bill on the right because of how much i love him

🌸 March fics 🌸

» All The Love (I Cannot Give You) by julietlovestory

A story in which Lance loves Keith. Keith loves Lance. But their lives are not easy and their destinies hold way too much responsibility to just give into fleeting things like—like feelings. 

» and i’ll keep you a daydream away by maradyer

“He’s killing me,” Lance groans, head in his hands.

» Blue Halo by MyDearOuroboros

Keith goes to a company-funded party in a strip club, gets gratuitously drunk, and kinda sorta falls in love.

» Blue Is The Loneliest Color by jokeywrites

soul mate
ˈsōl ˌmāt/
noun
noun: soulmate
a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

» Brave New World by Juiliet

The ultimate Klangst post wormhole story in which both boys pine together

» Change Hurts by PotatoBender

Any change that happened fast, without warning, was always the worst, most unbearable thing for Keith.

» curing space blues by tusslee

The weightlessness of zero gravity doesn’t apply to feelings, Lance learns.

» E O Mai by A. E. Stover

He’s homeless and poor and gay and illegally sells fish to get by, and that’s how he comes upon a dead man in his net. Only, it’s not a dead man, because this ‘man’ has the legs of a fish.

» Every Reality by celestia

In every possible reality the two paladins are destined to find each other and take comfort in one another.

» Flirting With Death by drippingpen

Keith commits the ultimate taboo as a grim reaper: he saves a life.

More specifically, he saves Lance’s life.

» free throw by breadpoetsociety

“He introduced me to the greatest love of my life. And, actually, that’s not basketball. But his brother, Keith Kogane.”

» Fuck Me Up by Azure_Wavelet

Okay but consider: Keith pretending to be lance’s boyfriend to ruin lance’s attempts to flirt with aliens

» honey, i’m no superman by redburn

Lance is a reporter. Keith is the masked vigilante who saves him.

» I Found Love by SeaBreezy and thesearchingastronaut

Keith is just trying to live his life as a freelance illustrator with his cat, keeping up with bills by having two part-time jobs.

» It Grows Stronger by tylerproposey

5 times Keith helped Lance out of a situation and the 1 time Lance tried to pay back the saves.

» i’m right here by memesofbees

That was it.

This thunderstorm, this natural disaster consuming his stomach, up his spine. Multiplying into his bones.

» I’m With You by spacegaykogane

Lance pinned the whole mission down to four huge missteps:
The first was in sending Keith with him.

» Lilac Sky by rinthegreat

Shiro’s missing, Keith has anxiety, and Lance’s soulmate doesn’t talk to him. What else is new?

» Meet Me on the Battlefield by TheSpace_Dragon

On the battlefield, anything can happen. Never turn a blind eye to the possibilities.

» Predestination by elfenphoenix

Ten thousand years ago the Blue Paladin was Altean, and the Red Paladin was Galra.
Ten thousand years ago, in peacetime, the Red and Blue Paladins fell in love.
Ten thousand years ago, war broke out, and love that was once encouraged became heresy.
Ten thousand years ago, the Red and Blue paladins made a promise they couldn’t keep.

» red down a dead end by anihanki

Keith and Lance holding hands underneath library tables, kissing in corridors, with the south and a cross hanging over them.

» Talk It Out by KaSaPe

Lance doesn’t want to talk about it. At all. Not with Keith, not with anyone else. But somehow, one way or another, Keith gets him to open up. And Lance’s reward? A new boyfriend.

» tell me that you love me too by ciuucalata

Five times Lance tells Keith he’s in love with him and the one time he doesn’t.

» tethering by fairyuphoria

Okay, so, maybe pressing weird Altean buttons on the side of your head gear wasn’t the best idea, but Lance sure as hell didn’t expect this to happen.

» the courage of stars by judlane

“Congratulations. Consider yourself a life-long prisoner of the Galra Empire. You should be honored,” Commander Keith hissed as he leaned close, breath hot on Lance’s skin.

» the kind of hope that keeps people going; by abendtrot

Recipe for Lance: two cups of smiles, three tablespoons of flirtation, two cups of insecurity and a teaspoon of cockiness to cover up that insecurity’s sting.

Recipe for Keith: three cups of anger, two cups of “it’s not a phase!”, a dash of occasional smiles, and a giant helping of the hots for Lance.

Recipe for an explosion: put the two together.

» time out of mind by aknightley

Keith and Lance wake up married. In the future.

» Torrent by spookyknight

Paladins red and blue find calm in the storm on a treacherous uninhabited planet.

» What Are You Waiting For? by Basingtei

Spending the day dancing and sharing a wall at night is a recipe for a lovely disaster. 

» with quiet words i’ll lead you in by strikinglight

“Take it slow.” Keith’s voice is steady, but as Lance’s eyes struggle to focus his face is a blur. The image goes shaky and then comes clear, shaky then clear, like looking into water. “Pretend it’s low tide. Tell me about the ocean again.”

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fake dating! zimbits

It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exits the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up – the group chat was always blowing up these days – but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.

Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.

Shitty Knight: brah are you dying

Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.

Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?

Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok

Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.

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catfruits  asked:

Okay, so, I'd love to read a little something by you set in a world where Lavender made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe not okay, but alive?

Once upon a time, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her. She had been the kind of kid who put on dramatic plays for her stuffed animals, for any visitors to the house, and for any neighbor or passersby she could snag from the front yard.

Dating Ron in sixth year had been fun, most of all because everyone had kept sneaking glances at her. She had heard her name in curious whispers and she had grinned and giggled into Parvati’s shoulder.

Everyone was looking now, or pretending not to. She heard the whispers– oh it’s that poor Brown girl. Can you imagine, if it was your daughter, if it was you? Oh and she was so pretty before, too–what a pity–almost makes it worse, doesn’t it?

“You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out. “I was there, once, when Lupin turned without the potion. I was so scared. I thought we were going to die.”

“Afraid I’ll sniff you out on a dark night?” Lavender said, face twisting as she sank back into her wicker chair.

“No, I–” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and all the hesitation was making Lavender more and more uncomfortable. Even at eleven, Hermione had bulldozed through things. She didn’t waver. “I was so scared, but I think it was even worse for him. It hurt, but he looked so scared, too, I–”

“I know how it feels,” said Lavender, very quietly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Lavender took a big sip from her tea. It was still steaming– it had not taken long to exhaust small talk, between the two of them.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to– make things better. Do you want this?”

Lavender put her mug back down, shaking out scalded fingers, and said, “Yes.” Then, because her mother had raised her right, she said, “Thank you.”

“That sounds like a weird conversation,” said Parvati, whose door Lavender went and knocked on after she and Hermione had split the bill with the precise-to-the-Knut math of the vaguely acquainted and recently employed.

Lavender kicked through the fall of autumn leaves that had collected in front of the porch swing. “She was trying to be nice, I think.”

“She’s not very good at it,” said Parvati.

-

Her father wept. He tried not to but he was a crier, always had been.

“You were so brave,” said Lavender’s mother, cupping her cheeks in her warm hands and not even flinching at the scar tissue under her palms. “We are so proud.”

Lavender’s mother was a Muggleborn, daughter of a math teacher and a door-to-door salesman (“now there is a profession that requires some magic,” her grandfather used to tell her).

Her father was a wizard and he was trying hard not to cry, bending down to pet the dogs weaving between all their ankles. Lavender bent down, too, scratching behind Fiddlestick’s floppy ears while Mopsy cleaned her cheek forcefully. “Hey,” she said, and her father looked up, trying to firm his wobbly chin.

“You know I’m proud of you, too,” he said, trying not to tremble on it. “I just…” He reached out to squeeze her knee gently. “You did everything right. You did everything good. I’m so proud of you, chickadee.”

“I know,” she said, and she did. He was a Gryffindor, too.

-

It took Hermione more than a month to figure out the potion sufficiently well enough that she’d let Lavender try it. She was founding a non-profit for nonhuman rights, too, after all, as well as doing a fair few local speaking gigs, petitioning the Wizenagamot on a half dozen issues, getting an advanced degree, and supposedly, at some point, sleeping.

It took more than a month, so Lavender spent another night locked in her parents’ newly fortified cellar. She didn’t remember much, but she woke up with her throat sore and her nails ragged. The door was gouged from the inside. She wondered if she had been screaming. She wondered if that’s what the howls were. She felt like screaming, maybe, a little.

The door cracked open the moment the moon had dropped down below the horizon, outside. Her mother came in with a tray of her favorite breakfast foods– danishes and boiled eggs, steaming hot cocoa with the barest splash of bitter coffee in it.

Parvati came stomping down the stairs after her. “Graceful,” said Lavender. She winced at the roughness of her voice.

“Look who’s talking,” said Parvati. “Up, c'mon, eat your breakfast. We’re doing midnight manicures. Your dad says he’ll let us doll up his nails, too.”

The next full moon night, Lavender locked herself in the cellar again. “It should be safe,” Hermione had said. “It should. I mean, I’ve done all the tests. I followed all the instructions. It should work.”

Lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. She didn’t recall Parvati Wingardium Leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of Witch Weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on Parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.

But she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. She was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at Parvati’s slack, sleeping face. Her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.

Lavender pulled herself up to sitting, stole the open Witch Weekly, and waited for Parvati to wake up.

-

“You’re going to be alright,” Professor Trelawney said and she wasn’t even looking at Lavender’s palm, just holding her hand tight in her cold fingers. “You’re going to be happy. You’re going to be fine. People are going to love you and stand by you and we will be there.”

The tower room was just the same as Lavender remembered it, down to the spicy-sweet tea and Trelawney’s big blinking eyes. Lavender squeezed her hands back. “I love you, too, professor.”

“You know, I think you can call me Sybil. It seems the time for it.”

Dean and Seamas’s housewarming for their ugly little first flat was a crowded mess, but the afterparty wasn’t. Lavender and Parvati came by with paint swatches, opinions, and hangover remedies. They ate greasy Chinese food on the floor, because it was about as comfortable as the couch.

They came back the next week, and the next. Parvati conjured a crackling fire in a big fruit bowl Dean’s mother had given him and they all sat around it like they were back at Gryffindor Tower’s hearths, procrastinating on homework.

On nights like that they sometimes talked about Hogwarts, but most of the time they didn’t. Dean had started drawing again and he walked them through his notebooks– his sisters, caricatures of the customers he dealt with in Ollivander’s wand shop, the snarky little comics he’d always scrawled in the edges of his notes. Parvati told them about the Auror trainees’ antics, going ut on their first field missions with their mentors. “All bravado and caffeine,” she said. “Bunch of show-offs.”

“So you fit in well, then?” Dean said.

“Nah, that’s Lav,” Parvati said. Dean and Seamas glanced warily at Lavender, but she just giggled and reached for another potsticker.

Seamas was considering going back to school. “Hermione’s been badgering me about it,” he said. “Says I have a talent for pyrotechnics, and there’s a whole major for fire magics at Brinxley.”

“What about you, Lav?” said Dean. “You still thinking about vet school?”

“What?”

“Oh, uh, that’s the Muggle word. Veterinarian– a medimagizoologist?”

“The schools aren’t too interested in a werewolf as a student,” Lavender said, shrugging.

“Not that that stops Hermione from showing up on the doorstep with half-penned anti-discrimination lawsuits she wants Lav to star in,” Parvati said.

“When does she sleep?” said Dean.

Little children asked about it in the street sometimes. “Mum, why’s her face like that?” “How come she’s walking all funny?”

Sometimes their parents turned to Lavender with eager bright eyes in the grocery store line, expecting her to answer. (“I got hurt, but I’m okay now.”) Sometimes they shushed their kids and gave her little apologetic half-smiles, glancing away from the raised lines of scar tissue. Sometimes they pulled their children closer to them and crossed to the other side of the street.

Harry Potter had a godson. Teddy Lupin was four the first time Lavender met him, just outside Gringotts. Teddy clung to Harry’s pants leg, peeking past his godfather’s hanging robe. “Why’d her face do that?” he said and Harry dropped a hand down into Teddy’s hair, which was bright green.

“She’s just like your dad,” said Harry.

“Puppy,” Teddy whispered, eyes wide with joy, and his skin shifted until scars stood out stark on his smiling chubby cheeks.

Lavender bit her lip and sank down to her knees in the street, holding out a hand. “Why aren’t you handsome, chickadee. What’s your name?”

Once, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her.

She hated stories that told you to be careful what you wished for. Were you not supposed to want things? Was that the answer? She was nearly twenty two and she could make things fly with a few whispered words. She had lived through her seventh year at Hogwarts, had stepped out into that battle with her wand out and her eyes open. She had woken up–hurting, wounds tended, poison in her veins–to Parvati sleeping on Sybil’s shoulder at her bedside.

She had cried when they told her about the lycanthropy. She had cried over her bunny because a fox had gotten to it. Both times it had been with her face buried in Parvati’s shoulder and Parvati’s hands stroking her hair. She wished and she wanted– animals that never left you, bodies that never betrayed you.

Once, Lavender had wished that everyone would look at her, and now they were. Everyone was looking– so Lavender held Parvati’s hand in the grocery store at midnight, because they had both been craving green apples. Everyone was looking– so Lavender curled her hair and pinned it up, wore tank tops and little skirts on any day hot enough that she could get away with it, laughed aloud in public spaces. Everyone was looking– so Lavender knocked on Hermione Granger’s door one evening and asked, “What would it take to get me into magical vet school?”

Hermione had her bushy hair all tied back and a quill behind each ear. “A lot. There’s some statutes we’ve got to fight, and even if we can handle that you’ll still be under intense scrutiny for years.”

“I can work with that,” said Lavender, and Hermione grinned.

When Teddy marched down the aisle with the rings, his hair was a shimmering swirl of pink and purple to match the flowers woven into Parvati’s braids and Lavender’s curls.

The honeymoon would be short–a week in magical Paris in the townhouse of a Beauxbaton girl they’d befriended fourth year. Lavender had more medical textbooks packed into her luggage than anything else. Parvati’s bags were lined with half-finished reports that she’d owl to Auror headquarters from a rumpled Parisian morning, getting croissant crumbs in the bedsheets.

But for now the hall was filled with pink and purple blooms, white candles, familiar faces. Hermione stood in a violet bridesmaid’s dress, and Dean and Seamus in matching ties at Parvati and Lavender’s respective backs. Padma was luminescent with joy over Parvati’s shoulder. She had taken Lavender aside that morning for a short quiet walk in the mist and told her, “I know tonight’s what makes it official, but I’ve thought of you as my sister for years.”

When Lavender leaned forward and kissed her wife, her father burst into proud tears in the front row. He was a crier, always had been. Lavender buried her face in Parvati’s shoulder, smiling so hard she thought she might come apart. Her scars creased and puckered in her dimples, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

So, I was stoked to see the leaked photo of Matt Holt and Shiro. Shiro is alive, THANK GOD, because I don’t really want anyone else to pilot the black lion (I could maybe come around to Allura though…). He’s SPACE DAD. His family needs him. And Matt is alive! And he and Pidge are going to be so relieved to be together again. This is amazing. But if/when Shiro and Matt finally make it back to the castle, the ship dynamics will change, possibly a lot. 

And I think Lance is going to be most affected by this change, probably for the worse.

I mean, think about it… Lance tends to be the least favorite on the ship. No one’s best friend, never anyone’s first choice. And Matt’s going to board the ship, and everyone will get along with him extremely well, and Lance will be crushed that this guy who’s been on the ship for a matter of hours is already liked better than him. 

Shiro has already worked with Matt, they’ve dealt with trauma together, they’ve bonded. Shiro is  grateful to have his old friend back. Pidge, obviously, will be thrilled to see her brother again. Any attention she once allowed Lance is now focused on Matt instead. Hunk and Matt both strike me as very methodical, patient, and strategic. I think they’ll bond very easily. Keith probably won’t have strong feelings for him, but jeez, he’ll find Matt far more pleasant than “obnoxious” Lance. Coran will love this bright, scientific boy! How wonderful to have another ally on board. Matt will probably be very useful around the castle! And as for Allura…

Allura already adores Pidge and Shiro. And as soon as these two introduce Matt, she already knows she’ll get along with him splendidly. She includes him in battle planning. They share the information they’ve learned about the war and the status of other planets. They strategize to form new alliances. And one day over dinner, she makes a casual comment, not realizing its potential harm. 

“Matt, if we’d have found you sooner, you would have been a perfect fit for the Blue Lion. The Blue Paladin is known for being an excellent strategist, cool under pressure, and having incredible precision. With your skill set, you certainly fit the bill!”

Of course, Allura didn’t mean to insult Lance. And she’d never dream of replacing Lance at this point, not now that he and Blue were bonded. She didn’t even think Lance been paying attention. He and Keith had been bickering. But Lance heard her. He pretended he hadn’t and finished his meal in silence.

 But later that night, he couldn’t push the words out of his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right. Matt was better than him in every way. Matt had passed piloting exams and simulations so that he could go on the Kerberos Mission. After so much experience extracting ice samples, his precision was unmatched. Since escaping the Galra, he’d become an excellent fighter. Plus, he got along well with everyone on the team. It would be much easier for the paladins to form Voltron with Matt piloting Blue.

Worst of all, Blue loved him too. Shortly after arriving to the castle, Matt had asked to meet all of the lions. And upon seeing Matt, Blue lit up just like she did for Lance.

So Lance decides to leave. Matt will pilot Blue. Voltron will be stronger, and they’ll defeat the Galra sooner. Peace will be returned to the universe. Besides, maybe he’ll be able to find his way home. After all, that’s where he really wants to be—safe on earth with his family. A few days later, after looking over all the maps he could find and storing away enough food and water for a few weeks, he packs up his few belongings and makes his way to the escape pods. He passes through the silent halls of the castle unnoticed and makes his departure.

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You know…it always made me sad how nuWho Doctors treated the companion who came after “their” companion. Ten was so hung up on Rose that he completely overlooked how sharp, kind, and devoted Martha was. Eleven was so bitter everything that happened with the Ponds that he became less trusting and questioned Clara at every turn, when she was only ever just a regular young woman. They both deserved better than what Ten and Eleven gave them. They were bright, brave individuals in their own rights who deserved to be treated as such, but Ten and Eleven never really saw them as their own people—as a friend, as a fellow traveler.

And then there’s my Twelvey. Twelve, whose older and less charming traits were embraced because Clara knew him so well and loved him so much. Twelve, who was so intensely close with and similar to Clara that he had to remove himself from her in order to keep the universe safe. There will never be a pair quite like them again. I couldn’t blame him if he couldn’t bring himself to make a new friend. 

Instead of retreating into himself and refusing to let another young human into his life, he…did the opposite. He noticed a young woman who is clever, who loves to learn, and he wanted to meet her. He took it upon himself to teach her, because she can’t afford to attend the university. He went out of his way to get to know her, to learn her story, and to give her a glimpse at her late mother, because it mattered to her. He acted so very much like a Doctor. Like the Doctor Clara deserved when she first met Eleven. Like the Doctor Bill deserves now. 

Clara must be so proud to call that guy her Doctor. I know I am.

cave me in (m)

based on the prompt, “fake relationship au“

pairing: shin hoseok | reader
genre: romance, angst, smut
word count: 16,184
description:  you’ve never regretted being shin hoseok’s best friend, but when you realize you’re in love with him when he’s supposed to be your fake boyfriend at his ex-girlfriend’s wedding you’re actually starting to.
author’s note: IT’S FINALLY DONE. this was supposed to be a drabble (as if)…. for @wonhopes thank you for requesting this and feeding into my love for wonho….. and thank you @wangpuppo for listening to me change my mind a million times about the plot for this.


Originally posted by lostinmonstax


You weren’t supposed to fall in love. (Not again, at least.)

All you were supposed to do was fake a smile, look good on his arm, and make everyone believe that you were in love.

Nowhere in your agreement did it say to enjoy the warmth of his arms, the smile that curves on his beautiful reddened lips, the sound of his deep, guttural voice whether it was when he was talking or singing or even whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It was all supposed to be a simple exchange where you finally got to see your best friend, not revisit feelings you shoved away when you were in high school. But maybe the heart wants what it wants. Maybe you just liked the thrill of doing things that you shouldn’t or the way he made you feel just from a mere hand on your hip or caress of his fingertips brushing back a wild strand of hair…

Everything about Shin Hoseok was positively the worst and best thing that could’ve happened to you, and it’s his damn proposition to blame, unless you want to get more technical then maybe it was the moment he entered your life.

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Ever Since New York

Originally posted by riverdaleselite

Check the Ever Since New York Masterlist for series updates!

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: After his junior year, Jughead goes to New York for a writing internship.  

Warnings: some swearing, you might cry

Word count: 4,574

A/N: umm first of all thank you for 7000 followers?? holy crap. anywho wowowow this is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. It’s based off of the song “Ever Since New York” from Harry Styles’s album (which I love btw).  This is probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written tbh. Hope you all enjoy!


Tell me something, tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do

After years of saving the money he earned at the Twilight Drive-In and other odd jobs, Jughead finally had enough to buy a plane ticket to New York.  He had discovered a writing internship there that he knew he had to do. It didn’t take much effort to convince his dad to allow him to go; in fact, FP even offered to pitch in some money. Jughead refused, claiming that he wanted to do this all on his own.  He wanted to deserve this internship as much as possible.

He started talking to Veronica frequently, asking her about her time in New York.  She, of course, gladly answered all of Jughead’s questions.  She was glad to finally bond with her boyfriend’s best friend.  

Jughead also pestered Betty with questions, seeing as she had done an internship similar to his two summers ago.  It was a bit awkward at first, since the two of them used to date.  However, they both got over their awkwardness for the sake of preparing Jughead for his internship.

“It’s really amazing,” Betty told him.  “It’s a great experience, and you’ll learn so much.”

“What are other people like?” Jughead inquired.  “Are they pricks?”

“Sometimes,” Betty laughed. “It depends.  Do you know how many other people are participating in the internship?”

“Just one,” he answered, shrugging.  “I don’t know who it is though.”

“Well, if they’re a jerk then that’s gonna suck,” she offered.  “But if they’re nice, they may become one of the closest friends you’ll ever have.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Betty replied and nodded.  “You’re gonna spend all summer with this other person.  They’re either gonna drive you up the wall or become your new best friend.”

I need something, tell me something new
Choose your words, ‘cause there’s no antidote
For this curse, oh, what’s it waiting for?
Must this hurt you just before you go?

“Have fun in New York, Jug.” FP patted his son on the back as they stood at the airport gate.  Betty, Veronica, Archie, Fred Andrews, and Kevin stood behind FP, all wearing supportive smiles.  Jughead glanced around at the group who followed him to the airport, filled with admiration of his friends and family.

“Thank you guys,” he said, fighting back a giant grin.  “You didn’t all have to come, though.”

“Of course we did,” Fred Andrews argued.  “We’re not gonna see you all summer, Jughead.  We have to give you a proper send-off.”

“Well, proper send-off achieved,” Jughead laughed.  He watched as others in the line began to move.  “I guess I should go now.  Thanks for this.  See you all in August.”  As he turned on his heel and walked away, the group of six gleefully waved at Jughead’s retreating figure.

“You aren’t worried about Jughead all alone in a giant city?” Fred asked FP as they exited the airport.

“Nah,” FP responded, waving his hand.  “He’s a smart kid, he’ll find his way.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Hi, I’m Jughead Jones,” he introduced himself at the front desk.  “I’m here for the writing internship.”

The lady sitting behind the desk glanced up at Jughead.  “Ah, yes! We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Jones!” she exclaimed, standing from her chair.

“Oh, am I late?” Jughead inquired.  

The lady shook her head. “Oh no, not at all.  Your counterpart just got here early, so we’ve been waiting for you to start.”

“My counterpart?”

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she gestured to a girl sitting on a chair against the wall, flipping through a magazine.  The girl perked up when she heard her name, and saw Jughead and the receptionist staring at her.

“Is this him?” (Y/N) questioned, standing up and setting the magazine down.  Jughead noticed it was a TIME magazine.  

“Yes,” the receptionist answered.  “(Y/N), this is Jughead Jones.”  Jughead stuck his hand out to shake, and (Y/N) firmly shook his hand.

“I hope you’re not an asshole,” she blatantly said as they released hands, “because we’re gonna be stuck with each other all summer.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he quipped.  

(Y/N) raised her eyebrow in interest.  “Quick-witted,” she noted with a smirk forming on her face.  “I like it.”

“You better,” Jughead fired back, biting back a grin.  “Like you said, we’ll be around each other all summer.”

“If we were together any longer, I’d worry about you falling in love with me,” she jokingly warned. “So be careful.”

Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news
There’s no water inside this swimming pool

“When’d you get here?” (Y/N) asked as she and Jughead exited the building, their first day of the internship finished.

“Two days ago,” Jughead answered with his hands in his pockets.  “What about you?”

“Last week.”  Her pace was quick, and she seemed determined to get somewhere.  “Are you hungry?  Because I’m starving.”

“I would love some food,” Jughead almost moaned at the thought of food.  He was only able to scarf down a small lunch in the midst of the business.

“I know this great burger place,” (Y/N) explained as she led the way to the restaurant.  “It’ll make every other burger you’ve ever eaten seem like a pile of shit on a bun.”

“I doubt that,” Jughead scoffed.  “There’s a diner where I’m from that makes the best burgers you’ll ever eat.”

“Where are you from?”

“Riverdale,” he said. “Pop’s diner, that’s what it’s called. If you ever find yourself in Riverdale, stop by Pop’s.  Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

“Well we’re not in Riverdale right now, Jughead Jones,” (Y/N) reminded him.  “So you should thank your lucky stars that I am your counterpart, because I’ve been here for the past week. You know what I’ve been doing for that week?  Exploring, Jones.  I have tried and evaluated twenty-one restaurants, and I know where to go for whatever you’re craving.”

“What if I’m craving Korean food?” he quizzed.

“32nd street, there’s a great Korean grill,” she immediately responded.

“Ethiopian?”

“There’s a quaint little place on 135th street.”

“What if I want to get wasted?” Jughead smirked.

“There’s a club a couple of blocks away with shitty security,” (Y/N) answered with a smirk equally as wide.  “Or maybe I was just an exception, seeing as how attractive I am.”

“I think you overestimate yourself,” he scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes.  

(Y/N) lightly slapped him on the arm.  “I do not!” she retaliated.  

“Whatever, keep lying to yourself.”  Jughead quickened his pace, leaving (Y/N) behind him.

“Hey!” she called out, rushing to catch up to him.  “You better not leave me!  You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“You’re still here,” he noted, casually wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  “Lead the way, (Y/N).”

Almost over, had enough from you
And I’ve been praying, I never did before

“God, this food sucks,” (Y/N) whispered, gesturing towards the plates of Japanese food sitting in front of her and Jughead.  “That place we ate at last week was so much better.”

“True,” Jughead agreed with a mouthful of food.  “But this place is cheaper.”

“Rightfully so!” she exclaimed, jabbing at her tofu with a chopstick.  Jughead silently laughed and shook his head, continuing to eat his fried rice.  He watched as (Y/N) picked at her dish, examining each aspect of the meal.  

It had been three weeks since their internship had begun, and Jughead and (Y/N) quickly became close friends.  They bonded over the overwhelming amount of work at their internship and their food-discovering adventures.  Jughead didn’t know how he would’ve survived an entire summer in New York without (Y/N) by his side.  They even stayed at the same hotel, so during a sleepless night, one would wake the other and stay up all night talking.  On those nights, they would drink hot chocolate.

“I’ve got the check tonight, Jug,” (Y/N) said, snapping Jughead out of his thoughts as she took the bill from the waitress.  Jughead furiously shook his head.

“No, (Y/N), you got dinner yesterday,” he protested, reaching out towards the bill.  “I’ll cover it tonight.”

“You got lunch!” she exasperatedly exclaimed.  “I can handle it.  Dinner wasn’t even expensive last night or tonight.”  

Jughead huffed as the waitress returned and took (Y/N)’s money.  “Fine,” he pouted, “but we’re gonna go out for desert, and I’m paying for it.”

“Fine.”

“Ice cream?” Jughead offered, standing from his chair.  (Y/N) followed suit, and they exited the diner.  She slowly grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m feeling frozen yogurt tonight,” she countered his offer, grinning up at him.

“What’s the difference?” Jughead playfully scoffed, trying not to blush at their hand-holding.  They had started doing it last week after he almost lost (Y/N) in a giant mass of people.

“I swear to God, Jug, you said the same thing last week, and I explicitly explained it to you.”  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.  “Ice cream is-”

“Made with cream, whereas frozen yogurt is a yogurt-based treat,” Jughead quoted what (Y/N) had told him last week.

“I knew you paid attention to me.”

Understand I’m talking to the walls
I’ve been praying ever since New York

In the middle of the night, the phone started ringing.  Jughead, still half-asleep, answered it with his eyes remaining shut.  

“You can come over,” he said, not waiting for the caller to initiate the conversation.

“Okay,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice responded, and she hung up.  A few moments later, a soft knock resonated through Jughead’s hotel room.  He rolled off of his bed, throwing on a t-shirt, and opened the door.  (Y/N) stood in the doorway, slightly shaking.  

“You cold?” Jughead murmured.  (Y/N) wordlessly nodded.  He gently grabbed her arm and led her inside, shutting the door behind them.  He stripped the blanket off from his bed and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping (Y/N) in the soft white material.  (Y/N) smiled up at him.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asked, sitting on his bed.  Jughead mimicked her actions and sat next to her.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

“How are you not sick of me?” she elaborated.  “I mean, we’ve been constantly hanging out for, what, a month and a half now?  You know if I’m annoying you, you can just tell me. I’ll back off.”

“Why would you annoy me?” he asked, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “You’re the best part about this internship.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not,” Jughead lightly laughed, slightly nudging her.  “I’m serious, (Y/N).  Before I came, I was asking my friend Betty about internships.  She did one two years ago, so she knew what she was talking about. She told me that the people I’ll meet during this internship will either drive me up the wall or become one of my closest friends.”

“So I haven’t driven you up the wall?” (Y/N) inquired with a tentative smile.

“Of course not,” Jughead laughed loudly this time.  A moment of silence ensued, both (Y/N) and Jughead overwhelmed by sleepiness.

“Is Betty your girlfriend?” (Y/N) broke the silence, staring up at Jughead.

“No,” he muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “She was,” he admitted, “but not anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” he shrugged. “Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) muttered. “I had a boyfriend.”

“Really?  That’s shocking.”

“Shut up!” she whined, elbowing him.  “Yes, I had a boyfriend.  He was actually a total dickhead.”

“How?” Jughead asked, growing concerned.  

(Y/N) looked up at him and giggled.  “Oh, you’re worried,” she cooed, placing a hand on his chin.  Jughead swatted it away.

“Sue me,” he retorted, but then grew serious.  “But really, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” she replied, facing away from Jughead.  “We were dating for a while, and… I don’t know.  He never really supported me in anything.  He wasn’t nice to any of my friends, and I didn’t notice for so long because I was so fucking smitten.  Eventually it hit me one day, and I realized that he was horrible.  So, naturally, I dumped him.”

“As one does,” Jughead nodded, nonchalantly tracing patterns on (Y/N)’s right arm with his thumb.  

(Y/N) slumped and sighed. “What time is it?”

Jughead glanced at the clock with its blaring, bright red numbers.  “Three o’clock.”

“Jesus,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.  “I should… I should get back to my room.”  She jumped off the bed and trekked towards the door, her bare feet dragging on the carpet.

“Wait,” Jughead commanded, grabbing her arm.  “Don’t go, it’s too late.”

“You say that as if I have to walk across New York City,” (Y/N) joked.  “It’s fine, Jug, my room is down the hall.  I’m not gonna get mugged.”

“No, but you may fall over before you reach your room,” he countered with a lighthearted smirk. “Just stay here tonight, okay?” (Y/N), too tired to argue, needed no more convincing as she turned around and climbed into Jughead’s bed. He laid down, patting the space next to him.  (Y/N) tentatively settled next to him, slowly resting her head on the neighboring pillow. “You can get closer than that, you know,” he told her, amused by her unusually timid nature.  She hesitantly scooted closer to him, until she was near enough for Jughead to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest.  “That’s better,” he whispered into her hair.  She draped one arm around his torso, the other arm tucked under their now-shared pillow.

“Night, Jug,” she murmured, eyes already closed.  He smiled at her.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

“Oh, Jughead, how is it?” Betty eagerly asked, her face displayed on his laptop screen.  

“It’s been great,” Jughead answered.  

“What restaurants have you tried?” Veronica questioned from her spot next to Betty.

“A bunch,” he vaguely replied.  “(Y/N) is attempting to try every restaurant in New York City.  I think it’s impossible, but she’s determined.”

“Who is (Y/N)?” Archie inquired, popping his head into the camera’s view.  

Jughead laughed, “Where do I begin?  She’s my ‘counterpart’ for the internship.  We’ve become very close.”

“I told you,” Betty grinned. Jughead nodded.

“You were right,” he admitted.  “Right when I met her, I… I don’t know, it just felt like something clicked between us. We’re inseparable.”  Betty’s expression slightly darkened, but Jughead waved it off as a bit off jealousy.

“Ah, you’ve got it bad, bro,” Archie laughed at his best friend.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like that, Arch,” he explained.  “It’s like Betty said, you grow really close to people when you spend so much time together.”

“But you don’t blush when you talk about them,” Veronica noted, pointing out Jughead’s dusty pink cheeks.

“You’re imagining things,” Jughead scoffed.  Betty, Archie, and Veronica shared a knowing glance.

“If you say so,” Veronica sing-songed.  Before Jughead could respond, there was a knock on his door.  A smile subconsciously grew on his face.

“Speaking of (Y/N),” he said, standing up and walking towards the door.  He opened it, and, as expected, (Y/N) stood there.

“Are we going or not, Jug?” she pressed, grabbing his hand.  “I told you the line for the rainbow bagels is super long.  I don’t want to spend all of Saturday waiting for one, even though they’re so fucking pretty.”

“I’m video chatting with my friends right now,” Jughead told her, gesturing towards his open laptop. “Can you wait like five more minutes?”

“Fine,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms.  She stepped into his room, allowing him to close the door behind her.  She followed him as he sat back down in front of his laptop, resting her chin on his shoulder as she peered at the screen. “These are your friends?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “That’s Archie,” he gestured towards the redhead, “the blonde one is Betty, and that one is Veronica.”  (Y/N) smiled at Jughead’s Riverdale friends.

“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled.  “Jughead was just talking about you.”

“Of course he was,” (Y/N) joked, nudging his arm.  Jughead playfully shoved her back.

“So how’s it been? Three months with the infamous Jughead Jones?” Veronica inquired with a smirk dancing on her lips.  

“Well it hasn’t been three months quite yet,” (Y/N) corrected her.  “I’ve only gotta deal with this guy for two more weeks.” Jughead’s face slightly deflated as this realization hit him.  “Let me tell you, he’s quite the handful.”

“We know,” Archie laughed. Jughead opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/N) interrupted him.

“Shit, I left my phone in my room!” she exclaimed, standing up.  “I’ll be right back, Jug.”  She turned and faced the laptop.  “It was great talking to you guys.  I hope we can meet sometime!”  She quickly exited Jughead’s room.  Immediately, Veronica, Archie, and Betty bombarded him about (Y/N)

“She’s perfect,” Veronica cooed.  “She’s actually flawless, Jughead.”

“You lucked out, bro,” Archie told him.  “She’s a keeper.”

“She’s absolutely amazing, Jughead,” Betty smiled.  Jughead grinned and shook his head.

“You guys, I told you-”

“Don’t even go there,” Veronica interrupted him.  “That girl is absolutely perfect for you.  The way you two look at each other is… it seems like it’s from a fairytale. You two are soulmates, Jughead.

“She does seem great, Jug,” Archie agreed with her.  “I mean, I’ve never seen you like that with anyone.  No offense, Betty.”

“None taken, Archie,” she waved his comment off.  “They’re right though, Jug.  You never looked at me the way you look at (Y/N).”  Jughead couldn’t think of a clever retort.  “But be careful, Jughead.  Like (Y/N) said earlier, you two only have two more weeks together. If you haven’t done anything up to this point, you might want to consider whether or not it’s worth it to start something now.  Just ask yourself, is it worth the heartbreak that’ll happen when you have to leave her?” She pursed her lips as she watched Jughead’s face darken on her screen.

“Thanks guys,” he said halfheartedly.  “Really, thank you.  I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

Tell me something, tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do
Tell me something just before you go

“Our last day!” (Y/N) exclaimed, prancing into Jughead’s hotel room.  After the video call he had two weeks ago ended, he decided to give her a key to his room.  “Our internship is over, and we have one last night to spend together, Jug.  Out of every place in all of New York City, where do you want to go, Jughead Jones?” she asked seductively, a coy smirk growing on her face.

“I’m feeling burgers tonight,” Jughead answered, trying to stop his expression from deflating.  “And then maybe we can get some cupcakes?”

“I like it!” she grinned. She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room, beginning the trek to their favorite restaurant.  “Jesus, I can’t believe it’s been three months already.”

“I know,” he agreed.  “It seems like my plane landed just yesterday.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed. They spent the rest of their walk in silence, choosing to listen to the bustling New York traffic.  

The waitresses at the restaurant, at this point, knew Jughead and (Y/N) as regulars.  They didn’t even bother giving them menus, knowing exactly what each of them would order.

“You two are my favorites,” the waitress whispered as she set their burgers in front of them.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) grinned. “I’m sorry to say, but it’s our last day here.”

“Oh,” the waitress sighed. “Well, you two better visit.  I don’t know what I’ll do without my favorite regulars.”  She walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Jughead to enjoy their burgers.

“You know,” Jughead noted through a mouth full of burger, “I don’t know how you’ve tried almost every restaurant in New York City while becoming a regular here.”

“Talent, Jug,” she told him, wiping her mouth on a napkin.  “It takes a hell of a lot of talent.”

They finished dinner and went to their favorite bakery to get cupcakes.  On their walk back to the hotel, they fell into silence once again. It wasn’t broken until they entered Jughead’s hotel room.  By now, almost all of (Y/N)’s stuff ended up in here.  They found it easier, rather than constantly having to switch back and forth between rooms to grab their stuff.

“So that was our last day,” (Y/N) claimed, flopping onto the bed.  Jughead stood by the bedside, crossing his arms with an amused smile.

“Unfortunately, it was,” he nodded.  He jumped next to her on the bed, earning a shriek from (Y/N).  He swallowed as he stared at her, knowing what he had to tell her. “Do you remember what you said to me on the first day we met?”

“That I know where to go for whatever you’re craving,” she answered with a grin.  Jughead laughed and shook his head.

“No, the other thing.”

“I hope you’re not an asshole because we’re gonna be stuck together all summer?” she offered.  He shook his head again.

“Nope.”

“I called you quick-witted?”

“No!”

“What is it?” (Y/N) demanded, sitting up so that she was hovering over Jughead as he remained laying down.

“You told me that if we were together any longer than just the summer, I might fall in love with you,” he explained, sitting up so that they were face-to-face.  (Y/N)’s grin slightly faded.

“Oh,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I did say that.”

“You were wrong,” Jughead said, trying to keep his voice steady.  He slowly grabbed her right hand.

“Really?” she asked as her eyes followed Jughead’s hand.

“Betty told me to be careful,” he explained, “because we’re not gonna be together that long.  And she was right.  I mean, why would we risk an immense amount of heartbreak just for the sake of a blissful few weeks together?”  When (Y/N) said nothing, he continued.  “So I figured I could just suck it up and get through the rest of our time together and not say anything.  It was a good plan, but you… you ruined it.”

“Sorry,” she quipped with a small smirk.  Jughead lovingly rolled his eyes.

“No you’re not,” he laughed. “You’re not sorry, and you shouldn’t be. Within the three months we’ve spent together, I’ve grown closer to you than I ever have with anyone else.  Hell, my ex-girlfriend said that we were great together.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” he responded, grabbing her hands.  “Jesus, (Y/N), I’m in love with you.  I’m fucking in love with you, and it sucks.  It sucks because I don’t know if I’m ever gonna see you again.  And this is gonna cause so much heartbreak, for me at least, and maybe you too.  I just… I can’t keep it from you anymore.  But I also think, deep down, you already knew how I felt.”  Tears clouded (Y/N)’s eyes, and her lips quivered as she quickly enveloped Jughead in a hug.

“Fuck,” she whispered into his neck.  “Fuck, of course I love you, Jughead.”  He pulled himself out of her grip and stared at her, stroking his hand across her cheek. They both leaned in, pressing their foreheads against each other.  Their lips ghosted over each other, only millimeters apart.

“If I kiss you-”

“If you kiss me, everything is gonna go to shit, Jug,” she interrupted him.  He nodded but didn’t pull away.  They sat there like that on his bed on a minute, (Y/N) sitting on Jughead’s lap with her arms around his neck, foreheads touching and lips barely brushing.

The tension grew unbearable, so (Y/N) closed the gap and pressed her lips against his, trying to express what she had been feeling for the past three months.  

Jughead, too, attempted to convey every pent up confession he had, wishing that kisses could speak. He wanted his hands, which were encircling her waist, to tell her how she charmed him with her wit.  He wanted his eyes, which were closed with pleasure, to tell her how beautiful she was, especially when she trudged into his hotel room at three in the morning.  He wanted his lips, which were pressed against hers, to tell her how much he loved her.  He loved her, he loved her, and he wanted to keep saying it for the rest of his life.

For the sake of oxygen, the two pulled apart.  They kept their foreheads resting against each other.  

“Everything’s gone to shit,” (Y/N) whispered, and Jughead burst out into laughter.  (Y/N) followed suit by giggling, and their still-entangled limbs caused them to fall onto the bed so that (Y/N) was laying on top of Jughead. This only caused the pair to laugh harder.  

When their chuckles finally died down, (Y/N) climbed off from on top of Jughead and laid next to him, resting her head on his chest.  She combed her hand through his raven locks.

“I’m sorry that I fell in love with you,” Jughead apologized, kissing the top of her head. They were slowly falling asleep.

“Thank you for falling in love with me,” (Y/N) whispered, eyes fluttering shut.  “It may have all gone to shit, but it was worth it.”

Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know

Jughead stepped off the plane and saw his dad and friends standing at the gate, excitedly waiting for him.  He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even bother smiling.  Immediately, everyone understood.  

While they were awaiting Jughead’s plane’s arrival, Betty, Veronica, and Archie explained to the rest of the group about (Y/N).  They told them about how Jughead spent three months falling in love with this girl, and they explained that they had never seen Jughead look so smitten before.  

“How was New York, Jug?” FP asked, taking Jughead’s suitcase from him.  Jughead shrugged.

“It was nice.”

“Good food?” he questioned, trying to get his son to open up.  Jughead nodded tiredly.

“Yeah, food was great,” he replied monotonously.

“And the internship?”

“Helpful,” Jughead responded.  “I think it’ll help me improve as a writer.”

“That’s good,” FP said, raking a hand through his hair.  “You had another person with you, right?”  FP noticed Jughead tense up at this.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Yeah, I had a counterpart.”

“What was she like?” Jughead looked up at his dad.

“You already know who it is,” he replied, shaking his head.  “Who told you, Betty?”  FP pursed his lips.

“Yeah, her and Archie and Veronica.  But listen, Jug, you’re going to have your heart broken countless other times.  You’ll get over this girl,” he attempted to comfort Jughead.

“Dad, she wasn’t just a girl,” he protested.  “She was amazing and quick-witted, and I fell in love with her and then everything went to shit.  But the worst part is that it’s okay, because she loved me too.  She fucking loved me, and I kissed her, and now I may never see her again.”

“Well if you loved her that much, you may see her again,” FP shrugged.  “Fate is a tricky thing, son, but the universe seems to cooperate better if you love someone.”

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Mr. Hemmings

To be honest, you don’t know where this new found confidence is coming from since you’re normally a red face blubbering mess in front of him. Maybe it was the wink he sent you this morning or his eyes constantly roaming down your body, whatever it was made your confidence boost and let your wild side escape.

Originally posted by irweicake

Words: 5.5K

Request: No

Rating: R [A HIGH AMOUNT OF DOMINANCE AND TALKING DIRTY] 


The sound of your bedroom door creaking open and the shutters of your blinds getting pulled up had your eyes beginning to peal open, the sunlight shinning through the curtains had a hiss falling from your lips as you turn your body over to look at whomever decided to disturb you so early in the morning.

“Y/N what time did you go to bed last night?” Your mom questions as you hear her wining your window open. The sound of birds chirping and lawn mowers shaving long strands of grass begin to flutter into your ears.

“I don’t know, two maybe four in the morning?” You respond while groaning and throwing your head into your pillowcase, the softness of the pillow comforting you as you let a please sigh slip from your lips.

“Really Y/N! Why were you up so late?” Your mom ask with such frustration in her voice that your actually scared to look at her, but you’re actually relieved when she sits down at the foot of your bed and begins to rub your calf in her thigh.

“I was binge watching The Vampire Diaries sue me.” You say, voice muffled because of the pillow but your mom lets a tired sigh fall from her lips before pinching your calf gently.

“You shouldn’t be doing that. It’s bad for your body.” Your mom says, only leaving you to blink your eyes open and roll them.

“Ugh.” You groan before turning around in her grasp and looking up at her, the sunlight somewhat blinding your eyes.

“It’s the truth Y/N, anyways freshen up. Breakfast is downstairs and I need to talk to you also.” Your mom states while rising up and off the bed, her warm skin leaving your body, causing you to pout.

“What do we need to talk about?” You ask while raising up, your left hand coming up to cover your eyes from the beaming sun as you watch your mom begin to walk out of your door. “Come downstairs and you’ll find out.” Is the only thing she says, causing another groan to fall from your lips before you hear the door slam shut, making you stand and  walk out your bedroom and straight to the washroom.

You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face before you hop in the shower, the feeling of the warm water hitting your cool body had a please sigh slipping through your lips as you quickly washed up and hopped out.

You made your way into your room and quickly put on your under garments before lotioning your body up, the scent of coconut in the air as you walked over to your window with your towel wrapped around your body just in time to see your beautiful neighbor.

Just a few yards away from you, you saw Mr. Hemmings just getting out of the shower also, his body glistening with water as a white towel was loosely wrapped around his hips. His once blond hair now resting dark amongst his forehead, he brings his hand up and brushes it out of his face, making his body look so lean and slender.

A satisfied moan slipped from your lips as you watch Mr. Hemmings continue to paste around his room, continuously looking around for something that he lost. You watch as his body begins to walk towards the window that reflects yours, his arms reaching out and pulling open a drawer that is conjoined to his desk, his arm moving around like he is searching for the item before pausing and looking up towards you.

Keep reading

US Presidents As Dril Tweets
  • George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it
  • John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.
  • Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts
  • James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby
  • James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"
  • John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit
  • Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!
  • Martin Van Buren: Food $200
  • Data $150
  • Rent $800
  • Candles $3,600
  • Utility $150
  • someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying
  • William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good
  • John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this
  • James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom
  • Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying
  • Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...
  • Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin
  • James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...
  • Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"
  • Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off
  • Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT
  • Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,
  • James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now
  • Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark
  • Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site
  • Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc
  • William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!
  • Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL
  • William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*
  • Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer
  • Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me
  • Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals
  • Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud
  • Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me
  • Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume
  • Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed
  • John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self
  • Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"
  • Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups
  • Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right
  • Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again
  • Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn
  • George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT
  • Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,
  • George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,
  • Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line
  • Donald Trump: no
Langst Headcanon

Soo, I’m really new to the fandom but when I discoverd the Langst Tag, I was surprised by how much I needed it! There are soooo many good langst things out here. Well, this is my share:

Keep reading

I’ve been thinking about professor!magnus and soldier!alec since yesterday and idk if I want to commit myself to writing something like that when I know nothing about the army but I feel like there could be something very heartbreaking about it. 

Like maybe Alec is about to be deployed and it’s his what… 2nd? 3rd? tour and he’s happy to be unattached, despite what his siblings always say, because he knows how hard it is to be separated from the ones he loves but also to be left behind and he doesn’t want to do that to someone. So he doesn’t date and he doesn’t have a lot of close friends apart from his family and it’s ok, hes doing something important, serving his country and following his family’s footsteps (ofc they’d be a big military family) but then he meets Magnus … Idk where, somewhere random like a bookstore or grocery store or the outdoor market Izzy dragged him to and sparks  f l y. And Alec is confused/overwhelmed and reluctant despite Magnus flirting 110% with him. Maybe they exchange numbers maybe not, maybe they randomly meet again and Magnus is like uh funny twist of fate *flirty grin* and Alec is just…. abort mission holy shit help ???Because even though he’s had flings and hooks up, he’s never had a crush or somebody that made him go w o w  like this and it’s new? But he kinda wants to break his rule and say yes when the hot college professor asks him out and that’s new and kinda scary but he blurts out yes before he can fully think about it or change his mind. Of course, he has a nervous breakdown afterward and Izzy is like pls find your chill but he can’t find his chill cause he’s going away to get shot at in less than 3 months and the timing couldn’t more off and that’s not fair to Magnus to get him involved like that… Because, of course, Alec is the type of person to worry too much before anything even happens. Anyway, so they go on a date maybe a walk at dusk and some ice cream?? Idk why but I’m imagining this is set in a small coastal town? They can walk near the water while talking about everything and nothing?? I’m seeing a make out session on top of a lighthouse? Anyway, when Alec tells Magnus what he does and where he’s going he’s all sorry about that I should have told you straight away when you asked me out but Magnus is all its ok lets just see where this goes, it doesn’t have to be serious since you’re leaving so soon and they agree to have a fling… but feelings happen and it’s inconvenient!!!

I like imagining Alec walking Magnus to his classes when he’s stayed over the night before (Magnus teaches history in this, I feel it). And maybe on mornings he wasn’t at Magnus’ he does a little detour on his morning run to buy him breakfast and he leaves it in his office during the 8am lecture that Magnus hates so that he’ll have something nice after that hardship, a little muffin and a coffee with a cute note on the cup ‘cause Alec is sappy af even though he tries very hard to hide it. And maybe he buys Magnus peonies at some point, just because they’re pretty and Magnus is pretty and he’s never bought flowers for anyone before and he wanted to… And Magnus keeps teasing him flowers are not casual Mister!! because it’s easier to flirt and tease than to acknowledge the fact that Alec is leaving really soon and he might not come back, and Magnus isn’t even important enough to be considered someone he’s leaving behind (or at least that’s how he feels). Magnus tries not to think about it but he’s obsessing over the idea that he doesn’t even know Alec’s family and friends, doesn’t know anyone who would tell him if something happened??? But he doesn’t want to bring it up because it’s supposed to be casual and meaningless, something that ends when the semester ends. So they keep going on dates and Alec cooks for him and Magnus tries to ignore the uneasy feeling growing in his chest as time flies too fast. Until there aren’t any time left and Alec is leaving. So they take a walk just like their first date and they have ice cream and they make love and they definitely don’t talk about it even though they both know that they should and Alec just… leaves. 

And Magnus tries not to have a hard time about it but it’s tough and he’s grateful it’s the end of the semester ‘cause at least he’s busy between marking terrible essays and correcting exams. He goes out with his friends from the history department once they’re all done and he tries to have a fun time, but truth is… he’s worried. He starts watching the news a little too obsessively and his friends don’t like it but he can’t help himself. 

Alec has been gone three weeks when the first letter comes. It takes Magnus by surprise at first because in all the times they’ve been together Alec has always been a man of little words. That’s not to say he was emotionally unavailable or unwilling to discuss things and his feelings, but this is new, the way the words flow easily on the page like it was no hardship at all to put it all down, descriptions of his unit and where he is, a full paragraph about how much he misses Magnus’ cat and nothing about them at all. But Magnus gets it, he sees it for what it is, a peace offering maybe or a stubborn unwillingness to let go, so he writes back. He talks about his students, their successes and their struggles, and his friends, little things that have reminded him of Alec since he’s been gone. Soft stories for a soft boy in a hard place. And they keep going back and forth, sending each other little pieces of their respective lives and it should be enough, it’s more than Magnus expected, but it’s tough and he misses Alec like a limb, misses him in his bed and in his kitchen, misses him when summer classes start and he has no one to hold his hand on his way to work, no callused fingers to wrap around his… But every new letter is a blessing. It says many things but underneath it all, the most important message is I’m still here, I’m alive and I’m thinking about you. 

Okay so maybe it all comes to a halt one day when his phone rings and it’s Alec on the line, after all those weeks, all those months, and he sounds like h e l l  and he’s there on the phone, apologizing to Magnus because his phone bill is gonna be awful but I …. I just… I needed to hear your voice Magnus, I’m sorry. You… you c-can send me the bill if you want, I just… and it takes everything Magnus has for him not to break down and cry right there and then because Alec really doesn’t sound okay and he has no idea what happened and he has no idea what they are but that’s his boy there on the phone who’s hurting and he hasn’t heard his voice in weeks… So Magnus is like Please shut up about my phone bill, I don’t give a fuck about that. How are you? Are you okay? What happened? And Alec is reluctant to talk about it, doesn’t want to give any details, just keeps saying rough day, Magnus, rough day in this small voice and Magnus hates it more than he’s ever hated anything in his life. He doesn’t want to push Alec too hard so he just asks what can I do? and he hates the way his voice shakes, he wishes he could be stronger than this but Alec doesn’t seem to mind, he just sighs like he’s tired deep in his bones, deep in his soul, and says: just talk to me. So Magnus does, he rambles on nervously about what he had for breakfast and what he taught today, his lecture plan for tomorrow, his neighbor’s hatred for his cat and his favorite designer on the new season of Project Runway. He just babbles on, hoping it can help. All he wants to do is help. Alec hums here and there, asks a few questions, especially about Magnus’ work and at some point he runs out of things to say. There’s a beat of silence before he whispers I love you and he knows that won’t help but he can’t keep it inside anymore, he can’t live with this trapped inside of him, fighting to break free. Alec sighs again. I.. I w-wish… You… you shouldn’t say that. Don’t say that, please. It shouldn’t take Magnus by surprise but it does and it hurts. Me not saying it won’t make it untrue Alexander. Alec groans in frustration and Magnus can picture it perfectly, the way he’s probably bent over, head between his knees, one hand harshly buried in his hair. I didn’t want to put you through that. I didn’t want to put anyone through that but especially not you. He’s so noble and he’s so caring and Magnus knew that already but it hits him again, hard, that this is a man who puts others before himself every single time and who will fight tooth and nail anyone who dares try taking care of him. So Magnus does his best to sound as stern as he can:  Well just too bad because I’m here and you’re there and I love you. And you wishing it hadn’t happened won’t change anything and if you like me even the tiniest bit you’ll call me again because I have been worried sick. 

Alec calls every week after that. There’s a new kind of anxiety that comes with waiting for the phone call, waiting for the confirmation that Alec is okay, but Magnus is happy to live with it when it means he can hear Alec’s voice once a week, warm and soft when he asks Magnus what he’s been up to and insists to be put on the phone with the cat. I don’t want him to forget me! 

That boy. 

They don’t talk about what they are again and it takes until Alec is back on American soil, his head buried in Magnus’ neck so no one can see him cry, for him to say I love you back, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need it. For now, Magnus cherishes every time his phone rings and he gets connected to Alec, he cherishes every time he can make him laugh, he cherishes every single plan they start making, every single hint that they can have a future together. 

It’s enough. 

Shatter Your Rose Tinted Glasses - A Hex?!?

I have an older brother, and as much as I love him, frankly, he’s an idiot. He has a fiancee, and I love the fact that my brother is so happy. However, I hate his fiancee. She’s two-faced, a narcissist, and uses him for his money. Like I’ve seen his bills. He takes her shopping and out to restaurants, and spends some serious money on her, money he can’t afford. Yet they don’t see each other even once a week because she’s “super busy with school” and I understand, I’m a college student myself, but whenever he asks her for help, she’s “too busy” to help him. Everytime she comes over, she acts like a guest rather than a fiancee. She doesn’t help clean any mess she’s made, she doesn’t help anyone with anything, she just comes in and acts like she’s fucking royalty, giving her opinions where it isn’t asked, telling people what to do, and frankly trying to act like my mother or ruler than an older sister. 

Now, again, I love my brother. If he’s happy, I’m happy. But I can’t just sit by and watch as he throws his life away and marries some girl who doesn’t love him for who he is. I don’t want to break them up via magick (casting a break-up spell), I couldn’t live with the guilt. But instead, I want him to see her for who she truly is, without the rose tinted glasses.

So @frankiezaltar and I came up with a sigil (because I’m obsessed with sigils) to help with the situation. 

Step 1: Draw some glasses, could be any glasses: everyday glasses, sunglasses, any kind, but make sure the lenses are big enough to write in.

Step 2: Color the glasses pink or rose, making them “rose- tinted”

Step 3: Write the names on one lens, and the other on the second lens. For example, my brother’s name would go on the first lens, either right or left, and his fiancee’s would go on the second. 

Step 4: Tear the sigil into pieces. This is to represent the “shattering” of the glasses.

Step 5: Burn the torn up pieces, because glass is made from fire, this is to undo the love that’s been formed in his mind for her. I do this step only because I know that he’ll try to use his love to blind him from reason, and try to use it as an excuse to stay with her even after seeing who she really is deep on the inside. 


I understand if this seems more like a curse than a hex, and I definitely understand how it could make others feel uncomfortable to cast it. However, this is the best solution I could come up with. My opinions are my own, spare me of your opinions if you somehow regard this as wrong or whatever. 

If you have any questions, please feel free to message me or @frankiezaltar if she feels up to it. Have a nice day!

My Fake Boyfriend Part 11 (Final Part)

Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 3571

Warnings: A lot of emotions, a lot of fluffy and a little of smut.

@drinkfantasy thank you so much for being my beta. You are the best.

You are so happy, you can’t believe that today you are finally going to sleep on your own bed. “You know, I really like to see you wearing my clothes.” You smile at Bucky’s words as he hugs you from behind.

“I like to wear them, they smell like you.” You are wearing a pair of leggings and one of his sweaters. It’s so big and comfortable. “You can keep it if you want, it looks really good on you.” You turn around kissing him on the lips. “You are going to regret this, in a couple months you are not going to have any more clothes to wear.” You say playful, taking his hair out of his forehead.

“I don’t mind, I can always steal them back and this way they are gonna smell like you.” He is so sweet, you can’t believe how kind and precious Bucky Barnes can be, especially after everything he has been through.

Keep reading

Moving on After Fred Weasley Passes Away - Headcanon/Would Include

Warnings: This broke my heart to write):


  • You wouldn’t cry much towards the beginning. Of course when the news hit a barricade of tears fell freely but after that, you learned how to bottle it all up. Everything was so unreal you weren’t even sure if it what was real anymore.
  • Fred was your best friend, your other half, the love of your life.
  • After the Battle of Hogwarts you’d travel back to the Burrow with the Weasley’s.
  • He was buried shortly after the Battle. His casket was a sleek black color and shined in the rain that fell. You placed a flower on the top of his casket and choked on a shaky sob. George stood behind you and his hand found it’s way into yours, giving you a squeeze of reassurance as he cried with you. You had never felt more lost in your life. Your fingers twiddled with the diamond band wrapped around your finger. It felt more like a piece of mockery, there to remind you everyday of what you could now never have.
  • Molly spent an entire week in the twins’ bedroom. She didn’t talk, hardly ate, just stared blankly at the wall next to Fred’s bed. He had pictures of his Hogwarts adventures taped to the wall and she had memorized every prospect of the photos so much she couldn’t rid the image from her brain when she closed her eyes, but she didn’t want to forget.
  • At the end of the week George entered his and Fred’s bedroom for the first time since the Battle. He spent an hour talking to his mother. You never did find out what he said, but you remember the burning visual of Molly exiting the room with reddened eyes full of heartbreak.
  • Ginny spent the nights sleeping in her room with you and cuddled against your chest, silently weeping to herself. Your presence made her feel close to her late brother, like he had never actually left.
  • George, Molly, and you would clean out Fred’s half of the room. It was full of tears and once happy now sad memories. Like the large maroon tie blanket you had made for Fred on your anniversary. Or the book on Magical Creatures that Fred had stolen on accident in Diagon Alley while he spied on you from behind a bookcase. You were shopping for all your school supplies and the redhead had torn from his family, catching glimpse of you in the robes shop and managed to follow you two stores later not wanting to leave you. You eventually caught him as he tripped over a pile of books, the binds of knowledge cascading to the floor with a crash. You smiled and helped him up while introducing yourself. The rest was history.
  • Arthur stood in the doorway of the room watching the three of you clean. Deep aging wrinkles indented his forehead making him appear older than he really was. His face was long, drowning in sorrow. He didn’t say a word, just watched.
  • Ginny cried alone in her room. Harry tried to comfort her but his success was no avail. She locked herself away for three days, lost in a sea of depression.
  • Ron turned to Harry and Hermione who welcomed him with open arms. He was the first to open up after his older brother’s death.
  • You stayed at the Burrow for a almost three weeks before flying to France. You choice was rash but you needed to get away. Molly understood and wished you well. You didn’t know how long you would be gone but you hoped it would give you some time to come to terms with the heartbreak you were experiencing.
  • Fred used to tell you when you were in school together that he always dreamed of going to France. He never knew why. He was rubbish at speaking French and had no idea how he’d survive, but it was a dream of his.
  • Percy, Bill, and Charlie all stayed at the Burrow for a month or so. Their hearts ached at the lose of their younger brother.
  • George… George no longer felt like himself. It was as if a part of himself was missing, torn from his soul. He dragged through the day’s, closing down the shop for a while. After spending two weeks at the Burrow he moved back to the apartment above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that Fred and him shared. The second he walked through the door he broke down. Tears splashed against his cheeks as he finally let all his emotions pour out. He called you, practically begging you to keep him company.
  • Of course you obliged and flew back home immediately. You lived with Fred in the apartment too. It was your home as well and you had been putting off going back to the apartment as much as possible. The home held so many items from your past involving Fred and you. Where he proposed to you, where you had you first blow up fight, where you had you first time together, where you had the million of talks about your future together, and so much more.  
  • This made Molly feel a little better when she heard you would be staying with George for a while. She hated the thought of George being all along right after losing his best friend, his twin, his other half.
  • You left France still clutching a box full of Fred’s belonging. A heavy feeling invaded your heart. You took a train to London after landing then joined George at the shop.
  • The minute the door swung open George’s arms were thrown around your frame as he pulled you into a tight embrace. The barrier you had been working so hard to uphold, crumbled at his touch. Not because you felt you could finally let go of all the emotions being kept inside. No, you cried because George’s embrace reminded you of Fred’s. The way his hold tighten as you sobbed mirrored Fred’s actions identically. Your chest ached as you came to realize you future with Fred was gone. George’s salty tears splashed on the crown of your head.
  • The first week barely any words at all were exchanged. You would mumble a small ‘good morning’ to each other during breakfast but that was usually it.
  • George spent the days in his room and the nights at a bar across the street. This continued on for a week until you confronted him. You waited up all night, worried sick. He stumbled in around three in the morning, eyes brimming red, breath stenching strong from alcohol.
  • “George Weasley, what the hell?” You would screeched. His eyes snapped up at you resembling a deer caught in headlights. His gazed quickly fell to the floor as he shut the house door and brushed past you. You yelled after him making him halt in his path,
  • “George pease just talk to me! I know this is hard for you, believe me I do. He was your brother. You two have never been apart so I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. George I’m here for you and you can talk to me because I lost him too. You did everything with Fred, you two started this business together and we both know he just wants you to be happy again. Please… just try, George. Try for me, try for Fred. Please. I just want to be here for you. If there’s something I did. If you hate me-” Your voice broke at the end and your knees gave up. Crashing to the floor a echoing cry invaded the air. George stood motionless watching you fall apart before his eyes. He could almost hear Fred scolding him and urging him to act. Fred would want George to comfort you, Fred would want you two to be there for each other.
  • George hesitantly crossed the room and bent to your level. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. Glancing up at him you started in to question him but George beat you around the bush. He seemed half sobered up and shook his head.
  • “Y/n… it’s not you, I swear. You’re the most purest human being in the entirety of the world, please don’t think that way. Every moment you and Fred were together I could never shake that from my mind, how perfect you are. But god Y/n every time I see you I think of my brother. He loved you more than anything in this world and I know he would hate me right now for not being there for you. I feel like I’ve let him down and that hurts more than anything. I see Fred everytime I look in the mirror, everytime I see the pictures on the fridge, everytime I walk into the shop, everytime I come home and everytime I see you.”
  • His words took you by storm but for once, it made sense. You had been sleeping in Fred and your bed, helping start the shop back up (mainly by yourself), and it probably didn’t help that you had been stealing items of Fred’s clothing, just wanting to be close to him again. For the first time since the Battle, you admitted the burden you’d been holding inside.
  • “I wish I could’ve saved him. If I wasn’t distracted by the helping that student- if I would have been paying more attention to Fred… he’d still be here.” You quivered. George’s eye soften and he shook his head.
  • “Y/n you know no one could’ve stopped what happen. I’ve spent every night laying awake wondering if I could’ve changed something. I’m not sure what god planned this, or if there even is one, but Y/n we had no control over this.” His arms locked around you pulling you against his chest. His lips planted against your forehead sweetly covering you in a blanket of comfort.
  • You spent the rest of the night in George’s arm. You shared memories of Fred, some sweet, some funny, and some that made you cry again.
  • “Remember the time the two of you enchanted endless snowballs to pelt, well technically, Voldemort in the face and Quill in the back of the head?” You giggled into the glass of cherry red wine you held to your lips. George leaned into the cushion of the couch and shook his head with a smile. 
  • “Classic!”
  • George spent the night in Fred and your bed- to keep you company of course.
  • He kept you company for the rest of the nights to follow
  • The two of you began to drift into a weird zone
  • You had always lightly fancied George but it was Fred you loved.
  • He would randomly start bringing you home flowers and other small gifts
  • Some days George would come home to find a bundled up new sweater placed on his work desk. You always claimed the things you bought him were on sale so you just couldn’t resist but George knew better
  • A strong connection was growing and it confused you- George too. You wanted another shot at happiness but you weren’t sure if you were ready yet until another vacant Friday night rolled around and you found yourself laying on the couch in George’s arm talking about the week and before you knew it he was leaning forward.
  • The first time you kissed George you screwed your eyes shut tightly and imagined his lips as Fred’s. You knew it was horrible but you had no clue what else to do. It was like you were cheating on your fiance- your dead fiance, with his twin brother. But when you realized it was George, you didn’t entirely hate it. It was actually quite a fulfilling kiss. A part from inside of you warmed up for the first time in a long time.
  • George had a sickening vibe settling in the pit of his stomach after he pulled back. His heart sped up at the newfound affection the kiss brought although kissing you made him feel like he was betraying his brother. Fred planned to marry you for Merlin’s sake and there George was, making out with his dead twin’s girlfriend.
  • But you kissed him again the next day and he didn’t pull away
  • And the next
  • And the one after that too
  • Kissing you made George think of his brother. Fred loved you and George could understand why. Kissing you, sleeping beside you, comforting you, it all made George feel as if he was somehow growing closer to his twin.
  • At first your relationship with George was based solely on the fact that he was identical to your late lover but as time passed on George made you feel differently than Fred did. Despite you never thinking it was possible, George taught you how to laugh again. He would slowly crack back into his prankster self again. It took his almost a full year after Fred’s passing to invent a new product for the shop or even enter the store for more than passing to get to the apartment. He tested out the product on you during breakfast one morning. Pouring a lilac solution into the base of your black coffee and giving it a swirl, George carried on with breakfast as if nothing had happen. Dragging in, you hugged George from behind before taking a seat at the nook. You instantly sipped on the brewed mixture in front of you and spit it out in shock as the odd flavor set in.
  • George howled in laughed and bent over the kitchen stove pointing towards you. Furrowing your eyebrows you set the mug down and spoke up agitated,
  • “George what the hell did you put in- oh my god!”
  • You realized the change in tone quickly and covered your face in embarrassment. Your voice was as deep as a well making you sound similar to that of a male that had spent over half his life heavily smoking. George rushed over and planted a kiss to your cheek.
  • “It worked!” Although you were thoroughly ticked off at his choice of targeting you, you were happy he was back to his old ways. The bills were piling up by the second and the landlord wanted the shop either back up and running, or both of you to move out. Dumping your infected cup of coffee down the sink drain you started to make a new batch. Smiling to yourself you laughed softly,
  • “Well, I’m glad to have you back, George.”
  • That was only the beginning. George and you spent almost every moment inventing and creating new sale items. The first handful were absolute rubbish but it didn’t matter. Both of you were trying to get back in the swing of things and sometimes that took a while.
  • Within three months Weasley Wizard Wheezes was back up and running again.
  • Sales flooded in and shot straight through the roof steadily for a long term.
  • As a ‘thank you’ present for helping him get back on his feet George invited you out for a fancy meal out on the town.
  • You decided on a Muggle restaurant and dressed to the nines. George’s jaw skimmed the floor when you walked out of your room and slipped on your heels. He held your hand and escorted you out.
  • During dinner you had ntoiced how fidgety and nervous George was acting. You made the choice to question him on it over a glass of champagne right before the main course and he physically stiffened. Tilting his glass back, George chugged down the large intake and wiped his lips on the red amber napkin. His hands clasped together then unclasped at his side. His soft eyes found yours and he darted them back down to the tablecloth.
  • “It’s just- well, Y/n… what are we?”
  • It would get silent very fast and he would instantly fill it.
  • “What I mean is, I like you… I like you a lot but I know how you felt about my brother. I saw the glint in your eyes that would sparkle whenever you saw him and how happy you two were together and Y/n I want to be able to make you as happy as Fred did. With that being said I don’t want you to be with me because I remind you of him or because you can’t stop thinking about Fred. I’m not gonna lie at the start of our, uh, relationship I was hanging out with you because you made me think of Fred but all those late nights and million cups of coffee have made me realize the truth. I love you Y/n- and not because you dated my brother. I love you for you and I think I have for a very long time. What I’m asking is… Y/n would you um, like to be my girlfriend?”
  • You cried, a lot. George’s heart broke at the sight only confirming the love swelling in his heart. His feelings were genuine and it warmed your soul. You lunged across the table knocking over the bread bowl in the process and threw your arms around George’s frame.
  • “Of course I will! Oh my god, George. You’re making me cry like a bloody fool!”
  • George called his mother the second you got home. Molly was hit with a wave of shock at first. She gave both of you long speeches trying to inspect if the love was real or a mask to feign the hurt of bonding over the lose of Fred. She demanded both of you come home to the Burrow for the week so you did and the moment she looked into both of your eyes, it was clear as crystal.
  • “Good lord you are in love!”
  • It was hard for the rest of the Weasley family to accept at first. You understood completely since you had the same weary, unsure feeling as well but eventually they came to accept it. They were all happy to you and George happy once again.
  • But as happy as you were, small memories with Fred would constantly pop up.
  • Like one night when George and you were lying in bed together whispering softly realization would settle in and you’d comment,
  • “This is where he proposed. We were lying right here when Fred asked me to marry him.”
  • You knew how horrid it was to put this on George but you had no control. George thought about this all the time and was reminded of your relationship with his brother at every corner he turned.
  • You would then apologize feeling god awful for saying such a thing but George would hush you saying,
  • “It’s alright Y/n. Just because he’s not around anymore and because we’re together now doesn’t mean we have to pretend he was never alive or your relationship with him didn’t exist. He loved you, and I know how much you love him. I’m not upset- actually I’m more than thankful my brother managed to snag a girl like you. You two were perfect together and he will always love you just like how you will always love him. Fred… he is… was my brother and for a long time I thought he would hate me for me being with you and for a long time I thought my heart tricked me into loving you. That maybe it wasn’t love I was feeling but rather so the relationship my brother and I had and maybe because he loved you so much, being with you would make me feel less lonely about losing him but I know the truth. I love you, Y/n. Hell, maybe I always have but the important thing is I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and I will continue to love you years from now and that’s not because of Fred, it’s because of you and who you are. I love you.”
  • You two learned how to live your life no longer feeling guilty for the love you shared. Fred smiled down his heart warming at seeing his two favorite people in the world relying on each other and sharing a piece of their heart together.
  • He proposed to you in the middle of a busy work day right as you were restocking a shelf. The rest of his family were there to see. Molly, Hermione and Ginny cried a river while the boys patted George on the back. On your wedding day the tears were never ending, though happy ones.
  • You two eventually moved to London- kept the shop but decided you needed more room, well of course your growing stomach demanded that. One cold night in the middle of December George and you were blessed with the birth of your first son, Fred ll. He had a head of wicked red hair and a small mischievous smile toying on his face and you had never felt more complete in your life. George planted a kiss to your head muttering a string of ‘thank yous’. You knew in your heart this was exactly where you were meant to be.

- Daizy xx

His Family Doesn’t Like You

She was nervous and he could tell. They had been dating for eight months when Harry asked her to live together. He bought them a house in LA, she wanted to stay in America and LA was the compromise. His family already hardly saw him and so when he made the move they weren’t happy. 

Then Anne read somewhere that Harry had paid off her loans, and he had. Anne had read that her son paid for the mortgage on the house all on his own, and he had. Gemma had read that her brother bought her a car, which he had, but none of them knew that she refused the car, the loans, the house. 

None of them knew how much she hated that Harry gave her everything, and she could give him nothing. They all saw her as a gold digger, which was far from it. She worked hard to pay off as much as she could before Harry got a hold of her loans, she hid the bills, she did her best. But Harry snooped and found them and paid them off, it was one of their biggest fights, but no one knew. Because if she complained she seemed ungrateful, and if she didn’t she was seen as a gold digger, she couldn’t win.

He did buy their house, but she helped out. She paid bills, she paid for groceries and furniture, she really did try. And when Harry bought her the car she stood her ground, he claimed her 2004 Ford would only take her so far, and she reminded him as long as it took her from point a to point b she would be fine, when she had to reach point c they would talk.

So when their house was all set and it looked just how she wanted, Harry asked to have a house warming party. He wanted his friends to see his new life, he wanted to show off the house, the cars, but more importantly he wanted to show her off.When his family heard they offered to fly out, they wanted to meet the girl he moved across countries for, they wanted to meet the girl who was draining his bank account.

Harry could tell she was nervous, she stood next to him, her hand gripping her glass. She insisted on not drinking and settled for sparkling cider, she was never much of a drinker and she didn’t want to risk being buzzed or drunk in his families presence. Harry squeezed her hand, his free one gripping his beer, his friends and her friends were all gathered around in the house and backyard. The grill was up and running and Niall offered to be in charge.

“You’ll be fine Y/N, I promise. I love you how can they not love someone I love?” Harry smiled, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm. 

She took the last sips of her cider and set the empty glass down, “’m not good when I meet people,” she mumbled, “I get all shaky.”

“You’ll be fine, they’re lovely people,” Harry chuckled. 

“I know they raised you,” she smiled, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Harry!” He heard his mother voice call, when he turned from his spot on the deck he saw her. 

Anne stood by the door with Gemma, a wide grin on her face. She rushed over hugging Harry, Gemma followed her actions, “thank you for flying us out,” Anne says, “we just left our stuff in the living room Jeff offered to take it up stairs, he’s a wonderful man.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “mum, Gem, this is Y/N,” Harry tugged on her arm lightly, pulling her in front of him. 

She smiled softly, “hello,” she says gently, “I’m Y/N it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Anne,” Anne says, her voice isn’t as soft as it was when she talked to Harry, it was slightly cold and she didn’t enjoy the way Anne’s look seemed to have hardened as well.

“I’m Gemma,” Gemma faked a smile, holding out her hand. 

She shook it and the clamped her hands together, “how was your flight?” she asked. 

“It was fine,” Anne’s answer was short and simple. 

It was silent and the air felt different, she peeked up at Harry, “Y/N just got accepted to the medical program at Stanford, in just a couple of years she’ll be a doctor,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend.

“So I assume you’ll be working all the time to pay that off?” Anne asked, her eyebrow raised. 

“Oh-well-I got a scholarship-and uh some-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry cut her off, “baby will you get me another beer? This one is warm.”

She nods, “would you guys like anything?”

“No.”

She turns making her way to the kitchen. She grabs the beer, taking in a deep breath. When she composes herself she walks towards the door but stops, Harry stands on the other side, his back to her as he talks to his family. 

“I just don’t get a good vibe from her Harry,” Gemma says softly. 

“She just wants money,” Anne whispered, “how can you not see that?”

“No she doesn’t-”

“Harry if a guy paid my loans, bought me a house, a car, medical school, and clothes I would stay with him as well, she likes you for your money,” Gemma says, her hand resting on Harry’s arm, “her intentions aren’t good. I’m sure she got into Stanford because of you, she’s using the benefits.”

“You guys don’t know her,” Harry snapped. 

And he was right, they didn’t know her. They didn’t know how she worked three jobs to save up to try and be the one to pay for their bill, they didn’t know how stressed Harry was every night you had a late shift. They didn’t know how much effort she put into school, into work, and then to come back home and help Harry cook. They didn’t know how Harry watched her fall asleep at the dinning table after she had worked, gone to school, worked another shift, and if she beat him home she would cook. They didn’t know how all of winter break she spent it working because she wanted to repay Harry for the loans and when she tried he refused. 

“I have money, I have so much I don’t know what to do with it, I paid your loans Gem, I have everything I need, I hate watching her work all the fucking time to pay off something I could do in a second. I hate her working three different jobs so she can buy a damn dress to show up to one of my parities when I could buy it for her and she can spends that time with me rather than serving some strangers in a diner or working at a clothing store,” Harry stated, “I love her and that’s why I do it. She doesn’t ask me for these things, I do them because it makes her less stressed. I do it for her.”

“Y/N is using you,” Anne whispered, “and now she’s taken you away from your family. Harry honey, I’ve been your age, I’ve been in love and I was blinded by it. Please just take a minute and think about it, really think about it.”

“She’s a gold digger,” Gemma says. 

And that’s when she’s break, the small sob that had been forming in her throat leaves her mouth, her hand reaching up to try and muffle it, but they all turn. She quickly turns, pushing through people and running up the stairs to their shared bedroom. She turns, locking the door behind her and pressing her back to it.

“Y/N,” Harry says softly, knocking on the door, “baby, please let me in.”

“I-I just need a minute,” she sniffled, “I-uh-I spilled something.”

“Y/N I know you heard,” Harry says, “please open up.”

She pulled open the door and Harry pushes it, forcing himself in. He frowns seeing her in the state, her eyes red, cheeks pink and puffy, tears are evident and she reaches up wiping them quickly. 

“We should go back to the party, I’m a little hungry,” she whispered, pulling the end of her cardigan and wiping the under parts of her eyes, “if my makeup smudged?”

“Baby,” Harry says, reaching for her, “I’m sorry. They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Please don’t,” she pulls away, “I just need-Harry it’s your family. I can’t come in between that I just-I can’t.”

“They’ll come around,” Harry says, “I’ll talk to them. Don’t-I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I can still apply to live in campus and maybe this will give us space-”

“No!” Harry yelled, running a hand threw his hair, “please. Just-y/n baby, please don’t say that.”

“Harry-”

“Just give it time, I can talk to them, they can see the real you, not the you the media portray’s,” Harry pleads. 

He reaches out for her once more and she doesn’t pull back. His arms wrap around her and she rest her head on his chest, “I love you,” Harry whispered, “and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too,” she whispers into his shirt, “so much.”

“I know,” he nods, running a hand through her hair, “I know baby.”

They stand there, enjoying their embrace. Until she pulls away, tugging at her dress, making sure she looks decent, “we should go back,” she says, “I should probably take out the dessert so people can start to wrap it up.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Harry promises, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she giggled, as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, “Harry we have to go back downstairs!”

He rocks her side to side, picking her up, she laughs, “Harry!” 

“I just want you to go downstairs in a good mood,” he admits, setting her down, but keeping his grip on her, “why don’t you go help Niall huh?”

“Okay,” she nods. 

They make their way downstairs and she walks towards Niall at the grill. Harry leans against the wall watching her, “Harry,” Gemma says, walking up to him, a beer in her hand, “can we talk about this.”

“If you and mum are staying here, in our house, you will follow or rules,” Harry snaps, turning to the two of them, “treat her the way you want to be treated. You want to be cold towards her? Fine, but that will only create distance between us.”

Guest: Part 1

You ask Harry to be your date to a wedding. But just as friends, of course…

————————————————————————————————-

Originally posted by intoyouharryarchive

You had never been more perplexed over the word, “Guest”.

The wedding invite in your hand had arrived at your door a few hours prior and, while the upcoming wedding itself wasn’t news (you had known that your two friends would end up getting married arguably before they did), the little “(Y/N) + Guest” notation at the bottom was unexpected. You currently weren’t dating anyone and hadn’t been for quite a while; at least long enough for your friends not to assume that you would be bringing someone.

But, there it was, in plain, black ink: (Y/N) + Guest.

You bit your lip and read the invite again, wondering if maybe they had just allotted one guest for everyone because they had a huge budget. All of your other close friends were already invited to the wedding in the first place; who on earth were you expected to bring?

It was one friend’s suggestion of, “What about Harry?” that currently had you in fits of nerves and bouts of overthinking. Harry was a pal, sure, but you certainly weren’t close enough to him that you could just waltz right up and ask him to be your date to a wedding. He didn’t even know the bride and groom, but he did know many of your other friends that would be in attendance.

It wasn’t that you weren’t friendly with Harry. You had known each other probably about five years now and always ended up hanging out whenever he was around, though it was typically in a group. You got along well, laughed a lot, enjoyed the same things and had a lot in common. But you weren’t close. He wasn’t the type that you would just call up on a Friday night if you were bored; you were way too self conscious to do that, even though he didn’t act like Harry Styles when he was around you.

He was also incredibly good looking and charming, and that scared you. The idea of being seen at a wedding with Harry Styles just felt like you were opening yourself up for ridicule. You were generally okay with how you looked, but Harry was like a Greek god compared to pretty much everywhere else.

Truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on him. It was a harmless crush, because when he was away you didn’t really think about him at all, but he did manage to make you nervous and give you butterflies every time you saw him.

The idea of asking Harry to be your wedding date had been pinching at the back of your mind for weeks now. The wedding was still a few months away, but you still hadn’t sent in an RSVP to confirm whether you were coming alone or with someone else.

“Have you asked him yet?”

That was the first question your friend consistently asked you ever since she had suggested it. Your response was always the same and becoming a bit exasperating, if you were being honest.

“How am I supposed to ask him?”

Your friend crossed her arms and gave you a smirk.

“Well…how about, ‘Hey Harry, would you like to come to this wedding with me?’”

You sighed, throwing yourself back on your bed and bringing your arms up to cover your face.

“I can’t just ask him like that! It would be weird.”

“I feel like it wouldn’t be…”

“I don’t know him that well.”

“You’ve known him for four years!”

“Yeah, but we never hang out alone!”

“He’d say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but I have a pretty good idea.”

Your conversations went on like this until your friend finally got tired of arguing with you. The rational part of your mind knew that, in all likelihood, Harry would say yes if you asked him. As long as he was around and didn’t have any other plans, he had no real reason to turn you down. But the part of your brain that kept overthinking things – the one that was usually in the forefront – had run through 50 different scenarios in which you asked him and he said no, or you just ended up making a complete fool of yourself.

Finally, you couldn’t put off your RSVP any longer; the wedding was drawing near and your friends needed numbers. Harry had been in London for quite a while now, with a few quick trips to the US scattered here and there, but you had seen him more in the last six months than you had in the past few years.

“Ask him!” your friend hissed, almost shoving you in Harry’s direction as you and a large group of your friends were just about to leave a restaurant.

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Tricks (Part 1)

Request: Hello! How are you? Could I request a Joker x Reader where the he and his friends are arguing about who the most attractive/best with the ladies is and joker ends up betting he can seduce the reader. They fall in love but then reader finds out it was all a bet. Sort of a ‘10 things I hate about you’ scenario haha Thanks lovie

A/N: I COMPLETELY fell in love with this idea this is cute AS FUCK. Part 1 of ??

Pairing: Joker x reader 

Summary: Joker makes a bet he can seduce the reader but finds out he’s met his match. 

Warnings: Sexual implications? Probably swearing? Joker stuff. 

Originally posted by grysamobojcow

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The Real Drug War

Drug Wars - You should probably read this first

mafia!Jungkook x Reader

Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.
-Holly Black

Warnings: There will be very explicit sexual content, violence, drugs,…

A/N: For people who read my J JK fic, I’m sorry, you’ll recognize one part - I just really wanted it here. None of these pictures are mine - credits to the owners.

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Heavy Petting (M)

MASTERLIST

Genre: Smut, Cathybrid! AU

Word count: 4k

pairing: Jimin x reader

Warnings: rated M, sexual content, language, cat/human hybrid, (reverse?) thigh riding, sub!Jimin

A/N: part of cathybrid!BTS miniseries!

others:  Yoongi   |   Taehyung

fluffy drabble based on this oneshot

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anonymous asked:

What are your HCs if someone were to find Victor and Yuuri's very raunchy homemade sex tape? Would they be able to look at Yuuri Katsuki the same way again

It takes Yuuri a moment to reconcile the number of alert bubbles on his lock screen with a reason to panic, but when he unlocks his phone and spies the little red bubble with "529″ above the messages icon, a cold hand has gripped him by the diaphragm and begun squeezing a frigid reality into his chest.

With shaking hands, he opens his missed calls—658, what the hell—and skips right to the voice mails that have stuffed his inbox completely full. Beside him, Victor mumbles something about grass into his pillow.

Everybody he’s seemingly ever met has tried to reach him at some point during the night, and their messages are all variations of the same theme.

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