advocacy: have some perspective, don’t throw your own people under the bus
I’ve seen a lot of discourse lately about how Blizzard is handling Emily/Tracer wrong - how there’s no sign of it in the game, etc. etc. And there isn’t, yet. There isn’t any sign Tracer is gay in the actual game, so it’s fair comment. I’ve also seem what is pretty unfair conclusions about why this is thrown around, I’ve seen really nasty snark disguised as witty criticism., and it… leaves a bad taste in my mouth, really.
A very close friend of mine works in an AAA studio. She’s worked in gaming for 10 years. She literally works herself to the bone trying to push social justice in games - and it’s like pushing a fucking boulder uphill forever, let me tell you. I’ve watched what this tireless advocacy is doing to her. Nevertheless, she keeps going.
It’s because of people like my friend that Overwatch exists - people who have persistently, tirelessly, at threat to their relationships, livelihoods and careers advocated for diversity and representation in games.
I can only imagine how fucking hard it’s been to change the culture in Blizzard into a company where they publish an AAA game that is as diverse as Overwatch. It’s because of people like my friend, allies, and other supportive people that we have Overwatch at all.
Let’s review some of the great things about the game: a variety of diverse races, ethnicities and identities - consultation was pretty fucking good for most of those. And they listen to our comments about what’s missing, too. We didn’t like that Pharah’s VA wasn’t Egyptian, so what did they do? They got an Egyptian VA living in Egypt to voice Ana. We didn’t like the lack of black characters, and they’ve promised more, and the latest new character is an Omnic created by child genius Efi who is black - and they got a black woman for Orisa’s VA.
Blizzard has handled female characters very well. We complained after they’d released their initial characters that the body type of the female characters was generic and not diverse. So what did they do? They gave us Zarya and Mei. We complained that Tracer was being objectified in one of her poses. What did they do? They changed the fucking pose. They have given us a Muslim single mum who’s 60 old, still a soldier, has sexual agency and is more than just her role as ‘Mum’. The spread of female characters isn’t 16-25 as per most games that have female protagonists, but 19-60, with the majority of them being in their 30s, and that is fucking great.
And all of this is aside from the fact that Tracer - the face of the fucking game - is canon, confirmed lesbian in those words by both the devs and in ¾ of a big major comic. She’s in a healthy adult relationship. Plus, there’s more to come. We know more characters are queer, too.
There’s probably more stuff to add, but off the top of my head - how great is this fucking game?????
Now, it’s not to say that all of this has been done perfectly - there’s always room for improvement. They always could do things better. But the tone of some of the posts I’ve read is as if none of this exists. As if Blizzard has spat in our faces, somehow, by not having Tracer have mentioned Emily in the game yet. The anger, the entitlement, the mockery.
You’re mocking probably a bunch of queer people, people of colour and women who have pushed and pushed and pushed the gaming industry for decades in order to get a game like Overwatch. You’re mocking people like my friend who has slogged her fucking guts out to get what we’ve got in the games her company produces. Can you imagine what it must be like for those people, responsible for these changes in Blizzard and in the industry, to read people bitching about the fact Tracer doesn’t say anything about Emily (yet) when they’ve pushed so fucking hard just to get what we’ve gotten?
Do you realise how horribly ungrateful and rude that sounds? You may not be aiming your criticism at these people, but they’re among us. They read social media. They’re real people with real feelings.
Can we please have some appreciation for just how far Overwatch has taken diversity in games? Because there’s a bunch of minority folks behind this push, mark my words.
This post is not to discourage criticism, but please, please think of the tone of voice you give it in. Don’t be cruel or unfair. Don’t mock. Don’t be ungateful, please.
“It’s as if Emily doesn’t even fucking exist, I wonder why that is lollllll fucking blizz” works so much better as “Hey Blizz, I love that Tracer has a girlfriend! Let’s have Tracer mention Emily in the game? :D”
There are ways to deliver suggestions and feedback that don’t shit all over the people who’ve worked so hard to bring this game to you. Please take an extra 5 seconds to consider not sounding entitled and awful, and think about how else you could deliver this feedback so you’re not hurting the people who have worked their whole lives so you have it <3
Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!
Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.
The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.
“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.
He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.
“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.
“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”
It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.
“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”
Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.
“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”
That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.
“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.
Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.
“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”
Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.
“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.
Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.
Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.
Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?
This would certainly be a long night.
Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.
“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.
“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”
“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”
Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.
“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”
Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.
This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay. Baz thought.
He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.
Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.
Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.
A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.
“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.
It was a mistake.
Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.
Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.
“Baz. Why are we like this?”
“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.
The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.
“Why do we hate each other?”
Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.
“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume.
He was getting annoyed.
Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.
This was a mistake.
Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”
“Welcome to the real world.”
“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.
He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.
“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.
Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.
“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”
Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.
“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.
“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.
Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.
Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.
“S-simon?” He managed.
“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”
“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”
Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.
“I don’t know.”
They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?
Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.
Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.
Physically and mentally, he froze.
Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.
Why did Simon care about him?
Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?
Why were they holding hands in a bed?
What the fuck was happening?
Why were they not kissing?
They should kiss.
He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.
I have no idea what in the shitting hell is going on.
ESPECIALLY yesterday. WHY did all these professionals ascending onto Louis’ property look like a play put on by aliens about how to Human™?
Like, “Here I am, I’m the doctor man! With my doctor tool!”
“I am in my lawyer suit with my lawyer papers because I’m a very important lawyering man.”
“I"m the coffee man doing my coffee job, standing out of the way, for that pap on the lawn!”
“I’M THE MOTHERFUCKIN DOGGG TELLIN Y'ALL TO GET YA NASTY ASSES AWAY FROM MY BOIIIIII”
I don’t really have any answers except that all of this is
It is so over the top and extra…I just really don’t even know what to say. It is a fact that the paparazzi are called for 90% of the shots you will ever see. The airport pap was called, presumably I feel, to capture them in their Tweedle Dumb and Dumber jumpsuits, which is fine because it’s clear that they are both under some sort of arrangement with Vetements. The return of what’s her face isn’t that surprising given that she was pictured with Gigi for official Tommy Hilfiger promo months ago and Zayn and Louis are still both, as far as I know, under Syco, so it would make sense that they roped their beards in together, and that they would use them for mutual promotion with TH. Maximum exposure required Zayn and Louis’ participation clearly. Louis recently followed Tommy Hilfiger on Twitter so it’s just like breadcrumb trail of stuntness that is right in front of everyone.
There is so much overwhelming evidence to support that this was all planned. I don’t know about the hoodrats jumping them at LAX being real or fake, but I imagine that the “scuffle with the paps” was intentional, thus giving way to Dan fuckin W’s article about Louis’ mental stability and then the comment from the Desperado of Calabasas about him “not being himself”…this seems like a terribly drawn out and horrible season finale that everyone’s just tuning into out of fuckin obligation to the years they’ve invested in the show.
It’s just…sad. It’s really sad for people who have bothered to look beyond the headlines, which are fabricated by yellow journalists and shitty PR people to build a narrative that is not true, and who know that this is the last thing that someone like Louis Tomlinson deserves. He deserves exactly none of this shit.
Not to continuously bring it up, and I wish I didn’t have to, but what I wrote about this subject over a year ago now is more relevant than ever. And that’s extremely depressing. If you haven’t read these, then hopefully you will and they can shed some insight into what I believe is actually happening behind the scenes.
Plot: 2 assholes play Cards Against Humanity together. One asshole is an excellent kisser and the other is the worst fucking editor in the world.
Or rather: we are both youtubers and you are the worst fucking editor ever, and so you accidentally included a clip from our collab you uploaded where we made out and people don’t know we’re a thing yet, as requested (and thought of!) by me.
Warnings: This is just…unlike my writing style. Wrote this whilst drunk, probably, because I don’t remember writing this, at all.
Notes: Yes, I did go out of my way and spend 1 hour + on making a fake YouTube channel and video for this drabble/fic. Was it worth it? Probably not, but here’s Yoongo’s channel.
2 ASSHOLES PLAY CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY w/ Y/N UPLOADED BY: yoongi 28TH MARCH, 2017.
despite being a youtuber with over seven million subscribers to make up for it, min yoongi is the absolute worst at his job. you’d think that being paid so much every week and being invited to vip events and having thousands- close to millions- of fans making twitter accounts with your name squished into them, and seeing your face on billboards or whatever, would act as enough motivation for yoongi to put in a tiny bit more effort.
don’t get me wrong– yoongi works hard. he uploads twice a week (thursdays and sundays, for those who wanted to know!), and always puts out fresh and most of the time, original content. a musical prodigy, as some people called him, and others called him unique, entertaining, different, inspiring. some called him mediocre and basic, but against yoongi’s strong fan base, none of that mattered. even without the fanbase, yoongi still didn’t give two damns about what anybody had to say against him. and with the success he has, he doesn’t need to be worried about anything or anybody else just yet.
but, you’d think that because of his success and picture-perfect life captured by an expensive camera and posh lenses (hey, the fact that yoongi is so well liked despite not attempting to even out his flaws with light boxes and filters or makeup products is impressive), he’d try that extra bit harder when it came to creating content he enjoys putting out into the world. especially editing videos- including ones where forgetting to edit out one tiny, tiny clip could result in thirty new scandals and his name being in the media longer than it has to be.
because min yoongi, despite his magical fingers and creative mind when it comes to creating the video itself, is the absolute worst at editing videos. he just can’t be bothered to watch the same clips over and over again. and, even though you may not like it, you’re suffering at the hand of his poor editing skills.
BTS Reaction to Their Bestfriend Accidently Confessing to Them; Suga (Part Two)
A/N: This is a continuation from the “Accidental Confession” series under Suga’s route! Hope you enjoy my lovelies -Admin Germane :3
Word Count: 1567
It was around four in the morning the next time Yoongi came to visit you two weeks later. Dressed in sweats, a tee, and an old worn out hoodie, he let himself into your apartment using the spare key that you kept underneath the flowerpot you placed by your door. He kicked off his shoes and locked the door behind him, wandering into your kitchen to hunt for an early morning snack. He yawned as the small fridge light illuminated his face, rubbing his drowsy eyes with a balled up fist wrapped in his hoodie sleeves. He grabbed the orange juice and drank straight from the carton. Yoongi could hear your voice scolding him in his mind and he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. He closed the fridge and looked around your dark house.
“Aish, Y/N, you need to do the dishes.” Yoongi sighed, observing the messy plates piled high in the sink. Sure, he himself wasn’t responsible with tidying up, but damn it all if you didn’t live in a clean and comfy home. You deserved to be surrounded by comfort and luxury. But that’d be a conversation for later.
He wandered down the hall and softly opened the door to your bedroom. You slept like the dead, and he wasn’t worried about you waking up, but he still didn’t want to disturb you. His lips contorted into a small smile and his heart skipped a beat when he saw you sleeping; your legs balled up close to you, the sheets scrunched in your hands and the fluffy blankets surrounding you in a cocoon of warmth.
“Y/N, what are you doing to this tough guys heart?” Yoongi mumbled to himself, a playful tone laced in his words as he carefully pulled out a change of pajamas from the top drawer of your dresser; his reserved space. He went into your on-suite, changing quickly and removing his piercings and rings. He stared at his reflection carefully.
“Y/N would fuss if she saw your eyes like this Min, you gotta stop staying out so late.” he mumbled to himself, running the tip of his finger over the purple outlines under his eyes. But he knew he wouldn’t stop, besides, it gave him a reason to stay at your place. He went back into your room and climbed carefully into the empty side of your bed, burrowing under the covers and moving closer to the warmth you emitted.
“Hey, Y/N.” Yoongi whispered, gently shaking your shoulder. You groaned softly, and Yoongi assumed that you were conscious enough to listen for at least thirty seconds.
“Just letting you know I’m here, alright.” he said, pulling you into his arms as he settled down into the mattress. You groaned again and he smiled down at you. He gently stroked your hair until your breathing steadied out again. Yoongi sighed and kissed your forehead gently, nudging his head down into your chest and throwing a leg over your thigh.
“Love you Y/N, good night.” he whispered, wishing that you knew the true meaning behind his words.
You woke up with the sun shining in your face and your alarm going off in the background. You heard an annoyed sigh, a few curses and the alarm was shut off almost instantly and you felt something nudge themselves closer to you. You opened your eyes slowly and found Yoongi snuggling your body to death. You smiled and rolled your eyes; this wasn’t the first time you’d waken up to Yoongi in your bed. Sometimes he was just too lazy to make a bed up on your couch, so he’d climb in with you instead.
You reached your arms up to stretch, content to start the day but your bed mate had different ideas. Yoongi whined when you moved away from him, following your movements and rubbing his cheek against your arm like how a cat would mark their scent on their owners.
“No…stay in bed with me. You’re too warm and soft to let go…just go back to sleep.” he whined and you could feel your heart melt in your chest. You sighed, settling back down and running your fingers through his hair. You could hear Yoongi hum in content, almost as if he was purring.
“Yoongi, what time did you come here?” you asked softly a few minutes later. Yoongi groaned in annoyance and opened one bleary eye to stare up at you.
“I don’t know, four-ish?” he mumbled, closing his eye. You tsked and flicked his forehead.
“Yah! Y/N!” he whined, “Why do you do this to me?”
“Because you can’t keep doing this Yoongi, you need to sleep to live.”
“I get my rest with you, what’s the problem?” he asked, sitting up and stretching since his sleep was rudely interrupted.
“I may not always be around Yoongi, you can’t just rely on me being here.”
“Why wouldn’t you be here Y/N?” Yoongi questioned.
“I don’t know, but I may not be. I could be out with friends, or with a guy or-”
“Don’t say that.” Yoongi mumbled, pulling up the sheets to wrap them around his body.
“I’m just stating the obvious Yoongi. You’re not the only guy in my life.” you pointed out. You saw Yoongi frown and he burrowed deeper into his blankets.
“I know…but I am the most important, right?” he questioned, looking up at you with wide puppy dog eyes. Your heart seemed to burst in your chest, damn Yoongi and his effective aegyo.
“Yes, yes you are, and I love you very much.” you assured, ruffling his hair and getting up from the bed. You headed into the kitchen to start breakfast and you sighed.
“If only you truely knew, Yoongi. You pabo.” you muttered, turning on the stove and taking out the eggs and butter from the fridge.
“What do I need to truely know?” Yoongi’s voice startled you so much that you dropped the egg that you were holding, splattering shells and yolk all over the floor.
“Shit, sorry.” Yoongi muttered, walking over to you to help clean up the mess.
“Don’t you know you can’t sneak up on people like that?” you scolded, playfully smacking his shoulder.
“Geez, I’m just getting abused by you today.” he teased, throwing away the mess and sitting on one of the bar stools, helping himself to the brewed coffee. You rolled your eyes and continued with your cooking, frying up the eggs and popping toast in the toaster.
“So what were you saying about things I need to know?” Yoongi mumbled sleepily, using one hand to prop up his head and the other holding the coffee cup.
“Nonya.” you said
“None ya buisness.” you stuck your tongue out at him and he flicked a sugar packet into your arm.
“C'mon, we know everything about each other. Just tell me.” he pressed. You sighed and shook your head.
“What if I tell you something you don’t know? Hmm?” Yoongi tempted, a lazy smile etched on his face. You looked over at him and raised your eyebrow at him.
“We can even say it at the same time?” he offered, getting up from the barstool to stand in front of you. Yoongi knew this would be a risk, confessing to you in this way, but he was curious and decided it would be worth it.
“On three?” you asked and Yoongi nodded.
“One.” he started.
“Two.” you said.
“Three.” Yoongi took a deep breath.
“I love you.” you both said at the same time. Both your eyes widened and you could feel your heart beating fast in your ears.
“You love me?” you asked softly.
“The real question is; you love me?!” Yoongi asked, clearly shocked, taking a step closer to you.
“Well…yeah? I mean, I thought it was obvious, I let you sleep in my bed for gods sake.” you laughed to yourself and Yoongi blushed.
“Yeah sure, but you said-”
“I only said because you said sister first.” you cut him off, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, blushing yourself. Yoongi coughed.
“So, umm,” he started, but a loud yawn cut him off. You laughed and shook your head.
“You should go back to bed.” you suggested.
“You’re right, I should.” Yoongi agreed. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, rubbing his hand over your ass possessively.
“Yoongi?” you giggled.
“You said go back to bed, and I’m taking my love with me. How else do you expect me to get any sleep?” he admitted, throwing you onto the bed and climbing under the covers with you. You shook your head and allowed him to cuddle back into your torso, wrapping his arms and legs around you.
“Hey, look at me?” Yoongi asked. You looked down at him and your eyes blew open when Yoongi pecked your lips. The blush returned onto your cheeks and Yoongi gave you the most satisfied smile in the world.
“Don’t expect to be leaving this bed anytime soon.” Yoongi told you, gracing your lips, cheeks, and nose with kisses.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.” you told him, leaning down to return your unrequited love for Yoongi with a kiss of your own.
Both your hearts finally lost the “one-sided” grief that they had once felt, and neither of you were going back to that feeling for a long, long time
FIRST AND FOREMOST LEMME JUST LET YA’LL KNOW MY INTENSE EXCITEMENT TO BE
INVOLVED IN ROUND 2 OF THE NEGAN WRITING CHALLENGE. Second of all, huge thank
you to @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash@negans-network for creating this awesome concept!
chose the prompt Coach Negan with an OC of colour (Latina/Hispanic). Also, to
avoid anyone accusing me of sexualising my own race again, I AM HISPANIC AND DO
NOT ENJOY BEING SEXUALISED BECAUSE OF IT.
Teacher/Student relationship, student is of legal age in the UK and the US
(18). Racism, rough sex, daddy kink, teacher kink, slight sub/dom relationship, breath play.
@l-tay said: Okay, so remember when Zach said he was disappointed he didn’t have any compliments in his bag? May I request one where Y/N overheard that and noticed he actually seemed Down about it so she decided to slip meaningful compliments into his bag and he goes out of his way to figure out who it was?
ZACH X READER
Peer Communications class was a bit of a nerve wracking class. No topic was off limits and anything said was allowed, as long as you weren’t bullying a fellow student or just being plain hateful. But then there was the Compliment Bag rack. Every student had a bag where others could drop anonymous notes in them to brighten one’s day. And while it was meant to be a kind gesture, it also gave others a bit of anxiety when no compliments were dropped in theirs.
Take Zach, for example. Cute, tall and adorable Zach Dempsey. One would think he would have numerous compliments in his bag given his jock status, but after overhearing a brief conversation with another student you find out the popular boy doesn’t get a single one. Which is a shame, really, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.
“Dempsey? Really?” Tony chuckles. “I did not think he was your type.”
Laughing nervously, you shrug. “He’s.. cute. And nice. He’s nothing like Monty or Justin or even Bryce.” You shiver, Walker’s name leaving your lips with such distaste. “And honestly, you don’t see him after he checks his compliment’s bag only to find it empty. It’s such a heartbreaking expression.”
I mean. Adam doesn’t usually get hurt by ronan so much as he gets annoyed. disappointed. pissed. He never lets ronan’s venom actually get to his veins, he’s too busy telling him how unnecessary the flash of fang is. ronan on the other hand. like. he’s easy to hurt. adam would never in his life want to hurt ronan (it’s his honest to god nightmare) but I think ronan works himself into such a despair at the smallest jealousies and perceived injustices that adam could make one careless comment and ronan would fixate on it
who is emotionally stronger?
ohhhh adam. it’s adam. He’s been dragging so much emotional rubble for so long that he’s built up a tolerance. strong is like The Most adam adjective that I can think of. ronan never had to get to adam’s level of detachment and dissociation bc the first 15 years of his life were gorgeous and easy, and he’s still growing into his protective shell. Adam had to be born in his
who is physically stronger?
it’s ronan tbH he has the upper body strength of a boxer and the broad shoulders of a lynch (but also adam has clever hands and muscular thighs from years of biking everywhere and he can handle himself)
who is more likely to break a bone?
ouch. They’re both capital R Reckless when they’re together and they have some brutal years under their belts. adam has some poorly set knobbly fingers and ronan has an old snapped clavicle that took forever to heal and constantly bruised knuckles so like. idk. In the future, when adam parrish has escaped from his childhood prison, I’d like to think that they both get ugly minor injuries from doing joyful ramp and dolly and shopping cart type activities only
who knows best what to say to upset the other?
surprisingly difficult question to answer bc I mean. It’s ronan. but is it? he systematically winds people up and adam is so deeply irritated by him that he straight up walks away, but also adam can be ice cold?? it’s so easy to get to ronan. They both fumble and call each other mean names when they want to compliment each other it’s a big mess
who is most likely to apologize first after an argument?
holy shit would you believe neither??? the most stubborn humans on this earth!! record holders!! we got some emotional repression folks! hooooo boy
adam never starts arguments for no reason so he’s always thinking it through and coming to the conclusion that he’s in the right?? surprise he ain’t apologizing
meanwhile ronan can’t stop being cruel even though he knows it’s hurting people, it’s this vicious self-protective instinct that hurts so good and so wrong. and then his pride gets in the way once he’s cooled down. but he will come to st agnes on his knees and grab adam’s hand and try to make it clear that he’d step on his own pride on the way to adam’s door
who treats who’s wounds more often?
sad & unfortunate :(( adam treats ronan’s solely bc ronan doesn’t know how the fuck to treat an injury and also ‘none of them wanted to hurt adam parrish’, so ronan’s got his stupid pointless anger related scrapes and adam’s got his anti-bacterial gel and they are a dream team
who is in constant need of comfort?
neither of them come out on top here man. They’ve had some shared harrowing experiences, and some separate trauma that they’re trying to tell each other about (if their stories could just stop. sticking. when they try to say them out loud). in v different ways, neither of their families are families. Ronan doesn’t let himself fall asleep, and he doesn’t let himself go through things, and the repression starts to calcify into cruelty like it did right after his father died. adam can’t stop thinking about gansey on the roadside, and he can’t be touched some days, most days. he can’t stop swimming or he’ll die. He can’t keep swimming or he’ll die. The gangsey is a critical support system made of so many weak beams
who gets more jealous?
are u fucking serious,,, it’s both of them pal. remember when every combination of his friends that didn’t include him made adam like. sick with jealousy. remember when ronan saw gansey talking on the phone with adam and wanted to put his hand through a wall. or when adam brought blue along on their quest and he spouted nasty shit the whole day. they both deeply want each others attention and they don’t seem to realize that they already have it? always?
who’s most likely to walk out on the other?
ohh god. oh man. oh boy. Here’s the thing. adam’s gonna walk away from ronan, but he’s not gonna walk OUT on him. he’s going to walk away because he’s not on a leash, he’s gonna spread those beautiful fucking self-made wings. And ronan is too!! in his own time he’s gonna build his own spaces that aren’t the barns and he’s going to realize what home means to him and they’re both gonna walk out the door and back but never close it behind them
who will propose?
a controversial topic! I’m on team adam for this one pals. I was on team ‘adam’s gonna kiss ronan first’ for a while before trk like a FOOL and I realized the error of my ways bc ronan is physical as fuck! and a risk-taker! of course he kissed adam smh. But a proposal? That’s a contract. That’s a speech. That’s a chess move. Ronan wouldn’t corner adam like that. Adam knows how ronan feels and more importantly he knows how HE feels himself, and I think one day ten years into their relationship the practicalities are gonna beckon and he’s gonna look ronan in the back of the head while he’s sleeping and roll over into the curve of his spine and tell him he wants a ring on his finger
who has the most difficult parents?
omg… fuck off
who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public?
tactile bastards! both of them! ronan especially wants adam’s hands…., any which way he can get them. I mean. He will kiss adam’s hands when they’re at dinner at nino’s and he’ll hook their fingers together even for the 20 second walk from the BMW to monmouth’s front door like he LIVES FOR IT (adam feels nervy and exhilarated every time it’s gay)
who comes up for the other all the time?
i mean they’re always together so they don’t really bring each other up. if they’re not together they’re with gansey/blue/henry or even fox way babes/vancouver crowd etc and those ppl get real tired of it real quick. adam usually keeps his ronan related musings to himself though like he has self-control unlike… R.N.L. himself
who hogs the blankets?
ronan does tbh adam has never hogged anything in his life and ronan is a shit
who gets more sad?
an unfair Q, man. They’ve both had a super rough time, especially right post-trk?? those few months are hard. Ronan cries a lot. Adam gets numb and far away a lot. They have a lot to be sad about. (But more to be happy about. They made it. They honestly just stare at each other and laugh breathlessly and touch foreheads and hands and scars and can’t believe their luck)
who is better at cheering the other up?
I sorta said this with ronsey but I think ronan is THE BEST at doing dumb shit to take his mind off of things. Like all that stuff about making adam quiet and turning off the lists and anxieties in his head so that they can do smth mindless and dangerous? yeah that. memes and songs and poor decisions. depression whom?
who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
this never happens wtf they’re not really ‘playful slappers’ HOWEVER adam will glare at ronan so hard that it probably feels like a slap
who is more streetwise?
it reeeeally depends on your definition of streetwise?? Like if we’re talking survival it’s unquestionably adam. He can fix your car and bandage your wounds and figure out your taxes and make himself invisible and blend his accent into whoever’s around him. He’s wicked sharp and fast on his feet. But i mean. he can’t quite drive stick. and he wouldn’t be caught dead in the sort of underground that ronan ends up in. ronan is streetwise in terms of the actual street, and he knows the most brutal avenues a person can end up on, the real life nightmares that feel closest to the ones in his head. Ronan is smart enough to navigate the chaos, but adam is smart enough to avoid it altogether
who is more wise?
adam. easily. ronan is intelligent and instinctive and talented (or adam wouldn’t get him as well as he does) but adam is a genius and that look behind his eyes….. he’s lived about 1 billion times more than he should’ve by age 19
who’s the shyest?
neither of them are shy exactly they’re just buried under 9 surface level personalities that you have to crack open with your bare fuckin hands
but if you met either of them in the hallowed halls of aglionby you would think adam was shy and ronan was a rampant fuckwad so based on appearance?? adam. he keeps his head down.
who boasts about the other more?
as soon as adam is officially his bf ronan takes a ten year long victory lap he’s so embarrassing
who sits on who’s lap?
y’all. we all know ronan sits in adam’s. it’s a fact of life. he probably had a sexy dream about it when he was 17 and took his morning shower in holy water
Nothing had changed, nothing was different, and neither of the two had mentioned the passionate kiss in Betty’s bedroom, that warm fall morning.
And Betty was pissed.
Did it mean nothing? Was he just trying to calm her down? Did he regret it? Well I mean it was obvious that he did, the way he avoided her at all costs only seeing her in group settings.
Maybe that kiss didn’t mean anything to him, but to her? It was everything.
He had calmed her down with just the touch of his fingers on her shoulders, when he pressed his lips to hers she felt clarity, all of the stress and blur of her parents corrupting her mind was cleared and she could see everything for what it was.
“To be continued.” She had whispered in the floral print bedroom.
She wasn’t going to confront him about her feelings she had done that once already with Archie and it had blown up in her face. Never again.
So that’s what brought her here, sitting bundled up in her windbreaker shooting glares at the beanie wearing boy across from her, said boy doing anything to avoid her eyes.
“Well would you look at this? Who is this Motley Crue? Care to introduce me cousin?”
Everyone turned at the voice directed their way and nearly everyone gasped at the Jughead look alike standing cockily with his arms crossed adressing Jughead.
“Souphead.” Jughead grumbled, sighing he got up to embrace his apparent cousin.
There was obvious tension there, but the love was also prominent.
“Souphead?” Veronica laughed out loud “your name is souphead?”
The handsome teen, nodded lazily his long blonde hair shaking in the chill of the wind. He was really something to look at, same piercing blue eyes as Jughead, same facial structure and same lazy posture, the only difference was his long blonde locks, fairly similar to her own.
“It’s a nickname. Juggie Gave it to me when we were kids. It stuck, I guess.” Suddenly the boys eyes had caught on to hers and he was smirking
“And who is this ravishing creature? Aren’t you gonna introduce me cousin?” The blonde boy took her hand and kissed it. Betty blushed bright red and jughead practically ripped his cousin from her hand,
“That’s Betty and she’s not interested.” He growled causing souphead to quirk an eyebrow, oh this would be fun.
Affronted Betty glared at the boy in front of her
“I’ll decide who I am and am not interested in, thank you very much. It’s nice to meet you …soup head.” She smiled her brightest smile, purposely turning away from Jughead.
“Please beautiful, call me Dylan. It’s my real name after all.”
She giggled softly, flipping her blonde ponytail.
Jughead thought he might throw up, he was gonna rip every inch of his annoyingly persistent cousins hair out of his head. And Betty, what was she doing? Souphead was not her type, he knew Betty, she needed someone smart, someone who could keep up with her, someone who would be interested in her and her only. That was not souphead, he was worse than Archie.
He watched as the rest of the gang introduced themselves, Cheryl practically eating him alive with her eyes.
“So Dylan..” Cheryl started
“Call me souphead, Dylan is reserved for particular special people,” his eyes wandered over to Betty again, shooting her a wink.
Cheryl seemed physically shocked, no one chose Betty over her. A fact Jughead could never wrap his fingers around.
Dylan continued “speaking of special people, I heard from a few people that Betty cooper was the go to guide when it came to touring the school? Care to share, my beautiful blonde twin.”
Betty blushed again, glancing over to Jughead. He was pleading with his eyes. Don’t go with him, stay here. He’s nothing but trouble. It almost seemed as if she was going to say no, the way her eyes softened. But then
“Hey, if you’ve got a boyfriend you can say no, I totally get it.”
The soft look in Betty’s eyes glazed Over and they hardened again.
“No. no boys are interested in me, come on Dylan, let’s get to it.” She said determined, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the courtyard.
Kevin snorted from his left as Jughead stared with wide eyes and slack jaw.
“You messed up my friend.”
Archie slapped a hand to his shoulder, nodding sympathetically.
“Tough break pal.”
Shaking his friends hand off he hopped out of his seat. No way. He was not about to let Dylan souphead jones, steal his girl.
Up ahead Betty was walking next to Dylan laughing at a dumb joke he had made about Cheryl, when he abruptly stopped.
“You like my cousin?”
Betty reeled back
“I uhh.. I umm.”
“It’s okay, I see the way he looks at you. He likes you back, as much as I love messing with him, he’s been through a lot. I don’t want him getting hurt. Just so you know. I know karate.”
Betty giggled before sighing
“I appreciate your concern for your cousin, nut you don’t have to worry. He’s not interested in Me. He’s a good friend is all, I’m content to admire him from a far.”
Dylan smirked looking at something behind her head. “Not interested hmm?”
Suddenly the sharp baritone of her very favorite boys voice rang out from behind her.
“Hey!” It called.
Whipping around to see Jughead walking dangerously fast towards the pair, tripping on his always untied laces, her eyes widened.
“ what the he..?”
“Get away from her souphead, maybe your tricks work where you’re from but they aren’t gonna work on Betty, you’re not her type. She knows better that to let a player like you get in her head.” He was fuming and that just spurred Souphead on.
Betty opened her mouth to argue but the cousin beat her to it.
“What’s it to you Jughead? What she does doesn’t concern you? She’s a big girl she can make her own decisions.” Her smirked, throwing an arm over her shoulder
Jughead was practically shaking as he tugged on Betty’s hand pulling her out of his cousins hold.
“I care about her! What she does, does concern me. It’s Called consideration, loyalty. Both of which you apparently have none of.
Souphead gripped her other wrist tugging her back to him.
“dude she doesn’t have a boyfriend, I’m not being disloyal to anyone.” He smiled at Betty as she looked around nervously
“IM BETTY COOPERS BOYFRIEND OKAY?!” Jughead shouted loud enough l turn the heads of everyone in the hallway.
Instantly he shrunk low, wincing at the embarrassment.
“You are?” Betty whispered softly, shaking her hand from Dylan’s and moving to stand in front of him.
Jughead lifted his eyes to Betty’s and shrugged, smiling weakly
“Not quite the best way to ask huh?”
Betty just lifted her shoulders and smiled. Jughead sighed, placing his hands in either side of her face, getting lost in her sea green eyes
“I’m no good at this.. thing we have. But I know that I wanna be with you. I tried to push it aside because I didn’t want to get you involved in my ridiculous, drama filled life, but I can’t see you with someone else. It sucks. And I hate the way that it made me feel, so I guess I’m asking you.. do you wanna be my girlfriend? I totally get it it you..”
Betty cut off his rambling with a kiss to his lips
He melted into her, resting his hands on her waist and squeezing her into his body.
She pulled away smiling
“You’re an idiot Jughead jones.”
He laughed “I’m your idiot.”
“You’re my idiot.”
Souphead clapped from behind them
“Well my work here is done. What do you say about introducing me to that pretty black haired girl in the pearls? Veronica, I think her name was? I love the classy ones.”
Betty laughed resting her cheek on his chest as Jughead rolled his eyes.
Okay so a few months ago I read this fanfiction. In a few words IT WAS THE BEST YOONMIN FANFICTION I’VE READ IN THE ENTIRETY OF MY LIFE. It’s based on real events and the only thing I can say is that ever since I read it my brain is convinced that this actually happened between Yoonmin. If you haven’t read it I insist you do.
This fanfic describes how Yoonmin were in love since they met but hadn’t realized it until the period Yoongi had written/recorded First Love. The writer (Hello, by the way, if you are reading this! I hope you don’t mind me promoting your awesome work. I asked for permission in your comments, but if you have a problem just tell me and I’ll take it down.) bless them, talks about how the rest of Bangtan found out Yoongi and Jimin were in love before the two of them did. If I continue I probably won’t stop. So please read it! Especially if you are a Yoonmin stan.
So as I said, my fantasy world is set in a reality where this actually happened. And in this reality, (also in the fanfic, according to the time it’s placed in) Yoongi and Jimin got together on the day Yoongi recorded First Love. So that means that in this picture
they have just begun dating. *Reminder: This is all happening in my brain. I have formed my own reality. Nothing is true* Okay so, because my brain needed more of this story, I began putting real events into this fantasy world in a way that would seem like the two are actually together. Do you get me? Like, I’d watch/read whatever happened on twitter or in Bangtan Bombs, having in mind that the two of them were actually together. I’m weird I know. I hope I’m not the only one who does this, or else it’d be really awkward. Here are some of these moments.
*Credits to the owners*
I’d watch these and think that when they were filming this, they were actually together. It made my heart flutter every time. Again I hope other shippers do that too.
So, because I needed to convince my self that this fantasy world really existed, I began making audios, writing fics, drawing fanart based on this world. I wanted to make something like Behind The Scenes moments that didn’t actually exist. I hope anyone out there can relate. Yoonmin has taken over my life and it’s the only thing that occupies my mind ever since I read that fanfic.
During this period I’ve come up with the following. It’s more of a prompt for a fanfic. It’s extremely stupid but I can’t help my self.
*ALL THE FOLLOWING ARE FIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION! NOTHING REALLY HAPPENED!!*
So Yoonmin supposedly got together some time in August. Suga’s mixtape was released around that time (correct me if I’m wrong), but the songs were written long before. Here’s a fanfic that fits this story line. Then their WINGS comeback was in October. During that time Yoongi and Jimin were still exploring this new territory.
Their first time was some time in early November.
And the talk was in early December. I’m shit at writing fanfics but I’ll try my best to explain what was said during the talk. It went a little like this:
Yoongi and Jimin were lying on the couch in their dorm living room at night chatting about different things (because in reality that’s what Yoonmin loves to do with each other)
when Yoongi said.(for a second time that night)
“I can’t imagine my life without you” or “I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you.”
Jimin sat in silence for a while, scrunching up his nose (in that cute way he does) in confusion.
“Hyung, are you proposing?” he asked looking up at Yoongi. Yoongi was confused by the question but then said something like:
“I know we can’t get married in Korea, but if we could would, you marry me?” or like “I know it’s impossible because no1 we are idols no2 no one knows about us(*supposedly they hadn’t ‘come out’ to the rest of BTS, despite the fact that BTS knew they’d end up together before them*) and no3 we live in a country where marriage between men is not allowed, but lets say non of these were in the way. Would you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
And then Jimin kissed him softly and ran his fingers through Yoongi’s black hair.
“Of course I’d marry you, Yoongi. I love you way too much. And even if we can’t get married, I’d still want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what.” And they kissed again.
They exchanged gentle kisses for a couple of minutes until Jimin pulled back and said.
“Yoongi? I think we can.”
“What?” Yoongi asked, a little light-headed from Jimin’s kisses.
“I think we can get married. I have an idea.” Jimin said.
So Jimin explained his idea, that being them going to the United States for their Wings Tour and getting married there. They’d do it in private, just the two of them and a witness *they later decided on RM, because no1 he was the leader and deserved to know, no2 he wouldn’t judge them(none of the boys would but those were Jimin’s insecurities talking) and no3 he could speak english so they would be able to communicate with the people there*. They’d do it on their second day in New Ark, NJ, in the morning before they started getting ready for the concert. When I tell you I did research for this I’m not kidding. I literally looked up ‘how can gay couples get married in Newark?’. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.
“No one has to know. We won’t cause a scandal, because no one will find out. We’ll tell management that we went out to get coffee or whatever. We’ll just go and sign the papers. And in the future, if marriage gets legal back at home and we can be who we really are without fear, we can actually have a ceremony there.” Jimin said.
Anyways, during the next week they did their own research, filling out marriage license applications, talking with Namjoon (RM told them that they all knew and would all be present that day). Everything was settled before they left for the tour. They had even booked the appointment with the center.
Then I got inspiration and created this, which happened during their stop in NY before heading to Chile. During the rest of the tour they were pretty much occupied with rehearsals and sleep. They got the same room in hotels and, even though they were really tired every night, they always kissed each other good night and whispered a ‘saranghe’ before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
So as I said, this is all in my brain. I know it’s fake and I know that ‘of course Yoongi and Jimin aren’t getting married in real life and you are stupid for thinking it can actually happen.’ That’s what I told my self a week ago and I had almost forgotten about it, when Day 2 of the Newark concert came around and I saw this:
The photo was taken after their concert on their second day in Newark.
Then I noticed the ring on Jimin’s finger.
Jimin’s been wearing this ring for quite a while now, but the fact that it was on his fourth finger and the fact that Yoongi
had the same one on his fourth finger got me going crazy. Of course it’s a coincidence but I can’t help but think of this other reality. I’m mean, yes nothing’s real, but what if?
Anyways I wanted to share this, because
1. I wanted to know if anyone else in this world had the same thoughts (please tell me, I want to know)
2. I am Yoonmin trash and just can’t help it.
3. I hope someone writes a fanfic about this. I’d do it but I can’t write. And if you do let me know!
4. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore…
Anyways thanks for reading! I hope I didn’t tire you. But then again if I did you wouldn’t be reading this now. ;)
Have a wonderful rest of the day!! And enjoy this married couple.
Warnings: cursing, smut, Dom!Dean x Sub!Reader, a little fluff, use of kinky sex toy (dont want to ruin the build up), orgasm denial, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, getting dirty in Baby, it’s just smut yall, pure, unadulterated SMUT!
A/N: This is the third part to my Vegas trilogy! I have no plans of continuing this series any further! A huge thanks as always goes to @avasmommy224 for being my beta and her amazing reactions after she read it (i was worried it was too much)
Inspiration for this fic came from this song, used some of the lyrics as well ;) no copyright infringement intended!!
The next morning you were surprised to find Dean’s arms still wrapped tight around your body. You gently lifted the arm draped across your waist, only causing him to tighten his hold. He shuffled around on his side of the bed before trailing soft kisses down the back of your neck. “Dean, I really need to get up.” you giggled when the stubble from his jaw grazed over a sensitive spot on your neck.
“I’m really surprised you’re still here. I thought you’d be gone like you were last time. What changed?” His kisses suddenly stopped and his grip loosened before moving away from you completely. You turned around and faced him, splaying your fingers over the muscles in his stomach.
bitter and angry after Cas once again leaves on the Kelly Kline case. Except
here’s the real kicker. He left with her.
Dean is just as upset as you which leads to a rather unfortunate accident.
x Dean, Reader x Castiel
Warnings: just some rough smut, y’all
You’ve seen red maybe a handful of times in your life,
but this time takes the cake. Castiel, the angel you’ve been in love with since
day one, the angel you thought loved you back, ran off into the sunset with
Kelly Kline and her monster baby. He left you. Again. And you’re fucking pissed.
Dean’s in about the same frame of mind if his stomping
around the bunker like an overgrown toddler is any indication. The two of you
fall into a sort of pattern together. He’ll glare, you’ll mutter, he’ll stomp
around, you’ll throw things. Usually things you can find in Cas’s room. Like
that framed photograph of the two of you at the beach a couple of summers back.
The sight of it is enough to have you flinging it across his bedroom with
enough force Dean comes running in.
“Heard a loud crash,” he says. “Thought you were hurt.”
“Hurt?” Your laugh is bitter even to your own ears. “Why
would I be hurt? Because Castiel ran off with a pretty, smart, kind woman to go
play house for a little while? Because he abandoned me- us- yet again? Why would I be hurt about any of that?”
Dean looks you over a couple times. “Because she has
something you’ll never get?”
part of the valentines exchange for the @upperclassmennet written for the lovely @aronminyards :) i know
your favorite characters are aaron, matt and jean but i’d started writing this
and when i saw ur favorite pairing is andreil i just had to do this, hope u
like it !!
Neil Josten was not one to make
his birthday into a grand affair. In fact, he would have been fine if it
weren’t an affair at all. January 19 was just another day; the only thing that
made it remotely remarkable was that he’d created Neil Josten today. Neil
Josten, a bundle of well-crafted lies and half-truths. He knew he would never
be an honest man; he would always have a lie ready at the tip of his tongue,
but he was trying. He was trying to become something more than Neil Josten, the boy who came to the Foxes with only one
duffel to hold every one of his possessions. So, no, he didn’t exactly consider
January 19 to be of any significant importance.
If he had to celebrate a day, he
would’ve picked the day he forever said goodbye to Nathaniel Wesninski. When he
cut the one identity that tied him directly to the Butcher. When he made Neil
Josten a tangible reality rather than an imposter looking for a temporary
relief. When he decided, in front of multiple witnesses, the person he was and
who he wanted to be. When he made the conscious choice of accepting the family
he knew would always be by side, if only he let them be.
“You’ve come to a custody agreement on your own?” The judge put on her glasses as she looked over the mountain of paperwork in front of her.
“Yes your honor.” You and Bucky both nodded as you waited for her words.
“It all looks good to me.” She looked at the both of you over the top of her bifocals. “And your property?”
“We divided it without dispute.” You were trying to remain calm as your whole life was being split down the middle in a stuffy courtroom. It didn’t seem fair. You got the house and your car and a guarantee of child support every month. But none of that would replace the feeling of losing your husband.
“That’s true, Mr. Barnes?” She turned her gaze to Bucky.
“That’s true.” He nodded, his hands folded in front of his body.
“Then I see no need to delay. Let’s move on through all of this and we’ll grant the divorce.” Your heart sank with her words. So this was it.
The reader has built up walls around her heart, but Jughead is determined to break them down. Based on the requested song: World Behind My Wall by Tokio Hotel
Warnings: Mentions of abusive parenting, homelessness
A/N: I’m a terrible person.
they’re telling me
i believe them
but will I ever know
Dreams are a funny thing. They either show you what you want to see, or something you never want to experience. You weren’t exactly sure where Jughead Jones fit into the equation, but he was there nonetheless.
You hadn’t known Jughead that long either, truth be told you’ve only had one, maybe two conversations with him about schoolwork, but your brain must have taken a liking to him because every night, there he was.
It was the same every night. You and him would be looking up at the stars, and he would lift his hand and point to the brightest one.
‘That one was made for you,’ he would say, ‘the light in the darkness.’
I couldn’t seem to keep ahold of anything else from the dream, except that moment.
You didn’t really mind being asleep all that much, it was better than being awake.
A part of you felt like it was fate, that maybe these dreams were because you were connected spiritually or maybe you were even soul mates.
Or then it also might just be because you’re sleeping where he was just a few weeks ago. That’s right, you were homeless. Well, you could probably go stay with your aunt and uncle, but they lived all the way across town, and you would have to go to a different high school and that was not an option. Rumour had it is that Jughead was staying under the stairs for a while after the drive-in closed, until he went to go live with his best friend Archie. It seemed too perfect that your parents had to be assholes at the exact same time an abandoned place opened up right in the middle of the school.
Not even a day after Jughead had gotten all of his stuff out, you moved in.
It had been a long time coming, though, even you had to admit. Your parents weren’t the best, always out late, always working, always drinking. They never seemed to be sober anymore, always ignoring their real problems. They had probably cheated on each other so many times they lost count. They were emotionally abusive, picking on you for every little thing you did wrong in their eyes. Only problem was, you never knew which version of a parent you were going to get, so it was impossible to please them all the time. You had started staying out later to avoid them, your grades dropped to B’s and C’s instead of A’s because of your busy schedule, and when you came home with a tattoo on your 18th birthday that you had been talking about for the past three years, they about lost their shit, and said that they didn’t know you anymore. They said if that’s the way you were going to repay them for everything they had done for you then you might as well leave, so you did.
You didn’t have very many friends, at least none that you were extremely close to that you could ask to stay with as you just genuinely tried to be nice to everyone, and you very well didn’t want to live on the streets, so the school closet it was. It was four walls, and that’s all you needed.
You woke up early, just like every day for the past two weeks, to shower and get dressed before the rest of the school arrived. You stop your alarm clock for the 5th time and drag yourself out of bed. You grab your shampoo and towel and open the door. You’re still rubbing your eyes, when you run face first into a wall.
You step back to orientate yourself, when you realize that there wasn’t a wall there, there never had been. You open your eyes all the way to see none other than Jughead Jones staring back at you.
“Uhm.. hi.” is all you manage to mutter out, not sure what to do. You’re basically a deer in the headlights.
“Who are you?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I’m (Y/N), the new homeless person living under the stairs! Didn’t you hear? The front desk is renting it out, 10 bucks a night!” you exclaim, trying to make light of the situation. Making fun of yourself and laughing at things is how you’ve learned to deal with everything, because as long as people were laughing with you they wouldn’t be laughing at you. (Y/N) was your name and sarcastic humor was your game.
“What?” he asks, not really getting the joke.
“I’m Harry Potter, I’m living the dream, pretend you never saw me.” you tell him, turning towards the showers to try to make a speedy exit.
“Oh no you don’t.” Jug says, grabbing your arm before you make it too far, “I know this routine all too well.”
“What routine?” you play dumb. You were a very observant person, always listening to things happening around you. Archie and his gang were famous around here, or at least that’s what it seemed like. You couldn’t help it if you got to school early every day to avoid your parents and just so happened to overhear his conversation with Archie about his living situation. It was all timing and coincidences.
“Are you living here?” he asks, an odd look of concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, the last guy couldn’t keep up with rent, so I thought it was a steal.” you joke, cracking a small smile.
He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you, no smile. It’s completely silent in the hall, and you swear that if a pin dropped, you would be able to hear it. Your smile disappears.
“All right, all right, I get it. ‘But (Y/N) can’t you go home? Don’t you have family? It would be so much better if you could just get along with your parents,’” you mimic, “I don’t have time for this. I have to shower before the sane people who get to wake up at normal times start arriving.” you tell him, finally taking your arm away from his grip.
You walk away from him, not turning around, because you know that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him everything.
That night you lay down to sleep, hoping that he will be there to greet you.
one day i will be
ready to go
see the world behind my wall
Lunch time was the only time you could be alone. You enjoyed the time, being able to sit and observe others, make up stories about what’s going on in their minds. You always imagined that their lives were actually put together. You loved to daydream. Sometimes you would sit and observe and daydream about having a best friend, someone to rely on. Of course, you had a few friends, you were nice to everyone, but you were always someone’s second choice. All of your friends seemed to have better best friends. A best friend and a not shit family was the most prominent thought in your mind, and so that’s what your daydreams consisted of.
You pick at your food, unable to eat most of it from the cafeteria. You had been getting free meals since you can remember, your parents not bothering to fill out any paperwork. The school just assumed you were poor, but it was food, so you couldn’t complain.
You’re in the middle of making up a story for a couple sitting on a blanket under a tree when a figure appears in front of you, casting a shadow over your face and blocking the view.
“Hey, this is quality TV, what are you doing?” you tease, motioning for them to move. Only when your eyes move up to meet theres do you realize that it’s Jughead Jones.
You roll your eyes, managing to smile slightly at the look he’s giving you. It’s almost like he was a disappointed, concerned husband.
He didn’t say anything, only sat down and started to eat his lunch. Since he didn’t respond you just kind of stare at him, and then look around to see if any of his friends are in this lunch period, and sure enough: Betty and Ronnie, Archie, and Kevin are all there.
So why was Jughead sitting with you?
Maybe he just wanted to be nice, because after all, he did just discover you the other day living in a closet in the school. This was probably his way of trying to be nice to you or something, so you let it pass. It was probably nothing in his eyes anyway.
At least, that’s what it seemed like for the first day.
Every day for a month, Jughead would come and sit by you. He wouldn’t say a word, he would just sit at lunch to keep you company. He also didn’t tell anyone about your living situation. He didn’t report it to the school, and he certainly didn’t tell his friends. Every now and again they would look over at where you were sitting with Jug and you knew they were probably talking about you both, but oddly enough you didn’t care.
Every night for that same month, Jughead would appear in your sleep.
‘That one was made for you,’ he would say about the star, ‘the light in the darkness.’
It was getting cooler out, and on a nice autumn day you had decided to finally ask him why.
Why did he sit with you?
You got to the table a little early that day, the crummy food from the cafeteria getting cold on your tray already. You anxiously look around, pulling your sleeves down over your hands.
You watch the same couple from under the tree, making up a new story than the one from yesterday and the day before. A familiar figure soon blocked your view.
“Hey, this is quality TV.” you would always say, his cue to sit down across from you, which is exactly what he did.
You sit in silence for a few minutes, picking over your tray once more.
You finally glance up, only to see him looking back at you. Did he always do that?
“So.. uhm..” you start, unsure of what to say. You’d been daydreaming about telling him for so long now that it was the real deal you weren’t exactly sure how to say it.
He just looks at you with expectant eyes, his mouth pinned in the straight line it always was. His hair curled perfectly underneath his signature beanie.
“Why are you sitting with me?” you blurt out, flinching at your own words. Your voice didn’t sound like yours at this time of day, you rarely use it.
“Hm?” he questions, raising his eyebrows.
“Why have you been sitting with me all this time? For the past month you’ve come here every day and just sat with me, not saying anything, I might add, and for what? Your friends are right over there, why sit with me?” you ramble, trying to avoid eye contact. Despite sitting with him every day you really didn’t know anything about him.
“I figured you might need some company. Someone to talk to, when you were ready. I figured, why keep thinking about it, when I could just do it? So I did.” he states plainly.
You’re speechless for a minute, not sure of how to respond. Your normal humor wouldn’t work, that seemed like such a genuine response.
“Well, I think I’m ready.” you say, finally looking in his eyes. You weren’t sure, but you were almost positive that you could see a hint of a smile playing on his lips as you both took a sigh of relief.
i’m ready to heal
i’m ready to feel
You tell Jughead everything. You tell him about your parents, your non-existent friends. Hell, you even tell him about the struggles of living in a cabinet under the school.
He just nods, listening to everything. He doesn’t judge, and seems to show interest in every detail of your woes.
When you are finally finished, he just looks at you for a minute, blinks a few times, and says, “Let me take you to Pop’s after school.”
You couldn’t say no, it’s not like you had any real obligations to attend to after school.
You smiled, excited at the possibility of an actual dinner.
The bell rings before you can respond.
He meets you out front right at the end of school, a smile on his lips as you walk down the steps.
“For a minute I thought you wouldn’t come.” he says as you begin the trail to Pop’s.
“And miss food? Are you insane?” you say with a chuckle. Your arms are swinging lightly in the wind, feeling free as you’re not confined to the small four walls you were used to.
He just smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets, his shoulder bag behind his back. He starts kicking rocks along the road, trading off and even letting you kick some.
This continues the entire way there, giggling and laughing like you haven’t done in years.
In no time your at Pop’s, ordering burgers and milkshakes.
“I have a question.” you say, getting his attention. He has his laptop out, typing away.
“Hm?” he raises his eyebrow, the cue to continue talking.
“How did you know?” you look him dead in the eyes, the question burning in the air.
“I had a dream about it. About someone under the stairs. A girl. You.” he states, glancing up for only a moment, “I had to at least go check.” he admits.
“Why though? Why not just push the dream aside?” you wonder, seeing if you can get him to admit anything else.
“It would nag at me if I didn’t. And if I was wrong, I could move on. If I was right, which I was, I might add, then I knew that the universe was probably trying to tell me something.” he breathes out, the last part of the sentence so soft and airy you can barely make out the words.
Suddenly you get an idea. It’s crazy, and probably a little insane, but you have to try.
“Come with me.” you say, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his arm, just like he did to you the first time you had an encounter.
You lead him outside, back down the path and onto the football field, racing him. He is surprisingly fast, able to keep up with you. When you reach the field you turn to face him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, breathless. You were honestly surprised he keeps putting up with your antics.
“Just wait.” you say, releasing his arm and going over to the light box. You flip the switch, turning all the jumbo lights off, revealing the starry night above you.
“I’ve always wanted to see what this looked like for real.” you say as you walk back over to him.
He looks up at the sky, then back at you, and in this moment you know that you are going to tell this boy everything. You’re going to feel and you’re going to heal again because of Jug. You admit to yourself that you like him, but if you were being honest with yourself you knew you always had. You couldn’t deny it any longer.
“You see that?” he asks, pointing to the brightest star in the sky.
You nod as he takes your hands, making your heart skip a beat.
“That one was made for you,” he says, “the light in the darkness.”
You nearly have a heart attack at the words, speechless to say or do anything.
“What?” is all you can manage.
“(Y/N), you’ve been the highlight of my day for the past month, just sitting there and looking at you looking at everyone else. You were a mystery, and you still are, but somehow I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner, that I didn’t see you sooner.” he says, one hand going to cup your cheek, “Please, come stay with me.”
You lean into him, a huge smile on his face.
“Jug, I-” you begin, but he stops you by placing a kiss on your lips, bringing you close to his body. You feel safe, you feel loved, and you know that no matter what anyone says, the universe is somehow trying to tell you something.
You just hope you can remember that when you wake up.
You didn’t really want to see Bucky, especially at this time of night. He’s proven himself to be a total ass to you earlier that day and the feeling lingered, alright. No matter how much you tried to brush it off, you knew that in the past few days he’s worked up a reputation for you and it would take a miracle to change it. Actually, scrap that, last time you asked for a miracle is what got you in this mess in the first place.
But as you stood outside the bedroom door you knew deep inside that he’d be the best person to speak to about your terrifying dreams. Now was not the time to start another argument with him. You were physically exhausted and mentally hurt and the only person who would know how that felt was the brunette who’d just opened the door.