bring me pizza

Sì, ma tu, che mi dicevi:” Saremo amiche per sempre, niente ci dividerà.“, adesso, dove cazzo sei?
18 anni di risate, litigi, abbracci, compleanni, pizze con patatine e würstel, di sabati sera, estati al mare, dormite insieme, di sigarette fumate, segreti, promesse, viaggi. Tutto buttato nel cesso. Come se io ti avessi mai abbandonato per qualcuno.
E sti cazzi se sei troppo presa, troppo innamorata o troppo e basta.
Non puoi lasciarmi così, senza farti sentire per giorni. Una volta eravamo quelle che sembravano sorelle. No, eravamo sorelle. Ora siamo cugine di terzo grado, quelle che vedi solo a natale, forse.
All'inizio mi hai detto di capire, e ti giuro che c'ho provato. Te lo giuro.
Ma capire anche dopo un anno è troppo, troppo per tutti.
Sei troppo impegnata, dici.
Prima il tempo lo trovavamo entrambe, trovavamo anche una venticinquesima ora nella giornata per vederci.
Pensavo che l'ultimo anno l'avremmo passato insieme. Perché nessuno ci aveva mai diviso. Neanche una scuola diversa.
Arriva lui e il mondo si ribalta, non trovi neanche un secondo per scrivermi ‘hey’, neanche cinque minuti per un caffè.
Che cazzo, io pensavo che almeno le migliori amiche restassero.
Invece no.
Resto solo io.
—  bbringmethere
Safe Place - Luke Hemmings/(Y/N) series - Part Four

Part One // Part Two // Part Three


Luke’s POV

I wrack my brain as I try to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why (Y/N) is sitting in front of me, trembling, with blood running down her face. I know in my mind that Jonah is behind this. She went into the hallway with him for two minutes and came back with a busted lip; it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. I just need her to say the words before I go find him and rip his head off.

“(Y/N),” I say when she stays silent for a few more seconds. “Please, tell me what happened. Did Jonah hurt you?”

I can tell that she’s having some sort of internal debate as I beg her over and over again to tell me what’s happened.

“I think I need to go to bed,” she finally says.

She hops off the counter, her hand immediately reaching up to cradle her injured mouth.

“You know that you can trust me with anything, right?” I ask as she goes to leave the kitchen.

My question seems to make her pause for a second, but she doesn’t turn to face me. Instead, I’m answered with an almost imperceptible nod as she continues to walk toward her bedroom.

My eyes wander over to the bloody rag in the sink and I can feel my chest beginning to ache. I love her too much to watch her suffer this kind of pain. I want to kill Jonah, but I have to get her to say that it was him. It’s almost like I’m waiting for her permission.

I nearly follow her into her room to try and get her to talk to me, but I think she’s been through enough tonight. I’ll check on her in the morning and see if she’s up to talking.

I turn the faucet on and run my hands under it to try and get some of the dried blood off my palms. I’m mesmerized for a few seconds as I watch the clear water turn to red. I don’t even realize how long I’ve been standing there watching the water until I hear a loud crash that breaks me out of my trance.

I run to (Y/N)’s bedroom and throw the door open, worry clouding my thoughts. I see her sitting on the floor with her hand on her head, a broken drinking glass scattered around her.

“What happened?” I ask, kneeling down beside her and moving her hand away for her head. I begin to check her over for any new injuries.

She shakes her head slowly. “I just got a little dizzy for a few seconds, and next thing I know, I’m on the ground.”

“I really think that we need to go to a hospital,” I say, trying my best to persuade her. I know she hates hospitals, but she might have a concussion or something. I see the terror starting to build in her eyes, so I continue, “I’ll be right there beside you the whole time. We don’t have to tell them what happened, we can just say that you tripped. I won’t let go of your hand the entire time, I promise.”

She seems to be considering it for a moment, but then she shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. If it still hurts in the morning then I’ll think about it, okay?”

I sigh. I can’t make her go if she doesn’t want to. “Okay,” I answer.

She starts trying to push herself off the ground, and I catch her just before she falls over again. I slowly help her up, but when I notice her bare feet, I decide to just carry her. The last thing she needs is to cut her foot on some broken glass.
She almost protests me lifting her, but I think she’s just too tired to care at this point. I walk her over to her bed and lay her down softly.

“Yell if you need anything,” I tell her once she’s settled.

She rolls over and murmurs something that sounds like an ‘okay’ as I bend down to clean up the broken glass on her floor. I make sure to get every piece before I turn off her light and shut the door. I throw the glass into the trash can in the kitchen and check to make sure that the front door is locked before I head to my own room.

I throw myself down onto my bed with a bit more force than necessary. It’s been a long day. Screw that, it’s been a long two months. I love touring with the band, and I love making music, but getting up at 5 AM every day just to go answer the same fifteen questions over and over again for different interviewers can really suck the energy out of you.

Just as I’m on the verge of falling asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed, my phone goes off, making me jump. I curse under my breath at whoever is texting me at this ungodly hour, and then I remember that it’s only eight o’clock. I’ve turned into an old man.

I check my texts and see that Mikey has sent something in the group chat. We have a running group chat with all four of us in it, but we hardly ever use it seeing as how we’re usually around each other 24/7.

MC: I miss you guys already D: I’m so lonely!!!
I laugh at his text, and decide to answer him.
LH: Maybe you should leave your man cave more often and make some other friends!
MC: Shut up, Luke.
LH: Hey, you’re the one who texted me.
AI: Would you two children stop using the group chat to text? Some of us are trying to sleep!
MC: PUT YOUR PHONE ON SILENT
LH: Put your phone on silent!
MC: JINX! You owe me a pizza!
LH: First of all, it’s ‘you owe me a soda’, and second, you can’t jinx someone over text.
MC: Well I just did. So bring me a pizza!
AI: IF I BRING YOU A PIZZA WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP?
MC: Yes :D
LH: Now you better do it or else he’s gonna start calling you
MC: Where’s Calum?
CH: Calum is out having a life unlike the rest of you losers xx
AI: How are you not exhausted??
CH: I have super powers.
LH: Alright, Cal Pal.
CH: DON’T YOU DARE MENTION THAT NAME TO ME.
MC: God, Calum. You’re such a Don’t Stop.
AI: Doooon’t stoppppp doin’ what you’re doiiinnn’
CH: LUKE LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE

I laugh as I switch my phone to silent and roll over to try and get some actual rest. I’m sure I’ll way up with a thousand new messages because I highly doubt Ashton is actually going to bring Michael a pizza, and Michael will not be happy about that.

I debate for a few seconds whether or not I should get up and change into some pajamas, but when I start to get up, I realize that it would take too much effort. So instead, I bury my face in my pillow and I’m asleep within minutes.


“GET HIM OFF OF ME! LUKE! HELP!”

I jump out of bed at the sound of (Y/N)’s screams and quickly run toward her bedroom. I burst through the door and flip on the light to see (Y/N) writhing around in her bed and screaming at what I’m guessing must be a nightmare.

“(Y/N)!” I yell, trying to wake her as I quickly make my way to her and grab her hands to subdue them. “Wake up! You’re safe! I’m here. I’m right here.”

Her eyes fly open and I see that she has tears flowing down her face. She looks around quickly, startled for a few seconds before her eyes finally focus on me. Her body relaxes beneath me and I let go of her arms.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her hands reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “I’m so sorry for waking you. It was just a bad dream.”

She scoots over and I lay down beside her, letting her head rest on my chest.

“Don’t apologize. I know how real dreams can seem. But you’re okay now, you’re safe.”

A sudden sob erupts from her and I pull her closer to me, trying to calm her down. I’m at a loss for what I can say that will make her feel better.

“I’m not safe,” she whispers. She says it so softly that I almost miss it, but I don’t.

I lean up so that I can look at her face. “What do you mean? Why don’t you feel safe?”

She looks up at me, tears still glistening in her eyes. “He’s hurt me before.”

“Who has?” I ask, my teeth clenched. I try to keep the anger out of my voice as I hold her close.

She buries her face into my chest and her tears leak through my shirt. I rub her back and twirl her hair around my finger in an attempt to soothe her.

“Is it Jonah?” I ask quietly.

I don’t get a response, but I don’t ask again. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready. Until then, I’ll just make sure that he keeps his distance. I won’t let him hurt her again.

Hearteyes

I thought I’d try and write a polyamory relationship.  I did some research but I have never been in a polyamory relationship please let me know if I did ok or if I got it wrong.  This might turn into a multi-chapter if you guys like it :)

Tag: @im-gay-for-chibbs-juiceyandtiggy

Originally posted by soaimagines


Your hair is tied up in a bun while you drive down the road.  Your green rash guard goes down to your wrists and hits right at your belly button where the purple bikini bottoms sit on your hips, hidden by your jean shorts. You pull into the parking lot of the Samcro clubhouse and jump out, checking on the straps of your bright yellow surfboard before walking towards the bar.

“Can I help you, lass?” A man says, he has scars on both cheeks and a Scottish accent.  You push your heart shaped sunglasses on the top of your head and smile at the man.

“Yeah, dude, I’m looking for Happy?”

“Dude?”  The man furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head at you.

“(Y/N)?”  Happy comes out of the bar and sees you standing outside.

“Hey, man.”  You walk over and throw your arms around his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“What’s wrong?” Happy pushes you back to look into your eyes and you smile.

“Nothing.  I packed lunch for the beach and I thought I’d drop you off some.  It was on my way so I didn’t bother calling.”  You walk back over to the Jeep with your fingers intertwined with Happy’s and hand him a paper bag practically packed to the brim with food.  “Was that ok?”  You squeeze his hand and smile up at him.  His dark eyes look you up and down.

“You going surfing?” Happy places the bag down to pull you closer by your hips.

“Happy?”  A blonde calls out from the bars entrance.

“Are those the guys?” You tilt your head back towards them as Happy nods.  You let go of his hand and smile at him before walking back over to the men, mouths wide open and looking at you strangely. 

“Hey, Darlin’.”  The blonde smiles and holds out his hand. You hear Happy let out a small growl as you smile back at him and then back to the blonde.

“Hey, man.  I’m (Y/N).  I guess Happy never told you about me.”  You say.

“Jax.  And no, he hasn’t.”  Jax says.  You grip his hand tightly while shaking it and turning to the next man.  You were eventually introduced to Chibs, Juice, Tig, Piney, and Opie.

“You his old lady or something?”  Tig narrows his eyes at you and motions between you and your shadow, Happy.

“We don’t really put labels on it.”  You answer.

“Yes, she is.”  Happy says.  You can feel the glare through your back. 

“You going to tell that to the women you screw in this place?”  You turn with a smirk on your face, seeing his chest puff up.

“I’ll follow it up with telling those assholes you screw, you are mine."  Happy raises an eyebrow at you.

“What is happening?”  Juice brakes the glare between Happy and you.  

“Elizabeth is not an asshole.  Neither is Dan, ok?  You get your, um, crow eaters?  That’s what they’re called, right? Don’t act like you didn’t agree to this, dude.” You shrug your shoulders and turn back to the boys.  “Everyone knows I promise.  I’m not an asshole.”

“Did she just call Happy, dude?”  Opie asks.

“You surf?”  Jax tries to change the conversation, practically seeing Happy burn holes in Opie.

“Yeah, I’m heading out now.  Just wanted to stop by and say hi.  It was night to meet you all.”  You say and Happy instantly pulls you back towards your jeep.

“Is the Tacoma Killer actually dating someone that wears heart shaped glasses? Or did I just imagine that?” Juice shakes his head and says to the group.  

You lean against the car pulling Happy forward and catch his lips lightly.

“What was that about?”  You say as you push his shoulder back so he looks at you and he twitches his nose.

“You aren’t available to them.”

“Well, duh.  I don’t fuck the brothers, you don’t fuck my surfing opponents.  We had that agreement when we began.”  You kiss his cheek as he sighs.  “You good?”  Happy nods and you smile as you nudge his head with yours.  “I’ll be back late tonight, I’m going to try to get some night surfing in.  Want me to bring home pizza?”  Happy holds the door open for you as you jump into the jeep.  You lean out the window and kiss him again lightly.

“Sure.”

“Alright, babe.” You say.

“Don’t call me that.”  Happy grumbles but smiles, more with his eyes than his lips.

“Alright, dude.  I’ll see you tonight, ok?”  You laugh at his eye roll and start your car, Happy watching you pull out of the parking lot.

“See?” said Damian. “I told you I heard footsteps. He didn’t go to sleep.”
Which was impressive enough, honestly, given the amount of pain medication that Jason had literally seen Tim take— he should have been out for hours. But what was even more impressive was the mess he’d made of his room.
Tim’s walls were papered with pictures and notes. There was barely any blank wall left, but extra pages were still spilling out of Tim’s printer. He’d run a spool of yarn through a set of thumbtacks, movie style, until it crisscrossed around the entire space in a spiderweb of connections— Jason had to duck underneath it to fit inside the door.
Tim was sitting at his desk, surrounded by stacks of paper and rolls of tape. He didn’t seem to notice either one of them until Jason tapped on his corner.
“Hey. Everything okay in here?”
“Shut up,” Tim told him. “I’m working.”
“Oh, that’s what this is,” said Jason, gesturing to the walls, “Work. You sure about that?”
“Obviously.” Tim pulled a sheet of text from one of his piles and moved over to the wall, searching for a place to hang it. He settled on an empty bit of space and tacked it on— Jason was pretty sure he was leaving tiny holes in the paint. Alfred wouldn’t be happy. “I’m making a network.”
Jason pointed to the center of the mess. “This is a picture of a slice of pizza.”
“I was hungry.”
“It’s connected to a drawing of me.” At least, Jason assumed it was a drawing of him— in reality it was a stick figure wearing an oversized red helmet, complete with tiny guns and “pew pew” written out beneath it, but Jason was willing to be generous.
“I was asking you to bring me pizza.” Tim said, like it was obvious, and he looked around his room like he was hoping Jason had actually brought him one.
“Oh, okay. So instead of texting me like a normal person…” Jason trailed off, waving a hand in Tim’s direction— Tim frowned at him for a few seconds, clearly concentrating, before he sighed and walked back to his desk.
“You’re right. I can do that now, if I can find my phone. Where did I put my—” He started digging through his piles of notes, knocking stacks of them off the desk. After twenty seconds of silence, Damian tapped out a text on his own phone and followed the tone to Tim’s mini-fridge. He pulled open the door: an alarming selection of Red Bull products and Tim’s cell phone, laying across the shelf. He passed it over to Jason with his text still on the screen (Just when I thought you could sink no lower).
“I can’t believe he’s the one that survived,” Jason told him. He was pretty sure it violated natural law. “This is embarrassing. Hey, Tim? You don’t have to text me. I’m standing right here.”
Tim was busy straightening out his yarn, so he didn’t answer.
“Just out of curiosity, how many of these things do you drink every day?” Jason pulled an empty can from the carpet and tossed it at Tim— it bounced off his chest and fell back to the ground. “More than one?”
“One. Five. I don’t know.”
“You skipped a couple of numbers there.”
“Hm.” Tim dropped his voice into an imitation of a GPS. “Recalculating.”
“Oh my god.” Really, Bruce? Jason thought. You replaced me with this? Whatever. Didn’t matter.
“Pass me the post-it notes.”
“Fine.” Jason grabbed the stack off Tim’s desk, read the top, and handed them over. “What is ‘Theseus’ supposed to mean?”
“The Court of Owls has a labyrinth beneath the city.”
“Why didn’t you just write that?”
“Because it’s a code.” Tim stuck his post-it to the corner of the pizza slice and wandered back towards his desk. “I don’t want Damian to read my stuff.”
“Okay, Damian is also standing right here.” Jason pointed behind him. “See? Try to focus. I really don’t think you want to start a fight right now.” Damian didn’t look mad— more amused than anything— but who knew how long that would last? Jason was surprised Tim could walk at this point. He definitely couldn’t defend himself.
“Damian?” Tim asked. He looked shocked, like he really hadn’t seen Damian before Jason pointed him out.
“Yes?”
“You’re alive?”
“Yes.” Damian raised an eyebrow in Jason’s direction. “Really, Drake, try to— No. Drake no do NOT—” He tried to duck away, but he was too late; Tim grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug.
For the first few seconds, Damian stood frozen in shock— mouth open, arms at his sides— and Jason was frozen too. Then he remembered that he was still holding Tim’s phone, so he snapped a picture and ran, out the door and down the hall, as fast as he could. He was halfway down the staircase when he heard a thud behind him (presumably Tim hitting the floor) and Damian’s steps on the landing.
“TODD!”
But really, with that kind of lead, there was no way he could catch up.


for the anon that requested another round of Tim (very high) on pain meds

Dancing in the Rain // Kim Myungjun

-

sure the title’s bulky but ya girl didn’t know how to title it. this is what you get.

the prompt: could i have a fluffy sanha/mj/jinjin fic where you’re at a party and its you and him are quite close and you’re very awkward so he tries really hard to make you happy or comfortable? :) ++ KISS MAYBE?? IDK sorry ^^

words: 1292

category: fluff

author note: don’t be sorry, everyone loves kissing scenes every now and then. wish i could write them better for you. also, i chose myungjun bc i’ve missed him. also i said pizzas a lot in this scenario sorry.

- destinee

Originally posted by papajinjin

Keep reading