ever seen.

“What?” Sherlock groaned angrily.

“You fancy her.” Mycroft observed.

“Of course I fancy her, she’s a good friend.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“No, you fancy her like more than a friend.” Sherlock froze for a second but ignored his brother. “I’m not saying that I understand because I’ve never been a man of too many feelings, but you… You were always a sentimental.”

“Shut up, I’m working.” Sherlock ordered as he continued to analyse the pictures the forensic department had sent him.

Keep reading

All Started With a Song Part 8 // Conor Maynard

Word Count- 2304

Summary- conor sees your cover and contacts you

A/n-(feel free to change the friends name I was just too lazy to write y/f/n that may times) ok so i hd to repost it bc i forgot to put part 8. im so sorry omg. but this will be last part for a few days. hope you enjoy.


“Oh. My. God.”

“LA is so beautiful, and we haven’t even left the airport!” Alice giggled.

“I am so excited,” you smiled, walking towards the luggage claim.

“What are we doing first?” Olivia asked.

“Checking in at the hotel, then we can find somewhere to have lunch. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” she stopped. “Thanks again Y/n/n. It means a lot that you chose me to come with you.”

“Of course Liv, you deserve the world and more. The least I can do is take you on a mini adventure with me,” you smiled.

She pulled you into a hug, muttering another ‘thank you’ into your shoulder.


You guys had some trouble checking in at the hotel.

“What do you mean we don’t have a room?” you sighed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. There is no room reserved under Y/l/n.” he gave you an unapologetic smile.

You walked away from the counter and called Sabrina.

“Hey girl! How’s LA?”

“It’s nice, but the hotel is saying they don’t have a room for us,” you were trying your hardest not to cry.

“Really? That’s odd. You said my last name right?”

“What? It’s under your name?”

“Oh my gosh, did I not tell you? I’m so sorry!”

You chuckled, “Its okay.”

“To make it up you girls, I’ll take you out to lunch,” she said.

“Sounds good! Meet you in 20.”


You ended up going to In-N-Out, it was the greatest thing you’ve ever had.

“This is so good, why doesn’t London have this?” Olivia moaned into her burger.

“So what are your plans for today?” Sabrina asked, munching on a fry.

“Hmm, I don’t quite know. We were probably just gonna chill at the hotel.” Alice sipped on her drink.

“Well, I know that you two,” she said pointing at Alice and Olivia. “Probably don’t have plans tomorrow while Y/n is with Anth.”

“Not really. We weren’t going to explore LA until Sunday and Monday.”

“I may or may not have scheduled you guys’ spa appointments,” she smiled.

“Really?” Olivia asked.

“Yeah, but if you guys aren’t up for it, I can cancel.”

“Who would turn down a spa day??” Alice laughed.

After lunch you parted ways with Sabrina. The three of you went back to the hotel, had a swim, took lots of pictures, and just had a great time. The girls also helped you practice for tomorrow.

You were really nervous about tomorrow. The last time you went to sing a duet you were humiliated. So who knows how tomorrow will go.


You weren’t supposed to meet Anth until noon, but you were wake by 7. You just couldn’t sleep any longer. You had to get everything ready and make sure it was perfect. You couldn’t be late or early. Everything needed to be planned. You weren’t going to ruin this collab as well.

Though you didn’t exactly ruin the last one.

“Alice, Olivia, I’m going to shower. Please get up, I want breakfast soon.” You said as you grabbed your clothes and headed to the shower.

Throughout the showers, many tears were shed. This was the only time you allowed yourself to cry, about anything you needed to.

You were mainly crying because you hadn’t gotten any answers. It had been almost 2 weeks and he hadn’t even tried to apologize. You let the tears run down your face. What did you do to make him so angry? Why did he hurt you like that? Did he truly forget?

These questions ran through your brain every day. But you only acknowledged them at these times.

After a good 15 minutes of self-pity you got out of the shower. You were careful to make sure your face wasn’t red nor puffy when you left the bathroom.

“Almost ready?” you asked as you dropped the towel in your make-shift pile of dirty clothes.

“Yes, just a few more curls to go,” Olivia said, twirling her curling wand.

“I need to do my eyebrows, then we can go.” Alice said as she grabbed her eyebrow palette and took a seat in front of the mirror.

You three finished getting ready in silence, but it wasn’t weird.


After breakfast you three went back to the hotel. You had made an agreement before you got here that you weren’t going to explore until you had the entire day, cuz you all knew that you’d get sidetracked and be late.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“Ten past ten,” Alice said as she scrolled through Instagram.

“Where are you meeting him?” Olivia asked as she flipped through the channels on TV, stopping on The Notebook.

“In the hotel he’s staying at,” you answered.

“Ooooh his hotel room,” Alice wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ew stop!” you threw a pillow at her. “I don’t see him like that.”

“He’s definitely boyfriend material,” Olivia smirked.

“I don’t even know him!”

“You didn’t know Conor,” said Alice as you glared at her. “Sorry.”

“I just, I just don’t know what I did wrong! Did I say something or not say something. Was I a jerk? Was I too forward? Too clingy? I just don’t understand what I did!” you cried.

“Hey,” Olivia hugged you. “You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? Nothing. This is not your fault. What happened was completely his fault. And I’m sorry he hasn’t given you answers, but don’t you dare blame yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sniffled. “He’s at fault here, not me.”

“You should post a picture on Instagram to show him what he’s missing.”

“I should.”

You posted a picture of you at the restaurant you went to this morning. Olivia had taken the picture. It was of you holding a cup of tea, you were looking at the camera smiling. You thought you looked amazing, because you did. Your eyes sparkled with joy and your smile was as bright as the sun.

You posted the picture with the caption that said:

the barista judged me for getting tea instead of coffee…

You decided to curl your hair for the video with Anth. So you were sat on the ground in front of the mirror as Alice and Olivia watched The Notebook.

“Oh my god.” Alice gasped.

“What?” you looked at her through the mirror.

“He liked your picture.”

“Who did?” you sat the curling wand down and turned to face your friends.

“Conor did.”


You went to reply when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you stood up and walked out into the hallway.

“Who’s she talking to?” Olivia asked Alice.

“No idea. But this is getting out of hand,” she sighed.

“Conor needs to stop playing her like this.”

“We have to do something.”

“I know, but what?”

“Hey guys,” you said, walking back in. “I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you tonight. Have fun at the spa and don’t do anything stupid!”

You walked out of the hotel and waited for your Uber. The ride there was actually nice.

“So where ya headed?” the older lady asked.

“A friend’s house, we’re going to film a cover for his YouTube channel,” you smiled.

“Exciting. How’s your week been?”

“Honestly? It could have been better, but I’m on vacation so I’m not complaining.”

“Do you want to take about it?”

“Really?” you asked.

“Sweetheart, I have a 14 year old. I’m used to talking them through their problems.”

“There’s this guy, and he was really nice but then he did something really rude and he’s been ignoring me since. All I want to know is what I did wrong,” you sighed.

“Have you tried approaching him?”

“Well, he’s kind of famous. So no.”

“Ah, I see. Well do you want my advice as a stranger or a mom?”


“Okay, well my advice as a stranger is to block him on everything and try to forget what happened. He’s not worth it.”

You chuckled, “And your advice as a mom?”

“Try to talk to him. Don’t ask for an apology, just an explanation. If it’s a dumb one then move on. If it’s reasonable then try to work through it.”

“Wow, thank you so much.”

She parked the car and turned around, “Anytime.”

“Here you go,” you gave her your money and exited the vehicle. Once you were on the side walk you turned around, “your child is one lucky kid.”


The walk to Anth’s room was quiet, which allowed you to think. This is the first time since he liked your picture that you’ve had time to think about it.

How fucking dare he do that?

He had no right.

He ignored you for almost 2 weeks then likes your photo.

You were pissed off. He was playing you, or at least trying to. You weren’t going to fall into his tricks anymore. He was a dick and he didn’t deserve you.

You finally arrived to Anth’s room and knocked.

“Hi, you must be Y/n!” he smiled, embracing you in a hug.

“That’s me,” you laughed.

“I have so many ideas,” he said, leading you into the main room of the loft.

“I’m all ears,” you said as you sat down.

“So since you have a higher voice than me I was thinking we could do a duet that was originally sung by a guy and a girl.”

“I agree, do you have any ideas?”

“I have one,” he opened his phone and a song began playing. It was ‘Secret Love Song’ by Little Mix.

“I love this song!” you stood up and began singing along as you danced around the living room.

“And I also wrote a rap for it,” he handed you his notes and you read over them.

“Anth, this is amazing!” you read the lyrics, you were in awe of this boy.

“Thanks,” he stood up. “Are you sure it’s not too scandalous?” he asked as he started to set up the lights.

You grabbed the second light and followed his movements, “Why would you think that?”

He gave you a look.

“Oh, that.”


“Did he tell you?”

“No, and you don’t have to.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to know?” you smirked. “It doesn’t bother me anymore.” That wasn’t a complete lie, it still hurt but not as bad.

“Oh thank god, I’ve been dying to know,” he laughed.

So you told the story once more. Explaining what happened, how you felt, how you assumed he felt all while setting up.

“So,” you started, sitting down in front of the camera. “What’s the key to making a cover amazing?”

“All the emotion you feel towards Conor, put it into your singing.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”


The recording was amazing. Though you did have to do multiple takes due to laughing, getting distracted or crying uncontrollably.

The one thing you loved about Anth is that he didn’t judge you. The first time you cried while recording, he simply stopped the camera and gave you a tissue. He waited until you told him you were ready.

After finally getting all the footage needed you two ordered pizza.

“Would you mind if I invited my friends over?” you asked, as you took a drink of your water.

“I don’t mind, just make sure they don’t post the location.”

“Got it,” you chuckled as you sent Alice a text telling her they could come over.

“Okay,” you started.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting next to you.

“You know my story, what’s yours?””

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Honestly?” he nodded.

“Why do you think he did it?” you asked shyly.

“I have no clue. You’re an amazing girl and he lucked out.”

“Do you think I did something?”

“The thing with Conor is, he doesn’t know what to do when put into a situation. And half the time, he’ll pick the easy option.”

“That’s the thing though!” you threw your hands up. “I don’t know what situation he was put into.”

“Have you asked him?”

“I was going to, but he unadded me on everything. I took that as a sign to leave him alone.”

There was a knock at the door.

Anth put his hand on your thigh, “I don’t know why he did what he did. Just know, he’s the type of guy that will do anything, and I mean anything to make sure you know he’s sorry.” And with that he got up and answered the door, returning with your two closest friends.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of laughter and good music.

At first it was just videos of you four singing in your loudest voice possible but then it got serious. You got into teams and began battling against each other. So it was fair, Alice and you were on one team while Olivia and Anth on another.

It got super tense when Anth and you were up against each other.

He began rapping which honestly shouldn’t have caught you off guard, but it did. So then you started to sing You & I by One Direction, which caused him to smirk thinking he had won. But when you hit that high note everyone’s jaw dropped.

“Holy shit Y/n.” he gasped.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “Does that mean I win?”

“I’ll say you won if you agree to do another cover with me.”

“I don’t know,” you trailed off. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

This caused all four of you to burst out laughing.

But then the door knocked.

“Who else did you invite?” Anth asked.

“No one.” You three said in unison.

“I’ll go check, just in case it’s a fan.” You said walking to the door.

When you opened the door you froze. You did not expect to see him of all people.

Conor Maynard was standing right in front of you.


Love at First Note - 2

part 1

•He started coming back… coming from the world he so loved
•Coming back from the world that loved him back
•Coming back from the world of music
•Coming back to the real world…
•Coming back to the world that despised him
•Coming back to the world he so resented… he came back
•He had started playing his violin again to get rid of his nightmares and memories because even after 2 years the war was still fresh in his mind
•His mother had suggested this to him while she helped him come down from the third nightmare that night
•It certainly did not wipe away the memories and mistakes but it helped
•Draco, coming down from his musical high, opened his eyes slowly, inhaled the smell of the attic
•As he got adjusted to the light in the room he came across sparkling emerald eyes looking right at him
•He could never mistake those eyes to be anyone else’s other than Potter’s (fresh pickled toad and all)
•Once he adjusted to the light the realized the eyes were extra bright because they were about to overflow
•Harry Potter- Savior of the Wizarding World had heard him, Draco Malfoy- Ex Death Eater, play his violin and was now close to tears ??!!
•He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug albiet mixed with a sense of awkwardness and shyness
•Shyness and awkwardness because his audience had always only consisted his parents and Mrs. Twune
•"Potter are you quite alright ? Kneazle got your tongue ??“ Draco couldn’t help but ask
•"You wish Malfoy” Potter said wiping away his tears and putting on his defiant face that Draco knew so well
•Afterall that face had frequented his nightmares of the fiendfyre
•Suddenly, “That was marvelous Draco !! You have not lost your magic at all ! Even after these 4 years your music had the power to bring me close to tears”
•Draco, and by the looks of it Potter too, had forgotten about Mrs. Twune
•"Thank you Thea. This couldn’t have happened without you. Afterall you were the one who taught me" Draco said smiling.
•All this while, it seemed Potter was trying to compose himself.
•Draco couldn’t help but be reminded of Potter’s tear filled eyes
•Draco had never thought that anyone would ever look at him like THAT
•Like what he did could be good
•Like his own two hands could do anything that would not end up being a mistake
•That there was some part of him that could be beautiful
•That he would be able to provide some form of happiness to someone
•Potter had looked at him like that
•While he had been lost in his thoughts he had started packing his violin into it’s case on autopilot
•As soon as he was done Mrs. Twune said, “Come Draco, Mr. Potter, let me show you out. It’s getting quite late”
•Just as Mrs. Twune closed the doors after having exchanged goodbyes with both of them Potter turned towards him
•Draco was nervous about what Potter would ask him because Potter obviouly had questions
•He really hoped it was nothing related to the war because the purpose of playing today would be ruined and he did not want nightmares, thank you very much.
•"Want to grab a cup of tea or coffee with me sometime ??“ Potter asked unexpectedly.
•And Draco was shocked into saying yes





Thank you so much !😙😍❤

Trust Me

Admin Marie

A/N: I’ve decided to start a chaptered fanfic! It probably won’t be long, maybe 3 chapters? I haven’t decided yet but I’m working on it. 

Word Count: 2002

Genre: Single Parent!AU Angst Fluff

Member: Mark (Got7)

Summary: You became a mother of a beautiful girl named Jisoo at just 16 years old. After her father ran out on the two of you, you wrote your love life off and devoted everything you had to your daughter. Everything changes when you meet a gorgeous stranger who takes interest in Jisoo and your lives.

Warnings: Language

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Originally posted by sxy-jmn

To become a mother at 16 was a huge blow to your life. You never regretted having Jisoo, your daughter, but it is hard to raise a child all alone. Your parents supported you endlessly and never got mad over your teen pregnancy, much to your surprise. They probably would’ve been harsher with you if Jisoo’s dad hadn’t ran off because he was scared.

You aren’t Korean, but Jisoo’s dad is. You moved out to Korea when you were 13 years old because your parents got a job offering in Seoul and they couldn’t refuse. You met Jisoo’s dad when you were 15 years old and you two rushed into a relationship and then Jisoo happened. You were scared, to say the least, but you love your daughter.

Now, you’re 20 years old and Jisoo just turned 4. You both live alone in your small apartment in Seoul. Jisoo is a smart girl, actually looking quite like her father, showing more of her Korean roots than the roots you provided, although she looked a fair both like you too. Jisoo is very kind, never even dreaming of hurting a fly and very clingy to you, hating when you have to leave her at your parents house so you can go to work.

You work at a café in the middle of Seoul. It’s about a 15 minute commute from your apartment. You hate leaving your daughter, but you have to so you can live. Your parents have offered to pay for you to go to university but you always refuse, never wanting to take their money that they worked hard to make. Your parents made an insane amount of money on a project so your mom retired to help take care of Jisoo. Both your parents were young parents themselves, so they felt really sympathetic towards you because they knew what it was like to take on such a huge responsibility.

Your younger brother, who is only 16, adores Jisoo. He’s a highschool student but whenever he comes home and his niece is sitting on the floor of his living room or napping in his bedroom, he gets really excited. It warms your heart to see your brother be so excited over your daughter.

“Jisoo, what are you drawing?” You ask the small, brown haired toddler who’s perched on the floor, a purple crayon clutched in her hand, leaning over her colourful paper.

“I’m colouring a rainbow, mommy,” She replies, her eyes not leaving her paper. You smile at her, relaxing into your chair a little more. You worked double shifts at the cafe today and you were absolutely exhausted. “Mommy, are you sleepy?” Jisoo asks, her attention falling on you instead of the paper in front of her.

“Nope, not at all, Soo. Do want a snack before bed?” You ask, checking the time.

“No thank you,” She says, yawning and stretching her little arms above her head.

“Bedtime?” You ask. She nods and holds her arms up for you to carry her. You laugh softly and pick her up. She giggles and snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, brown hair tickling your cheek. You place her on the floor of her bedroom and get out her favourite pair of pajamas. She changes and you take her to the bathroom. You two brush your teeth at the same time, and you brush her long brown hair. She yawns again as she climbs into her bed and pulls the covers up to her chin.

“Mommy?” She asks.

“Yes?” You reply, eager to hear the young girl’s request.

“Can you read me a bedtime story?” She asks. You nod, walking to her bookcase and pulling out a book that you know is your favourite. As you read the book, she just gets more tired and more tired, her eyes drooping and eventually fluttering shut.

“Goodnight, Soo,” you whisper, kissing her forehead and walking off. You hop into the shower and after getting out, you blow dry your long hair, carefully. After you’re done, you pull on a large shirt and shorts and crawl into your bed, thinking about how happy you are to have the daughter you do.

The next day, you get up and get yourself and Jisoo ready, feeding your toddler breakfast and getting her into your old, beaten up car. You knock on your parent’s front door, waiting idly outside. Your brother, Matthew, opens the door and yells happily when he sees you and Jisoo.

“Soo! Sis!” He exclaims. You laugh.

“Matt!” You exclaim.

“Mattie!” Jisoo exclaims, holding her arms out for Matthew. You pass your daughter to your brother.

“I gotta go to the café. I’ll see you later,” you say, kissing Jisoo’s cheek and ruffling your brother’s hair before walking down the front walkway and into your car. You turn the radio on, jamming to a Monsta X song. When you get to the cafe, you walk inside, going into the back and pulling on your apron and pinning your name tag on. You take a deep breath, getting ready for your day. You walk out of the back and hastily take over the cash register.

Your day starts like every other, with you taking orders, placing money in the cash register, wiping down tables and making drinks. You’re about half through your shift when a gorgeous man walks up to the cash register. You’re awe struck for a second but you brush it off, knowing you’re at work and have no chance with this man, nor do you want one.

“What can I do for you?” You ask. The man smiles, showing off a row of pin stright, white teeth.

“Can I have a chai tea latte please?” He asks. You nod, grabbing a cup and  writing his order on the side.

“What’s the name for the sup?” You sask.

“Mark,” He replies. You write his name on the cup and set it beside you. You’re understaffed right now so usually another barista would pick up the drink and make it while you continued to work the cash register, but that wasn’t the case. He pays you for the drink and you pick up his cup, walking to the coffee machine. You follow the correct procedure to your drink making process. Mark watches you like he’s enthralled with what you’re doing. You finish, snapping a lid on the hot drink and placing it on the counter.

“Here’s your latte,” You say. He smiles brightly.

“Thank you,” He replies. You smile in return and he takes his rink and sits down in the corner of the empty cafe. The only people on there are you and Mark and it’s painfully obvious to both of you.

“So are you a University student?” Mark asks, surprising you.

“No, I’m not,” You reply. He scans you again.

“I thought you were at least 20, that’s why I asked,” He says.

“I am, 20. I am not a University student though, this is all I do,” You reply.

“Why not?” He asks. You shrug, perplexed in his interest in you.

“It’s kind of complicated. I wanted to go to university when I was a teenager but I ended up not,” You reply, wiping a table beside Mark’s off.

“What changed?” He asks. You shrug again.

“A lot. My priorities changed and I’m living a different life now than what I ever imagined,” You admit.

“Was it a boy who changed your priorities?” He asks. You’re about to respond when the front door opens and you hear your daughter’s excited squeals. You stand up immediately and watch as Jisoo runs in, Matthew and your mom right on her heels.

“Mommy!” Jisoo squeals, running over to you. You pick her up and placer her on your hip.

“Soo! How are you?” You ask.

“I’m good, mommy.” She replies. You smile at her and set her on the floor. She sees Mark who’s watching you both curiously.

“Who are you?” Jisoo asks Mark, staring at him.

“Jisoo, that’s not polite,” You chide.

“It’s all good. I’m Mark, what’s your name?” He asks your daughter.

“My name is Jisoo and I’m four years old!” She exclaims, holding up five fingers. Mark smiles warmly at your daughter.

“Y/N, I want a frozen hot chocolate,” Your brother whines.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m coming,” You playfully reply, walking to the front counter and fulfilling your brother’s wish. He hands you the proper amount of cash for the drink and you shake your head.

“I’ll get it for you, for taking care of Jisoo,” You reply. He shakes his head.

“Don’t be stupid, Sis. Take it,” He replies. You reluctantly take his money and place it in the cash register. Jisoo runs up to the counter.

“What can I get my princess?” You ask.

“White hot cocoa!” She exclaims. You make her the drink she wants and hand it to her, over the counter. “Thanks, mommy!” She exclaims. I run the the back and get the money the drink cost out of your wallet before putting it in the cash register. Matt and Jisoo walk out after getting their drinks, waving goodbye.

“So that’s what changed all your priorities?” Mark asks. You nod.

“I wouldn’t give her up for the world, though,” You reply.

“Was that her father?” He asks. You burst out laughing. Once you’ve calmed down enough to speak you know you have to explain well.

“No, no not at all. That,s my brother, Matthew,” You reply. Mark laughs along with you.

“I thought you two looked oddly alike,” He says. You smile to yourself as you mindlessly clean the front display. “So where’s her dad?” He asks. Your hand stops mid motion and your whole body goes rigid.

“I don’t like to talk about that,” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat. You see him nod out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” He says.

“No, it’s fine. It’s a natural question to ask,” You reply, slowly moving your hand across the glass of the display again, working to get all the fingerprints off. The door opens and you watch as a blond man walks in.

“Mark!” He yells. You jump at his loudness and watch from a crouch behind the counter as five more guys walk in. “Is there no one working here?” The blond guy asks, looking around the small cafe, not seeing the top quarter of your face that’s peeking out from behind the counter. You stand up, leaning on the counter.

“I’m working here,” You say. Blondie scans you.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” He replies. “I’m Jackson!” He says. You raise your eyebrows, confused at why he’s telling you his name. When you don’t respond, he puts and slumps into the chair opposite Mark. The others all bow at you and sit down. You ignore their conversation and go to the back to fetch your phone and earbuds because you’re honesty so done, all you want is to go home and watch a kid’s show with Jisoo. You stick your earbuds in and walk to the front again, leaning against the back counter and patiently waiting for a customer to come in so you have something to do. You watch the table of seven guys as they talk intensely, sometime one turns and looks at you but turns away again.

You eventually get tired of their shit and when you’re about to whip out your earbud and tell them the fuck off, the girl who is working the next shift walks in. You pull your earbuds out and thank her and you go to the back and take off your name tag and apron, placing them in their designated places and grabbing your purse and exiting the back. You exit the shop and walk out into the crisp autumn air. When you look back to the warm glow of the cafe, Mark is already looking at you.


Originally posted by yoonnoh

Description: October is always a month filled with odd happenings, but the weirdest thing by far is a bloody man showing up on your doorstep. 

Warning: Blood/Swearing

You hummed softly to yourself, fixing yourself a warm cup of tea in the kitchen, preparing to settle down on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and binge watch movies for October. The heat was up, the lights off, snacks were set out of the coffee table, and you were ready for a long night of not moving at all.
You had just sat down, remote in hand, when a loud rumble shook the house. Your face scrunched in confusion at the sound, like a way magnified bolt of thunder, but there was no storm on the radar for today, or any day coming up for that matter. The sound lasted longer than any thunder bolt you’ve heard and seemed to vibrate your entire body with the level of volume it carried before everything was silent again. Until the pounding at your front door rang through the quiet living room, making you feel uneasy.
“Please…” A rough voice said from the other side of your front door, belonging to the person knocking with urgency. “Please…I need help…”
At that, you jumped up, the tea you were holding falling to the ground, the cup shattering on the floor and liquid drenching the floor as you raced towards the door, unlocking it and flinging it open, shrieking at the sight that awaited you.
A man was crumpled on your front porch, clothes ripped, hair matted, blood seeping from somewhere on his back. He looked like he had to drag himself onto your porch, indicated by the drag marks of blood smeared across the concrete while the man laid on the ground, hand raised to knock again before you flung the door open.
“Oh my god what happened!?” You yelled, immediately falling to your knees and trying to help the man up, but stopped when he shouted it pain when you brushed his back.
“Don’t!” He gasped, clenching his teeth tightly.
“Oh my god oh my god!” You cursed, reaching for his arm this time, trying to lift the pretty much dead weight man, his weight making you collapse once before you managed to stand and awkwardly lean him against you.
The man continued groaning, gasping in pain with every move as you dragged him inside, attempting to get him to the couch.
Noting his back, you laid him on his front across the couch, stuttering to him, “W-wait here!”, and running off to find the phone to call 911.
Rushing back to him, you hit the digits, but his hand shot out to grab your hand, “Don’t! Don’t call anyone!”
“You need an ambulance! You need the police! What happened to you!?”
“Don’t call anyone!” He commanded through faces of pure agony, as he tried to sit up, taking the phone from you and chucking it across the room causing you to yell in protest. “Just listen to me! Get a first aid, and keep your mouth shut, okay?”
If he won’t let me call 911, first aid is the next best thing. You thought begrudgingly, and nodded before darting off to the bathroom, returning with the little bag of medical supplies.
“Where are you hurt?” You asked, eyeing the blood covered man, noting that the couch would definitely be cleaned after this mess.
“My back,” He answered, slowly undoing his shirt that was just a blood rag at this point. “Just my back.”
Nodding, you pulled some gauze and anti bacteria spray from the first aid, you waited for him to work the shirt that had dried slightly, forcing him to have to tear the shirt from the scabbing over wounds on his back, resulting in another sharp intake of breath from the man. Finally working the shirt off, he turned to give you access to his back, and it was your turn to gasp.
On either shoulder blade, two six inch straight lines were beginning to bleed profusely again after removing the shirt. The sight was shocking enough, deep wounds that looked like someone had sunk a hatchet into his back twice, open and red with agitation and blood. He’d definitely need stitches, no doubt about that.
“What the fuck happened to you!” You gasped, taking one of the gauze and stopping the blood trickling down his back from meeting your couch cushion.
“Please, I just need you to fix this,” The man swallowed hard, “And I’ll explain.”
Not satisfied with that answer, you couldn’t do anything but agree.
“You’re going to need stitches, you really should go to the hospital…”
“I can’t go to a hospital, just please…just sew me up.” The man pleaded.
Frowning, you stood to go find a needle and thread, returning and seeing the man looking over his shoulder at the damage, a grimace on his face, “Don’t look at them.”
“I’ve seen worse.” The man replied, flinching when you gently began dabbing his skin, trying to get the dried and fresh blood off his skin before you went any further.
“It looks like you just escaped a murder scene,” You said, shaking the anti bacteria spray, “Hold on, this’ll sting.”
You could see him take a deep breath, holding it before you sprayed his wounds, but he still let out a loud yell, his muscles tensing at the pain.
“This is going to be worse.” You mumbled, not happy about the next part. You carefully threaded the needle, and counted to ten in your head, while the man clenched his fists in preparation for the feeling to come.
His fingers dug into his covered thighs when the needle pierced his skin, each move more painful than the last as you tried your best to close up his gaping would with sewing thread. His shaky breath was all you could hear when you sprayed the one side again before covering it in gauze.
Doing the same to the other wound, you found yourself holding your breath just like the man as you repeated each step carefully to avoid hurting him more than he already was. When the last gauze was taped to him, his breathing was heavy, body weak from all the strain it had just went through.
Before you tucked everything away, you brought him a cup of water and a couple pain pills, which he accepted with a shaky hand.
“Now,” You said, sitting on the coffee table and observing the man. “Are you going to tell me who you are and what the fuck happened now?”
“I did say I would,” He nodded, “My names Ten. As for what happened…you likely won’t believe it.”
“Try me,” You said, “Was it an ax murderer?”
“Not quite, no.” He shook his head.
“Then what?” You asked.
“I fell,” Ten said bluntly. “I’m an angel, and I fell from Heaven.”

Lucifer x Prophet!Reader Chapter One

This isn’t a request, just something I had an idea of watching season five, hope you enjoy!

Warning: None so far

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Fandom: Supernatural

You knew you were different. Ever since you were a child, you’d see visions of the future. In your dreams, when you were bored, pretty much anytime you weren’t thinking of something important. You’d see your mother dropping a plate, then a minute later it would happen. You kept it to yourself, you knew they’d think you were crazy. Insane. Maybe they’d think you were mentally challenged.

When you got older, you became more public. You became a psychic, telling people their futures for money. It made you a good living and you became popular, newspapers published articles about you, you were even on the popular tv show Ellen.

That’s when he came to you. An angel named Castiel. He said you were a prophet of the lord, chosen by god.

“And I thought I was crazy.” You snorted, bringing the cup of tea up to your lips and taking a sip. You were in a little coffee shop down the road from your house, the same one you went to everyday at 2pm. He met you there, sitting down without asking and dropping the bomb.

He furrowed his brows. “Do you think I am lying?” He said, confused.

“Uhm, I don’t think you’re telling the truth. But you can’t blame me for that. I mean, you come in here, say you’re an angel, say I’m a prophet, and expect me to believe you?” You laughed loudly, causing a few heads to look at you. You quieted down after that. “Come on man. Seriously.”

He sighed, finally getting the point. “(Y/N.” He started and you froze. You didn’t remember telling him your name. “I’ve been watching over you for a while, as I should. But recently you have become… activated. Remember when you told that man his future? His name was Sam Winchester. He came as a joke, his brother dared him to. But once you touched his hand you saw it. You saw it all. The talks with Lucifer, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, his body beating his brother almost to death. You saw it, and now you’re a part of it.”

You stood up, feeling sick, and ran out of the shop without paying for your tea. You doubted the workers cared, you’d always left hefty tips for the cute girl at the counter. As soon as you left the shop you vomited on the sidewalk, a few people gasping and making crude noises before slowly walking past you, carrying on their merry way.

Castiel was beside you in no time. “Would you like to go home?” He asked and you nodded quickly. Before you knew it, you were no longer on the sidewalk outside of the coffee shop, but in your living room. The change of scenery and temperature didn’t help your nausea, it in fact worsened it.

“You, you really are an angel.” You gasped for breath. Steadying yourself on your knees you stood up, your whole body shaking. “Why are you here? I’m no prophet, get away from me.” You hissed and looked around, trying to find an object near to steady yourself. “Please, just go away.” You desperately wanted him to be lying. You wanted this to somehow be a tv show trick. But it wasn’t. Deep inside, you knew it. You knew there was something more to your visions. But you didn’t know it was this… this extreme. “Leave my house now, go away.” You shouted, stepping backwards to the nearest wall.

Castiel stepped towards you and grabbed your arm. That was a big mistake. Your house started shaking, a blinding light slowly building up in the windows, getting brighter and brighter. A look of fear built up on Castiel’s face and he stepped backwards to the front door. “I, I wasn’t trying to hurt you…” The further he got away, the less your house shook.

You looked to him with a crazed expression on your face. “What the hell was that?” You gasped your breathing labored.

He looked around, still worried, “Every prophet has an archangel tied to them. The angel varies. I don’t know which it is, but he must have thought you were in danger. Every time something threats a prophet, the wrath of heaven’s most dangerous weapons is rained upon them. ”

“Archangels? Tied to me? Like a guardian angel?” You were a bit relieved at that, it made you feel safer. “So, Michael, Gabriel, or Raphael?”

“Or Lucifer.” He said it in a tone you couldn’t understand, but it seemed to be negative.

Lucifer? Isn’t he in hell? Is he even considered an archangel anymore? “Lucifer? I don’t think so.” You laughed in a shaky voice. You were nervous, scared and excited at the same time. This was the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to you.

“Yes, but we don’t choose which archangel gets the prophet. It’s not random, but it doesn’t seem to have a meaning.” He said, his posture still the same. Back straight, serious face. It was unnerving. “I need to leave, heaven needs me. But if you need anything, pray to me. I will come as soon as I can.”

And with that, he disappeared, leaving you in your house.

Blame it on the Alcohol- Part 4

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: ??? It’s got a tiny bit of smut in it 

Word Count: 3.2k

Other Parts: 1 2 3 4

I side eyed the classroom once more, checking to make sure the professor wasn’t hiding in the corner or something. When I confirmed he wasn’t in the room, I grabbed my bag off the ground and quickly went to the exit with Jungkook close on my tail. We ducked down the hall and out to the courtyard which was surprisingly scarce of people. Jungkook pulled me around a secluded corner and pressed me against the cold brick wall. His hands moved all over my body as he desperately attacked my lips with his own. I tangled my hands in his hair and tugged on it as his tongue dove deeply into my mouth.

Jungkook broke away, hair tousled and breathing hard. His eyes scanned me up and down and then one side of his mouth turned upward, “let’s go back to my place,” he grabbed my hand and started pulling me.

I pulled my hand out of his grip to make him look back at me, which he did in confusion, “Mine is closer,” I told him.

His eyes darkened with mischief and lust, “Lead the way then,” he held his hand out in front of him to let me walk passed him.

I once again laced my fingers with his and this time pulled him down the path which I knew was a shortcut to my apartment building. The normally scenic path through the local park by my apartment blurred by as I ungraciously tugged Jungkook down the sidewalk. Butterflies filled my stomach when we walked through the main entrance to the building and hiked up the three levels of stairs to my floor. I pulled Y/BF/N’s key out of my pocket, sticking it into the keyhole and swinging the door open.

I pulled Jungkook into my bedroom and immediately I was shoved onto the bed.

He grappled at the bottom of my shirt and vigorously pulled it off my body. He attached his mouth to the exposed valley between my breasts while undoing his belt. While he did that, I worked on getting my pants and underwear off as quickly as possible, desperate to alleviate the ache between my legs. He pulled his shirt off, then kicked his pants to the ground, boxers included then immediately lined himself up with my hole. He thrusted hard and eagerly into me, causing intense pleasure and a slight sting from the stretch to mix inside of me. He buried his head in my neck as he rapidly moved his hips.

We both came hard and fast. Jungkook threw himself down on the bed, back first and was breathing heavily. He wrapped his arm around me to pull my body close to his. I laid my head down on his chest which was quickly rising and falling.

“You know,” I started, still trying to catch my breath, “we can’t keep just leaving school in the middle of the day.”

“Oh but this is so much more fun,” he whined dramatically.

I giggled at his comment then sighed, falling into a state of exhaustion which always took over my body after we finished our “activities”.

I closed my eyes and listened to his heart pounding. His fingers gently massaged my scalp making the urge to fall asleep stronger.

Jungkook lurched all of the sudden, “Oh, Y/N! Before I forget, give me your phone number,” he said while sitting up and reaching for his pants on the floor. He unlocked his phone and handed it to me, “in case you forget your bag at my house again.”

“Or you want a booty call,” I smirked.

He shrugged and the corners of his mouth turned upward, “Maybe that too.”

I typed in my number then handed his phone back to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest.

We sat in comfortable silence for a significant amount of time. I laid my head on his chest thinking about how nice his skin felt, and how comfortable he was, and how I really really didn’t want to get up. I thought about his fingers which were massaging my scalp and found it funny that such a simple action could make my heart start pounding in my chest. It was moments like this that I wished would never end. It was moments like this that made me fall for him so hard, so fast. I wondered if there was even the slightest chance that he felt the same way.

“Hey, Jungkook?” I began, unable to contain my thoughts any longer, “what are we doing here?”

He hesitated, “Huh?”

I sat up to look at his face, “I mean this,” I gestured between us, “what are we doing… with each other?”

He looked to the ceiling as he thought through his answer, “Having fun,” he said simply.

I scrunched my face, “Okay but…” I struggled to find the right words to say, “what’s gonna happen with us?”

Jungkook’s fingers skimmed up and down my spine, “Y/N, don’t stress about it. We’re having fun. A lot of fun,” he smirked, “Let’s just keep doing that and see where life takes us. We can worry about labels later.”

My heart sank a little. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling the same way as me. However, he also liked spending time with me. As he said, we’re having a lot of fun, and I’d hate for that to end.

“Let’s just say we’re friends,” he suggested, “really close friends.”

I laughed once, “we’re friends with benefits,” I called the situation as it actually was.

He nodded.

I examined his face to make sure he was serious. His eyes were glued to mine and his mouth was set in a straight line.

“Okay then,” I nodded firmly, satisfied with the consensus, then laid down and rested my head on his chest again.

We fell asleep together then Jungkook left almost immediately after he woke up a few hours later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said kindly before leaving me in my bed, still naked and alone.

This will have to do. If I want to be with him, I’ll just have to settle with being his “really close friend”.


I sat on the couch with my legs propped up on the coffee table in front of me. A new episode of my favorite show just started and I held a cup of tea close to my face, letting the steam warm my nose. Strings music played through the speakers of the tv as a heart-wrenching scene played. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I clenched my hands around the warm mug in anticipation.

My phone, which was sat in my lap, buzzed and caused me to rip my eyes away from the emotional scene that played on the tv. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and lifted the device to my face and saw a name which made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.

Jungkook: Wanna get lunch?

I smiled at his question as heat rose to my cheeks. So he does want to do more than have sex with me, he actually wants to spend time with me.

I put down my cup of tea to make it easier to reply back.

Me: yeah sure. Where are we going?

I watched the screen and anticipated his response when I saw the bubble with three dots appear in the feed to tell me he was typing.

Jungkook: I really want a burger from that one place by your apartment.

Despite his vague description, I knew exactly the place he was talking about since they were known throughout the city for their incredible burgers.

Me: do you wanna meet there?

I typed back.

Jungkook: No, I’ll come get you and we can walk together

His response was almost instant.

Me: okay

I replied to him then bolted up from the couch and ran to my room. I went to my full-length mirror to assess the situation and decide how much I needed to do to be presentable. My hair was sticking out in every direction since I hadn’t been bothered to brush it when I woke up. Or wash it. I was wearing an oversized worn out shirt that once had a logo on it but it was no longer decipherable. It also had holes in it and god knows what caused those to show up. I was also only wearing my underwear and they weren’t the kind I would want to flaunt for Jungkook either. Clearly, there was some work to be done.

It would take him about 15 minutes to walk from his apartment to mine so that meant a shower was out of the question. I tamed my bird’s nest with a hairbrush then doused it with a decent amount of dry shampoo before pulling it into a messy bun. I threw off my ratty shirt and changed my underwear to a nice lacey pink pair (cause you never know what a lunch date could turn into). I put on a gray sweater and a pair of leggings then pulled on my favorite black boots.

I went into the bathroom and sighed at the sight of the massive bags under my eyes. I quickly put on a layer of foundation to hide those, did my eyebrows and put on a couple coats of mascara. This would have to be good enough.

Just as I was giving myself a final glance over in the full-length mirror, there was a knock at the door. I took a deep breath then walked out of the bathroom and to the front door.

Jungkook was wearing a white t-shirt, blue skinny jeans, a black beanie, and a pair of timberlands, an outfit that I have seen him in numerous times but he somehow always looked great in.

“Hey Y/N,” he shoved his hands into his pocket and smiled, making his eyes turn into glimmering half moons, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me grab my bag.”

We arrived at the crowded restaurant during the lunch rush. Jungkook escorted me to a two person table near the back of the restaurant, away from the hustle and bustle. He grabbed two menus and handed one to me before opening the other and scanning the options.

“Have you ever been here?” He asked while looking at the menu.

I opened my menu and examined the array of options in front of me, “No I haven’t but I’ve  I heard the cheeseburgers are really good.”

He nodded, “Maybe I’ll get that.”

I looked over the meals and settled, “I think I will too.”

We both closed our menus just as the waitress walked over to the table and placed a glass of water in front of both of us. She was a young girl, probably around my age. She had long shiny brown hair that was paired with chocolate brown eyes and flawless olive skin.

“How are you two doing today?” She asked cheerily, looking at me before Jungkook.

When her eyes settled on him, they widened and she gasped lightly, “Jungkook!”

I looked at Jungkook whose entire face lit up and was filled with more joy than I had ever seen. He stood up and wrapped an arm around the waitress’s shoulder, “Hey Krystal!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close while giggling. A pang of jealousy sprung through me as I watched the two, clearly close friends reconnected.

“How are you?!” Jungkook broke away and asked her enthusiastically.

“I’m great!” She said as he sat back down. Her gleaming, smiling eyes wandered over to me, “is this your-”

“Friend,” Jungkook cut her off quickly. My eyes shot over to him as did hers. He was looking at her, “she’s my friend.”

The taste of bitterness filled my mouth and I clenched my jaw to hide my abhorrence towards that word.

She looked back at me with a friendly smile, “I’m Y/N,” I plastered a fake smile on my face.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Krystal,” she cleared her throat and stood up straight, “Can I start you off with something to drink,” she asked both of us, getting back into her work mode.

“I’ll just have a Coke,” I told her.

“Same for me,” Jungkook agreed, “were ready to order too,” he looked at me.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” I told her as she wrote down my order then looked at Jungkook.

“I’ll have that too,” he took my menu and put it on top of his then handed them to Krystal.

“Okay! I’ll have those right out for you!” She gave one last sparkling, a little too nice smile then walked away.

Jungkook and I both watched her walk away then I turned back to him, “Who was that?”

His eyes were still looking at her while her back was turned to us and it wasn’t hard for me to guess what part of her body he was actually staring at.

“Huh?” He asked without moving his eyes.

“Who was that?” I asked a little louder with slightly more urgency.

He blinked then finally looked at me, “A friend.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and tilted my head to the side, “A friend?”

He nodded just as Krystal came back and put two glasses of soda in front of us.

Jungkook took a long drink of soda through his straw then looked at me. He slowly put the drink down and straightened his back, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“When you say she’s a friend you mean…” my skepticism of their relationship was very apparent.

He looked around clearly confused, “I mean she’s a friend. What else could I possibly mean by that?” He furrowed his brow.

“I’m also ‘a friend’,” I put air quotes around the word friend.

My implied question registered with Jungkook and he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and a smug smile went across his face, “Y/N are you jealous of Krystal?”

“No!” I bit back instantly and felt my cheeks warming.

He chuckled and shook his head, “she’s just a friend.” He reassured, “You’re my only friend,” he added extra emphasis to the word so the meaning wouldn’t get mixed up.

I nodded, “okay,” the anxiety in my stomach faded slightly and I took a sip of my Coke.

“Well, I mean,” he started, “she and I used to kind of have a thing,” he stated nonchalantly.

The soda in my mouth went down my throat involuntarily, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs, “Are you serious?! I spat at him angrily

He noticed my anger and leaned back in surprise, “it was really nothing, less serious than what you and I have,” his voice was flat, he clearly didn’t see why this information was upsetting, “We slept together twice… maybe three times,” He tried to defend himself.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I raged.

Jungkook retracted, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, “it was like a year ago… anything between us is over now,” He furrowed his brow and shook his head, “Why are you mad?” He asked quietly.

I raised an eyebrow at him, “because!” I scrambled to make up a reason that didn’t completely give away my jealousy, “because I don’t know where she’s been! What if I contracted something?!”

Jungkook bit his lip with a hint of humor behind his gaze, “Y/N, don’t you think if you contracted some sort of sexually transmitted disease from me, you’d know by now?”

I opened my mouth to refute his statement but all that came out was a string of stammers. Thankfully, Krystal came back to the table with our food in hand.

“If you need anything, let me know,” she said a little too kindly to Jungkook.

I grabbed the burger in front of me off of the plate and took a massive bite out of it to bide myself time before I had to say anything else to him.

We sat silently eating our food for a couple minutes and then Jungkook cleared his throat, “Look, Y/N, I know I joked before but I want you to know that what happened with Krystal and me, it’s in the past. It’s done.” he said sincerely.

I swallowed a mouthful of food, “why did end?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Honestly, we just kinda faded, we kept in touch for a little while but once school started again, we didn’t have time to see each other so we just gradually stopped talking.”

I nodded, fully understanding the situation.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he told me kindly.

Despite his nice words, anger rose inside me. Why was he talking to me the way a boyfriend would talk to his girlfriend? I’m not his girlfriend and he made it very clear to me that he didn’t want me to be his girlfriend, so why is he treating me this way?

“You don’t need to worry about how I feel, you know,” I pointed out bitterly.

“What do you mean?” He turned his head to one side.

“That’s like a rule of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you don’t need to care about my emotions. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything, you don’t need to explain yourself,” I crossed my arms over my chest and downplayed my irritation.

“Even if that is the rule, I still care about you,” he mumbled.

I shrugged and chewed my lip, not trusting the stability of my voice. The fact that it was cloudy what his feelings for me were, upset me more than I could express, but I didn’t want him to know that.

He looked at me with concern as he thought of something more to say, but he said nothing. After taking one last sip of soda, Jungkook wiped his hands then cleared his throat, “I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” he told me then got up.

Almost as soon as he walked away, Krystal walked over to the table, smiling.

“So,” she said while squatting down and resting her arm on the table, “How’s Jungkook doing?” she asked innocently.

I sighed then slapped on the most genuine looking fake smile I could muster. Even if what happened between them was over, even if they really are just friends, I don’t like this girl.

And why did I get the feeling that she was gonna be around for a while?

Shout out the anon who gave me the idea for this part! I was in a bit of a writing slump but I’ve got some new ideas and I’m excited to share them!

As always, I love feedback and new requests

Thanks for Reading! xx